#contributing to the blood on him agenda

[demonzoro]

sorcerer / curse user

[ID: Two headshots of Nanami. He has blond side-swept coiffed hair, pale skin, and is looking forwards with a neutral expression of disdain. In the first headshot, he's wearing a blue suit jacket, yellow tie, and tinted clip-on goggles. Imposed over his left eye is a white ruler with the notch at 7:3 ratio creating a four-pointed star over his pupil. In the second headshot, the suit jacket and tie are desaturated monotones, and Nanami is sans goggles. The darkened shadows under his eyes are visible, as well as his hazel irises, and there is a violent blood splatter streaked across the left side of his face and over his nose bridge. END ID.]

[bro-atz]

what we do to boys who are on the run

in which: you just so happened to kidnap the wrong man, and you chose the worst possible one to kidnap.

pair: mafia boss!mingi/afab!reader

word count: 6.6k

content: smut, angst (everybody gets mad at bro), mingi's got a gun!, mingi's also on the run oops, some depiction of violence, wounds and bullets and general injuries, domestic!mingi?, big dick!mingi agenda, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), creampie?, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: hold onto your hats this is going to be a long note— and the extremely sylus inspired brain rot continues! domestic sylus anyone? also inspired by the movie ittefaq (you gotta really squint to see it tho) ONE MORE THING this is my contribution to the @cultofdionysusnet summer event: see u on the flip side; and lastly, i'm making this a sylus inspired brain rot series (sorry not sorry) ENJOY special thanks to choy @skteezcursed @ja3hwa and @k-hotchoisan

what we do to boys series: san, mingi

You didn't mean for it to happen. You went to the airport to surprise your brother. Well, you were going to "kidnap him" since he didn't know you were going to be there, but what you didn't know was that he missed his flight, so he decided to cancel his trip. And it certainly was not your fault for mistaking the man with the sunglasses and face mask for your brother. However, it was definitely your fault for putting a pillowcase over his head and pulling him to your car so you could bring him back to your apartment.

When you sat the man down in your living room and unveiled him, you were mortified. Sitting on the couch was a man with sharp eyes, a sharp nose, and the most attractive lips you had ever seen in your entire life— also, he had a gigantic gash across his cheek. This guy was most definitely not your brother— so who the hell was he? More importantly, how and why the hell did he let himself get kidnapped by you when he easily could've gotten away from you with all those damn muscles? And most importantly, why the hell was he bleeding?

"What the fuck?! You're not my brother!" were the first words out of your mouth upon seeing the man.

Rubbing his temples, he looked up at you with a piercing glare, sending shivers down your spine. "You treat your brother like this? Damn, I feel for the guy."

Still completely shaken by the fact that you abducted a total stranger and brought him into your home, your fight or flight instincts kicked in, and unfortunately for you, your body chose fight. You grabbed the lamp next to the couch and held it in front of you awkwardly.

"W-Who are you?!"

"Definitely not your brother, that's for sure," the man chuckled dryly.

"Don't act smart with me!" you raised the lamp, threatening to break it over his head. "I-I'll use th— I'm not afraid to u-use this!"

The slight smirk on his face dropped when you weakly threatened him. Moving his jacket aside, he revealed a gun while saying calmly, "Princess, that's not a weapon. This is. Now, put down the lamp before you break a nail, alright?"

Your blood froze the second you saw the gun. Meekly, you obeyed him, praying that he wouldn't pull the gun out of his holster. He silently gestured for you to get on your knees and kneel before him, which you did. Leaning forward, he brought his face closer to yours.

"You're going to answer my questions first," he started, his low voice practically scaring you shitless. "Why'd you want to kidnap your brother?"

"I-It was supposed to be a prank... He didn't know I was coming to the airport..."

"Why didn't you think to check who I was first before deciding to kidnap me?"

"You were wearing the sunglasses and the mask— You looked like my brother from behind, so I just acted— I got confused," you rambled, your brain desperately trying to keep it together while you answered his question.

"I see," he nodded and leaned back. "And what about your brother?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were at the airport to kidnap your brother, right? Is he on his way?"

"I— I don't know," you stuttered.

"Call him. Find out," he nodded.

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to see that you didn't have to call him— he texted you the entire saga on how he missed his flight and that he would not be visiting since the airplane tickets were too expensive.

"Well?" the man asked after several moments of silence passed.

"He's not coming..." you whispered, suddenly realizing that your chance at survival diminished significantly due to the fact that no one was going to come to your apartment.

"Good."

Good? Why good?!

"What do—"

"No, princess. I'm not done asking questions just yet," he interrupted you. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"I-In the bathroom..."

"Where is the bathroom?"

"Down the hall..."

The man stood up and immediately winced, his hand flying to his stomach to clench it. He took one step away from you, only to turn on his heel. He did the thing you feared he would do: he took his gun out of his holster. You were practically near tears seeing the gun so close to you.

"Take me there. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Nodding, you led him to the bathroom. He didn't touch you, but he forced you to enter the bathroom first, ensuring that you wouldn't be able to escape.

I kidnapped him, so why am I the one being held hostage?

He put his gun down on the sink and started looking through the cabinets for the first aid kit, but he was looking in all the wrong places, so you cleared your throat and asked, "Can I get it for you?"

He froze. He looked at you, then nodded once. You grabbed the first aid kit from where it was and set it down on the sink next to the gun. You considered using that chance to grab the gun and use it on him, but you didn't have the courage to do that— plus, you knew that you were somehow going to manage to shoot yourself in the process.

The man opened the box and grabbed a couple different things from the box— you couldn't tell what he grabbed because the lid of the box blocked your view— then started taking his jacket and shirt off. You immediately looked away, unsure of what to do at that moment. Sure, you could've looked at him warily since he was holding you hostage, but you also didn't want him biting your head off for looking at him while he did what he had to do.

As you pondered these questions, you heard him hiss in pain, immediately snapping your attention to him. You barely acknowledged how defined the muscles on his torso were before realizing he was cleaning a wound on his waist, instantly making you panic.

"You were stabbed?! You should go to the hospital!"

"I wasn't stabbed, I was grazed by a bullet," he replied while rolling his eyes. "And do you really think a guy like me should be in a hospital? I'll get arrested."

"Maybe for the gun, but if you're not a bad guy—"

"I would like to think that I am—" he interrupted you. "A bad guy."

"W-What do you mean...?"

"Oh, princess... You really should be careful next time you try to abduct someone..."

He set down the stuff from the kit and took a step towards you. Your back was pressing uncomfortably against the sink countertop as he pinned you in place, his face lowering to meet yours. Despite the fresh scar on his face and his general lack of warmth, you had to admit that he was kind of hot.

You felt your face flush with warmth, and you immediately avoided eye contact. The man stifled a snicker as he smirked. "You're cute, princess," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

He finally moved away from you to tend to his wound, letting you breathe. You kept your eyes on the ground, but your eyes would occasionally flit over to him to see what he was doing. He cleaned up the wound and was bandaging it when you glanced at him the seventh time. Surprisingly, he cleaned up after himself and closed the kit before putting it back where you got it out from. You kind of expected him to tell you to do that— but at this point, you didn't know what to expect.

"Come."

He held the gun in front of you again, and your nerves ran cold again. You left the bathroom first, the man following after you. You returned to the living room where he sat down on the couch with a grunt and you stood in front of him.

"So, since you kidnapped me," the man started, nearly making you roll your eyes at him. "I think it's only fair that you deal with the consequences and let me stay here a while."

"Huh?"

"I need a place to lay low. I was going to make other arrangements, but... I wouldn't mind staying in some princess's frilly little apartment."

You gritted your teeth and did your best to keep from yelling at him. After all, he could definitely kill you if you acted up. 

"I suppose that makes sense," you bit out.

"Great then—"

"But! I have some conditions."

You watched the man's gaze harden. You held your breath as he leaned forward, his gun still in hand. You were terrified he was going to hold it up, but he didn't.

"Never interrupt me, princess," he said, his deep voice scaring the shit out of you.

"Sorry," you squeaked.

He leaned back into the couch. He set his gun next to him, and you let go of the breath you had been holding.

"What are these conditions of yours?"

"If you're going to stay here, then you need to answer some questions I have for you," you stipulated.

"Alright," he said with a massive sigh. "You get one question."

"Only one?"

"Is that the question you want to ask?"

"No! No," you shook your head. "Just— Hold on."

The man looked at you as you thought about all the questions you had for him. Truth be told, you didn't want to know anything about his injury or his gun because that was just a nightmare waiting to happen. Finally, you settled on your question.

"Why do you want to stay here?" you asked.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Wait! Then, I want one more question since you technically didn't answer my last one," you countered.

"Fine."

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

"...Mingi."

The night after you kidnapped Mingi, you looked him up online, and while you did struggle a bit, you managed to find some articles about him and his gang. The more you uncovered about him, the more terrified you became of him. To think he used that gun to actually kill someone meant that he wasn't joking when he held the gun to your head— that thing was definitely loaded with real bullets.

You didn't know how long he was going to stay for, but when one of his underlings delivered a package— the biggest box you had ever seen— to your workplace, you figured he was going to be there for a while. You wanted to tell him off, but knowing that he hid his gun from you but could use it at any time made you keep your damn mouth shut.

Despite this home invader maximizing your anxiety, Mingi was surprisingly helpful and respectful, which only made you more wary of him.

Honestly, he was kind of like a dog if dogs had thumbs. You didn't have to worry if he would be gone when you left for work because he definitely made himself at home on your couch and promised you that he'd be waiting for you to get back— although, the first time he said it, it was more like a threat, like "if you don't come back home and try to tell the cops, I will kill you," type thing— but after that, it really was like walking home to a loyal dog. A loyal dog who would have dinner ready for you the second you got home.

"Hey, princess, you're home," Mingi greeted from the kitchen as soon as you walked through the threshold.

That was another thing. He still called you princess. And again, you wanted to tell him to stop, but you were too damn afraid to say anything to him.

"Yeah," you replied, exhausted. "I am..."

You threw your bag somewhere in the living room then trudged to your bedroom before flopping onto the bed. Your day at work was fine, but living with the mafia boss drained all of the energy from you that every action you made took twice the amount of effort that it should've. The second your face hit the pillow, you passed out.

When you woke up later that night, you woke up to see food for you on the kitchen countertop with a little note from Mingi that simply read "eat". You glanced at him on the couch where he was peacefully sleeping, the blanket he used to cover himself slowly slipping off his body.

That was your first mistake with the mafia boss. You shouldn't have cared, but you couldn't help it. You fixed the blanket for him. When you fixed it, he snuggled into the blanket and let out the softest sigh, your heart skipping a beat. You froze when he adjusted his sleeping position, worried that he would wake up, but he didn't. Carefully, you made your way back to the kitchen, ate the food he left for you, then went back to bed.

After seeing him sleep peacefully that one singular time, you unintentionally lowered your guard around the man.

One day, you got home from work to see Mingi sitting in the kitchen. He was on the phone with someone, but you couldn't tell who because the second you entered the room, he hung up.

"Who were you talking to?" you couldn't help but ask.

"None of your concern," Mingi brushed your question off. "How was work today?"

"Tiring... I think I'm going to go take a nap—"

"Don't do that. If you take a nap now, then you're going to be awake all night, and then you'll be even more tired at work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Saturday, Mingi," you pointed out.

"Oh... Well, don't take a nap. Keep me company."

Your stomach flipped. You had no idea why, but it did. Maybe you were scared— the man wasn't exactly an angel, and the way he said it was a little nerve-wracking, but he didn't sound malicious. Regardless of your confusion, you decided to just listen to him.

You sat at the kitchen island while Mingi went into the kitchen to start making something. As you sat there, however, you felt your eyes getting heavy, so you stood up and joined him near the stove, watching him as he tossed a couple of vegetables into the pan. You stared at the vegetables just tossing and turning, your eyes starting to get even heavier than before. Before long, your eyes were fully closed, and you started leaning towards Mingi. The second your body came in contact with his, though, you jerked awake and stood up perfectly straight.

"Did you just fall asleep standing up?" he asked with slight amusement as he looked at you, but the straight look on his face suggested that he was anything but amused.

"...Yes."

Mingi lips curled upwards into a slight smirk as he looked back to the stove. He smirked, and your heart fluttered. Your freaking heart fluttered for the mafia boss's insane side profile and devilish grin.

You were done for.

You don't know when the dynamic started shifting for the two of you. Heck, you didn't even know when you went from fearing for your life to enjoying every second you spent with the mafia boss.

Since he pretty much refused to leave your apartment, and you didn't have much of a social life outside of work, you were alone in your apartment together a lot. You started hanging out with Mingi more as a way to keep yourself from taking a nap as soon as you got back from work, and to fill the time between getting home and bedtime, you watched movies, played games, and just talked with the guy. He never told you anything about himself, but he could somehow talk about anything and everything for hours and hours on end.

One night, the two of you were watching a pretty innocent movie— so innocent to the point where it was honestly boring the shit out of you. You stifled a yawn as you and Mingi sat on your couch while watching the movie.

"Come on, the movie isn't that boring," he commented when he saw you actually yawn.

"I'm tired, and this is the world's slowest movie. I'm going to yawn," you retorted.

"Maybe we should change it then..."

Mingi grabbed the TV remote and flipped the channel, the next channel immediately showing the most intimate scene you had ever seen in a movie in your entire life. The second the scene appeared, you heard the characters on screen moan loudly. You choked on your spit and looked away while Mingi panicked and turned off the TV.

Silence filled the living room. You buried your face in your hands. Mingi covered his mouth with his hand. Neither of you dared to speak or even look at each other. The silence continued to persist until Mingi cleared his throat.

"I... Um..." he tried to clear the air with a wavering voice. "M-Maybe we shouldn't watch a movie tonight..."

"Y-Yeah..."

There was another bout of awkward silence. You stood up and silently retreated to your room. Before you closed the door, you squeaked out a quick "good night" to the man in the living room, only to bury yourself in your bedsheets. Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning— the moment was definitely not expected and awkward, but despite how insane the circumstances were, you were somehow turned on.

The dynamic definitely shifted after that point.

You and Mingi were still friendly with each other, but there was always something underlying in every interaction the two of you shared. It was either prolonged eye contact, or electricity every time the two of you briefly made physical contact with each other. Honestly, Mingi just breathing made you feel like your entire body was on fire, and the longer the tension persisted, the more desperate you got for him to do something— anything— with you. 

However, you lacked the courage to tell him that. So, one day, you sat yourself down in front of your vanity mirror in your bedroom and gave yourself a pep talk. Well, you were actually getting ready for an office party you were expected to go to, but you talked yourself into finally making some sort of move on him when you got back from the party.

As you got ready, you planned it out in your head. You were going to slip out of the apartment without Mingi knowing that you left, have only one drink at the party, and then come home immediately after. Luckily, you were able to do just that— you didn't run into Mingi on your way out, you managed to only get through the party on one glass of wine, and you returned home shortly thereafter.

When you got home and opened the door, Mingi didn't expect to see you wearing the tightest dress he had ever seen you wear. His brain short-circuited the longer he stared at the beautiful shape of your body, his eyes drawn to the way the dress hugged your bosom so tightly that it seemed like your chest was ready to pop out of the dress.

"I was wondering where you went," he murmured when you walked back into the apartment.

"There was a company party. I had to go," you sighed as you took your heels off, your sigh slightly turning into a moan of relief.

Mingi gulped nervously when he heard you, his body flushing with heat. It only got worse for him when you shook out your hair, messing it up a little.

As you ran your fingers through your hair, you couldn't help but notice the peculiar look on his face. Sober you would've just dismissed it, but you had enough liquid courage inside you to open your mouth and tease him.

"What is it?" you asked him, a smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing," he immediately responded while sucking in a breath.

You took a step towards him, your body mere centimeters from his. You held his arm, prompting him to look directly into your eyes.

"It doesn't seem like nothing," you whispered.

The man pressed his lips together and exhaled slowly through his nose, his entire body tingling when you rubbed his arm slowly with the faintest touch.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you, princess?"

You bit your lower lip and nodded, a smile playing on your lips. Your hand moved from his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck, your fingers tracing a line down the back of his neck. You closed the distance between you, pressing your body against his. Mingi exhaled slowly, heavily, and he let out a little grunt when you pulled his face towards yours, your lips barely brushing against his.

Mingi looked at you with wide eyes. When you kissed him properly, he acted without another thought. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back harshly, hungrily. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, his large hands cupping underneath and pulling you upwards so that he wouldn't have to bend as much to kiss you.

You clung to Mingi's shoulders when you felt his tongue push into your mouth, making a moan slip out of your mouth. You met his intensity with your own to the point where you were kissing him as if your life depended on it. Your hands desperately clung to him before you ran one hand down his chest, down his stomach, to his waist. You cupped your hand over his clothed hard-on, and that's when everything suddenly changed.

The second he felt your hand on his cock, Mingi pushed you away. He was breathing heavily as he increased the space between the two of you, his chest heaving as he avoided eye contact with you.

"No..." he muttered between breaths. "We shouldn't..."

"What? Why not?"

Mingi bit his lower lip in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. He racked his brain for the proper justification, but he just couldn't come up with anything.

"I... I can't explain."

You huffed in frustration. "You can't keep using that as an excuse, Mingi—"

"Please don't be mad," he interrupted you. "It's just... Can you just trust me when I say we shouldn't?"

"You, the guy with a gun? You want me to trust you?"

"Please."

You took a step away from Mingi. You pushed your hair out of your face and avoided eye contact with him. You were filled with frustration and anger at that point, but you knew that arguing with him was pointless.

"Fine," you finally bit out. "Whatever."

With that, you stormed off to your room and slammed the door behind you.

You and Mingi were walking on eggshells around each other the days following. The two of you couldn't be in the same room after that night. You weren't mad at Mingi anymore, but you didn't want to be anywhere near him because you were still so frustrated with him. That, and every time you were in a room with each other, the sexual tension shot through the roof.

Mingi was on the phone one night when you entered the living room wearing nothing but a robe. You just finished your shower, but you had yet to put clothes on because you needed to find your headband before you could start your night routine.

"Alright, sounds good," Mingi spoke quietly, his eyes tracking your every movement as you searched the living room.

He hung up and continued to watch you warily, his eyes locking on you every single time you bent over to search.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"My headband," you responded.

You started searching between the sofa cushions for the headband— the same sofa that Mingi was sitting on. Mingi refused to move as you continued to search, irritating you further. He was sitting right on one of the cracks. You stood in front of him and frowned at him when you realized that there was no way in hell he was going to move.

"Mingi, move," you tried ordering him even though you knew it was pointless.

Mingi's gaze hardened. You tried to move him yourself, but the second your limbs got close to him, he grabbed you and pinned you down to the couch.

"What the hell—"

"You're doing this intentionally, princess, and you know it," Mingi interrupted, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't. Don't fucking try me," he interrupted again, his face lowering towards yours.

You stopped breathing when you felt more of Mingi's body weight on you the closer he pressed himself to you. His knee pushed right between your legs, and his nose brushed against your jawline before he buried his face in the nook of your neck while inhaling deeply. Your entire body trembled when you felt his sensual breath on your neck.

"Mingi," you uttered when he let go of your arms so he could wrap his around you. "You better not be teasing me..."

"You think I would be teasing you right now?" he exhaled shakily.

"After what happened last time? Yes, I do."

Mingi stopped. He moved up and locked eyes with you, and you saw the deep, dark lust swirling in his eyes. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest when you saw the way he was looking at you. He wanted you the same way you wanted him, and there was no way he was going to push you away the same way he did last time.

Rather than continue in the living room, Mingi lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down in your bed and untied your robe, revealing your bare body. He once again buried his face in your neck, but this time he cupped your breasts, his large hand massaging your breasts as he left soft kisses all over your neck. You moaned slightly as held onto his shoulders tightly, your body beginning to writhe beneath him.

"Mingi," you whimpered in a hushed tone.

"Yes, princess?" Mingi murmured into your skin.

You didn't know what to say— part of you wanted to beg him for more, but he was barely doing anything, so you wanted to beg him to just fuck you already, but you knew that he wasn't going to just do as you asked so quickly. You settled for cupping his face and bringing him to meet your gaze briefly before locking lips gently with him.

He kissed you gently at first, meeting the same energy, but when you brought your knee up between his legs, his breathing hitched, and he kissed you a lot more forcefully. You moved your hands to the back of his neck and held on tightly as you found yourself getting swept away in Mingi's barrage of kisses.

As his lips ravished yours, Mingi's hand moved from your breast down between your legs. His fingernails scratched along your folds before he teased your cunt by barely sinking a singular finger into your cunt. You rolled your hips upwards the second you felt his fingers prod into you, making him withdraw his fingers— he was teasing you again. You whined and rolled your waist towards him impatiently.

"You're so impatient, princess," Mingi couldn't help but note with a slight snicker.

"How can I not be when this is all I've wanted for so long?" you huffed out.

Mingi's ears turned a light shade of pink briefly when he heard your words. Before you could say or do anything to poke fun at his random shyness, he thrust two of his fingers into your cunt. You gasped and held onto him even tighter when he moved his fingers in and out of you quickly, without remorse. His fingers were quite literally ruining you with the way he was curling them and ramming them deep inside you.

"F-Fuck, Mingi," you cried as you dug your nails into his skin. "S-Slow down!"

As if he was going to listen to you. Mingi added a third finger and continued with his rapid pace. You felt tension build inside you the rougher he got, and right when you felt like the tension was going to snap, he withdrew his fingers. Without missing a beat, Mingi lowered himself so that his face was between your legs. He kissed and sucked on your clit intensely before shoving his three fingers inside you again, overstimulating you completely. You cried loudly as you came, your cunt fluttering as you squirted.

Despite you cumming, the man kept going. He flicked his tongue rapidly against your clit and continued to fuck you with his fingers. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you pushed your head back into your bed and let yourself go completely. You came again, the force making not only your legs but your entire body tremble.

You were only seeing stars in your vision when Mingi finally stopped. You did your best to blink them away as you felt him move away from you. You were barely able to see clearly when he knelt before you and started stripping himself down. He took off his shirt to reveal his defined chest and the abs that you saw the very first time you met him. The wound that was on his waist had actually healed quite nicely, barely leaving a scar on his body. You couldn't help but reach for his waist and trail your finger along the area that he injured.

"W-What is it?" he asked, his voice trembling a little.

"The wound..." you muttered.

Your eyes slowly moved from gazing at the faint injury to his face. His eyes were still intense, but there was a small smile on his face— a smile that quickly turned into a smirk. His hands reached for your waist, and before long, you were sitting up. He slid the open robe off your shoulders, leaving kisses along your newly exposed skin as he did so. He trailed the kisses from your shoulder down your arm until the robe was completely off you, and he took your fingers into his mouth as he threw the robe off the bed. Your limbs tingled when you felt him suck on your fingers, the pressure making you feel pleasure that you'd never felt before— which was crazy considering that all he was doing was merely sucking your fingers.

When Mingi took your fingers out of his mouth, he sat back on his heels and undid his pants. Your eyes widened when you saw him pull out the most massive cock you had ever seen. His cock was rock hard, throbbing and twitching with every breath he took. He quickly removed his pants entirely and tossed them aside before reaching for your hand and guiding it to his cock. His cock seemed even more massive in your hand, and you were so dumbstruck by it that the man had no choice but to guide your hand up and down his length.

"Don't be scared, princess," you heard him chuckle in a low tone. "I promise I won't hurt you."

As his hand continued to guide yours, his other hand reached for your neck and brought your face closer to his. He pressed his fingers into the sides of your neck gently and kissed you sloppily but passionately, his tongue infiltrating your mouth. You were on cloud nine with the way he was squeezing your neck just right and kissing you over and over again. Your brain was melting the longer he kissed you, and when he stopped, you nearly whimpered. You looked at him desperately, and when you saw the smirk reappear on his face, you knew that he was definitely not going to leave you disappointed.

Mingi laid down on the bed so that his back was pressed against the headboard. He moved you so that you were straddling him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. You felt him rubbing his cock along your ass, the sheer size of his cock making you more nervous with every passing second.

"Are, uh... Are you sure this is the best way to start?" you whispered, your nerves starting to make your body tense.

"Trust me, princess. I know what I'm doing," Mingi replied in a hushed tone, his lips near your ear as he leaned towards you.

The sound of his low voice in your ear made you shiver. Holding your waist, Mingi moved you up before taking his cock and lining it up with your entrance. As soon as you felt the tip of his cock press through your cunt, you exhaled through your teeth, only for that exhale to get cut off by a loud cry when Mingi pushed down on your waist.

"Mingi— Fuck! Y-You're too big!" you sobbed when you felt his cock fill you up to the point where you felt like he already hit your cervix.

"Just breathe, princess," he said calmly as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Relax for me, okay?"

You exhaled slowly, and your body relaxed slightly. You remained seated on Mingi's cock as your grip on his shoulders loosened, his cock throbbing inside you. Leaning towards you, Mingi peppered kisses along your neck and chest, his hands rubbing your waist, hips, and thighs.

"Good, princess... Now, start moving when you're ready, okay?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. Taking a slow breath, you slowly and barely started moving your waist up and down, the length and girth of his cock a little too much for you to handle on your own. You couldn't help but let out a little cry every time you moved, his cock somehow seeming to get bigger with every movement you made.

Mingi's hands moved to cup your ass, and he assisted you. He moved you on his cock, making you cry louder when you felt the impact of your ass on his thighs and his cock ramming deep inside you whenever he pushed you down with force. The more he had to move you, though, the more frustrated the man got. After making you ride his cock for another solid ten seconds or so, he suddenly flipped you so that your back was pressed against the mattress.

Without a moment to lose, Mingi lowered his body so that your breasts were barely grazing his chest as he rolled his waist into yours. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, your nails digging into the skin on his back as his thrusts got stronger. Your entire body lurched with every slam of his pelvis against yours, and you choked on sobs and whimpers whenever you felt his cock reach deep inside you.

As painful as it was, you didn't want him to stop for even a second because it also felt that fucking good. The way his cock would graze your cervix which each thrust made you more and more excited, and it made the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi hissed through grit teeth. "You're so fucking tight. You feel so— Fuck!— So fucking good... Your cunt was just made for me, wasn't it, princess?"

Tears blurred your eyes, and one slipped out when you shut your eyes tightly and cried loudly in agreement. You couldn't even bother trying to come up with coherent words as Mingi literally fucked all of the thoughts out of your brain with his intense thrusts. You didn't think they would remain as intense when he started moving faster, but you were sorely mistaken— Mingi was strong and powerful no matter what his pace was.

Mingi bit his lower lip as he moved up. He grasped and pulled on your breasts as his waist moved rapidly, the sounds of your skin making contact over and over again filling up the room along with the squeaks of your worn bedsprings and the two of you moaning and groaning. The room got hotter, and you felt Mingi's sweat start to dot your skin when he dropped his head to watch the way your cunt swallowed his fat dick.

Honestly, just the sight of your sore red pussy was enough to make the man cum, but he held back as long as he possibly could. It was when he suddenly rammed his cock as far deep inside you as he could did he hit your cervix and make you cream around his cock, subsequently making him cum because your cunt got so tight that he thought you were going to snap it off. He grabbed your waist and rammed his cock deep inside you one final time before groaning loudly and filling you up with his cum.

The two of you were panting heavily by the time your highs wore off. Mingi's cock was still throbbing inside you by the time you caught your breath and blinked the blurriness out of your eyes, only for that blurriness to return when you felt him start to pull out, the friction of his cock inside your cunt making you feel good all over again.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi winced then chuckled when he felt your cunt tighten up. "Do that again, and I'll be forced to fuck you all night."

You locked eyes with him when he said that, and you pulled him closer to you before he could pull out completely. You kissed him sensually and left a tiny bite on his lower lip, slightly startling the man before you whispered, "Fuck me all night, then. I want you to ruin me, Mingi."

Mingi kissed you again as he pushed his cock all the way inside you once more. He smirked against your lips in between kisses.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

The next day was extremely weird. When you woke up, Mingi wasn't in bed with you— sure, he didn't have to sleep in the same bed as you after the two of you slept together for the first time, but considering that the two of you stayed in your tiny apartment together, it was weird that he wasn't there next to you. That, however, was not the weirdest part of that morning.

You barely made it out of bed and stumbled into the living room to see that Mingi wasn't on the couch either. Actually, there was no trace of him living in your living room at all or in your entire apartment for that matter. Your jaw dropped as you realized that Mingi was not only not in the apartment, but he and the very little belongings he had completely vanished.

You searched your entire freaking apartment for any sign of him or at least a clue as to where he had gone, but there was nothing in sight. Mingi had disappeared as if he was never there in the first place, leaving you confused, angry, and sad.

Sure, he was a mafia boss, and he owed you no explanation, but how could he just leave you like that? Especially after the way the two of you spent the night prior, why did he just leave you like that?

In the days following, you tried to see if you could figure out where he had disappeared to, but you couldn't. There was no way you were going to be able to track down that man. Just as randomly as he entered your life, he left it as well, and you had to somehow make your peace with that.

Yet, you couldn't help but miss him. You couldn't help but miss the man that held the gun to your head and threatened to kill you, the man that spent so much fucking time with you over the past several weeks, the man you accidentally fell in love with. Fuck. How the hell were you going to make peace with that?

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[hyhkai]

these photos are such a contribution to me for my agenda of yeonjun as alex volkov from the twisted series and that's because it's radiating — model yeonjun. (I loved the photography scene what can I say)

the concurrence of your very sexual & romantic relationships with him all while him being one of your clients at your studio, you purposefully making sure no one was there to interfere or nudge in his session there — you struggling to even find a single bad photo of him because he's just the perfect amount of symmetry and wholly beautiful. sexy.

photos clicked, photos selected. with you at the edge of the table of hair and make-up, surely you won't be deleting any of the photos that didn't make it through either. perusing through each photo, looking at the intricate details of his body — why even look at the photos when now he's in front of you, hands beside you on the table, catching you practically drooling at his photos? you immediately shut the camera down, — but it's not like you and him haven't seen it all.

"why, are those photos bad?" he asked, with the intent of purposefully annoying you. you shook your head no, "they're great."

and soon behind the locked doors of the photoshoot room, the high bar chair that was only supposed to be for him to sit in for some magazine cover, was now being used for him to basically fall into — knees buckling back as he sat down, almost irritated your mouth wasn't already put to use.

you always did, you always always did end up on your knees in your own studio, your panties sticking to your core when your head would get pushed down onto his dick. yeonjun's eyes shut, head tilted back — biting his lips as he heard your gargles and noises you make just to make him shiver.

"h-hah. just like that.. just, — just like that." he would mumble under his breath, your eyes shut close and thanking your own self for not wearing any eyeliner, because god of you did — none of it would be able to handle the strain of your tears.

holding your hair up for you, gently, while you licked the underside of his tip — making him let out a shut-off whimper. rubbing his dick on your lips, looking up at him with big doe eyes as he stared right back, chuckling as he brushed the hair off your forehead, gently.

swallowing it, inch by inch, him desperately wanting to push your head down and use you but no. no, he can't do that. he just breathed out small fucks and holy shits when you'd taken him whole. he wished to keep you there, in place, for a minute.

a soft pop audible when you disengage your lips from his dick, leaning in to lick the base of his dick and place a series of pecks. a smile on your face when he mumbled "baby, please." like you weren't already giving him what he truly craved from your photoshoots.

getting your head pushed down after he finally gave in to what he craved — your eyes widening a bit but also moaning, approvingly. the way he was biting into his own, plump lips could draw blood.

pulling your head away, hands pumping his dick as it twisted at the cockhead, — you'd stare up at him, admiring his each and every detail because he's too hot too beautiful for his own good. and when he cums, it's going to end up on your face, and he'd soil his own pants.

"we have another session, next week, friday, I hope I'll be getting a good payback for this" you said, getting up as he just stared at the lines of white on your cheekbones. the perfect highlighter.

[sailorgoon13]

Regulus Black

Basics:

Full Name: Regulus Arcturus Black

Nickname: Reg, Reggie

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 28 June, 1961

Heritage: English

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Walnut, Phoenix feather, 11", Rigid

Appearance:

Hair Color: Black hair, natural curl

Eye Color: Grey eyes

Skin Tone: Light

Height: 5'9"

Body Type: Slender, lean.

Style: Tailored robes of rich, deep colors—charcoal black, midnight blue, and emerald green. Beneath his robes, he favored crisp, white shirts paired with fitted trousers. His hair, dark and tousled, fell effortlessly across his forehead. Around his neck, he wore a simple pendant

Features: His hair dark and possibly slightly unkempt. His stormy grey eyes. Stoic exterior

Personality:

Traits: Determination, Integrity, Compassion, Selflessness

Likes: Music, Art, Nature walks

Dislikes: Arrogance, Close mindedness, Prejudice, Injustice

Hobbies: Quidditch, Reading

Fears: Voldemort, What Voldemort planned on doing

Family and Friends:

Father: Orion Black

Staunch believers in the supremacy of pure-blood wizards and witches

Likely authoritarian parents who expected strict obedience and adherence to family traditions from their sons. Their rigid upbringing likely contributed to the conflicts and tensions within the Black family.

Mother: Walburga Black

Was infamous for her enchantment of the Black family tapestry, which displayed the family's tree.

She blasted off the names of any family members who were disowned or deemed unworthy, including Sirius when he left home.

Friends: Regulus upbringing within the pure-blood supremacist Black family, suggests that he may not have had many genuine friendships, especially outside of those who shared his family's beliefs. His relationship with his brother Sirius suggests that he may have harbored feelings of loyalty and affection towards him, despite their differences. Though strained by their ideological divide, their familial bond could have provided a foundation for understanding and mutual support.

Magic:

Special Abilities: Was taught Dark Magic at a young age

Boggart: Voldemort

Patronus: He could not produce one

Polyjuice: Would appear to be black with silver specks. Smells like old parchment and ink, mixed with earthy tones. The taste would be subtle and similar to dark chocolate with a hint of bitterness.

Amortentia: Subtle undertone of smoky incense or burning parchment, a faint scent of lilies and fresh air after a storm

Backstory:

From a young age, Regulus Black was groomed to uphold the traditions and beliefs of his prestigious pure-blood family. His parents, Orion and Walburga, had high expectations for both him and his older brother Sirius, expecting them to excel in their studies at Hogwarts and uphold the family's legacy of loyalty to the Dark Lord Voldemort.

As children, Regulus and Sirius were inseparable, bound by their shared experiences and the weight of their family's expectations. They dreamed of making their mark on the wizarding world together, fueled by their ambition and thirst for recognition.

But as they grew older, Sirius began to question their family's beliefs and rebel against their parents' authority. His defiance strained their relationship, leaving Regulus torn between his loyalty to his family and his affection for his brother.

Desperate to prove himself to his parents and earn their approval, Regulus stepped up to fill the role that Sirius had abandoned. He embraced the teachings of Voldemort and joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, believing that he was serving a noble cause and fulfilling his family's expectations.

However, as Regulus became more deeply involved in Voldemort's dark agenda, he began to witness the true extent of the Dark Lord's cruelty and ruthlessness. Horrified by the atrocities committed in his name, Regulus started to question his allegiance and the values instilled in him by his family.

It was during this tumultuous time that Regulus learned of Voldemort's Horcruxes—objects containing fragments of his soul that ensured his immortality. Fueled by a sense of duty and redemption, Regulus resolved to atone for his past mistakes by destroying one of the Horcruxes—the locket hidden in the cave.

In a daring and selfless act, Regulus defied Voldemort and ventured into the treacherous cave, facing countless dangers to reach the locket. Though he ultimately succeeded in retrieving it, he paid the ultimate price for his bravery, sacrificing his life to ensure that Voldemort's reign of terror would be brought to an end.

Regulus Black may have started his journey as a pawn of his family's ambitions and Voldemort's manipulation, but in the end, he found redemption in an act of courage and self-sacrifice, leaving behind a legacy of bravery and defiance that would inspire others to stand up against darkness and tyranny.

Academics:

Best Subject: DADA

Favorite Subject: Potions

Favorite Professor: Slughorn

Worst Subject: Muggle Studies

Least Favorite Subject: Divination

Least Favorite Professor: McGonagall

Student Life:

Regulus was quite active and had a love for being on the Quidditch team

Was in a few extracurricular activities such as Dueling Club and also Slugclub

He was one of Horace Slughorn's favorite students and excelled at potions

As Sirius began to rebel against their family's beliefs and traditions, tensions between the two brothers would have escalated

Template: @hazyange1s

[wongyuseokie]

Mine | JJK

Summary: Jungkook really shouldn’t have ventured into the house that no one else did, and he really should have seen the warning signs, but something about you drew him in, and now, he was in and never getting out. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works Word Count: 5647 words

Age: 18+ Pairings: Jungkook x Demon! Female Reader 

Genres/AUs/Tropes: Smut, Angst, Horror

Warnings: Unprotected sex, OC is much more than someone who manages a haunted house. Keep reading to find out. Squirting, deception, and revenge at its finest. Mentions of blood and Koo falls over and scrapes his knee. Multiple orgasms, and oral male and female receiving, call it a sinister Pokémon hunt?

Author’s Note: Kinkotober? Halloween smut is based very (EXTREMELY) loosely on the Haunting of the Bly Manor. Also, lowkey based on Taylor Swift’s Blank Space MV, the last scene, where she kills the guy and then gets ready, a new guy shows up at her door again, and the music restarts. You’ll get it later 😅 Authors Note 2: I wrote this fic some time ago, and I wanted to revive it (GET IT) for Halloween. This is my contribution to The Nightmares of Mystic Manor collab hosted by BTS Dream Court and BTS Carnival Net Authors Note 3: I didn't think I'd revive a fic, much less this one, but I could not have done any of it without my lovely friends who took time out of their days to hear me yell about banners and content for so long, thank you @shina913 and @here4btsfics for taking the time to read through this and give me feedback and help beta this! I adore you both endlessly!! 💕 Banner Credits: @classicseffects​ Cross Posted to AO3 © playmetheclassics 2022. All rights reserved. 

Jungkook loved Halloween. 

It was the perfect time to play jokes and scare the shit out of people and the perfect time to encourage his “no fear, and YOLO” agenda. But tonight, he had different plans. He was going to do something that no one would dare, and for that very reason, Jungkook had to do it. 

There was a mansion on Hill Street. It was rumoured to be haunted. Once upon a time, it housed a mob boss. Anyone who ever crossed him was met with a long and torturous death. He often took care of business at home. People have said that the manor’s walls had witnessed brutal murders. Decades later, the ghosts of the mob boss’ victims continue to roam the halls, wailing and screaming for mercy. and The story was that anyone who walked into that house never came out, and every Halloween, some idiot would venture into that house to never be seen again. 

Jungkook laughed at all the rumours, but he was about to become that idiot tonight.

“Dude, just keep your location on, okay? Once you get to the house, just send me a message, and if your ass isn’t out by tomorrow, I’ll call the police,” Jimin warned. He was exhausted from trying to reason with Jungkook. 

Jungkook could be as stubborn as a mule, and he nodded, seeing how Jimin finally gave in which made him so happy. “I’m fucking serious. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll kill you before whatever resides in that house kills you first!” Jimin said, and Jungkook nodded, this time taking the words of his friend thoughtfully. 

“Noted! Now, I shall see you tomorrow if the house hasn’t killed me before that,” Jungkook jokes, making Jimin glare at him.

God, how he hated Jungkook’s adventurous streak and wished that he could tie him to a chair until Halloween was over. Jimin knew, Halloween or not, Jungkook would still venture into the house, regardless. Might as well let him do it once, get spooked and never try again, Jimin rationalised as he glared at Jungkook, who excitedly packed his bag and laced up his boots.

“Alright, see you never, Hyung!” Jungkook said as he headed towards the door, earning a smack upside his head from Jimin. 

“Just go on and get your adrenaline fix! I will see you later, you brat!” Jimin nearly yelled, and Jungkook nodded, giving Jimin a tight hug before leaving. 

“Damn!” Jungkook said as he reached the edge of  the forest, where the manor was. He couldn’t lie to himself–it was eerie! The entire journey here was right out of a horror movie. It was dark and foggy and oddly quiet. It was just an old house, according to Jungkook, nothing else. Just a stupid old place with horrible rumours. 

Jungkook would merely step inside, take a selfie and possibly say hi to a non-existent disembodied soul and then leave. And then brag to Jimin about how he was invincible and how Jimin was too worried for his own good. 

However, despite how brave Jungkook was, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was being followed or watched as he got out of his car and approached the manor. 

Jungkook always had a terrible habit of walking with his head held too high. Often, this meant he would miss a step and trip, and that’s precisely what happened as he approached the manor. He tripped and scraped his knee. He hissed in pain as he got up on his feet, only to jump in fear when he felt a hand on his back. 

“Hi,” a small voice spoke from behind him. The voice filled the silence of the forest, and Jungkook swore his heart nearly stopped. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Fuck- what the hell,” Jungkook gasped, panting hard as he placed his hand over his chest to steady his erratic heartbeat. 

“Jesus, who are you?” Jungkook asked you. There was something about you, he thought, something ethereal and angelic. It was almost as if you were glowing. However, he didn’t dwell on it for too long. It was a forest, and it was foggy, it could have just been his eyes. 

“Y/N,” you said, and Jungkook nodded slowly. “Are you following me or something? Who else would come to the Hill Manor?” He asked, staring at you, and you let out a soft laugh that Jungkook could have sworn sounded like music, like a choir of angels singing. But there was an underlying hint of something more sinister behind your laughter. But again, he didn’t dwell on it for too long. After all, ghosts didn’t really exist for him. 

“I manage the Hill Manor, so I feel like I should be asking you what you’re doing here? Anyway, what’s your name?” You asked, moving your hand away from Jungkook’s back. And he swore that he felt the part that your hands were just on tingle. It didn’t hurt, but it felt funny. 

Again, he didn’t think anything of it.

“Jungkook,” he said, smiling softly at you. 

“Fuck, aren’t you nervous to, like, live here? Aren’t there ghosts and shit inside?” Jungkook asked, making you smile. The sweetest smile ever, he thought. 

“Ghosts don’t exist, but I’m guessing you’re an adrenaline junkie. Here to prove something to your friends?” You questioned him, and Jungkook nodded shyly. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I caught you. Most people try to break in and then run away when they hear my footsteps approach the front door,” you joked, making Jungkook smile. 

“Come on, why don’t you come in? Your cut looks pretty deep and needs to be cleaned out. I have a first-aid kit inside and we can bandage it up, then afterwards, you can take as many selfies as you want,” you offered, and Jungkook nodded as he followed you towards the manor. 

Jungkook could have sworn that the blood loss was affecting him more than usual. Your movements were so lithe…which made it really strange since the path to the manor was unpaved and uneven. Any normal person walking through this area would be staggering around. But you weren’t walking. You were floating. Your feet never touched the ground, but he thought that maybe he was starting to hallucinate  due to blood loss, and again, the forest was foggy. 

People don’t float. At least…not normal people.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook breathed out he entered the manor, and you closed the door behind him.

“What? Did you expect bodies and carnage?” You asked, and Jungkook shrugged, making you laugh. 

“I manage this house, so I make sure to clean, and care for it. Besides, why would I want to make it look less appealing when my job is to get this place sold?” You explained, and Jungkook nodded as he looked around the house. 

“Wait, you actually have buyers interested in this property? I thought the scary stories would have put them off?” Jungkook asked, and you smiled at him and shrugged. 

“Well, I guess. I’m banking on finding one of those eccentric buyers that think living in a rumoured haunted house is cool,” you joked, making him grin at you. 

“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll grab that first aid kit for you,” you suggested, and Jungkook nodded as he sat down in the living room. Everything looked modern, but what really caught his eye were the oil paintings on the wall. They were portraits, and he could have sworn one of the faces resembled yours. But again, he didn’t give it much thought. 

“I can’t take these down. It adds intrigue to the house,” you said as you found Jungkook eyeing the paintings. 

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that one  looks a lot like you,” he jokes, pointing at the specific portrait, earning a smile from you. 

“Now, wouldn’t that be crazy?” You said, laughing and Jungkook nodded, agreeing. 

It would be fucking crazy. 

“I thought you were grabbing a first aid kit?” Jungkook asked as he saw a wet washcloth in your hand and disinfectant in the other. 

“My grandma taught me old school methods. She said it’s always important to learn how to treat injuries without relying too much on modern medicine,” you explained, making him nod. 

“Will I still get a band-aid?” Jungkook jokes, and you smile, nodding. 

“Of course,” you answered as you sat on the couch next to him. 

“Lift,” you said, nudging Jungkook’s thigh, and he hesitated. You rolled your eyes and slid off the couch to sit on your knees in front of him. 

“Oh no, I can lift my leg,” Jungkook replied quickly, feeling bad for making you sit on the floor. You smiled, shaking your head at him. 

“Lean back, let me clean your knees. You have tiny pebbles and dirt on them,” you offered, and he nodded, leaning back. 

Jungkook winced when you dabbed his knee with the disinfectant. “Ow!” Jungkook whined, earning a soft chuckle from you. 

“I thought a man covered in tattoos would have a higher pain threshold?” You joked, earning a scowl from him. 

“That was voluntary pain, this is not,” Jungkook argued, and you shrugged. 

“You decided to visit this manor. Despite everyone telling you not to, I’m sure. So… this counts as something pretty voluntary to me,” you said as you dabbed a salve on his wound. 

“Are you always this sassy?” Jungkook asked, and you smiled at him. 

“It depends on my mood,” you answered. 

“And what has gotten you particularly sassy this Halloween evening?” He asked, and you sighed. 

“Well, I used to throw Halloween parties here, but we had an incident some years ago where  this family decided to bring their toddler. Needless to say, she got spooked. Word got out and we got some bad press. Since then, Halloween has become quite lonely,” you explained, and Jungkook nodded. 

“Until you tripped. I was taking a walk, and as I was heading back, I saw you were first staring at the house and then fell over,” you explained, earning a glare from Jungkook. 

“You saw me fall and didn’t help?” He asked incredulously.

“I’m helping now, aren’t I?” You spoke, and Jungkook nodded. You smiled, wrapped bandages around  his injured knee and stood up. 

“Thanks,” Jungkook said. 

“Uh, any way I can repay  you?” Jungkook asked as you sat on the coffee table across from him. 

“I’d suggest joining me for a drink, but I’m assuming you drove here?” You asked and Jungkook nodded sadly. 

“Ah, yeah, I’m sorry,” he scratches his neck.

Just then, as if by some force of God or magic, the wind started to howl outside, followed by some lightning and a loud thunderclap, making Jungkook throw his head back and groan. 

“Welp, I guess I’m here until that dies down. I hope that’s okay?” Jungkook asked, and you nodded. 

“More than okay. What’s your poison?” You asked, and he stared at you strangely. 

“I feel like that’s a terrible thing to ask someone in a haunted house,” Jungkook jokes, and you laughed, leaning forward as you stood up. 

“Do you scare easily?” You asked, and he looked up to meet your gaze. 

“Nope! And I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Jungkook said confidently, leaning back into the couch, making you smile at him as you wandered off to the kitchen to fix him a drink. 

A few moments later, you return and present him with a glass of amber liquid and ice. “Here you go!” Jungkook mouths his thanks as he accepts the drink. He took a sip of it, then immediately grimaced at the intense, burning feeling that went down his throat. 

“Fuck, what is that?” He asked. He didn’t exactly hate the taste, but it certainly didn’t feel like anything familiar that he’s tried before. 

“Whiskey, but it’s kind of an old treasure from this house. One of the previous owners had it, and well, I guess it got stronger over time?” You chuckled. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened in awe. “So…we’re drinking a dead man’s liquor,” he laughed, “That’s got to be a solid reason to haunt you!” You roll your eyes at him. 

“Why are you so damn convinced that this house is haunted?” You asked, and Jungkook shrugged. 

“Where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire,” he said wisely, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Alright, ghostbuster, would you like a tour of this manor?” You asked, making Jungkook’s eyes light up, nodding enthusiastically. “Finish your drink, and I’ll show you around. When we’re done,I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether or not this house is haunted,” you said, making him smile. 

“Deal, but I do want a selfie with a ghost,” Jungkook jokes. You stifle a smile in response as you watch him down the rest of his drink. 

“Oh, wow- I can see why this place would scare someone though,” Jungkook gasped as he followed you up the grand staircase that led into the hallway where the bedrooms were. “So if I opened the door to one of these rooms, would I see a spirit?” He asked playfully, earning a nudge from you. 

Just as Jungkook laughed, a flash of lightning illuminated the second floor of the manor. He swore he saw someone behind you, just a shadow, but it wasn’t yours. 

He immediately dismissed it.

“Scared yet?” You teased, making Jungkook glare at you. 

“Here,” you said, handing him a bottle of liquor. “Take another sip of courage.” Jungkook  grabs the bottle from you and takes a long swig, making him shudder. He would never get used to that burning sensation but at least it soothed his nerves. 

“Okay, I’ll say this- this place is quite creepy,” Jungkook said as you guided him along the first floor and to another set of stairs. 

“Come on, we haven’t even gotten to the best part,” you said as you climbed up another set of stairs, only for Jungkook to grab your wrist slowly. 

“Wait, can I walk ahead?” He asked–showing off a bit–, waiting for you to tease him, but you just smiled at him.

“Are you scared?” You asked. There was no humour in your tone. You were honestly concerned. 

“Spooked,” Jungkook admitted, and you smiled at him.

“Sorry. Why don’t we take a little break? We can relax in my room. It’s a lot less creepy,” you said, making him nod.

There was something so eerie about the hallways in this house, almost as if someone was lying in wait, ready to pounce at any point and drag him into the shadows…where he would meet a slow and painful death. 

Jungkook’s grave thoughts are interrupted when you grab his hand and guide him to your room. He flinched at the contact because your skin was painfully cold to the touch…but then again, the entire house felt frigid. He thought that maybe you needed to sit in front of the fireplace or something to warm up but judging by the light clothing you had on, it looked like you were already used to the house’s arctic nature. You did live here, after all. 

“Here,” you said, letting go of Jungkook’s hand as you opened your bedroom door. You let him in first and turned around to close the door behind you, not bothering to lock it. 

“Yeah, this room is a lot more, I guess, bright?” Jungkook said, not knowing what to say.  He wanted to say that this was the only room in  the house that didn’t look insidious or scary. You walked closer to him, placing your hand on his back. He recoiled slightly but relaxed when he turns to face you. 

“It’s okay to admit that you’re scared. I wouldn’t judge. Not at all. My first three months in this house, it was hell. I’d stay awake all night and wait ‘til broad daylight to get some sleep. But you get used to it, you know,” you shrug Hearing that gave Jungkook a small sense of comfort.

“Why don’t you sit?” You said as you guided him to your bed, and Jungkook nodded, kicking his shoes off and sitting on your bed, wincing slightly when his wounded knee grazed your mattress. 

“You okay?” You said, approaching him and standing in between his legs. Jungkook nodded, smiling at you. 

Jungkook didn’t know what exactly it was, but there was something magnetic, practically hypnotic, about you. He first felt it when you touched his back when he fell, and it never went away. You were drawing him in, and for some reason, Jungkook felt at ease. It wasn’t like you had wings, devil horns, or fangs. You were just a person…with a strange job. 

“I’m just going to change into something more comfortable, but why don’t you make yourself at home?” You suggested, and Jungkook nodded as he settled further into your bed, allowing the soft sheets to caress his skin. 

Jungkook fished out his phone to message Jimin and update him. He did breathe out a sigh of relief when he saw that his phone hadn’t mysteriously died upon setting foot into the house. That would usually happen in all horror movies. 

Jungkook shot Jimin a text with his location, replied to a few other messages, and sent Jimin a selfie and a quick note about how you helped him out. Jimin replied, ‘use protection,’ making him chuckle as he placed his phone on your bedside table.

When you emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook nearly chokes at the sight of you. 

“Y-you’re glowing…you know that?” Jungkook stutters, and you smile at him. 

“What?” You asked, laughing as you climbed into the bed sitting inches away from Jungkook. 

“You have this glow around you. Literally, like an angel, a halo if you will,” Jungkook said, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“I’m guessing that yo’re single? Your pickup game is pretty weak,” you teased, and Jungkook pouted at you. 

“Hey!” He scoffed.

“It’s true, I am single, but that wasn’t a pickup line! I was merely stating a fact,” he said, and you smiled, inching closer to him. 

Jungkook was painfully aware of the fact that your version of changing was simply removing your hoodie, leaving you in your tight tank top and leggings that hugged every inch of your legs. You weren’t wearing a bra, he could tell. 

He tried to be a gentleman, but he was only human. Your hardened nipples were poking through your shirt, and Jungkook wanted to latch his lip around them while his hand played with the other. 

“Then tell me…what is your game like?” You asked, your voice low, and he smiled at you. 

“I don’t talk a lot. I prefer to show,” he said, staring directly at you, making you smile at him. 

“Show?” You cocked an eyebrow, playing along with him. 

“I can demonstrate…if you like?” Jungkook asked, and you nodded. 

“May I?” He asked, and you nodded, yelping slightly as Jungkook wrapped his arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. “You’re so cold,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your waist, his fingers moving to inch up your tank top slightly and settling on your skin. 

“I guess you’ll have to warm me up?” You said, making him smirk. 

“And here you are saying my pull game is weak?” Jungkook teased, earning a playful frown from you, and laughed. 

“Fuck, Y/N! If I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,” Jungkook said, and you smiled at him. 

“Then don’t stop,” you whispered, and Jungkook groaned as you moved to place a soft kiss on his neck. 

“Fuck- shouldn’t I at least take you out on a date or something first?” He asked, and you smiled, sitting on his lap. 

“You wanted to pay me back for fixing up your knee? This can be it,” you said, and Jungkook grinned. 

“Fuck, I came here with the intent of taking a selfie with a ghost,” Jungkook joked as he pulled you in closer, and you laughed. 

“Well, just say you fucked one,” you joked as he laughed along with you. 

“Come here, let me show you how grateful I am,” Jungkook said as he pulled you in for a kiss, and you moaned, immediately kissing him back with his lips gently massaging yours. He moved away when he felt you tug at his shirt and lifted his arms, allowing you to take off his top. 

“So good,” you mewled as you took in his body. His abs seemed to trail down endlessly. Jungkook smirked before pulling you back in for a kiss, this one more desperate, making you moan. He took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. 

His hands moved to the hem of your tank top, and he yanked it,off your body, exposing your breasts to him.

“Fucking hell, your tits are amazing,” Jungkook moaned in approval as he wrapped his lips around your hardened nipple, while his other hand massaged your other breast. 

“May I?” he asked, as his hand slithered down to your cunt.

“Fuck- Jungkook, please,” you begged, and he shamelessly smirked at your state. He pushed you off his lap and onto the bed, laying you on your back. Jungkook’s hands went to your leggings and pulled them off along with your panties, groaning and moaning when he felt how wet you were. 

“Fuck, all this for me?” Jungkook asked, making you sigh in pleasure. His hands trailed up your thigh and stopped, spreading your legs apart further, laying down between them. You could feel his breath on your cunt, and it didn’t help that he gently blew on your cunt, making you buck your pussy into his face. 

Jungkook gripped your thighs tighter and pulled you close, his nose hitting your clit making you moan at the touch. 

He moved his mouth to wrap around your cunt, sliding his tongue up and down your folds. He was listening to your moans, waiting to see when his tongue would meet the spot that would have you cumming. Your thighs started thrashing in his grip, and he figured that he found the perfect place.

 He moved and wrapped his lips around your clit, his tongue jutting out and harshly flicking at your clit. Your hands went to his hair, knotting themselves in his soft curls. Jungkook slipped two fingers into your cunt, moved them in and out of you making your walls tighten at the onslaught. 

“Fuck- Jungkook! So good,” you breathed out. Jungkook hummed into your pussy, the vibrations making you clench even tighter. He enjoyed the praise, always eager to please. He kept moving his mouth, sucking and flicking your clit, while his tattooed fingers continued to pump in and out of your pussy. 

You felt something snap, and you pulled at Jungkook’s hair. You fell apart on his tongue and fingers. He wasted no time lapping up your release. 

It was almost inhuman how quickly you undid Jungkook’s trousers and shrugged them off. Within seconds your lips were wrapped around his cock. 

Jungkook was thick, and your hands wrapped around the remainder of his length as you took him and started to suck him. He let out a sound that sounded like a mix between a low growl and a strangled whimper as you continued to suck him. 

You grazed your nails along his thighs and he let out a shaky breath, bucking his length into your throat, making you gag slightly. You hollow your cheeks and bobbed your neck up and down his length, sucking and licking until you felt him still, releasing in your mouth. 

Jungkook couldn’t get enough of you. His eyes drank you in; his mouth was desperate to taste you again. He approached you and lifted your legs, placing them on his shoulder, his mouth immediately finding your cunt. 

Jungkook dove straight in, his thick tongue flicking against your swollen clit. Your hands made their way into his hair. He pushed in three fingers this time and it didn’t take much before you came on his tongue. Jungkook lapped at your release while you whimpered in oversensitivity. 

“Let me kiss it better?” Jungkook offered.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Just fucking do something.”

Jungkook smirked as he dove straight in. Again. He started by running his tongue along your folds, moaning at the taste. He gently grazed his teeth against your clit, making you buck your face against his mouth. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked while his tongue constantly ran over your swollen clit. 

“More,” you begged as your head fell back into the bed. Jungkook complied and slipped three fingers inside you as you moaned at the stretch. 

Jungkook moved his three fingers against the inside of your pussy and kept hitting against the rough patch of the skin. His tongue kept running over your clit while his three fingers thrust in and out of you at a fast pace. 

“Fuck! Jungkook, I want to cum,” you whimpered as he kept fingering and licking you. Jungkook moved his fingers faster, and you felt your orgasm wash over you, your thighs threatening to snap shut around Jungkook’s head. 

“Mm?” He looked up and smirked when he saw how fucked out you looked. Jungkook helped you ride out your orgasm with his fingers and tongue, and you were practically mewling as you tugged on his hair. He loved knowing that he could do that with just his tongue.

Jungkook rubbed his cock against your wet folds several times and then pushed in. “Fuck,” you hissed. “Fuck you’re tight,” Jungkook groaned. 

You hissed as the stretch was quite intense after three orgasms, but he felt so good. “Move,” you whispered, and that’s all it took for Jungkook to lift your legs and place them on his shoulders, allowing him to hit deeper inside you. 

His thrusts were rough, and each time he would withdraw only to push back harder and deeper.

Jungkook’s thrusts started to get more uneven as he closed in on his orgasm. He reached down and rubbed at your swollen clit, making you cum around his cock. Not long after, he came inside you, making you moan at the feeling of him pulsing and spurting into you. 

He removed your legs from his shoulder and moved down your body. Jungkook’s mouth found your cunt, as he licked his cum out of you, making you orgasm yet again. You whimpered, tugging at his hair and pulling him up to hold you.

You came around his tongue whimpering in pleasure, but Jungkook wasn’t done. He got off his knees and pulled you into his arms. Your back was pressed against his chest, and he spread your legs wide open as he trailed two fingers down to your cunt. 

He slipped his fingers into your cunt and started pumping. Jungkook wasted no time. He had one goal: to make you cum as many times as humanly possible. 

“Fuck,” you whined as you grabbed his tattooed arm. Jungkook moaned as he sucked on your neck. You felt your vision fade as you came hard and practically snapped your legs shut and curled into Jungkook’s embrace. 

“Fuck, that was-” you stopped speaking when you saw you had squirted all over his hands. “That was fucking hot,” Jungkook said as he pulled you closer to him. 

“Happy Halloween, I guess?” Jungkook said, laughing, making you smile as he pulled you into his arms. “Fuck- so good,” you said, curling into his chest and placing soft kisses on them. 

Jungkook found your kisses intoxicating. They were making him dizzy, but maybe that was just a testament to how good your kisses were. You smirked triumphantly when you noticed that he, like many, fell into a deep sleep when you pulled your lips away from him.

And he would stay that way for a while. 

“This fucking moron,” Jimin cursed as he got out of his car. It had been a day since Jungkook left on his stupid adventure. He hadn’t called or returned home since telling Jimin that he was with a female who kept him occupied.

The fact remained, he willingly entered an alleged haunted house. Anything could have happened to him…

Jimin stepped out of his car and glanced at the manor suspiciously. Why would anyone in their right mind ever venture into this house that was beyond eerie and looked like it was straight out of the multiple horror movies Jungkook frequently watched. 

The thick fog made it hard to see, but he swore that the ground he was walking on was smooth until he tripped. While Jimin was prone to falling off most objects, the ground was even, so why did he stumble and graze his knee, and why did it almost feel like he was pushed? He looked around but saw no one. 

Jimin shook his head, cursing when he saw his knee bleeding. He hissed in pain as he got up on his feet, only to jump in fear when he felt a hand on his back. 

“Hi,” a small voice spoke from behind him, the voice filling the silence of the forest, and Jimin swore his heart nearly stopped. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, and perhaps he could go on with the rest of his life without wondering if Jungkook was fucked and killed by a demon. 

“Fuck!” Jimin yelled, panting hard as he placed his hand over his chest to steady his erratic heartbeat. 

“Jesus, who are you?” Jimin asked you. There was something about you, he thought. Something ethereal and angelic. It was almost as if you were glowing. However, he didn’t dwell on it for too long. It was a forest, and it was foggy. It could have just been his eyes. 

“Y/N,” you said, and Jimin nodded slowly.

“Are you following me or something? Who else would come to the Hill Manor?” Jungkook asked, staring at you, and you let out a soft laugh that Jimin could have sworn sounded like music, like a choir of angels singing. But there was a hint of something more sinister in your laughter. Again, Jimin didn’t dwell on it for too long. After all, ghosts didn’t exist for him. 

“I manage the Hill Manor, so I feel like I should be asking you what you’re doing here. Anyway, what’s your name?” You asked, and Jimin smiled, replying. 

“Jimin.” 

You smiled, blushing. 

“You must be Jungkook’s friend. Jungkook described you so well and spoke about you nonstop,” you lied. 

“He’s- uh, recovering. Why don’t you come in, and I’ll get you a band-aid for your knee?” You suggested continuing your lie, and Jimin nodded. 

You seemed harmless, and you smirked as Jimin followed you into the manor. You did the same thing with Jimin, flirted, fixed his grazed knee, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, saying how good of a friend he was, and that was enough. 

If a man kissed you, they’d be fine. But if you initiated the kiss on any part of their body, that was when they would fall under your spell, enraptured, bound, and kept. 

The first step was to establish some physical contact, and you did that by pushing the men down the minute they stepped towards the manor. 

Then you would appear. Act as a regular Florence Nightingale and try to heal their wounds, and then, once you are done, you would make them fall deeper with each touch. 

And with every touch, the poor souls would forget why they were ever in the manor to begin with. 

All they’d know is that they wanted to spend their time in the manor ravaging you, and you would let them, gladly. 

And when you were done with that, you would kiss them. A final kiss, a kiss which had the magic to put them to sleep as you moved them into another room. 

A room where all your lovers and conquests would stay, be well fed and taken care of. But they could never leave, and if they tried, then you shuddered to think what would happen. You hated to ever kill one of those handsome, gullible men. 

Which is precisely what you thought when you moved Jimin to his private room. He could never leave, but only you could enter. There were seven rooms in the house for this purpose, and you would take your sweet time filling them. 

It made you laugh at times. All the signs were there, the old whiskey, the portrait that had your face on it. 

It was your manor. You ruled it and haunted it. 

You were left heartbroken by a man once—well, several centuries ago. But with the perks of being an immortal and a succubus, you decided that you would get rid of the wings, and the tail, and adopt a more modern look and lure men in. 

No man was ever going to leave you, you’d ensure it. You smirked as you locked Jimin’s door and checked in on Jungkook as he was still sound asleep. You knew he had five other friends, and one by one, you will capture them all and keep them. 

Had they been wise, they would have paid attention to the rumours because, indeed, there was no way to leave once you entered this house. They were all yours. 

“All mine,” you said, caressing Jungkook’s soft face as you closed his door and took his phone to message his friend Taehyung. And once he texted that he was once his way, all you had to do was quietly wait by the forest, trip him up, and you’d have another one. 

In the end, you could say, “Finally, they’re all mine.”

[carleiin]

ranpo loves your eyes.

˗ˏˋ sypnosis 'ˎ˗ — reader likes ranpo, but she's a little too obvious with it!!

˗ˏˋ content 'ˎ˗ — ranpo x smitten!reader, SFW, fluff, lots of teasing, love confession, bulleted

To be frank, Ranpo didn't really need an assistant. But if he were to pick, he'd be glad it's you. You're so fun to be around! You follow along with his endeavors, even attempt to conduct your own agenda contributing to the masses.

He undeniably loves your eyes and he's not shy to show it. From praises to full on call-outs, you know full well he can read you just like a book from them.

Sometimes, he stares into them just so he could see you bashfully look away. He sees that subtle glint of curiosity within them when you peer at his usual grinning expression, and of course, his favorite: your adoration for his excellence.

You're so cute. Ranpo finds the way you hesitate to speak more in fear of sending unecessary signals to him was absurd. He knows! It's obvious you have a crush on him! He's the greatest detective after all. Most of all, he doesn't mind one bit.

He doesn't like being decieved.. or attempted to be decieved— so he'd hate to lead you on if he wasn't interested. It seems that your eyes speak more than your mouth because whenever you look at him, he always feels a magnetic pull to never look away from you, ever.

It's taking such a long time for you to actually gain courage and make a move. So instead, Ranpo came up with a grand solution: send the signals you needed for confirmation instead!

He would ask you to hold his hand just so he could scurry around to different stalls after one successful mission. Of course, you'd comply albeit hesitant. That's weird. You take notice that whatever circumstances he may be in, he doesn't let go. Ranpo would be given food and gifts, your hand would be left unattended; being hung around the air. However, no longer than 15 seconds, Ranpo takes it back to his own once again.

It's nice. You like holding his hand. On the other hand, it starts to grow on the young detective too. There it is again.. that really pretty look on your expression. You're so expressive. Glossed with abundance of your natural optic hues, your lips twitch into a very soft smile. This doesnt escape his observant eyes. Really, nothing escapes his observant eyes.

Before you could say something, he already opened his mouth. "Ah." He mumbles under his breath, his gaze never leaving yours. You start to get nervous, a churning sensation surging through your stomach. Is something wrong? Did you do something? Is everything okay? A question piles after another question— but before you could act, he cuts you off with a hearty laugh— one full of joy.

Ranpo calls out your name, catching your utmost attention.

"Keep holding that, okay? Until tomorrow— heck, even the whole week!" Ranpo exclaims, taking you in by surprise. "The Great Detective's grasp is yours!"

He says that with so much pride and confidence, you feel like you'd melt on the spot. Refusing, you attempt to explain that it would hinder his work.

It looks like you're only persuading a brick wall, though. Cause no matter what reasons you give him, he still has that grin on his face. You sigh, and admit a silent, inevitable defeat.

He finds the way you softly gaze at him super lovely. Can you do it more often?It's like his go-to candy. When you'd start to shift in your place restlessly, he can't help but find amusement in your current delimma.

But in his recent observations, today might be the day.

"Oh stop it, you.." you suddenly utter, a warm hue on your face. The blood reached all the way up to your ears as you avert your gaze. Ranpo didn't realize he was staring at you for far too long. Who wouldn't? You look lovely. You look lovely to him everyday. The detective grins, asking what's wrong.

"You know already, don't you?" It was a question he didn't anticipate but the answers stays the same. Yes. He knew. For a long time. But what he didn't see is that you must've known as well. You know Ranpo loves seeing you fumble around your words when he gets close, and you knew that he finds the way you pamper him very dear. He's made it clear to you, many times.

You aren't his assistant for no reason. You aren't for show, that's for sure. Ranpo replies, seemingly unbothered. "What do you want to make out of it?"

You only slump in defeat. There's no winning this man when it comes to wits. Especially when Ranpo knows you like the back of his hand. You lay your genuine thoughts gently.

"I like you, you know. It's almost agonizing. Truly."

Oh. Oh wow. Hold on. Unable to hide his flushed state, he tried to play it off with an obnoxious grin. How absurd! Surely you know his answer by now? Surely you do.

After all, from that gaze of yours— It looks like you definitely do!

i did it 🙄 I wrote something in this godforsaken app. will the bots stop following me now? 😭 anyway!! enjoy Ranpo lovers ♡

[caesthoffe]

to all of the TERFs who are reblogging my post about Brianna Ghey saying, "why would you make this about feminism?" or "wow using a girl's death to further your agenda" i want you to stop and seriously reflect.

it's not about feminism. it's about Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminism. TERF-ism is inherently transphobic. it is all about treating trans women like men based off of right wing talking points under the guise of feminism.

you can call me all the names in the world, it doesn't change that your ideology kills just as many trans and non-binary people as the alt-right.

answer me this: why are all of the biggest TERFs always friends with pieces of shit? JKR is buddy buddy enough with Marilyn Manson that she sent him flowers. an actual predator being sent flowers by a fucking TERF.

i will reiterate what i said in my original post. you all contributed to the transphobic society that allows crimes like this to happen.

you. have. blood. on. your. hands.

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 7: Scavenged

Pairing: Mer Denal x Reader

Summary: A scavenger stumbles upon a different kind of treasure.

Author’s Note: Denal is the clone with blue tear streaks on his helmet from the first two seasons of clone wars. To any other Denal fan out there! Here is my contribution for I could not find a single x reader of this man. Also, I kept thinking about the show Poldark while writing this one.

Warnings: Some blood and vaguely talking about wounds. Some cursing.

Word Count: 961

Prompt: While exploring the wreckage of a huge storm, Character A finds a mermaid on the beach, bleeding and unconscious. Naturally, Character A takes them home and puts them in their bathtub; Character A hopes that they can heal this mermaid back to health. Character B is that mermaid, and the last thing that they remember is being tossed by a huge wave. Waking up, Character B is surprised to find that their wounds have bandaged and Character A is watching them anxiously.

Prompt Mermaid in the Bathtub AU by auideas.

You were a wrecker or, as most referred to you, a scavenger. Before the authorities could arrive on sight, you took as many valuables from crashed ships on the beach as you could. The war had done a lot to keep you better fed than ever before so it was well worth the risk.

A bleeding Mer clone was not part of the agenda. He is bleeding out into the sand and shallow water, unconscious and slowly breathing. His beautiful blue and white fin shimmers in the moonlit water. He’s going to die.

Before you can really think it through, you secure your stolen goods to your back and slowly pick him up. He’s heavy, but you’ve heaved heavier across the sand. Once you see the coast is clear, you are racing for your home, thankful for the rising tide washing away your footprints.

‘What are you doing?’ You mentally scream at yourself. ‘You are a Separatist! You live on a Separatist island. Leave him!’ But you can’t. You don’t know why, but you can’t.

Finally, you run through the front door of your isolated home and kick it closed behind you. You almost collapse right there, but the smell of blood and sea water pushes you onward. You pant as you slowly make your way to the bathtub with the end of his massive fin trailing along the floor. Gently, you set him in before quickly getting your supply of bacta potions.

You work for over an hour patching up as much as you can before filling the tub halfway. The pistol wounds in his left shoulder and right side are nasty, but at least the amo had passed all the way through. However, without a bacta bath, it would take a long time for those shoulder and torso muscles to heal. You flop down on the bathroom floor and just watch him breathe. There is a Mer clone in your tub. Maker, there is a Mer clone in your bathtub.

The last thing Denal can remember is Cad Bane shooting him before falling overboard and being tossed around by a huge wave. He grumbles as he slowly opens his eyes; his body hurt, but not as bad as he expected. His vision swims a little as he moves to sit up more. The pain from his gunshot wounds almost makes him scream, but he grits his teeth. He shuts his eyes tight, wishing it away.

After a minute, he tries to at least look around and finds the world far more still. The first thing he notices is that he’s still in Mer form and in a bathtub. As he looks himself over, he’s more than surprised to find his wounds are already wrapped, but now the question is who wrapped them.

He slowly glances around the room, taking no chances that the spinning sensation will come back. Finally, his blue eyes land on your anxious ones; you both just sit there and look at each other.

With all the insanity of keeping him alive, you now truely look at him. You had seen pictures of Mer clones before, but this man was slightly different. While he had the standard short hair, a pair of blue eyes looked at you curiously. Two thin blue lines were tattooed like a tear trail from the center of each lower eyelid to his jaw. He’s undeniably handsome, but the sharp teeth and claws unnerve you.

“Thank you.” His voice is raspy and he gives you a pained smile, barely holding himself together. The sheer amount of pain he must be in finally clicks.

“H-hold on.” You slowly get up and before grabbing some pain reliever and something to drink. He happily takes it and chugs the water down. It’s quiet for a moment as you both stare at one another.

“I’m Denal.” You smile and give your name in turn. “What happened?”

“I found you in the remains of a ship wreck. This is a Separatist island so you got lucky I found you first.” Denal lets out a sigh in annoyance at his situation and you bite the inside of your cheek not to laugh at him. It’s not that your taking any joy in this; annoyance, like this was only a great inconvenience , just completely caught you off guard. “What happened in the battle?”

“Cad Bane happened.” He ground out before running a hand down his face. “He needed my armor to escape so he knocked me out before putting me in his clothes. He then shot me and… I fell.”

“Stars. That’s fucked up.”

“No doubt of that.” Denal laughed before coughing. You quickly grab the cup again and hand it to him when he’s done.

“Why are you helping me?” His voice was a bit clearer as he set down the empty cup.

“You needed and still need help.” He blinks and cocks his head. “I couldn’t leave you to die.”

“But…”

“Just rest. You can figure out how to leave later.”

“I can shift to…” You shake your head.

“Moving your head is a battle. Your human form can wait. Just focus on making it through the night.” Denal slowly nods, giving in.

What neither of you knew was Denal would stay with you there the rest of the war. It was hard hiding him from the authorities, but his companionship was more than worth it. He felt guilty not going back to Rex and the 501st; however, there wasn’t a way for him to get off the island undetected.

With the news of an ended war and occupying imperials coming, you cast your lot in with Denal and the Mer. You both left for Mandalore before conquering boots hit the beach you once found him on.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

oooh modric?

L U K I T A

(i'm already both struggling with the concept of finding just one favorite photo of him, but at the same time i have a very classic go-to hahaha)

favorite thing about them: uh literally everything? if i was raising or helping to raise a boy, i would use luka as a positive role model for non-toxic masculinity. i just adore him in every way. he's not perfect, but he seems like such a good person who operates with intelligence and humility--at the same time he's tough and no pushover! i love his floofy hair and elf face combined with his Manly Voice and best abs in football (and 3rd nipple vibes hahaha...he has a birthmark on his Tits.). plus, his wife Vanja is the queen of wags and in the family photos they seem to be raising their kids to be normal kids--they're not always posed in instagram ready outfits and express their own senses of style instead of wearing cutesy matching outfits (looking at you rakitic family your kids are TOO OLD for that). his football is so sexy and exciting to watch. i will watch his rm highlights and it's just so!!! imagine a lukita & lamps midfield linkup!

also the #old #man #way he #UsesHashtags #😎

also also i like that he is older than i am...i feel like footballers are all 5 years old these days lol

least favorite thing about them: he plays for one of my least favorite teams :( so i never watch him play, lol. but at least rm (as far as i know) treats him decently as an Ancient Player

favorite line: omg...maybe when he cursed out a slovenian ref, "jebem ti mater slovensku u pičku" (def spelled that wrong) ORRR uh the classic when he wrote "I am fucked" in the comments of his ancient insta post

brotp: like...everyone he meets? luka and kova, luka and carli (tho luka ćorluka is def a valid OTP), luka and MARCELO...idk he just seems to bring joy and sunshine to everyone he meets. no wonder his mom called him "my sun" at one of his awards ceremonies.

notp: with messi

otp: i mean....i mean...

R A K I D R I Ć. my first otp of two footballers. it's everything. after all these years i think it still might be my favorite football ship. it gives lamperry in a sense (though lamperry also gives šejan...Interesting) the way Luka makes ivan feel so good and bright and happy and like he belongs (until it all went to shit.). i wish they could have been together somehow, even though vanja is the rare wag i 100% love lol.

(runnerup: modramos)

random headcanon: uhh...lukita is one of those guys who i think is pretty straight, but has some exceptions.

unpopular opinion: STOP CALLING HIM A FUCKING LESBIAN/DYKE i will literally. what the fuck. it ain't cute and saying a man isn't a man bc he has qualities you like? or somehow associate with femininity? is...don't contribute to the problem guys. thank god i haven't seen much of this recently but like...gurguhg it gets my blood Boiling

song i associate with them: ok this is weird...but the only song that makes me think of lukita is "sin pijama" by becky g/natti natasha, and this is only because dejan had an insta video where he's driving to see luka and singing that song into the camera...apparently he wants to see luka in his bedroom without pajamas? modren agenda

favorite picture of them: actually. i'm going into my Archives and posting two random ones

feat. ms VANJA BOSNIĆ herself

[inastarlesssky]

Okay so here's my actual thoughts about The Crimes of Grindelwald. That last bit was like me processing really quickly what I thought but this is a more...in-depth thing. Not promising a play by play analysis of the plot and everything but what I thought of the story in general and more specifically about the dynamics of Newt + Leta, Newt + Tina, and the Credence plotline.

Okay so last night, I finished Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, and I didn't think it was such a bad movie. Not the best, for sure, but I have seen worse. I was just struck by how much was going on. . .there was the overall Grindelwald's evil agenda and him being a creepy af villain. Kudos to Johnny Depp for pulling off the creepiness. And the costume designers/makeup people. All of that (his appearance, and the man's acting job) contributed to very much "This guy is Bad™ and he won't hesitate for a second to do what needs to be done". Though I am still wondering what the hell happened to his eye to make him look weird like that. Was he born that way? (I haven't read the books but I might one day.)

I liked the escape scene; the rain, and the Thestrals were pretty neat but I might have appreciated some explanation or reference (was it referred to in the previous movie, Abernathy's abilities?) Or was it Grindelwald making it possible to switch places with him in the coach? I mean cinematically, it was kind of neat, but I was really confused. Same with the part, later, when Abernathy shifted from looking like a woman to himself to get inside the Ministry. I'm just used to seeing wizards use wands, given that we see that in HP. Granted, okay, some of them just don't, like Graves/Grindelwald in the first movie when he just did with magic with a swish and flick of his hand...but still.

Then there was the whole bit about Dumbledore enlisting Newt's help to find Credence. Not gonna lie, though I liked Dumbledore a bit in the HP movies, I didn't like the idea that he was foisting off on Newt this job. Newt asks him at one point, "Why can't you do it?" and we later find that he can't fight Grindelwald because of a blood pact. Understandable, but Idk I just feel like Dumbledore just doesn't want to get involved. For whatever reasons that may be (perhaps I'll discover this in the third movie...) Which brings me to the point at the very end of the movie, when Newt brings him the phial containing their blood pact thing. When he asks Dumbledore if he'll destroy it or try to, the latter says, "Maybe, maybe" in a way that seemed very much to me like a "I'll tell you maybe but it's a Slytherin way of saying 'no'." I'm not trying to bash Dumbledore here, trust me, this is just what I think of him from these actions.

This little sideplot of Credence and Nagini...it didn't really grab me. Maybe he really is like this, but Credence just seems very mopy and I'm not sure how to put it....he doesn't really make me feel any particular way about him. Like it's different with Grindelwald and Newt.

Grindelwald:

Okay I see him, he looks like trouble,

Lie after lie spills off his tongue,

He's vicious and all of the above = he's bad and I don't like him.

Newt:

He's a little spacey but he knows what he has to do.

He says he doesn't want to take sides, but his heart is in the right place, and he will devote himself to the good.

He's quirky, he looks quirky and there's just this awkwardness about him that makes him endearing = you develop a soft spot for this guy.

But Credence? I pitied him in the first movie for how he suffered, but I just don't think I understood his character enough in this movie to feel anything more.

Okay, now about Leta and Theseus. I was downright confused about the relationship with Theseus and Newt tbh. In one moment he's hugging him and offering him assistance and then at the Ministry, he looks like he legit wants to kill Newt, and I think Newt even makes a remark about that. But then, at the very end, they hug because well, they've both lost Leta.

As for Leta....I wasn't sure what to think about her and Newt As I said before, there's that flashback to Hogwarts where we see her upset because of the other girls' bullying, and she runs off and finds Newt with a raven chick. Then Newt finds her and takes her to see a Bowtruckle (was that Pickett by the way, or just one of the Bowtruckles that he'd found in that tree there?), and it's sweet because we see just so how tender he is. And he's looking at her with a kind expression, but I didn't get the impression that either of them had anything romantic, really. I think I was just really confused.

The Newt and Tina part of all this....So personal note here--I sort of just initially started shipping them because they looked like they could be a thing. In the first movie, he was sort of just thrown into an adventure with her and they had to figure everything out. The last scene of FB had me thinking, will they, won't they? Then, in CoG, when Queenie tells Newt that Tina thought he was engaged to Leta and thus started dating Achilles, the camera goes to him and I saw him maybe a little devastated, disappointed, at the news. He pretty much visibly deflated, and then we see him looking for how to find her, to explain the truth. Why would he be so desperate to do that if he didn't actually care how she felt about that?

I also picked up on that part when they're in the safehouse, and they're taking care of Yusuf. Whenever Tina calls him 'Mr. Scamander', he just has this look on his face...like he feels the distance she's putting between them. Then there's also the scene in the French Ministry. Newt was basically scrambling to explain to her that it was a mistake, that in his words, he wasn't truly happy or engaged, despite what she thought. I felt like it was pointed, when he said that to her. She asks him "Are you here to win [Leta] back?" and he answers with "I'm here to--" to what? To win Tina back? Maybe.

Newt: Please don't be happy. No, I--sorry, I don't--obviously I want you to be, and I hear that you are now. Which is wonderful. What I'm trying to say is, I want you to be happy, but I don't want you to be happy that I'm happy because I'm not. Happy. Or engaged. Tina: ...

Was this him trying to tell her something? I'm not sure. We don't see much more of them talking like this later in the movie because of everything else that happens. I'm kind of a little bummed about Queenie, though...I mean she was never my favorite character, but I liked her. Except when she crossed over to Grindelwald's side, I was like "No! You're better than this." Jacob was, understandably, upset. As for Leta's fate, that was unfortunate. When she said I love you, that was for Theseus, her fiancee, no? That's what I thought at least.

And in the end, Credence is supposedly Aurelius Dumbledore, surprise. A LOT of stuff happened in this movie that I think could have been either two movies or not stuffing so much into one. Like it had promising points, but it was just too much. At least too much to take in at 11 at night before going to sleep, imo. It wasn't too bad though. I'm looking forward to the 3rd movie!

[shi-daisy]

Requiem

Hello everyone! We're halfway through Tamlin week and I'm still super excited to see what awaits. Everyone has contributed so much and made such beautiful things I'm very proud we're all appreciting the best High Lord 🥺 Today on the agenda, some angst! Because let's be honest ghost themes are always angst *squints at my ghost entry of Ulquihime week* maybe I need to tone it down on the Linkin Park. Anyways, I hope you like!

Tamlin Week- Day 4- Music/Ghosts (Takes place after the death of Tamlin's family)

Requiem

Three weeks and the pain was still as raw as the first night. Everytime Tamlin closed his eyes he could see his mother's lifeless stare and bloodied face. He was trying not to think about it.

Both he and Lucien were walking down the misty cemetery of Rosehall. "Thank you for doing this with me. I'm just worried you might get in toruble."

"Bold of you to think I'd leave you alone at a time like this. Beron won't even notice my absence, I'll stay as long as you want me to." Lucien reassured him.

That was all he needed to hear.

The tombstone was already being overtaken by wild white roses, but the names on it were clear as day to read.

Oisin & Rosabella Evergreen

Former High Lord and Lady of the Spring Court

Tamlin wasn't sure as to why he was doing this. Perhaps it was guilt. Thr guilt he would carry until his last breath for not being able to save any of them, even if they wouldn't have returned the favor.

He took a breath before preparing to play the fiddle, Lucien was settling with his violin too. This was all based on silly superstitions but he at the very least wished to try.

Legends said that one's ghost would be able to visit the world of the living only at their grave. If one had yet to reincarnate then they could listen to their loved ones speak to their graves, leave them presents or maybe even play music.

Tamlin had no connections to ghosts and no magic related to death, but at the very least he wished to do something sweet for his parents. Maybe that would ease his guilt.

Lucien nodded at him when he was ready and they began playing. It was Rosabella's favorite song, as it was what she and her husband danced to on their wedding night. Oisin made a point to have it played it at every Spring Court event.

He thought his parents should at least be allowed one last dance, that is, if they could hear him...If they were still there and had yet to reincarnate.

The pair played the piece as if they were performing for a crowd of thousands instead of hypothetical ghosts. As the final noted neared, Tamlin could feel his eyes water, by the time he finished he was kneeling on the ground crying.

Lucien said nothing as he wrapped his arms around him and tried to comfort his friend. Tamlin clung to him tightly, as if he wanted to melt into his touch.

"I'm here. It's okay, you may let it out."

"Luce."

"Yes?"

"Please promise me you won't leave me too."

"I won't. I swear I won't. You'll have to deal with my ghost following you if I was to pass."

That did get him to laugh. "That's not a bad fate."

"Glad to hear that, though I'd prefer it if we were both ghosts together. We could dance just like your parents did."

"I would much rather dance with you alive. Let's go back in."

The air around them had gotten very cold. Lucien didn't object to going back to the manor. Given that his friend wa still in a delicate state he knew a ball would he too much to handle, but perhaps he could take him to Autumn for a dance at the plaza. That much might be enough to keep him smiling for a while. He was terrified of losing that smile.

Tamlin wrapped his arm around Lucien pulling him close as they walked away. He might've lost his blood family, but his true family was now walking alongside him, and had sworn to stay. He would hold him up to that promise.

He glanced at the gravestones one final time, everything had gone silent after their performance. Only the gentle night breeze could be heard as it passed through the rose bushes.

There was no one there...

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO CATA COSMIA, ZOYA. 🌕

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: clara age: 31 pronouns: any pronouns  ooc contact: blackring004 @ twt other characters in xc: hella (path to nowhere), deren (path to nowhere) & elster (signalis)

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: zoya age: 32 pronouns: she/her & he/him series: path to nowhere canon point: up to date with chapter 13. app triggers: child neglect / gang violence / persecution / themes of self-sacrifice / suicide ideation / forced transformation / body horror.

personality: 

a symbol of justice whose name can evoke either admiration or fear, depending on which side you stand on. the people sought a dependable figure— someone strong and imposing, who won’t hesitate getting blood on their hands. this description fit zoya like a glove, and one she wore with pride. the picture of perfect leadership, however, came at the costly price of an unkind childhood dominated by gangsters and destruction, imprinting violence on her at a young age.

while her raw strength and bold problem-solving methods significantly contributed to her reputation within syndicate, ascending to a leadership position required more than just that. her charismatic and extroverted personality, coupled with a genuine care for the vulnerable, played a crucial role in becoming the legion’s leader.

the person who lies beyond the symbol, however, is an individual few will come to know.

something your muse struggles with: seeing herself as human. your muse’s greatest strength: determination.

history / background:

though the fine details of her early years are obscured by syndicate’s smoke and ashes, zoya’s childhood bore a resemblance to that of numerous children— ruthless and lonely. 

seeking comfort and an end to her suffering, she ventured deep within the storm’s eye, where devastation and brutality walked hand-in-hand.

just as her spirit was at the precipice of shattering, the hand of kindness whisked her away from it all. leggett’s influence remained a steady presence in zoya's life, diligently steering her away from trouble and pain, wishing that someday she would wrap her head around the concept that life was more than just violence. however, the determination of one sheriff to reform the deeply entrenched corrupt system intertwining the government and syndicate's gangsters ultimately proved futile, and his life was cut short— an example for others to reconsider following down the same path as leggett’s. 

having been witness to his death, anguish and rage warped the teen into the embodiment of fury itself. and the destruction the newly born sinner brought about quickly caught the world’s attention. emerging from this chaos as an s-rank sinner and posing as a maximum threat level, she quickly became a prime target wanted by the government and the legion, each for their own agenda.

with the last link that kept zoya away from the path of destruction finally broken, she wasted no time in climbing the legion’s ranks and molding it into the ideal instrument to uproot the entrenched corruption within syndicate and the government.

powers / abilities:

Legion's Arrival — once this is activated, anyone within zoya’s reach will be struck with a sense of dread and get paralyzed for a while. Extreme Violence — functions like a berserker mode, allowing her to inflict true damage to all opponents in her direct AoE. Shackles — while not one of her abilities, they help stabilize and prevent her m-levels from turning into an eldritch horror.

inherent abilities: 

Combat — zoya has trained her body to be a finely tuned weapon of destruction from a very young age, making her a strong and reliable asset in the fighting department. in order to counter any type of enemy, she become an all-rounder when it comes to the martial arts. her main fighting style, however, draws a lot from kickboxing with a lot of freestyling, making zoya an aggressive and unpredictable opponent who will try and overwhelm you with raw strength. Sinner — having survived contact with extraordinary levels of mania and survived it means she's awakened as a sinner. this gives her the upper hand in physical strength, speed and enhanced healing. on the other hand, she's susceptible to mania spikes where she can act erratically, lose her inhibitions or get corrupted to the point of becoming a monster. currently, zoya's mania levels are stabilized at an extremely high threshold. "what does that mean?" she's just a little unpredictable.

Enhanced strength — zoya’s physical damage output easily reaches superhuman levels. so, for example, rupturing the ground with a single punch or stopping a car at high speeds with her bare hands become effortless tasks to her.

Accelerated healing — unless her wounds are inflicted by mania weapons, she’s capable of quickly recovering from severe wounds in a matter of minutes.

items / weapons:

pack of cigarettes.

starting ability: legion's arrival. starting item: pack of cigarettes.

extra:

183cm ( that’s 6 ft in inches i think… i'm not american ).

i love zoya she’s very moe to me “she’s murdered people and she's the former boss of a gang” 🫵 MOE !

she’s a leo and her birthday is on august 12th and i promise this makes sense.

sorry for obsessing over obscure gacha women it will happen again.

discord id: br004.

[james-vi-stan-blog]

How true was it, that James never washed his hands, or was very unhygienic in general? Looking at his fingernails in M&G teaser, it seems like they’re going for the unhygienic look for him. It‘s especially noticeable when he’s smearing blood on George’s face. I know everyone wasn’t super clean in that era, but James was said to be especially dirty by some historians. I can’t remember if he was described as such in the King‘s Assassin, or not though.

IMO, it's possible.

As you said, this is a time period when reckless bathing was regarded as injurious to the health. Which doesn't mean that people didn't bathe, but that hygiene was imagined differently from our time. The question to answer is whether James was more unhygenic than his contemporaries.

AFAIK the only primary source that directly describes James as particularly dirty or never washing is Weldon. Weldon's account (if it was even actually written by Weldon) has a lot of problems with it. (Check out these introductory pages for an idea of what kind of slant is associated with the publication of Weldon's work.) However, the common story that Weldon was dismissed from court and so held a grudge against James when he was writing itself has problems with it. So, Weldon may or may not be accurate; it's got a very pronounced agenda, though.

A single diary entry from Anne Clifford has snowballed through the centuries into an image of James as filthy and lice-infested, but what she actually said was "we were all lowzy by sittinge in Sir Thomas Erskin's chamber", which is a far cry from saying James stunk. Fakehistoryhunter did a deep dive on this. (Though, I do think, based on their closeness, if Thomas Erskine did have lice, James would have, too.)

There's some better evidence than that. George Villiers once signed off a letter to James, "So, craving your blessing, I kiss your dirty hands, Your majesty's most humble slave and dog, Steenie." Does this mean James's hands were especially dirty? It could just be Buckingham's signature saucy writing style to James. He also used a very similar construction once to Charles, "I kiss thy warty hands". So, maybe James was especially dirty, or maybe not.

There's other side contributors I haven't really seen discussed a lot. Like, James had lifelong digestive problems, including bowel problems. This could have contributed to an aura of "grossness" around James. He loved poop and butt jokes (which, idk maybe I'm projecting, but seems very, very normal for someone who has medical issues). James let dogs on the bed. James was always partying at the hunting lodge and drank very heavily, which would heavily feed an air of slovenliness. Etc.

And, you know, we can't forget that historians over the past 400 years have been overwhelmingly homophobic straight men who go "of course James was gross... homosexuality = buttsex = the worst form of uncleanliness there is".

Tudor Times did a long analysis of "dirty James" that's worth reading, too.

So tl;dr my own opinion is "quite probably James was dirty but the popular narrative is exaggerated and we can't trust a lot of these accounts".

[jessamine-rose]

˚ ༻✿ Herbarium ✿༺ ˚

I would like to blame @bye-bye-sunbird​ and @yandere-romanticaa​ for my descent into Capitano hell. All I could do was write my longest fic in hopes of purging the brainrot……yeahh so pls enjoy my humble contribution to the Capitano agenda ;-;

Thank you so much to my dear friend @diodellet​ for peer reviewing this and helping me out with the Genshin lore!! I delighted in watching you suffer  ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, violence, blood, murder, psychological trauma, mention of child abuse, spice, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader described as physically weak and smaller than Capitano, this fic will most likely be considered OOC in a few years

♡ 10.1k words under the cut ♡

i. dandelion

You adore dandelions for the same reason that you despise them.

A tiny flower symbolic of love and freedom. The ethereal ghosts of golden petals adored even—or perhaps only—after losing their vibrant, sunlike forms. A soft blow is all it takes to breathe new life into the flower, for the seeds to embark on new journeys in a scatter of liberated parachutes and hopeful wishes.

Not all dandelions have the fortune of finding new homes, however. Some are plucked for human purposes and imbued with new value as sentimental gifts. Many are transformed into entirely different products such as food and wine. Others are simply forgotten, doomed to remain in their original area until death finally claims them. Regardless, dandelions are transient like any other flower and will eventually disappear from the world.

Your flowers are deprived of that fate.

The meadow is deserted again. Most of the dandelions are gone, either plucked or dispersed, but you are able to find an untouched patch of puffy white clouds. The seeds shift ever so slightly in the wind but remain anchored to their florets.

You choose two promising puffs and snip the stems.

The dandelions land on the pages of your notebook. You cover the flowers in parchment paper and slam the book shut.

A twig snaps.

Your first instinct is to protect your notebook. You hug it to your chest and turn around, preparing for the worst.

The source of the noise is easy to spot. At the edge of the meadow, just a few feet away from you, stands a tall, imposing figure. His face is completely imperceptible within the black void of his mask. The only physical feature you can deduce is long black hair. He has a Vision.

He doesn’t say anything. But the nod in your direction is proof that he has seen you.

His menacing appearance…have the Knights of Favonius introduced new uniforms? No, his armor does not bear any familiar crests or designs. A foreigner, perhaps?

You clear your throat. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Are you here for the Windblume Festival? The festival ended yesterday.”

“I have other business in Mondstadt.”

Definitely a foreigner. He has a somber voice.

“You chose a good time to visit this meadow,” you tell him. “It becomes a popular place for flower-picking during Windblume. I had to wait for the festivities to end before I could revisit.”

He doesn’t enter the meadow. “You did not pick flowers for the festival?”

“No.” You glance down at your notebook. “I have no one to offer flowers to.”

“Not even to the Anemo Archon?”

“Not even to Barbatos. I don’t make offerings to any gods, for that matter.”

What difference would it make?

The stranger is silent. Either he is caught off guard by your sudden curtness or he is the type to avoid meaningless chatter.

You sit down and face the dandelions, effectively ending the conversation. The stranger walks away and peace is restored in the meadow.

ii. windwheel aster

The stranger is standing in your meadow.

The meadow, you correct yourself when you first see him. It is not your private garden.

He is a dark shadow against the colorful flowers. If he were less considerate, he could easily stomp on them and leave crushed petals in his wake.

He has a companion, a masked person of average height. Judging by their lowered head and the nervous Sir’s leaving their mouth, they must be a subordinate.

The subordinate’s Vision flares as soon as they notice you. But one nod from your acquaintance convinces them to let you enter.

You walk past them and sit under your favorite tree, whispering a hello as the barest of acknowledgements.

Neither of them approach you.

You open your bag and take out your library book. Lisa had recommended a collection of dark fairytales, perhaps as a last-ditch effort to socialize with her coworker. You have to give her credit for taking note of your favorite genre.

One of the pages is torn.

You read it anyway.

You hear two sets of footsteps. The noise gradually softens until it is completely muted by the rustling of leaves.

You look up from your book. The strangers have left.

✿ ⚘  

Growing up, you had been partial to parallel play. It was the most efficient way to share space with your roommates after too many failed attempts at bonding and sharing toys. None of you could have been judged given your limited personal belongings.

You and your mysterious acquaintance have wordlessly entered a similar agreement.

You continue your daily routine of reading in the meadow after work. Every few days, the stranger walks past the meadow and stays there for a few minutes. Neither of you approach each other.

A week after your first meeting, you find a windwheel aster with only four petals.

You take out your notebook and add the flower to your personal collection. The stranger arrives.

Why is he here?

Until now, you haven’t been able to discern his identity nor the purpose of his visit. If he is in Mondstadt for suspicious reasons, you likely would have been eliminated during your first or second meeting. And neither has he attempted any form of interaction which could have made a convincing alibi out of you.

His presence doesn’t bother you at all, though.

You glance at the other flowers. There are no more unique plant mutations, so you instead pick a small bunch of ordinary windwheel asters and approach the stranger.

“Would you like one? These are windwheel asters. They only grow in Mondstadt.”

He accepts them. “You come here almost everyday. Are you fond of flowers?”

“You could say that.” You turn around to overlook the meadow with him. “Wildflowers are beautiful and diverse. But you can’t keep them as you do with normal belongings—they die quickly and there is no way to put your name on them. So I try to preserve them as naturally as possible.”

“How so?”

No change in demeanor. But the fact that he asked means his interest could be genuine.

“Here.” You walk closer to his side and open your notebook. “My own personal collection. I just press the flowers in my notebook and label them.”

Your acquaintance leans down to read over your shoulder. The chains of his helmet make soft clinking sounds.

You flip through the pages and provide brief descriptions for each flower. Dandelions, Sweet Flowers, Cecilia, Dragonspine mint. Your collection is small, limited only to the local flora of Mondstadt. By the time you reach the four-petaled windwheel aster, you belatedly realize that you had forgotten to cover the front page.

You had written “Property of ______” in bold letters.

Well, introductions are long overdue.

“It is a peaceful and appreciative hobby,” he finally comments. “Are you interested in gardening or botany?”

“No. I just like to own flowers.”

His tresses brush against your cheek.

“My name is ______,” you whisper. You look up expectantly.

Even up close, his face is perfectly concealed by his mask.

“You may call me Capitano,” he replies.

“All right.” You lower your head. From the corner of your peripheral vision, you notice that he is still holding the windwheel asters. “It is nice to make your acquaintance, Capitano.”

iii. cecilia

Your meetings with Capitano continue. Not much has changed—you still devote time to reading and Capitano leaves when he feels like it. But his company is pleasant. He doesn’t demand much from you and he seems genuinely interested in your flimsy hobbies.

His answers to your questions are vague. But he does inform you that he is based in Snezhnaya and that he is scheduled to leave Mondstadt in a few weeks. That piece of information immediately sparks your curiosity about his region’s local flora and literature.

“I learned how to read in Snezhnayan by myself,” you tell him, “but it is still difficult for me to read the original literature. If it doesn’t bother you, can I please request your help in translating a few pages?”

“It would not be an inconvenience,” he replies.

The next day, you borrow two Snezhnayan classics from the library. Capitano’s manner of speaking is too serious for emotional dialogue and flowery language, but it is still better than your own reading voice.

✿ ⚘    

Given Capitano’s seeming disinterest in tourism, you regularly give him pressed flowers to bring home as souvenirs. Mondstadt specialties ranging from dandelions to Small Lamp Grass to Cecilias which you had picked on your day off from work.

“Cecilias grow on Starsnatch Cliff,” he notes during one exchange. His grip on the pointy white flowers is loose, as though exerting any more force would crush your carefully preserved gift.

No, it actually would.

“You need not put yourself in harm’s way for my sake.”

You only shake your head. “I’ve been to Starsnatch Cliff a few times. It is a nice change to my schedule. Besides, I only got attacked by a Whopperflower once.”

“...Your dedication is commendable.”

✿ ⚘ 

His silence is more appreciated on your bad days.

During one of your library shifts, your former foster brother visits you to announce the news of his parents’ deaths. Any glee, satisfaction, or indifference is overtaken by the terror of his arrival.

Lisa states that you look “unwell” and allows you to leave work early. But the well-meaning gesture only results in you getting cornered by your gossipy neighbors and falling off your bed from a vivid nightmare.

In the end, you stick to your schedule and go to the meadow.

If Capitano has noticed your gloomy behavior, he is kind enough to not ask about it. Instead, he breaks the silence in your place.

“During our first meeting, you informed me that you do not make offerings to the Anemo Archon and other gods. May I ask why?”

The dandelion patch is empty. How long until the new flowers start growing?

“The gods have never responded to my prayers,” you reply. “No matter how many wishes I made, my life didn’t change the way I wanted it to. So I stopped hoping.”

You glance at Capitano’s Vision. A powerful gift for those worthy of the gods’ recognition.

“Your region worships the Cryo Archon. Are you religious? Has she granted any of your prayers?”

“I fulfill the wishes of the Tsaritsa,” is his cryptic response. “That is my mission.”

“Okay. If that makes you happy.”

Different regions have different relationships between Archon and follower. Perhaps if you had been left in the care of another region, your hope would have persisted.

“Would you like to visit Snezhnaya?”

That question draws you out of your stupor. “What?”

Capitano continues speaking. “Snezhnaya is a land of perpetual winter but there is a certain charm to it. I believe that you would take kindly to the local flora.”

Snezhnayan flowers. You only know a few species from the library books and what Capitano has told you. They are supposed to be resilient plants capable of withstanding cold temperature and harsh weather.

So unlike the flowers of Mondstadt.

You look around the meadow. “I doubt that I would ever get the chance to visit. But if that ever happens, can I depend on you to be my tour guide?”

“The honor is mine.”

iv. calla lily

You almost forget that your time with Capitano is limited. After two months of conversations in the meadow, he suddenly announces his departure.

“My business in Mondstadt is over. I shall leave for Snezhnaya tonight.”

It sounds like a formal announcement coming from him.

“...I see.”

You stare at your bag. You had preserved calla lilies this time. Only the prettiest ones with bright orange petals.

Did you preserve them properly? Will he take care of your gifts?

Capitano is looking at you. Until now, the face beneath his mask remains a mystery to you. If he is saddened by his upcoming departure, you wouldn’t be able to tell.

Would he feel sad about going home, though?

“Here.” You take out the parcel of pressed calla lilies and present it to him with a halfhearted flourish. “I guess this is my final gift to you. Do take good care of it.”

“Thank you.” His hand brushes against yours. His touch is cold. “Your hospitality has been greatly appreciated.”

You only shrug. “There is no need to thank me.”

“I shall do my best to return the favor.”

Capitano’s hand encloses around your wrist.

Tight. His grip is too tight.

The calla lilies fall to the ground.

“Ca…Capitano?” you whisper. “The flowers…I dropped them.”

He is holding your wrist. One wrong move and he could easily dislocate it.

“Could…could you please let go?”

His grip only tightens.

“Your wrist is as fragile as it looks,” he tells you. “So small and delicate. If someone or something were to attack you, I doubt that you would be able to defend yourself.”

Let go. Please let go. Why isn’t he letting go of you?!

“Even mentally speaking, you have a weak disposition. The joy and freedom so valued in Mondstadt is lost on you. If my division were to raid your city, you would be one of the first to accept defeat. I doubt that you would make yourself useful to any resistance.”

Stop talking.

Capitano pulls you forward. It is only a light tug but with enough force to have you crash into his chest. His free hand caresses your face.

“Though it cannot be helped, given your circumstances. And you are far too precious for me to allow any more harm to befall you.”

Just stop.

You slap his hand away from your face.

“Stop! Get away from me!”

Your throat hurts. When was the last time you raised your voice?

He doesn’t even flinch. “I would be careful if I were you, darling.”

“Just shut up! What could you possibly know about me?” you snap.

“Enough to know that you must be handled with extreme care.” At that, Capitano raises your captive wrist and presses down on your pulse. “After all, the Maier family and Mondstadt Orphanage are to blame for your melancholy.”

Your blood runs cold.

You had never told him about your past. The adoption records should have been burned after you were sent back.

Capitano…who is he? How long has he been collecting information about you?

“This is the first time I have seen you so expressive,” he muses. He sounds almost awed. “It is reassuring to see that you still have an iota of self-preservation left in you, ______.”

“Capitano.” Your voice comes out small. “What…what are you going to do with me?”

He pulls your wrist into his mask. Something soft and warm presses against the back of your hand. A kiss.

“I shall do everything in my power to protect you. And in line with the Tsaritsa’s mission, I vow to create a peaceful world which you may thrive in.”

✿ ⚘  

A Fatui Harbinger. You have been associating with a Fatui Harbinger this whole time.

Forget Capitano’s insane profession of love. That revelation was all it took for you to completely give up on refusing him.

A secret mission. His suspicious attire. The subordinate who was ready to eliminate you for merely being in the same space as them. His inhumane strength.

How could you have been so naive?

He only lets go of your wrist once you enter the carriage. The masked subordinates do not acknowledge you; they just bow to Capitano and inform him that your belongings have already been packed.

He knows where you live. Did he follow you to your dormitory? Or was it his spies?

The carriage begins moving. You stare at the empty seat in front of you. You don’t want to acknowledge the presence to your left or the dull ache in your wrist.

Your former foster parents. How did they die again? Their son said that he came home to find the house completely trashed and their bodies lacerated beyond recognition. The Knights of Favonius still haven’t found the murderer. Was it him?

Capitano is completely silent. Giving you time to process your thoughts, maybe. How kind of him.

Capitano is a Fatui Harbinger. He can easily cover up your disappearance. No one will come looking for you.

Through the window, you can see the passing scenery of Mondstadt. The sky is turning dark. The Small Lamp Grass is already in full glow. Will you ever see those flowers again?

He could hurt you if you disobey.

The carriage stops.

Dornman Port is completely deserted. The cheerful sailors and travelers are nowhere to be seen. What you see instead are more Fatui agents surrounding a large ship.

“______. It is time to leave.”

Capitano taps your wrist. The mere action triggers a sharp sting of pain. You can already feel a bruise forming.

Be good. That is all you need to do to survive.

You follow him out of the carriage.

v. sweet flowers

Snezhnaya is too cold.

The region is even more frigid than Dragonspine. Your new coat is practically useless. You are surprised that you haven’t frozen to death yet.

The view from the carriage is just as unwelcoming. You can’t tell the difference between the sky and the ground. All you can see is swirling snow.

“______. If you cannot bear the cold, you should inform me immediately.”

Capitano’s hand rubs your back. The gesture only makes you shiver.

“I’m fine.” You give up on the window view and turn to face him. “Snezhnaya is just colder than I had expected.”

There is barely any space between the two of you. You could easily move to the other seat but Capitano had stopped you. At least it is warmer by his side.

“Mondstadt is blessed with a gentle climate, but Snezhnaya is not as forgiving,” he replies. “You are already in frail condition from the voyage. A steady recovery is preferable.”

Ah, yes. For the majority of the trip to Snezhnaya, you had been bedridden due to a cold and seasickness. Your only consolation was that it gave you an excuse to rest and ignore your captor. You had more time to process your situation and prepare for the worst.

The carriage stops.

“We have arrived. Get up.”

You are quick to leave the carriage this time.

A manor located in the middle of the woods. If not for your situation, you would have been thrilled by the sense of privacy.

You turn to Capitano. “This is…your home?”

“Ours,” he clarifies. You can vaguely make out the puffs of air leaving his mask. “Your belongings shall be delivered shortly. But until then, you must rest.”

No neighbors. No noise. And no chance of escape.

✿ ⚘  

For the home of a Fatui Harbinger, the manor is surprisingly ordinary.

You are quick to leave Capitano’s side as soon as you step through the front door. The manor is furnished with only the barest of necessities. Considering your captor’s livelihood, he probably doesn’t spend much time at home to begin with.

But it is warm. Someone must have lit the fireplace before you arrived.

“Capitano?” You turn around, coat in hand. “Can I…?”

He took off his mask.

Capitano simply stares back at you. “Do you need anything?”

He has a human face.

That revelation shocks you more than anything. After weeks of viewing Capitano as a faceless helmet on a strong physique, you had forgotten that he was…likely a human.

The scars are not a surprise. What actually scares you is the look in his eyes.

If looks could kill, it would have been death at first sight for you.

You look away. “I would like to look around the manor. Are there any rooms I shouldn’t enter?”

“All of the doors are open to you.” He hangs his coat and walks past you. It is his next words that make you flinch. “Going outside is forbidden.”

“O…Okay.” You hang your coat and rush to the staircase.

✿ ⚘  

The first thing you check are the doors.

All of the doors lock from the inside. To keep people out.

You breathe a sigh of relief and continue your self-guided tour.

A closet at the end of the hall. A few armories. Bathroom. Office. Empty guest rooms. Locked doors. Bedroom.

The bed is big enough for two. One of the closets is empty.

You inspect the desk instead. There is a tall stack of hardcover books, a set of fountain pens, and—most out of place—a single Sweet Flower tied to a glass vial.

Wait, those books…you’ve read them before.

As a matter of fact, you had borrowed all of those titles from Mondstadt Library.

You pick up the heaviest book. Sure enough, it is the dark fairytale collection you had been reading during your second meeting with Capitano. The pages are perfectly pristine.

The contents of the vial are easy to recognize. Sweet Flower cough syrup for your cold. The fresh flower is an unnecessary accompaniment.

You shake your head. They were just as kind to you when you first moved in.

Regardless, you open all of the books and scribble “Property of ______” on the front pages. The cough syrup is treated with more suspicion; you take a sip and wait for any strange effects before you finish the vial.

Lastly, you take your notebook out of your bag and press the Sweet Flower between its pages.

vi. rose

You eventually develop a new daily routine in Snezhnaya.

You wake up early at around the same time as your captor. The two of you eat a silent breakfast in the dining room. Then Capitano puts on his mask and you accompany him to his workplace.

The carriage rides to Zapolyarny Palace are always quiet. To pass the time, you stare out of the window and do your best to hide your shivers, if only to deny Capitano the chance to share body heat. You only speak when you are asking brief questions or responding to him.

You’ve essentially returned to your old dynamic.

As soon as you enter his office, you rush to the window seat and turn to your books. At that point, Capitano leaves you alone so he can sign papers at his desk, deal with subordinates, or train his soldiers in another room. You retreat into the books—either your own labeled gifts or those borrowed from the Fatui private library—and transport yourself to imaginary worlds far beyond your reality.

If Capitano is bothered by your attitude, he is doing an excellent job at hiding it.

✿ ⚘  

As it turns out, there is a limit to his patience. You quickly learn that on the day he walks over to your window seat and seizes your book.

“Hey!” You react instantly, standing up to retrieve it. “What do you want?”

“Your bibliophilia has become severe as of late.” Capitano lifts the book high above your head, rendering it irretrievable for you. “Your eyes require sufficient rest.”

That’s mine. “I was already an avid reader before I met you.”

“There is a difference between reading for your personal enjoyment and reading as a means to avoid me.”

Stupid child.

He stares down at you. Despite his mask, you can feel the piercing glare directed at you.

What makes you think that he would just want you to listen and be quiet?

You lower your head. You don’t want him to look at you like that. You shouldn’t provoke him any further. “I’m sorry.”

“The fault lies with me for failing to adequately reciprocate your hospitality in Mondstadt. Forgive me.” Capitano tilts your face upwards. His touch is gentle. “Tomorrow, we may visit the capital of Snezhnaya.”

You blink at him. “Really? I…we can go out?”

“Humans require sunlight and fresh air for nourishment, similar to flowers,” he replies. “Locking you up would have an adverse effect on your physical state.”

✿ ⚘    

Your promised tour is nothing special. You can’t tell if it is due to Capitano’s status as a Harbinger, the fact that you aren’t the touristy type to begin with, or the awkwardness between the two of you.

There are also the whispers.

“Is that…?”

“Yes, that is Il Capitano and his wife.”

“They make an odd couple.”

“...pretty…downcast eyes—shh, he looked at us!”

Back in Mondstadt, some had already taken note of your despondency and asocial tendencies. But these observers were limited to your coworkers and neighbors. Despite their noise, they had approached you with nothing but friendliness and concern.

The curiosity of the Snezhnayans is a different matter. To them, you are a mysterious outsider whose frail, melancholy countenance invites rumors of the Captain’s preferences.

And you are to be viewed from a distance, lest they incur the wrath of a Harbinger.

Their fear is not a problem. You just wish that they weren’t so noisy.

The final part of your tour makes up for it, however. The one benefit of living in seclusion is that the woods practically belong to you. The Snezhnayan flowers are bright spots of color in an otherwise dreary snowscape.

“I didn’t know that roses could be found in this region. Or that they can bloom in the winter, for that matter.”

This is your first time to see a real rosebush. The flowers are in full bloom, pure white petals preserved under a layer of glittery frost. Did the encyclopedias say anything about roses growing in Snezhnaya? Could it be artificially planted?

You turn to Capitano, waiting for his explanation. He had let go of your hand as soon as you entered the forest. Perhaps he is confident that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

At any rate, you are grateful for the chance to roam freely and approach the flowers.

He is still standing a few feet away from you. “You told me that you have never seen roses before. How does the real flower compare to the pictures and descriptions?”

“They’re beautiful. The imitations don’t do them justice.”

Mondstadt Library used to be the only place where you could see roses. The illustrations and Lisa’s sculpted accessories had only copied their surface-level appearance.

The petals are too frosty for you to feel their natural texture, but you do feel the sharp thorns through your gloves. You snip three roses, thorns included.

You can hear Capitano’s footsteps. “There are flower species which grow only in remote parts of Snezhnaya. We may visit those places some other time.”

“That would be pleasant.” You can’t help the small smile on your face. “Thank you.”

Smiling has always been difficult for you. But it is easier when books and flowers are involved.

“Does Snezhnaya live up to your initial impression?”

“The flowers are lovely. I just need to adjust to the climate, I guess.”

“Is that all?”

Capitano is standing right beside you.

You look at the roses in your hands. “Yes. You…you saved the best for last.”

The sky is already turning dark. Your tour will be over soon.

You look ahead and continue walking. The road ahead of you is practically infinite; how long would it take to reach the end of the woods? How many flowers are still waiting for you?

Capitano grabs your arm.

The rose thorns dig into your skin.

What did you do this time?

“This is the farthest you can go,” he tells you. His tone has completely changed.

His hand is so cold.

“I’m sorry!” you stutter immediately. “I just wanted to look for more flowers. I didn’t…”

He only sighs. The sound echoes within his helmet.

“You are only allowed to roam the woods under supervision. That is unnegotiable.”

The thorns have ripped through your gloves. Your grip on the roses tightens and another stab of pain shoots through your hands. But it feels better than the sensation on your arm.

“And do not think of running away,” he adds sternly. “There are many dangers in the woods. You would freeze to death before you find your way out.”

“I understand.” You turn around, legs shaking.

His other hand catches your wrist.

The action is even more sudden. A pathetic whimper escapes your throat as you drop the roses, a new wave of apologies on the tip of your tongue.

“You should be more careful when handling the roses.”

Huh?

Capitano lets go of your arm and carefully removes your glove. The blood has already flowed out of your hand and seeped into the fabric.

“Does it hurt?” His voice is softer.

What does his face look like right now?

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt that much,” you lie.

“You could get an infection. Your wounds must be treated immediately.” Capitano picks up your fallen roses and puts two in the pocket of his coat. He holds up the last one. “Do you still want this?”

The petals are tinged with scarlet. One could mistake it for a natural red rose.

For a few seconds, you just stare at the ruined rose in his hand. Then you nod.

It is simply a more extreme display of ownership. You just need to be careful when you add it to your notebook.

vii. mint

After three months in Snezhnaya, Capitano leaves for another mission.

“I have business in Inazuma. The mission will last a minimum of one month.”

“I see. Good luck.”

What kind of business? At least a month?

You stop yourself from asking.

Your captor is in charge of the Fatui’s military division. While his business in Mondstadt was relatively diplomatic, he will most likely be fighting in Inazuma. You don’t need to know about the many ways he could end a life with his bare hands.

Capitano is packing his bags. He isn’t bringing much aside from clothes and weapons. “I assigned a guard to watch over you. She will be in the manor at all times.”

So much for a month of privacy.

He looks up from his luggage. Examining your face for any reaction, most likely.

Stop complaining.

Having a supervisor is nothing. He could keep you locked up in the bedroom with only basic necessities. He could bring you to Inazuma and the company of the Fatui soldiers. He could do worse.

It is a good thing that you had given up on escape. If not, your disappointment would have been too obvious.

“Would you like anything from Inazuma?” he finally says. “The nation boasts an impressive selection of souvenirs.”

You glance at your desk.

Earlier this morning, you had rearranged your books—by color, your preferred system of classification—after new reading material was delivered to the manor. Your notebook is open to a page filled with newly-pressed flowers.

He is always giving you gifts. Even if it is his way of showing affection, you don’t want it. You aren’t used to owning so many wonderful things.

You hug your pillow to your chest. “Flowers. You don’t need to go out of your way to purchase any. Just pick any flowers growing in your workplace.”

You can hear the clink of chains. Is he nodding? “I shall pick only the best for you.”

One month. One month away from your captor. It has been so long since you last enjoyed a full day to yourself. A part of you feels anxious about the return to your old routine.

“Will you miss me?”

He pauses.

Huh, you are still capable of speaking out loud at the worst times.

The pillow suddenly looks extremely tempting. But before you can lower your face and muffle your screams, your head is tilted upwards.

You and Capitano are at eye level. The hand on your cheek feels warm.

He is still wearing his mask. You actually prefer seeing him wear it. When his face is concealed, the way he looks at you is a well-kept secret.

But now, sitting on the edge of the bed with Capitano kneeling before you, you can’t help but wonder. What kind of expression is on his face? Is he shocked? Annoyed?

“There is not a single moment when I do not think of you or your safety,” he tells you. He reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers. “Let these be your words of comfort until I return to you.”

✿ ⚘    

Your guard is absolutely unbearable. Because of her, you actually find yourself looking forward to Capitano’s return.

“My lady, it is almost midnight. Is it difficult to sleep when your husband is away?”

You ignore her. Ceres repeats her question.

How did she get assigned to this job?

The Fatui are only marginally better than the Snezhnayans. They rarely approach you or even look at you. Such convenience had been attained the hard way, unfortunately.

-

On your first day in Zapolyarny Palace, you bumped into a soldier in the corridor. Despite you being the one who fell from the impact, they got angry and questioned how “a clumsy weakling like you” was allowed inside Fatui headquarters.

In the middle of their tirade, Capitano left the adjacent room.

It was later rumored that a soldier had passed out in the middle of training. Something about the Captain using them as a live dummy for combat demonstration.

-

Then there was the Eleventh Harbinger. Capitano had attended an appointment with his fellow Harbingers—a rare gathering, apparently—so you had to wait outside their meeting place. When the door finally opened, Tartaglia was the first to leave.

“Oh? You don’t look like you work here,” he said, walking over to you. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Were you listening in on our conversation, little mouse?”

“Um…” You took a step backwards. Were you allowed to speak to him?

“Tartaglia.”

Capitano had exited the room. His hand was on Tartaglia’s shoulder. “For what reason are you troubling my wife?”

“Oh? Is that who you are?” Tartaglia’s eyes lit up. “My apologies! You are different from what I had imagined.”

Capitano’s hand was still on his shoulder. His fingers sunk into the black fur of Tartaglia’s coat. “______, we are leaving.”

He walked away. You followed him.

Tartaglia’s voice echoed into the hallway. “I hope to see you again soon, Capitano! And you too, ______.”

Capitano put his arm around your shoulder. You didn’t resist.

-

The worst case was those two petty recruits. You had just wanted to read peacefully in the library, but they were chatting so loudly that you could hear them all the way from your secluded corner. And their table was a mess of half-opened books.

On instinct, you shushed them and told them to return the books properly.

That sealed your fate. They thought you were the librarian’s assistant and began visiting your spot in the library just to ruin your reading time. You only put up with their behavior because it was still better than reading in Capitano’s office.

One of them put their hand on your shoulder and laughed when you immediately flinched. The next day, Capitano told you that you were staying in the manor.

A nervous guard kept watch over you. When Capitano came back from work, there was blood on his clothes. But the ensuing interrogation was even scarier.

You were no longer allowed to read in the library after that.

-

“My lady, can you hear me? Hello?”

Could Ceres be a spy of some sort? Is she attempting to gain your trust and secrets? Or is she supposed to keep you too preoccupied to think of an escape plan?

You look up from your notebook. “Ceres, is it bothersome living away from home to watch over me?”

“Hmm, not at all. It’s just that my family misses me.” She adjusts her mask and smiles at you. “My parents are always sending letters and packages from home.”

“That must be nice.”

You return to your notebook. Your collection of mint flowers fills the two pages, light blue flowers and green leaves pressed perfectly flat. You try to ignore the ones with yellow leaves.

What is Capitano doing right now?

He could be fighting a battle at this very moment. The thought of him in action, covered in blood, completely unrestrained…you don’t want to visualize that.

At least his violence serves a larger purpose associated with peace, ironic as it may be. You should be thankful that it isn’t mindlessly directed towards you.

Ceres is not satisfied with your brief acknowledgement, unfortunately.

“Everyone is curious, my lady. How did you end up with the Captain? No offense but considering the contrast between the two of you…what did he see in you?”

What was it, anyway?

“None taken. I don’t know, either.”

What does he gain from you, anyway? A trophy wife? A bed-warmer? A babymaker?

No, if he had wanted an empty marriage from the beginning, he wouldn’t be hiding you from the world. And protective moments aside, he scarcely touches you.

Maybe he just pities you. Maybe he wants something to protect.

In that case, he will tire of you eventually. Judging by his trip to Mondstadt, he could have all the time in the world to meet an unfortunate Inazuman and forget about his despondent little wife.

Then what would happen to you?

Best-case scenario, he sends you back to Mondstadt and you go back to your days of barely living. Or he could simply leave you to the cruelty of the Snezhnayan blizzards. Or dispose of you entirely. The world would not give you a second chance.

Ceres is still speaking. Something about love and home and family and aren’t those such wonderful things to have?

No, Capitano is nothing like them. He doesn’t hurt you. He said that he thinks about you often. Despite your refusal to return his feelings, he remains patient.

But it is for those same reasons that he couldn’t possibly be satisfied with a mere decorative flower.

✿ ⚘    

You have a new roommate. Another adorable little brat who catches the eyes of all the prospective parents.

She takes over the garden behind the building. Your garden, the flowers you had planted and nurtured for as long as you could remember. She plucks the dandelions and blows away the seeds, turning your garden into a barren patch of soil.

The matron doesn’t help you. “It is not your private garden, ______. Can’t you share?”

Share your room. Share your toys. Share the flowers you had poured all of your hope and wishes into.

The ground collapses beneath you. You fall into a bottomless pit and the matron only watches.

-

You wake up in cold sweat.

The room is still dark. You can hear Ceres humming in the hallway.

The first thing you check is your notebook.

Your flowers are all safe.

You breathe a sigh of relief and return to the bed.

The mattress feels too big. You are used to seeing Capitano’s side of the bed empty—he always sleeps later than you and wakes up before you. But somehow, it feels wrong when the empty space next to you is cold.

viii. dendrobium

“My lady, the Captain has returned!”

You look up from your book. Ceres kneels before the front door.

“My lord!”

So she does know how to be professional.

You remain on the sofa and stare at your book.

Familiar footsteps. The clink of chains against metal.

“______. Have you been well?” He is standing in front of you.

You keep your head lowered. “Yes. Was the mission successful?”

Capitano kneels in front of you and takes your hand. “I would not have returned until we achieved victory. Did you miss my company?”

His glove is cold from the snow.

“I guess.” You look up from your interlocked hands. “How was Inazuma?”

There is a dent on the side of his helmet. But other than that, he looks perfectly fine.

“Inazuma has changed since the abolishment of the Vision Hunt Decree. You would have enjoyed the region.” He turns to Ceres.

She is still kneeling on the floor. It vaguely occurs to you that she will have new questions and gossip material after this.

“Sergeant Fames, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!” She stands up and leaves.

Just the two of you again.

“I have your souvenir.” Capitano lets go of your hand and gestures to the table.

There are three wooden boxes. You open one and carefully pull out the fabric wrapped inside.

Dendrobium. Three perfect dendrobiums with blood red petals.

“Thank you!” You pick up one of the flowers and twirl it in your hands. The petals and leaves are a vibrant shade of scarlet. You have no doubt that Capitano had an easy time procuring them and you don’t want to ruin the mood by asking. “They’re even fresh.”

“You can preserve them on your own.” Capitano is already taking out the other flowers. “Is my gift to your liking?”

He had even gotten fresh Naku Weed and Sakura Bloom for you. None of them look wilted nor damaged from travel.

“I love it.” You twirl the dendrobium again. You can feel the small smile on your face. “It is absolutely beautiful.”

“I agree.”

Capitano is still kneeling in front of you. You take a deep breath and return the flowers to their boxes.

“Thank you again. Capitano…could you please remove your mask?”

“Pardon?”

You keep your eyes on the table. “You don’t have to. I just want to see your face.”

This is just a way to thank him and show your gratitude.

There is the sound of chains clinking again. His mask joins your flowers on the table.

You look up.

His face is as stoic as ever. You feel small under the weight of his gaze. Perhaps you should’ve gone for his mask instead.

It shouldn’t be difficult.

…

Warm. His lips are warm.

You are quick to break off the kiss. You try to stand up, only for Capitano to quickly pull you towards him.

“You…” His hands are still cold. But at least his grip is light.

“I’m sorry!” You close your eyes. You don’t want to see his face. “I…I just—”

His hand caresses your cheek, preventing you from turning away.

“Open your eyes, ______.” His voice is still calm. That is a good sign, right?

He isn’t angry.

That confirmation alone is enough to make you relax. He cages you in his arms, a gentle look in his eyes.

“If you desire a kiss,” he tells you, “you need only ask for it.”

With that, it is Capitano’s turn to press his lips against yours.

...It doesn’t hurt. Not at all.

You look away as soon as the kiss is over. Your mouth burns. You want nothing more than to pick up your flowers and press them in your notebook.

But will this be enough?

“Capitano.” You have to force the words out of your mouth. “Would you…like to continue this upstairs?”

Just tolerate it for one night. For your sake.

That is all it takes for Capitano to stand up and scoop you into his arms. You spot the faintest of smiles on his face.

“As you wish.”

✿ ⚘  

There are bruises on your hips.

You poke the purplish marks on your skin and wince. Definitely bruises.

How long will these last?

“Does it hurt?” Capitano speaks directly into your ear.

“I’m fine,” you reply quickly. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

The bed is warmer with him in it.

You try not to squirm in Capitano’s arms. He is too close.

“Shouldn’t we get out of bed? You will be late for work.”

“Zapolyarny Palace does not require my presence today.”

So much for escaping The Morning After.

You sigh and flip your body to rest on your right side. You might as well process the full reality of what happened last night.

Capitano has a different look on his face. He looks…relaxed. Peaceful. His gaze is soft.

You glance at his neck. That is when your eyes widen.

Love bites. You didn’t expect your kisses to leave a mark.

His tresses are also tangled. Is it just his usual bedhead or from when you pulled his hair?

You had left your marks on him.

“We should get up.” You sit up, wincing at the chafing sensation in your thighs. “I have to preserve the flowers while they are still fresh.”

“______.” His arm is still wrapped around your waist. “I appreciate the warm welcome.”

No, no, no.

It would have been easier if he was like your previous flings. They didn’t ask you to stay. They didn’t initiate cuddles after the deed was done. They didn’t treat you like glass on a daily basis only to surprise you in the act of lovemaking.

Could you call it that?

You leave the bed and look for your dress. You find it near the door alongside Capitano’s discarded coat. A flash of bright orange catches your eye.

Strange. Capitano doesn’t wear that color.

You put on your dress and glance at him. He is standing in front of his closet, back turned to you. You look away as soon as you see the scratches on his back.

The orange item is tucked into the pocket of his coat. It shouldn’t be confidential if Capitano had just left it there. Upon closer inspection…is that a flower?

You pull it out of the pocket. The flower has been pressed onto a piece of cardstock. It doesn’t look like a flower from Inazuma.

As a matter of fact, it resembles a calla lily.

“______. What are you doing?”

Capitano’s shadow looms over you.

Didn’t you drop it on the day he kidnapped you? Did he ask someone to retrieve it?

“You took good care of your gift," is all you can say.

ix. whopperflower 

It has been colder in Snezhnaya lately.

“My lord, I—oh! Um…I have a report from the Jester regarding your next course of action in Fontaine!”

You don’t blame the secretary for staring. You are sitting on their superior’s lap, after all.

As it turns out, parallel play can be performed even with your new seating arrangement. While you read your books and try to be as still as possible, Capitano has no problem with continuing his desk work.

He has been more physically affectionate since that dearly regretted night. There are new marks over your old scars.

The secretary reads out loud from their report. You open your book.

You are reading a collection of subverted fairytales this time. A twisted assemblage of tragic happy endings and heroic villains and damsels finding love within their so-called prisons. The first story is based on one from the dark fairytale collection Lisa had recommended to you.

She invited you to the Angel’s Share on your last day in Mondstadt. How would your life have played out if you had finally accepted her invitations?

You can feel the rise and fall of Capitano’s chest. His hair tickles your cheek.

Stop pondering on those what-ifs. She would have left you alone eventually. Mondstadt was your own personal tower.

You can still feel the secretary’s gaze on you. You flip to the next page.

Would that make Capitano your knight in shining armor?

…

That is a horrible analogy. You continue reading.

The room becomes silent.

Capitano feels tense. His hand is gripping the armrest so tightly that you expect the wood to splinter. You look up from your book and the secretary immediately averts their eyes.

Did he catch them looking at you?

The tension in the room is unbearable. Even with Capitano’s face concealed, anyone could tell that he is not merely looking in the secretary’s direction.

“Capitano,” you whisper, tapping his hand. You move to stand up. “I’ll go to the library.”

His arm wraps around your waist and pushes you back down onto his lap. You look up in shock, but he is still facing the speechless secretary.

“Did I command you to stop speaking?” he asks them.

They practically jump. “N-No! Forgive me, my lord!”

They continue speaking. You sigh and return to your fairytales.

✿ ⚘    

“Where have you been?”

The air becomes cold. You flinch and close the door behind you.

Your brother is standing in the foyer. “Were you at the library all day again?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly. You lower your head. “Is there a problem with that?”

He glares at you. “I had to do the laundry because you weren’t around. And do you know what Mother said? She told me to redo all of it!”

“And how is that my fault?”

The room spins.

The first thing you register is your brother’s disappearance.

You are inside the closet again. Black ink leaks out of your bandaged wrist and floods the tiny room.

“Brother?” You look around. The door has disappeared.

The ink reaches your waist.

You begin banging on the walls. “I’m sorry! Please let me out.”

The walls close in on you. The ink solidifies.

You are trapped.

Your screams are unanswered.

-

“______? ______.”

The closet disappears. Capitano’s face comes into view.

You sit up, blearily registering the hands on your shoulders. “What…?”

“You were dreaming,” he tells you. “I could hear you talking in your sleep.”

Another nightmare. You must have been loud for Capitano to free you from your dreamscape.

Your hands are still shaking. You close your eyes and take deep breaths.

Just a dream. He can’t hurt you anymore.

“The Maier son is dead.”

What?

You stare at Capitano. His face is completely devoid of emotion.

“Following your disappearance, he suspected you of his parents’ murder,” he explains. “The Knights of Favonius are no longer investigating his family’s case.”

He is still holding you.

What are you supposed to feel in times like these? Joy? Grief? Fear?

“…I see.” You lie down and face the wall. “I’m going back to sleep.”

He just casually admitted to killing someone. Is that supposed to make you feel any better? Does he expect you to thank him?

Your sleep is dreamless.

✿ ⚘    

“______.” Capitano taps your arm. “Are you listening to me?”

You focus on your book.

You don’t want to talk to him. Not after your last nightmare.

He taps his fingers against his desk. “You have been more immersed in your books lately. One may assume that you are using your hobby as a shield once again.”

Just how many people are dead because of you?

“I am not,” you reply curtly. You flip to the next page. “Could you please talk to me later? I am on an important scene right now.”

Your book is confiscated again.

“My—!”

You turn around in his lap. But before you can reach for your book, you are subdued by the light pressure on your waist.

His hand is gripping your waist.

“You are lying,” he accuses, holding up your book. His fingers dig into your flesh. “Chapter III is only the princess’s soliloquy. She does not meet the dragon until Chapter V.”

Your eyes widen.

Has he been…?

You sit properly on his lap this time. Your book is left forgotten on the far corner of the desk.

✿ ⚘    

Six months. Two missions. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase, each book labeled with your own name. Glaze Lilies, Qingxin, Silk Flowers, Violetgrass, purple roses, the petals of a Cryo Whopperflower.

“You even asked for a Whopperflower? My lady, your taste in flowers is truly divine.”

Ceres stands closer to you, one hand hovering over your newly-pressed flower. You slam your notebook shut.

“I didn’t even ask for it. He just gave it to me,” you mutter.

Ceres is undeterred. “Even so, Lord Capitano really goes out of his way to pick flowers for you. I can only imagine the ones he will bring back from Fontaine!”

A mission in Fontaine. Another month trapped in the manor with Ceres.

Hopefully, Capitano returns on time.

“Oh, that’s right! My lady, you came from Mondstadt, right?” she asks you.

“Yes.”

“What is it like? One of my comrades has recently returned from the region; he said that the Windblume Festival is ongoing. It has something to do with flowers, right?”

Has it been that long?

“That is correct. We offer flowers to Barbatos and our loved ones,” you explain. “You can choose any type of flower as your Windblume. Most people choose dandelions.”

“What about you?”

“I have never participated in the festival.”

Ceres grins at you. “Well, you are with the Captain now! You could always celebrate the festival with him next year if he has time for a vacation.”

As if Capitano would allow you.

“There is no need,” you reply. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him any further.”

“For once, I can agree with you.”

Cold. You feel so cold.

You collapse onto the floor. Ice spreads across your skin.

What just…

You try to get up, only for a heavy boot to stomp on your back.

“I didn’t expect you to be this weak. This temperature isn’t even fatal.”

Ceres? She…

Ceres crouches down in front of you, Delusion in hand. The warmth has left her face.

“You know, I was really surprised when I first met you. I was expecting—no, hoping—that you would be different. Someone strong. Someone loyal to the Tsaritsa. Even a simple, happy-go-lucky Mondstadter could have been a good source of motivation. But you…what did the Captain see in you?”

Your notebook is on the floor. Ceres picks it up.

No. Don’t take it.

She rolls her eyes as she flips through the pages. “Preserving useless flowers, reading those fantastical books, staring blankly with the saddest eyes one could ever imagine, causing so much trouble for us.”

It’s mine!

Ceres stands up and throws your notebook aside.

“The Captain does not need someone who will make him weak.”

x. windblume

Your prison is too cramped.

Your head hurts. The restraints are too tight. You can’t see anything in the dark.

They didn’t even bother to use a soundproof cell. You can perfectly hear their conversation.

“Are you crazy?! You did what to the Captain’s wife?!”

Ceres’s voice is deathly calm. “Don’t worry. Lord Capitano has only been in Fontaine for two days. By the time he returns, she will be gone.”

“And if he finds out?!”

“Well, our group is only a small number compared to her previous offenders.” Ceres raises her voice. “How many of our comrades have been reprimanded for simply talking about her? How many were punished for ‘crossing the line?’”

There is barely any space inside this room.

“You should have seen him! Il Capitano kneeling before her as though she were more divine than the Tsaritsa herself. I don’t know how I was able to put up with that sight.”

“Don’t kill her yet.” Her companion sounds desperate. “At least think of a convincing autopsy! Why couldn’t you have just staged a common accident inside the manor?”

Please don’t hurt me.

“Well, that wouldn’t be fun.” You can hear the glee in Ceres’s voice. “You should have seen her face earlier. It was the first time I saw her with an expression that wasn’t so downcast or apathetic. She actually looked alive.”

You hear the sound of receding footsteps. Then silence.

The room is too small.

They will most likely make you suffer through your death.

You are alone.

You bang your head against the door but the action only worsens your dizziness.

Capitano won’t be here to rescue you.

You curl into a ball and close your eyes. The only thing you can do is to block out the world and wait for sleep to claim you.

✿ ⚘    

The meadow is ruined.

Everywhere you look, faceless figures are uprooting the flowers and digging up the soil. They wish upon the dandelions, voices merging into a shrill cacophony of prayers and proclamations. The world becomes a blizzard of swirling seeds.

Stop.

They ignore you. The meadow decays.

You cover your eyes.

Please, this is all I have left.

Quiet. The meadow is suddenly quiet.

You look up.

Dead. They are all dead. Flowers rise from the bloody corpses and burst into full bloom.

A twig snaps.

You turn around.

Capitano is standing at the edge of the meadow, covered in blood.

-

The screams are what wake you up.

So much screaming. The sounds of weapons and Visions being used. The door shakes with a deafening crash.

You drag your body to the deepest corner of the cell.

What is happening?

Another scream.

“Lord Capitano! What about your mission? Have you forgotten your oath to the Tsaritsa?!”

Capitano?

Ceres is still speaking. You can hear her frantic footsteps and the sound of her activated Delusion. Another direct crash against the door.

A loud crack.

Blood seeps through the crack under the door and into your clothes. The smell of iron is nauseating.

The door opens.

“______!”

Warm. So warm.

The light is almost blinding but it is quickly blocked out by Capitano’s figure in the doorway.

His arms are wrapped around you. More blood sticks to your clothes but you ignore it.

“You came back for me,” you whisper weakly.

He holds you at arm’s length, checking you for injuries. His voice shakes with barely-restrained anger. “Where did they hurt you?”

His touch is so light.

As if he is careful to avoid hurting you. As if he is afraid that just the slightest additional force could spell your ultimate demise at his hands.

“______, can you understand what I am saying?” He tilts your face upwards.

You really can’t see anything beneath his mask.

Your vision blurs.

The tears won’t stop.

You almost can’t recognize your own voice. The sounds leaving your mouth are too loud and you have no idea what you are saying. So noisy.

But Capitano’s response is to hug you and carry you out of the room.

You bury your face into his coat and continue crying.

✿ ⚘    

An Anemo healer treats your wounds. They confirm that none of your injuries will leave permanent scars.

Capitano hasn’t let go of you ever since he found you.

You don’t say anything to him during the medical examination. Your throat hurts from overuse and any little remark could raise questions which you don’t have the energy to answer.

The walk from the medical tent to the carriage is completely silent. The Fatui soldiers avoid your gaze and Capitano has nothing to say.

He is still carrying you. You can’t tell if he is doing it for your personal comfort or to send a clear message to his soldiers. Maybe both.

“Capitano?” You poke his helmet.

The chains sway as he turns to face you. “Yes?”

“How did you find me?” you ask quietly. “I thought you were in Fontaine.”

He continues walking. “I enlisted spies to check on you in my absence. Sergeant Fames was not informed, in the event that you convince her to assist in your escape.”

The pain in your throat returns.

Laughter this time. Your cheeks hurt; are you smiling? You feel absolutely euphoric.

Capitano stops in front of the carriage. He waits for you to calm down.

You take a deep breath and look up again, staring into the black void of his mask. “Could you please put me down?”

“...If you run away, I shall capture you immediately.”

“I know.”

The world around you is completely covered in snow. There are no flowers in this area.

You lie on the ground. The cold is less unbearable nowadays. You think you could thrive in it.

The gods have a twisted way of granting wishes. But so be it.

“Capitano.” You stand up, catching yourself before you trip. “I have something for you. Could you lean down for a bit?”

He relents. “Understood.”

You press your lips against his helmet. The metal is cold but the chilling sensation is soon overtaken by the warmth on your wrist.

You have never felt more safe in his grasp.

“...We should depart.” Capitano straightens his posture and holds your hand. “I was successful in procuring two wildflowers from Fontaine before I was notified of your situation. You can add them to your collection later.”

“Thank you.” You intertwine your fingers and look up again.

The smile on your face is reflected in his mask.

“Let’s go home.”

♡

Author’s Note  ๑ Side Story ๑ Epilogues

Afkdfkdendkwdnwka it took me a whole week to write this and I am so glad that this fic is finally done!! I rlly wanted to write something twistedly wholesome about yandere Capitano with a broken darling, hence having to write this long af fic in order to explain Darling’s character and illustrate her descent into complete dependence on Capitano <3

Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic despite the brainrot and suffering. I hope you all enjoyed this, too  (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

[itsmaferart]

SxF ·Mission 38 · · · Is he the final boss?

Context:

After Loid Forger in false search for his daughter's lost keychain, he not only made contact with Damiand Desmond, apologizing for the incident of the past. He manages to get in contact with his target for the first time, Donovan Desmond.

The appearance of Donovan Desmond

I think it goes without saying that Donovan is a mysterious and strange guy, not only because of his strange look, but also because everything in his body language is difficult to interpret. Twilight explains that despite his thorough research he has not found anything relevant enough to create a "profile" of Donovan's personality. However, the objective of the Strix mission is to uncover "the war plans

If Twilight and Yor have a "twinge," it's because something bad is happening with these people.

Interestingly, both Desmonds use the same strategy of "ignoring" in a seemingly polite way, minimizing the fact that their son was beaten. Donovan himself explains that he knew about the fight because his employees informed them, which coincides with Melinda's version. However, both do not seem to want to make a big deal out of the matter, making the apology unnecessary.

Parenthood is… difficult

Is it necessary to describe how sad this page is? The fact that Damiand tries to disguise his pain by saying "it's a foul against the Desmond family name," when his real pain is seeing that his father doesn't care if someone beats him. Without needing to be so explicit, Donovan made it clear that Damiand's integrity is not a priority in the face of his busy political agenda. Clearly, for both Desmonds, continuing to talk about Damiand generates so much discomfort that they get these "inexplicable" expressions of displeasure.

Worst of all, Damiand is paralyzed with fear by the look on his father's face, and decides to swallow his feelings and act as if "it doesn't matter".

It's curious to me, Twilight's serious expression in those panels because his thoughts aren't showing. I know he's obviously sensing how distant Donovan is from his son, but also, I have a feeling he may be feeling uncomfortable watching a father hurt and ignore his own son's feelings.

Perhaps it is too far-fetched to speculate whether this will bring about emotional conflicts in him like those he once had with his own father, influencing their own paternal vision of which I have spoken in the past

It is precisely when Twilight takes the opportunity to confess something that in reality "is true". For him, being a father has not been easy, learning to understand another human being has been a constant process of trial and error. I know he is taking advantage of this moment to extend the conversation with Donovan, but curiously, Twilight did not seek to agree with Desmond and congratulate him on his parenting method as Melinda's friends have done, or as any ordinary civilian would surely do.

It's as if Twilight is looking for a way to debate Donovan's arguments and show that he disagrees, but in such a subtle and polite way, that it feels unnoticeable. Contributing his point of view, when in reality he is demonstrating that Damiand's feelings have validity and that as parents they should be accountable to anything to do with their children., gently placing his hand on Damiand's shoulder

This confession, however, catches Donovan's interest and he ends up expressing, this:

It is impossible to understand strangers

It seems that according to Donovan, even if people have blood affinity or any other intimate bond, they will never be able to understand each other.

Will people ever understand each other?

If anything, I find it interesting how SxF manages to link such different concepts and make it one, how the parent-child relationship can be an analogy of peace and war.

However, Twilight makes a point to Desmond: Sometimes perfect communication between human beings sounds like an impossible ideal, a utopian world where people can express themselves and agree. From this point of view, peace sounds implausible. Making war the only viable option, imposing your ideals, ambitions and beliefs on the world, so that only one way of thinking reigns.

At the same time, Twilight's words demonstrate a very important lesson:

Communication between human beings should not be ideal or perfect, it is a matter of keep trying and never give up. There will be moments of frustration, it will be difficult and we feel that we should give up or just impose ourselves in a rough and violent way. But, striving to build a good relationship is what can lead us to grow and be better.

There may be parents like Donovan or Melinda, who prefer to turn their backs on their children and act as if they did not exist or were so insignificant as to spend their time on them; or parents like the one Twilight had, people who try to give good lessons, but instead of listening and explaining themselves, they prefer to resort to more aggressive methods to impose their point of view, attacking their children's emotions.

But, there will also be parents who try to be better with effort: It's amazing what a good father Twilight becomes, even if he doesn't realize it himself.

He always tries to understand Anya, even if he doesn't succeed. Sometimes he gets consumed with frustration and becomes somewhat harsh with her, but he has never tried to assault or hurt, let alone minimize her emotions. He was willing to almost-punch a professor for making her cry even if the entire mission was in jeopardy.

Obviously, Twilight is not going to pass up this opportunity to alter reality, and make it seem that his interest in Damiand and thus in his family are mere coincidence, and it is partly because of Anya's (false) admiration for Damiand.

Apparently, Donovan's response was positive, enough to "memorize" Loid Forger's name. However, their retreating glances indicate suspicion, it seems that Donovan is just as intrigued by this psychiatrist.

In the end, we can see the Forger's words affecting Damiand, him as a father manifesting his efforts to understand his daughter, and Anya having the courage to confront her father despite not meeting his expectations. Filling Damiand with enough courage to speak to her father. Although Donovan's approval is mediocre, poor Damiand settles for these crumbs of affection.

It's interesting, the way Twilight always wants to act as the spy, the cold and calculating man, the heartless one with no feelings. But, in this chapter he shows a subtle but evident empathy towards Damiand despite having no reason to do so, after all, even though he is the target's son, his priority is to gain Donovan's sympathy. He encourages Damiand, giving him comfort and respect for his feelings, as he gives him one last look before leaving. Although he has not really been close to Damiand, these brief moments made him understand a little of his suffering, and although this can be used for the mission, it shows that deep down, Twilight is that emotional man he has wanted to bury.

My conclusions:

I think Donovan's character makes me think quite a bit, since as Twilight said: he seems like someone indecipherable at first glance. His expressionless face, which change to terrifying and laughing expressions in a second.

Many people commented after Melinda's appearance, that maybe Donovan was just a puppet, but at the moment it doesn't seem to me to be the case. So far we can't be completely sure if Melinda and her husband are allies, or if they are distant people with their own paths. However, after observing the pinpricks Yor and Twilight had in their respective encounters, they give me to understand that both can be dangerous, capable of activating the fear fibers of a spy and an assassin. So, linked or not, they both strike me as mysterious people.

Does Demond have a past?

I wonder if Donovan's words have some tragic background that led him to think this way. Knowing that in Spy x family every character has a truth to protect, maybe some experience led him to believe that people are incapable of communicating and understanding each other, union being a dead end, and war is the only way men have to exist. Those who win the war will have power and dominance, while the weak will be placated. I hope that in the future we will get to know Donovan's true background and he will not turn out to be the typical villain who is evil just because "yes" and there really is a deep and dark reason.

If we think of the Desmond family as an opposing force to the Forgers: I mean a family whose composition and values are radically opposite. Whereas Twilight and Yor were victims of war, and were driven to want to build a better world and eliminate all those plagues that turn the lives of innocents into a battlefield and tragedy. But also, it leads them to try to be good parents to Anya even though she is not their biological daughter.

We might think that Melinda and Donovan were also victims of the war, but perhaps with a different kind of life and circumstances: perhaps they came from wealthy families who did not suffer the impacts or ravages directly; or perhaps, they suffered in a way that led them to resent the world and want to make it succumb to the war.

It would make more sense, when we think about how opposite the Forgers are as parents. They are a fake family that started out of convenience with a foster daughter. But they both try to make Anya's life happy, try to devote their time to her and give importance to her feelings. They learn and recognize when they are failing, and support each other when the other feels discouraged.

The opposite of the Desmond couple, who are described as a distant and disinterested family in the suffering of their children, and their relationship as a couple is cold and distant, completely losing interest in each other and the only thing that seems to sustain their relationship is power and status.

So, if the Forger family in an analogy to the search for peace, communication, learning, empathy and support that different people can give each other, building a family. The Desmonds may represent the opposite pole, a family that seeks war, they are distant, cold and without any interest in what happens between them.

Personally, my biggest concern is Damiand. Since among all the characters he is the most innocent and the one who has the most to lose. If the Desmond parents are the irredeemable villains whose end is to end up imprisoned or only remains to eliminate them, Damiand will eventually lose them, being left alone or with his brother. Even if someone were to take responsibility for it, the weight on his heart will remain, because he truly loves his parents and longs for their love and attention.

This leads me to question whether the Desmonds will be that kind of antagonist who can be vindicated at the end, and change. And with that, wanting to learn to be better parents to Damiand so that this child has some hope for the future. Although it seems an unlikely scenario

This analysis was a request from my friend @shiro-s2e2-erukinzu I hope you enjoy it.

You can see the first part here

Let me know if you want me to review any chapter!

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What did you think?

[yojeongin]

change in you | l.jn

→ turned vampire!lee jeno x vampire queen!reader

synopsis: centuries of slumber can do much to a hungry queen, what else than to take it out on the one who woke you up?

genre: vampire au, queen of the damned au, georgian era/historical au, smut, horror (?)

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! dom/sub/switch dynamic, corruption, biting, blood/blood letting/drinking, oral (m + f receiving), deepthroating, very rough sex, unprotected sex, semi size kink, cock bulge, cum swallowing, creampie, fingering, religious guilt/mentions of religion, mentions of abusive parents, death (not mcs)

wc: 11.4k+ || ao3

© 2021 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please do not translate, take, nor repost my works on other social media’s. this is my ONLY writing platform.

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol. read at your own discretion.

song(s): change (in the house of flies), digital bath—deftones | if I was your vampire—marilyn manson | strangers—the rose | little dark age—mgmt

an: happy halloween here's my gift and my contribution for not giving jeno smut in air bag and for being gone for nearly 2 years. also I wrote this before the 127 vampire agenda so enjoy vampire jeno

Fear. 

Jeno had always been brought up to learn that God was the only one he should fear. That God was the only one to dictate what would happen if he was to sin. 

His first encounter with God’s wrath was when he had grown to be considered both a man and a child. Jeno didn’t know much about the world but he did know about the word of God from his religious mother who spent the majority of his life forcing them down his throat until he was able to attend school.

Even when he wasn’t in school and his studies were done, she’d drag the boy to the chapel and continue to teach him about the word of God over and over again until he wept once she forced sins he hadn’t committed out of his bloodied mouth from the slaps she’d given him when he denied any.

His first encounter came through the actions of his father’s own sins. As he always did, the boy had walked to the chapel down the road from school. Mother had engraved into his head that after learning the subjects at hand, especially science– he was to pray for forgiveness if he was to believe all those ‘zannies’ [1] told him to.

And so as he crossed the worn-down wooden doors and up the aisle to the marble altar table in which he laid his lit candle as an offering, the boy made his way down the steps, leaning down on a pew. 

Tongue tied as he looked up at the crucifix, glaring down at him for all his thoughts— Jeno closed his eyes hoping that would help him let out what he was conditioned to believe were sins. 

His feeble fingers overlapped to create a cross with his thumb and index, bringing them to his forehead, chest, left and right shoulder, just to finish at his trembling lips. “ In nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sanсti… ” [2]

Jeno lowered his head, struggling to bring words out of his mouth and despite knowing he had to confess with a priest, he opted to leave it up to God himself. His ‘sins’ were nothing but guilt embedded by his mother but that same guilt was the reason he was here.

He forced it out, even if they weren’t true— Jeno forced out sins that his brain created and made him believe he did. This was the worst part of prayer, knowing he didn’t do anything but making himself feel worse for not doing anything.

But because of that guilt, his true sin came to flourish that same moment. Moans of pleasure rung inside his ears. They were soft mewls at first but as he grew concerned, they became louder to let him know they were real and not just his sinful creations. 

He didn’t know what caused them, never in his life had he heard something so unearthly but captivating. He had heard of mermaids who sung their hypnotizing songs at bay and lured fishermen in just to devour them once the men were finally enchanted. He figured this was the same sound the mermaids made but he didn’t think it was quite as beautiful as the men had described.

The louder they got the more of a screech it sounded like. His knees tore away from the worn-out leather of the pew, dusting off whatever dust particles stuck to his breeches. He felt his knees ache the moment he extended them but that minimum amount of pain was not compared to the following.

He looked around, the chapel was empty and the crucifix looked at him more angry than minutes before as if it had now dictated what would happen to him in the next few minutes. The gold embedded decorations around it shining bright despite the dim lighting within, the only illumination coming from the lit candles all left as offerings or thanks for the completed miracles.

Jeno’s steps echoed through the building just like the moans they chased. He figured they came from outside the chapel and back to the nun quarters given every door inside were open and showed no sign of human beings. 

With the realization that no one was around, Jeno had changed his thought of mermaids and into the paranormal. He had heard stories of women dying inside the chapel. Most of the time those abandoned by their lovers in the altar and opting to take their life rather than facing the mockery of the people knowing they’d be labeled ‘unlovable’ which would only push away future prospects.

Now he figured those wails and moans came from their ghosts, trying to scare him for lying about his sins and for the torment he put himself through. His body shook now, blood ran cold across the moment he stepped out of the chapel from the back into the nun’s courtyard.

It was empty, abandoned to be exact. No one in sight to tell him to get out and it scared him more than the wails now. He knew the unprivileged children had been taken on a trip to the mountains by the nun’s but he didn’t think all of them would be gone. 

He was right of course, as he walked further down the courtyard and into the last few rooms, Jeno heard the moans louder than ever. He had found the location of his terrors and as he leaned in closer to decipher if it was real or a product of the ghosts; he heard a familiar voice.

Jeno heard the raspy deep voice of a man in there along the loud wails. It was so familiar, painfully so. He heard how it cooed at the moaning person to take it like they always do. In gratitude the moaning outlet hummed, responding with a nasty high pitched “Always…” 

Upon hearing the words he hears daily: “—Sweet Petunia!” Jeno burst open the door, bells loudly ringing inside his head, making his eyes run from side to side in a matter of insanity. The people behind the doors, laying on bed in a position he didn’t know but could feel was wrong.

“Father!...” Jeno exclaimed, His lip quivering at the scene in front of him. Jeno couldn’t say if this was wrong or right but he knew what sin looked like and this felt like a major sin. In a matter of seconds, his father had removed his naked figure from Sister Merida, dressing himself quickly. The young girl rushed to cover herself with the blanket underneath her as the boy tried his best not to stare at her for long. There he committed yet another sin.

She wasn’t much older than him, only a few years but his father was a ragged old hag pushing 60 and for him to be messing around with a young woman along being married to the neurotic person his mother was— Jeno had finally known how much of a disgusting sinner his father was. 

Jeno learned much that day. He finally learnt what ‘ thou shall not commit adultery ’ meant in the ten commandments when his father had taken a grip of his black locks and pulled at them all the way back to the chapel, leaving Sister Merida to dress herself.

He felt immense pain from the tugging, his scalp ached and so did his knees when his father brought in pebbles from outside, forcing his oldest son to kneel on top of them and repeat his daily prayers very slowly. Using his wrinkled hands to push on his shoulders so he felt the pain of the pebbles making indents on his flesh even more.

He wept and wept, pleading for help knowing that he didn’t commit any sin besides look too long at Sister Merida’s body and for that he repented enough. “My sins are your sins and to make you avoid my sins, you ought to pay for them!” His father yelled at him, watching the stream of tears run painfully across his son’s face. 

What ensued next was his father dragging him out of the chapel to the Nun’s quarters, and through the backdoor in the kitchen to which the both walked through the woods and to their home. His mother had been waiting in worry given the boy had taken so long to come back home and dinner was ready, becoming colder by the minute now.

Her worry grew when he saw her husband cling his hand against their son’s arm. Crimson anger on the elder’s face. 

“Your pure clean son— Nothing but a sinner! Caught him peeking at Sister Merida when changing her habit. He’s nothing but a deviant! You preach and preach cleanliness but look at what I brought you. Nothing but useless, all of you! Especially you!” His father pointed at the woman.

Her body shook and his tears reflected on her face. The moment his father let go of his arm and made him drop to his knees to plead at his mother; Jeno cried even more begging her to believe that it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t a pervert like his father made him out to be.

As he kept begging and crying, the back of his mother’s hand came across his perfectly sculpted face. Not only once but at least four times since then, she opted to get the wooden spoon she was to serve the food and beat him until he shook from the pain. 

“Thou shall not commit adultery, thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor, and thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother!” Her last streak had exhausted her, pulling out a chair to sit and watch her son cry in pain for a sin he didn’t commit but rather his father. 

As his mother looked at the damage she made, the welts on his skin, and clothes ripped by how hard she was hitting him. She was a sinner too, a bigger sinner than he was and by her sins he was paying the price now.

“Our sins are your sins.”  

That’s the fear he knew and something he never wanted to experience again. For the following years, Jeno gave up and allowed his parents to dictate his life. If he was to sin through them, then he opted to live as their shadow so he could at least know he was guilty if he followed their lead.

With his father’s obsession with the violin after their trip to France for merchandise, the old man had forced him to become a musician on the side, knowing well his son would still take the family business once he died. 

That obsession is what led to where Jeno was now. After finding an abandoned mansion behind the graveyard and in front of the river, in which Jeno could practice away from those complaining about the noise— the old man sat across his son, satisfaction on his face and anger whenever he missed a note.

As he continued to chastise his son for small errors, Jeno grew angry. It was becoming obvious and with that his father laughed, continuing his mockery and berating, making Jeno’s actions against the violin become violent. 

The bow harshly slid against the strings, their screams of pain louder by the second as Jeno tried to drown his father’s belittling in order to avoid yet another sin and the consequence of it. He heard laughter, it was becoming louder than the screeching of his bow and violin, and just as he had felt the anger run to his head and ready to strike at his father after having enough of it— The mirror on the wall cracked, causing both males to turn in fear.

They watched intently as the glass shards became smaller and smaller as they fell to the ground, revealing what seemed to be a body behind the frame. His father full of fear now and feeling his heart begin to stop, closed his eyes cowering behind his son. 

In you came, your limbs weak and in pain after centuries of being forcefully asleep in the confines of a wall. Beginning to move them, they creaked from the lack of movement. You didn’t make a noise besides groan at the pain that soon stopped when you stood in front of the young man.

“Why must thou wake me?” Your voice was horse but upon hearing it, Jeno’s chest clamped up feeling speechless. If there was more to the feeling of sin, you were sin personified. 

Wearing nothing but a gold brasier that was made to fit only you and a flimsy cloth (visible to not leave much to the imagination) around your waist that was only held by a band of gold. Jeno was now aware of what a woman of sin looked like and he for once did not see sin as bad.

He couldn’t speak, he bit down on his tongue hard enough trying to figure it out. If it wasn’t because you felt a rising urge when looking at his face and body, his silence would’ve made him your first meal after years of slumber. 

Yet with his father behind him, the old man pinched the lower back of his son, causing him to break out of the daze you put him in. Stumbling on his words and fear coursing through him, Jeno finally spoke. “Please forgive me, I didn’t intend to— I-I didn’t know you were behind there.” He pleaded, Jeno knew this was supernatural. Not everyone suddenly breaks free from behind a mirror with a vestment that was highly inappropriate for these times and would grant her death. 

You could smell the fear, surely. It was cute, endearing how pathetic he was acting. “Y/n… Queen y/n. The Great Mother.” Walking closer to him, your hand lifted. Running your fingers to caress his strong cheekbones and jaw, Jeno shuddered at the feeling of a woman touching him.

“Whom would thou be, darling?” You questioned, your left hand mimicking the movements on his face to his neck, nails softly scratching to find his pulse. “Jeno… I don’t have titles, your highness.” At the title he called you, your teeth took your lower lip, hunger and desire being the first to awaken after these centuries.

You chuckled at his nervous words, the cracking of his voice more evident when your finger ran across his lower lip, causing his breath to hitch in the back of his throat. He was so new to this feeling. To the feeling of arousal and despite his last experience of adultery after catching his father with Sister Merida was when a merchant’s daughter (friend of his father) had enticed him to kiss her and touched him, it did not amount to what he is feeling now with only your gracing touch.

“May I grant thou a gift? My gratitude for awakening me.” Your voice softened and lowered, eyes hooded as you stared at him making sure he looked directly into your own eyes whilst you held his jaw and neck. 

“Yes…” 

In a breath he let it out, leaning in you connected your lips onto his. In the instance in which you kissed him, Jeno felt the poisoning of your perpetual sin. He wasn’t married to you and here he was. With his lips moulding against yours perfectly. Opening his mouth when you opened yours— Jeno felt happy that he was sinning for once.

Your tongues enveloped each other and as you were to finish the kiss, your teeth sunk into his lower lip, making him groan in pain. Allowing you to lick off the blood you had drawn. He stood in pain, holding his lip with his own teeth, letting some of the blood drip to his fingers which you took with your own, savoring his sweet taste.

“Filthy wrench, tainting mine son and now a sinner thou become again.” The hateful words coming from his father broke the both of you out of the trance you created for both. Full of new rising anger, you turned to the old man who looked at you with obvious lust and jealousy of your choosing. Jeno was feeling no different, clear anger rested on his gaze, one that had never occurred to him in the past. Not even when his mother beat him into submission years ago.

“Who might thou be?” It wasn’t the softness you received Jeno with but still enticing enough. A smirk ran on your lips, making your fangs visible. Though the old man didn’t notice, Jeno did. Making his blood run cold again, fearing he’d be your next meal after you’ve finally had a taste of him.

He tried convincing himself that he was wrong, that vampires didn’t exist but upon the way you had woken, the look on your face, and the way you tried to not waste any drop of his blood— he was completely sure that you were one.

Chuckling knowing it was his turn and hoping to get a gift like his son did (much to your great disgust at his idea of familiar sharing), he spoke. “His fat—”

“An offering, My Queen.” 

Both turned to look at the younger male. Clear freight and surprise in his father’s face. Never has he interrupted him in all of these years of being alive let alone offered him like a piece of meat. That didn’t matter to you, he was here with an offering. A disgusting one but with an offering. 

Was it not because you were parched and you didn’t want to waste Jeno’s sweet blood, the old man would suffice. 

“Are thou mental? You’re offering thy father?!” He began to argue, turning to his son and raising his fists, beginning to hit his arms and near face to which his son began to whimper. You didn’t let him go further; taking a tight grip of his arms, making him groan in pain at the crushing feeling.

As he whitered, your teeth clung to his neck, hard enough to make him squeal like a pig when the butcher deemed its time. Jeno watched in horror how his father’s blood sprayed across the room, most onto him, leaving his clothes filthy. 

He watched you in horror, he didn’t know why he offered his father’s life. Jeno would never do something as sinful as that, or so he thought because here he was. Watching a hungry vampire queen drain his father from its blood and feeling no pain from loss but rather fear with how it’ll be brought up on judgment day.

Jeno trembled, his father’s body had dropped dead in front of his feet as a reminder of his doings, a pool of blood surrounding the three of you. His only instinct was to look around. He focused on the portrait decorations on the walls; all looked recent. The walls themselves are decorated with new wallpaper, the pastel colors bright despite the sun beginning to set. 

The furniture was painted in red, reminding him of what he just did. As he analyzed everything severely, he wasn’t so sure that this was an abandoned home anymore and rather his father had broken into it. He should’ve figured when everything was spotlessly clean and the only broken thing was the door from where his father had bashed a rock in.

Upon hearing your gagging, Jeno broke out of his fearsome daze. Getting the courage to look at his father again before running to you, helping you up. “Next time— don’t punish me with a rotten corpse, I only appreciate it for I am hungry.” Your last words, making his fear grow again. 

You sensed it though, a giggle leaving your lips upon seeing his widened eyes. “I won’t feast on you as long as you’re a good boy.” Wiping away the blood from your mouth, your lips pecked the corner of his. “Now close your eyes for a few seconds and hold me tight.” 

Jeno felt that surge of sin again, when you took his hands into yours he felt the heat of arousal commence but it only got worse when you took those hands and placed them on your bare hips, causing him to softly gasp. He hadn’t touched a woman before, a woman had touched him but it didn’t spark this feeling. Perhaps it’s your vampiristic essence that’s making him feel insane but sure you were a woman he needed in his life.

His hands made their way from your hips to your back as he wrapped his arms around you, holding tight to your body like you told him. You yourself felt that heat he was feeling. It was so obvious how innocent he was despite his grown age but given the way his father treated him, this boy was nothing but emotionally weak.

Gracing the pads of your fingers against his eyelids, helping him shut his eyes for a few seconds. Jeno couldn’t deny that he was slightly scared that his fate would be the same as his father when you closed his eyes but upon feeling your lips on his again as a form of waking him up; Jeno relaxed into the cushioned feeling of your now less chapped lips against his.

Once he opened them, he felt a sense of awe and amazement seeing the amount of gold around him. Jeno hadn’t seen so much money at once ever before let alone this much gold so it all felt like a dream. 

One moment he was getting berated by his father once again and the next thing he knew, he was in a golden palace with a hungry vampire queen that if she wanted, would surely drain him of his own blood too. It was whiplash what he felt.

His curiosity and overwhelmedness hadn’t gone ignored by you, you figured he needed time to relax about the happenings let alone the death of his own father. Caressing his face again, his arms not unraveling from you just yet, you smiled leaning in for yet another kiss that he didn’t even think twice about.

This was the most sexual attention he has gotten in years and despite them being simple, he was melting at your touch and taste. As your tongue swiped across the lip you had bitten; your hesitation made him pull away to look at you. “Is everything alright?” He questioned, his hands unconsciously rubbing at your bare flesh. You simply nodded, not trusting your voice around him furthermore regarding the subject. 

Your fingers running to his chest, unbuttoning the hand sewn-in buttons of his waistcoat; you spoke, “Take a bath, you’re very tense.” Pushing the waistcoat off his shoulders and down to the golden floor, you took his hand into yours, leading the way to the tub built into the floor.

Contrary to the golden decoration within, the tub was entirely marble like the altar table he saw before his first taste of unowned sin. The floor was decorated with fresh rose petals as was the water. Dipping his hand in, he could feel warmth, something that was rare to attain when bathing at home as they’d have to make the water last, only getting a bucket each for their cleansing.

By the moment he was to thank you, your person was gone making him shudder at the realization. Of course it didn’t bother him much, he would be more bothered if he had to strip fully in front of you. So once he knew you weren’t around, Jeno pulled on his breeches, socks, and pulled off his frilled blood sprayed white tunic, being left in nothing but nude. 

 Jeno couldn’t deny he felt some sense of peace. His overbearing, filthy sinner of a father was dead and gone. He felt like a weight had just been lifted off of his shoulders and the sins of his father were not his anymore except only his and his mother’s.

Just as he slid into the tub, the warm water coating his body and rose petals stuck to his well defined body (which thanks to his father forcing him to do every single heavy lifting task, he looked like this). Jeno began to feel the weight of his father’s death on him only for the sheer presence of his mother in his mind.

If he had never thought about his mother and how she’d force down his father’s sins on him once she found out, he would have full heartedly enjoyed his bath. It wasn’t fair that his father died knowing his sins were stuck to Jeno as he refused to take responsibility for his actions. It wasn’t fair that if his mother found out, he was to get the beating of his life and finally she would fulfill her promise of using the branding iron on him to teach him what sin feels like in hell. 

He knew she would do anything for his father. Even if it meant taking away his sins and giving them to their eldest child for him to suffer just so the filthy, cheating, poor excuse of a man wouldn't leave her with three useless children. 

In frustration and anger, Jeno closed his eyes. Submerging entirely in the tub and all he could think about was either drowning himself and carrying the sins of his parents to judgment day or— well there’s no or. All he knew was that he did not want to deal with the pain and guilt his parents have put him through anymore. Even so he didn’t have it in him to not live, he wanted to know what life felt outside of his parental grasp.

Rising from the water, Jeno ran his hands down his face. Pushing away as much water from it as he could so he could open his eyes. Still no sign of you, water dripping from his hair to his face, Jeno looked all around hoping to find you. 

With no luck, he sighs heavily before relaxing his body against the cold marble tub. His eyes fall heavy as he tries to fight off the guilt that has been engraved and carved into his brain his entire life.

He was like a fawn, delicate but quick to learn about his position in the world. Perhaps that’s what made him so endearing to you. He was naive and easy to handle, he didn’t put up a fight and his spurts of fear never lasted. 

Blame it on your hunger and desire speaking, but hidden behind the sheer curtains of the tub; you admired his body and how it flexed. He might be weakly minded but physically— there was nothing weak about him. 

After tending the abandoned palace in which you once resided, the smell of blood coursed through your nostrils making you rush back to the room where he enjoyed his bath. Jeno had begun nibbling on his lip after he rose from the water. His frustration made him break the skin again, forcing the blood to softly ooze out.

Jeno’s scent was nothing but strong, whether it’s the scent of a virgin or his strong pheromones, but Jeno was intoxicating and surely that was a big reason why he still remained alive (along how charming and adorable he was in your eyes).

You watched his every move. The way he leaned back and sighed heavily whilst his eyelids remained close. How his arms slung back on the rim of the tub, his body swaying softly so he could feel the rippling of water against his body.

This was a huge luxury for him and he wanted to enjoy every little detail of it. As the rose petals swayed along with the water he kept moving, it all became clear as well. The copious amount of petals moving further away and refusing to stick, allowing to showcase his entire body like a collectible behind glass.

He smiled moving his hips softly, no ill intent behind it. Yet in your eyes he was tempting your thirst more than ever. The way his toned chest and abs clenched. The way his flesh stretched against his ribcage when he twisted his hips, or the way his cock was out in full display.

Tip red even when not aroused, he was flaccid but girthy and slightly above average so perhaps once hard, it would all change. The idea of him becoming hard made you feel parched and not simply for blood but for a well deserved orgasm. 

In hopes that he won’t get scared away, you moved as quietly as you could. Finding yourself opposite from him in the vast tub that could honestly be considered near a pool. Jeno didn’t sense anything, he was in his own little world fighting himself between thinking of his guilty sin or enjoying what that sin was granting him.

Slithering towards him like a prying nerodia ready to attack, you submerged underwater inches away from his person. Opening your eyes underwater to experience all of his glory. You felt heat in your chest rise seeing how close his dick was to your face, wanting nothing more than to touch it.

Your hand had a mind of its own, making its way up to his torso only hovering above it before your fingers began to slide up from it to his chest as softly and slowly as you could. 

That took Jeno out of his trance, surprised but relaxed the moment he saw it was your hand the one touching him. It seemed as your heat radiated, making him feel it on the lingering touch of your slithering hand. 

Feeling your body closer underwater, his eyes began to flutter shut. His head lolled back against the rim of the tub once again. Slowly your head began to creep to the outside, wiping away any signs of water from your face with your left hand while you kept touching him.

Upon your hand making its way up to the nape of his neck and holding his head firmly, Jeno opened his eyes, adoring the way you gazed at him with want and need. He loved it, he loved when he knew he was needed and wanted.

Hovering over him, you smirked seeing the sparkle in his eye. “Can I savor thou again?” You questioned, face coming closer and closer to his. Responding with a whimper and a nod, his eyes closing with anticipation.

Your tongue ran across his lower lip, blood beginning to slow its oozing. Jeno shuddered at the action, lowering his right hand to where his fingers dipped in the water. You loved the taste of Jeno. He was fresh meat and something new to you. Iit was almost perfect that the universe allowed you to be awoken by someone as glorious as him. 

The hand that held his neck slithers down to his bicep, holding it whilst your left hand made its way to his jaw, grasping it firmly but not enough to make it ache. He leaned in closer to your lips, taking initiative that surely caused interest in you to see how desperate he was. Your lips connected, soft at first but as time progressed, they moved in unison. Him mimicking your actions from earlier and sticking his tongue out to savor your lips. 

They weren’t chapped anymore, almost as if his saliva on you made them youthful. Jeno smirked into the kiss when you softly nibbled on his lower lip. The sensation caused great pleasure knowing you were becoming desperate for him and his blood.

Jeno’s hand hesitantly started to move, fighting the urge to touch you. You felt the water rippling in between the both of you. Inching closer to him, you took his hand into the one that used to hold his jaw, quickly relocating it to your hip. Allowing him to do as he pleased.

He groaned at the proximity of your bodies, the tip of his cock starting to rub against your stomach while his hand massaged the flesh of your hip bone. 

Your mouth trailed its way down from his lips to his jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses that made him groan in anticipation as you went. His whimpering was so cute, they were addicting and reassuring that you were pleasing him. 

Unintentionally as your tongue lapped on his neck, lips surrounding areas of it and nipping softly, his hand inched closer to your ass, softly gripping it and pulling you closer to his body. You felt his growing erection, he was getting harder against your stomach the closer you got to him. 

He smelt wonderful, his natural scent seeping through his neck and the smell of his blood as you neared a vein was making you go insane. Your leg underwater came closer to him, calf rubbing against the side of his thigh.

Jeno felt you close, too close  at the worst time. Memories of his mother’s and father’s beatings got the best of him. A  gasp leaving his body as he removed his hands from you, guilt consuming him as you held him. 

You looked at him in confusion, pulling away from him as you noticed his discomfort. “Are you okay?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he swallowed the lump in his throat just for it to come back again.

He looked down, seeing how the rose petals weren’t there to cover him. He felt guilty, he felt the guilt of being hard in front of you, he felt guilty that you two weren’t together and he was defyling you. “It’s just— It’s just sinful…” He raised his head, looking at the way you’d react but upon gaining nothing, he sighed, continuing.

“Father is dead now, his sins have clung to me and if paying for my sins in death is the same way as I pay for them now— I don’t want to sin more… But when I look and touch you, I feel a sense of release.” 

His confession piqued interest in you. He was surely mentally strained from all he’s lived his entire life but maybe if you showed him what sin felt like, he’d learn to know that sin was inherently human just like desire and it would never go away.

Sighing, you came closer to him. Cradling his face into your hand, thumb caressing his cheek bone; “Thy parents are not teaching thou about sin, they’re the ones committing it and taking it out on thou.” Jeno’s tense feeling was easing at your words.

The more you looked at his face, the more you noticed small details. He had a tiny mole under his eye, it wasn’t visible unless you actively looked for it. “One cannot simply transfer sin to someone else, that’s not how it works. Only humans implement sin for fear; power is all you want and with power the more control you have. Is that not how thy familiar relationship works?” You question, making him nod as his lips became agape.

“Would thou let me show ye how good sin actually feels?” With a smirk slapping itself on your face, body as close as before. You held him with anticipation of how he’d answer but as he whispered a soft ‘Yes…” , with his consent your thigh graced his aching cock, leaning in to kiss him softly.

Telling him to sit on the rim of the tub, Jeno looked at you in confusion before he watched you come closer to him. Your hands on his knees, softly parting them so you could settle in between them. He felt himself shake at the image before him, wishing he had parchment and charcoal to capture this moment forever.

“You’re too tense, perhaps embracing sin will help thee relax.” Teasing him with your words, you finally settled in between his legs. Your hands clinging to the underside of his thighs, trailing kisses up from his knee to inner thighs, licking them softly the closer you get to his angry cock.

Jeno groaned, feeling your warm breath fan over his cock, making it twitch with just the sensation. He leaned back slightly, hoping it would help you in some way. He didn’t really know what you were going to do but he enjoyed the image of you in between his legs. His cock out in display for a beautiful woman to play with.

Glancing at him before you began, you took his shaft onto your left hand. Holding it firmly before you rose a little, accumulating spit in your mouth and letting it drip from your tongue to his red angry tip. Jeno groaned at the warm feeling, shuddering when you started to rub it around, up and down.

It was barely starting but little contact was making him feel insane. From what he recalls whenever the merchant’s daughter touched him, it didn’t feel this good. He remembers uncomfortably laying against a tree trunk as she rubbed him over his breeches too harshly at some point after he couldn’t get hard.

She wasn’t easy on the eye and her gown didn’t help him gain any arousal but on top of that, the guilt of sin was consuming him. When he couldn’t get it up and he didn’t want to touch her, she stormed off in frustration looking for someone else that could aid the need Jeno had caused in her.

He also recalls their kisses to be wet, teeth-clashing, and sloppy. It was nothing like the way you kissed him. If they were to get wet and sloppy, it never felt gross. You knew well how to clean it up with just another kiss.

And as you touched him, he immediately felt that need in the pit of his stomach, aching to be let out quickly. When you felt that he was somewhat well lubricated, you leaned in closer to his groin, making him shudder and moan at how close your mouth was to his aching cock. 

“You’re enjoying yourself already, huh?” Giggling, you began littering his cock with pecks. Your now soft lips coming in contact softly, leaving the lingering feeling on him, making this even more achingly painful. 

As he tried to control his noises, your kisses on his cock were becoming longer, licking small stripes on his shaft from time to time, always catching him off guard when you did. 

Jeno didn’t want to close his eyes, he wanted to experience every little thing you did to him even if his eyelids fought him hard enough to close in pleasure. 

All he could think about was how good this felt. In fear of the consequences of adultery, Jeno never dared to touch himself. He had always heard of unmarried men and women who’d succumb to the temptation of the body through masturbation and ended up having their hands chopped or burnt by either their family, the townspeople, or the clergy. 

He lived in fear of that, of public harm and for them to know he was that kind of sinner leaving his parents to be the laugh of the town. Even if he did have his urges whenever he did find or think about something that aroused him— Jeno would not become complacent to the ill thoughts of his brain and rather listen to his parents and the word of God. 

Upon your lips wrapping themselves perfectly around his tip, Jeno moaned loudly, finally shutting his eyes and throwing his head back at the suctionion feeling. He felt glorious, he finally knew the pleasures of adultery and he was enjoying them so far. Raising his head again, he looked at you intently, they way his cock was beginning to disappear in between your lips, making him moan even more. 

You swirl your tongue around his tip, later to take him all in once again. Jeno always shuddered when you took him all in. He knew he was girthy and when erect, it was long so watching you take him in at ease made him feel a harsh beat within his chest. 

He watched you intently at this point. How you bobbed your head at a steady pace, the pad of your fingers rubbing against his testicles, and how you hollowed out your cheeks whenever you were to go back to the tip of his cock, milking out the precum that was already getting out. 

It was mere moments before he actually came. Jeno had no experience with this and he was feeling too good, he didn’t know how to control himself when cumming. 

You heard his exasperated groans and cries. He sounded so pretty and nothing like what you’ve heard before. You truly wanted to keep him forever .

As your right hand took his balls onto it, palm massaging his left one while your fingers worked on his right; Jeno felt himself tense up. With his cock buried in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, nose touching his pubic bone, Jeno couldn’t handle much anymore.

“I can—can’t, please!...” He whined, throwing his head back, running his hands all over his face and hair. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how hot he sounded, it was intoxicating just like the taste of him coating the entirety of your mouth.

Jeno grumbled when he felt the vibration of your sound against his sensitive cock. It didn’t help that your tongue was twisting around him, savoring him even more and creating more stimulation for him. “Y/n please…” He cried out, teary eyes looking at you. Listening to him, you slowly pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his aching tip. 

The image was so lewd, it was immoral but he couldn’t help but twitch at how perfect you looked like that. Even when you collected it all to rub against him, your hand jerking him off slowly whilst your eyes laid on his. 

“I want you to cum in my mouth, I want to savor how you taste… I want it all.” Jeno whimpered, head lowering to look at you closely. “Can I?” You questioned, your lips ghosting over his, received with a chaste kiss as he nodded, pulling back to give you more space in between his legs again. 

You didn’t waste any time, his tip was so swollen and he seemed in pain to just release. You took him all in, making sure you felt him in the back of your throat. Pubes brushing against your nose, the more you tried to take him.

He shuddered, his hand coming in contact with your hair, threading it around his digits. Jeno’s chest was red, panting, and sweaty. He couldn’t hold off anymore and the moans stuck in his throat were yearning to be let out. 

Pulling away to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks to have the pressure make him give in more, you held onto his thighs. Nails raking against them, inching him closer to his release. When he felt the pressure of your nails against him, he bucked his hips upwards, not being able to contain himself.

“Is that fine?” He questions regarding his thrust. Through a chuckle and a nod, you answered him. “I’m so close, can I just do that now?” He added to which you agreed again wanting him to finally feel pleased and for you to taste him.

Jeno moaned at the look in your eyes, taking a tight hold of your head before he began to buck his hips upward. You had stood up more on the tub to help him make it easier just like he had lifted himself up from the rim in order to not hurt you. 

His thrusts were hard, soft aches in the back of your throat but anything to make him feel good. He may be inexperienced but he was doing a good job right now, fucking your tight throat, all for him after these centuries of not being used.

“Oh God…” He groans, feeling thin spurts of cum leaking from him. His grip on your hair became tighter, holding it as he fucked into your mouth. Spit and drool all over your chin with every thrust as he pulls. 

He was amazed that you didn’t make a sound aside the squelching from your mouth and saliva but besides that you helped him reach his orgasm. Playing with his testicles and allowing him to handle you like a rag doll.

They became messy and slow, within his final thrusts the moans he was threatening to release were leaving one by one and with the help of your tongue lapping against the slit of his tip, Jeno let a loud elongated one, finally felt himself go, filling your throat and mouth with his load.

Some escaped from the corners of your mouth while he held your head in place. His body shuddered trying to calm himself down. Was it not for your gentle taps on his thighs; he pulled away apologizing as he watched your every move.

The way you pushed in the leaking cum into your mouth and swallowed it all, making blood rush back into his cock, rubbing his hands against his face to control himself.Chuckling at his actions, you took a hold of his forearm. He turned to look down on you, your sultry eyes making him focus on you only. Body floating on the warm water not even using it to clean off the dry drool and cum anymore.

“Would thou want to taste actual sin?” Pulling him into the tub once again, Jeno’s gaze never left yours. Determination and confidence in them as he pulled you to settle in between his legs. “Yes.” He was so sure of it, his voice deep and husky.

You smirked upon his answer, leaning in to take his lips into yours. His tongue poking out and running across your lower lip, having you part them so it’d roam around the cavern of your mouth. His hands resting on your ass, giving it a squeeze as he propped his leg, making you sit on his thigh while you two kept making out. 

You began to move your hips against his thigh, the water making it both easier and harder as the friction wasn’t doing much for you. Nevertheless as you pulled away, your lips kissed along his neck like earlier, forming small bites in a way to taunt him.

He didn’t react to it, he enjoyed them more than you thought. Along that he helped you get more contact with his thigh, holding your hips to help you rock against it. With his help you were finally feeling that pleasure you were yearning for. 

Your lips leaving open mouthed kisses on his flesh, traveling further to his chest, and to his right nipple. Biting softly at the nub, making him jolt forward slightly. The action became pleasurable to you as the friction from his thigh against your aching cunt was sudden. The rough jolt made you moan against his chest, tongue lapping at his perked bud. “Are thou sure?...” You pant, trailing one of his hands in between your legs to make him feel how wet you were because of him.

You groaned at the feeling of his fingers gracing your lips, shuddering from the feeling you crave. “Are thou sure ye want to taste actual sin?” You questioned again, your fangs peaking through not being able to hold off much. 

They softly raked through his flesh, the sharp feeling making him gasp at what you meant. He still didn’t look at you, he allowed his touch and hearing senses to dictate it all but if his blood meant your pleasure, then that will do. He would rather have a pleasurable ending than the hell his father went through.

“I’m completely and utterly sure.” 

His dark tone along his tight grip on your waist whilst the hand that touched you began to rub soft circles on your clit; you moaned against his chest. Mouth opening slightly wider, looking at him for signs of fear but with none, you close your eyes, fangs sinking into the taut flesh of his chest.

Jeno gasped again at the sudden prickle from your intruding fangs but when feeling more pleasure than pain, he relaxed. Feeling himself get aroused once again, the suctioning of your lips against his skin creating a tingling feeling course through his body. Goosebumps formed whilst he moaned softly, continuing his gentle rubbing against your clit and his cock getting hard again.

For once in his life he felt control and power over himself. His head wasn’t pounding with guilt and he felt light in his body. 

Jeno felt reborn. Reborn with no sense of guilt, no sense of immorality, and no sin. The venom of your fangs cleansing him from all inherited evil, resurrecting into this new creature he has now become.

Upon your mouth leaving his flesh, Jeno took your head into his hands. FIngers threading through your hair, holding tight to you. His eyes were dark, a red tint washing over his pupils and his gums aching at the creation of prominent fangs.

He has been reborn.

Pulling your face closer to him, Jeno stuck out his tongue. Lapping it over your blood covered lips, savoring himself on you. He moaned against the cushioned flesh, feverishly kissing you like no tomorrow. Fingers tightly holding to your hair in fear of letting go. Just like that he was in debt to you and didn’t plan on leaving your side. Ever.

 “May I taste the fruit of eden?” 

His husky tone makes you bite your lower lip as the both of you part. WIth a simple nod, he smirks. Taking your hips into his rugged hands, pulling you up the ledge of the tub just like he was earlier. His hands prying your legs open, settling in between them.

His face delved in between your thighs, teeth nipping the inside of them. His tongue lapped softly while his fingers worked to untie the cloth that soggily rested on your hips. With success, he pushed off the fabric, allowing your legs to feel a weight off of you and enough possibility to see him clearly between your legs.

Jeno didn’t hesitate furthermore, his tongue fully coming in contact with your wet cunt, tongue peaking out to slide up your aching lips. Tip coming in contact with your clit, causing a moan to escape your lips. 

He found it so pretty, even when you moaned against him it was all muffled so he couldn’t hear how glorious they actually were. Softly pulling away to see your expression, Jeno’s eye never left your face, the way it contorted as his lips rubbed against the nub, sucking softly then harshly to go back to his soft pattern.

Jeno felt your juices cling to his chin. How when he stopped sucking on your clit, his tongue slid in between your lower lips. Over and over so he could collect your slick arousal and swallow it like he was supposed to. 

He hummed against your aching core, your fingers clutching to his hair. “If I knew it tasted this good, I would’ve succumbed so long ago.” He spoke against you, his fingers teasing your entrance. You moaned again, this time making him look up at you with the tug of his hair.

“I don’t want to think of thou with someone else…” You pout, a smirk forming on his lips whilst he chuckled, plunging his tongue in and out of you. Biting your lip at the feeling, you felt the knot in your stomach begin to ease. “Don’t worry. I want nobody else but thee.” 

As his words settled, Jeno went back to focusing on you. HIs lips wrapping around your clit from time to time trying to edge you on faster. His tongue lapped at the juices that he didn’t allow to fall past your entrance, savoring every drop. 

Jeno moaned around your clit, the vibration making your insides tingle with how close you were to an orgasm. His hands grasping tightly onto your thighs, tongue and lips going at it onto your lips and entrance, his nose beginning to rub at your cit. 

The sudden friction of his nose against your clit was making you spiral furthermore. His tongue moved in and out of your entrance, rimming it from time to time, and taking its time to lick away the arousal you let out. The movement of his jaw was making you go insane, feeling the wetness on it whenever his face came close to you.

He kept going, your moans becoming louder the more pressure the tip of his nose put on your clit. Friction from the rubbing made your head spin and it didn’t help that his tongue was causing so much pleasure in you.

Jeno knew you were going to cum already. With the tight grip on his hair, the way his nose rubbed against you, your increasingly loud moans, and your twisting and turning, he moaned against your cunt. Tongue pistoning inside you, replacing his nose with his fingers.

Faster circles being rubbed against your sensitive bud, eliciting meowls out of great pleasure. “I want to taste thou whole too. Please…” He pleaded, his hot breath against your lips making you shudder. Biting your lower lip and nodding in response, Jeno continued to eat you out, leaving open mouth kisses to your labia whilst his fingers stimulate your clit.

Your legs twitched as he kept going, Clawing at your collarbones as you felt the knot in your stomach untie and the rush of an orgasm ran through your entire body. Moaning loudly, holding to his hair while you came against his face, Jeno moaned, licking every last drop.

Spasming under his tongue as he kept going, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything; you pant, chest heaving whilst trying to relax. His touch, hot against your cold skin. 

Satisfied in knowing he’d made you cum and left no drop behind, Jeno got out of the water, sitting beside you to pull you into his embrace in order to help you calm down. “You’re right, it felt delightful.” He kissed along your temple, turning your head to slot his lips with yours, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth. 

Your lips never left each other’s, Jeno clung onto your body. The more you two kept kissing, Jeno pulled you down with him, his body hitting the cold tile floor, groaning slightly from the sting.  His hands never left your hips even when you went to straddle him; his hard dick coming in contact with your warm cunt. At the contact, he moaned against your mouth, your tongue running against his upper lip.

“You’ve been so good to me, Jeno…” You moan against his mouth, hips softly rocking, friction from your cunt to his cock. His hips fighting to not jerk upwards. “I’m aching and throbbing for thee.” You bit his lower lip, taking it with your own teeth and pulling softly to look at his fucked out expression. “Would thou want to savor the essence of thy Queen?” 

His hooded eyes looked at you, how your upper body rose; hands going behind your back to unclasp the hooks that held up the golden braiser, falling to the ground with a clank the mere moment you dropped it. Jeno’s cock twitched at the image before him, feeling himself swell at the idea of being in you.

“Anything thou give, I will take with gratitude.” He responds honestly, sitting up with you still on him. A smirk of satisfaction laid on your lips. Hands reach to the pins in your hair and take them out, allowing your hair to cascade down your shoulders and back for him to enjoy.

You threw all of the pins to the floor just like the piece you wore except for a pretty long thin one with multiple flowers around the top. It wasn’t until he looked at it closely that he saw the sharpness of it. He watched your every move as you held it, enticing him with your movements until it came in contact with your skin.

A gasp of concern leaving his lips when you put pressure against the flesh, slowly sliding the object against the top of your right breast. Jeno looked at the maroon beads, how they oozed out faster than when you bit his lower lip. 

Generally he would be highly concerned but the smell of you was intoxicating him and he couldn’t think of anything more than to taste you, to take your blood into his mouth and know what heaven felt besides the taste between your legs.

His hyponotized gaze didn’t go ignored. Taking one of the rolling beads onto your index finger, your hand reached out to his lips. His tongue coming out to wrap around your finger and suck off the liquid, moaning against it to let you know he was enjoying this.

“Feast all thou want.”

With your words, Jeno let out a disgruntled moan, lips latching onto the opening. Suckling with so much fervor that you felt arousal flow out of you and onto where you two were connected. 

Your hips began to rock against him again, the slickness between you making it easier. Soft moans leaving your lips just like they left him with the feeling you were giving him and the taste of your blood.

“I can’t— I need to be inside of thou right now.” He groaned, helping you off of his lap and pulling you up once he was standing. Jeno’s steps were rushed, his hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you towards the upholstered padded white bench hidden behind the sheer curtains.

Gently helping you climb on as he did after you, settling behind you. Your back in contact with his chest, his hands roaming every curb of your damn body. Both propped up on your knees, Jeno softly rocked his hips to create friction between your ass and his hardened cock. 

His breath fanning against your ear, left hand stopping at your right shoulder whilst his right hand toyed with your wet cunt. Fingertips teasing your entrance as his palm rubbed against your clit. 

Holding you tight, forearm near enough to your neck. “I need thou badly but how badly does thou need me?” His voice was deeper than moments before, tongue gracing the outer shell of your ear and nipping at it. 

Jeno had changed in a matter of minutes, his shy and guilty persona was gone and now all that remained was the confidence and power he always craved. With the way he was acting and with his fingers slowly entering and curling inside of you— you needed him more than anything.

“I need thee more than anything… If I don’t have thee in me, I’ll end up coming on thy fingers.” You confess, pushing your ass backwards to press harder against his cock and his fingers to move deeper within you, feeling your juices accumulate all over his palm.

He pouted, kissing your neck, “But I want thee to cum around mine cock.” He whined, fingers pulling out of you, receiving a cry from you. His words were so lewd, never would he ever think about letting them leave his mouth let alone think of them but now that was his vocabulary. 

 Jeno lifted up his fingers up to his mouth, using the hand that held your shoulder to hold your face now and turn it so you'd look at him. His tongue licking up your juices, stuffing his fingers inside his mouth and sucking off your essence.

Your chest heaved in need, the image before you making your innards twist in agonizing need and want. Jeno pulled out his fingers just for his lips to fall upon yours, kissing you feverishly as his wet fingers and hand traveled downward, taking his hard shaft and running the tip of his cock against your slick entrance.

“Jeno, please just get inside of me.” You mewled, pushing back against him. Chuckling at your request, He used his left hand to push you forward. Back arched and ass sticking up for him, your hands gripping the arm rest before you as he continued to tease your entrance, tip of his cock accumulating your arousal.

“My Queen is asking ever so kindly… Anything for thee.” With his final words, Jeno sunk into you. His girth making you moan and whine at the sting as he stretches you out. “Ah, fuck!” You let out, Jeno hissing at how tight you felt around him, sucking him further in.

He felt great pleasure when he was deep in your throat but it didn’t compare to him going balls deep inside your wet cunt, the warmth feeling better as he began to rut his hips against your ass. 

“Thou can move faster, love. It won’t hurt me.” Turning your head to look at him, Jeno groaned at the haziness in your eyes. He never knew adultery felt this good, now he understands why all those people sinned for this..

His grip on your hips became tighter as his pace increased. The sound of his skin slapping against your ass, the tightness of your cunt around him, juices flowing every time he pulled back— Jeno truly did love sin.

Moaning with every thrust the harder he went and the deeper he got; “Thou was made for me, Jeno… Feel how perfectly thou fit inside me.” You mewl, beginning to rock yourself against him. 

“Mine Queen that is correct, we were made for each other.” Pulling you harshly by the arms, you gasp at the sudden movement, holding onto his thighs for balance. “I don’t want to ever be away from thou now.” His confession only made you chuckle, bringing his arms to wrap around your waist as you held him.

Fucking yourself against his cock, “Thou shall never leave my side, I will make sure of that.” Bringing one of his hands up to your lips, you kissed his knuckles, his hips jotting rapidly against you. All that left your lips were loud moans against his flesh whilst he panted against your shoulder.

His free hand pushes your hips to him with every thrust, making you feel him go deeper and deeper. You felt dizzy every time the thrusts were increasing, he felt swollen compared to earlier, and your walls were contracting against him. 

“Thou sound so pretty, keep them going, please.” Jeno begged, kissing your neck and shoulders as he tried to muffle his own moans. You began to fuck yourself against him, both of your movements making Jeno go insane by how you helped him.

Centuries of not being touched and Jeno a lifetime— the two of you weren’t going to hold up much longer, even if you’d both had an orgasm not long ago.

Whilst he kissed upon your sweating skin and cock pounded within you, reaching levels one has before, you bit his knuckles softly, your body beginning to shake at how close you were getting. Squelching sound of his cock going in and out of your wet cunt, driving you insane as you felt him at your hilt, bulging against your stomach.

Moving his hand from your hip, Jeno touched the bulge he created, groaning every time he felt his hand move forward. “You’re taking all of me so well, I’m so glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.” Leaving open mouthed kisses on your spine, Jeno kept his thrusts going.

It seemed you were much more needy than him, as you felt yourself tremble upon another orgasm coming to you at the image of his cock pulsating within you. Your legs were giving out on you and your hands shook, barely being able to hold his hand anymore.

“I can’t take it… Jeno, please! Please, I’m going to cum!” You cried out, dropping his hand to hold onto the arm rest. His bitten fingers and knuckles traveled in between your legs, collecting the fluids you were creating and rubbing them against your clit. 

Motions soft and slow before he began to add pressure and speed up his circling. “Do it. Cum around me so I can cum in thee already.” Your legs shaking more than before, your moans came out as whines and cries, the slapping sound of his hips against your ass becoming echos within the golden walls.

You were close, very close. With only a few more of his rough thrusts, feeling his tip hit your g-spot perfectly and his fingers stimulating your clit all so very well, the coil within your stomach had unraveled. Legs spasming as you came all around his cock, holding tightly to the benches’ arm for support whilst he kept pounding into you, trying to chase his own release.

It didn’t take him much longer as all he needed was to feel the warmth of your orgasm wash against his cock. Thrusts become sloppy and rougher the faster he goes, your moans egging him on to cum already. Watching your tired body holding up just for his release; Jeno groaned loudly, his moans falling out of his lips one after another.

The string of spurts leaving him little by little with every thrust. Just as he felt himself closer to his release, you began fucking yourself against him order to help. With both of your thrusts, Jeno didn’t hold back anymore.

Throwing his head back with loud moans and cries as he released his load within you; you joined him, moaning at how good it felt to be filled to the brim again.

He fucked you throughout it, his sloppy thrusts igniting another quick orgasm to wash over you. Just as you felt yourself become over stimulated and he felt his cock soften, Jeno softly pulled out of you, making sure none of his cum slipped out.

If it did, you collected the dribbles onto your finger, making sure he watched you take them inside your mouth and swallow it all. 

He loved it. He loved how you didn’t let anything he gave go to waste. Flipping you to your back as he caged you above, lips connecting. Kissing you with all his pent up passion, lowering his body softly but not enough to suffocate you.

Your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, caressing his sweaty flesh trying to feel the comfort he gave you. 

When you both felt the need for air, Jeno pulled away first. Peppering your face with kisses, listening to your soft sighs of tranquility. “I shall never stop telling thou how glad I am that I did this with thee first.” He softly spoke against your chest.

Laying his head in between your breasts, cradling it and playing with his damp hair. “I also am glad thou are the one to have woken me up and be with after centuries.” Kissing the top of his head, Jeno twisted his body to look up at you.

“My Queen, the one to open my eyes about the pleasures of life.” He kissed your chest softly, “The one to let me be reborn again as what I truly am… May I get a taste of thee again?” He questioned in between kisses, lifting his body more to have his lips come in contact with yours.

Moaning against them, Jeno’ s lips moved to your neck. Soft kisses before they became rougher, the smell of your blood enticing him. Licking short stripes until he found a spot in which you moaned when you felt his lips surround it.

With a final chuckle of satisfaction, Jeno’s lips fell agape, fangs coming out as they penetrated your flesh. A moan of pleasure and pain leaving your lips with his every suckle. It was arousing to say the least. You felt the pangs of your cunt come back and felt the need of wanting him back inside you.

He was getting hard again, his cock rubbing against your thigh as he kept drinking. Jeno only pulled away when he felt your hand wrap around him, jerking him slowly. “More my Queen?” He asked with a cheeky smirk on his blood stained lips.

Lifting your head to lick the blood off his lips you nod in need. 

“If thou grant me that gift, My King.”

1: Georgian slang for crazy/stupid

2: In the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit [latin trans.]