#but ALSO if i think about this too much i honestly feel Void inside me. which is why i'm typing this in the first place just

[meggletoomanyfandoms]

Alastor's Shadow

(Not my gif!)

Alastor x Fem!Reader

18+ ONLY!!

Summary- You decided to spend time with the King of Hell but quickly find out that a certain someone is not too happy about that..

Word Count- 2,147

TW- NSFW, Some dubcon, Possessive Alastor, a bit of blood, choking, tentacles, claws, swearing

AN- I really enjoyed writing this one! Alastor can be so unpredictable so I really do enjoy writing for him! Also my requests are open!

“So Lucifer,” you questioned, “Why did you make all of those rubber ducks?” You sat at the bar in the hotel beside Hell’s King. He took a sip of the drink that Husk had poured for him and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“Maybe it fills a void of some kind?” he said, “Honestly, making them just makes me happy I suppose.” You giggled at his response, noticing how his face started to slightly light up at the talk about the ducks.

“I think that’s cute,” you said, “it’s nice to have something you enjoy doing! And if making rubber duckies makes you happy, then I think you should keep doing it!” Lucifer turned his head to look at you, a smile forming on his face.

“Thank you, (y/n),” he said to you, turning his attention to the empty glass that sat in front of him and you noticed a small blush start to appear on his face, “Perhaps sometime you and I could create one together.”

“A duck?” you said with another small giggle, “I would like that.. You know, I do have some ideas….”

“Really?” Lucifer’s face once again lit up and he hopped down from his stool, “Tomorrow then?” You got down from your stool as well and nodded your head.

“Sure! I would love that!” you agreed. He then took your hand gently in his and kissed the top of it.

“It’s a date then,” he said, just before he vanished. Behind the bar, you heard Husk let out a small sigh. Turning your attention to him, you spoke.

“Something the matter?” 

“You know he’s not going to be happy about this,” he said, picking up what was Lucifer's glass and beginning to wipe it clean.

“Who?” it took you a moment to realize just who it was he was talking about but once you did, you rolled your eyes.

“He doesn’t care about me or what I do,” you said to him, beginning to make your way to the stairs that led up to your room, “And besides that, he doesn’t own me.” Husk didn’t say anything else as you walked up the stairs. You knew exactly who it was that he was talking about but you doubted that certain someone cared at all about what you did or didn’t do. You knew that all he cared about was himself and although it might be true that you had considered making a deal with that demon in the past, that was behind you. 

Actually, he was behind you.

“Good evening, my dear.” Alastor’s voice startled you just as you were getting ready to open the door to your room, causing you to jump.

“Why do you feel the need to sneak up behind me and scare me every time you have something to say?” you asked, clearly annoyed but still making your way inside of your room where he followed behind you. When you turned to face him, he was now leaning in the doorway, resting his hands on top of his staff. 

“It was never my intention to frighten you,” he said with a large grin, “I merely wanted to see what you were up to on this fine evening.” 

“I’m getting ready to go to bed, Alastor,” you said to him, taking your shoes off and putting them against the wall and then sitting down on your bed, “Can you just go?” 

“I could go,” he said, shutting the door behind him, “Oh, but I’d much rather stay and chat.” You felt your heart begin to pick up speed but you ignored it. 

“I’m not in the mood to chat,” you said, laying back on your pillow,” Whatever it is you want to talk about, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.” 

The next thing you knew, Alastor materialized on top of you so that he was now straddling your waist. 

“What the fuck, Alastor-!” you began to say but were immediately cut off when he put his hand over your mouth.

“Shush now dear,” he said, “I’m here to talk about why you think you can just go off and spend time with Lucifer when you know you belong to me. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” You narrowed your gaze at the man that was hovering above you. You noticed how his ears slightly twitched- he was agitated. You simply rolled your eyes at him, refusing to meet his gaze. He chuckled darkly. 

“I don’t think you understand,” he said, a dark tentacle taking the place of his hand over your mouth. He ran his fingers across your throat, “You see, I can look over most things. I can let you be whoever you want, act however you want. But this? This is where my patience wears thin.” His hand was now wrapped around your throat and you could feel his claws, sharp against your smooth skin. You murmured something, but since the tentacle was still over your mouth, your words couldn’t be spoken. He grinned wickedly at you and within a moment the tentacle had dissipated. 

“I never made a deal with you, Alastor! You don’t own me!” you screamed at him, now wiggling under his weight and trying to get free, “Now get the hell off of me!” He only laughed, fingers still around your throat and although his claws hadn’t dug far into your skin yet, blood was beginning to show underneath the sharp points.

“You think I care about deals? Oh my dear, you are sadly mistaken,” he said, leaning down next to your ear before speaking the next part, “You became mine the moment I became the one who you would fantasize about while touching yourself. You became mine the moment you screamed my name when you reached your climax.” 

Your eyes widened, heart racing. How did he know about that? You were sure that the only time that ever happened was when you were in your room alone and everyone else was asleep. Was he watching you? 

“You were watching me?” you asked as he sat back up, “You fucking creep! I didn’t know I had to worry about being spied on in my own room!” His grin widened, hand around your throat still unmoving but now getting tighter.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know I was there,” he said, “I know you wanted me to fuck you all those times you shouted my name. I bet you’re turned on right now too. Shall we check?” 

“Don’t you fucking dare-” you said, but the words left your lips when you felt a tentacle slightly touch you in between your legs. 

“Mmm, wet as can be, darling,” he said, “Soaking through your jeans..” 

“Alastor I am going to fucking scream if you don’t-”

“Oh yes, you will be screaming, my doe” he said, slowly using his free hand to undo the button on your jeans, “You will scream my name so loud that even Lucifer will hear, and he’ll know that you’re mine and to stay the fuck away from you. Now then, let’s get these off..” 

He used both hands to take your jeans off and you squirm underneath him. You weren’t exactly trying to fight him off at this point, if you were honest. You were turned on as fuck- when was the last time anyone treated you this way? Probably never; the guys you dated and fucked while you still lived definitely didn’t. And well, you'd never exactly fucked someone since you had died and arrived in hell either. And it was certainly true that there were many times you touched yourself to the thoughts of Alastor touching you and using you, and maybe, just maybe, you were aware that he was in the room all those times you screamed his name.. Though, you’d never admit it out loud. 

“Oh my, look at you being so obedient and not fighting back any longer,” he said, “Ah, let’s do this much quicker then.” And in a split second after he spoke those words, your clothes  all disappeared and you were completely naked. You went to cover yourself when two of his tentacles pinned your arms to the bed. 

“Ah, ah, ah, my doe,” he said, “There will be none of that here. I am going to take my fill and you absolutely will not be hiding yourself from me..” He drug a single claw down your stomach, leaving a long red mark in its path, “Not that I haven’t already seen you like this before.. But I must say, there is something about actually getting to touch you like this that absolutely thrills me to my core.” 

Your body was reacting to his touches; chills went up your spine as he toyed with you. You knew he was teasing you, but you didn’t mind being teased. In all honesty, you wanted more. 

“A-Alastor,” you choked out, “Please, fuck me.” 

“Fuck you?” he questioned,” Oh no my dear, you see, this is a punishment for thinking you could go out there and flirt with who you pleased. And it’s going to be so much worse since that someone was Lucifer. You will not be having my cock tonight.” 

Punishment? And here you thought he was going to absolutely ravish you. You wanted his cock more than anything right now; your soaking wetness was all the evidence needed to know that. You watched as Alastor got off of the bed, and stood at the foot of the bed so he could get the perfect view of you. 

“Uhm, if youre not going to fuck me then can I at least have my clothes back?” you felt the stickiness of the blood on your neck from where his claws had dug into your skin just moments before and shivered. Alastor grinned from ear to ear and in a moment's notice, your room fell darker somehow and that was when you saw it- his shadow appeared on the wall. 

“My doe, you are going to fucked senseless,” he said, “Although I must warn you, shadow it may be, you’re still going to be filled to the brim. And when you’re crying out and begging it to stop, I’m going to make sure it fucks you again and again until all you think about is how you’re not good enough to have my cock but instead, my shadows.” He materialized a chair at the foot of your bed where he stood and sat down, “I do so enjoy a good show.” 

You looked around the walls and watched as his shadow danced on them, just before stopping between your legs. Your heart was racing and you felt your cunt dripping; what was it going to feel like being fucked by a shadow? Or would it feel like anything? Would it hurt? Or not be good enough- 

Your thoughts were interrupted immediately when it rammed into you hard and fast and without warning. You could feel the warmth of the shadows cock inside of you, oddly enough it did feel just like well, a regular dick. But also so much more and not enough at the same time. It was rough and unfeeling but still, you moaned. 

Alastor watched as his shadow took you. Truly enjoying the show that you were putting on for him. He watched your movements, how you took your breaths and listened to how you called his name as you climaxed again and again. And while yes, he was indeed turned on by the sight of you, he wouldn’t dare fuck you with his own cock until you learned a lesson. That, deal or no deal, you absolutely belonged to him. 

Climax after climax, your head was starting to feel foggy and you didn’t know how much more your body could take. So much pleasure ran through you and there still, at the foot of your bed, Alastor sat watching you. And not once did he stop. Until now, when he could see you were tapping out and you had had enough. He stood up and his shadow disappeared, the light slightly returning to your room and his chair disappearing. 

“Have you had enough, my doe?” he questioned, now standing next to the bed where you were laying. Exhausted. You weren’t sure you’d ever climaxed so much and so hard in your life- how many hours had passed since this started? How long were you being fucked? Still, your mind was cloudy. Alastor put his hand on your head and instantly, PJ’s formed on your body as he stroked your hair. 

“Sleep now, my doe,” he said, “But remember this.. Though I might not own your soul, your body is mine. Remember that mine is the name you screamed while being fucked senselessly, and I was the one you wanted so badly to take you..” 

And with that, you watched as he disappeared.

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, rpf, fem!reader, smut, drinking

Author’s note: we made it girlies, it's time to get all the answers, but also time to say goodbye - it's been a JOURNEY and i apologise for how long this took me! Pls enjoy!

Wordcount: 6.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five- part six- part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

"You know I want to say it..." Joe said after a short silence.

"I know," you were well aware.

"Please let me say-"

"No."

It had been a week. Just a week. Joe wasn't allowed to say those words to you. He let them slip that night, had just blurted them out at the wedding, and you hadn't been able to swallow the words. Instead, they got lodged in your windpipe and had made you want to throw up.

"Please don't." you instructed, eyes trained on Joe's hand.

You felt Joe's eyes on you as he took a deep breath, settling on the understanding that you didn't want to hear them yet. You'd been playing with his hand for a little bit as you were both on your sides, heads buried into pillows and you'd already told Joe to go to sleep three times because you knew what time his alarm would go off the next morning.

But how could Joe sleep with you on your side of his bed, slowly tracing the lines of his palm with your fingers?

"Did you really think I hated you?"

Joe's question flushed you with a gentle wave of emotions. The delicate vulnerability and the sense of elation were the direct effect good sex had on you, which left you feeling you both physically and emotionally exposed. You could sob from looking anyone in the eye for a second too long right now, so coming in hot with a question that you knew Joe needed an honest answer to, did exactly that.

It contorted your whole face a second, crumpled it up into an ugly cry, breath held as your throat tensed to keep the sob inside because, yes you did. And it had always bothered you.

You had thought about it all week, kept going over interactions you'd had with Joe over the years and tried to puzzle it all into the narrative of Joe having a crush on you.

But it was difficult.

It didn't matter how many people helped you, how much Poppy tried to convince you that she didn't know Joe like this, that it had to be real. How much Mark tried to drill into you that he remembered how Joe looked at you the first time Mark and Poppy had forced you two to hang out together.

And it didn't matter that on some level you did understand. Understanding it in your brain and feeling it in your body were two vastly different things, after all.

So you nodded, because yes, you had honestly thought that Joe didn't like you. That he didn't want you in his life.

With eyes squeezed shut and your face screwed up you turned onto your back, trying to escape Joe's direct gaze a second. You felt how his hand that had laid relaxed in between you gripped onto yours for comfort.

Tears welled up fast, but you knew how to handle them.

You forced your face to relax, forced your eyes to open, forced your ribcage to expand and inhaled deeply. You held it there for a few seconds before you exhaled through your mouth and... you were fine.

Deep breaths always helped.

Turning back to Joe with your face relaxed, your expression smooth, all void of emotion, you found him looking at you with worry-filled eyes.

"You do that," not a question, just a statement about something Joe had noticed.

"What?"

"You stop it." Joe remembered how, several times, he'd seen you cry, and every time, you'd been able to stop it just as quickly as it had started. Maybe not as fast when you were drunk, but... still. This was some very advanced repressing of emotions.

Unclasping your hand from Joe's, you placed his hand back where it had laid before, in between the two of you, palm up, ready to get back into drawing lines over it with your fingers because that was just as soothing to you as it was to him.

"You'd rather have me cry?"

If Joe was honest, he did. He wondered how long it would take for you to be able to lose the tough exterior around him. Fully lose the whole I Can Take Care Of Myself facade. He felt that you had shed some layers already, but those were layers he'd put there himself. Joe now had to filter through neutral territory before you'd be able to let him in any further. To trust he did actually like you.

"I have never hated you," Joe whispered, and moved to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whispered back, fully focussed on Joe's hand again. Stroking. Tracing lines with delicate touch. Avoiding Joe's eye-contact, mostly.

"It's the opposite,"

"Joe," you warned, eyes shooting up a fraction of a second to meet his.

"I won't say it."

But Joe thought it. Felt the words in his bones, strengthening and weakening them at the same time. It was agony, but you'd told Joe it was only fair for him to say those words if it was in response to you saying them.

And it had only been a week.

A week.

A week since you'd made it downstairs and found the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, Poppy, and her dad, all ready and waiting for the ceremony to start. Mark was down by the altar, and the room was filled to the brim with people.

The groomsmen had been paired up with the bridesmaids to walk down the aisle; ladies on the left, men on the right. Which was funny, because that meant that you and Joe would have to cross paths at the end to go stand in your correct groups and you knew it'd get a soft chuckle from everyone there.

When you and Joe lined up at the end, in front of Poppy and her dad, she had been on your immediately. Tried to be subtle, but asked all sorts of questions. She very obviously tried to make the two of you confess you'd been hiding in a coat closet together, but you didn't budge. Kept straight faces. Told Poppy she looked beautiful in her dress. Smiled at her dad, who had no idea what was going on, but was polite and tried to calm his daughter. He even shushed her a little, which made you and Joe look each other as deftly as you could as you tried to hide smiles before it was your turn to walk down the aisle.

During the ceremony, your mind was swirling. Going a million miles an hour. You were stood behind Mark, who looked at Poppy, and behind Poppy was Joe. You had your eyes locked at the back of Mark's suit, able to see Joe in your peripheral vision just over his shoulder behind Poppy, and you were meant to follow the ceremony. Listen to the officiant's whole official shpiel. Listen to Mark and Poppy's heartfelt vows. But your mind was elsewhere.

Convinced that, in hindsight, you should have somehow known of Joe's crush, you were stumped to realise that you hadn't. Not even a little bit.

Poppy had said he'd been in love – like, actual love for 'fucking ages' and... bitch, where?

Mentally you were so far removed from what was happening around you that, when the officiant asked for the rings, you had to be pulled from your thoughts by a loud scrape of Mark's throat.

"Wha- rings! Rings. Yes. I've got the rings."

And Joe pressed his lips together, bit them into his mouth to hide a smile as you handed over the little red box.

Whilst you'd been staring at Mark's back, sort of frowning in thought, Joe had been eyeing you. He could see how your eyes were sort of glazed over, all out of focus, and he couldn't help but blame himself for you missing it. You were missing your best friend getting married to his best friend because you were all zoned out, and he predicted he was responsible for it. Sensed how being forced to stand still and in silence for a long time probably wasn't helping his situation.

It gave you time to go over what had just happened.

What you had just learnt.

And fuck. Joe was going to have to answer to a lot, probably.

When it was time to follow Poppy and Mark out, all the way down the aisle and out of the room with everyone stood up and clapping, Joe smiled and nodded at the people he walked past but said, "All right, ask away,"

And as you smiled and nodded at the people on your side of the aisle, you said, "Where do I even start?"

The fact that you were convinced Joe had never really liked you was probably the right place to start.

But you were at a wedding.

And you were in the bridal party.

This was hardly the place or the time for a serious conversation, to ask all the tough questions you had on your mind. Yet, it was the only thing on your mind. Couldn't think of anything else. It just kept wandering there, and it didn't really help that Joe was there the whole time, reminding you of all of it.

Things grew complicated in your head. Things tangled and twisted until you couldn't undo the knots.

You kind of wished you were back in that coat closet again. Where it was dark, and hot, and where no one else could see or hear you kiss, and touch, and pant into each other's mouths.

But you were at a wedding.

So. You found moments to steal.

A couple of seconds here and there to stand close enough to Joe for you to sneak out an accusation. Something Joe would have to answer for, and he'd have to be quick, because it couldn't look like you were actually talking, could it?

The day was about Poppy and Mark.

The newly weds.

You were the best man and the maid of honour. Still had jobs to do.

So you hid in plain sight. Got your questions out and had Joe answer them as fast as he could.

During cocktail hour, there were photographs taken outside in the courtyard. The whole bridal party got involved, both sets of parents too, and it was a lot of posing in various groups.

When you and Joe were stood off to the side, both looking at whoever was next to pose next to Mark and Poppy, you stole the moment.

"You don't like me..." you said, loud enough for just Joe to hear. You weren't even looking at each other, but Joe knew you were talking to him.

"I do like you... I had to make you think that I didn't,"

"Well," you inhaled sharply. "You're a fantastic actor."

Had it been anyone else saying that under any other circumstance, it was the best compliment Joe could wish for. But this, right now, coming from you? It stung.

"I couldn't have– there's so many reasons, all stupid, I assure you, but I couldn't– Poppy would, well, I thought Poppy would never have–"

Joe didn't get to finish his sentence. The photographer called you over, wanted you to pose with Mark and the other groomsmen and you didn't hesitate to walk away. Didn't let on you were listening to what Joe was saying.

The next moment you found was just before the bridal party was to enter the venue where everyone had just sat down for dinner.

"The framed photo you cropped me out of," you stated flatly, eyes up ahead.

"Folded photo," Joe corrected you, and you snapped your head to look at him, all bewildered, because what the fuck?

"I folded that. I wanted to frame the full thing, but I couldn't. You were off-limits. But you were there.... just, hidden, at the back of it,"

You were introduced, and had to snap out of it quickly. Faces open and joyful because you were at a wedding and tonight was going to be fun.

You found your seats and looked at each other when you saw the name cards placed next to each other. You'd seen the seating chart beforehand, and the two of you had not been sat together according to earlier made plans.

Poppy.

Fucking Poppy and her stupid meddling.

It gave Joe a chance to explain more as the newly weds entered, and applause thundered before they started their first dance. With the both of you turned in your seats to watch you best friends sway in each other's arms, Joe got to talk.

Joe explained how he couldn't have given himself a finger, because he would've gone and grabbed for the full hand.

Joe told you how it was all a thing of self-deprivation, and that Poppy had been right when she said Joe had had feelings for you for a while.

Joe was no longer hiding anything. He no longer cared about keeping secrets. All the initial thoughts, the first things that would pop into his brain, it all came spilling out. Quietly, and rambly, but it was all there for you to soak up.

The misplaced jokes. The walking you home. The silent message Mark had sent him with a single shake of his head. The chats he had with Poppy about her insecurities that always included you. The shirt and tie and dress shoes he wore in his own house. The shared gelato, "I was crossing a line there, scolded myself for days after," Joe said, and you didn't think that was true. That was the first time Joe'd been slightly normal. The first time you felt you'd had a normal chat, had both felt brave enough to apologise to each other, and hadn't been hindered by adverse winds.

The dance ended, people clapped and after a small welcome toast, everyone turned in their seats and the first dinner course was served.

Joe glanced at you from the corner of his eye and leant into you a little, indicating he was listening - waiting for your reaction to all of it.

"You're a weirdo," you said into your glass of wine right before taking a sip, and Joe smirked, because, yea, he really fucking was a weirdo.

For a while you fell in conversation with others at the table. The evening flowed from the first course to the main, after which Poppy's dad gave a toast. Cute words for the newly weds, honorary mentions of the female best man and the male maid of honour that got a laugh from the room, and then, you and Joe got to do your speeches.

Throughout Joe's speech, Poppy cried into the napkin that Mark dabbed at her face before she took it from him. Throughout yours, you could barely hold it together yourself and it made Mark get up to come and hug you. You finished the speech together as Mark held you and Poppy filmed you with her phone. Mark read along with an arm wrapped around you as you stuttered meaningful words into the microphone, both of you sniffling, crying messes.

You loved Mark.

And Mark had gotten married to the best girl.

When applause filled the room again, and every single female relative of Mark over the age of 45 had awed at the two of you, you rushed over to hug Poppy.

You loved Poppy too, almost just the same. So you told her, spoke it into her hair, and it made her hug you tighter. Poppy hummed, and you expected her to say it back. Instead, she softly said, "We heard you in that closet," which squeezed a laugh right out of you and you scrunched noses at each other as you pulled back.

"You've got to tell me everything," Poppy said.

For a second you thought of denying it all. Considered pretending that you had no idea what she was talking about. But she looked so excited, all giddy at the prospect of you and Joe in a coat closet together. All she really knew was that you and Joe had kissed a couple weeks ago, and that Joe had done something that had upset you - that was it, no more details, at least that you were aware of.

"You stole the fucking rings from me," you said, and it confirmed enough, making Poppy squeal as she dug her fingers into your arms.

"So you made up? Are you okay?"

"Definitely still angry,"

"My God, what did his stupi–"

"Pop," Mark interrupted, and you thought it was because she was interfering. Like it was Mark's way of helping you out, because this was hardly something you were going to get into right now. Maybe even ever. But when you both looked at Mark, he pointed behind you at Poppy's father, because it was time for the father-daughter dance and it wasn't time to get worked up over something Joe had done a couple weeks ago when you had kissed him. Obviously.

You took Poppy's seat and sat next to Mark as you watched Poppy dance with her father, and it was weirdly emotional. It made your throat swell and hurt, but you managed to keep it all in there.

"So, was Poppy right, then?" Mark suddenly asked.

You blinked at him a second.

"About you and Joe?"

Mark's face gave away nothing about his intent, so you figured he just wanted to know. No judgment.

"I had the rings, didn't I?" was all you said, a small smile playing on your face as your crossed leg swung under the table. A slow grin grew over Mark's face as he frowned.

"The fuck you not telling me shit for? How long as this been going on?"

All you managed was a huffed laugh as your eyes found Mark's mother coming up behind him, and you smacked his shoulder before saying, "Is there not a mother-son dance that you're meant to be a part of?"

You knew it hadn't been scheduled in.

But you also knew what Mark's mother was like.

Seconds later, Mark and his mum joined Poppy and her dad and you leant your head into both of your hands, elbows resting up on the table and across the floor, you saw Joe.

He was also watching his friends, head perched on his fist as he leant an arm on the back of his chair.

Joe's real pretty, you thought. Did he look different to you now that you knew?

Yea.

Kind of.

Wait. He really kind of did.

Looked less like a distant, arrogant prick, maybe. Or perhaps he looked the same, but it was you who was seeing him in a different light now.

Joe must have felt your eyes on him, because you saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat and look around before his eyes found you. Joe looked right back at you, held your gaze, and for a moment you both had your heads resting on your hands and just... stared. Just admired. Looked right at each other, across the full length of the dance floor.

You were waiting for a smile to break across his face, but it never came. You thought maybe your mind should've been swirling with thoughts, but, it was eerily quiet up there. Just... look at him.

That man was in love with you?

Wild, honestly.

A visual deep breath from you got Joe to nod his head up at you, a small little raise of his chin, his eyes two big questionmarks, and he meant, what's up? You all right?

All you could really do was shrug as you shook your head a little, a small defeated smile below pinched eyebrows, and you meant, what the fuck are we going to do?

The song ended, people clapped, and then more people joined in to dance.

You kept eyes on each other, both skilled at keeping them trained in the exact right spot, no matter how many people broke the line of contact with their dancing bodies.

That was, until Poppy and Mark slid into your vision - not quite enough to make you break eye-contact, but enough to lean over and look from you, over to Joe, back to you again with shit-eating grins upon their faces.

They'd seen you look at each other and needed you to know that they had seen.

Mark made a face at you that made you want to punch him too hard on that divot between his bicep and tricep, where you could hit him right on a nerve.

Poppy started beckoning the both of you, wide arms waving for the both of you to meet on the dance floor, but before you could even properly think of how to react, the cake cutting was announced.

And Mark and Poppy were little shits.

Made you and Joe stand next to them, each holding a small glass plate, beautiful crystal, ready for them to cut two pieces of cake that they would feed each other and then you'd be ready to collect whatever chunks would be left in their hands.

You remembered how Poppy had been adamant, "If you smear any cake anywhere I'm immediately divorcing you, that's so fucking tacky," and Mark had laughed and argued that he the thought of pushing cake into her face hadn't even crossed his mind.

And Mark loved Poppy, and she trusted him. So there was no hesitation as they fed each other bites from larger chunks of cake that they held in their hands. And you were so ready with your little plate. So ready to be a good best man to Mark, to help him out, had a napkin in the other hand for him to wipe his hand on too.

Cameras flashed, people got pictures and videos of Poppy and Mark feeding each other and thank fuck, it was a clean ordeal. Just two small bites. No mess. Fantastic. Exactly what Poppy wanted.

But Mark and Poppy were little shits and they got you fast.

You and Joe ended up with cake smeared all over. There were shrieks and there was loud laughter and more cameras flashed, and there was buttercream in your eye, and you inhaled vanilla frosting way up into your nose which hurt. Marks hands got cake all over your face, and when he stopped to loudly laugh at his work, through a squinty eye you saw how Poppy got Joe worse.

Joe had cake all over his face, up in his hair and even down his suit.

"Poppy, stop! This is Gucci!" Joe cried out and it made you want to roll your eyes at him. Of course it was Gucci.

The napkin you'd been holding was about to wipe at your face, but Mark stopped you and pulled you in for a group shot with the four of you; you and Joe pushed together into the center, Mark and Poppy either side. Mark squished your cheeks with his one dirty cake hand and Poppy used hers to push against the side of Joe's head. It knocked his head nearly into yours and with the flash of the camera, both Mark and Poppy stepped away. Disappeared from your sides fast. Probably scared you were going to get them back.

And, oh man, you absolutely were going to get them back.

Later, though.

When they'd least expect it. Maybe do something dumb to their house whilst they were away on their honeymoon - you'd think of something.

"We should get new friends," Joe commented, gesturing for you to turn. Universal sign for, come on, follow me, to make it over to the bathrooms to get cleaned up.

"What do you mean? These ones fed us cake!" You joked, trying to pick icing from you eyelashes as you walked and it made Joe halt and drop his face at you.

"She missed my mouth!" he said pointedly, and you laughed as you pushed the swing door to the toilets before stepping inside. You blamed the sudden sense of privacy as you were no longer under the watchful eye of your best friends for what you said next.

"Impressive, that's a difficult mouth to miss,"

Joe narrowed his eyes at you as he studied your face. Your posture. It made him twitch inside his trousers. Was this going to go where he thought it might go?

Then, in the low light of the swanky dark hotel bathroom you were in, you reached a hand over and wiped a thumb across Joe's cheek all the way to the corner of his mouth. It pulled at his lips as you flicked it, scooping up buttercream and bits of cake from his face in between your index finger and thumb that you then brought to your mouth.

Yes, Joe thought. This was absolutely going to go where he thought it might go, and looking at you sucking your digits clean made him audibly groan.

Joe dropped his head and had to focus on breathing.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Deep breaths always helped.

Except, not really. Not this time, anyway. Why was the image of you covered in wedding cake making his dick hard?

Joe had to use a clean hand to adjust himself in his trousers. You saw.

"Yea? You want to finish what you started?" you smirked, eyes twinkling.

And Joe couldn't fucking believe what he was hearing. His eyebrows shot up, and he immediately tried to reason, "There's cake all over this Gucci suit," but he was already leaning in, fingers reaching for your mouth, his body fully betraying him, because how could it decline the invitation?

Joe's kisses tasted like wedding cake. Sickly sweet, vanilla and white chocolate, all sticky and... distant. Joe was leaning over as much as he could, kept his body as far away as possible whilst still making sure his mouth got want it wanted from you.

Joe was trying to stay clean and you weren't having it. It made you pull at him, and it made him lose his jacket.

It was gross, and you had to breathe through your mouth because there was cake up in your nose, but you kind of loved it and started pushing Joe back into a stall.

Joe let you, locking the door behind you before he continued, and you knew posh little clean pristine Joey probably had thoughts and opinions about getting dirty in the toilets of a hotel, swanky or not. But then Joe said, "This cake tastes good," when he licked some off your face and followed up with, "Best way to taste test," whilst you started gathering the fabric of your dress at the hips, slowly inching it upwards.

And like you had asked of him, Joe finished what he started in your kitchen a couple of weeks ago.

Got his big hands, those thick fingers, in all the places you wanted them. Got his mouth there too – he had to, couldn't stop himself. Got frosting all over your neck and all up between your thighs and it was the exact opposite of what you had come in there to do.

Joe had you whimpering and moaning when he eventually slid inside you, face to face this time, pressed up against the stall door, no more distance, and fuck, this was so much better.

You weren't exactly quiet, so he tried to stifle the noises escaping you by scooping frosting from your face into your mouth, which made you laugh, which in turn made him growl, "Oh my God, shit," because that felt fucking amazing.

You had to stop momentarily when you heard someone come in. Had to freeze on the spot, Joe deep inside you, big eyes looking at each other, and it felt a little like you were back in that coat closet. Too close to each other. Barely breathing. Hiding.

It just turned you on more.

Whoever had walked in muttered something about Joe's suit jacket that was on the floor, picked it up and then walked out with it. Presumably to go and find him. Was that Mark?

"Quick," you whispered, not wanting to get caught, and Joe said, "All right, yea, laugh again, come on," which wasn't a joke, but it still made you laugh.

Walking back into the wedding, wiped clean of all the wedding cake and with absolutely nothing running down your inner thighs, you realised you'd missed the bouquet toss. You didn't mind, but you knew you were probably going to get some shit from Poppy for it later.

To remain as unsuspicious as you could, Joe entered half a minute later but then immediately got you a drink, and came to stand beside you. You watched the dance floor for a second, both with drinks in hand, both not sure what to do or what to even say to each other.

What the fuck was your life right now?

Two sudden heavy hands landed on your shoulders, and it was Mark, startling you before he pulled you onto the dance floor with him. You were only just able to quickly pass your glass to Joe who swiftly took it from you before you disappeared into the crowd of dancing couples.

You expected Mark to mention it.

To at least say something about it.

But then he didn't, and you fucking loved him for it.

This is why you and Mark were the friends that you were. Anyone else would've said something, would've commented, joked, would have poked fun.

Not Mark.

Mark just wanted to dance with his best friend, his best man, at his wedding and you could tell he was well on his way to getting drunk because his eyes were half the size they usually were.

"I know I always say that you don't deserve Poppy, because she's too good for you,"

"She is," Mark agreed and smiled at you.

"No, I was wrong. I think you're the perfect fit. Exactly right for each other,"

You saw Mark look over your shoulder, and his eyes went all droopy and lovesick. You knew he had to be looking at Poppy.

His wife.

A quick check proved you right, and you saw Poppy dance with Joe and fuck. Why was Joe looking at her like that? All soft and sweet, like he was the one who had just married her instead of Mark?

In a flash you realised it. And...

Oh no.

Envy.

That was envy?! Shit. Had that been envy this whole fucking time?!

"What's up?" Mark asked, a little confused at what he'd just seen across your face.

"Nothing," you were quick, tried to hide all of it with a smile.

"What?" Mark persisted and you sighed, all deep and heavy, turning back to look at Joe who was still looking at Poppy like the sun shone out of her ass as they slowly swayed to the music together.

"No, it's... it's not– why does he look at her like that?"

Mark blinked at you.

"Sorry?"

"No, never mind, it's stupid, let's not–" you backtracked immediately.

"Oh my God," Mark exclaimed and then laughed loudly, head thrown back before he let it slump forward.

"I might as well have fucking married you today, what the actual fuck, you're– it is true! You and Poppy are literally the same person, it's so– this is so creepy!"

And yes, okay, it was a little creepy that, when Mark and Poppy had just started dating, Poppy apparently had asked Mark about why he would look at you like you were the reason he was even alive to begin with. Mark told you she would still sometimes bring it up when they argued, and Mark would always say, "I don't know! I love her! I can't help what my eyes do!" and Poppy would shout, "That's weird Mark, I am your girlfriend!"

It humbled you real fast.

It had never occurred to you what you and Mark looked like when you communicated with just looks. With eyes and subtle facial changes and this stupid spark of jealousy, which you now recognised was exactly what that was, made you want to go hug Poppy.

So that's what you did.

You took rushed steps and then pried yourself in between Joe and Poppy to hug her.

"My girls," you heard Mark say, but he was quick to correct himself and followed it up with, "Our girls."

Made you want to give him a black eye.

But then Poppy mused, "Our boys." and it kind of felt exactly right.

"My wife," Mark continued, using the offensive Borat accent, and Poppy replied, "My husband," in a Russian accent, the h pronounced as a hard g, because why not. Before you knew it they were making out all gross again, like they had down at the bar where you'd met after the hen do and stag do.

"Yeaaa, why not?" Joe said under his breath, nose all scrunched up.

"You said something about getting new friends?" you joked, and it made Mark find the side of your head to push you away. You laughed as you nearly lost your balance, and Joe laughed as he reached out both arms to make sure that you didn't.

"Come on, let's dance,"

And it was all fun and games getting Joe to make you come on his mouth in a toilet stall before he railed you, but you still had questions. Were still mad for him leaving you in your kitchen without explanation.

Learning that Joe had been having feelings for you just confused you more.

So you danced as you held onto each other because that's how everyone else was dancing, and you decided the moment was another one for you to steal.

"Why did you leave that night?"

Joe took in your question and slowly inhaled through flared nostrils.

"You just walked right out,"

It was the worst thing he could've ever done and he was an idiot, Joe agreed. Good, you thought. At least you were on the same page about it. Joe revealed how learning of how you and Mark had become friends had thrown him for a loop, because there he was, head over heels and finally getting to know you better. Spending more time with you. Granting himself normal human interactions that he hadn't been able to afford himself before you'd been given this job together. And then there you were, telling him how traumatic it had been that guys always seemed to want more from you.

More.

Like Joe wanted more.

Joe couldn't be one of those guys. Didn't want to add to your hurt. And you were also both drunk, and had been shouting at each other in a bar, and that wasn't how he had wanted any of that to go. But, he was still an idiot, and he should have never left.

You nodded and agreed.

"Yes, you are an idiot, and you should have never left... but that's also weirdly considerate,"

"Well, you have been calling me weird behind my back a lot, or so I've heard,"

Big sigh.

Mark and Poppy were not to be trusted.

"Listen…" you chose to ignore what Joe'd just accused you of. "I feel very tender about little teenage me. Fourteen-year-old me felt a lot, did everything with all of her feelings. Went through life feelings first, thoughts second. Out of everyone, out of everything, she makes me cry the most… but I’m not her. Not anymore. I’ve not been her in over a decade, I’m not– I'm not fragile like that anymore, I’m tough now!"

The way Joe had been looking at you as you talked was the same way he'd always look at Poppy... but, times twenty.

Head tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded, a slow smile pulling at his cheeks – and, all right, if this was the type of shit Joe had done his best to hide from you all this time, why he made sure to stay unapproachable and cold, you kind of understood.

"Okay," was all Joe said through a wide smile.

"Okay?"

"Yea. Okay."

So, it was okay.

And when Poppy and Mark passed you, she peeked over Joe's shoulder and asked you again, "Did he apologise? Are you all good now?" and by ways of answering her, you bit into Joe's shoulder. It meant, not entirely. Not yet. But I think we will be.

It made Joe chuckle and pull you close, taking your face into his hands and pressing slow kisses onto each one of your eyelids. It nearly made your knees buckle, and that's when he said it.

Blurted it right out.

Soft enough for only you to hear, but somehow still threateningly loud, because the words rung in your ears.

"I love you."

It hitched your breath immediately.

"No, that's too soon,"

"It's been years,"

Yea, for Joe, maybe. But it had only been, what, eight hours for you. You agreed then and there that if you were going to do this, you were going to do this slow.

Do things slow to get them right.

Like normal people would do.

And sure, normal people wouldn't have the same starting point the two of you had, but it was whatever. Joe could pretend. You told Joe to ignore how he'd just eaten you out whilst you were both covered in cake and got him all flustered as he shushed you, afraid people would hear.

You said Joe could think crazy things. Things like I love you and that, but he couldn't actually say it. Not out loud anyway. Not for you to hear. You didn't care what he told Poppy about you. That was none of your business.

Yes.

You were going to do this sensibly, astutely and normally.

But, then, you weren't really normal people, were you?

Because all throughout that first week, in just those seven days, there had been moments where you'd thought those words too.

When you'd been on your way out on Tuesday morning after staying the night, and had to walk past Joe who was putting that picture of him and Poppy back up in his hallway, except now a new larger frame held the unfolded version that had you and Mark in as well.

And then again when you'd come over on Thursday for dinner, and Joe opened the door in blue jeans, bare feet and a white T-shirt that had a hole just below the collar.

A hole.

You thought you'd never see the day.

And then a couple of hours ago, when you'd been over at Mark and Poppy's for drinks, and they'd pulled out a game to play. It was you and Mark against Poppy and Joe, and whereas Mark and Poppy got ruthlessly competitive, you noticed Joe was doing everything in his power to sabotage the game, making you win.

It's just that you'd decided you weren't just going to blurt it out willy nilly, all haphazardly. Especially not after Joe got you all comfortable in his bed, massaged your shoulders, your back, your legs and then your ass before he'd undressed you fully and made you feel like you were the most important thing in his life right now.

No.

You were keeping those words in for a stupid moment.

Like when you'd catch him digging dirt from under his fingernails whilst trying to be all sly about it.

Or when he'd pretend he didn't mind that you left his kitchen all dirty, but then casually went to clean the entire room straight away.

Or when he'd wake up in a panic when he slept through an alarm, knowing that if you'd say it then, it'd only make him later to whatever he was already late for.

You didn't know. But you'd think of something.

And you were lucky, because there was something grounding, something very secure about knowing that the person who you would say it to wouldn't hesitate to say it back. Would probably repeat it a thousand times then if he could. Kiss you on your eyelids again to make you swoon.

Joe fell asleep that night with you on your side of his bed and you played with his hand until you heard soft snores beside you. What had been so weird before had grown to be just right in the span of just a few days.

And it was all right.

Because Joe was in love with you, and you were in love with Joe.

And that was all that mattered.

the end

---

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(taglist currently full, sorry)

[olasketches]

there is just something deeply sad about sukuna to me and where normally I would make fun of him cause ‘lol you're the reason why you're so miserable’ I understand where his whole 'live only for yourself' mindset might have come from. ‘I was an unwanted child’ some japanese fan even explained

Sukuna wasn’t just a “Creepy Kid”. In JP, he calls himself “忌み子”. This means “A child born unwanted” or “A child whose existence itself is anathema”. He was that much hated by everyone even when he was a child😭

and sure maybe he was a menace as a kid too who knows but hey... STILL. being not only rejected by others but also feeling constant hostility from everyone?? this would have messed up anyone. no wonder sukuna thinks that the best and only way to live/survive and to have some enjoyment in life was to pursue this hedonistic lifestyle… but then again these are just speculations and I’m probably reaching, but one thing that I find immensely sad about him is that...

sukuna doesn't care about dying. he doesn't. he legit sounds like he’s only here waiting for death to come and entertain himself in the meantime ‘to pass time until I die’ but then... why did he come back? that's one question kashimo asked him and sukuna never answered

then are satisfied? if so, why divide your soul and cross the ages as cursed objects?"

sukuna ripped his soul into twenty pieces just to live the same way he did back in heian era? he claims to be satisfied with the way he lives but then he traveled across the ages and reincarnated just to wait for death to come.. again?? sukuna doesn't answer kashimo’s question cause honestly... I don't think he knows himself the answer to it. I get a feeling that there might be a sense of... longing here. maybe some part of sukuna is longing and looking for something, anything that can fill that ever growing void inside him, he just doesn't know what that is that is missing.

[thebladeblaster]

I don’t know if I ever talked about this but Aichi is a total gigachad for this

This dude was literally dying from the reverse and still went on to beat Kourin, Takuto, and Kai in an epic boss rush. Meanwhile he’s like “pfft I’m fine” while in agonizing pain. Remember Aichi is currently facing this excruciating pain all while focusing on cardfighting. Like…I can barely even do anything when I have a headache. Aichi’s being torn apart from the inside by an alien force and he still has enough concentration to win against Kourin and Takuto. Imagine how much better he would have done if he wasn’t distracted by being in excruciating pain? What a freaking legend. He wasn’t actively dying against Kai but realistically that pain probably didn’t disappear it just stopped getting worse 😅.

So this is why Aichi is a gigachad and Link Joker wanted his bod🤣. Like think about it Takuto said a cardfight would kill him but he cardfights two people and Reverse Takuto tries to outright murder him and he’s STILL somehow still alive. Aichi is more durable than you’d think 😅.

Considering we learn just how much attack power he has in If that’s not TOO shocking. Basically when it comes to attack power you have to at least have some ability to endure what you dish out. So If kinda explains how Aichi isn’t FREAKING DEAD.

Once again is it ANY wonder why Link Joker wanted this guy?

I think Aichi has a high tolerance for pain because of his backstory AKA him getting the crap beat out of him for his whole childhood. Though, I don’t really know much about that kind of stuff personally. That’s just my guess as for why his pain tolerance is so high.

Let’s not forget Kai went on to shove him in this state though I don’t think he knew Aichi was dying (I would have to rewatch to remember).

Honestly this scene still sets me off. This is like kicking a puppy. What the heck Kai?! Despite how much this scene makes me want to strangle Kai with his scarf I’ll just assume that he didn’t know or it was more of the void then him then.

Also Aichi’s behavior in completely ignoring his friends telling him to chill out, acting on his own and sacrificing his well being to protect his friends…sound familiar?

Now, I definitely don’t think Legion Mate was that planned out especially after the rewatch I did but it was a funny consistency I noticed. For context I don’t think the seed was planned at all because the Quatre Knights act like cartoon villains in their first appearance and Reverse Takuto tries to drag Aichi into the gate…when he HAS the Link Joker seed.

One thing I really appreciate about Legion Mate Aichi over If Aichi is that he feels much more consistent with his previous characterization. I don’t remember who said it but I remember hearing a saying that turning a character into an antagonist doesn’t involve removing their old traits. Instead that it involves recontextualizing them. That is definitely done here. When you think about it Aichi’s behavior here with going to continue fighting despite literally dying was a massive red flag for what he would do on season 4. At Aichi’s core he hasn’t changed that much really in between seasons. I just think he has a different perspective after the Link Joker events and definitely at least a bit of Link Joker influence 😅. Aichi has not changed much but the situation has due to the seed. I think that’s the only real difference between Link Joker and Legion Mate Aichi.

[shuamorollss]

cupcake — yjw x gn!reader

fluff, classmates2lovers, not proofread, errors ahead, christmas setting, 913 wc ( notes at the end ^_^ )

Christmas parties are the best days— You were wrong.

You could've been happily celebrating with your classmates and singing songs yet here you are, sitting on the stairs outside your school building, feeling the complete opposite.

You were awfully disappointed on this day. Christmas parties should've been the best days yet reality hits hard and things will never go from what you expect. As always, something's gonna be the downfall of all that enjoyable mood.

And by best day, you meant finally offering your passionately made cupcakes you made for Yang Jungwon, your close friend, and the guy you have longing feelings for in your class.

You have expected too much; from your friends encouraging you to bake and confess. You sure cannot blame them, no one expected any of this to happen.

As in, no one did. especially his demeanor today.

You couldn't hear footsteps though you could feel someone's presence getting near.

You were too drowned with your thoughts to even care who it was nor to make sure if your assumption was correct.

" Hey. "

Your foggy thoughts quickly fades as you turn around to see Jungwon sitting two steps from you, and on his hand was a plastic wrap with a cupcake inside.

He was holding the cupcake you had made specifically for him that you left under his desk.

You slowly turn around, the boy unable to view you, also poorly attempting to not mind the boy. Though for some reason it aches your heart to know your close friend doesn't like homemade pastries.

If he refuses every single pastries your classmates gave him, how would yours be any different when it's the same as everyone else: homemade.

Silence fills the two of you, Your eyes staring at an empty void, refusing to talk to the other.

" Were you waiting for me to take this? “ Jungwon started, raising the plastic on his hand as he examined it, then shifting his gaze at you.

Even if your delicate locks were getting in the way of your daring front, he could sense your overall miserable state, and he honestly doesn’t feel any better to see his friend get grouchy over something like this.

After what happened, you had realized that you never really knew him. It’s like… he never told you anything about himself and you were just there assuming what he’s like to you then go on with it.

You winced by that sudden hit of realization. It was indeed embarrassing and regretful looking back at it now.

“ It’s alright if you don’t eat it. I understand your preference. “ you sighed as you rolled your eyes in disbelief once again.

" If only you told me you didn't like homemade sweets in the first place, I wouldn't have had the trouble of making it. "

You heard a quick chuckle from Jungwon, " Y/n, to be honest… I would love to try your sweets. "

" And I'd eat this right now. " He added.

Your eyebrows rose as you swiftly turn around once more, a pinch of surprise plastered on your face.

" You said you didn't like homemade sweets? "

" Y/n. " You hold your breath as you notice Jungwon's figure drawing closer to you, dazing your thoughts. " Jungwon? "

" Do you have any idea what I was trying to do? "

" I'm thinking about too much to even care about your intentions, won. "

Jungwon took a deep breath, proceeding to sit on the same stair level as you were sitting on.

" Did you know why I wasn't eating any of our classmate's sweets? "

You lightly shook your head as you mumbled a no, attempting to avoid laying a single gaze at him.

" It's because I was… " He laughed.

your brows scrunched at the sudden pause. " Because of what? Won. "

" It's because I was waiting for yours. "

You felt your chest tighten almost losing your breath so suddenly by the other's confession.

unknowingly, you scoffed at the other yet your heart beats a bit hastily than before.

Your eyes locked onto each other, no words exchanging for a few moments. You had no idea what to say as your mind goes blank, the sentence of the other repeating in your head.

" Mine? " You repeated, in an attempt to receive confirmation.

" Yeah " Jungwon quickly replied.

" I was waiting for you to offer me yours. " His gaze transferring to the cupcake (your cupcake) on his hand.

You whispered an "Oh" Under your breath, which the male apparently heard.

" Oh? That's all you're gonna say? " He laughed once more with a beaming a smile you tried not to mind.

Your mind begins to snap out of its trance inside your head, gathering all thoughts that have happened this night.

" I only made that one only. "

" This is the only one? "

" Yeah. " You quickly nodded

" I feel so special then. " He replied. His gentle smirk suddenly took an effect as your smile copied hid and your heart dropped like a rock on water.

You never felt this much bliss during christmas.

" But.. " Jungwon let out, the curl from his lips slowly going down.

" But what? " You raised a brow.

" I'm sorry that you had to hear all that— the one I said earlier. I guess I was kind of dumb to think of a good excuse just so that you can offer me yours… I honestly didn't know what to say. "

" It's fine, won. I'm just glad you're eating it now. " You reassured, your gazes meeting once again.

" and only yours. "

notes! gigi resurrection era /j HAJSMAMDJAK i miss writing to be honest TT and I'm so glad i had some vocabulary juice still on my brain to write this drabble!! and maybe I'd post my sunoo or hee fic on my bday too, which is tomorrow!! whichever i finish first 😍🙏 JANXNAJXNNA i still can't believe i had the motivation to write when exams r starting in 3 days 😭 I need to study fr ....This drabble is also inspired by a scene in this japanese bl series that i forgot the title of bc i watched it months ago TT but it was good! this scene was cute so I wrote it ^_^

perm. taglist! @jangwonie @coffeewon @butterflyy-ningg @w3bqrl

© seungiepup 2022. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[yumenotambourin]

Can you tell me more about your Elfilis pleaaseeee

AAA TYSM FOR ASKING!!!s

Okay so I’m not really good with open questions, but I’ll just dump whatever comes to my mind, if you want to know something specific feel free to ask!! I’ve been rotating them in my mind nonstop for two years I’d never be able to write everything.

First of all, my Lizzie is the Ultimate Lifeform. What does that mean, you may ask? Well, to put it simply, they are meant to* be the pinnacle of evolution, a being capable of anything, a being that cannot be outmatched.

*I say they are meant to because they are not a product of evolution. They are an angel birthed by Void’s feeling of being alive(???).

So, Elfilis is the perfect being. And knowing this has made them grow arrogant and self absorbed, although not exactly with malice. They are aware that they are genetically superior to any other being in the universe, and they treat others (who they call “inferior beings”) with I don’t really know how to explain this but with less disdain and more condescension. They essentially treat everyone around them like a little child might treat bugs: as tiny, insignificant things who can be fun to watch but even more to squash.

That’s kinda why they destroy planets, too. They just think it’s fun, and they genuinely don’t see anything wrong within it because they see themselves as above “pointless inferior concepts” such as morality. They also never really had a home, instead they travel from planet to planet, only briefly stopping to rest before blowing them up with no remorse, so they have little to no concept of consequences or society, and they dismiss these things as being below them. Also, they don’t destroy these planets due to ill feelings, in fact they love visiting different ones, but they simply don’t see the point in letting the planets continue existing after they’ve seen them (sorry if I’m not explaining well I’m just a bit tired)

Btw going on a little tangent here but today I was translating old Japanese mouce posts and one of them said “I find their arrogance inspiring” 😭 emoji)I mean I get what they’re saying, and honestly same but not worded it like that 😭 but maybe I have to look better what each word means.

Throughout their unmeasurably long existence, Elfilis never even thought of the possibility of being defeated. They are a smart mous, but they are also painfully overconfident and reckless to a fault. Which is, for example, why they let themself be run over, or get captured in the first place.

Lizzie was captured with guns. They might have healing abilities, but when the thing that hurts you stays inside of their body it actually made it worse. So they were shot until they passed out from the pain.

While in captivity, Elfilis spent the vast majority in their dream world, using it to explore the outside through the visitors’ memories and trying their best to pretend like everything is alright, waking only to see Neichel.

Btw, they’re very torn on their feelings towards Neichel, because on one hand she kept them company and stood by their side the entire time and they grew attached to her, while on the other hand she stole their song and exploited them like the rest, plus the sole fact that she is a human.

Also the New Worlders' feelings about Elfilis were mixed between fear, wonder and tenderness(like 🥺), no matter how much hatred one could hold for a being who attempted to destroy their planet, for nearly everyone it vanished the moment they saw how beautiful and miserable this creature was.

But Lab Discovera was sooo close to develop technology beyond anything humanity could've ever imagined, and if they frred the mous they'd have all the more reason to turn this planet to dust. So its better to keep them caged, right...?

Anyways, their decision to split was a stupid impulsive choice they made in the heat of the moment during a failed attempt at escape. They figured that by ejecting all their feelings would’ve allowed them to reason better, and the half of themself outside could help the half of them inside escape. They certainly didn’t expect to spawn two babies and condemn them to suffer for millennia.

In the present, Elfilis greatly loves their little ones, and takes on the role of the cool older sibling for them. They want the Gemini to be as happy as possible to make up for all the suffering they’ve put them through. Btw, they don’t want the babies to necessarily follow their footsteps, but they want them to at least be aware that they, too, are perfect like their sibling.

Btw they despise Kirby for being a “bad influence” on Elfilin and for trying to prevent them from existing just cause he made a little friend and for running them over, but they tolerate him because he undoubtedly makes their babies happy.

They also often pick on Meta Knight, mainly to tease Elfilin cause he admires him, but also cause they see that he’s trying to make himself look cooler by acting the way Galacta is (falsely) portrayed in the present and they think its funny.

Btw the were also a Gucci Gangster, specifically the healer of the team. Due to void shenanigans they can’t remember much of their other two friends, but meeting Kirby and Meta Knight unlocked their memories of Galacta. They miss him very much but they’re somehow sure they’d be able to bring him back one way or another.

Okay so its 2 am so that’s all for today, I repeat I’m not too good with open questions so if you want to know more please feel free to ask!!!

[mihwee]

hi! hope youre doing well~ ^^ first time asking from you, so sorry if it seems kinda awkward ;; could i possibly ask for a nsfw alphabet with gn reader and tartaglia/childe from genshin impact if youre up for it?

dont stress, take care of yourself!

hi stink, i can finally do this again since im starting to post daily 💀 after this ill do a TVIDTD (the villainess is destinied to die) nsfw hc 🔥

The Harbinger's алфавит

sys/Content: NSFW ABC. childe gets fcked 🔥

WARNING: nsfw duh, mention of bloodplay, clits nd cocks, but no specified gender

MINORS UNDER 13 DNI IN GEN. MINORS UNDER 16 DO NOT REQ.

GN READER / drabbles enjoy (+ im trying to find my blog aesthetic holy fuckk ) also, reader described as traveler or comrade yeh yeh

A: Aftercare

Let say, Childe is a sweet person. Whether its you who fucked the life out of him or vice versa, He was a person that lacked love and support from the beginning. But even so, with his playfull personality, i think he'll guarantee the best cuddles afterwards. Giving things he never received type of stuff. But ofcourse~ he'll love it more when you take care of him. (Even if hes fully capable of doing it himself lmao)

"How sweet of you y/n, How about you come a little closer."

B: bodypart :: which part do they mwa mwa the most

Your hair maybe. He likes taking little swifts of your scent every now and then, and especially your perfume, your shampoo... so he knows What type of perfumes you like. (So he can buy u them~) If were talking about Things He'd want To lick, suck and maybe gobble up... Thats up to your imagination.

"Oh, how can i just choose one comrade?"

C: Cum :: does they love cum, hate cum etc

Childe loves the feeling the he pleased you so much, (as usual.) He would usually lick up all your release, Letting the unusual flavor slide down his throat. A feeling that he cant buy again no matter how much money he gives.

"C'mon. Dont be a Loser, round two!"

D: Dirty Secret

Heavy Masochist. Honestly, hes a mix of both. He feels the thrill of fighting, the possbility of losing excites him the most. So it woudnt be a suprise if he likes getting a spank or two. Maybe a couple fingers inside, four? Pfft. Not a problem. you can choose which hole, He woudnt mind.

"A-ahh.. you can keep going, right there."

E: Experience :: how many cocks have childe took up his ass? Only time would tell

In terms of flirtiness, fuck hes a veteran. Before he met you, it was a usual ocassion that he slept with a couple women there and there. yet, never filling that void deep inside his heart. (oo~ emo.) You can enrust him he knows what hes doing, and exactly knowing how to send you over the edge.

"Mmh, close already? Want me to keep going?"

F: Favourite position

Missonary, Mating press, lotus position etc... he loves seeing your expression, your face. So its no wonder he likes these types of positions. Whether your biting your lip in pleasure as you pound into him, Or pool drooling onto your shirt as he bended your leg over. Fucking you to the fullest

"dont hide your face from me."

G: goofiness (he cant contain the silliness 😢) :: how silly are they in the sheets

Is he more humourous during sex? Not really. Well ofcourse he is on a normal day, Just not when you both are going feral on eachother. he particualarly likes being a little more serious on how he can make you orgasam. But sometimes, like for example: when you both accidentally broke the legs of the bed you were fuckin' on

He'd definetly let out a laugh or two lmaoo

"Get up~ we arent done yet."

H: Hair ::

Id say hes pretty well trimmed (if were talking ab pubes) not too much. Neither alot, Musk makes up for alot of aspects in sex you know? Plus hes busy killing people, itd be a waste to shave it all off anyway LMAO, + if its YOU were talking about, He doesnt give a fuck lol, a Poles a pole, and a holes a hole. You know the sayings

"H-hey! What are you pulling on? ......Nevermind." *💀💀

i: Intimacy :: careless whisper in the background~ how romantic are they?

Id say hes quite the rough-romantic? Always either wanting to get spanked or slapped, or gripping onto your hips and shoulders. Whispering words of "I know you love this." And all that. I guess he likes complimenting himself by a ton, and your groans seem to fuel his desire up even more.

"Let me hear you. Show me how much you want to fuck me."

J: Jack off :

He doesent really jack off most of the time, too busy doing missions, too busy getting commanded to kill this, kill that, do this. But when he gets the chance to do so, the only thing that'll ever come to mind is you roaming your hands all over his body. Pitifully bc he only jerks off when hes far away from u, doing missions as said earlier.

"Y/n. Y/n. Y/n. Y/n* —very breathless manner... wow~

K: kink :: Name atleast one of their kinks!

Getting tied up, or tying someone up, restriction of someones movements, letting him do whatever he wants with them is quite the taboo thing he inherited from his fellow harbingers. It excites him more, for every sensation is doubled.

"Don't worry y/n,, i wont bite... unless.. you want me to."

L: location :: where do u two do the devils tango more frequently?

The classic bed or some hidden alleyway in the city of liyue. Childe is quite rowdy in the bedroom, as much as his personality guarantees. —He'd probbably be moaning in pleasure, your fingers knuckle deep inside his ass as some random kid checked up 'why is there a stray cat meowing sm?' LMFAOO

M: motivation :: How long does he last? minute boy or hour man? You get the lines.

I shoudve set this to L as libido. But~ childe is very determined. Hes a man known for his incredulous stamina, and his reputation for lasting upon hours and hours, AND best believe Your gonna walk away with limp legs or a broken voice. Nothing in between.

"Your already so needy Y/N~ why waste the time? Another round."

N: NO (helll noooo) : turn off or icks

Non-consensual. It stems from his childhood, from getting forced to do things he doesnt like. Or, knowing how to fight for his life at the mere age of 14 was something he never asked for as a defenseless child. As much as he likes to spice things up in the bedroom, CNC gives him quite the ick.

"I... i think ill pass on that Traveler."

O: oral

Definetly giving, He likes to draw out some of your cute moans As he sucks you off, Or lick your clit. Holding onto your thighs or thick shaft as he lowers his head onto your crotch. Making u groan his name in pleasure.

"Mmgh,Nngh. Do you like this y/n? "

P: Pace ;; how fast the plap plap

Depending, he usually starts from slow then it grows quicker by the time you both chase for release. In a particualary good morning, he'd rather thrust in your tight hole as he whispers sweet nothings, —or in a bad evening, Riding out your lenght till it cant even produce a drop of cum.

"Fuck,fuck... im close.. im.—h-hah..."

Q: quickie

It like a everyday thing for the two of you. In some quiet boutiques Changing room? Why not? In some discreet alleyway fucking like some kind of animals? Casual. A quick fuck woudnt hurt in the eyes of tartaglia, considering hes always on the move.

"Come on...anywhere would be good Y/n...."

R: risk

S: stamina ;; how long the plap plap

Speaking of quickie... he loves risks. He loves the feeling of your hand onto his mouth as your ride/fuck the shit out of him. he grows even more harder when you tell him to keep quiet. Honestly, hes just really up for anything.

"Shit... they c-can see us.."

T: toy ;; do they use brr?

Stamina and pace is very different, as always— it depends. Childe can last for up to 8 hours with you AND a stack of bottled waters. And sometimes, he'd writhe under you, clawing your back as he came for litteraly the 5th time. Feeling like he cant take it anymore.

"Rougher..rougher..fuck, p-please.."

U: unfair :: how much dey like to tease frr

Ofcourse. A wide selection of cuffs, Muzzles, Butt plugs, Everything, its mostly you who decided to buy them to use on childe.. with his money... ahen. But he doesnt pay any mind, He even finds it quite arousing...

"Dont turn it...up...h-hah...please.."

V: volume :: how loud this bitch

Very. Childe is MAXED out stats when it comes to teasing. Letting go of your shaft as you almost neared your climax, Or pulling out the moment you convulse around his dick. He teases so much, you feel like your about to punch him at any waiting moment.

"Woah woah.. so pumped up already?"

W: wild card ;; (wild headcanon, Wild scenario etc)

he freqently lets out rough growls, or slutty whimpers. And doesnt feel embarassed to let all his noises out. —Eitherways, it always feels like music to your ears.

"....D-Dont laugh at me..."

X: Xtreme

Ok. So, You heard that childe was rumoured to be quite the playboy in his motherland. Fucking women left and right, but never reaching his climax. And it seemed to intrigue you. Later that night.. you fuck him hard and count every time he orgasamed. Sucking him to the very last drop.

"I-it was the thing of the past! C-come on now... please...nngh.."

Y: Yearning ;; how much he misses u when ur out

Hm, It might sound unusual, but he loves bloodplay. He might hate most things like Vomiting, Or stool-play, Blood is no match, and one of the many factors that turned him on quite fucked up-ly. Get it? Nevermind. You dont need to dig into it...

"Tastes the best, Mmh."

I feel like ive written this, Hm. But, He feels quite the slump whenever your not around. Even sfter his missions with the fatui, his energy quite drained whenever your not there, and hugging some random pillow in your house. (That he sneaked into when your away lol)

"When will y/n arrive... Haahh..."

Z: ZZZ :: after zex... do mimimi right away?

Not really. When he feels holding up a little, he loved to stare at you dearingly. Watching your chest rise up and down as you breathed softly, and the way your hair framed your face as you slept after a pretty hard session. Keepying you protected under his watch.

"How cute, Traveler."

I put some explanation for some Letters, bc ik some of us dumb as shit like me who dont get it right away unless i read the desc myself

this also took awhile 💀 me and my friends 10hr swimming trip ended so im really dead tired (maybe id write more for some reqs if i get horny as fuck)

ALSO I HOPE U GUYS DIDNT SEE THE WAY MY EFFORT PLUMMELED TO THE GROUND..its night here in my country...

[elis-corner]

hihi!! could i request a hermits (seperate) x reader who bites to show affection? like they just chomp on the hermits forearm with a big grin on their face? completely okay if not!!

Hey there anon lovely :) I must say I had to reread this at first when I saw it, I've never gotten something quite like it! I picked out a couple of Hermits to write about, but I hope it's good enough for you

I don’t know if this needs any warnings? I guess affectionate biting and mildly suggestive stuff (if you really squint for it)? Let me know!

I instantly knew this was the request to quench my need to write something! Enjoy! Also I totally didn’t forget to queue this and thought it was just really unsuccessful even after a week...

Reader who likes chomping on their s/o's forearm (affectionate!)

Grian

"What on earth- y/n, what are you doing?"

He certainly was surprised the first time it happened. His giggles broke up his sentences into two or three word chunks.

Even if he laughed, it was more because of how unexpected it was. And he would never want to upset you, either. Even at first he'd try to keep his shock to a minimum.

He'd honestly just roll with it, and he'd give it a try on you one day to see how you'd react. It's quite birdlike, the way his teeth touch your skin for less than a second like a bird pecking at seeds.

If you like being chomped back, I swear on the Void there is no stopping him.

Scar

Scar was probably so distracted by what he was thinking about--most likely you, since you dominate his thoughts--that when he felt you latch on he jumped out of his skin.

He'd exclaim one of his high pitched "oh my goodness" cries, before realising it was in fact you biting him and not Jellie. He'd definitely joke about that, and probably give you a cat related nickname after he took a few nibbles to the arm.

"You're cute, you know? Just like a kitten, you are!"

He finds it adorable. Nothing could convince him otherwise.

If you were both standing, he'd lift you up and hug you tight to his chest, and probably spin you around too.

If you're lying down he'd stay still, but his other arm would play with your hair or rub your cheek. For some reason he loves feeling your jaw move as you're nibbling on him; it's almost satisfying.

Mumbo

If Scar is king of surprise than Mumbo is that of confusion.

He has absolutely no clue why his significant other would bite his redstone covered forearm--which you can definitely taste, grainy against your lips--and would be such a fumbling mess.

Despite his confusion, he melts inside, which doesn't do much good for his mind-boggled state.

"*Insert a whole bunch of nonsense talk*"

He doesn't mind the biting. His only objection is the idea of you ingesting that much redstone; who knows whether that's healthy?

"Are you sure you're alright? I mean, like, do you really want to bite my arm? No, no, I do like it, it's just... the redstone! Is that a good idea?"

If to you it is, he'll just make sure that arm stays clean when he's not working. You can't stop the spoon from worrying about you!

Just promise me you'll make sure to get a nice chomp when his sleeves are rolled up and he’s got some arm exposed, alright?

Ren

As a part canine he gets the whole biting thing entirely. It’s fine to him, it’s natural, it feels great, he’s not stopping you.

Give him that first chomp and he’s all over you. I’m talking flirty talk, messy kisses, and bites of his own.

Before you started doing it he was probably a bit nervous to bite you, but that first chomp was all he needed. Little bites on your ears or while you kiss, the occasional one on your arm, and he adores leaving them peppered across your jawline.

If you’ve been biting down hard he’ll keep his sleeves rolled up, even if it were freezing, just to show the server who’s he is.

It’s an instinct, what can I say?

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Edit: This may have been a Selfship event story, but it is also a major part of the Sapphire Heartverse: Sugar Crash Void Bash canon!

Day 1: Share your very first romantic kiss

Well, it's already known how Vanilla and Tippy had their first kiss! (here!) But here's a short story on how Vanilla and Tippy had their first kiss with Bel!

It's a crisp, calm, delightful autumn evening. The three gentlemen are walking down the sidewalk, taking in the scenery, breathing in that nice fall air, watching the leaves twirl off the branches of trees, and… they're trying to find a way to break the silence! Bel glances up at Vanilla, who's in the middle of the other two. Xe locks eyes for a brief moment with the tall man and averts xis gaze to the trees beside xem. Vanilla, who has been the unfortunate victim of having to wear pants this season, puts his hands in his pockets and looks down at Tippy,

"It's quiet. Pretty peaceful out this evening, hm?"

"Oh yeah." Tippy smiles. Bel wants to chime in and say something. They're a little nervous because of everything that happened about a year ago… they used to be influenced by an evil gemstone…and yet these two not only wanted to be their friend but also take them out on a date. Tippy looks over at Bel, noticing xe's a little shy at the moment. He pipes up and smiles at Bel,

"So, what are you gonna get at the cafe, Bel? Are you more of a sweets kind of person or savory?"

"Me? Oh, huh… I mean, like, I do enjoy a nice treat here and there. But, like, I guess I could just go with anything, you know? I mean, I can be pretty picky, not going to lie about that," Bel chuckles and touches his own chest, gesturing to himself, "Okay, honestly, I am a more than just a little picky… but, I'm willing to try almost anything once honestly. Ahahahaha!" Vanilla tries to add to the conversation, but Bel continues, "Sometimes I even think about trying random foods from all around the world, like, I'll probably try to do a little country to country taste testing, you know? Maybe, like, get one thing from each country-" Bel puts their hand up, "WAIT. Maybe I could get one of the same thing from each country I go to. Or wait, maybe I should get something different-? I don't know, it's all so confusing, like-" Bel laughs and looks over at Vanilla and Tippy. 

He instantly feels self conscious. Shit, I'm talking too much about myself again. Why do I keep doing this? Bel thinks to himself. He clears his throat,

"Uh hum…yeah…"

"I think that would be fun, heheh!" Tippy grins at xem. Vanilla nods,

"Hey, we're here." He opens the cafe door for the other two fellas. 

"Thank you so much, Vans! Oh you're such a sweetie pie." Tippy touches Vanilla's arm as he walks inside. Bel checks xis nails as xe walks in, but catches xemself,

"O-oh! Thank you, Nilla. You always were the better servant boy." Bel attempts to make a little joke, but as that sentence came out of their mouth, they instantly felt like a jerk saying it, "Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in a bad way."

"You're fine." Vanilla tells them. 

As the three get to their table next to the window, they all admire the autumn view. The leaves blow in the slight breeze. Tippy takes a sip of his pumpkin spiced hot chocolate, then squeaks.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Vanilla looks concerned.

"Yeah, I just got my tongue burned!" Tippy says. "At least I can just lick the whipped cream until it cools off though, heheh."

"OMG, that reminds me of this one time back when I was working at that crusty old mansion, one of the guys that used to work there found a scorpion? And he like, grabbed it? I was like, 'what are you doing put that thing down right now' and he was like, 'watch this' and I was like 'okay' and he freaking… puts this creature in his mouth and it like, bites his tongue- well, it didn't bite his tongue, it stung it," Bel interjects. As xe continues xis story, Vanilla daintily puts a spoonful of sugary whipped cream covered in caramel and chocolate sauce in his mouth. The other two listen to Bel talk and tell stories. Not only about his time working at the mansion, but also about what happened while he was under the jewel's influence. 

Bel suddenly realizes, after about 20 minutes of talking nonstop, that they didn't let either of the two say a single word. They feel self conscious once again and try to wrap up their story. They end up stumbling over their words and embarrassing themself. They sip their equally as sugary coffee and stare down at their drink.

Tippy's brows frown, understanding what Bel might be feeling right now. He just has a lot to say… maybe the reason he talks so much is because he just needs somebody to listen… Tippy thinks to himself. Vanilla isn't very talkative and he's introverted, where Bel is extroverted, and Tippy is ambiverted. Unbeknownst to Bel, Tippy has empathy for xem while Vanilla is happy to listen to other people talk. It's true that Bel has some problems involving selfishness, carelessness, and the need for popularity…but all of that stems from poor self esteem yet at the same time, his inflated self image. 

Tippy reads them like a book,

"Bel?"

"Yuh huh?" Xe looks at Tippy curiously.

"You're not bothering us, you know. You can talk as much as you'd like." Tippy gives xem a gentle and knowing smile. Vanilla nods,

"It's true. I know back when we disliked each other, I would say pretty nasty things. We were both at each other's throats… I want you to know that I take it all back. I don't hate you anymore, and I genuinely enjoy your company, Beleza."

Bel looks back and forth between the two fellas. He smiles and politely nods his head, then takes a drink from his coffee. Tippy softly touches the back of their hand,

"We mean it. You fit right in with us, you know? You're always welcome at our house."

"He's right. We're misfits. Look at us, we were all outcasts and outsiders. We didn't work at Lord D- I mean, Dio's mansion for no reason. If you ask me, I would call that fate." Vanilla tells them, "Bel, it's true. Anyone who has ever worked at Dio's mansion is an outcast in some way or another. But we found security in each other. We found comfort and safety in one another. To hell with the ones who shunned us for who we are." 

"Well said, Vans!" Tippy lightly claps, then he jokes at Bel, "You can tell he's a little passionate about this kind of stuff, haha!"

"I guess you guys are right… ugh, it just… I dunno." Bel sighs and looks at his coffee. Vanilla reaches for Bel's hand and caresses the back of it softly,

"You're always welcome in our home, Beleza. We mean that."

As the three of them walk out of the cafe, all smiles and laughs, Tippy lightly bonks his head on Bel’s shoulder. Bel giggles and playfully bonks xis head on top of Tippy’s. Vanilla smiles at the other two and teasingly bumps his shoulder into Bel. They look up at him, give a shy chuckle and touch his bicep,

“You guys are, like… really affectionate. I kind of figured since I’ve seen you two nuzzling and kissing all over each other all the time, ahahahaha!” 

“Yeah.” Vanilla rubs his neck with a slight smile, “It’s funny. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I never thought I would find a kindred spirit such as Tippy… and hm, now you.”

“Nilla! You should have known I can never get enough attention.” Bel teases. 

They all walk back to Vanilla’s black SUV. Bel feels a great sadness wash over him, he really enjoyed spending more time with his potential partners. Vanilla opens the passenger’s side for Tippy, then the middle door for Bel.

“I guess it’s time for you to take me back to the hotel, huh?” Bel gives them both a bittersweet smile. Vanilla and Tippy look at xem forlornly, then at each other. Vanilla speaks,

“That is correct… but it doesn’t mean we can’t still hang out for a while after that.” Bel looks up into Vanilla’s eyes, his smile still a little sad,

“I would really like that.” 

The three sing along to songs and make jokes the entire way back to the hotel where Bel is staying for a while. Xe takes them both up to his room, where Tippy proceeds to leap face first on xis bed and lays there for a while.

Bel and Vanilla both look at each other with an amused face, then burst out laughing. Bel jumps on the bed next to him, and Vanilla just sits down daintily on the bed. Tippy sits up and giggles with Bel. They both end up playfully wrestling with each other while Vanilla watches. He covers his mouth and chuckles at the two goofing around. Bel holds onto Tippy and watches him try to wriggle free,

“Hey! No fair, you’re stronger than me!” Tippy laughs. Bel smirks,

“Well, maybe you should hit the gym, little man!”

Vanilla chuckles at the two of them then crawls over,

“Don’t make me come over there. I’ll sit on you both!”

“Sounds good to me.” Tippy teases. Bel playfully tugs on Vanilla’s sweater, 

“Why don’t you join us, big guy?”

Vanilla leans over and lays next to them both. After a lull in the conversation, Bel speaks up,

“So… um…” They lean up and look over at the other two, “Ugh, this is so awkward…”

“What’s up, Bel?” Tippy asks.

“Well, like… you guys are so cute.” Bel covers his face, “I want to ask… for… like… a kiss… or something.”

Vanilla leans up and gently takes Bel’s hands away from their face. The two of them stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Vanilla lightly touches Bel’s chin and tilts his head,

“I’ve been thinking the same thing… Beleza…”

Tippy covers his mouth and watches the other two share a tender moment. Bel feels his cheeks get hotter as Vanilla leans in with his eyes closed. Their lips meet finally. Bel feels Vanilla’s warm, glossed lips, the taste of vanilla sugar flavored lip gloss glides over his mouth. Bel holds onto Vanilla’s shoulders and kisses him back. Vanilla slowly pulls away and gazes down at Bel with hooded eyelids. Bel is in a daze from kissing this man who he finds to be very very handsome. Vanilla smirks and gives a low chuckle,

“You look pleased…”

“O-oh! Yeah, I… oh my god, I just… that was uh… yeah.” Bel covers xis mouth, still tasting Vanilla’s lip gloss. Xe glances over at Tippy, wanting to kiss him as well. Silently, the two of them make their way to each other. Tippy leans up and Bel leans in. Their lips lock, even more gloss gets mixed in. The taste of Tippy’s raspberry flavored gloss glides over Bel’s lips, making xem lightly lick Tippy’s bottom lip. Tippy gets surprised but welcomes it, kissing xem deeper. Bel melts into Tippy’s kiss and softly touches his arm. The two of them pull away for breath, looking each other in the eyes. Bel averts his gaze, catching his breath a bit,

“Wow… you both really know how to kiss a guy, huh?”

Tippy smiles and wraps Bel up in a hug, which Bel enthusiastically returns, falling backwards and having Tippy lie on top of him. Vanilla jokingly lies on top of the other two, not putting his full weight on them though.

“Waugh! Vans, you’re crushing us!” Tippy teases him.

“I’m crushing you both with my love.” Vanilla kisses Tippy’s cheek and leans down to kiss Bel’s forehead. Tippy and Vanilla end up peppering Bel’s face with kisses on either side of his face, making him giggle.

“Oh yeah, I could get used to this!” Bel squeaks with delight.

The End

[vicsy]

hello my love 🤍🤍🤍🤍 for the 150 prompts, i’m going to give you three, so you can choose whichever it is that inspires you the most.

16 / 51 / 121

I LOVE YOUUUU 🥰

HELLO SOL MY DEAR

you were probably looking for something more... sweet or happy but I am an evil lil mouse so. It's not what you expected, I think, but I still hope it's good!

Prompt 121. My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes. Piarles, 959 words.

tw for themes of grief and loss, character death BUT NOT REALLY (you know how I am) + slight supernatural elements. again, it's me.

“My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes,” Charles laughs breathily, lit up by the setting sun. 

He is telling the truth. It's hard not to want to be friends with Charles, thus he has many. Charisma, natural charm, you name it; everyone falls for him. It's inadvertent, like Titanic meeting its fate with the iceberg. And it's safe, the warm flock of people Charles calls friends, surrounding him with love and understanding, exhibiting just a dose of healthy jealousy whenever they catch him gushing about Pierre too much. They tease him, it's normal; it's what friends do.

They also ask a lot of questions. 

“You know,” Charles carries on, smiling, splaying his palm over the grass beneath him. It's soft and a bit damp; last night it poured like hell. “They always say, 'Pierre this, Pierre that, when will we get to meet your wonderful boyfriend, Charles?' Maybe they think I just like to keep you a secret from them. That I don't like to share.”

Charles' friends, great as they are, would never survive the PDA. Pierre's hand around his waist, staking his claim; sitting too close and seeking constant proximity no matter the crowd; tugging Charles for an innocent kiss that would turn into anything but. He sought it out as much as Pierre did. Seemed like they breathed in unison, so attuned to each other. Out on the streets or under the covers; Charles felt like the world was filled with magic, real and tangible, and he could taste it in every kiss.

His smile dims. 

Pierre was his; he was Pierre's. Hand in lovable hand, as if someone wrote it into the threads of the universe and tied two ends together, so they'd meet halfway. Fall in love, whatever that was. 

A tragedy, that's what it was.

“I wish they knew you,” he whispers, not in anger. He'd let it go like a sky lantern, up to the sky Charles doesn't lift his eyes to no more. “Most of them would've loved you. Though, I think, you'd tire them too quickly by taking photos of literally everything. And with your jokes. But this would be their problem, honestly.”

Jokes. Charles isn't good at them. His attempt at one falls through the cracks in his soul, ones he can't mend. Tears start to fill the empty spaces  instead, overflowing. Charles can't quite wash the salt from his hands anymore.

Time was never enough. They were never enough. He has it all in vivid details, stashed into the abandoned corners of his mind where it's only Pierre Pierre Pierre; all that's left of him secured as long as Charles draws breath. Each of them hurts, lacerates him from the insides, makes him choke on the memories alone, questioning if it's still worth it. 

To find the answers from an endless void of the universe was futile. Even Charles' stubbornness couldn't bend the laws the life abides to.

All the magic gone, all the color, all the laughter; and Pierre's touch remains like a phantom pain, an ache that's ever-present. Not a year gone by, but for Charles it's an eternity of walking several planes of hell. What took Pierre, he doesn't know; why, he doesn't know. He'd screamed enough but no one answered until silence sank its teeth into him, subduing, all fight seeping away from him like sand in the hourglass.

His grief, Charles wouldn't share, keeping it his prized possession. To the outside world, Pierre still subsists. He is out there, he is, and sometimes Charles can feel him, feel his presence just out of reach, out of the corner of his eye. And he talks about Pierre, keeps him alive with what little flame is valiantly smoldering inside. Fools himself with practiced ease, coming up with reasons to why Pierre isn't home yet, why he hasn't gone to sleep next to Charles yet; why he's missing such an important day. 

“Happy Birthday, Calamar,” he wipes his tears, mustering a wobbly smile. Fishes Pierre's beloved cross from underneath his t-shirt and places a kiss on its glimmering shape, then spares another to his fingertips, pressing them to the headstone; into the name etched there forevermore. His lips still taste like the memory of it. “I miss you every day in my heart.”

Charles doesn't see, when he peels himself from the ground, unsteady and off-kilter, like the first time every single time; he doesn't see, as he walks on a narrow cobbled path, counting his steps, knowing exactly how many it takes to get back to the parking lot. A shadow cowering among the trees, slinking behind an angel statue cut from glorious, black marble. Charles never lets himself turn and look back, afraid to unravel at the thought of leaving Pierre again and again where he's tied to a place, the soil as his home.

But if Charles would find it in himself to throw a careless glance, grief-laden and hollowed, he'd spot that shadow dead on, lurking and waiting, a flash of blue tracking Charles' movements; he'd have trouble recognizing him but there would be no doubt. And if he would divert his course back to where one half of his heart is buried, looking into the distorted figure of a shadow, black like a starless sky, staring back at him, an abyss calling out his name.

Then, Charles would feel the goosebumps strewn across his skin, a shiver lingering in his bones.

Then, he would hear a whisper carried by the wind, a rumble of a voice; a knock on his door from the beyond. 

Soon.

Then, a scratch of claws against cold stone; nothing yet set in it. 

Soon I'll crawl back into your arms, cheri.

[kookieswan]

Red Light - Call Out My Name

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, Angsty tbh, some fluff.

Warnings: Delving into the mind of a nightmare, talk of killing and gore. Reminder that this story isn’t all roses and rainbows. Hoseok is morally gray. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: Wanting to finish off your meeting with Hoseok on a good note, you’re not ready for the turn it takes.

Notes: This takes place directly after ‘Playing with Madness’. I hope this is okay! I realize there’s a lot of sitting and talking, but it’s really the heart of what builds their relationship up! Thank you for all your support as well lovelies, I really appreciate it! ♥️

This is the 8th part of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did Yoongi tell you about his plan to break some of the nightmares out?” The Nightmare still looks more than displeased, but sits down in the chair situated in front of the barrier between you. Crossing his arms, you note that his wings seem to relax slowly as he continues to stare at you. The dents in his cell aren’t the only reminder of his anger though.

“Are these really the questions you want to be asking right now? Something tells me you have other things on your mind.” His tone is flat, face void of any emotion as he says it. It surprises you slightly since he’s always teasing to a degree… Williams had clearly caused a rift in that, but that’s one think you keep out of your notes as you scribble some down.

You need the answers as badly as you don’t want to ask, or a else you’ll likely get an obscene amount of shit for not getting them. Sighing quietly, you try your best to give him a sincere smile. You don’t want to waste his time with these dumb questions, no, but….

“Please answer Hoseok, it’ll make both of lives easier if you do.” The Nightmare blinks once, twice, and then huffs a humorless chuckle before leaning forward, elbows on his knees. His wings are completely down, almost drooping, but they twitch every now and then in what must be annoyance.

“… No, I had no clue Yoongi was going to go rouge and massacre a good portion of the guards down here. Am I surprised he did it? Also no, he likes to cause mischief ‘for funsies’.” Funsies…? Honestly, it sounds like Yoongi from what you’ve observed so far. The Nightmare is a perfect combinations of unhinged pleasantries and false reassurance. The answer is good enough, so good you decide to change the subject with a final line of writing since Hoseok still looks grumpy.

“Okay… Changing the topic slightly. How did fighting the Nightmare make you feel, the one that assaulted us?” The man breathes in deeply before tipping himself back, effectively tearing his eyes away from you and looking toward the ceiling for what seems like the first time. You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for a response, not quite sure of what to make of his soured mood, or even how to approach it.

“Fighting it? Well, that was fun. I haven’t got to test my hand in a while… Gutting it after it touched you like that? Nearly euphoric.” His voice drops down to a near whisper, and it unnerves you as a near snarl follows. Usually when you’re around, his attention is apt, eyes on you, almost warm, but now…

“Were you hurt at all? Physically?” Leaning forward, you try your best to show that you genuinely wish to know. Is it a question that you need to ask? No, but you want to make sure that he’s okay since he’s so bothered. You don’t know much about how nightmares heal physically or about their general endurance, so.

“A few scratches here and there, nothing that didn’t heal quickly, Nightmares don’t need much down time to recuperate. Why, were you worried about me dear Doctor?” Perhaps you’re too readable at this point, but then again, it’s human nature to worry for others. Giving him a small smile, just barely a curve of your lips, you nod.

“Yes, I was worried about you.” Hoseok’s eyes snap forward, wide and unblinking. Tapping your pen against your notes, you shrug your shoulders lightly in response.

“I didn’t see the extent of the damage you took since they swept you away so quickly. I’m glad you’re not terribly injured.” He was gone before you could even ask questions, the guards having wrangled him away like the monster they think he is. With all the blood, it was hard to tell who’s was who’s.

“What about mentally? Do you feel like it has affected you negatively in any way? Lingering worries or thoughts?” Eyes narrowing a bit, you just barely notice the way his jaw clenched, how his nostrils flare at your words. Another blink and it’s gone, controlled by the pretty mask he chooses to wear so often.

“There’s nothing to worry about. There was a problem and I solved it, so I won’t linger on what might have played out differently or my actions, Doctor.” A well thought out answer, calculated as he says it slowly back to you. Still, you can’t help but to let a bit more, wishing for nothing more than a deeper look into this Nightmare’s mind.

“It doesn’t bother you that you killed the Nightmare? From what I could tell, there was quite a bit of carnage left behind.” Based on what you’ve managed to collect through research, violence doesn’t typically negatively affect Nightmares. If anything, it spurs them on even more, makes them mindless and bloodthirsty. Even knowing all that, Hoseok had taken the time to check on you, not a trace of madness left behind.

“What bothered me is that it tried to hurt you, that it put its hands on you. Filthy thing didn’t know it’s place, so I put it there. Is it a pity I had to take out one of my own kind? Perhaps, but it needed to be done. I didn’t see any guards trying to help you.” It’s surprisingly honest, and he doesn’t sound mad even, just level. You didn’t see a single guard either, not a single person to lead you to safety, so his point isn’t null.

“Point taken… I suppose I never did say it, so thank you for escorting me to safety Hoseok. I appreciate it.” It’s the truth, even if you were shocked for a solid few hours after it happened. He fought for you, killed someone for you, and as terrifying as that is… It’s also strangely endearing in a way you know it shouldn’t be.

It remains quiet as you jot down a few more notes, finding it surprisingly easy to leave some of the information out. In your expert opinion (because you can say that now thank you very much) it’s in the Nighmares best interests if you leave out some of the deeper things from the doctors down here.

“May I ask you a question?” Dotting off your last set even, you glance back toward Hoseok with raised brows. Humming a bit, you sit back and recross your legs, gesturing for him to go for it. Why not, you’re already allowing for things to slide you likely shouldn’t.

“It seems to be a trend of yours, so sure.” He cracks a smile at that, one that slowly turns into a grin as he stands from his seat, more of the black markings on his chest peeking out from between the zipper of his suit. The Nightmare steps closer, allowing his shadow to fall over your body.

“Were you scared? Worried that you’d be ripped to shreds?” Playing again, but it can’t hurt to indulge him like this every once in a while. Especially if it’ll get him to keep talking to you without issue.

“Yes… and no. Sure, the Nightmare was likely going to kill me but…” Likely isn’t even the right word. You know for a fact that the Nightmare was looking forward to ripping your throat out. Hoseok leans against the wall, forehead nearly touching as he stares down at you intently.

“But…?” It hangs in the air as you try to formulate what you need to say. It needs to be careful, can’t give away too much. That wouldn’t be a good idea with him.

“You were there, and you promised to keep me safe.” You realize how silly it sounds as soon as it leaves your mouth, but it’s true. The only thing that kept you even remotely calm was the fact that Hoseok was there to deescalate the situation… Even if it was in a way you don’t even remotely agree with.

“And I’ve decided I will continue to keep you safe, Doctor. You need me, and I’ll be there. Just call out my name, these walls are thin enough for me to hear.” Call out…? His voice is deep, bordering on what you must be mistaking for sultry, and it’s enough to make you pause. The thought of calling out to him, for him…

“My, my, you look flustered Doctor. Was it something I said?” Pursing your lips, you remain quiet as you start to wrap up your notes, finalizing everything you’ll be submitting for the rest of the doctor to read though. You’re starting to understand why some of the previous psychologists left… or disappeared. You however, are intrigued.

“How much would you squirm if I told you that you look beautiful today? Red really is your color…” Usually wearing neutral colors, you didn’t quite expect for a pop of color to get such a different reaction. You guessed it might draw some attention, but not positive and not from Hoseok of all people. Gathering your materials hastily, you pointedly don’t look him in the eye as he continues to grin salaciously at you, all pearly teeth as he runs his questionably long tongue over them.

“Okay, that’s all for today Hoseok! I have a meeting in about ten minutes I can’t miss. Thank you for your time, and as always, feel free to ask for me before our next appointment if need be.” He watches you stand and retreat, body nearly flushed to the only thing that separates you. Glancing back one more time before exiting, the last think you see before the door slams shut are his extended wings.

“Until then, dearest Doctor…”

[lheautontimoroumenos]

more thoughts on jackie,shauna .

oooh now you're asking for trouble anon. this is kinda wide so i'll swing wide (this starts and end with codependency though) and go with no plan. if you want something specific pls send another ask.

so. jackie. shauna. or rather jackieshauna. no space between them right? (that's probably the only thing that makes me accept this as the ship name instead of shaunackie).

(i have to put a read more because this is long as fuck believe me)

we know shauna and jackie have been friends for years, probably since they got into school.

we didn't get to see much about jackie's parents when she was still a kid but jackie doesn't seem to hold her mom or her dad in her heart. and yet when she's gone it seems all they can talk about is her.

they're a mirror of shauna's reaction in that they can't seem to let go. even if they probably didn't tell her they loved her, or said it but didn't show it in a way that jackie could receive it (or maybe jackie's mom was too worried about her valium problems), they have to fill the void. they have to believe she'll come back and everything will be the same. that's why her room is left untouched, that's why they make her gifts that she wouldn't even have liked when they celebrate her birthday every year with a picture from when she was 17.

and shauna can't bear to go see them, she suffers every year at jackie's birthday, first because of the guilt she still has regarding jackie's death, and then because she has to go to the taylor's house. they show her just what she's been doing this whole time.

in 101, shauna masturbates while looking at her daughter's boyfriend's picture because she's stuck in the past. in her world jackie's still alive, and in a way callie is jackie to her. because she's a part of jeff and jeff was a part of jackie (which is why shauna went after him). and in this scene, callie's boyfriend is jeff in shauna's head, even unconsciously (interesting to note that callie ends up dumping him and makes you think about what could have been).

and at the end of the episode, where her control kind of slipped because of the "journalist" looking into her past, she immediately went to read her journals. and not the end of it, when jackie's gone, but the very beginning, right after the crash. and not any part either, but the part where she shares and doubts jackie's hopeful sentiment. they have to find us right? they're gonna go get us? why haven't they found us?

so she's right back in it, really she never left. when nat dies, young nat tells her she never even left the plane, lottie says they brought "it" back with them, but there was no "it", "it" was just us. they brought themselves back, teenage them that was still happy and fine (none of them were fine).

so shauna's back in new jersey, she brought her teenage self back, and with her, teenage jackie. jackie's still here with her all the time, in her journals and her hallucinations and in jackie's parents house. because they're a single being, a unit. they're inseparable, a bit of jackie is part of shauna, she ate her, jackie kept shauna alive and now shauna's keeping jackie alive.

and if she's teenage shauna then she's fine, right? she doesn’t have a single problem. but she also feels guilty all the time. if jackie's alive and shauna's married to jeff then she's just betraying her again and again. and callie is the walking talking manifestation of that. she's both the proof that jackie's alive and dead. that she's still there all the time but gone forever. exhibit: callie in jackie's uniform. (and she falls back in her pattern of lying and hiding things in her affair with adam, that starts because of jeff in shauna's mind, the same way she slept with jeff because of jackie).

and honestly? she can make people believe she's fine as long as jackie stays in her. as long as jackie's hers really. but as soon as she's torn away from her insides, jackie becomes dangerous, she hurts and she tears something away from shauna, she takes her away from herself. when she's dating jeff she alienates shauna from herself. when she's put in front of jackie at her birthday she drops her filter, she says she doesn't even like callie (but she can't help loving her), when callie wears jackie's uniform at the party shauna's forced to open up and in spite of her efforts the façade falls.

if jackie isn't hers and hers only then shauna's falling apart. codependency at its finest and at its worst.

and it's not like jackie exempt of that either, we just get less time to see it. but shauna throws it all in her face when they fight in 110, she made her play soccer so they'd stay together, she tells her what to wear so that shauna will stay hers in a way, she assumes shauna's going to rutgers with her and that they'll be best friends forever and that nothing will ever go wrong because her life is perfect (not touching on heteronormativity here but it sure is present imo). she feels left out as soon as shauna starts hanging out with tai in the wilderness, she doesn't want anything to do with the thing that's taking shauna away from her and into the group's good graces (her butchering skills).

that's, I think, the fundamental difference in the way they deal with their codependency. shauna runs toward what's breaking it because she thinks that looking at it up close will either make it disappear or will spontaneously provide a solution to her problem (exhibit: fucking jeff, going to jackie's room at the taylor's, opening up to callie at the party). she grasps blindly at the last of what she thought was a constant in her life, she tries to keep the control and often ends up making things worse (though if holding on fails, shauna's solution is to kill and destroy so she can keep this control).

whereas jackie runs away from it. she keeps an order about things and the relationship but if it looks like it's about to blow then she's gone (exhibit: leaving the cabin after the fight, going buddy buddy with mari at the lake when she feels shauna pulling away from her, not investing herself in any "useful" activity at the camp). where shauna tries hard as she can to hold on to what is slipping away, jackie just lets it go.

they're like deers that get too close to each other and get their antlers tangled (i think there's a poem about this that i'll try to find) and caught in each other and trying to pull away just ends up killing them. it's not that they got too close for comfort, it's that they got so close, getting away from each other even for an inch or a second would kill them. they couldn't live without each other.

but they also got so close they couldn't see each other as a whole. they have to take each other at face value because it's all they can see at this point. jackie died because she couldn't live without the image she made of shauna in her head, the image of an even younger shauna that followed jackie around without a care in the world because this jackie was hers, and hers only.

and shauna is still alive, only because she carries with her an image of a teenage jackie that both forgave her (which allows her to keep carrying jackie with her) and holds her accountable (being cruel though honest justifies shauna's outburst during the fight, if jackie was mean to her then she kind of deserved it right?) which in turn absolves shauna.

they couldn't keep living together the way they were so they had to tear themselves away from each other.

yet even physically apart, there is no way to think one without feeling the other.

[yoongsisbae]

Just read yoongi superhero verse again and suddenly wondering about y/n & jin closet story… can you elaborate a bit more about it? I think it is just hilarious 😅

Anw, new masterlist looking real good 👌🏻

The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet

Drabble-extended scene for Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Super!Jin x reader.

Why yes, I can elaborate. Honestly, luv y/n but Jin is the real victim in this story having to put up with y/n's chaotic thoughts all night lol... Also thank you!! 🥰 Finding the right header pictures to highlight the ahem 🍆 subject matter of the stories was a fun challenge 😋

Warnings: this is just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts, it goes there...chaotic, slightest mention of family abuse just for context.

---

“But we’re the most powerful and you know it, Weather Man. Plus, I deserve compensation for being partnered with Jin last night.”

Hoseok scoffs, unable to hold in his laughter. “Oh really? I heard it was the other way around, that you spent most of the night thinking about ghosts to scare Jin,” he shivers.

“Jin started it,” you mutter, unable to tell Hoseok being in a confined space with the mind reader, who spent the night teasingly pressed up against you had sent your mind straight into the gutter, much to Jin’s utter amusement. So you decided to amuse yourself as well.

---

Jungkook holds your body steady as you acclimate to your new surroundings and you thank the teleporter by placing both of your hands around his neck, shaking him back and forth. “Did I not specifically tell you to warn me if you hop me somewhere,” you hiss, tightening your grip on his throat. “Is that too much to ask?!”

“S-Some h-help?!” Jungkook wheezes, letting you jerk him around like a rag doll, hoping you’ll stop before he loses consciousness.

‘Shhh!’ Seokjin steps behind you, covering your mouth before you can scream all the ways you’re going to make Jungkook regret teleporting you away from your awaiting bath.

Jin lands his other hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and everything is plunged into pitch black darkness, even darker than it was before, your surroundings so void of any light you feel like you have been momentarily lifted out of the confines of your physical form. Your hand is in front of you but you can’t tell how far and you can’t grasp onto or feel anything.

‘Everyone stop. Calm down. You’re going to blow my cover goddammit.’

‘Turn on the lights!’ you yell in your mind, and perhaps it’s just your imagination, but it feels like an echo spoken in a dark chasm. It makes you feel like you’re falling and spinning all at once. You reach out to your sides to steady yourself and feel softness, the “walls” moving away as you reach your digits out, causing another dizzying sensation.

Jungkook, or who you think is Jungkook, moves closer and your bodies stumble against one another. The warmth of the two men pressed against you grounds you only slightly in the void.

‘It’s not actually dark.’ Seokjin’s voice echoes in your mind. ‘I just made you think it’s dark. It’s complicated...a mind thing, you know.’

‘No, I don’t know,’ you retort back annoyed, but you can’t help the panic inside you rise. If you could only just feel the light switch, but you don't feel anything but Jungkook and Jin and your own heartbeat pounding in your chest and eardrums.

You hear a small tiny whimper from who you assume is Jungkook again and everything comes back into focus, a small halo of light coming from a door you didn’t notice before, the very dimmed screen of Seokjin’s cell lights up your faces, and you notice clothes on either side of you. The three of you were in a closet. ‘Why did Jungkook hop you here?’

“I asked him to. I got it from here, JK.” Jin whispers.

“You owe me,” Jungkook growls lowly, clearly agitated, dematerializing quickly before you can grab him again. You whip your body around to face the mind reader.

He holds his hands up in surrender and then places his pointer finger to his mouth to remind you to be silent. ‘Okay okay, before you blow up the place, I need to tell you that we’re here on a mission-’

“What! ‘Mission’!” You glare.

‘Collection.’ You’re familiar with the code word, untensing your body, knowing you won’t have to fight tonight. ‘You’re here in case anything goes wrong. You know, brain-’ he gestures to himself, ‘-brawn,’ he finishes, gesturing to you.

You look at him stunned. The audacity of this man! you think knowing full-well Jin hears you. Really? Really?!

You close your eyes to calm yourself and hold up your fist, exhaling slowly.

Silently flicking your pointer finger out you cause Seokjin to fly backwards as you glare at him.

You point down and his body lands forward roughly on the closet floor.

Seokjin grunts, failing at lifting himself up. ‘You’re obviously smart too. I didn’t mean it that way! I was just thinking of our talents! And you’re proving me right you know. See how strong you are!’ Seokjin flails on the ground like a pinned bug until you’re satisfied.

‘You know, you tend to overreact about things,’ Seokjin grunts. ‘It might be a side effect of your powers...we all have them. I recommend meditation, I could help you with that...’ Seokjin can’t even lift his head, the gravity around him feels heavy...crushing, as if his weight has quadrupled. He heaves out air, finding it difficult to breathe. ‘C’mon, it was a joke, y/n! And we do make a good team, don’t you think? Remember when we made that housing commissioner cry?’ he laughs to himself while his body remains sprawled at your feet, his ridiculous giggling echoing in your mind as well.

‘How long do I have to be here?’ you scoff, releasing your telekinetic hold on him and rolling your eyes as the mind reader gasps for air, rolling onto his back.

‘Until I get some good intel, which shouldn’t be too long, this woman’s mind isn’t exactly a deep breadth of knowledge. But their daughter, teenager, rebellious spirit, doesn’t like how mommy and daddy dearest controls her life. Could pull some interesting stuff.’

‘Which one this time?’

‘Fourth District.’

‘....the one whose brother-in-law literally owns a private real estate company? That’s who he’s trying to flip?’

‘And that’s why we are here!’ He pushes you towards the coats.

You sigh and swing your arms and part the rack of hangers in a dramatic fashion, imaging this was how Moses felt when he parted the sea. You weren’t exactly giving salvation, but perhaps your actions would eventually save lives, you hope so...at least to make this night worth it. Jin joins you, fully hidden with you as you move the clothes back in place.

‘I miss when we just stole their shit,’ you think, sighing. ‘This is boooring.’

‘Grand larceny was fun, but we gotta evolve, right?’ Jin's voice evades your mind. ‘If the structures of the human mind remain unchanged, we will always end up re-creating the same world, the same evils, the same dysfunction-’

“Tolle...Evolve or die...” you murmur. “Can’t there be a third option? What about evolve, die, or just chill for awhile?”

“This is pretty chill, no?” Jin turns his head to you, winking. You snort.

With Seokjin’s shoulder against your own and jackets all around you this mission feels like you’re playing a game of Five Minutes in Heaven. You start to feel awkward realizing the mind reader’s close proximity to you. Due to his power Jin is the one you avoid the most, even if you do find him the most attractive out of the group.

��You okay?” Seokjin asks, a teasing lilt to his voice that makes you aware he was listening in on your thoughts.

You send him a side-eyed glare. “Shouldn’t you be paying attention to your targets, and not me,” you accuse.

Seokjin only smirks and goddammit all you can think is, ‘Sexy.’

---

“You look nice.”

“I’m in a bath robe, Jin,” you scoff, pulling your fuzzy robe tighter around your body.

“I know, it looks nice on you,” he mutters, his voice gruffer than usual. You try not to pay attention to the way his eyes scan down your body, keeping your thoughts away from the fact that you had forgone your bra and panties.

You narrow your eyes on him, the shadows of his features more easily readable now that your eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness. Jin stares back with a meek smile, not giving anything away to your frustration. What does he know...

It’s unnerving you how everything you think about Jin can hear...see...might even feel...you’ve always been too embarrassed to ask any details on the extent of his powers, and the mind reader just loves to cherry pick which thoughts of yours to respond to.

You swallow, wondering if he was getting as hot and bothered as you were. “Can you give me a heads up next time?” you mutter, annoyed. “So I can dress for the occasion.” You look over at his black turtleneck, dark jacket and pants. His shoulders look so defined, you resist the urge to reach out and feel the muscles of his triceps.

“We are in a closet full of clothes,” he whispers.

He’s staring right at your chest when he says it. You would call him out for it if you were not just eyeing his chest just moments ago, more annoyed by the fact that he could so easily look into your mind and know exactly the affect his gaze was having on you.

“You think about me a lot, huh?”

“Only because you’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

‘Hottest,’ ‘hot hot,’ is he thinking it or are you? you think, mortified.

Jin grins, looking past you and focusing on the task at hand.

---

‘...Why is your hand there!’ you yell the question in your head, making the mind reader jump and subsequently squeeze your left ass cheek tighter.

‘Where else am I supposed to put it? My hand was falling asleep holding onto the railing,’ Seokjin’s whiny voice permeates your mind.

‘Jin, this closet is bigger than my bathroom! Just...move over!’ You glare at him, yet his words rematerialize in your mind, ‘Where else am I supposed to put it?’ and now all you can wonder about is the length and shape of his dick.

Seokjin snickers.

Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking-

It doesn’t help, like it hasn’t helped for the past two hours. All you can think about is Jin’s body, wondering if he has abs, how wide his back is, just how much muscle is hidden under the layers of the conservative clothes he likes to wear. You curse your curiosity, there’s just so many Jin-centric questions sprouting like wildflowers in your mind, covering every crevice of your brain, a garden of madness you can’t stop watering.

Your mouth is watering.

You clench your fists, focusing on the pain. Jin doesn't seem to like that, at least you think so? Ugh!

For two whole hours the mind reader in question hasn’t acknowledged your slow downward descent into the gutters inside the pits of the second circle of your own personal hell. Apart from one hand placement that he so easily excused away, the advantage of his unreadable thoughts agitating you to no end.

“You could just ask me what you want to know.” The heat of Seokjin’s breath against your ear makes goosebumps bloom over your shoulders.

“I don’t want to know!” you hiss.

“Sure.”

Ugh. It's so easy for him to say that, his thoughts are not exposed like yours...you feel so exposed, naked...

Great, now he probably knows what you look like naked. At least what you think you look like naked. Oh god.

STOP THINKING!

“Like I said, meditation would work wonders-”

“Found anything out?” you change the subject.

Jin sighs, his cheeky demeanor dimming slightly, “Yeah...” focusing back on his targets.

“What is it?”

Jin looks up abruptly, ‘Move back!’ he pushes you deeper into the closet, moving quickly until you’re both in the farthest corner, concealed by shirts and pants.

The closet door swings open and the light clicks on. Seokjin covers you with his body, his dark clothes providing the perfect cover.

‘Was this really necessary?’ you swallow, staring directly at his neck, Jin’s adam’s apple moving as he swallows as well.

He’s closer than ever now. You can smell his aftershave. Goddammit, this does not make you a creep, you defend yourself in your thoughts.

Hangers click together as someone rummages through the dresses.

“Honey, what are you doing?” a sickly sweet call comes from the mother.

“Borrowing your dress, mom!” she yells back.

“Well sweetheart, you have your own dresses, don’t you?” The way she enunciates ‘sweetheart’ is dripping with condescension, even you could notice the disdain.

But her daughter doesn’t want to wear another frilly ugly infantile atrocity her parents make her wear when they are out in public as a family, a costume portrayal of ‘the perfect family.’

Tonight she was going out with her friends and could be herself. She looks through the dozens of dresses her mother still keeps and cannot fit into, still clinging to her youth. “You’re not going to miss it, I promise...bitch,” she says under her breath.

‘Our Nation’s future,’ you think.

‘Her mom is a bitch though.’

‘Oh. Spill the tea.’ Anything to not think about his crotch pressed against yours.

‘I don’t want to tell you. Like I thought, you tend to overreact...not that I think it would be an overreaction...but, there’s other ways to make them pay.’

‘And so Tae can also get what he wants, I presume.’

You watch Seokjin’s brow furrow, his eyes darting left and right, and up and down, like he’s reading through invisible book, his jaw clenching every once in awhile. You wonder what ‘it’ looks like; a mind, inwardly cringing at what your mind must look like to him.

Jin was working through the troubled mind of a teenage girl. Nights partying with tablets to forget her childhood, parties like the one she was going to tonight. He is more concerned with other parties, the ones her parents frequent. But gossip only goes so far, physical evidence is what Jin was searching for, things that were under lock and key, encryptions, passwords, where might those be...

The lights go off again as she finds a dress she likes. Jin pulls out his phone, contacting the tech talker, sending him a couple key words and a heads up on where to start his online search. If there was any evidence left, Yoongi would most definitely find it, but parties like that operated on anonymity...unless Seokjin can find out when and where the next rendezvous might occur. It's the holiday season after all, get togethers were bound to happen. The elite loved their seasons tidings and their debauchery. He focused on the mother-

“Everything okay?” you whisper.

“Of course,” he looks down at you, a charming smile disarming you even further. You wonder what secrets this man has...

“I’m pretty much an open book.”

“Yeah right.”

---

“Y/n.”

By now you’re feeling the stuffiness of the confined space, the heat of Seokjin’s body pressed up against yours, still cornered by him.

“Hmm?” you look up, thinking he was ready to leave now.

“Do you want to fuck or are you going to spend all night thinking about fucking me?”

“S-Stop looking into my thoughts!”

“Well, you’re getting...louder. I’m flattered you think I can do all that, though! We could try out that split thing you were-”

How are you going to explain to Tae that you had to murder his friend over dick?

“Whoa, whoa, let’s not think about that!”

Too late. You were definitely imagining murdering Kim Seokjin. Except you were also thinking about fucking Kim Seokjin, thoughts twisting into a deranged scene where you were cock-riding him Gone Girl style. Oh god what is wrong with you?

Seokjin snorts. Now you just want to die.

And then he kisses you, silencing your thoughts completely.

“You...”

He keeps his hand on your chin. “Meditation. It’s helped Hobi. Unless you want to...?” He licks his lips. ‘...without the knifing part please.’

“Just collect,” you stutter.

Seokjin grins, you’ll warm up eventually.

---

Your joints ache, you roll your neck, rubbing your muscles and taking away the pain.

Seokjin cracks his back, sighing.

‘Turn around.’

Seokjin does as you think. You drag your hands across his back, your powers taking away the stiffness in his body and warming his joints up.

“60 cm,” he answers your thoughts, smirking. You roll your eyes. That can’t be the width of his shoulders, can it?

Jin doesn’t answer you.

You wonder what his power feels like, but because you don’t really ask him, Jin doesn’t answer you. You’re going to have to be braver to get answers like that from the mind reader.

Ugh why does he have to smell so nice? What is that, pine? It reminds you of...Joon.

You wonder what Namjoon is doing right now, it’s late, he’s either out, stopping another criminal, or at home, in those gray sweatpants...

Seokjin clears his throat. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and leaning on clothes. ‘How much longer?’

‘Until they fall asleep, I guess.’ Jin sits down on the ground, stretching his legs. ‘Come here,’ he holds out his hand for you, opening and closing his fist cutely. You roll your eyes again, but comply, using him as a chair, sandwiched between the wall and clothes.

Seokjin massages your shoulders. ‘Feels good,’ you sigh.

‘It feels better when someone else does it for you, doesn’t it? Can’t do that cool trick you do, though.’

You lean against him when he stops. You could probably fall asleep like this. You’re tired, and a bit sad now that your thoughts drifted to Joon. Christmas is coming up, maybe you should go visit him, offer him an olive branch in the spirit of Christmas. Has he found someone else to keep him company for the season? It pains you to think about it, but it hurts you more to think of him all alone in his big apartment when you used to spend the holidays together, getting drunk and karaoking Christmas carols. Has he even put up his tree yet? You were the one who always reminded him to do it...

When did you start playing with Jin’s fingers? He interlaces them together when you notice.

“So you think I’m hotter than Tae, huh?”

‘Cocky bastard.’

“Should you really start thinking about cocks again?”

Just when you were starting to enjoy his company...you should have known this was too good to be true...

“Aww, c’mon! I’m only teasing. You make it so easy to get under your skin.” His arms that had been conveniently placed around your waist slowly inch under the slit in your robe.

‘Don’t even think about it, Kim.”

“You’re thinking about it enough for the both of us. If I didn’t know better I would think you enjoy showing me all your naughty fantasies.”

‘They are not fantasies! Intrusive thoughts, that’s all, dammit! And you are an intruder!’

“Technically, you are also an intruder here too. But you know, the others are fully aware of my capabilities and no one else’s mind turns into the karma sutra.”

Ugh! You’re thinking maybe you should just fuck Jin so you’ll finally stop thinking about fucking him.

“I think that’s a great idea!”

‘Pfft.’ The real thing can’t be that great.

Seokjin laughs at you, as if to say, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.

‘We’re not fucking on a mission.’

“But that would be so hot and you know it.”

Nope. No. Nah. No no no no. Lalalalalalala.

Oh god the singing, this was Seokjin’s least favorite means of deflection.

‘LALALALALALALALA.’

‘Oh Jin, please fuck me with your thick fat cock!’

You freeze. That was your voice randomly popping up in your head moaning out his name. ‘You planted that in my head.’

“Hmmm I’m pretty sure you thought that before, I think.”

It is late, you still want to take a bath, and Seokjin has officially gotten on your last nerve. You yell at him in your head to get Jungkook to hop you home right now!

He adjusts your position in his lap. “No can do. He won’t be back until sunrise.”

You imagine blasting a hole through the roof.

“...fucking is still on the table.”

You imagine fucking Seokjin on a table….dammit!

“…or on the floor.” Seokjin eggs you on.

‘Lalalalalalala.’ Imaginary Seokjin is equally as aggravating, thrusting into you on tempo.

Can’t you think of ANYTHING else?!

You were supposed to be relaxing in a bubble bath, dammit! Bubbles, shaving your legs, face masks, think unsexy things, y/n!

Hot chocolate, that new horror holiday movie on Netflix, the one with the ghosts-

Jin stiffens next to you, and for some reason all moaning ringing in your consciousness is muted into silence.

A veiny withered gangrene hand appearing from the darkness in the closet’s corner, knuckles cracking, the tips of its long yellow nails dripping with blood as it reaches out closer towards you and Seokjin.

You focused on that thought, imagining each deathly looking digit clearly in your mind-

Seokjin flinches, head hitting the back of closet wall.

“You’re scared?”

“No!” Jin hisses. He frowns at the way your eyes twinkle mischievously.

You imagine a long haired white robed woman sitting next to you and Jin. Jin shudders, hands tightening around you, hiding his head behind your shoulder.

‘Y/n!’ Jin yells your name in your mind, eyes tightly shut, not helping in hiding your louder than life thoughts.

“What.”

‘I need to be able to concentrate!’

‘Oh but you were perfectly fine with all the sex! Stay out of my head and you won’t have to worry-’

‘Your thoughts are loud, y/n,’ Jin accuses you.

‘THEN LET ME GO HOME.’ Maybe you should quiet down, you could feel both yours and Jin’s heartbeats pumping unusually fast despite not having moved, huddled in the corner together.

His hands are still in your robe, skin to skin contact. You’re not turned on, you’re not! Zombies, ghouls, that one creepy kid with the black eyes-

‘Stop!’ Jin jumps, squeezing you, a hand conveniently cupped tight around your breast.

Your thighs clench together. Fuck...‘You first!’

You’re both breathing fast.

‘...okay maybe I have been planting some thoughts here and there.’

...oh.

An imaginary demon screeches and zooms around your heads.

Seokjin almost screams.

You snicker.

‘You’re so cruel,’ Seokjin whines.

‘I must be cruel, only to be kind.’

‘Didn’t he fuck his mother?’

‘That was Oedipus, Hamlet just murders everyone.’

‘Oh right.’

You think about a skull, dripping with blood, chattering away in your ears instead of naked Shakespearean actors.

Seokjin jolts against your back. ‘No more!’

You giggle deviously. Four more hours until dawn just seems like not enough time alone with Jin.

[mystery-moose]

Someone in my life posed some interesting questions about stories recently! In considering them I figured I'd keep a record of my thoughts here on my tumblr web log, because what void should I holler into if not this one?

First, how I think about stories. I try to avoid thinking about them as morality plays or parables (mostly because this can keep me from engaging with challenging art) but I also don't like thinking about them purely as escapism. Each story has a reason it exists, whether that's entertainment, communication, or contemplation. They're designed to draw out our empathy, communicate a feeling, create a mood. Sometimes that's in service of something important to the author. Other times, it's something meant to distract. I don't judge a story based on its pretensions, or on its naked commercialism -- I try to judge based on its execution, how it's doing what it's doing, and how well it succeeds. There are great artists right now working solely with other people's licenses, doing work-for-hire gigs, and their skills are just as worthy of praise and appreciation as the latest semi-original high-concept novel hanging in the middle of the New York Times bestseller list.

Basically, I think about stories like stories! Or, if I absolutely have to be metaphorical, like buildings. Are the foundations strong? Is it doing anything special? Can I navigate it easily? How accessible is it? That last matters a lot to me, because it doesn't matter how cool the interior is if most people can't find their way inside.

Second, what do I need a story to do to recommend it to someone else? I'm gonna go with "accessibility" at the top, not in the disability sense but the populist one. Yeah, playing to the cheap seats can hurt a story a lot, and you obviously can't please everyone, but ignoring your audience doesn't make me appreciate your story much myself, let alone get me to recommend it to anyone else. You have to find a balance where what you're communicating isn't absolute nonsense to most of your audience. Not all! Just most. Effective communication of your thoughts, feelings, and ideas to a layman is something I think a lot of storytellers could stand to care about more when it comes to honing their craft, and that goes for folks outside of the arts especially. So if I find a story with a big concept, beautiful craft, intense emotion, and it's not too esoteric or inaccessibly written? That's great art in my book, and I'll tell everyone about it.

Next, what do I look for in stories? Now that is a tough one... I guess, beyond sheer execution (if your prose is good enough you can take me almost anywhere) I look for something that makes me care about its characters as it introduces me to their world, and does so without me feeling like I'm being told why I should care about the characters or what their world is like. This goes for everything from period pieces to stories set in places or communities I'm unfamiliar with, just as much as it goes for fantasy or science-fiction. I do generally have to care about the characters in a piece to really devote a significant amount of time to a story, though. If I don't, the other elements of the work (craft, originality, feeling) have to carry a whole lot more of the weight in order to get me to finish something.

What are red flags for me? Honestly, a big one is feeling either preached or condescended to. Even if it's politics or perspectives I agree with, if I feel like I'm being told what to think rather than thinking it on my own, or if I simply think the author doesn't trust me to understand what they're trying to say? I check out. Beyond that, when a story excuses terrible behavior in the interests of forcing me to sympathize with a character the author clearly favors, I also check out. There's other stuff too -- I don't much care for certain tropes when they feel obvious or sufficiently undisguised (at least try to put some kind of spin on it!) -- but those are the big ones I think. If I see those, my desire to continue drops real sharp.

A recent example of a story I really loved, because I try to stay positive: earlier this year I finished a book called A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine, which almost instantly became one of my favorite stories. I had to sit with my feelings for days before I really settled on that, too! I worry about recency bias sometimes, that an impact will dull with time, but Empire has lived in my head since I read it. It's a well-told and compelling yarn that dips into a number of my favorite genres (science-fiction, murder-mystery, political intrigue, thriller) told from one of my favorite POVs (first-person) that also happens to dig into concepts that I find super cool and interesting! Things like history, how it's recorded, who makes it, what matters versus what historians only think matters. Things like the colonialism, cultural imperialism, and the politics of empire -- the pressure of being a small community being subsumed by a larger, more dominant one, the complicated nature of being a person from two worlds, whether by choice or by birth, and so on. It's got a lot of thoughts about that stuff, and it can't touch on all of them with the depth that they deserve, but it knows enough to know there's no easy answer for a lot of its questions, and it manages to make that feel like a natural conclusion rather than a copout. A great novel, and one I recommend to most everyone I know!

One I'm still in the middle of that I need to get back to: Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun. That's a work that I think is a bit inaccessible, with characters that I don't necessarily love (the protagonist is a professional torturer, if that tells you anything) but the sheer craft on display... my god. There are whole sections I've read, passages that describe a feeling that I've had before but never put to words, and it expresses them so effectively and with such excellent language that it carries me forward on those passages even when I'm unsure what this person's quest is or whether or not I even like them. And that's to say nothing of the depth of the text itself -- Ursula K. Le Guin famously called Gene Wolfe genre fiction's Herman Melville, and that's been borne out in what I've read so far. I've been listening to the Shelved by Genre podcast as I've been reading the book, and their own insights and analysis illuminate whole sections of the text that I would never have noticed otherwise, or would have without knowing exactly why! Awesome stuff.

[lovebvni]

Hi abyss! My friends call me shiv so i'll go by that! I honestly just stumbled upon your account twice today and i love the readings you do! I hope i can get one too! (bless your soul for doing this in the first place and that too for free)

So honestly i have been trying to tap in the void state and manifest my dream life for a while now but i feel like i am very close so instead of asking just a purely void related question i'll ask messages i need to hear right now? maybe in terms of void or not, your call entirely!

I am so excited to read your response (if and when you do respond haha)

I totally understand if you can't! Hope you are having a lovely day! Sending so much love x

Hi, Shiv!! ur name makes me think of pirates n shiver me timbers 😭😭‼️ idk its js silly!! im happy to answer ur question!! i totally get wanting advice during the point between finally reaching ur goal and where u are now. hell, that’s where i am rn!! i’ll do my best to get messages to help u get into the void, as that seems to b ur main concern rn.

Void State Advice/Messages

“literally just be”

this is similar to some advice my friend nile gave me from the universe. just be in the moment. tune out all of the day, all the noise of it, the negativity and the fears and worries. all of it. just let ur moment be with you and connecting to the void within yourself.

close ur eyes, take a deep breath, feel it all fall away. psych k method (i hope im spelling that right!!) comes to mind + the colour pink.

i’m also getting, even while just entering the void, begin to manifest. like don’t even care/recognize where u are. understand u are the void and it’s inside you, so you can get what you want by just sitting down for 10 minutes and deciding u want it.

“it’s so entertaining”

do something to entertain urself before/as you’re in the void, just to keep ur consciousness awake. this will help u a bit

idk why this feels important, but ‘death of a hero’ by alec benjamin came on. it’s about witnessing something u shouldn’t have as a child. he then begins breaking down because someone who he once saw as an inspiration wasn’t as great as a person as he once thought. this is so sad n im sorry if u went through this :( i also get ur try to manifest the change of this person, to help them get better.

my advice is sometimes it’s better to forgive and walk away. sometimes it’s best not to waste energy on people or beings, but focus on urself and ur desires. i understand where ur coming from, but honey, it may be time to let go.

im sorry this got kinda depressing at the end, but i hope this advice helps you. i love u so much n i’m rooting for u!! you’ll get everything u want and more one day. finishing this at 2:22 btw!!

[copias-girl]

I love the fact both canonically and in your writing style Copia is just this skrunkly old man with near debilitating anxiety, stomach issues, and for all his social shortcomings he still manages to have bit of a petulantly childish attitude lmao. Not to mention absolute net 0 rizz and despite all that, we all collectively just thought 'yep, i need that disaster man inside of me asap.'

So now let me raise you this lil hc that's been bouncing around in my think tank and the way i like to write him.

I see his preferred sin as less lust and more greed.

It's pretty prevalent in his day to day life, both pre and post ascension, he has a wicked sweet tooth, he likes pushing limits to see how much of something he can have and still get away with, he likes nice things, shiny things, ffs the man showed up with a bedazzled grucifix off rip, all those precious gems on his mitre, the fact that he has two (2) variants of regalia.

And I definitely see it shining through in his sex skills (or the initial lack there of tcac wise) He may take a little time getting used to reader's attention and definitely needs time to process the fact that she's genuinely into him and more than ready and willing to get down and dirty, but what the man lacks in experience, he makes up for in determination and near freakishly keen observation skills.

Hey, the man's a quick learner! And as soon as he figures out exactly what he likes and more so what he can do to get the right reactions out of reader, it's top priority info that's immediately stored away and saved for later. He's greedy about it in the sense that he's definitely gonna get his, but by all things unholy he's gonna get hers too. Multiple times over, because he WANTS it. He wants her coming back to him, for him, because of him again and again and again. He greedily wants her begging him to have her in any way he can have her. And what he wants, best believe he gets.

anyways that's enough of that, hope you enjoyed your weekend away! back to the void with me lol

- 🍍

MY SWEET PINEAPPLE ANON IM TACKLING YOU 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

FUCK I LOVE THIS AAAAH I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE LIKE SPECULATE ABOUT TCAC AND MAKE IT ALL DEEP AND STUFF!! As a writer that’s just such a huge compliment!!

First of all yes I love rizzless Copia lmaoo 😂 I absolutely LOVE a dominant Copia too but when he’s all awkward he’s just so cute and fuckable

And about the greed! I DEFINITELY see that! Like, it’s honestly true. You can tell Copia likes the finer things in life, and I love that about him.

In tcac Copia is STARVED for love, attention, and affection. Starvation causes greed. Once he gets a taste, it’ll be like crack to him. Sure it’ll take some time for him to overcome his terrible self esteem issues and get used to the idea of Reader actually liking him, but he’ll be thinking of her attention NONSTOP. Constantly craving it. He’ll be addicted to the way she makes him feel but as you said, also the way HE can make HER feel.

He’ll be addicted to that look in her eyes, the one that lets him know she truly only has eyes for him. He’ll be addicted to the way she screams his name, to the way she whispers her desperation into his ear. He’ll be addicted to the feeling of her little hands grasping the fabric of his cassock and pulling him into the nearest secluded area so she can demand his cock.

And he definitely has the best observation skills, especially when it comes to Reader’s pleasure! Copia is so greedy for her praise. The way she’ll cry and tell him how incredible his cock feels inside her. The way she tells him how good he’s doing for her. After being insulted and ignored all his life, the praise alone is enough to make him cum

And thank you so much! I had a marvellous time! But I’m happy to be back in the horny void lmaoo 😂