#and it’s the fact that this tune is played so very rarely throughout the show

[reelvibes91]

Mind Games and Mayhem: A Review of Cuckoo

A lot of times and especially with the horror genre you have to suspend belief for the film to make sense. Cuckoo is no stranger to this very concept. In fact it goes all in with this and definitely excels because of that.

With that being said, horror is often the most hit and miss genre of film as well. Often times what is a good idea does not translate well to the screen for various reasons. Cuckoo has the right mixture of plot vs. reveals to keep you both invested and guessing.

The investment comes courtesy of Hunter Schafer, and you stay for the creepy performance from Dan Stevens. Schafer plays Gretchen, the reluctant teenager sent to live with her father and his mysterious colleagues. Dan Stevens plays Herr Konig the owner/operator of a resort where strange things begin to happen.

Cuckoo sets itself up nicely by showing you from the getgo how isolated the Bavarian Alps are as they drive along a winding road. The cinematogreaphy was also impressive, using subtle shading and shadows throughout to build the tension. Frame by frame, we see this unfold in a way that allows the setting to become more and more claustrophobic.

It is easy to say Stevens is the highlight of the film as he is the most recognizable and the most veteran actor present. He carries that nuance that presents itself like he is a friend, but there is always something more menacing beyond. Stevens rarely disappoints, and his presence in a film has become a highlight for moviegoers. That is power as an actor to see a familiar face and be able to draw people in because you attached yourself to it.

While, of course, Cuckoo features a wild and outlandish storyline, it does not shy away from realizing how absurd this would all be. Those are the horror films that work best. Keep the story contained to what it is you want to portray and don't try and over explain it. It's violent when necessary to convey the willingness of the characters to kill for their secrets, and it is also a study of human nature. Can humans respond to advancements we think right now to be impossible? That is the ultimate question here, and it asked in perhaps the most unconventional way possible. Tune in if you enjoy that kind of horror. Know full well before doing so that what you are about to watch is the furthest thing from natural.

[the-fandom-abyss]

hello!!! congrats on 600 followers, that's a huge milestone!! i love this concept so much aaah so i couldn't NOT participate this may get very long i apologize in advance LOL

i'm trans and queer (they/he), i don't really have a particular preference in gender. i'd love to be paired with a character from buffy the vampire slayer!!

about me: i like to consider myself a pretty creative person! i've been drawing all my life, i love to write from time to time, and on rare occasions i have been known to put together random strings of music lol. i play guitar, ukulele and piano (although i am rusty in all of them) multiple people in my life have called me intimidating and i have never understood why they think that!! i feel like i'm pretty friendly i just am socially awkward DJFJDFH i'd say some of my strengths are that i'm very passionate, i think i'm pretty empathetic and very determined! some weaknesses are that i'm stubborn, i'm bad at regulating my emotions, and i am kind of a recluse

appearance: i am short. literally 5' tall. i have bleach blonde hair and my personal style changes a lot, but you can either find me in gay vampire apparel or white boy xander-esq apparel. or i'm just wearing a band tee and jeans

misc: my love language is a very close tie between quality time and words of affirmation, but i think quality time is more important to me. i like it when people listen to me talk about things that make me happy!!! if someone does that i would probably fall in love with them on the spot!!! i am a hufflepuff. i have always been a hufflepuff and i will always be a hufflepuff my dream date would probably be staying in, eating pizza and marathoning my favorite slasher films. or just my favorite movies in general because i have amazing taste

that's all!! i think!!! thank you for indulging me and i hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day :D

I ship you with Tara Maclay!

So with your artistic side, Tara would embrace it with her entire being. She would decorate her dorm or shared living space with paint, oils, easels, charcoals and all things creative. She would even offer herself up to be your canvas as you decorate her skin with colours and shapes. She would always be supportive of your creativity and wherever it takes you.

Tara is very shy in nature and through the course of the show, you can tell she is not much of a talker. She would much prefer to be a listener in social experiences. She enjoys listening to your infodumps about fun facts, media, your daily activities and just things that make up you. She just loves the way you light up, how enthusiastic you become, she just loves you happy.

Quality time would be Tara’s love language which she would show you through her thoughtful date ideas. She just wants you all to herself after a busy day of college so she’ll rent the newest movie. Or she’ll set up a creative space whether that be writing, painting, musical or just rearranging her dorm room. Any time with you is time well spent.

I ship you with Angel!

Angel has had his fair share of adventure in his years but nothing is more special to him than a night in with you. He will go the extra effort to find all your favourite snacks, decorate his home for your comfort, blankets galore to combat the cold that his home provides. As he watches your favourite movies, he will introduce you to movies that he loved throughout his time. Some may surprise you but that’s all part of the fun.

I have this image of Angel sitting next to you as you lazily play the piano. He’ll jump in with little notes to elevate the tune you were playing. In the end, you’d both be playing the piano, just trying to match the other rhythm. He would take your hands and guide you through the sheets of music, helping you shake off that rust and build your skills. I just feel this would be so romantic and gentle and sweet.

Angel has spent most of his vampire life hiding in the shadows, avoiding being noticed by human civilisation. So this can make him very inexperienced when it comes to emotions, social interactions and being well equipped to handle it all. So regulating emotions will be something that you both will need to navigate together. In time he will start to recognise your emotions and know a few strategies, while you will begin to feel comfortable around him to open up. It will be a huge learning experience for you both but it’s something that can only be done together

[when-there-is-rain-there-is-sun]

Music

I often say that I can't "feel" music, but that isn't quite accurate. It's true that music almost never makes me want to dance or sing along, in fact I rarely even enjoy doing so, but just because I don't physically "feel" music doesn't mean there are no emotional feelings associated. For me, a good piece of music is one which sucks me in and makes me daydream. For example, an upbeat song can make me dream up an adventure, whereas a slow tune can evoke time spent walking in nature. Of course, it is not always a daydream, sometimes I do get raw emotions.

My father recently brought me to see Rick Wakeman live. He is a British keyboardist who is classically trained but is best known for his music in the prog rock scene mostly in the 70s and 80s. Throughout the show, between songs he switched between a grand piano and an electric piano, very impressive and talented individual on both. Listening to his music did hit me both with daydreams and with emotions. The upbeat parts got me hopeful for the future, but the slower sadder parts did get me thinking of you. Of course, I wore none of this on my sleeve, although I think I did almost break down during his renditions of "Guinevere" and "Life on Mars", both songs which he wrote and performed the keyboarding for. These songs made me realize, among other things, that you will be going to the exact same concert venue in a couple months, perhaps not sitting too far from where I was sitting. The missed shared experiences and opportunities weigh more heavily than I thought they would, and this especially brought out the sadness.

The original songs have lyrics, but I think his rendition that he played with just him hit me much harder than if he was accompanied by anyone. I'm not exactly sure why lyrics take me out of music. Maybe they are trying to set the narrative of the song, while I prefer to create my own path through the waves of notes. I don't want the singer to tell me how they are feeling or how I should feel directly or through metaphor, rather I want to create my own personal metaphor from the vibes alone. This leads to more chaotic, unpredictable interpretations based on how my general mood is, which I think can tell me more about my own feelings than if I listened to lyrics. As you taught me, a bit of chaos is a good thing in this life that I desperately try to control.

[theghostpinesmusic]

I just posted my write-up on the Brussels "Animal," but I want to keep writing about and listening to Goose for a bit longer, so I'll do a (slightly shorter) post on this "Jive Lee" from the Glasgow show that followed Brussels on the Euro tour.

A brief introduction: "Jive Lee" is one of a trilogy of "Jive" songs from the band, the others being the creatively-named "Jive I" and "Jive II." Frequently, two of these tunes will get paired up on a setlist, while very occasionally, all three will get played at the same show. At the Glasgow show, "Jive I" was played earlier in the first set, "Jive II" was not played at all, and this particularly notable take on "Jive Lee" took place during the middle of the first set.

"Jive I" and "Jive II" are both "traditional" songs in the sense that they have lyrics, verses and choruses, and instrumental sections that are occasionally stretched out into improvised jams. Neither song is really known to be a major jam vehicle for the band, but they both stand, in my opinion at least, as great songs, and I'm always happy to hear either, or both. I'm sure I'll write about notable versions of them at some point, so to keep things short(er) today, I'll leave it at that for now.

"Jive Lee" is the "weird" one of the trilogy because it's essentially just an instrumental. It often follows "I" or "II" immediately and functions as a sort of coda, with its entirety being a "Type I" jam. Occasionally, it deviates from that structure a bit, and in fact it's been getting weirder and weirder throughout 2023, arguably without fully "going Type II." This version stands on its own, apart from either other piece of the trilogy, and it's maybe the strangest version the band has played thus far.

Where the video starts is how the tune usually goes, opening with its typical riff (and, in this case, some extra mustard from Trevor on the bass). Almost immediately, Peter deviates from the structure of the song a bit on the electric piano, and Rick backs him on rhythm guitar. If you're a "Jive Lee" connoisseur, you're already picking up that this is going to be a unique version at this point.

I love the combination of Rick's crunchy tone and Peter's electric organ in these first few minutes. Good stuff.

At about 2:30, Rick takes over soloing while Peter switches to the piano. Arguably, we've sort of re-entered "typical" "Jive Lee" space here for a bit, though that's not a complaint. The band has latched onto a groove and we're still full-steam ahead.

The rainbow lights at 4:00 are pretty great.

We take a quick breather at 5:50, and then Rick and Peter both switch over to a funk space for moment, while Peter leaves the synth on in the background. The funk doesn't last long, though, and Ben switches over to a slow backbeat almost immediately, leading the rest of the band into a more contemplative-sounding jam. I hear Rick almost play the "Bathtub Gin" riff a few times here, but almost certainly not on purpose. On my original watch of this show, here's where I started to get excited: it's the emergence of the ultra-rare Type II "Jive Lee" jam!

Rick is out front here for the first few minutes, but I really dig what both drummers are laying down in the background. Around 9:30, Peter starts playing a repeating pattern on the Vibe, then modulates it up a bit shortly after. This sort of "sample" playing is something he did a ton during a lot of Goose's best jams in 2022, and while I heard enough of it that year that it started to feel a little stale, having it pop up now and again in 2023 is great to hear.

Around 11:50, Rick's tone gets a lot more aggressive, and while the overall structure of the band's jamming doesn't change right away, it feels like we're in transition to something else. Peter starts playing a descending riff on the piano over and over and the lights get more frenetic. By 13:45, Rick is in full-on rock mode. Goose has never, in all my time of listening to them, reached full-on metal mode, but this peak is a lot more aggressive-sounding than usual, and I want to headbang as I'm listening to it again now. Take that as you will.

At 15:30, we fade out of one jam space and into another, propelled by Ben and Jeff changing up the rhythm. There is some great interplay during this fast section between Rick and Trevor, though you have to struggle to listen to the bass, as it's low in the mix in pretty much every single Euro tour recording I've heard (as I've likely complained about before already).

Complaints aside, the transition at 17:10 into the composed ending of "Jive Lee" is seamless, putting an exclamation point on the end of an exceptionally strong and exploratory version.

The video I shared continues with Goose's cover of the NRBQ song "Howard Johnson's Got His Ho-Jo Workin'," which is a rare tune (only played four times since it was debuted in 2020), but since there no extended improv here, I'm not going to write about it in particular. It's a fun cover, listen to it if you want!

[magicalgirlsasuke]

the moment in hannibal that hits me hardest is when will’s peaceful happy piano motif (the one that plays when he kisses alana and daydreams about fly fishing) plays after he imagines himself feeding hannibal to the verger pigs

[sinner-as-saint]

‘Till We Bleed Out - 2.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 2 of this series. 

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real. 

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst 

You woke up realizing that you had surprisingly fallen soundly asleep last night, after the strange dream about the handsome man; who was kind enough to let you take shelter from the storm in his home. 

Speaking of the storm, you got out of bed and walked over to the window, pulling the curtain aside. You noticed that the weather was even worse than last night. Heavy rain, and nonstop thunder. Although, it seemed like a very cozy day to just stay inside. You sigh with a soft smile on, perhaps you’d get to know more about Bucky today. 

You turned back around and noticed something you hadn’t last night. Roses on the nightstand, as red as blood and just as hauntingly beautiful. Your smile grew; there was something enchanting about red roses. A bunch of it looked like the embodiment of poetry and there was no other way you could explain it. 

You approached the flowers and inhaled their fresh scent. Oh how you loved them! How come you didn’t notice they were on the nightstand? Anyways, you walked into the bathroom and brushed, showered and were about to change into another pair of sweatpants when you noticed more clothes in the closets. A sundress caught your eye and you decided to wear it. It fit you perfectly. You twirled in front of the mirror, checking yourself out when Wanda walked into the room. 

“I see you’re up, Miss.” she smiled at you. And you noticed she had the same look in her eyes, like Bucky did. That of sadness, or helplessness. But you tried ignoring it. 

“Good morning.” You gave her your best smile and noticed how she took in your appearance. 

“You look lovely. Anyways, I came to let you know that breakfast is ready. Mr. Barnes is waiting for you downstairs in the dining room. Come down whenever you’re ready.”  

Wanda left and the brief mention of Bucky brought back the memories of last night’s dream. It was definitely weird that you had such an explicit dream about him, but the weirdest thing was that you were not feeling the slightest bit guilty about it. 

You took a deep breath and stepped out of the room. You made your way downstairs, leisurely. Taking in more of the décor and the paintings on the wall. These must have cost a fortune, you thought. 

You found Bucky in the dining room, sitting at one of the ends of the large table. You had to admit, even the furniture in this house seemed pricey. Bucky set the newspaper down upon seeing you. He let his eyes roam your frame quickly and his smile broadened. “You look lovely,” he commented. 

You smiled, just a little shy and whispered a ‘thank you’. As you took a seat on his left, he spoke again. “The storm intensified. Looks like you’re not going home today.” he said with a genuine smile. You began to oppose naturally but he insisted. “You’ll be safe here.” 

You agreed. You picked a few food items from the large trays and took a few bites while Bucky got back to his newspaper. The silence was comfortable, the two of you seemed perfectly alright with sharing the space without feeling the need to fill the void with any conversation. It felt like this was part of your routine almost. 

You sipped on coffee and discreetly lifted your eyes to look at Bucky. He munched on a piece of fruit while focusing on some article in the papers. His body language made him look like an older man; eating while reading his newspaper. But his face didn’t look a day over 35. The contrast made you giggle and that caught his attention. 

He turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. “Something funny, miss?” he sounded like he was teasing you, politely. 

You shook your head and set your cup down, and upon doing so you noticed the red roses in a vase in front of you, again. The sudden urge to ask a question took over you, “Your wife, did she like red roses?” 

“They were her favorite.” He seemed unfazed by your sudden curiosity. 

“What was she like?” you asked again and the smitten smile on his face gave away how much he loved her. Love like this was rare, and you felt just a little envious of the late woman. She was so lucky, you hoped she knew. 

“Like the answer to all my prayers. Beautiful. Every little thing about her was so, so beautiful. She was kind, smart and funny, and fierce. She made me a better man. She was delightful.” You noticed he looked you right in the eyes as he spoke. His answer gave away that he worshipped that woman. 

“I hope she knew how much you love her.” 

He gave you that soft smile again. “I made sure to remind her every single day.” 

-

You never knew rainy days could be so lovely. After breakfast Bucky offered to show you his library because of course he owned one. And you had the time of your life just walking around and running your fingers over some of your favorite books. 

You noticed red roses on the coffee table as well, by the couches in his study room/library. While reaching for a copy of Pride and Prejudice, your hand brushed with his and your whole body felt like it was electrified. You pulled away sheepishly, but he held it up to you and you took it with a smile, admiring the front cover. 

“Your favorite?” he asked. 

You nodded, excitedly. He let out a little laugh. “You can have this one. I have plenty of other copies.” 

You smiled so big your cheeks hurt. “Thank you, Buck.” you were so excited that you walked past him, hungry to explore the other side of his library - without realizing what you just called him. 

Meanwhile Bucky was both surprised and elated. Buck… no one called him that except for-

“What’s in there?” he heard your voice and turned around immediately. You were pointing at the partially hidden door at the end of the room. “That’s where you hide all your secrets?” you teased, using the same tone he did this morning. 

He laughed and nodded. “Yes, you caught me.” 

You two shared a laugh and then he insisted that you should see the piano room. You agreed and just as everything else in the house, the grand room was equally as breathtaking. White couches, brown pillows, plants, full of light even with the stormy weather and a large balcony adjoined to it. Perfect. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said as you admired the room. You could hear the heavy rain hitting the window panes, it was comforting. You noticed the well-maintained piano right by the door which led to the balcony, “Do you play?” you asked and he gave you a dramatic look which gave away that you had just bruised his ego. 

“Miss Y/N, how dare you question my skills?” He answered with a smile on, then proceeded to play the most melodic tune you had ever heard. You weren’t much of a musical person, but you knew a melancholic tune when you heard one. It was, as most things in this house, hauntingly beautiful. Even the music carried a sense of nostalgia, and homesickness. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, getting lost in the music which filled the room effortlessly. Familiar, very familiar. Then it hit you - this was the same song being played at that ball in your dream. You opened your eyes immediately, baffled at the weird coincidences taking place lately. 

You found yourself gravitating towards the bench, and eventually you sat beside Bucky. He looked at you for a brief moment, then resumed playing somewhat of a softer tune. You smiled at him and suddenly it all felt like a déjà-vu. Like you’ve lived this exact moment a hundred times before. Sitting next to him, your elbows brushing, him looking at you lovingly, yet with sad eyes. His cologne, the slight gray in his eyes, the weather - it felt like a forgotten dream was coming back to you. 

You had to find something to say otherwise you felt like you were about to lose your mind. “You said you worked all day everyday. So is today your day off?” you tried to lighten the mood. 

He let out a little laugh. “Like I said, I rarely get visitors. I’m just making the most out of your company.” 

He was drop dead gorgeous, and he could make your heart race with just a few simple words. A dangerous combination really. 

He kept playing as you walked around the room, taking in every little detail. This was the only room in the house which had white roses in the vase, instead of dark red ones. Well, the white ones matched the interior better here. Your gaze fell upon something interesting next. 

“Vinyl records?” that seemed to catch his undivided attention as he stopped playing and turned to you. 

“Oh yes. It was one of my… old hobbies.” He answered. 

You giggled. “You say old hobbies like you are over a hundred years old.” 

He chuckled and got up from the bench. He walked over to where the records were kept, picked one out and carefully placed it down on the record player. A soothing tune filled the room again. Much lighter and happier than the piano earlier. A stark contrast to the gloomy weather but it still, somehow, fit perfectly. 

Bucky extended his arm out in front of you, out of nowhere. “Dance with me.” 

You didn’t hesitate for a single and took his hand immediately. Bucky held you close; his hand at your waist pressing your body to his gently. His other hand held yours delicately. Your arm placed over his shoulder as you stared into his deep, piercing eyes. And just like that, you two swayed slowly to the sweet, slow music. Effortlessly, gracefully and without any awkwardness or hesitation. Almost like you’ve danced a thousand times before. 

You giggled as he twirled you around and pulled you closer almost immediately. And when you looked back up into his eyes, it felt like a déjà-vu again. Only this time, you knew where you had experienced something similar to this - in your dream last night. The ballroom, the gown, the way you danced. Just like this. 

Your body tensed up and you weren’t blinking, Bucky caught the change in your behavior. “Don’t think about it.” he murmured. 

“About what?” you used a much softer tone as well. You and him were so close you could whisper and you were sure he would hear you perfectly. 

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about.” He spoke as he swayed you gently. “You’re here, with me. I don’t want you to think about anything else.” It sounded more like a plea than a request. There was something else he was trying to say; inexplicable, hidden in between the lines. Somehow you caught it. 

You nodded. “I’m here.” You spoke without paying much attention to what you were saying or doing. “With you.” All that mattered in the world right now was that you were in his embrace. His ocean blue eyes were the only thing you could make sense of. 

You felt it then. The warmth, despite his cold hands. The sparks flying around, despite the dark and gloomy weather outside. He started leaning in and you met him halfway. 

His hand moved up to gently cup your face. His lips brushed against yours briefly as he paused and waited to see if you would pull away. Seeing you didn’t, he pressed his lips to yours. You shivered at how delicately he caressed your cheek with his thumb. Kissing him felt natural. Like a habit. His lips were soft and familiar. He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you closer. 

Your hands instinctively slid into his hair, he moaned under his breath as you tugged on it gently.  Bucky tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss, nibbling on your lips and gently stroking your lower lip with his tongue. You felt giddy and warm. And safe. 

He pulled away just a second before Wanda stepped into the room. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Bucky told her you two would be downstairs in a minute and you caught that look on her face. A look of pure joy and satisfaction. You didn’t understand why. 

When Wanda left, you faced Bucky again, now just a little nervous. “I.. I didn’t-,” 

He silenced you by gently holding your chin in between his fingers. “Shh sweetheart.” His gaze spoke volumes; he was perfectly alright with this kiss. “We should go downstairs.” 

Dinner was perfect. Lovely conversation, lovely wine, the same stormy weather outside but inside Bucky’s home; all was well. He told you that you were more than welcome to use his library if you wished to do some light reading before bed. You agreed. 

You grabbed a book and curled up on one of the couches and he did the same, sitting right across you. You found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again because you couldn’t focus. Not when you could physically feel his eyes on you. You even caught him staring a few times and giggled whenever he seemed flustered after being caught. 

There was ease between you two. And the next two hours went by comfortably. 

“It’s late, I should go to bed.” You spoke as you stood up. He did as well, and when you looked into his eyes you began wishing that this storm outside lasts forever. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, leaning in and kissing you at the side of your mouth. 

“Goodnight.” 

-

You tossed and turned in bed. Somehow, falling asleep was a little harder today because you couldn’t help but think about how it felt when Bucky kissed you earlier. The sound of the harsh storm echoed inside the house, but it was still comforting. 

The loud roar of the thunder was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep; dreaming again, this time of red roses, blue eyes, balconies and paintings… 

Arms wrapped around you from behind, embracing you in a tight hug. “Do you like it, my love?” the silky smooth voice asked. You looked down and you smiled at the sight of the wedding band on his finger. 

“I love it.” You looked up at the frame hung on the wall. It was a painting of you and your husband, delivered to you that morning itself. “We’ll keep it here forever.” 

You heard a soft chuckle, then felt a pair of lips kissing your neck softly. “Even longer.” 

You turned around and came face to face with Bucky, with slightly longer hair, tied in a low, neat ponytail. Behind him was a very familiar door. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. “We should get going, else we’ll be late.” 

The surroundings faded, and you were now inside a dimly lit ballroom. The grand chandelier was mesmerizing, but not more than your husband’s eyes. He was gorgeous, your man; even with half his face covered by the masquerade mask he was still perfectly able to take your breath away. 

He smirked, as though able to read your thoughts. He leaned in, and the rest of your surroundings was suddenly a blur. “Do you wish for us to go somewhere more private, sweetheart?” He whispered in your ear. 

You bit your lip and nodded, only then realizing that you were wearing a mask as well. Bucky smiled, tugging on your hand and dragging you along to wherever it is he was taking you. 

The room around you morphed again and you found yourself running up a staircase with Bucky, giggling and holding onto each other for dear life until you finally made it to the top. You found yourself on a balcony. 

“Where are we?” you asked. 

Bucky stepped closer, pushing you gently against the balustrade. “Home.” He leaned in and kissed you. His mouth moved against yours gently, passionately. His hands were on either side of your waist as he pressed you further into him. Your hands instinctively went to his neck as you gently pulled him closer.

As you closed your eyes and cherished his touch, an image of the painting from earlier flashed in front of your eyes. But you forgot it just as quickly as it came because Bucky’s touch took over all your senses. His hand slipped under your dress, and went right to your wet core. 

You giggled into the kiss as his knuckles brushed faintly against your core and you moaned at his touch. He cupped you in between the legs and the palm of his hand pressed against your throbbing clit. His mere touch was driving you insane. His lips left yours and he kissed his way to your neck; sharp teeth nipping at your skin. At the feel of it, your own canines sharpened out of nowhere. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t feel like it was the first time that it happened. You seemed comfortable with the sudden change. 

Bucky kissed all the spots which made you weak in the knees; he knew your body by heart it seemed. While he kissed your skin, his fingers moved slightly against your dripping core. You moaned, tugging on his hair just a little. 

“Be quiet for me, sweetheart.” he mumbled against your skin as he slipped two fingers past your folds. He curled his fingers inside you immediately, and stroked your walls gently. You moved your hips against his hand as you chased your orgasm. His thumb rubbed your swollen clit furiously as you bit your lip to keep you from moaning. 

“Buck…” you were breathless, each nerve ending on fire as pleasure washed over you. 

“Shh sweetheart,” he quickened his actions and slipped his fingers in and out of you incessantly until he felt your walls clench around him. “Cum for me,” he whispered. You moaned, biting your lower lip as you came all over his hand. 

Once you recovered, he pulled your dress up, making it bunch around your waist as he stepped in between your legs again; kissing you like his life depended on it. He undid his pants and hoisted you up his own body. You wrapped your legs around his waist quickly for better balance and he leaned the two of you against the balustrade once again. 

You felt his hard cock pressing against your skin as he kissed you hungrily. His hand dipped in between the two of you and he guided the tip of his erected cock over to your dripping entrance. The brief friction caused you to moan into his mouth. 

“Be quiet for me, yes?” he spoke against your lips, almost as breathless as you were. You nodded frantically. And with that, he pushed himself inside you quickly. You felt all of him once he was completely buried in you. His cock twitched inside you and you bit your lip to prevent a moan from escaping your lips.

He held your hips, and your hands gripped his shoulders desperately as you tried to keep your voice down. You pushed your face into the crook of his neck, nibbling on his skin with your sharp fangs as he rocked in and out of you. You moaned quietly against his skin as his throbbing cock sped up into you. He pounded into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans and gasps out of you. 

He growled when he felt you clench around him. “Bucky…” you moaned and he immediately placed his lips on yours to stop you from making more noise. He loved how you lost control under his touch. He loved the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

“Shh, sweetheart. Quiet,” he mumbled against your lips as he felt your walls milking him perfectly. “We can’t get caught fucking in our own balcony while we were supposed to be hosting a party downstairs.” He ended with a chuckle. 

You whined. “Well if you weren’t so insatiable,” you teased. He scoffed, holding you at the curve of your ass, hands under your dress as he occasionally squeezed your butt cheeks, making you giggle and moan at the same time. 

“Says the one who lures me in like a seductress every moment of every day,” he sassed back. He slammed into you relentlessly while you tried your hardest to not to scream out loud. You felt a pressure building between your hips, and it seemed like he felt it as well because he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath as he sped up again. 

Your thoughts became cloudy, and all that you could focus on in that moment was the force of his thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you found yourself unable to form proper thoughts. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he filled you up.

Your body moved along with his like a rag doll as you could no longer keep up with his thrust. Soon, you felt the warmth taking over. And a familiar tingle went down your spine as your walls clenched around him. You gushed out all over his cock with a loud moan… 

 You woke up gasping, shocked that you had dreamt such explicit dreams two nights in a row now. You looked around and realized that it was still night time. You could still replay the dream in your head like a vivid memory. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths. 

The painting. 

The painting seemed so real, so detailed. You wondered if- 

Wait, that door you dreamt of. You’ve seen it before, haven’t you? Large, dark wood with beautifully detailed carvings on it, golden doorknob… 

You gasped again. It was the door in the library. Your heart raced. Could it be… ? 

You didn’t think twice before getting out of bed, grabbing the robe Wanda had left you earlier you stepped out of the room. Your breaths got shallower and shallower as you reached the library. 

It could very well be just a weird dream, right? You jumped at the sound of the thunder, and realized that you were already inside the library. You stared at the door. This was the exact one you dreamt of. 

Fuck it. You walked towards it, blocking out any thoughts which told you to turn back around and get back in bed. You twisted the doorknob and it was unlocked. You pushed the door open, stepping inside you found a secret room. About the same size of the library, or maybe slightly more spacious. 

It looked like a more modern and luxurious version of a drawing room. With the usual, couches, carpets and… and paintings. For a moment you almost didn’t want to find it. You didn’t want to find that painting of you and Bucky; which you had just dreamt of because if or when you do, what then? 

You looked around, the light from the two chandeliers illuminating the room just right. There were regular paintings one would find in an expensive mansion like this one; views of countryside, mountains, rivers. There were some paintings of people you couldn’t recognize but you knew, deep inside, that they seemed familiar. 

You almost let out a sigh of relief when you didn’t find the painting from your dream. 

Almost. 

But then you saw it. The largest frame in the room. Right above the golden fireplace, mounted on the wall perfectly straight and right in the center of the room. 

It was the painting you dreamt of. The one of you and Bucky. 

“What the hell?” you whispered as you approached the fireplace, craning your head up to look at the oddly familiar painting. 

You two seemed so happy. You were in a rose gold gown, and Bucky was well-dressed in navy blue. A lovely moment in time, captured in a beautiful painting. You weren’t quite sure what to think as you looked at yourself in the painting. 

Your eyes instinctively trailed down to the bottom on the frame. And in cursive black painted were written the words which gave you goosebumps: ‘Mr. & Mrs. Barnes. 1872.’ 

“What the hell?” you repeated. 

This time you heard a voice speak up, from behind you. “You should be in bed, sweetheart.” He said softly. 

You turned around and found Bucky leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed and a look on his face which you couldn’t quite decipher. You turned to look back at the painting, and then back at him again. He hadn’t aged since 1872 it seemed. 

Your heart raced again. 

It couldn’t be… could it? 

[aminiatureworld]

Spotlight

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,707

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Modern AU in which the reader’s s/o is famous.

Author’s Note: My first crack at a modern AU and I enjoyed it immensely! My personal media of choice definitely came through in this prompt. I would now kill for Albedo to read Shakespeare. Also streamer Kazuha is an inspired idea, thank you anon for that! Not to mention musician Xiao, truly chef’s kiss.

Albedo

Albedo was a stage actor, both by education and by trade. Starting in high school he began in local productions, before entering into the Mondstadt Theateracademie. After appearing as Estragon in a filmed version of Waiting for Godot, he began to be scouted for various television miniseries, eventually becoming a well-respected film actor.

You arrived somewhere in the middle of his career. Working as a costume assistant at the Academie you had quickly fallen for the inquisitive and deceptively intense soul that exuded every color of emotion onstage, from raging anger to soft sorrow, before stepping into the wings and resuming an aura of utter calm. He had captivated you, both as an actor and as a human being; and when you learned that he had also become slightly infatuated with you, well, it was hard not to feel like you had stepped into a wonderful play, or perhaps simply a wonderful play had been brought to life.

The switch from theatre to screen was certainly a jarring one for both of you. When the first film contract was offered Albedo had stared at it for a long time, rereading it over and over again as the coffee in front of him quickly turned cold.

“Is there something wrong with the contract?” You had asked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s only…”

“Only?”

“Only on stage there is a single audience. You can feel their reactions, can measure their response. There is nothing nebulous about the people around you. But on film you cannot do that. You cannot adjust for time of day, or whether it’s a weekend or a Friday performance. You must let your lines out and hope that they land without even being able to calculate it.”

“It’s not a science experiment my darling,” you had teased.

“Maybe not,” Albedo admitted. Still he continued to read and reread, and it was only until the next afternoon that he had told you his answer.

Still, you had to admit that he made a fantastic actor. The naturally inward part of your partner’s personality, the part that always seemed to jump out the moment he left the stage, worked well to balance with the camera’s need for subtlety, unlike the projection required for stage plays. It was little surprise then that he should grow so popular. Despite all the worries about measuring audience response, there was no doubting the success of Albedo’s acting career.

Being a naturally withdrawn person Albedo mostly stayed off of social media. He had one private Instagram for friends – he didn’t post anything; one private Facebook for family – the only picture was one of you two in the mountains next to a particularly weird looking rock; and WhatsApp – which could barely be counted. Thus when he started blowing up on Twitter – a platform you had a mostly unused account on – the reaction was mostly one of “why are they talking about me?”

Not that Albedo minded fan enthusiasm, indeed when people started showing up in droves at the stage door for him he was always careful to thank everyone collectively and talk to as many people as possible, it just sort of confused him that so many people should take a vested interest in the actor and not just the character.

“It’s because they want to show you how wonderful they think your performances are,” you’d explained.

“I don’t have Twitter,” Albedo deadpanned.

Despite his protests though you sometimes caught him scrolling on your account, face slightly red at all the positive attention. His habit of internal self-deprecation had never truly gone away. That fact became slightly unfortunate in the face of hate comments. It was hard for Albedo not to take things personally. If someone said his acting was shit then you would catch Albedo reading the same line over and over again, as if to achieve mathematical perfection. It was a difficult urge to fight, and you were always careful to give Albedo plenty of reassurance when these things popped up, as well as surreptitiously blocking the trolls that wandered their way onto your dash.

This habit to take things at face value did not apply when you entered the mix. As far as Albedo was concerned you were his partner and no amount of complaining online would make him second guess that or second guess your worth. Even if you thought that you had a better hold on social media assholerly than he did Albedo would still make sure that for every hate comment that floated your way there were at least three compliments on his part. Mentioning you off-handedly in press interviews, saying that he had to go home to his partner, leaving small sketches on post-it notes scattered throughout your apartment, there were no lengths that Albedo wouldn’t go to assure you. And, if you had to admit, these things truly did make you feel better on the days when the small part of your brain said that this wasn’t mindless social media harassment.

Being an actor Albedo had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of the way that people responded to emotions, as if he were performing some grand sort of scientific experiment to see how many people he could sway with his gift. As of such he was always careful that, regardless of his success, things between you were never upturned. You were with him before he was really famous, and you would be there during and after. Albedo loved you deeply; though he often said that he hated romance plays for how sappy they were in his mind your relationship was the one, glowing exception – regardless of the other happy couples in the world. Though it was slightly idealistic, it was the kind of intensity that comprised Albedo’s personality, was the thing that had garnered him so much success.

Albedo loved you deeply, and no amount of surprise movie contracts would change that.

 Kazuha

You had to admit that when you had met Kazuha you had no idea about his double life as a streamer. He was merely one of the many singers that came and went to the recording studios, all people eager to unleash their talent on the world. But unlike the rest of them, Kazuha could make you laugh.

Perhaps then it was unsurprising that Kazuha should be a popular streamer. Though his often florid talking style might seem on paper like it would be too grating for streaming, in reality his soft cadence combined with a dry sense of humor made him wildly popular. He rarely lost his temper, making him palatable to those who wanted to have a fun time without blowing their ears out, and when he did lose it his hyper-specific, often nonsensical insults were the stuff of memes. No, in retrospect it was not all that surprising that Kazuha was a beloved streamer.

At heart though, Kazuha had told you over coffee, the enthusiastic and earnest internet sensation was a poet.

“When you’ve had a life as dissonant as mine, how can you not be?” He’d joked. And indeed perhaps he was right, for Kazuha was as wonderful a poet as you had ever read. He was born to be a writer, you had told him.

You were also an aspiring singer, as well as a friend of the studio owner where you did your recordings. As such you had made it a habit to help around the studio when you weren’t also working or studying. As you and Kazuha were both students with intense side jobs, the good natured complaining of overworked students also made their way into you rapport, a friendship that grew day-by-day. Eventually it sprouted into love.

Though you knew that Kazuha was a streamer when your relationship started, in reality you hadn’t realized how truly popular he had become. The first time you watched one of his streams you were blown away by his popularity. Watching your first livestream only cemented that. It was hard to believe that your down-to-earth, slightly self-effacing, partner could have garnered such a large fanbase. Not that you didn’t think he deserved it. He absolutely did. However after seeing that you admitted you were a bit awestruck.

“Why? Am I not the same person on screen and off?”

“Of course you are! It’s just, well, my partner’s a celebrity!”

“I would go that far,” Kazuha laughed.

“Well you certainly are to me!”

Nevertheless your dynamic didn’t change much afterwards, besides the occasional teasing on both of your parts. Kazuha was after all Kazuha at the end of the day.

At the beginning Kazuha didn’t mention you much on stream, certainly not by name, you had to admit you were a bit intimidated by the idea of being recognizable on the internet, even if it was just by name.

“This is also my partner’s favorite map.” Had been his first mention, during a game of Mario Kart.

Despite this offhanded remark however the chat had almost immediately exploded, followed by the rest of the fanbase. Though there was, of course, some disappointed buzz – isn’t there always – the reaction was immensely positive. Positive, and curious.

After a while Kazuha started mentioning you more often in streams, especially after the two fo you moved in. Sometimes you would hear him as you passed him room – Kazuha liked to keep the door open – other times you would watch it on stream yourself.

“My partner hates this character. Too bad you can’t throw evidence.”

“Nobody tell my partner that I’m afraid of basements. I don’t need them to know that when laundry day rolls around.”

“Hey if you’re watching this dear, I promise that it’s not that much money. You don’t need to look at the bank account. Who am I kidding, this is why we don’t share one.”

“Hey, darling I know you’re watching this. Can you check and make sure I left my keys on the coffee table, they aren’t on my desk. Also can you make tea?”

Despite fans knowing very little about you, you were surprised by the amount of positive comments that flooded the streams. You had to admit that your initial expectations had been “people are going to find me annoying”. Instead funny comics of your voice drifting in from the other room popped up, along with a lot of waving and “tell your partner not to trust you with the keys” after Kazuha fell off a cliff one too many times. It was an odd experience, to be so happy about the comments of faceless people, people to whom you were also faceless.

Eventually Kazuha’s hardwork in singing paid off and his first single was recorded and given a deal. On the evening of the release livestream Kazuha set up in the living room, angling the camera so that you could sit on the chair just out of frame. You had talked about the release for months now, and a few weeks ago Kazuha had brought up the idea of a pseudo-stream reveal.

“I was wondering if you’d like to say hello to the audience or wave when my song is released. I understand that you’re hesitant about those sort of things, and I would never ask of you something that would make you uncomfortable. This relationship is the most precious thing to me, and I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or exploited in any ways.”

“Thank you for being so considerate Kazuha. I’ll think about it.”

Now you sat in the chair, fidgeting slightly, waiting as the countdown on his laptop reached one. You excitement certainly seemed matched by that of the fans, who were typing wildly in the chat.

Eventually the screen faded to black and the chatting quieted down. The first few notes of a wooden flute emerged, combined with the strumming of a guitar. As the familiar words began to echo through the laptop speaker you found yourself washed away. Kazuha was always enthralling when he sang. At the end of the song was a dedication, and though Kazuha had already alluded to it, the sincerity still took your breath away.

To my dearest partner. My compass and my guiding star throughout this realization of my dream. You are my sun and my stars, and I’m forever devoted to you. Thank you for sharing in this project, and thank you for giving me such love.

Perhaps it was slightly saccharine. Regardless you felt the sudden, uninhibited urge to cry.

“So, what did everyone think?” Kazuha asked into the mic, face reappearing on screen. He was slightly giddy, and you watched as his hand tugged on the fabric of his linen belt.

Immediately the chat exploded, as waves of “that was amazing”, “I’m crying now”, and “the end was so sweet!” flooded the screen.

“Thank you all for the encouragement!” Kazuha let out a laugh, one that you could tell was one of utter euphoria, and no little relief. “There’s someone else I think who would like to thank you.”

Who knew that a small sentence could cause such a splash?

You barely had time to let out a tentative “Hello,” before an immediate wave of excited screaming covered the bottom left of Kazuha’s stream. “Thank you for supporting Kazuha’s song. And thank you for always being nice to me.” With a tentative wave of the hand you collapsed back on your chair, slightly hysterical laughter rising inside you out of the relief that flooded through you upon seeing the enthused fan reaction.

Afterwards your voice became the occasional guest on Kazuha’s streams, always greeted with enthusiasm. Kazuha continued to grow in popularity, and his music continued to capture a larger and larger audience.

All throughout this you never felt a snag in your relationship. Kazuha may have been a big streaming personality, but he was also a kind and considerate partner, the best that one could ask for in a significant other. Kazuha’s love was never in question. And neither was yours.

 Xiao

Sometimes you were a little self-conscious about the way that you met Xiao.

Though Xiao had definitely grown a following by the time you met – being the main pianist for a popular singer and a classical pseudo-prodigy in both piano and flute his own right certainly had roped him an enthusiastic fanbase – you had simply known him as “the guy who hogs the practice room”.

“I swear to the gods, how long can that bastard take to practice!” You texted angrily at your friend one day. Qixing Conservatory was the premiere music place in Liyue, but what should’ve been an amazing opportunity was being overshadowed by a practice room partner who appeared to not have a life, one who also had the obnoxious habit of playing the same damn thing over, and over, and over again.

“Playing the same piece as before?”

“Yes! Ugh I don’t even know what it’s called but I’ve heard it enough times to last a lifetime, maybe five!”

“Damn I’m sorry, what time does he usually end?”

“I don’t even know. Some time in the early evening. It’s obviously never gotten through to his brain that other people also need to practice. Or that hearing the same notes over and over while waiting makes me want to chuck my binder against a wall.”

“Lol. I kinda want to hear it now. Can you send a video, will the sound pick up?”

“I don’t know how it wouldn’t.”

“…”

“Holy shit! Okay, I need you to watch this video and tell me if you recognize the pianist.”

Safe to say you nearly fell out of your chair upon figuring out Xiao’s identity. Not that you weren’t already about to out of pure exasperation. Still, there was something much more intimidating about shaming a successful musician, and you no longer had the urge to glare at Xiao every time he left the practice room. Honestly, you would have been perfectly happy keeping your head down and never interacting with him at all.

Fate, however, has a sense of humor.

To be fair, some of it was your fault. You knew that Erlkonig was a massively difficult piece. You knew that you should’ve picked something else, knew that even Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata mvt. Three had to be less painful than the non-vocal arrangement you’d placed in front of your eyes. You were never trusting your music taste with your piece choices again. This was a terrible mistake.

“These stupid fucking running notes!” You let out, a groan of exasperation racing through you. Half slamming (you weren’t crazy) the piano cover down you swung the door of the practice room open. You didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Trying to ignore the embarrassment that rose up seeing Xiao waiting on a chair next to the door you went to walk down the hallway.

“You should work on it with a dotted sixteenth note pattern.”

It was the first time that Xiao had ever spoken to you.

Afterwards a rapport slowly grew between the two of you. Often Xiao said nothing as you passed, rarely you made a gesture of recognition when he finally reappeared from the practice room. However soon the occasional word or phrase of advice grew into longer sentences, later these sentences evolved into pieces of conversation. Soon enough you discovered, to your slight horror, that you found yourself yearning for Xiao’s company.

Almost as soon as you’d finally figured out your feelings you were hit with a wave of denial. You weren’t falling for Xiao? How could you fall for someone who got on your nerves so much? Sure he gave you advice, but what about it? You deserved it after having to hear him over and over again while waiting. Certainly Xiao didn’t seem interested in you, he barely talked to you! Yeah he was getting more talkative, but it’s easier to talk to people when you’re giving them advice. There’s no way you were in love with Xiao. And there was no way he was in love with you.

To say that Xiao’s career as a musician, never mind his genuine technical talent at two instruments, was a barrier would be an understatement. The moment you thought you were making some progress, finally admitting to yourself that this crush was, in fact, real, a wave of anxiety would pass over you. Xiao was too good for you, he was too important. Here was a man who had a successful musical career already up in the air while you banged frustratedly on the keys. Why would someone that successful be interested in you? Not to mention the fact that he didn’t seem interested.

Because, you had to admit, you did like Xiao’s music. Not just his classical repertoire, but his pop music as well. It was slightly jazzy, mellow and playful and utterly unlike the scowling musician behind it – something you secretly thought extremely cute and surprisingly charming. To him you were just a practice roommate, and you were sure he’d find the idea of dating someone who was more familiar with his public persona irritating.

So you buried your feelings, or tried to. Unfortunately like sometimes attracts like, and just as Xiao secretly had the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, you weren’t nearly as clever about things as you would like.

“Is there something on my face?” Xiao asked, his voice gruff and slightly reluctant.

“No, why would there be?”

“Because you’re staring at it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You let your head drop, looking intently at the ivories in front of you. Eventually there was a sigh.

“You don’t have to do that. I… I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! You staring down is weird too. Let’s, let’s just hurry up and do this passage.”

After that you became more aware of your staring habit. You also became more aware of Xiao’s own habit, leaning towards you. Sometimes you swore that you could feel the tips of his hair tickling your neck, light and feathery and stealing all your attention.

“Hey, Xiao, do you need glasses?”

“Why would you asked that!” Xiao flared up, face reddening. By this time you’d become more accustomed to these flareups of grumpiness, and ignoring it you pressed on.

“It’s just, you seem to be leaning forward.”

“I’m not!” Immediately Xiao shifted back, almost stepping away. Without thinking about it you reached to grab his hand.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing!” You got out, before becoming aware of your hand grasping Xiao’s. The touch felt electric, and you were suddenly so very aware of everything, yet unable to focus at all.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Xiao grumbled.

Slowly the musician leaned closer to you once more. You had already half stood up and now you found yourself stepping closer to Xiao. The world continued to shrink until you were almost pressed together. Xiao was leaning forward, as were you, and the longer tufts of his hair were tickling your cheek, helped by the fan whirring away in the corner. Your hand was still in his, but all your thoughts appeared to have died away.

“Xiao?”

“Is this, too close?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Xiao?”

“What?”

“I like your music. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know. I just, I also like you, not just your music. But I also like your music.”

“I also like yours too.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but at that point you were far too carried away by the moment, or maybe by the fact that was the most sentences Xiao had strung together that weren’t about triplets. Regardless of the fact, you were suddenly seized by incredible happiness, as all appeared to right itself.

Afterwards initially little changed, Xiao was a gruff as ever, you were still itching to play in the practice room more. Nevertheless when you went to a concert of his for the first time and he let out a small, almost imperceptible, smile your way you knew things had changed. They would keep changing perhaps, or maybe they wouldn’t. After all, this moment was beautiful.

So much that you didn’t even mind the hours spent waiting for the practice room.

[thgreatestblue]

false god [part II]

➜ pairing: kokushibou x fem!reader ➜ warnings: mention of prostituion, past trauma, smut, fluff (if you squint) ➜ words: 7.5k ➜ a/n: let’s start this hell of a year with a very long and spicy chapter, shall we? this is the second part of my fic false god, and i’m so excited to hear your thoughts for this chapter. thanks to everyone who left comments or likes, it made me so excited that now i’m already writing the third and final chapter!  ➜ ao3

➜ false god [part I] / false god [part III]

summary: The last piece of the puzzle you’ve been trying to put it together finally appears right in front of you, completing the picture you so feared to see, but knew that eventually it was going to be revealed. You understood everything now.

III.

The stars were brighter on this side of the country; there were an infinity of them, painting a beautiful pathway to heaven throughout the horizon. The sky was illuminated by their shine, in a space of time where they danced around the galaxy and lit up each corner of the universe, never letting darkness prevail. 

Or, it was just because you have been so afraid of the night for so many years, that only now you were able to fully appreciate its beauty. How the moonshine gleamed over the flowers and the petals seemed to sparkle tiny bits of stars over their form, so delicate you were afraid of touching — the white ones were your favorite, smooth like satin. 

Kokushibou’s house was in the countryside, in the middle of nowhere. The servants even had a special wagon and a few horses for when they needed to buy supplies. It was far away from the city noises; the chatting and the everyday life. Far away from the smell of cement and street food. From people; good and bad. From memories and dreams. From everything. 

It's been a few weeks since the first time you stepped into this world, one that was kinder than you expected. The servants were always calm, doing their tasks in such a peaceful motion that it was soothing to watch. It was a perfect mundane life, going to sleep covered in comfortable blankets instead of stick sweat, eating with others while talking without fear of being too loud. 

It was strange to think that everyday you caught yourself thinking this was a dream; because everytime you look at the flowers in the backyard, every time you felt the wind on your face and the warmth of the sun on your skin, you remembered of long lost dreams about having a normal life, hopes that were on the verge of dying, resurfacing in the deeps of your mind. It made your dreams a little bit happier, almost as if you were floating in a different dimension. 

The house had two floors; the first one is were the kitchen, the living room, the dinning room, and where the servant’s bedrooms were located — and even though when you lived with Muzan you had your own room, you didn't mind sharing with another girl if it meant to stay in this peace forever. 

The second floor though, you didn't know much about it. Only that it was where Kokushibou bedroom was, and where he spent most of his time, since he would only appear when the sun settled down. Sometimes you would hear heavy footsteps and noises of something being hit multiple times, so maybe it had a training room as well. 

You were on the second floor only a few times, most of them by his request — to ask you how things were going, if you were adjusting to the job. It was so unfamiliar, having a Demon, of all people, being so polite and thoughtful of your well being. You were definitely not used to kindness — to someone showing a minimum of respect — that everytime you would slightly blush, looking at his feet rather than his face. 

It was so out of your comfort zone, being treated like a human being. You sometimes had to laugh at how twisted your world had become to think that a simple “good morning!” from one of the servants was an act of generosity. One day you caught yourself tearing up as you watched the sunrise from the window. 

To what extent have you been broken? The pieces you always tried to put it back together now didn't seem to fit anymore; it was going to be a long way to find the right materials to build a new house for your heart, but at least you were given the chance to try. And if anyone had told you it was because of a Demon, you would have laughed. 

Kokushibou's presence was still heavy and unsettling for you. It still managed to keep you on your toes. Whenever he would appear from his bedroom, or even hearing his voice from another room, a red siren would go off in your mind. It was still a rooted fear you couldn't help feeling, no matter how much you repeated to yourself that everything was fine. 

His gaze on you didn't help the seed of doubt from staying rooted on your mind. Although the Demon didn't stay in the house at night — preferring going out and coming back only when the sun was about to show in the sky. However, on rare days when he chose to remain home, you would always try your best to stay far away; washing the dishes in the kitchen, feeding the horses, anything other than being at his company. 

It wasn't because you were afraid, not exactly, the old lady had said that in the beginning it was normal to stay alert when in his presence. It was something else. How his eyes seemed to always find its way to you, fixing on watching your movements from afar, traveling down your body when you were cleaning a room, or even when you were just standing next to him. 

You still remember how high you jumped one night when Kokushibou decided that it was a good idea asking for more towels for his bathroom by whispering in your ear. You’ve been dealing with Demons and men for so long in your life, it wasn't now that you were going to slip into wherever game he was playing. So, you tried your best to ignore those little things, moving on with your life as if his glance didn't make something crawl under your skin, begging to be scratched. 

As the night came and Kokushibou decided to stay inside, you found yourself in the kitchen, washing the dishes from the dinner. There’s a beautiful song playing on the radio, and the sweet melody makes you lose track of time, lost in imaginary scenarios and charming tales. When you come back, the dishes are done. 

Taking a long look at the kitchen, you notice that there’s nothing else to do; which means that you would have to come to the living to see if Kokushibou wanted something else, or you could go to sleep. You take a deep breath, leaving the apron on the table as you walk towards the room. The song is still playing but the volume has been tuned down. 

Kokushibou is seated next to the bookcase, reading. He seems so peaceful and unharmful like that — if it wasn't for those pair of eyes, you would have never guessed he was a Demon. His hair is always tied up on a ponytail, and sometimes you can’t help but imagine how he would look with it down. You immediately shake your head, trying to erase those intrusive thoughts that have been more frequent by each day. 

“Kokushibou-dono.” 

As a habit, you bow to announce your presence. As you look around, you notice that there’s no one in the room besides him. Probably already too late in the night to have many servants around, you glance at the clock and it was indeed past midnight. Before you can say anything else, he closes the book, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. 

“Do you know how to dance, Y/N?” 

Saying that you were surprised by the question was an understatement. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out of it. Well, you did know how to dance, however, you highly suspect that it wasn’t that type of dance he was referring to. Your heartbeat starts to accelerate, something you were already used to when in the same room as the man.

“No, Kokushibou-dono,” Your voice sounds weaker than you intended, but that was another thing you were getting used to; apparently your body liked to react as a mess when in his presence, “I’ve never had the chance to learn.”

Kokushibou nods, getting up from the pillow he was seated on. And even after weeks, it was still mesmerizing to watch him move; how his hair would graciously swing from one side to another, his posture always so elegant and refined, even the way he walked was hypnotizing. He definitely was born as someone who belonged to a royal family. You wondered why, then. Why did he turn into a Demon if he was so skilled and polished like a real diamond?

“Follow me.” 

Before you can think too much about it, you follow him. Hands on your back, picking at your nails as anxiety starts to settle on your stomach; the odd feeling on your gut appearing from nowhere to poke at you, telling you to be careful and keep your eyes open. You watch him turn the volume a little bit higher.

“It gets easier once you learn the basics.” He says, looking at you from the middle of the room. The radio was playing a delicate melody that was perfect to put you to sleep, although right now not even the sweetest song would be able to calm you down. 

“… I don't understand.” You say, shifting your weight from one leg to another.

“I’m teaching you how to dance.” Kokushibou simply explains, fixing the sleeves of his kimono with a serene expression; as if nothing was wrong, as if this was normal.

You hold your breath as he extends his hand in your direction. The look on his eyes is almost inviting if it wasn't for the fact that he was a Demon, and above everything else, your lord. There's a very fragile line Kokushibou is crossing by inviting you to dance, inviting you to be intimate with him. And you're not sure if you are ready to face the consequences — to take a step in a territory that he has been cornering you since the moment you arrived. 

However, like everything in your life, you don't have a choice. So, you release the air you were holding, pressing your lips together as each step in his direction starts to consume your entire body. Kokushibou's gaze is fixed on your face — if becoming a mess of yourself in front of him was one of your habits, his stare on you was one of his. 

You hesitate before touching his hand. His fingers brush against your palm, so delicate that you have to double remember yourself of your position, of who the man was. Kokushibou hands were rough and big against yours, but held your palm on his with a tender flow. You bite your lips as he grabs your other hand and puts on his shoulder.

Kokushibou hums with the song as his other hand comes to rest on the small of your back; the sound vibrates in his chest and through your skin. It was as if you were struck by lightning; every hair on your body standing with every touch. 

“It’s an easy six steps tempo, just follow my lead.” Kokushibou’s voice so close to your ears is sinful; it’s dangerous. His low tone always did things to your stomach, and you knew it wasn't because of fear. 

Kokushibou nods at you before taking a few steps around, leading your body to move with his own. He’s so close you can feel his heat, the ghost of his breath on your neck sends shivers down your spine. It takes all of your will to not stare at his hand holding yours, your legs already having some trouble to work properly.

“I’m sorry...” You flinch as you step on his foot, but he doesn't say anything. 

It was quite an easy dance, and the way Kokushibou lead you made it even easier — if it wasn't for your nervousness it would have been almost fun. You watched his feet move from side to side until the rhythm was stuck in your mind, focusing on the dance instead of his body so close to yours - which was hard, every step making you come closer and closer. 

“Eyes on me.” Kokushibou whispers close to your ear. 

You immediately look up at him, his voice takes you out of the trance you had created to stay safe. And it takes only one look at him to make everything come crumbling down. The hand on your back brings you closer and your mouth slightly parts, breathing through it seems easier when his chest comes to touch yours. 

Kokushibou squeezes your hand lightly as your eyes travel down his face. Up close like this, you can see each detail, his title of Upper-Moon One carved on his eyes, the texture of his perfect skin, the intrinsic shape of the red marks adorning his forehead — he’s indeed a beautiful man with interesting features. 

It’s only when he hums again with the song that you realize you have been staring at his mouth for too long, a smirk growing at the corners of it is enough to shake you out of your trance; cheeks going warm and red in shame. Kokushibou presses a little closer to your body and you feel like combusting in flames with the feeling of his breath against your neck.

The song slowly fades away, and he continues to guide you as it finally comes to an end. Kokushibou gradually stops his movements, but still holds your hand, maintaining you in place. And you don’t know what to do with yourself; standing in the middle of the room with his stare still pinning you down, the touch of his rough hands still holding yours. 

“Thank you, Kokushibou-dono.” It takes all of the strength left in your body to pull back, taking a few step backwards. 

You are the first one to move and break the little bubble you two created. Kokushibou nods, letting you go from his hold. The weight of his hand still linger on your back, a ghostly feeling that you knew wouldn't go away that easily, if ever. 

“Good night.” You could only hope your voice wasn’t trembling as much as you were on the inside.

You bow, turning around and making your way back to your room. Trying your best not to run from his gaze, form his touch, from everything that had happened in the past few hours. 

With your heartbeat on your throat and the phantom feeling of his body still pressed into yours, you scream into the pillow until fatigue comes to take over you — putting you out of your misery, for now at least.

IV.

You could complain as much as you wanted, but Kokushibou’s home was so much better than Muzan’s. The opportunity to stay in the sun in the morning, feel the breeze hitting your skin as you washed the bedding in the backyard, the warm of the sun on your skin everyday even helped gaining a little more of color. As the summer went by; the sight of rain gracing your eyes, birds flying around the field with their beautiful singing, you realized how deprived you’ve been from simple things. 

For 3 years you had stayed in the dark, almost never leaving Muzan’s house — surrounded by darkness and the metallic smell of blood, with no friends to help you when the nights were too scary. The only thing you liked was the sounds of the city, but even that became a nightmare, to think that there were so many victims in a single place would give you so much anxiety. 

Even though Kokushibou was still a Demon, this was a far cry from the place you were just a few months ago. You couldn't say it was the best option though, you were still involved with a supernatural being that could easily kill you in a blink of an eye. The only difference was that he did seem to respect who worked for him — and an extra interest in you. 

Taking another bite of a very sweet apple, you swing your leg casually, humming a random song while you were sitting on the big porch at the back of the house. The yard extended until it reached an infinity of trees, covering your view of the pond a few minutes from the house. You had heard it was a beautiful place, but havent had the time to go yet. 

“Y/N, Kokushibou-dono is calling for you.” The old lady calls you from the window. You silently nod, taking a long breath before looking at the sky. 

It had been a few weeks since he invited you to dance; since he had touched you in such an intimate way that no lord should be touching his servants. The odd sensation still lingered in your gut, but the feeling of his firm body against yours, his big and strong hand on the small of your back, the warmth of his breath against your skin, his lips inches from your neck… Gods, it was enough to send you to a place where you wouldn't be able to come back even if you tried; already lost in those six eyes all over again. 

It has been a tough task to pretend that the small moment didn't affect you. The aftertaste stuck in your tongue like the sweetest apple you’ve ever eaten, and you hated to see yourself in such a state. Everytime he would enter a room, every time his eyes stared at you, hearing his voice… Your body would tense, goosebumps spreading through your body, but this time not because of fear. 

No man has ever had this impact on you, and you’ve been with quite a lot of them. 

It was still afternoon, the sun shining in the sky was a sight you would never take from granted again. What does he want with me now? You ponder, thinking about the last time he had asked for you. You were supposed to just hand him the ink, but of course he had to touch your hand for a little bit too long while grabbing it. 

What Kokushibou wanted from you was something you could only imagine, there was nothing predictable about him. But if you dared to listen to the odd feeling in your gut, you knew exactly what it was going to happen — you were just denying it at this point. 

Throwing away the rest of the apple, you make your way upstairs with your heart in your throat. Each step closer to his bedroom felt like an eternity, the hallway seeming like an endless corridor while the tension building up in your muscles were making your body ache. Stopping by his door, you run your hand through your hair; fixing the few strands that had escaped from your bun behind your ears. You take a deep breath to calm down your nerves before knocking on the door.

There’s a small pause before you can hear the sound of a chair dragging just a little across the floor, you can practically feel the expectancy choking you as you hear him stepping closer. You bite down your bottom lip right at the moment Kokushibou decides to open the door.

“Kokushibou-dono, how can I help you today?” You try to sound as casual as possible, trying your best to ignore the way his eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds before meeting your eyes. 

“Come in,” He says, walking back inside his bedroom, “And close the door.”

A strong chill runs down your spine and you have to strain yourself from quivering; a thin layer of sweat is forming on the palm of your hands, but you quickly clean it on your clothes. There was no use to be nervous right now, you were already at the predator’s door, head right inside his mouth, just waiting for its teeth to sink on your neck and break it. 

Kokushibou's presence brought another type of nervousness, one that left you shaking from head to toe; but instead of cold settling in your stomach, it was pure fire consuming your entire being. 

As you step inside, closing the door with your back, you take a quick look at the room. It’s fairly simple and definitely what you expected; a big and expensive futon is placed right in the middle, the bedding is clean and tidy up — something he probably never uses but keeps it as a habit. There’s two paper lanterns at each side of the futon, the light coming from them is minimal, leaving the room with a somewhat cozy atmosphere. 

You see him standing beside a table by the corner of the room. There’s a few books piled up at one side, a wooden tray with a few bottles and glasses on the other. He picks one of the bottles and pours himself a glass, filling just half of it. 

The liquid is thick and dark; you can’t see what it is, but you have an idea — Muzan used to drink blood in front of you all the time, and you always wondered when he would want to drink directly from a source. Then, he picks another bottle, and pours another glass. The liquid seems more diluted and a shader brighter, this time the smell hits your nostrils; it’s wine. 

Kokushibou grabs both of the glasses, and holds one in your direction. He looks calm and collected; there’s no room to interpret his actions, his features never giving away what he was really thinking. The light hits one side of his face, the other is half hidden by the shadows, but it’s clear how all of his eyes are staring at you, his hair is in a perfect ponytail, swinging perfectly as he moves to hand you the glass.

“...Thank you.” Fingers brushing against yours, you take the glass. 

Your gut screams something you can’t seem to hear; it seems like your mind went numb the moment you entered the room — not listening to any of the alarms that went off in your head. You can only feel your stomach tossing and turning around as you watch the man leaning on the table, studying you from behind the shadows like a predator plotting how to kill its prey.

“Before working for Muzan-sama, you worked at Yoshiwara.” Kokushibou says in a low tone, taking a sip of the drink.

Immediately, your cheeks burn. You clench your jaw as the sour memories start to come back from the deepest of your mind. He wasn't asking a question, it was rather a statement - and you had a few ideas how he got that information. Biting the inside of your cheek, you take a long sip of the wine — and for the first time you’re glad that he decided to give you the beverage.

“I worked for Daki for some time,” You tell him, feeling the bitter taste in each word, “She introduced me to Muzan after I kept my promise of not telling anyone about her.”

It wasn't something you were proud of, not in the slightest. You were just in the wrong place, at the wrong time. You had been so close from dying that night that anything else felt so little, compared to facing a Demon with a bloodlust so high that you couldn't count how many bodies you had seen that night. 

However, it was covering up that atrocity, or dying. And you didn't want to face what afterlife had in store for you that soon. So you begged and cried, and like a miracle, Daki gave you the benefit of the doubt. After that, it only took 5 months from that incident for you to come work at Muzan’s house; selling your fate once again. 

“So you did work at a brothel, didn't you?” His fingers tap the wooden table and you have to hold yourself still, trying not to shrink under his words. He stops the glass midway from his mouth, choosing to drink your reaction instead. 

You did work as a prostitute, didn't you?

The silent question hangs in the air, you can’t bring yourself to open your mouth, to move. It was quite clear that he knew everything about you, there was no need to lie or hide any information, it would only piss him off. 

However, the fact that he was making you say it - confirming the fact himself — was something that felt a bit degrading. You finally nod, not being able to find your voice anymore. Then again, it wasn't something you were proud of — apparently, you weren't proud of anything in your life. 

Kokushibou slowly takes a sip of his drink then, eyes traveling down from your face to your body; studying every inch of your being. And every single part his eyes gazed upon, it would set your skin in flames, until you were combusting in anticipation.

“Show me.”

Your heart stops beating for a second only to come back at full force; and it hurts your chest, the impact leaves your rib cage aching at each pound of your desperate heart.  

“...I beg your pardon?” You had to ask, you probably heard it wrong and this was your mind playing tricks with you, you knew how twisted it could get. There was no chance that Kokushibou was asking you to...

“I told you to show me,” He says in a challenging tone, raising an eyebrow, “Or did you lose your touch?” 

Suddenly, everything falls into place.

The last piece of the puzzle you’ve been trying to put it together finally appears right in front of you, completing the picture you so feared to see, but knew that eventually it was going to be revealed. You understood everything now. 

All those long stares, the need to touch your skin every time he had the chance, the dance… Everything was just small steps he was taking, leading you to a direction he had in mind since the beginning. Building you up for this moment; so you wouldn't hesitate, so you wouldn't run away; afraid of what might happen.

Kokushibou wasn’t a stranger asking for your services, not anymore. Because you had had a taste beforehand, because he had built you up into someone who would want him as much as he apparently wanted you.

The worst part was: it worked.

“What if i don't want to?” 

All your life you were never given an option. It was selling your body or dying in the streets. It was waking up everyday knowing that you were covering up dozens of murders, or being murdered by the hand of a Demon. It was hearing screams of agony as you laid your head on the pillow, or being the one devoured. It was never what you wanted, but what you needed to do to survive. However, for this you needed to have a choice.

“Then, you can turn around and leave.” He says with no heat in his voice, motioning towards the door.

For some twisted reason, now that you truly knew what he wanted from you all this time, you relaxed. The tension left your bones as your mind processed his words. Your gut didn’t scream anymore, the pitch of your stomach now was filled with another type of warmth. 

Kokushibou was a beautiful man, and somehow you knew this wasn't going to be bad. Not when he could have just pushed you in a room and had his way. Probably it was his pride not letting him act so animalistic, choosing to have a partner that was on the same page; reciprocity.

You finish the rest of the wine in one single gulp, letting the drink burn down your throat. 

Approaching him, you sensually bite your bottom lip, letting the glass on the table before slowly getting down on your knees — if you were really going to do this, then you would put on a show. 

Feather touching his thighs, you leave a few soft kisses on his crotch over his clothes, he hums in response, watching you closely as you grow bolder with open mouth kisses, feeling his cock respond to the stimulus through the thin fabric.

Kokushibou licks his lips, glass long forgotten by his side — you had his full attention now. His hands were gripping at the side of the table as he watched you; and you made sure to watch him back, each moment caught by your eyes; two could play this game. As soon as you start to untie the knot of his hakama, his hand comes to rest on your cheek, his thumb caressing it while the other fingers wrapped around your neck. 

You tease at first, lapping and sucking sweetly at his head, your hands squeezing at the base. His taste is strong and heavy on your mouth, a little bit salty but you don’t mind. You look at him between half open eyes, batting innocently your eyelashes at him. He groans low in satisfaction, as you feel his cock grow harder on your tongue. You think about keeping teasing him, but then he eagerly pulls your neck closer, and you swallow down his full length in a swift motion. 

It hits the back of your throat, and you have to fight back your gag reflex — it has been quite a while since you did this. He groans louder in approval, still rubbing your cheek while you swallow down his length again. Hands starting to move up and down, you fall into an easy pacing, bobbing up and down your head as you suck his cock, lips closed tight around it to give the right amount of pressure. 

Kokushibou's hand grips even tighter around your neck each time you swallow him down, tongue rubbing against his length. A little bit of saliva drips down the corner of your mouth and he cleans it with his thumb, running it over your bottom lip that is now red and swollen. You glance up at him, always trying to keep eye contact. 

His eyes start to fall half open, mouth slightly open, his breathing starting to become unsteady. You reach between his thighs to stroke his balls, and his moan vibrates through his body and you can feel it on your mouth. It makes you eager, sucking him harder, wanting to hear more of those sounds coming from him. 

And because you can’t help, you let your teeth slightly scrape along his cock. The sharp inhale Kokushibou takes is music to your ears. He grips your hair and pulls it as punishment, making you whine at the burning sensation on your scalp, but it’s worth it. 

The grip on your hair tightens as he pulls your head back until only the tip of his cock is inside your mouth. Then, he bucks his hips further; fucking your mouth in a ruthless pace. All you can do is take it, holding onto his tights as hard as you can, trying to not gag as he shoves his cock down your throat. You can taste his precum filling your mouth, heavy on your tongue. 

He pulls your head back again, and you release his cock from your mouth with a loud pop.

"That's enough.” He commands, voice low and rough that makes you shiver. You watch his cock stand against his stomach in full length, he’s big, “Now, undress.”

Before getting up though, you lick at the side of his cock, from the base to the tip, leaving a wet kiss at his head and Kokushibou groan resonates through his chest. He unties the ribbon that was holding your bun, and your hair falls loosely on your back. 

All of his six eyes are following your movements as you stand, fixed on each swing of your hips, each batting of eyelashes you throw at him. What once made you flinch, now is more than welcoming. It sets on your bones like a tender touch, sweet like honey as you savor all of his lust. Lust for you. 

You move your body sensually; throwing back your loose hair to show more of your neck, running your hands down your chest as each piece of clothing falls into the floor. Now that you knew exactly what to do — what he really wanted from you — it was so much easier to stay under his gaze without quivering, even when he started to lazily stroke his cock while watching you undress. 

When the last piece of clothing falls into the floor, you turn around, spinning on your heels. It had been awhile since you showed off your naked body to someone, the confidence that you had a few years ago decreased slightly, but seeing how Kokushibou was affected by the display — hand now stroking his cock faster — was enough to dismiss all the doubt starting to rise on the back of your mind. He has chosen you, after all.

You step closer, grabbing his kimono and sliding down his strong arms, tossing on the ground without batting an eye to see his reaction. At the first glimpse of his bare chest, your mouth waters. You knew he was strong, but hell, he was ripped. His body was so perfectly sculpted that you have to bite your lips to stop the small whine daring to escape your mouth. Your hands travel down his stomach, feeling the very defined muscles with the tip of your fingers. 

Kokushibou grabs your chin, his breath hits your skin like fire. It spreads down your body and you shiver from the ecstasy of his touch; there’s a certain expectation growing on your being, waiting patiently until the final moment when he decides to fuck you — and damn it your sanity for not wanting anything else right now. His eyes are locked on your lips, red and swollen from sucking his cock. He leans closer, but before he could meet your lips you pull back just a little bit.

“I don't kiss my clients.” Your voice comes out rasp, your lips brushing his. It’s an empty threat, however, you needed to tease him as much as you could before he fucked you out of your mind. 

“Good thing i’m not a client.” Kokushibou bites back, his grip tightens on your chin. 

He wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you towards him, and you come crashing into his body. You moan as his muscles rub against your nipples; feeling his cock, hot and erected, on your belly sends a wave of warmth down your belly. He moves his hips, slowly rubbing his cock on your clit. You throw your head back a little, moaning. 

“No. You aren't, my lord.” You manage to say between small whimpers of pleasure as he squeezes your ass and grinds harder against you. 

He groans at your words, and not wasting any more time, devours your mouth. It’s rough and borderline desperate, slamming your lips together with no room to breathe, the warmth of his skin intoxicating your better judgment. His mouth is unforgiven, teeth pulling and biting your bottom lip between kisses. You gasp in his mouth and he takes that as an opportunity to shove his tongue inside, yours coming to meet his, sliding against each other with desire on its tip. 

It’s dizzying the feeling of his touch on you, how he pulls your hair and runs his tongue on the seams of your lips. It clouds your head and increases your desire, making you rock against his body, your pussy pulses with desire, searching for some kind of relief from the tension building up on your lower belly. 

Kokushibou runs his lips down your neck, sucking then licking the spots he meets. It leaves you breathless, holding on his arms for dear life as he travels down your body and savors every single part of your tender skin. His tongue leaves trails of fire, marking each part with his saliva and brute carnal lust. 

Without any warning, Kokushibou bites down on your neck. It stings so much that you know it broke your skin, but you helplessly moan. It’s definitely going to bruise and it’s going to be ugly. But right now you don't care. He sucks the spot, drinking your blood as the best licor he ever had. 

Kokushibou sucks the sore spot again, making you whimper, before releasing you from his grip, pushing you away just a few inches so he could finish undressing the last pieces of clothing. And heavens, his body was even more perfect under the dim light coming from the lanterns; as the light casts shadows over his form, making the shape of his muscles sharper and defined. 

He puts both hands on your waist, motioning for you to walk towards the futon. Your heart beats faster on your chest. Kokushibou wasn’t a very vocal man, preferring showing what he wanted through actions. So, he pushes you, and you fall down on the soft surface with your legs open; his eyes immediately are filled with a different type of hunger, and you instantly can feel what he wants - though, this time, you wanted him to devour you. 

You hold yourself on your elbows as he kneels between your legs, and you can feel how wet you’re, though he didn't even do more than touch you. Damn, when did you become so desperate. You were already a mess, hair sticking on your forehead, breathing through your mouth because you can’t seem to make your lungs work anymore. 

Or maybe it was just him and his overpowering effect on you, like no one else ever did. 

His fingers hover over the delicate skin of your legs, traveling on the inside of your thigh in a feather touch that makes you whimper from how sensitive you are feeling from those small stimulations. You watch him from behind heavy lashes, his body in full glory over you should be a sin, it should be your salvation. 

How beautiful and desirable he was, standing in between your legs just like that, eating you out with just a gaze. You moan as you watch his body move, each muscle carved on his skin as a perfect work of art. Your eyes fall on his length and your pussy clench on nothing, wishing he would bury himself inside you already. 

“Turn around.” He commands in a low tone, leaning down and caging you in, hands fisted at either side of your head. 

Your breath gets caught up on your throat, suddenly he is so heavy above you that not a single thread of air gets on your lungs. You slowly nod, turning around so you would be lying on your stomach, then you push your hips backward, rubbing against his cock. The contact has both of you moaning. 

Kokushibou quickly grabs both sides of your hips to rub his cock between your folds, your head falls down between your shoulders as you moan desperately at his thrusts. His front is hot and firm against your back. But the way he’s teasing is tortuous; with slow drags of his length against your clit. It makes your whole body tremble underneath the pressure. 

“Kokushibou, please…” The pleading scapes your lips before you can process it. It makes your body burn in shame — never in years of working in the field you pleaded for someone. 

And you can feel how pleased he’s with himself when his mouth on your neck turns into a smirk. He bites down on your shoulder and you flinch, waiting for another wave of pain, but this time it’s gentle, still hard enough to leave a mark, though.

He positions his cock on your entrance, and you hold your breath, biting so hard on your bottom lip that you can taste blood. He pushes past your folds, pushing his way inside you so dangerously slow that has you moaning for more. You grip the sheets, knuckles going white. The burn that comes with him stretching you open is blinding, but you want more. 

You don’t know if he’s going slow on you because he wants to let you take your time to adjust to his size, or because he likes to see you plead for more. You try to push your hips backwards, to finally have his cock buried till the tip inside you, but he stops your movements with his strong hands, holding your hips in place. Yeah, definitely the latter.  

“Look at you, taking me all in with no struggle.” He purrs in your ear, still pushing half of his cock inside, “I’ll have to tell Daki that you are much more than what she sold you for.”

Your eyes grow wider with the confession, but before you can say anything, he shoves the rest of his length inside you and all the air is knocked off your lungs. He doesn't wait for you anymore, leaving just the very tip of his cock inside, then thrusting in you with enough force that has you tumbling over your arms, cheek buried in the sheets. 

Kokushibou falls into a rough rhythm, the sounds of skin on skin fills the bedroom as he slam his cock inside you, his nails digging deeper on your hips, biting down another spot on your shoulder. You moan, and then again, and again; each one louder than the other, not being able to hold back your voice with each drag of his cock. 

He deliciously stretches you open; the burning sensation fading away as pleasure overtakes it, your pussy clench around him, sucking him in. You thrust your hips to meet his movements, arching your back so your hips are higher, so he can go deeper. Every time he moans in your ear you feel yourself drifting from reality, mind clouded by the pleasure and by his voice. 

“Oh—nnh, harder,” 

With only his precum and your wetness easing his way, Kokushibou raw thrusts ruins you, making you feel each of them ten times more. The way he bites down on every inch of your body is animalistic, marking you all over. It’s going to be a pain to hide from the rest of the servants - but right now you can’t bring youself to think about that — asking him for more and more until you’re painted purple and blue. 

There’s no room to think, to breath. You were turned into a mess of whining and moans as he breaks you until there’s nothing left but your voice; hoarse, but surely screaming for him. He fucks you hard into the futon; your eyes roll back, toes curling with the upcoming orgasm, your entire body trembles over his thrusts.

Your knees almost give in, but Kokushibou holds your hips up, slamming inside you mercilessly, his moans starting to fill the room as well. The sounds coming from his thrusts are filthy and wet, but barely audible, your moans overtaking any type of noise. For once, you are grateful that this room doesn't have any windows, or else, everyone would’ve heard you by now — but you suspect that’s probably what he wants. 

“Aah, nnh, — K-Kokushibou!” You moan, not recognizing your own voice anymore.

Kokushibou cups your breast and squeezes harshly, dragging his nail over your nipple. You jerk away with the sting, but falls right back into his thrusts; it buries so deep inside you feel youself being torn apart, his cock throbbing inside meets the beats of your heart. Tears run down your cheeks, and he licks it as if he’s savoring each part of you that he can get. 

“You're a really one of a kind,” He whispers in your ear, biting down your lob, “And now, I have you all to myself.”

The heat on your stomach is unbearable, you can’t take it anymore, it’s consuming you, driving you over the edge so fast that you can’t put a stop on it. Your pussy tightens so hard around Kokushibou’s cock that he has to stop his thrusts, your scream is muffled by the sheets as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. 

Kokushibou doesn't let you catch your breath though. He pins your head down, slamming into you fast and rough that you have to ride down your orgasm while he continues to fuck you. You whimper, over sensitive, but he doesn't stop, moaning a bit louder as his thrusts starts to become more desperate and erratic. 

He comes inside you with a guttural moan that has you shivering, it shakes you down to your core, hitting the deepest part of your being. You moan while his cum, hot and thick, fills you up. 

Even though you were oversensitive, he continues to ride his orgasm lazyly thrusting into you until it starts to become borderline painful. Now that the adrenaline is leaving your body, you can feel your back aches from the position, your bones are heavy and all you want is to lay down and catch your breath.

Probably sensing your distress, Kokushibou stops his thrusts; but stays inside you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to the side, so both of you could lay on the futon. He buries his face on your neck, and even though the feeling of having a cock inside you after you both came is odd, you decide not to mention it. 

Your eyelids are heavy, you’re tired and still drunk from the orgasm. Usually at this moment you would get up and leave, but since Kokushibou didn't say or made any movement to let you go, you decide it’s safe enough to fall asleep just like that.

[hopeymchope]

Persona Lite with Fire Emblem sprinkles on top

I’ve been addicted to Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE Encore on my Switch for the past few weeks, and I’m getting close to wrapping it up. I figured it’s high time I talked about it a bit.

The game that would become Tokyo Mirage Sessions (TMS) was first announced as “Shin Megami Tensei x Fire Emblem,” which is absolutely not a good way to describe what this became. 

This title led so many people astray.

What comes to mind when you think of (mainline) Shin Megami Tensei games? An apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic setting. First-person-perspective battles. Negotiating with demons. Battles against deities. TMS contains a little bit of the third thing on that list, and none of the others. 

What comes to mind when you think of Fire Emblem? Medieval-era settings. Permadeath (either optional or mandatory). RTS-style combat. The famed “weapon triangle.” Support conversations. TMS contains the fourth thing on that list, and none of the others. 

But let’s be honest here: For most people (especially Westerners), the first thing you think of when you think about Shin Megami Tensei isn’t even the games with “Shin Megami Tensei” in the title. It’s the Persona series! They’ve grown far more popular than their parent franchise at this point.

So I suppose it was natural that TMS is, at its core, a “Persona Lite” game. The darker edges of Persona titles are removed in favor of something more T-friendly, but the basics are all there: A group of teenagers in modern-day Japan discover a strange alternate dimension that they can access which also gives them the ability to summon supernatural powers/entities. When people start to go missing in this other dimension, it falls to this group of teens to unite and save the day, ultimately leading to them discovering the reason why this alternate world has been bleeding into modern Japan in the first place and, in the end, saving humanity from annihilation. That’s totally how Persona works, and it’s also totally how Tokyo Mirage Sessions works!

However, instead of summoning Shin Megami Tensei demons as “Personas,” the heroes of TMS summon Fire Emblem characters that are “Mirages.” Each character is permanently linked to a single Mirage, so there are no “Wild Card” characters here. However, you can level the characters’ mirages up to make them take on new forms and new abilities. FE fans will notice that all of the characters here are from the Falchion/Tiki/Shadow Dragon stories - the two Marth adventures (Shadow Dragon/Mystery of the Emblem) and the semi-recent 3DS hit Awakening.

For some weird reason, all of the Fire Emblem “mirages” wear helmets, masks, or other face coverings 100% of the time. The only exception is Tiki.

The lack of the darker themes in many Persona games and the fact that there’s no “Wild Card” to manage is what makes this, in my opinion, more like PERSONA LITE. And then you get your Fire Emblem backup characters to serve as extra flavoring. The characters we meet from Fire Emblem are rarely the focus — you spend most of your time with the teen heroes — but they still manage to show off their unique personalities and carry in a load of FE fanservice. (The good kind of fanservice where it’s full of references and nods to the continuity of the series, I mean. Not the other kind where it’s softcore porn.)

Fire Emblem fanservice was one of the biggest delights for me here. If you’re looking for any SMT/Persona characters to pop up and link the continuity together, you can stop looking because they aren’t here. But if you want to see specific characters from the three source FE games pop up here, a metric ton manage to do so. For example: Tharja (from Awakening) creates two golems for training purposes, which she names Bord and Cord after the pair of heroes from Marth’s era. And then the actual spirits of Bord and Cord possess those golems. So naturally, they start bickering and fighting. It’s delightful. 

So yeah, there’s plenty of nods for FE fans to appreciate even if your favorite characters are taking a back seat to a bunch of teenagers. Fire Emblem fans will recognize the heroic mirages, the enemy boss mirages, the weapon triangle weakness/strength system and lots of musical cues. On the flip side, Persona fans will recognize the story structure, the magic spells the characters wield (things like “Mazio” and “Diarama” and “Rakukaja”), the common enemies you encounter and cameos from a few of the more famous demons found on signage around Tokyo. Sadly, there are no familiar sounds or music pieces borrowed from SMT/Persona that I noticed.

In addition to the main story, there are also “Side Stories” for your party and side quests from various NPCs. The whole game lasts around 50 hours even if you aren’t trying to 100% it.

And while the music here is mostly pretty good — especially the Fire Emblem themes — I really wish we’d gotten some Persona-style tunes in here. Persona soundtracks are absolutely killer and everybody knows it. I wanted to hear some Shihoko Hirata, some Lotus Juice, some Yumi Kawamura, some Lyn Inaizumi. Alas, that never happens. Sad face.

In fact, as far as vocal tracks go, you’ll only be hearing the performances of the main characters. See, the story this time revolves around a group of teens who are hired by a talent agency to become young starlets of the stage and screen. You meet plenty of pop idols, a cooking show host, aspiring actors, and those who do combinations of the above. There’s a lot of focus on the Japanese entertainment industry, and it’s mostly a very positive portrayal about how hard teen stars work to reach their dreams and how fulfilling it can be when they express themselves through their artistic pursuits. Speaking as someone who legitimately does not care one iota about the idol industry in Japan or Asia as a whole, I’m very happy that these characters managed to remain likable and their pursuits stayed enjoyable throughout. No one here is an ultra-deep character, but no one here is a total cipher, either. I’m additionally thankful that the vocal songs are another highlight of the soundtrack alongside the FE tunes. 

The last thing I’ll bring up is the “Sessions” mentioned in the title. It’s a battle mechanic wherein striking an enemy with a weapon or element they’re weak to will enable other characters to start jumping in with follow-up attacks. At first, it’s just one or two follow-ups, but by the game’s end, you might be sitting there for 15 or more consecutive strikes on an enemy after you initiate a “Session” of follow-ups. The greatest quality-of-life improvement built into this Switch port is that you can turn on “Quick Session” to make these attack animations much shorter and more rapid than they ever were in the Wii U original. I never had to play that one, but I can’t imagine I’d have much patience for constantly triggering 15 attack animations with every round. SO glad I don’t have to sit through that.

This is just a two-strike Sessions, so it won’t last long enough for you to take a beverage break.

So yeah, there’s a lot for RPG fans, Persona fans, and most of all, Fire Emblem fans to dig in “Tokyo Mirage Sessions.” And since we already covered that Danganronpa fans are apparently predisposed to enjoying Persona and Fire Emblem, that probably means that YOU, dear reader, are likely to dig this game as well. 

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Hallenstadion in Zürich, Switzerland - April 16, 1982 (Part-1)

(x)

The first of two nights in Zürich is an excellent early tour performance. Freddie is strong throughout (though cracking and breaking here and there), singing nearly every song with unique embellishments, particularly in Liar. He references Back Chat three separate times in a half-hour span, the third of which the band finally join in on.

Freddie's vocal improvisations are often very soul-induced on this tour, fueled by his love for all things Aretha Franklin. In fact, he would even invite the Milton Keynes audience a couple months later to sing like her during Now I'm Here. Later on the tour in Japan, he would even reference one of her songs during Another One Bites The Dust.

He makes small talk with the audience before Staying Power, talking about the new album. "See, if you ask me the right questions, I wanna give you the right answers. Any other questions, c'mon?" After a brief pause, "Have I got a big dick?" After the song, he says, "We fucking well gotcha now," with "gotcha" being the last word of Staying Power.

The Mustapha intro is a bit lackluster though, as the tuning note for Fat Bottomed Girls (D) given to Freddie is much lower than the usual G. He realizes this too late and must finish it in the much lower key.

This is a rare Queen show where Brian May doesn't do a solo spot.

Overall there is a very positive vibe on stage on this European tour, as is evidenced by all the twists and turns the band would take on most nights. Freddie's voice is in fantastic shape for the next couple months, and the rest of the band remain strong and consistent.

Some video footage of Under Pressure from soundcheck was broadcast on French TV on April 18, the day before the first Paris show, along with interviews of Freddie and Brian. A voiceover makes it difficult to hear most of what's said in the interviews, but Mercury is briefly heard remarking "we've already done three shows so far" before the voiceover cuts back in, which clarifies the date. Another indicator is that roadies are seen loading in gear, which wouldn't happen on a second night.

(x)

Fan Stories

“I went to see both concerts of the Hot Space tour. The album was not released yet so people had some question marks about it. The sounds and lights were in my eyes the best ever – especially the light design was just fantastic, futuristic and awesome. Freddie was very strong on the first night – brillant singing and guiding the audience. The tape recorder of the bootleg was near to me – so you can hear me singing (the voice that HITS the notes, not the others…). On the second night they played less songs (Somebody to Love) and Freddie seemed a little less enthusiastic about the gig than the night before. But still – just brillant. I liked very much the new songs – to me, Hot Space has really strong pearls which performed live were real killers.” - Luca Rascher

Part-2

[pompompurin1028]

Hi hi! It’s once again me 👀💕 Ah you blessed me so much today Kat, I feel way too happy that we’re talking about this stuff😭

So ahem, as for the recommendations, I wouldn’t recommend starting with Requiem, it’d be like watching the season finale before getting to know the characters, it wouldn’t make any sense. I’d prefer that you at first get to know the usual cheerful and comforting Mozart before discovering his darker side, since the reason it gives such a big joy to me is because it’s rare and unusual for him. Think of it as a side of your personality that you only show to your closest ones. So for now, in order to not overwhelm you, I’ll tell you two of my favourite pieces of him!

First of all, Piano Concerto no.23. I definitely recommend this recording, you can’t even guess how much the quality of recordings change the vibe of the piece. I’m listening to the first movement as I write this in order to get in the mood, and I’m already about to have tears in my eyes haha- This work gives me such an immense comfort with its beauty. If I had to choose one adjective to describe Mozart’s music, it would be beautiful. You’ll definitely see what I mean with this one. Mozart is known for his beautiful melodies, and the first movement’s main melody is still in my top 5. Just rest and let your soul flow with the soft touch of the wonderful pianist. 💕

I’ll also have to say that the second movement is even purer🥺 Pay attention to the softness of the emotions there, it starts with a soft piano section and then the moment where the orchestra comes in for the first time (12.08) always gives me tears. And pay attention to the ending of that movement! (17.25) You’ll hear a short passage where the strings start making a tic-tac sound, just like a ticking clock. It always gives me such a strange feeling… it makes me question everything, the notion of time, of life, I don’t even know what I’m feeling at this point it’s just too beautiful😭

The first two movements definitely surpass the 3rd, but it’s still very joyful, the usual cheerful Mozart stuff~

And as for the second piece, it’s his Concerto for Flute and Harp. For this one, I recommend this recording.

This piece… I probably won’t be able to find the right words to express its beauty, pureness, innocence. I simply can’t.

The first movement: you’ll hear how soft the flute and harp can sound together. That melody… Mozart, that melody came from the heaven to your hands. This has always been my biggest comfort piece, comfort melody even. It’s usually always the first part where the melody is purely introduced to the listener without any addition, so pay attention to the beginning if you want to recognize the melody throughout the piece which makes the experience more enjoyable~ It’s not so hard to recognize it with Mozart since he creates such beautiful melodies though, contrary to some composers of the Romantic Era, so you don’t have to worry about it for now.

The second movements are always divine with Mozart… You’ll sense the same pure emotions as the Piano Concerto’s 2nd movement from before.

And the 3rd movement is as always a joyful Rondeau!

I always have more commentary for the first two movements since they are the parts where the composer fully shows their musical abilities (especially in the Classical Era). I hope this “guide” helps you a little bit to grasp what’s going on during the pieces 💕 I’m aware that suddenly trying to listen to 35-40-minute pieces is hard especially if you’re a beginner, so if you feel like you won’t be able to concentrate, feel free to only listen to their first movements (since those are the most juicy, beautiful parts!). Then, after some time, if you’d like, the second movements etc. Since we’re discovering the Classical Era, we can treat every movement as a different piece in itself, they have no connections that would require you to listen to them together. I wouldn’t be able to say the same thing with late Beethoven, for example. But with Mozart, it’s totally OK!

Enjoy! ❤️

And if you listen to them and want more, just drop by my ask box and give me a sign, I have a lot more up my sleeve😌❤️ Or we can discuss these first as well!! I’ll be OK with anything, as long as you’re enjoying yourself~

Thank you so much for the recommendations and tips on what to look for Req omg🥺😭❤

I found some time to listen to it today just fully with my full attention to I could pay attention to the details. And I used headphones so I could possibly enjoy it better hehe💕 

I also wrote down my thoughts as I listened to it so let’s go!! (also please excuse my limited knowledge on music terminology and prepare for a lot of words below haha😖)

Piano Concerto no.23

The first movement was beautiful, when the pianist started playing I audibly gasped I tell you. The softness of the piano in contrast to the harder(? is that how you describe it haha) sounds of the violins in the beginning just accentuates the tune of the piano, and it just grabs your attention immediately even though it’s not loud at all, and frankly quite the opposite. And the pianist’s solos have me, I am literally in awe of how soft and beautiful they are, and I keep looking forward while listening to this to hear them again. I loved the parts at (7:23, 8:26) ahh, the contrast is immaculate and beautiful, from forte to piano in such a short time haha it took my breath away for a second. 

Okay the second movement. So beautiful🥺 From the beginning just listening to the soft piano section here alone I could feel the different vibe and emotions here, it feels almost melancholic and lonely. The notes that are played here clearly showcases a sadder emotion than the first, though it is just as soft. The flats (I think?) on the piano here help bring it out so much better. As for the orchestra part, I really liked it when they joined in for the second time as well, I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just so in harmony, and soft, blending so well together😌. Oh and I definitely heard that change in 17:25, that part was very striking. And I love the gradual change of the tone of the piano there and the emotions it seems to convey. And coupling this with your explanation, it almost feels like it’s conveying how sadness and those feelings of melancholy will fade will passing time (maybe that’s just me). 

And yeah I could tell how the third movement is less impressive than the first two. It seems a bit different that the first two, and the emotions this part conveys doesn’t feel as strong it feels. But I definitely agree it’s joyful! But I actually loved how the whole piece flowed! The flow of different emotions throughout it (I’m not really sure of the background of the piece) but to me it feels like it’s highlighting how our emotions go up and down in life, but it will get better, like how joyful it becomes in the third movement in contrast to the second. [do tell me your thoughts Req I want to know👀]

Concerto for Flute and Harp

Oo great tip about the melody part!! It’s the same for the piece earlier as well in the first movement in particular, I can definitely hear the same leitmotif (I believe that’s what it is called?) Okay but the way the flute and the harp blends together? Ahh so beautiful and sounds almost ethereal🥰🥺 And oo that’s nice to know! I have some knowledge of the Romantic era and their styles, they emphasize a lot on emotions, nature, beauty and the individual I believe? Since it’s seen as an opposition to the industrial movement’s hard and mechanical facts. I have studied the history about that period for a bit as well as some of the literature during that time so I do have a bit of background information haha, so I assume that other composers emphasize more on other perhaps more negative side of emotions? 

And the second movement is so breathtaking😭 The whole piece in general is so soft and pure as you said. It just feels out of this world almost, it’s just heavenly how pure and innocent everything sounds. And I can see what you mean when you say his second movements are “divine”. And yes! The emotions here are very pure like the other piece! But at the same time very different in what they are conveying, they are both very beautiful and yet this feels much more hopeful🥺 And that part at (16:41) with the harp really has me ahh, then the flute going in afterwards, it is just beautiful so so beautiful.

And the third movement, it’s so joyful omg🥺though it is much faster and a bit different in terms of the tone and vibe from the first two movements, it still feels connected, especially with the flute and the harp movements in some parts they sound familiar(? I don’t know how to describe it haha)

And I just read your part about concentration, it was a bit haha, but typing out my thoughts as I listened to it helped, though it is probably not the best way to enjoy the piece😅 And that guide definitely helped thank you so much Req!! I really appreciate it! And you taking your thoughts to type all this out for me as well as choosing the videos that you believe had the best audio💕 I don’t know if you’re able to tell but I really enjoyed Piano Concerto no.23 haha, maybe it’s because I used to play the piano for a bit so I’m a bit biased😖

And of course!! I’ll be sure to drop by if I had any questions! And please tell me your thoughts after reading this too haha, I’d love to hear! Have a lovely day💕

[felassan]

Highlights and insights from the N7 Day cast & crew reunion panel

[Rewatch link]

In case a text format is better for anyone. There are some NSFW references. Cut for length.

(Some paraphrasing.)

“Some of us are inebriated”

“Patrick Weekes, the killer of man and beasts, the breaker of hearts”

JHale put the whole thing together, it’s the biggest ME cast reunion to date

The cast had no idea that the remaster was a thing

Lots of ace discussion about what the magic of the MET is (“it captured lightning in a bottle”)

Lots of warm fuzzies between the cast, crew and community, and lots of fun behind-the-scenes anecdotes

Lots of great discussion on the diversity and inclusion in ME: on gender, sexuality, representation, empowerment, the core message in the MET that “we’re all in this together or we’re screwed”, the progress made in the portrayal of female characters in gaming, etc. “Everything behind what went into these characters was authentic, we [the VAs] could tell that so much research, texture, authenticity etc had gone into them. It really made a difference”. JHale: “I’ve spent my career kicking down ceilings [barriers and so on women actors experience] with my steel-toed boot. To get to be a part of this game that has now created the expectation that there now be a female PC, ‘duh’, is once of the great things of my life. BioWare listened and put her on the box. The first time someone dropped the box in front of me I held it over my head and screamed over the crowd, ‘Casey Hudson, thank youuu!!’ It was a divine moment. This game was the moment the boot finally crashed through the glass, pushed by millions of women.”

The panel received many messages from the question submission from fans expressing that MET really helped them through very dark places and periods in their lives. The cast have had a lot of interactions with fans over the years where the fans expressed similar sentiments to them

ME was one of the first games Keythe Farley (Thane) acted for that had branching dialogue/dialogue choices, and when he saw the script with that when he went in, he was like “wow”. ME was the second big game D. C. Douglas (Legion) ever did. In his first audition he didn’t know it was for a robot-type character as it was disguised as something else with a military-feel. The second time it was to do a speech/lament at someone’s funeral and he knew it was for a robot. He said playing Legion for him was a case of “wake up, drink some coffee and go to work”

Jack was really special to her VA Courtenay Taylor because she relates to her so much and had a lot of similar emotional problems and personal troubles in her past. Jack helped her become who she has became. The host added that in his interactions with Courtenay over the years, he realized very quickly that she is very much like Jack

AWR has two moms, something which she hasn’t talked about/expressly said publicly before. Talking about recording lines between Sam and Femshep made her tear up. She said that being raised by two moms in the 80s was tough due to societal attitudes at the time, and so to see a loving relationship between two women depicted in a game was a big deal for her. When recording the white picket fence conversation, she was actually crying (“and then I’m crying because of the lesbians”). It was a huge moment for her to represent her moms’ journey. When she went home she told them all about how her character is gay and wants a white picket fence and everything “just like we had”.

When PW was working on Sam’s arc, one of the things they did was show it to one of their colleagues, who is a lesbian, asking what things she’d like to see in an arc like that and what things she felt were missing from it. The white picket fence conversation came from the colleague’s feedback (“we wanna see the nice, healthy, happy domestic stuff”, as it’s often missing in portrayals of wlw relationships)

As the VAs got more into their characters, they sometimes had feedback and input to the process to offer, like “I don’t think she’d say [this] like [that]”. Sometimes they knew their characters even better than the crew did sometimes. JHale waxed lyrical about Caroline Livingstone’s awesome direction, with the host adding that he has interviewed a lot of the VAs over the years and they all talk about Caroline like she’s Gandalf the White coming to the rescue in LotR. AWR expressed that Caroline is really funny (“don’t worry it’s not you, PW was sick when they wrote this line that’s why”) and emotionally in-tune with them and this makes long hard sessions with her a joy

When Mark went into record for the Citadel DLC one day he asked Caroline “wouldn’t be great if Shepard’s clone had been made to be the opposite gender? Then the two Shepards could fight each other!”

William Salyers (Mordin) likes the way Mordin’s story ended and felt that it was wonderful to be able to play that. He feels like the luckiest person because as he wasn’t the original VA of Mordin, he got to come in late to something that was amazing. “Caroline helped me get to where I needed to be emotionally to play that final scene. It was one of the most moving things I’ve ever gotten to do personally for a piece of interactive art”. PW related that with Mordin’s writing, they didn’t realize how much they were asking for. They thought William was amazing doing all the science-speak/technobabble, as they themselves didn’t know what it meant, and then suddenly having to deliver emotional heartbreaking lines. William’s always been a secret science nerd and so he loved that fact about Mordin. “It was a real treat to say your words”

Karin: “I always claim credit for the Scientist Salarian song even though I had nothing to do with it. I opened that door for PW”

Steve Blum (Grunt) found it a real treat playing Grunt as Grunt is a tough soldier on the outside but a [babey] on the inside, while he is more the other way around (softer on the outside, fight-y inside). He isn’t a gamer and so didn’t know what to expect or what he was getting into. There was the big pile of words, they showed him the picture of Grunt, and he just ran with it. “Grunt was kind of a perfect character for me in that respect”. Side note: his wry comments throughout the panel were hilarious

“Casey Hudson, our glorious loving overlord”

Courtenay jokes about “interspecies snorkeling”

The women Courtenay met working on this game are her friends for life. Ali Hillis (Liara) gave her her number the night of the ME3 drop and was like “let’s hang out!!” “JHale is the shit. I go to England and there’s AWR and I have this friend for life”.

“We’re a family”. The host comments that you don’t see this kind of closeness between the people on a lot of projects

Kimberley Brooks (Ashley) thinks things have and are changing for the better in terms of roles for women, and roles for brown and black women. This year she has noticed increasing awareness of inclusion and of where it’s lacking. “The copies I’m being sent for auditions, it’s drastically changing, I’m seeing it change before my eyes. It’s really exciting, there’s more and more roles for me.” “Ash is such a strong character and I felt very badass playing her, it was life-changing”. She’s excited that the remaster is going to be a new way to see these characters that they’ve been so lucky to voice. Kimberley/Ash was the first female character Karin saw in the studio, when she saw her she was like “Wow, she’s so kickass and inspiring”. At this point Karin hadn’t been working at BioWare for all that long, and she wanted to thank Kimberley, because she saw her and heard her voice and had a personal ‘this changes everything’ moment

Raphael Sbarge (Kaidan) finds it very moving how many women were encouraged into gaming due to ME

Raphael: “Everyone here has awesome varied careers, but because ME was so collaborative [and so on], [it was something really rare and special]. Nothing else I’ve done has been so important or impassioned, it has almost a religious experience to it, which you can see from tears in fans’ eyes and tattoos and people talking about it 10 years later”. “I’m so grateful for it.” “Clearly we’re going to do this again next year! :D” D. C. added that it’s going to follow him for the rest of his career. Courtenay says it has catapulted her career

PW talked about how it’s great that the female chars in ME were allowed to have real, realistic flaws and dark periods (as opposed to nonsense stuff like ‘her flaw is that she’s clumsy’)

Having the male and female PC be voiced was a big, expensive commitment for the studio. Karin commented that at the time, it was a risk that the pretty-much almost entirely-male leadership of BioWare at the time decided was important to take, and so she was happy that these were the values her colleagues had

PW was “the junior baby writer on ME1. I’d just gotten to the studio and Mac Walters fell down a flight of stairs and hurt his back, and they pulled me in while he was healing”. Karin: “Mac was very understanding when PW fell on the ice and hurt themselves during ME2.” PW: “My job in ME1 was to come up with conversations between followers to pass the time in the elevator loading times. I was throwing stuff at the wall to see what would stick”

Steve turning his volume down before he shouts classic Grunt quotes down the mic

Caroline: “Do you know how many tears were shed in the booth? How many times have we all cried in the booth...” JHale: “We were recording the end of ME3, which I never call the end, because I’m always like I’M HERE! [wink] The goodbye Garrus lines” - these lines got right under her skin and when she went to say her lines she couldn’t speak because she’d burst into tears. “It was all I could do to say those words... and then there was silence... [and Caroline had gotten choked up too].” This was one of the last sessions they did. PW: “John Dombrow wrote Garrus in ME3 and I’m gonna tell him that he got you both to break.”

Caroline was also really teary during Keith David’s (Anderson)’s performance where he tells Shepard she’s like his daughter. This moment was one of JHale’s favorites to act

BioWare came up with a proprietary VA recording system which JHale describes as a secret sauce as-yet not widely-used in the industry

Lots of fun in the line-reading portion at the end. The lines/scenes were sent in by fans. This starts around timestamp 1 hour 50 mins. There’s a break where they discuss more anecdotes after a bit then some line-reading resumes at 1 hour 59 mins 18 secs

"Salarian Vorcha Conrad Verner simmering sexual tension scene”

One of PW’s fondest memories is of ME3 when JHale and Mark got to play off each other (which they naturally didn’t get to do very much), when PW had shoved the entire script of the Blasto movie into random ambience throughout the Citadel. They knew Mark was going to be Blasto as he voiced most of the hanar. PW: “We had to have Blasto’s elcor partner’s hot sister... And I was like could it be JHale?? Because they hardly ever get to talk to each other. It was one of my proudest moments”. Mark: “Not only that, we had a romance.” JHale: “Yeah, it was hot”.

“Think of the poor cold freezing Edmontonian hanar”

PW’s story about Sam’s toothbrush: They wrote it as a throwaway line but AWR did it so well that PW wanted to bring it back in the Citadel DLC, as that DLC was the action-comedy one. So they decided the toothbrush was going to save the Normandy. The art director at the time was in an early playthrough of the scene and in that version of the scene Sam held up her empty hand. The director was like “We gotta make the toothbrush? Really? It’s gonna be thousands of dollars to render the toothbrush.” It then got to the next few lines and the director deadpanned at PW “Okay that’s pretty good, we’ll make the toothbrush.” PW: “Good, I got my toothbrush.”

It was John’s idea that we find out that Mordin had been working on a crime noir novel. There was a period in the development of the Citadel DLC where PW was feeling like “Mordin’s gone, he had his big moment, I want to respect and honor that” and the entire team were like “I think Mordin needs a couple more songs dude”. “Well alright!” By that point William had shown them he could deliver literally any line

“Oh I need a shower that was so steamy hot”

PW got in trouble with Localization over Jack’s “Save some of your energy, we’re gonna do it on the pool table” exchange. Localization were like “Um could you explain what Jack means by this??” These lines were PW’s, Karin as an editor got the question about it and passed it on to PW like “nope this is your fault”. “The best part is it was France that needed PW to explain the joke while apparently Germany were like ‘Yes please confirm that this is regarding the possibility of oral sex-’”

Keythe on voicing Thane: “Thane was a real lesson in opening up to the character, allowing this beautifully conflicted character to exist. Each character in the MET has conflicts within themselves and a tragic flaw that is revealed through the course of conflict.” He also waxed lyrical about how the MET was akin to Star Wars and Citizen Kane, and about the interconnectedness and representation in it

D. C.: “I have a question for you guys. Was it a conscious decision to not have Legion as a romance? Because there are a lot of upset people out there!!” “Voltage problems.” “A lot of creative reuses of ‘There was a hole.’” PW: “It was a process of us figuring out what we wanted to do. If we had known... The number of people who were like ‘I don’t know, are people gonna wanna romance Garrus? Liara? She’s blue and has no hair. Are people gonna be okay with that?” Karin: “We were young and naïve, now we know BioWare fans are thirsty.”

Derek brought in the first picture of Thane to show Caroline and she was like “He’s really hot, that’s gonna be a killer character. People are gonna want to romance that gentleman”

Raphael asked the BioWare team if there’s ever been a point where they thought about doing more DLC content or some kind of revival. “Has that ever come up?” “We’re legally obligated not to say, sorry, we’re going through a tunnel right now, bad reception!!”

D. C.: “Does this country have a soul?” “It does.”

“An N7 Day to remember! Go forth and heal.”

[shesclearlya3]

Summer of ‘84

Xavier Plympton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,426

Warnings: smut, language, sex in a public place, au!, all characters are 18+, i’m sorry if this is bad lmao

**using my current tag-list so feel free to ignore**

It was June of 1984 when you and your close friends returned to your jobs at the local drive-in theatre the last Summer before you started college.

It was your second year working here, and you were sad that it would be the last. It was an easy job. You'd work nights only five days a week. It was nice being able to make your own money and have fun with your friends while doing it. 

You were working the concession stand tonight with Xavier Plympton. You had been friends with him the longest out of the bunch. He was one of the best co-workers you could ever ask for. Despite his constant complaining about dealing with customers, he was always armed with perfect comebacks when you were stuck dealing with a Karen. Plus, he did work hard, which was a relief. Some of the other teenagers you worked with were only there for the paycheck, clearly. 

You were particularly excited because you were able to see the screen playing Gremlins and Ghostbusters. You rarely got to enjoy the movies. You were either working the ticket booth or continuously walking around, making sure nobody tried to sneak under the rotting wooden gates surrounding the lot. 

It was just after 9:30 when Gremlins started, and you and Xavier had just finished up the line.

"Let's hope the crowd stays away so we can clean up." he sighed, stretching his arms above his head. The ugly yellow shirts you had to wear rode up a little, and you caught yourself staring before a pair of hands covered your eyes.

"Gah!" you said, and you heard the loud laugh of Montana Duke behind you. 

"Sheesh, you're such a scaredy-cat!"

"I was distracted!" you said, your cheeks burning as you started to wipe down the counter, which was covered in popcorn kernels. "Shouldn't you be with Brooke right now?"

Montana slid over the countertops, going to the pop machine where she started filling up two cups. "We're parched, it's just now starting to cool down a bit. Larry is making us patrol for the next forty-five minutes before the others take over."

You nodded, scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot of butter that was probably from the night before. 

Xavier had laughed at what Montana said, and you immediately knew why. They had been caught in quite the compromising position the first night the theatre was opened this season. You were surprised they hadn't been fired, and Brooke had given two shifts away after the fact to avoid being questioned about it. 

"He's a fucking pervert anyway," Montana said, putting lids on both cups. "I gotta go. Be good!" she called sweetly before she bounced out of the rickety building. 

"I wish these fucking fans would work!" Xavier grumbled, fumbling with the switch of the nearest overhead fan. It made a creaking noise, the metal blades moving an inch before it stopped. 

"They're ancient," you laughed, finally getting the spot cleaned. "Candace told me they've been here since this place opened."

"These are like forty years old then, how fucking convenient," he grumbled, before giving up. "You'd think they could afford to replace them."

"Watch your language," you scolded. "We don't need another complaint."

Xavier smirked at you, starting to restock the popcorn buckets. "y/n, you should really stop being so uptight, babe." he teased you.

"I am not uptight!" you gasped, your mouth falling open as you dropped the rag into the sanitizer bucket. 

"Exactly what someone uptight would say!" he retorted, laughing at you, his hands methodically stacking the buckets handful by handful. 

"You won't think it's amusing when you're fired, you ass!" you said, causing Xavier to throw his head back and laugh rambunctiously. 

"That's the least of my worries, babe," he grinned at you, and you felt your heart swell. "What would you do without me?" he said.

"I'd probably actually get some work done..." you mumbled, starting to refill the popcorn machine with fresh kernels. "But I'd have to deal with the bitchy Karens all on my own."

"Watch your language!" Xavier mocked you, balling up the plastic and tossing it in the nearest trash-can. "Hey y/n- oh, someone is coming."

You told Xavier you would take care of the customer as he started restocking the cups, watching as you showed the young boy all of the ice creams you had. He was cute, probably no older than eleven with thick-framed glasses and a toothy smile. 

"Thank you, Miss," he said, before hurrying out.

"I think he liked you," Xavier said as you closed the register. "That's cute."

You rolled your eyes, seeing Larry sitting in the projection room, already asleep. "Shut up, he's young."

The next half-an-hour you only helped two other customers. Many people came to use the bathrooms, but other than that, you were alone with Xavier. You had cleaned up everything there was to clean, and you decided to dig out the book you brought to pass the time. 

Xavier watched the screen through the large window next to the entrance, the portable stereo tuned into the theatre's station. He was very amused by Gizmo, even gushing at the little creature.

"That's cute," you mumbled to yourself, chewing on your lip to keep from giggling.

"I heard that," he said crossly, his eyes on you now.

"I didn't say anything," you shrugged, bookmarking your page. "I'm hungry, I want a pretzel."

"Lucky for you, I popped one in for you," Xavier said, gesturing towards the pretzel heater right next to him. "It should be done now."

"Thank you, Xavier!" you said happily, coming over and taking it out. Xavier watched you, and he reached next to him for a bucket of popcorn he had gotten for himself. He put a handful in his mouth as you started pouring nacho cheese into a plastic container. 

"Hey, y/n?" he asked again, looking at you.

"Yes?" you asked, watching the hot cheese, feeling your stomach growl with hunger.

"Do you remember my friend Chet? He graduated last year?"

You nodded, moving to sit next to him on the counter. "The cute dark-haired kid who is really athletic?" 

"That's him," Xavier said, stuffing more popcorn into his mouth. "I ran into him the other day, and I told him I was working here again. He said he worked here for a season before we met."

You encouraged him to keep going, wondering where this was going. You knew Chet Clancy, mainly because he was a popular jock who dated multiple girls throughout the years. You have only spoken a few words with him in your entire life, but he was sweet enough. 

"Uhm..." he said, looking a little nervous now. You thought it was odd, he rarely became this way around you. "He asked about you."

You perked up, tearing your pretzel in half as you watched him see if he were joking. He wasn't, looking you dead in the eyes, and you could see he was honest.

"He asked about me?" you asked, shocked.

"Yeah, he kind of... Hinted, that he was interested in you."

You found yourself smiling. "Really? I never really talked to him..."

Xavier nodded, "I know. I was a little shocked myself."

You ate some of your food, now thinking about dating Chet Clancy. You never would have imagined it, and not even because you rarely knew him. He just seemed so out of reach. You weren't the "normal" crowd he hung out with.

"Wow... That's insane," you said simply.

"Yeah... But I kind of choked up and said we were dating."

You spit out your tiny bite of food, covering your mouth as Xavier looked at you with wide eyes. "WE'RE NOT DATING!"

"Shh!" Xavier said, almost dropping his popcorn in an attempt to cover your mouth. "I know, y/n, I don't even know what happened," he growled, tossing the bucket aside. "I panicked."

"Why would you panic?" you asked, wrinkling your nose as you picked up your un-chewed food with a napkin and tossed it in the bin. "We're friends."

"I got... Jealous," he replied lamely.

You glanced up at him, and he was looking at his lap, his face wrinkled in embarrassment. You were thrown for a loop. As long as you had known each other, not once did there seem to be any romantic inclination. Of course, you've crushed on him a bit, I mean, who wouldn't? He was funny, charismatic, gorgeous, and saw something in you that he wanted to be your friend.

"Why?" was all you managed, your voice hushed and confused.

"It made me realize that I like you. And we're not little kids anymore. If I didn't tell you how I felt, then I might lose the opportunity to tell you." he said, before laughing dryly, "I guess it took another guy being interested in you for me to wise up and stop being an idiot."

You started to grin at him, and Xavier looked relieved. "Does this mean you're not mad?" 

"I'm not mad," you assured him, putting your food to the side. "I'm just surprised. I never would have thought..."

"Babe, I'm clearly head over heels for you, I tease you relentlessly because I like to make you laugh. And I like when you get snappy with me." he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling as you heard a group of teenagers pile into the bathroom, giggling. 

You scooted closer to Xavier, and you could smell his body wash. "I just thought it meant you liked to pick on me." 

He threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "I do, with love."

After that, you had spent the rest of Gremlins talking, sitting close to each other, and giggling madly. You had to go back to work once intermission started, and you felt your heart-beating wildly every time you heard Xavier's voice. You listened as girls giggled and whispered about him, cashing them out with a broad smile. At one point, you heard him go, "Sorry, ladies, I'm taken."

When the last movie started, you turned off all the machines, cleaning everything down quickly. The one thing you liked about this theatre is that intermission was the final call. You'd have time to clean up and be on your way home before the second movie was even half-way through.

You had set aside some food for the others while you finished up. Brooke Thompson and Montana came in, taking some leftovers and asking if you wanted to watch Ghostbusters. 

"We'll be out in a bit," Xavier said, gesturing to the broom he was holding. "Whoever worked in here last time did a shit job."

"Cool, we'll be in my car!" Montana said, before scurrying out with Brooke, their arms full of popcorn, soda, and nachos.

"I'm so ready to skip this joint!" Xavier said after he finished swimming, and you switched off the first set of lights. 

"Me too. Are there any nachos left?" you asked, locking up the safe.

"Just enough for the both of us," he replied. You stood up, walking over to him, and you ended up tripping over your shoes, colliding with his chest.

"Oh shit, you alright?" he asked, grabbing you tightly.

"I'm fine!" you laughed, looking up at his figure towering over you. "I think I tripped over the crack in the floor..."

Xavier stared down at you, and you felt his hand come up and brush against your cheek. You felt your skin tingle underneath his touch. "We're gonna get caught."

"I don't care," Xavier whispered before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You held your breath as you melted into his touch. You've been in a few relationships before in your time, but nothing ever compared to what you were currently feeling. Xavier held your head in his hands, your kiss becoming more heated until you felt him pulling you towards the back, where the storage was kept.

"We're gonna get-."

Xavier cupped a hand over your mouth, pulling you into the closet before shutting the door. There was a single light hanging above you that he flicked on, and you could barely see the movie screen from the rectangular window sitting high above your heads.

"Trust me, Babe. If you're quiet, we'll be fine."

You nodded, holding onto him as Xavier pushed an empty box onto the floor, lifting you up and setting you on top of a sturdy table. There wasn't a whole lot of room. He reached over to lock the door.

"What are you doing?" You asked, kicking off your shoes. You were wearing denim shorts, and the air around you was much colder than you expected. You got goosebumps as Xavier played with the button of your shorts.

"Could I take these off?" He asked.

You nodded shyly, biting your lip as he slowly unbuttoned them, the only sound being your shared breathing and the zipper being lowered down.

"Have you done this before, y/n?" He asked, his hands gripping the waistband of your shorts.

"I've done a few things..." you said, your cheeks becoming hot.

"I'll be gentle, I promise." He said, before starting to tug your undergarments off. You lifted your hips, and he quickly let them drop to the floor. Outside you could hear the audience collectively laughing at something.

Xavier shed out of his shirt, throwing it on the nearest shelf. He wasn't overly muscular but was nicely toned. You've seen him shirtless many times over the years, but this time was different. He was beautiful.

"Are you enjoying the view?" He asked arrogantly, flashing you a smile as you instinctively crossed your legs. "Ah, spread them for me, babe." He kindly scolded.

"Of course, I am!" You respond, "You're hot, and you know it, babe."

"Cute," he winked at you, before looping his arms underneath your legs. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you closer, spreading your legs out for him. You could feel how wet you were against the crisp air, and you wanted to die from embarrassment at how easily you became aroused.

"Remember to stay quiet." He said, grinning at you mischievously. "You don't want to get caught."

You squeezed your eyes shut at his arrogance. "Fuck you."

The words had barely left your mouth when you felt his tongue lick a quick swipe along your thigh. You shuddered at the feeling; your stomach trembling as Xavier purposely teased you. You weren't lying when you said you have a little experience. But, you never received oral before. You gave it once, and that was it.

You let out a quiet gasp as he finally licked along your folds, your hands itching to grab onto his hair already. You refrained, lifting them above your head to keep from messing anything up.

Xavier was skilled as he ran his tongue gingerly along your folds, before pushing his tongue inside. The feeling caused hundreds of butterflies to fly over your stomach. Your thighs clenched as he adjusted his hold on you, kneeling down to push his head deeper between your legs.

"Oh, fuck!" You said a little too loudly before you felt his hand covering your mouth. You mewled and sighed against him as Xavier slowly ate you out. You always heard from Montana that it was one of the best feelings in the world, but you never imagined it being quite like this.

Nor did you ever expect to be here with Xavier, but life was crazy.

You grabbed onto Xavier's arm as he started sucking on your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he teased your entrance with a single finger, barely testing the waters.

You were lost in the feeling when suddenly the door handle rattled. You jumped out of your skin, nearly trapping Xavier between your thighs when you heard the security guards' high-pitched voice. "Fuck! Larry must have locked it before he left."

Xavier freed himself, prepared to cover you with his body when the voice of Mason, a co-worker say, "It's fine, we'll just have to look in there tomorrow. I can't find the key anywhere."

You heard their footsteps fade away, and you and Xavier both glanced at each other, before giggling madly.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he whispered in your ear.

"It's not your fault?" You said, running your hand along his face now.

"I'm gonna go back down here now," he said, kissing your hand before slinking down your body again. You let him go, now covering your own mouth as he grabbed your legs, his mouth instantly closing over your clit.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his fingers once again teasing your entrance. "I'm gonna make you cum in my mouth."

Xavier continued until you were shaking so severely that he had to hold you down by the hips, almost forcing you to keep your legs open. Xavier pumped a finger inside of you, his thumb meeting your clit while his tongue teased it simultaneously.

You came in minutes, sighing loudly against your hand as Xavier cleaned you up, before placing kisses along your thighs. You breathed heavily as you sat up, quickly taking off your shirt, revealing your bra.

"Fuck, y/n," he said, allowing you to unbutton his pants, your hands fumbling to get them off as soon as possible. "You're hot."

"And horny, so please take off your pants." You begged, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. When you were completely naked, you stared at Xavier's dick, wondering how in the hell it was supposed to fit.

"Don't look so scared, babe," Xavier said, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Have you?..."

You shook your head, "I never got this far."

Xavier nuzzled your neck, and you wrapped your legs around him as he kissed along your skin, trailing along your collarbone before placing kisses on your jawline.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, suddenly having an epiphany on the importance of safe sex.

"There's a box behind the pack of lightbulbs," he said, and you pulled back to look at him. "Chet told me about them, I swear."

Xavier wasted no time grabbing a condom from said hiding place, and you watched as he slid it on with ease. You wrapped a leg around his hips again, and he hugged you while he pressed kisses to your face.

"Let me know if I'm hurting you, baby girl," he whispered, and you nodded, holding him tightly.

You focused on the sound of more laughter from the audience, keeping your breathing under control as Xavier slowly pushed inside of you. He felt you tense up, holding you tightly and not moving until you encouraged him to do so.

After a few moments, you told him to move, figuring it would worsen before it got better. Xavier nodded, still holding you tight as he rocked his hips into yours, both of you panting as you grew more comfortable having his dick inside of you.

When you felt a lot better, you laid flat against the table, keeping a leg wrapped around him while he increased his pace. Xavier's face was screwed up as the pleasure coursed throughout your body. His large hand reached forward, grabbing at your breasts while you attempted to keep your moans at bay.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," you said, trying to keep your leg from slipping off his hip.

"You're so fucking hot, babe," he said, leaning over you until you were almost nose to nose. "I want you to come for me, y/n,"

You shook your head, not wanting this to stop.

Xavier hid his laugh, increasing his face slightly. "You're going to fucking come for me, y/n."

"Make. Me." You said through clenched teeth.

Xavier laughed now, adjusting your free leg enough to easily slip his hand over your clit. He rubbed you out with his thumb, focusing on you, wanting you to come before he did.

"That's it," Xavier cooed as you finally clinched around him, crying out behind your hand as he slowed down, watching as you coated his length. "Fuck..."

You dug your heel into his skin as Xavier came, his hips stilling as he kneeled over you, kissing you deeply. You were breathless as he kissed you fiercely, hardly allowing you a break until he climbed off you.

You sat up, feeling light. "That was amazing."

Xavier grinned at you, pulling on his boxers after taking off the condom. "It's all you babe, not me."

taglist: 

@the-walking-daryl @trichy-knitts @shydragonrider @thefandomzoneisdangerous @lemonwhiskers @jetblackpayne @langdonsvcrd @okoktrinity22 @uwonman @stefanmikaleson1864 @sevenwonderwitch @rubbrninja @iamnotjesha @leatherduncan @imshakingandcryingrn @bratzblitz @goblackcat69 @brookethompsonownsme @bookoffracturedescapes @zodiyack​ @bitchchatter @shydragonrider​ @guiltyfiend @psychobitchtess  @aangrana  @thexmancometh @wtfcas @pleasforhelp​ @capshoney @agentnightshade44​ @frenchlangdon @morganelizabeth-99 @fathoe69333​

[awhitehead17]

Hmm... There was a Grandfather day few days ago, so maybe, for the prompt, batkids planning a surprise for Alfred and making Bruce distract their grandpa so thay could prepare the surprise?

This was a fun one to write! Thanks for the prompt and I hope you enjoy it! :D 

“Right, what ideas have we got so far?”

The silence that follows the question stretches on for far longer than it really should have. When it became clear that no one was going to speak up, Dick sighs and rubs a hand over his face before giving those gathered a pointed look.

“Well we need to come up with something!”

Five blank expressions stare back at him which makes him sigh again. There’s six of them all together and yet they still can’t come up with a decent idea on what kind of surprise they could give Alfred for Grandfather’s Day this year.

It’s not a usual day they celebrate but after everything that the elderly butler has done for them, he deserves some loving and care for once. They’d all be dead twice over if it weren’t for that man. Well, for Jason maybe three times at this point.

Dick and his siblings have decided that they would give Alfred a pleasant surprise in a way to show their gratitude, however no one can seem to come up with a decent idea on what they could do.

To his right Jason opens his mouth to speak up but Dick cuts him off before he could even voice anything. “We are not giving Alfred weapons as a present!” Jason instantly shuts his mouth and slumps back in his chair wearing a defeated pout.

Adjacent to Jason, on the left side of the table, Tim suddenly perks up and Dick cuts him off with a glare. “Alfred has no use for a state-of-the-art laptop. He’s often expressed his dislike for that kind of technology, we’re not getting him a laptop.” Tim opens his mouth a second time and Dick continues before the teen could say anything. “Not even if you make it yourself.”

Just as Jason had, Tim slumps back in his seat sulking. With little hope left, Dick looks over at the other three bodies sat at the table, wondering what kind of ideas they’ll stir up.

Steph wasn’t even paying attention, she’s busily typing away on her phone while twirling her hair around a finger. Cass happened to be staring at him, blinking slowly but otherwise not moving. He has no idea what she’s thinking. Finally Damian looks constipated, he’s staring ahead with his hands clasped in front of him thinking really hard about something. Dick hopes he’s not imaging what kind of kill or even pet Alfred would appreciate the most.

“Look Bruce has already agreed to help out with whatever we can come up with so financially there’s no problem. However we don’t have an idea yet!”

Silence continues throughout the room and Dick stands at the head of the table looking over his siblings impatiently waiting for someone to suggest something. Just as he’s about to give up and walk out of the room Damian pipes up from his seat.

“I may have a suitable surprise we can gift Pennyworth with.”

In that moment Dick couldn’t help but see how innocent Damian looks, just like any other pre-teen does with the last of his baby fat that’s yet to be shed and the self confidence that’s building up. But then he blinks and remembers that Damian is no ordinary pre-teen.

“Does it involve killing?”

Damian scowls as if the idea is preposterous. “No.”

Well one could never be too sure with that kid. “Any animals?”

“No.”

“Very well, please share your idea…”

It was the following weekend they decided to set up the surprise for Alfred. When it was actual Grandfather’s day they happened to be busy with a giant gang war across Gotham so it had to be delayed. Nonetheless they’ve managed to finally pull it together and set it up.

Damian’s idea had in fact been a fantastic one. Something they could all chip into and share ideas and how they could go about preparing it. Once they had it put together they shared the plan with Bruce who immediately agreed.

That Saturday Dick walks alongside Alfred and Bruce down the corridors of Wayne Manor heading towards the library. Dick had a feeling Alfred is suspicious and is aware something is happening but doesn’t know what it is. Dick and Bruce keep him distracted as much as they could as they walk by discussing random things, it reminds him of the time when he had been a child and it had just been them three at the very beginning.

They eventually get to the library where the doors are closed and Dick stops them just before they enter. He turns to Alfred trying his best to suppress a smile. “Alfred, the man of many talents and loving carer to many. We wanted to do something special for you to try and show how much we appreciate everything you do for us. Of course what we produce can’t even begin to replicate how special you are but we hope you enjoy it anyway. So surprise.”

Before Alfred could speak up Dick and Bruce swing the library doors open and suddenly there was a loud chorus of ‘Surprise!’.

Dick watches as Alfred takes in the scene. All of his siblings were surrounding the main table which had a large spread over the top of it. Scones, sandwiches, spreads, cakes, biscuits, tea, coffee and hot chocolate cover the table on a beautiful tablecloth and some special plate and silver ware.

They’ve done their best to replicate a British “Afternoon Tea”.

There were some old tunes playing in the background from an old record played that Alfred adores and they had the fire going which gave the room a warm comfort to it.

After a moment Dick checks in with Alfred, finding that the old butler hasn’t said anything yet. “Alfred you okay? Is this okay?”

Alfred brings a hand up to his mouth in a rare action of the man being shocked. “I don’t know what to say.” He says after a moment. Dick’s heart then skips a beat when Alfred wipes at his eyes, now clearly getting emotional over the scene. He quickly moves in and wraps Alfred up in a hug.

“Don’t cry Alfie! We just wanted to surprise you!”

Alfred takes in a deep breath and Dick lets him go. “Oh my boy these are certainly happy tears. I have to admit I knew something was going on but I wouldn’t have predicted this! It looks wonderful. I’m speechless.”

“Well that’s certainly a first.” Bruce teases lightly. He then nudges Alfred forwards. “Enjoy the afternoon Alfred, the kids have all worked hard on creating this.”

Dick watches as Alfred moves into the library and as he is immediately swamped by his siblings all chatting to him and pointing out various of items on the table. A hand landing on his shoulder gets his attention and he finds Bruce smirking at him. “I’m proud of you all, for putting this together for Alfred.”

Dick smiles back feeling pride course through him. “Alfred deserves it. Though what’s the chances this is going to end in blood shed? The unity between them all isn’t going to last.”

Bruce rolls his eyes and runs a rough hand through his hair, making him squawk in protest. “Better enjoy it while it lasts then.”

Bruce then moves into the library and Dick follows closely behind. He slides into the scene easily and watches as Alfred takes it all in stride. He’s glad they’ve been able to put this together for him because he certainly deserves all the love and appreciation he can get.

[namfine]

⬤ | 𝕴𝖗𝖆 : 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕙𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕟 | ⬤

Wrath is strong, vengeful anger or indignation.                                              - - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - - Θ pairing: Park Jimin x Reader Θ word count: 5.1k Θ summary: When you first signed up for private dance lessons, you thought your instructor was the sweetest thing in the world. But during tonight’s session you notice he’s on edge, more harsh than ever with his feedback. It only goes downhill when he notices you wearing a familiar piece of a jewelry. Θ tags: 18+, jimin x reader, unprotected sex, TW: Jimin yells and gets a bit rough with you, oral (f), angry sex??, he shoots his load in you, more monster fucking,  Θ part: 5 of 7 of our Seven Deadly Sins Milestone Challenge. ⋫ Link to Master List here Θ a/n: Welcome to wrath! I don’t really have much to say except that I tried to convey wrath as best as I could. Jimin yells and gets a bit rough but there’s no harsh physical contact. As always I hope you all enjoy!!! -Fizzy ԅ(♡﹃♡ԅ) 

God just fucking relax y/n you’ll be okay. Just act natural and everything will be okay. This is your instructor for fuck’s sake, not a god.

Is what you kept telling yourself as you headed inside the dance studio, chest heavy with nerves. You were running late, having trouble finding a clean pair of pants since you were behind on laundry. Not only that, but it was raining heavily, which was so odd because the sun was just burning brilliantly in the sky. Then suddenly it disappeared and was replaced by this storm. When you stepped inside, you immediately noticed how quiet it was. Normally there would be a few people lagging around, trying to get in a few extra seconds from Jimin. Considering the fact that it was also pouring, you were shocked that there wasn’t a soul in sight, trying to avoid the horrid weather.  

Usually Jimin was a very sweet and caring dance instructor, more than happy to help you when you were having trouble with a certain move. He rarely got upset and when he did, he wouldn’t let it show.  For your last couple of lessons however, you noticed he seemed more tense but when you would ask he would give you a big smile and say it was nothing to worry about. You messaged him saying that you were running late and normally when you message each other, he’s so upbeat and cheery, adding in emojis and “lol’s”. But when he responded to your message, all you got was an “Okay” with a period, making a pit of dread settle in your stomach. It didn’t help that he had left you on read for about 5 minutes before replying. The cold air inside the building made your skin breakout in chills, your teeth clattering together. Your clothes were sticking uncomfortably to you but luckily you brought a change because the rain had started while you were still home. You quickly made your way towards your room, where Jimin was hopefully still waiting for you. The closer you got, the louder the music became and when you reached the double doors you paused, taking a deep breath before pushing on the bar. You spotted Jimin at once, back facing you while he sat on the floor and worked on stretching his legs. He didn’t say anything at first so you assumed he hadn’t noticed you. You wanted to announce your presence first before going to change, trying to ease him off his obvious annoyance. But when you opened your mouth to speak, he said something first. “Are you going to dance in those wet clothes?” His voice was monotone, his reflection in the mirror not even glancing up at you. The pit in your stomach flared, and you clutched your bag strap tighter. “I-I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you I was here...before I went to go change.” Your voice stuttered and you swallowed whatever saliva you had in your mouth to try and sooth your dry throat. “You’re already late y/n. Just go.” Again with the monotone, but at least this time he spared you a small glance. You thought you saw something glint in the mirror, where his eyes were. It flashed red but you couldn’t focus on it for long since you were in a hurry. You sighed and turned back out the door, quickly running to the bathroom. You switched your shirt and pants for the dry ones in your bag, thanking yourself for putting them inside a plastic one. You hung your clothes up on hooks in the bathroom, figuring since you were the only one there you didn’t have to worry about them being taken. You opted in leaving off your bra and panties, them being completely soaked as well. Your clothes were loose and baggy enough that you figured it would go unnoticed. Your hand grazed your neck, feeling something cool on your skin. It was a necklace that you had gotten from someone, but didn’t recall who. You usually take it off while practicing but seeing as you didn’t want to make Jimin wait any longer, you kept it on and tucked it inside your sweatshirt.  When you stepped out, you paused, feeling something off. It was quiet when you walked in the building but now it was deathly silent, you couldn’t even hear the sound of the rain beating against the walls anymore. The hallways also seemed darker than when you had first entered, darker than what gray clouds would have caused. You glanced towards the front doors on your right, except now nothing was there, just a vast hallway of darkness. You looked left to find the same thing, the darkness seeming to stretch with every second you stared. Your only source of light was coming from the dance practice room right in front of you and even then, the light spilling from the two small windows were a faint red. You blinked but made your way to the dance room, feeling something prickle on the skin of your back. The feeling intensified when you stepped inside and found Jimin glaring right at you, arms crossed and a faint scowl on his face.  “Come on, get into your stretches.” He jerked his head to the side and turned around to face the mirrors. You quickly dropped your bag to the floor and scurried next to him, bringing your arm across your chest. A few seconds of silence passed before you did your other arm, then switched to work on your legs. This was strange, normally you and Jimin would have no problem in finding things to talk about, but now he wasn’t even sparing you glances. He couldn’t be this mad over you being late, could he? It had to be whatever has been on his mind your past couple of sessions. You didn’t want to intrude but you also could not stand him not saying anything to you. You contemplated on asking for a few moments, decided that the silence was not worth it. “Jimin? I’m sorry, I know I’ve asked you before but is something bothering you? You seemed really distracted.” Hesitantly you looked at him from your position on the floor, your chest constricting when you saw him looking down at you.  “No offense y/n but I’m not in the mood to talk about it. It’s also none of your business. Now get up, we’re gonna start now.” He walked away from you to go to the stereo. You felt heat on your cheeks and when pushed yourself off the floor, you thought you felt the room get a bit warmer. You checked the thermostat from your position, seeing the big black numbers display ‘76’. It seemed to be higher than that. But you brushed it off when the familiar tune of your song began to play. You’re not really sure why you decided to take up dancing, the memory bringing fog to your mind. All you know is that you woke up with this routine of coming to this building and have continued it ever since, not really questioning yourself. You were brought out of your thoughts when Jimin reached out and caressed your arm, gently turning you to face him. You blinked and looked at his face, a small wave of butterflies coursing through your stomach when you noticed his facial features much softer than before. You two got into position before falling into the routine. As you danced together throughout the room, you were hit with the thought that you didn’t actually really know the moves, it felt like your body was on autopilot, your body already doing the next move before you could even think about it. You tried to recall if this was the same dance as last week and a small part of you was screaming that it wasn’t. You were pretty sure last week you were dancing to something hip-hop and not this contemporary piece that was flowing throughout the studio.  Jimin’s arms abruptly left your sides and you looked at him, that scowl crossing his face again. He sighed and brought a hand down his cheek. “Can you pay attention please? You nearly stepped on my foot just now.” Your lips parted to respond but your voice caught in your throat. Instead you gave a shy nod, wiping your hands on your sweatpants before returning to your original position. It went on for who knows how long, time seemed lost to you because Jimin was suddenly nitpicking every little movement you did. Whether it be because your position was slightly off, you stuck out your left rather than right foot, or if you just got a whole move completely wrong. Jimin was starting to become more and more critical with his comments and with each passing one, it felt like the room got hotter. Sweat began to form on your forehead and you temporarily wished you were wearing your soaking clothes. At one point when it came to a move where he had to hold you close to his chest, he froze, his hand gripped your lower back. You stood still, not really knowing what to do, until it hit you that he probably felt your breasts against him and realized you weren’t wearing a bra. Just as you were about to speak up, he held you away at arms length, his jaw clenching together and making a muscle tick. You shakily inhaled, waiting for his next move, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your temple. As you looked at him you noticed he wasn’t sweating one bit. No drops on his forehead, no panting, not even a blush on his cheeks. Maybe you were just over exerting yourself? “Let’s continue.” He murmured and went back to holding you against his chest. Your arms went around his neck, feeling heat radiate off of him. You instinctively went to take them off but Jimin’s grip on you tightened, his fingertips pressing into you. You gulped and gently laid them back down, breathing deeply before taking a step backwards. You thought things had gone back to normal, that it was all settled down. His hold on your waist even loosened up a bit. Eventually you two parted away from each other and you collapsed on the ground, the throbbing ache in your legs making you close your eyes. The sound of something clattering on the wood floor rang next to your ear but you paid no attention to it. “For fucks sake y/n, can’t you fucking focus?” He bursted out at you, anger finally making way. You lifted your head up from the floor to look at him, not bothering to hide the confusion on your face. “Seriously, this is like the 6th time you’ve messed up? What is wrong with you? Are you just trying to test my patience today?” You didn’t know what to say, his outburst completely throwing you off. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your body flaring up in heat and now sweat began to drip in between your breasts.  “What the fuck is your problem, Jimin.” You hissed at him, chest heaving in exhaustion.  “I don’t have to explain myself to you. But maybe you should explain something to me. For instance, we’ve gone over this routine before, why are you fucking up everything right now?” “I don’t fucking know! Why are you being so critical right now? What the hell is up your ass?” You dropped your head back on the floor and rubbed your palms into your eyes, seeing explosions of color behind your eyelids. You heard his footsteps stomping towards you and suddenly the front of your sweatshirt was being pulled up, the small chill of air feeling cool against the sweat on your chest. Your body was tugged upwards and Jimin was so close to your face you almost went cross eyed. He stared at you and then flicked his gave downwards, eyes widening a fraction. “Why. The fuck. Aren’t you wearing a bra?” Your eyes were as wide as saucers, the embarrassment flooding throughout your body. His eyes traveled back up to yours and you became conscious of the fact that he was straddling you. “It got wet from the storm. I didn’t want to wear them, sorry-” “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing y/n, but you better fucking quit it or else,” He lets go of your shirt and pushes you away, your body falling back to the floor. The sound of something hitting the ground sounded again and you became aware of how Jimin stilled on top of you. He leaned closer to your body and felt his hand grab onto your necklace. “Where did you get this?” He questioned, not taking his eyes off the ruby. “What?” You replied, face scrunching in puzzlement. “I said where the fuck did you get this y/n!?” He was roaring into your face now, a red hue showing in his eyes. “I don’t know, I can’t remember! Can you fucking get off of me?” You attempted to lift your body up, but Jimin’s hand pushed you back to the ground and his other abruptly yanked the chain off your neck, the snap making you flinch. “Do you know what this is?” He shook it in front of your face, the chain lightly brushing against your nose. “It’s a necklace! Seriously Jimin get off-!” You tried again to move but his palm on your chest held you still. Why was he so concerned with a piece of jewelry? As you watched him inspect the necklace, you saw his lips move but couldn’t make out what he was saying, music was still playing from the stereo. You saw his face contort in anger and at the same time it felt like the room got about 20% hotter, sweat beading and sliding down your temples. He muttered something but you couldn’t quite hear him. “What?” “It’s a fake, it’s a fucking fake!” With speed greater than you could imagine, he threw the necklace to the side, the speed of it sending it straight through the studio mirrors and shattering them into a million little pieces. You looked on with fear and shock, trying to make sense of what was happening. You felt Jimin grab onto your sweatshirt again and he hauled you upwards. “You need to remember where you got the necklace! Tell me!” He shook you, his eyes vibrating with how they scanned all over your face. You didn’t know what to tell him, you honestly could not recall where you had gotten it. Every time you closed your eyes to think, all you could see were sparks of yellow. The more you tried to rack your brain for answers, the more Jimin got angry. “I don’t know! I already told you!” “You’re not trying hard enough! Where is the real one!? Please y/n this is very important!”  He was now screaming at you, completely blocking out the sound of the music. His veins were bulging from his neck and arms, except they didn’t look normal. Instead they were glowing red, traveling up his body, through his face and into his eyes, which were now a blazing crimson. From the corner of your eye you saw the other mirrors in the room begin to crack. Thin, spiderweb lines spreading across them. You couldn’t think straight, you had to do something to get him to stop. “Answer me!” You felt like your mind went blank, your body went on autopilot because next thing you knew, you were on top of him, holding his arms above his head. You had somehow gathered enough strength to push him off and get him onto his back. His wrists felt hot against your skin, like a burning pan, yet you didn’t pull away. The motion caught Jimin off guard because his yelling ceased at once, eyes wide in disbelief. “Tell me what the deal is about the necklace!” You shook his wrists, your chest rising and falling with how much adrenaline was coursing through you. You felt his chest move with every breath he took, the veins all over his body dulling just a bit. He inhaled deeply, holding it in for a few seconds before releasing it through his nose. “That necklace is very important to me. It...it was a family heirloom, that.” He paused and swallowed, flicking his tongue out to lick his lips. His eyes and glowing veins going throughout his body and face, faded a bit. The heat emanating from his body seemed to decrease as well. “Someone stole it from me and I’ve been on edge ever since. I’m-I’m sorry y/n I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes my anger gets the best of me.” By now the glow had disappeared almost completely, his brown eyes starting to show through. The look in his eyes held sincere regret, he didn’t even try to fight you when you switched positions.  “Talk to me next time. Don’t fucking take your wrath on me.” You jerked his wrists once more but loosened your grip just a bit. He wiggled them around, but did nothing to pull them out your grasp. You sat there for a couple of seconds, the music no longer playing, the only sounds being each other’s breathing. You went to sit on your haunches, a question ready on your tongue, until you felt something under you. You tried to hide your surprise, but judging by the way Jimin’s body tensed under you and the way his lips parted, you knew he noticed. “Jimin-” You whispered, afraid that raising your voice even a sliver would shatter whatever was happening right now. “I’m sorry, it happened when I saw inside your shirt and now you’re on top of me and-” You stopped him by putting your fingers on his lips. He paused and looked up at you, mirroring your expression, a mixture of confusion, contemplation and something else burning hot and bright. You saw his throat move and then felt the tip of his tongue peek out to delicately lick the pads of your fingertips. It slowly dragged across, fingers twitching at the sudden wetness and felt your breath hiccup in your throat. You moved your fingers off his lips but quickly put your thumb on his bottom lip, the plushness of it feeling soft under your digit. As you swiped it across, Jimin’s mouth opened and he slowly closed his lips around the tip of your thumb, his tongue gently swirling around it. You forced yourself to swallow the saliva forming in your mouth, to try and moisten your sudden parched throat. You pulled your thumb out and dragged it down his lip, his saliva glistening under the studio lights. As you trailed your hand down towards his neck, you felt him tense under you. You raised an eyebrow in question but continued your journey down to his chest, all while subtly grinding on his crotch. When you reached his chest, he visibly flinched, his torso rising up into your touch. He bit his lower lip when you swerved your hand over to his nipple, feeling it pebble through his black shirt. With just the barest of touches you circled around it, causing Jimin to close his eyes and attempt to steady his breathing. You pressed your lips together and while still grinding down on him, you leaned down and let your breath ghost over his nipple. Without sparing another second you flicked your tongue over it, hearing a choked gasp escape from his mouth. Your other hand went under his shirt and made contact with his skin. It felt like he was on fire, like there was a furnace burning inside him and seeping through his pores. Your fingers reached his other nipple and began to tweak and pull at it. Jimin’s eyes were still closed but his hips were bucking up into you, his erection much more prominent against your wet core. You remembered you weren’t any underwear and the thought caused a shiver to travel through you. You quickly sat up and slid both hands under his shirt, bunching it up to his neck. You leaned down and kissed up his stomach, letting your tongue wet both of his buds. When you reached his neck you bit him hard and his moan had you clenching. Your mouth lingered above his, the faintest of touches gracing his lips. If his mouth twitched you would be kissing but he didn’t dare make any moves. Your tongue slipped out and touched his lips and then you moved to his ear, sinful words ready on your lips. “You know...I’m not wearing any panties either.” You breathed into his ear, licking the shell of it. In a split second you were back to being flipped over, Jimin looming over your body once more. He placed a searing kiss against your lips, pressing his hard cock into your core. You whimpered into his mouth, hands flying up to tangle in his hair. He pulled away while holding your arms, tugging you up with him to stand and giving you no time to adjust before his mouth was back on yours. He put his hands on your waist and began to guide you backwards to a wall, immediately attaching to your neck. Your fingers went to twist into his hair, a gasp leaving your mouth when your back slammed against the concrete. He grinded his cock up into you, breathing heavily into your neck, squeezing your hips in time with his thrusts. You threw your head back against the wall, his cock rubbing deliciously against your pussy and sending electricity down your spine. He stopped kissing your neck and went back to your lips, nipping down every couple of seconds. He reached for the bottom of your sweatshirt and lifted it up and over your head, diving into your chest to suck at the top of your breasts. “Fuck, y/n” He breathed into your skin, his warm breath spreading goosebumps all over you. His kisses traveled down your stomach and stopped at the band of your pants. He pulled them down and helped you step out of them, taking your shoes off in the process. He threw them all to the side along with your shirt. He lifted a leg onto his shoulder, a small breeze of cool air hitting your wet core, and wasted no time in putting his face into your soaking pussy. It felt like fire was coursing through you with every swipe of his tongue and when it went over your clit, you swear you saw tendrils of red behind your eyelids. You didn’t even realize your hands had gripped onto two things protruding from his head, the rough texture scratching at your skin when you tensed up. You felt your end coming and you opened your mouth to speak up but couldn’t find your voice. Jimin felt your legs quake, threatening to close around his head, so he pulled away from you and stood up, pulling his pants down when he reached your height. He reached behind his back and tugged off his shirt, smirking at your crestfallen expression when you didn’t get to finish.  “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll get to that soon enough.” He quirked an eyebrow and reached down for your legs, squeezing your thigh to signal you to jump up. When you felt his cock rub against your folds, your head fell forward onto his shoulder, panting onto his skin. Without much warning besides his head prodding at your entrance, he slipped into you, each inch of his cock stretching your walls deliciously. He thrusted into you, his nails, sharper than you recall, digging into your waist. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure, and bit down onto his neck. His cock felt so good, but you needed more, needed him to be rougher. “Jimin, please. Go harder” You moaned out, clenching around him. His movements didn’t still but you felt his shoulders stiffen beneath your hands. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, that red glow that was in his eyes starting to flare up again.  “You want me to go harder?” His thrusts didn��t stop, in fact it felt like he was slowing building up power. You nodded as best as you could since he was gripping your cheeks. From the corner of your eyes you could see his veins begin to glow red once again. “Seeing that necklace on you...made something awaken in me, you know?” His words confused you, but you didn’t dare speak. “You think I would’ve been happy seeing it but no. I didn’t even have time to process it before I was asking you a million questions.” The lights in the studio began to flicker and you heard something crack faintly in the room. His thrusts didn’t stop however, one of his hands now harshly grabbing your thigh. You felt your high coming once again, those small red tendrils now turning into spirals. “My heirloom is still out there. It makes my blood boil, knowing some greedy motherfucker has it.” At his words, you both felt it, like something clicking in the air. The word ‘greedy’ made a quick burst of yellow explode right before your eyes, the sudden smell of sage and leather passing by your nostrils. The lights flickered rapidly, the sound of cracking getting a bit louder, and you felt the walls vibrating behind you. Jimin was quiet for a moment before he spoke up, again. You didn’t quite hear what he said because suddenly he grabbed onto your hair, locking your gaze onto his, red eyes boring into yours. “You fucked him.” He muttered. Your eyebrows furrowed together. Who? Who was he talking about? You didn’t have time to register because the rumbling from behind you got louder and without warning, the lights went out, leaving the two of you fucking in complete darkness. Red abruptly engulfed the room, lighting it up once more but that wasn’t what startled you. The entire room had now turned into mirrors; the doors, the ceiling, even the floor. Looking straight across you could see yourself being pounded but it was what fucking you that had your heart begin to race. Under your hands he felt he felt smooth but the image in the mirror had you wondering.  It was much bigger than Jimin’s size, red veins spread like vines throughout his back, stark black wings were folded, from his head were two sharp black horns curling outwards. You couldn’t look away from it, the cracks in the mirror messing with your mind because while in some pieces he looked normal, in others he was this creature. The skin under your hand turned rough and while you looked onward at the mirrors, you realized that you weren’t scared. In fact it felt like this was all too familiar. A moan was ripped from your throat when you felt Jimin, or it, rubbed furiously at your clit, the motion had your entire body shaking with pleasure. He was relentless, pounding into your pussy with no mercy, fucking his anger into you. “J-Jimin,” Your voice came out in a broken stutter, your release was coming soon. “Cum for me, angel.” With a couple of more thrusts and one particular hard rub on your clit, you came. Jimin finished as well, pumping his cum deep inside you. Stars of red bursting behind your eyes, your body heat soaring and then declining all at once. When you looked at the mirror, the creature had taken over it completely, no traces of Jimin left whatsoever. You looked down and your lips parted, seeing the creature in the mirror was now in front of you, head buried into your chest. With a shaky hand you touched one of the horns protruding from his skull, it’s rough texture bringing a sort of calmness within you. Jimin didn’t look up at you, instead breathing heavily into your chest.  You stayed there for what felt like hours, his cock reminding you that he was still buried inside you. With a sigh he gently lowered you to the floor, the ache in your legs making you wince, his cock slowly slipping out of you. Even when your feet touched the cool glass of the ground, he still didn’t look up at you. You placed a hand on the back of his head, scratching lightly with your nails. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, thumbs rubbing small circles into your skin. He placed a hesitant kiss on you, fearing to do too much. You shook your head but then remembered he couldn’t see you. “Don’t be, it’s alright.” You mumbled, swallowing the lump of spit that had lodged in your throat. Eventually the two of you got dressed, well, it was more so you got dressed and Jimin went to hide in the one corner of the room where there were no mirrors and the red light didn’t illuminate. While adjusting your shirt, you were pleasantly surprised to find your other clothes, bra and panties, dry and under your pants. When you finished changing, you turned to face Jimin, your heart lurching in your chest when you met his red eyes. You wanted to say something, anything, but you couldn’t find the right words in your mind. You opened your mouth to speak but Jimin beat you to it. “I think it’s time for you to move on, y/n.” His tone wasn’t harsh, more melancholy, but it still caused a ripple of pain to shoot through your heart. Something clinking sounded behind you, and you turned around to see that a hole had appeared in one of the mirrors, nothing but darkness going past it. You went to look back at Jimin but you could no longer see his eyes. You walked towards the hole, feeling an ache spread through your body. Glass crunched beneath your feet and you moved to put one foot into the hole, but something rough grabbed onto your hand before you could move again. You didn’t turn around, allowing Jimin to hold onto you. He lifted your hand and placed something cool and smooth in it. When you brought it up to your face, you saw it was a small hand mirror, gold all around but with tiny red rubies scattered about. Your eyes shifted to the side to focus on Jimin and a small smile spread across your face when you were met with his human form, smiling back at you. With one final nod, you stepped inside the hole, darkness enveloping you completely.

[keyboard-cowgirl]

Host, Interrupted - beta request

hey so, I'd like to a find a beta reader for my westworld, dolores/reader, wlw fic. It's been a million years since I've had a beta, but I really want one for this massive project. Let's see... you definitely need to be familiar with all three seasons of the show and comfortable reading heavyTM shit. I don't need much (if any) help with the plot. I need error fixes. I'm real chill to work with and I will happily assist you with any project of yours in return. My story is FINISHED. It's 170k words and the first work in a two-part series. Just to give you an idea of what my writing level is and what the story is about, here's the summary. The first chapter and trigger warnings for the entire story are under the cut. (Yes, my fic title is a play on the movie Girl, Interrupted. Yes, that is very much on purpose)

Non-con, suicide, death, murder, violence, gore, holy shit gore, depression, PTSD, self-harm, eating disorder, alcohol abuse, the works, it’s dark guys but *points at source material* *points at self*

Part I: The Devil is in the Details

 “Do you wake up as I do, having forgotten what it is that hurts or where, until you move? There is a second of consciousness that is clean again. A second that is you, without memory or experience, the animal warm and waking into a brand new world.” ― Jeanette Winterson

 Chapter 1:

 You have the whole train car to yourself. The magnet rail moves at amazing speeds with the kind of grace that feels like you aren’t going anywhere at all, but you are. You’re going to Westworld, the crowning achievement of the tech colossus: Delos Incorporated. The park put them on the map, quite literally after they bought an island in the South China Sea. Some 500 square miles of it is reserved for Westworld alone, the rest is divided between the other parks. You forget how big they are, but none of them are as large as Westworld. No matter how large it is and easy to get lost in, you aren’t going to up and forget why you’re here. You can’t. If you could, you’d have no reason to be on this monorail at all, relaxed into the pristine white seats, sighing at the darkened window.

Minutes pass, and your consciousness has gone somewhere you don’t have to think. A place where there’s no boredom and no worry. You snap to attention when the window lights up to show the interior of the train station. A melody of notes plays from the speaker above your chair. The voice is soft, feminine.

“Welcome to Westworld. Live without limits.”

When the doors slide open, you curl your toes and try to wake them from their fuzzy sleep. Your first steps are tired, unbalanced, and you cover your mouth to hide a yawn. As you walk off the monorail, you glance around the station. It’s just as bright as the train, and you pity the janitors for all the black scuffmarks they have to buff off the tile before you remember that the most tedious labor goes to the hosts.

The hosts – there are a dozen of them, evenly spaced out and waiting to help the guests. But there’s no one else coming off the train, just you. Dressed up and impossibly still, the hosts don’t even acknowledge you. It’s like they’re sleeping with their eyes open. They’re not here for you, but it’s weird that they’re here at all. You scour the area for a safe space when you find your welcoming committee near an escalator.

The two men stay put, but the woman gives you an excited wave.

“Harper!” Your name echoes through the station and you wish she hadn’t said it so loud. Still, you force a smile because this is a friend, and you are happy to see her. You’re happy. You’re happy…

“Hey, Elsie. How are you?” you ask as she crosses the floor to meet you. You barely have time to react before she wraps her arms around you. You can’t get your arms to hug her back, and you tell yourself it’s because she’s squeezing you too tight.

“I’m good, I’m good! How are you? I feel like it’s been so long- but it hasn’t. You lose track of time down here.”

Elsie is rambling, and you find it odd. Elsie isn’t the wordy type. She’s crass, direct, and extremely insightful, but this Elsie is stumbling over herself to make small talk. In a rare display of assuredness, you pat her on the shoulder.

“I’m alright,” you lie. “I didn’t think I’d see you today, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Elsie smiles bashfully, then turns as the others arrive. You recognize the pair she’s with – Bernard Lowe and Robert Ford. One is Elsie’s boss, the other is family.

Bernard adjusts where his glasses sit on his nose before he welcomes you. “Hello, Harper. I hope the ride wasn’t unpleasant.” You shrug. It was nice to be alone after your parents insisted on dropping you off. You can understand their concerns, but you’re not a child. Haven’t been one of those in a long time.

“I wish I could stay,” Robert suddenly interjects. Until this point, you’ve avoided looking at him. He’s an old man now, soon to face the trials of time that a mortal body can’t win. You wonder why he hasn’t died yet. A heart attack could do him in at any moment. Lucky bastard. “But there’s a project that requires my attention.” Go figure he’d leave at the first opportunity. He shouldn’t have come at all, but you let him speak. “I merely want to impart upon you how wonderful it is that you’re here, Harper. Don’t think of this place as a park or a game. It doesn’t have to be that. Westworld,” he raises his arms, displaying the pearly gates to the kingdom behind him, “can be whatever you need it to be. Here, you are awake in a dream.”

You manage a nod, and then his back is turned. His brown leather shoes clop across the floor as he disappears into a service exit between escalators. Seriously, why did he come at all if he was going to leave thirty seconds after seeing you? Maybe some things can’t be mended despite what your mom said.

You, Elsie, and Bernard stew in the silence left by one of the original founders of the park. Dr. Ford is an enigmatic man at the best of times. At the worst, he’s driven by a singular focus to achieve ever loftier goals. His ambition cost him his family once. Really, it’s a miracle you’re here at all, but other, more important people in your life have forgiven him.

“Come on,” Elsie finally says. “Let’s get you ready for your stay.”

As you weave between the sentinel hosts, the three of you leave the train station behind. Bernard takes the time to remind you the rules of the park. He doesn’t have to, you remember them.

“Now, the hosts can’t hurt you. In fact, they’ll do everything they can to keep you from true physical harm.” It isn’t the physical harm that concerns you about your stay here. “The guns are coded to differentiate between human and host. It’s going to hurt if you get shot-”

You clear your throat. “I remember, Mr. Lowe. The internship didn’t end that long ago.”

“Right, right,” he confirms. He plucks his glasses from his face and cleans his lenses as you guys walk into a large closet. Closet isn’t the right word. The place is more like a small storefront. Racks of clothes line the walls and accessories lay in display cases spread throughout. Everything is tailored to be exactly your size, but the collection isn’t fine-tuned to your taste. If it was, the vibrant, lowcut saloon style dresses wouldn’t be here. As you browse, aware Elsie is watching you choose, your mind travels back to the last time you were a part of Delos Destinations.

The internship…

The internship was a means to an end. Just this year, you worked with Behavior, you learned about host coding, and you met Elsie – who mentored you. For three months, you lived underground with the rest of the onsite staff. Everyday was a chore, but at the end of it your grandfather agreed to pay for your master’s degree. Now, you’re back three months later. You aren’t here to work, and you can’t leave until your stay is over.

You select a pair of grey breeches and find a muddy red, button up shirt to go with it. For shoes, you pick the comfiest looking boots you see. Most of your internship was spent in the workshops, but for the next few weeks you’ll be above ground, kicking around in the dust of the “Old West” as imagined by Delos. To hell with looks, you want to be comfortable. You imagine yourself not to care about your appearance, but you still pick out a belt with a holster that matches, and a leather jacket.

When you come upon a case full of guns, you hesitate. The selection of pistols is immaculate, like everything else you’ve seen so far. Everything is so damn clean, and it irks you. The more Delos tries to sell itself as perfect, the more you want to make a mess of everything. You lift the glass cover and grab a silver revolver. It’s heavier than you thought it would be, but it fits in your hand so well. That’s the thing about guns that’s always bothered you. You shouldn’t want to hurt people, and you don’t – for the most part – but every gun you’ve ever held feels like it was made for you.

Elsie and Bernard step out so you can change. When they return, Bernard is back on his tangent of explaining how this trip works. “Now, you’ll start in the center of the park. Sweetwater. Things are tamer there, but there will be plenty to see and do.”

The behavior tech raises her hand to cut Bernard off. “I got it from here, Bernard. I’ll make sure she’s good to go.” Bernard nods and wishes you well before he leaves. With that, Elsie takes a deep breath and adjusts your collar a little bit. “Finally, we’re alone.” You face warms, remembering your past with her. “I know how much you hate this place,” she states. “But I really hope you find some peace here, Harper. You’re gonna have the whole park basically to yourself, take advantage of it.”

You huff and take a step away from your friend. “The perks of being Ford’s granddaughter,” you muse.

Elsie folds her arms over her chest. “Yeah, and if our places were reversed, I’d be taking that old man for everything he’s got.”

You let that statement hang, untouched. “How is it I have the whole park to myself anyway?”

“Brass is going through their yearly audit, and they oh-so-graciously decided to give everyone a three-week vacation this time,” she mocks. “We’re running on a skeleton crew right now, but then the rest of us get to take our vacation whenever we want. I’m thinking Christmas or something else equally inconvenient for management. Maybe every Tuesday for the next 15 weeks. What do you think?”

“Hm, one week for Christmas and ten weeks of Tuesdays.”

Elsie laughs. “Oh, that’s devious, Harper. Love the way you think.”

She’s always been a bit of a flirt with you, but under all her jokes and bravado, you know there’s a brilliant but lonely woman beneath. Unfortunately for her, all you can be is a friend, and probably not even a good one at that. Like right now, how you’re not responding to her. What kind of friend just stands here in awkward silence like this? Where the hell is your mind today?

“I don’t know what all you’re going through,” Elsie muses a moment later, “but you’re not alone, okay? I made Bernard give me this assignment. He and Dr. Ford picked out a lot of the narratives and hosts you’ll come across, but they’re going to be too busy to watch you. I’ll be checking on you from time to time.”

Her sympathy doesn’t feel fake, and that almost hurts. This is the time to push a smile, but you can’t do it. “What hosts? What narratives?”

“I shouldn’t be telling you, but it’s gonna start with a bounty hunter. He’ll take you out to hunt down some bandits. From there, you’ll get the choice to side with the bandits and- and are you sure you want to know this? I feel like I’m spoiling the biggest Hollywood blockbuster of the century.”

You huff out a laugh. You don’t care about spoilers. “Stay away from the bounty hunters and bandits,” you list. “Got it. I’m just not interested in my grandfather’s games.”

Elsie straightens her blazer. “Yeah, but still try to enjoy some of it. Okay,” she tries to psyche you up. “You ready?”

“I hope you’re getting a bonus for this.”

Her hand rests on your back as she guides you forward. “The bonus is knowing I’m helping a friend.”

Your stomach drops. This definitely hurts.

--

You’re on another train. This time, the steel cage rocks beneath your feet and it’s not empty. Hosts are spread throughout the car, planted in their seats, or taking a drink at the bar. You don’t talk to them; you don’t even look at them. You know how real they seem, and despite what your grandfather has planned for you – you’re not interested in what Westworld can offer you. You’ve already got plans, big plans. You’re going to hole up in the nearest tavern and self-medicate until your three weeks are up. You don’t need Westworld to cure you of your ailments. Not that you aren’t sick, you just don’t think it can. Since a young age, the doctors said you had depression. Now that you’re older, 23, they’re not satisfied with the easiest explanation. Now you have another disease.

In a world surrounded by screens and pixels, the experts needed a new term for the bleak existence suffered by the modern man. They call it ‘Tech Fatigue’ but you’re pretty sure it was invented by the Delos marketing team. Medical professionals like to slap that diagnosis on anyone with a designer smart watch and dark rings under their eyes. Rich people – circling their second divorce and an equal number of midlife crises – seek out therapy inside one of the parks. Delos gives the doctors a fat kickback, and bam, the cycle is born. Tech companies like Delos make the problem, the solution, and profit off both. You don’t know that’s what’s happening, but it wouldn’t surprise you.

It’s ironic, really. In order to get away from a world of tech, internet, and social media, you’re taking the first train to the most manufactured place on the planet. In the mile of dirt below you, there’s a whole structure full of tablet-carrying technicians making sure the machines around you work flawlessly. Just because you can’t see the wires, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

You wish you didn’t exist.

Suddenly, the train whistle screams. You’ve pulled up to the station in Sweetwater. As the locomotive comes to a halt, you get to your feet and grab your leather messenger bag. Nothing in that sack is yours. Except for the odd prescription, guests aren’t allowed to bring personal items into the park. You don’t have any medications because you quit all of those a while ago. Still, you need more than the clothes on your back.

You walk off the train between a flurry of host bodies. For the most part, none of them pay attention to you. They go about their loops, avoid you when you step into their path – all except for a man in a grey tweed frock. He tips his hat as he approaches you.

“Miss Harper? I’m Teddy Flood. Your grandfather paid me to keep an eye on you.”

So it begins. You look him up and down more carefully. He looks like he was plucked right off the cover of an old-timey, cringe-laden romance novel set in the Wild West with his chiseled features. But his eyes are kind, and you’re not sure how to ditch him yet so you play along as best you can.

“That’s me.”

“Can I take you somewhere? A hotel to find a room? I’ve got horses saddled for us if you-”

You hold up a hand. “Okay, I thought I could do this, but I can’t. Just… go away. Or whatever it is you do when you’re not with a guest.”

He tilts his head. “I’m afraid I can’t abide by that request, ma’am. I was paid to keep you safe, and I’m a man of my word.”

“Of course you are.” Your shoulders sag, weighed down by more than your luggage. “Fine, but we’re not doing any of your… narratives.” You should’ve asked Elsie for more details on what your grandfather and Bernard have planned for you so you could avoid it. During your internship, you worked in a different park. Park seven, the newest addition to six others. You don’t know the storylines of Westworld past what you know about old American history. Admittedly, it’s not much.

With a sigh, you press forward and walk right into another cowboy. The stranger grunts and turns, hand hovering over the pistol on his hip. Teddy steps between you two. When the guy sees that his assailant is a woman with someone to defend her, his hostility fades.

“Pardon me, ma’am.”

Though everyone so far has a very natural Southern drawl, the ‘ma’am’ thing is weird. You try to smile in acceptance of his apology, but you know your lips aren’t upturned. You used to be so much better at controlling your expression, your emotions, too. What happened to you?

Confrontation avoided, you continue into town. You almost ask Teddy where the hotel is, but as you become more aware of your surroundings, your question fades. The buildings on either of the dusty road aren’t chic. They aren’t glass and concrete monoliths reaching for the sky. In fact, most of them aren’t even two-stories tall despite the false facade that rises up from the roof like an ornate parapet. Here, everything is made of wood and clay. It’s painted in muted, earthy tones by hand, and it’s like stepping back in time. Horses of every color are hitched on posts outside, and now you kind of wonder where Teddy was going to take you on horseback. You’ve never ridden a horse before.

They’re not real horses, you remind yourself. Teddy isn’t a real man. And nothing in Sweetwater is natural, except maybe for the flies buzzing around a pile of horse dung. Surely, your grandfather isn’t crazy enough to have manufactured insects. Then again, the robotic horses are producing waste that truly, and disgustingly, smells like shit… so anything is possible.

You tell yourself that this whole experience is too much, and you’re going to find the nearest place you can have a drink before you have a panic attack. That place is the Mariposa Saloon. You push through the batwing doors, and Teddy catches them when they spring backwards as he follows you. You told yourself to be ready for the sensory overload you’d face inside, but you’re still slightly overwhelmed. Cigarette smoke wafts under your nose, people are muttering about their card game, glasses are clinking on the bar, and a piano is chiming away in the corner of the room without anyone sitting at the keys. It’s a lot. You can understand how some people would feel alive in a place like this, but it’s not for you.

Still, you push yourself to the bar. Bottles of tawny brown, gold, and clear liquor are calling you forward. You set your hands on the black counter, but the man with the twisted handlebar moustache is serving someone else first. You don’t know why you’re waiting. You’re the only person here who thinks for themselves. You can be as rude as you want to be, and no one would remember it once they were reset. You wait anyway, and one of the brothel girls see it as an opening to take a chance.

The woman’s dress is a deep ocean blue, cut so high you can see the tops of her thighs and the intricate stockings she wears to cover the rest of her legs. You hope she’s going for Teddy, but she stops beside you and grins.

“You’re new.” She reaches up and slowly caresses your face. Between the lace of her fingerless gloves and the warmth of her hand, you’re surprised at how real it feels. “Not much of a rind on you. I’ll give you a discount.”

Turning away from her hand, you clear your throat. “Thanks, but I’m just here for a drink.”

The young woman doesn’t seem too upset by your refusal. “What do you want to drink, darling?” She snaps her finger at the bartender. Throwing a towel over his shoulder, the man finally notices you.

You order a whiskey. When he asks you what kind, you fumble. Did they have different kinds of whiskey in the past? How are you supposed to know?

Teddy chuckles under his breath and answers for you. “Rye. None of that corn homebrew you try to pass off as liquor.”

The saloon girl looks past you and at your tall, handsome company. “Wise choice, Mr. Flood.”

He tips his hat, before glancing at you again. “Nothing but the best for my friend.”

You scowl. “Teddy, we aren’t friends. You don’t even know me.” This is too strange. The bartender sets out two small glasses and fills both halfway. You can’t pretend like this is normal when your normal is leaps and bounds different from the here and now. A drink at home meant serving yourself, and you poured your chilled, name brand whiskey to the top of your glass, then you drank it alone.

Teddy throws his shot back and swallows it all in one go. “I know you better than you think, and I’d like to get to you know more than that.”

You shudder. Oh god, did your grandfather put him for you to… For you two to… You can’t finish the thought. The idea of your grandfather interfering with your sex life is way more than you can handle. Before you even take your first sip, you smack your finger down on the counter – showing the bartender where he can put the whiskey when you demand it.

“Leave the bottle.”

The young woman beside you places a hand on your shoulder and you tense up as she whispers in your ear. “I’m here if you change your mind, beautiful. If I’m not your type, and neither is he, look around. Find something that strikes your fancy.”

You grab the neck of the bottle and pour another shot. Westworld is not for you, you’ve decided. It’s only three weeks you remind yourself. The hat you picked out is making your forehead itch, so you take it off and set it on the bar. Then you hear a loud pop. An older cowboy pushes through the batwing doors, a wash of red blooms across his vest as he stumbles into the saloon.

“They’re here,” he coughs out. “Hector… Escaton and his posse.”

More gunshots sound, and it’s like some miscreant lit firecrackers in the street. The saloon explodes with activity. Working girls scramble to hide behind tables. The bartender grabs a sawed-off shotgun. Teddy puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk before he tells you to get somewhere safe or be prepared to use your weapon.

It’s only three weeks.