#is there anything more satisfying than customizing a world?

[treefish]

[luminnara]

Traditions | Feyd-Rautha x Reader

REQUEST: As Feyd-Rautha's wife-to-be, you have moved to the Harkonnen homeworld to await your wedding. You're doing your best to adhere to their customs, but when a supposed doctor examines your 'purity,' Feyd-Rautha's reaction is anything but calm.

MASTERLIST

Requests are open! This was one of the first I received for Feyd-Rautha, I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: SA in a medical setting (not graphic but also more than just implied), canon typical violence (also not graphic)

Harkonnen customs were strange.

Harkonnens were strange.

Everything about Giedi Prime felt alien to you—its black sun, bathing the world in infrared; its barren landscape, polluted and abused by years of unbridled industry; and, perhaps most of all, its nobility, the Baron and his his nephew, Feyd-Rautha.

“A Harkonnen?” You had choked out when your parents informed had you of the decision. You had been in disbelief, as if reality had come to slap you in the face. All you had ever known was your homeworld and the comforts of the family palace, on a planet that was lush and beautiful. Everything you had ever heard of the Harkonnen homeworld was the opposite—harsh and inhospitable, its people even more so. You had resisted the information initially, refusing to believe that your life was changing so suddenly and so dramatically.

But, ever the dutiful daughter, you stood and met the na-Baron when he arrived, openly staring at his appearance while another Harkonnen introduced him. Feyd-Rautha was extremely pale, his skin nearly white, and, like the rest of the delegation from Giedi Prime, he was hairless. He did not even have eyebrows, and as your father welcomed him to your world, you wondered if he was truly hairless, everywhere.

As your thoughts wandered, the na-Baron’s eyes slid to you, meeting yours. You suddenly felt as though you had been caught doing something naughty, the way he looked at you, drinking you in, tilting his head slightly as he appraised you.

“Is the na-Baron pleased with what he sees?” You spoke up in a moment of bravery.

His eyes raked over your body and he smirked, making a rough sound you assumed might be a laugh.

“Oh yes, princess.” His voice was just as harsh as you’d expected. “Very.”

Feyd-Rautha spent a week on your planet, courting you in the ways of your House. He presented you with gifts of refined spice and Harkonnen riches, knives and strangely austere jewelry. He walked with you in the evenings, where you spoke of mundane things, unsure of what you were meant to do in his presence exactly, and he watched you like a hawk hunting a field mouse. When the week was up, you accompanied him back to Giedi Prime to prepare for the wedding, leaving your homeworld behind.

Feyd-Rautha was less well behaved when not surrounded by the members of another House. He was an unsettling, panther-like man, always on the hunt for something to kill…and when you arrived on his planet, you saw that he sometimes killed without abandon, fighting drugged prisoners in a public arena to satisfy his own ego.

You were not sure that you wanted him as your husband—he seemed somewhat disinterested in you, leaving you to the guest chambers you would eventually be moving out of in favor for his bed. Your first week on Giedi Prime was another of courtship, though this time in the ways of his people, and you were honored to witness his fighting prowess in that arena beneath that strange sun. You dined with him and his uncle the Baron Vladimir, a large and unpleasant man, one you could tell your husband-to-be felt no real love towards. Feyd-Rautha simply enjoyed that he would one day take the Baron’s place, and when Vladimir commented on your figure one evening, you saw the way Feyd’s jaw tensed. Perhaps he did want you as his wife, after all.

Another strange Harkonnen custom revealed itself to you toward the end of that week, when a doctor entered your chambers and informed you that your purity was to be inspected.

“My apologies, but…what?” You asked, confused. You had never heard of such a thing. Surely he couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant…?

“We must ensure that none other than the na-Baron have had you, milady.” The man explained. You noticed he sported a gray sash around his middle, and you assumed it was some sort of uniform. “It must be guaranteed that you are untouched, and that the heir you provide will be the na-Baron’s and no one else’s.”

You felt your face grow warm with anger and embarrassment. “Is my word not enough?”

“I’m afraid this is tradition, milady.” He stared at you with intense, beady eyes. “The na-Baron was eager to honor the customs of your House. You do not want him to think you are refusing those of House Harkonnen, do you?”

No, you did not. The last thing you wanted was to anger Feyd-Rautha and potentially drive your future husband even further away from you. You did not want to seem rude, nor did you want to cause a fuss…and you had been examined by doctors before, though perhaps not for this exact reason. You could withstand a few moments of awkward discomfort, you reasoned, if it meant avoiding an unhappy marriage.

“You do not have any instruments,” you noted.

The doctor smiled, revealing the black teeth of the Harkonnens. “Medical instruments are not necessary for this, milady. Please, move to the bed so that I may examine you.”

You rose from your place at the simple table in the center of the room, abandoning your half-eaten breakfast. As you turned, you felt the doctor’s eyes watching you a chill prickled the back of your neck. You needed to relax, you told yourself; if you were expected to produce an heir, there would be many more invasive check ups far stranger than this. You had seen your mother pregnant with your younger siblings, and had heard her speaking with the midwives and Bene Gesserit woman who stalked the halls of the palace back home. Perhaps this was how you could ease yourself into all of that.

When you turned to face the doctor once more, you were relieved to see him standing just as you had left him. His smile unsettled you, but then so did most Harkonnen features, you realized as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Lay back and relax, milady.” He said, approaching you. “This won’t take but a moment.”

-0-

To your surprise, Feyd-Rautha joined you for lunch that day. A servant had been sent ahead to inform you that the na-Baron would be arriving to your chambers shortly, but when he did, you insisted on eating elsewhere. The encounter with the doctor had done more than simply unsettle you—it had rattled your nerves, leaving you feeling angry and confused. Though the man was long gone, you had no desire to remain in that room any longer than you absolutely had to, and lunch could not come early enough.

The na-Baron led you to his own chambers and food was served for you there, at a well-sized table just as austere as the rest of the building’s furniture and decor. He watched as you picked at your food, pushing it around on your plate but hardly eating any, and he took the opportunity to attempt conversation.

“We will be wed soon,” he said.

You wanted to roll your eyes. You were in no mood for small talk, but remembered who exactly you were dealing with and stifled a sigh. “Yes, na-Baron, we will.”

He smirked. “I look forward to the consummation, milady.”

You felt bile rising in your throat. The thought of anyone touching you again at the moment made you sick and angry, and you hated him for his people’s customs.

Feyd-Rautha tilted his head as he looked at you. “Do you not?”

“I am sure it will be everything we hope for and more,” you grumbled, looking down at your plate.

“It is unavoidable,” he growled. “We must produce an heir.”

“And we will!” You snapped, glaring up at him. “And you will be happy to hear that your doctor’s examination went as expected, my lord.”

The venom in your words stunned him almost as much as the words themselves. If Feyd weren’t so busy working through what exactly you had just said, he may have been tempted to bend you over that table just to show you how hard you made him, wedding night be damned…but there were other matters at hand now.

“Doctor?” He asked, eye twitching as his brow furrowed in thought.

“Yes, the one who confirmed that I am, in fact, pure,” you spat, voice laced with pure malice now.

You saw what could only be anger bubbling inside of him as he straightened his shoulders. “How exactly was this achieved?”

“By—by the usual means, I presume,” you said, quickly growing afraid of Feyd-Rautha’s infamous temper should it make an appearance. “He…confirmed that I am…that I have never…”

The na-Baron stood suddenly, knocking in the table in his haste. “Describe him to me.”

“I-I don’t know, he was a doctor!” You stammered. “He looked like every other Harkonnen, I don’t know—“

“What did he wear?”

“A-all black, like everyone here…a sash, a gray sash, around his waist, and he had no instruments—“

“What?” Feyd-Rautha roared, fists slamming down onto the table.

You jumped at the sudden outburst, staring in confusion as he stood. "I apologize if I've upset you, I don't understand why you--"

"Come." he hissed, grabbing your arm roughly and hauling you out of your seat.

You shrieked in surprise, stumbling to keep up as he dragged you out of the room and down the corridor. "Na-Baron, what is the meaning of this?!"

You received no answer. Feyd-Rautha was too angry to speak, shoulders hunched and full of violent tension as he stomped down the halls. Servants and Harkonnen nobles alike scattered upon seeing him, and as you twisted your head to look back at them, you saw them whispering and looking after you with pity on their faces.

"Feyd-Rautha, this is absurd!" you protested.

He came to a halt in front of a door. Though the wait for it to slide open only took a few moments, it felt like agony, and you had nowhere to look aside from the na-Baron's heaving form. You had never seen a person so angry before, so utterly enraged that he was practically incoherent. His silence was frightening, as when the door finally opened, you felt relieved...until he grabbed you once more and brought you inside with him.

The room was full of Harkonnen men, and as they looked to the door in surprise, you realized that you had entered some sort of lounge. You recognized their uniforms as military, and at the sight of their na-Baron, they all immediately stood, saluting him and bowing their heads.

"Which one?" Feyd-Rautha hissed, pulling you to stand at his side.

"What?" you asked, still confused by this entire operation.

"Which man?" he asked, voice strained as if he were holding himself back.

As you looked around at the Harkonnens, whose faces were stoic but whose eyes were frightened, you realized what your almost-husband was asking of you. It was difficult to tell them apart--their pale faces blended into one, their uniforms all nearly identical save for subtle distinctions of rank. Then, an idea; the gray sash you remembered, surely the doctor still wore it? If he were there in the room with you, perhaps you could--

Yes.

There he was.

You recognized his face and your lips pressed into a thin line. Feyd-Rautha, whose eyes had been glued to you, watching your every tiny, minute move, noticed the way your eyes lingered. His lip curled into a sneer as he turned to look at the man, whose comrades had all immediately stepped away, leaving him alone and exposed.

"Captain." the na-Baron's voice was dangerous. It was terrifying. You had never heard another human make a sound so guttural, so animalistic, and yet still manage to form it into a recognizable word.

As the man took a panicked step backwards, Feyd-Rautha stalked toward him. Your future husband smoothly pulled a long knife from a hilt on someone's hip as he passed them by, and you could only stare as the captain was brutalized.

You had never seen such agony.

When Feyd-Rautha was finished with him and the room had finally quieted after the screams died out, he stood from the fresh corpse and turned to you, holding a weapon now dripping with dark blood as he faced you.

"For you," he said simply, sincerely, bowing his head yet never breaking eye contact.

You stared. You had no idea how to react upon witnessing such a barbaric act, one that was sure to play out in your nightmares for weeks to come. When you felt panic rising in your chest you forced it down, and mustered all of the courage you possibly could to say, "Thank you, my lord," and bow your head in return.

He seemed satisfied with this as the knife clattered to the floor and he strode forward to you. "Let us leave."

You agreed wholeheartedly, following him and leaving the other soldiers to collect the pieces of their captain, now strewn across the lounge. Feyd-Rautha held your arm once more as he led you down the corridor, though this time, he was far more gentle. Something had been released from within him, his bloodlust sated and his anger quelled for the moment, and as the reality of what you had just witnessed him do crashed down around you, you stumbled to a halt and doubled over.

"Milady?" he asked, confused, before he turned to see you holding a hand over your mouth as you desperately tried not to be sick. His hands gripped your elbows as he faced you, undeterred by your retching. "What is this? He is dead, there is nothing to--"

"You killed him!" you choked out as you gasped for air, the bile in your throat still threatening to come up.

"Yes," he said, head tilted as he looked at you. "Of course I did. For you, as a gift." Then he paused, thinking. "...Was there another? An assistant?"

"No!" you managed to swallow down the last of the bile, throat burning as you grasped your sweat-slick forehead with your palm. "No, there was only him, but--why would you do such a thing?"

Now he was truly bewildered. "Why wouldn't I kill the animal whose hands touched you before mine?"

"Because...I..." you huffed, glaring at him. "What is going on? What is all of this, over a custom of your people? I did not enjoy his examination by any means, but I am doing everything in my power to accept the customs of House Harkonnen with grace and dignity no matter how awful they are and this entire spectacle has now made that very difficult, na-Baron!"

"House Harkonnen does not practice such a thing," he sneered, eyes angry once more.

Your shoulders dropped in horror. "...Excuse me?"

"That man should never have been within a thousand lengths of you."

"...Oh..." the panic had returned, but now, it felt much worse, and your voice sounded impossibly small. You lowered your hand to your lips, chewing your nail in agitation.

"Do you understand?" Feyd-Rautha asked, still holding your elbows.

"...Yes, I'm afraid I do..."

He leaned in, his forehead meeting yours as he still stared at your eyes. You found his to be a deep, dark blue, an abyss that threatened to swallow you up. But right now, you wouldn't mind such a thing, if it meant you could hide away from the world forever.

"No one will every lay a hand on you." he growled. "No one but me."

"...You killed him for me," you whispered.

"I did."

"You avenged me...yet you did not proclaim your reason in front of those other men?"

"I do not need a reason to take a life," he barked a laugh.

You just nodded.

"And I would not humiliate my wife in such a manner." he straightened once more, letting go of your elbows and offering you his arm once more.

"Thank you," you said as you took it and began walking.

"It does not matter to me if you another man has had you before." he said, staring forward. "I know the children you will bear will be mine."

He said it with an arrogance that may have annoyed you had the situation been different. Now, it was a comfort that he had such a big ego.

"That is correct, na-Baron," you said, sighing in relief. At least the whole ordeal was over now, and you doubted anyone would be foolish enough to cross your path now that one man had already been publicly eviscerated.

"Call me Feyd."

"Thank you," you glanced up at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Feyd."

[sapphosclosefriend]

- Money, Power, Glory pt 1 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: suggestive

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, successful and rich CEO, books an urgent meeting with someone who she might be able to finally destress with. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, BIG age gap (N=56, R=24), suggestive themes.

A/N: this story contains mature topics so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Just as an introduction hehe don't worry, their first time is in the next one, I won't leave it out! Thanks sooo much to @rt--link and @supercorpdanbeau for being the kindest and both helping me out ❤️ As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

You still remember clearly the day you received the call from your agent. You honestly thought it was a cruel joke of hers at first, but the serious, yet excited, tone in her voice easily reassured you of the realness of the situation. The fact that she was calling you in the first place, and not quickly messaging you, was clear proof of just how important and urgent the matter was. Not only were you requested for that same night, meaning that the trusted woman deemed the new customer as important enough to ditch the advance days you usually demanded, but the house you needed to get to was of no regular person.

You were a high end escort, pleasing la creme de la creme only, well, at least in terms of monetary assets. You, and the agency you worked with, were known for your discretion, professionalism and skills, an overall level of competence that simply tended to attract clients of a certain status. And that's how you met her, the Natasha Romanoff herself, CEO of a multi-billion company she had created from the ground up in her decades-long career. But why was she so important? She would've been the richest one of your clients, it was as simple as that. Pretty much every single one of them were at the head of, if not close to, big and different companies, all with the highest power of the twenty-first century in their hands, money. You had actually thought about dipping your toes in the world of politics once, which was not so surprisingly filled with countless requests interested in your realm of expertise, but thanks to long consideration and much advice, you had decided to avoid its risks, settling on who you knew, after all, had what you wanted, filthy rich assholes. And gosh, wasn't she the richest one of them all.

Aside from her status, the thought of such a woman, so idolized she seemed unattainable, who could and probably had everything in the world, asking for your company, intrigued you immensely. That day, during every single hour you had spent to thoroughly take care of your appearance just for her, anticipation completely took over you. You knew she was beautiful and you genuinely thought she was fucking hot, which wasn't necessarily to be taken for granted in your line of work, but what you found yourself needing to know, and consequently making your interest in her grow even more, was how she was going to be in private. Was she going to be just like one of those countless naggingly cocky know-it-all's who thought of themselves as some sex gods, and gods in general, but really couldn't even figure out if you had cum yet? You found yourself almost wanting her to be different than everybody else, because deep down you felt like, even if she was the most annoying, full of herself bitch ever, you would’ve gladly tried to satisfy every single one of her needs and taken anything from her with a smile on your face. Ok, maybe scrolling for an hour through the internet looking up information about her and consequently ending up lost through any picture of her you could find wasn’t the best idea, but what could you say, you had a bit of a sweet spot for powerful women.

What you gathered from your innocent stalking session, though, was mainly about her countless successes in life but also concerning some gossip regarding her not so successful marriage life. It didn’t bother you, barely anything about your clients did at that point, but it only intrigued you more about why she wanted someone like you. She could’ve had anybody, she was a walking goddess with her pockets more than full and ladies most definitely falling at her feet left and right, yet there she was, in her car, getting back home after one of the longest and most tiring weeks of the past few months to wait for a girl she’d only seen a couple pictures of to take her mind off of everything. Her driver immediately knew not to even greet her by her frustrated sigh and the pinching of the bridge of her own nose as soon as she got in the car and immediately took off to her desired destination, making Natasha thank any and all gods for the nice relief after such displays of incompetence she had to endure from basically her whole staff. She was right at her limit and all the pent up anger and irritation from the week was finally starting to crack her composed facade at the prospect of the imminent weekend slowly reaching her. She didn’t even want to have dinner, she just needed to be at home, everyone out of her goddamn house and a pussy to unload some stress into. If she had to be honest, in that specific moment, she even missed her disastrous married life and the perk of having a wife always waiting for her at home, ready to meet her needs at the end of the day.

She, unfortunately, never felt the symptoms of "true love" with any of her ex wives, but the thought of how badly it had gone wrong with all of them still pained her a little every time her mind drifted to that phase of her life. During her successful yet busy life she'd been through her fair share of failed marriages, all with beautiful women she'd deeply cared for, but all eventually focused on one thing only, her absence. The first thing she'd always made sure to make very, very clear was just how little time she had to dedicate to anything outside of her company, which unfortunately included her personal life. Her best guess was that the haziness coming from a brand new love must've made it hard to get a grasp on her words…every single time, apparently.

It didn't matter anymore, though, because what she had to focus on now seemed to be much more important than any matter ever had. The quick, warm shower she had just enough time to take as soon as she got home was thankfully able to wash away the surface level anger that was starting to make her temple throb, preventing her from being a rude prick for the rest of the night. She was aware, after all, of the favor you were doing to her by working the night without any notice and all she wanted to do was be respectful for your kind availability. Being her perfectionist self, and deep down maybe even wanting you to like her, she knew she had to focus on not losing her mind on minor things like her outfit, so she decided to try to at least appear to be careless about her appearance and only focus the last bits of mental strength she had on the more relaxing, pleasurable parts of the night. Of course she still couldn't help but fix her hair just a little and change her sweatshirt for a still casual but more put together beige, cashmere sweater. She'd had it for years and, despite its condition not being the best, she couldn't bring herself to get rid of it, it just reminded her too much of- nevermind. A few small holes and pulled threads on her top would certainly be the last thought on your mind anyway.

She didn't even realize she was starting to zone out while still looking at herself in the mirror, when the sudden, distant ring of the front door slightly startled her, effectively making her get herself back together. What was minutes away from happening truly dawned on her as she descended the stairs to the first floor and, for a brief moment, as she walked through the entrance corridor and saw the blurry outline of your figure through the frosted glass of the tall door, time seemed to slow down and for the first time in years she felt a small twinge of anxiety creeping up on her the closer she got to you. She was really doing it, she was really about to follow the advice of her idiot Stark friend and didn't mind it too much. Maybe she was really getting old, maybe age was starting to actually play some tricks on her, because, as her hand pushed the cold handle of the entrance door and started to pull it open, the snippets of hair she could start to see of you lit a confident fire in her that only burned more vividly as your form was finally fully displayed to her, making it impossible for her to suppress the excitement she suddenly felt at the sight of you in person, looking at her through your lashes with subtle faux innocence she could see right through.

"Good evening, Ms Romanoff"

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Part 2

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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

summary: when you ask about your boyfriend's home, you get more than you bargained for; but considering it's him, you don't mind, right?

pairing: jade x gn! reader

warnings: fluff, a little suggestive, nonsexual nudity; i’m suffering from a serious case of eel on the brain so you must suffer with me; can’t stop thinking about bioluminescent eel brothers and just mixed that in with jade’s ceremonial robes home screen lines

twisted wonderland masterlist

“I’m captivated by the human custom of changing clothes to suit the occasion,” Jade hummed as deft fingers tied your previously crooked tie and then straightened out the collar of your uniform shirt. “It reminds me of fish who change their scales to match their environment.”

“That sounds like an interesting ability to have,” you chuckled as you combed the long black strand of hair behind his ear, mesmerised by the way the ambient light of the nearly empty Mostro Lounge reflected in his heterochromic eyes. Even with him sitting down and you standing between his legs, he was tall enough to where you were nearly on eye-level. “I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess mers don’t really wear clothes then?”

“It depends on the mer, really, though accessorising is far more common than what you humans would consider clothes. Those in brighter waters seem to enjoy bejewelling themselves for outings, though it doesn’t serve much of a purpose in the deep.” Jade smiled, though this smile lacked the usual nerve-wrecking edge it held when others were around. When he was satisfied with his work, his hands slid down to rest on your waist. 

“On top of having to learn how to walk, having to wear all these layers of clothing must have felt really restricting,” you said, your hand mapping the path from his jaw down to his shoulder to play with the lapels of his blazer. “Though I have to say, you do look very good in your school uniform.”

“Fufu, you flatter me, my pearl,” the merman chuckled. “Even so, you look much more lovely in anything you wear. I’m still not accustomed to clothes with excess fabric. My people aren’t like aquarium fish with their long tail fins, after all.”

“I’m still in awe you managed to pull off this transformation of body and habitat so gracefully,” you thought out loud. “If my living conditions changed so drastically, I would’ve felt like a fish out of water… Quite literally, I guess.”

“Admittedly, those first months were rather rough, that’s true. But the world above the Coral Sea holds so many new experiences, I do not regret my decision.” His hands gently squeezed your sides at that, his eyes never leaving yours. Faintly you wondered whether his people could enrapture humans with just their gaze or if it was your own heart which rendered you defenceless against him.

“I’m also glad you came here, Jade,” you confessed, voice coming out barely above a whisper. This time you couldn’t stop your palms from cupping his cheeks between them as he brought you just close enough to where Azul couldn’t reprimand him for indecency. “Would you mind telling me more about the differences you experienced? I want to learn more about your home, too.”

“Gladly,” the moray smiled at you and it warmed your heart despite the hint of sharp teeth showing through. “Let’s see… Ah, I enjoy looking up at the stars, especially when out in the mountains. It’s a very different feeling than from the ocean and it makes me forget the passage of time, even though I have no particular interest in astrology.”

“Sounds like a date in the making, if you ask me,” you grinned knowingly. Every so often, Jade pestered you into switching clubs to the mountain lovers club and while you had yet to relent, you did join him on hikes frequently.  

“I will hold you to that,” he promised, eyes crinkling at the edges as if he had gotten just what he wanted. Knowing him, he probably had been gunning for exactly that without you noticing. “Now then, what else did I find astounding when I first came here? Most of it are probably minor things to you, like sneezing, cracking your joints or getting a sunburn. Still hearing the first two was very alarming initially. Azul and I thought Floyd had broken a bone.”

“To be fair, sometimes it does sound like something went incredibly wrong when someone cracks their spine or neck,” you shuddered, reminded of the sounds Ace and Deuce had produced in the past which had you halfway to the nurses office already. “A sunburn must have been a nasty surprise though.”

“That it was,” Jade sighed. “There’s hardly anything worse than drying out for a merman, so we didn’t spend much time in the sun anyway. But to learn that a human’s skin is so easily burned by something they need for their health… Speaking of sunlight, considering it does not reach the depths of my home, everything seemed excessively bright up here too in the beginning.”

“Woah, maybe I underestimated how cold and dark your home is, by my standards at least. Like, no sunlight at all? I’d probably freeze,” you laughed, goosebumps forming under your blazer and shirt at the mere thought.

“Hm, I guess it must seem so to you. When I first learnt about the summer temperatures at land I also thought it wouldn’t be bearable,” Jade chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes that you couldn’t place yet. “But an environment devoid of light gives way to many new possibilities in which life can evolve. Sure, you have to always be on guard for what’s lurking around the next corner but you also get to appreciate the colourful glow of bioluminescent fish and plants.”

“The first part sounds terrifying, to be quite honest.” You knew he only ever brought these things up to get a reaction out of you but you still wondered what his life was like to be able to say it with such a calm expression. Instead, you chose to focus on something more pleasant. “Though the bioluminescence sounds beautiful. Back home there were beaches where algae turned the sand and waves a fluorescent blue, so I wonder what it would look like underwater.”

“Would you like to see?” Jade asked, one hand sneaking from your waist to intertwine his fingers with yours. Anticipation was almost tangible in the air, yet you couldn’t figure out why for the life you. So despite the hairs on your neck standing on end, you nodded. Immediately, Jade had risen to his full height and was pulling you along through Octavinelle’s winding hallways.

“Jade! Where are we going?” You laughed, not expecting the sudden switch up. Though that was probably on you; despite hiding it much better than his brother, Jade still tended to do only what was fun to him. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” your boyfriend smiled conspiratorially over his shoulder, eyes twinkling like a kid’s on Christmas. He was seriously cute when he got excited about something, even if it meant finding yourself at the end of his teasing more often than not. Considering he was very fond of growing all sorts of things in his terrariums, perhaps he had managed to raise some sort of luminescent plant and this was a ploy for him to gush about his terrariums? 

Confusion set in once more, however, when you walked in a different direction than his room. Sure, you didn’t know the structure of Octavinelle all too well but you’d think you’d find the one room you had visited most in the dorm. Wracking your brain in order to figure out what was happening in his, you almost bumped into the moray as he came to a halt in front  of one of the many doors. You had never been here before, so you braced yourself for any- and everything as he twisted the doorknob.

The first thing you noticed was the smell of salt and the humidity in the air. Then you noted how you couldn’t see anything in the pitch black darkness. As if he heard your thoughts, a small, dim light flickered on above, revealing tiled floors leading up to a large pool. Of course Octavinelle would have a pool of this size. 

Following Jade to the edge of the pool, you peered into the water to find only your reflection staring back at you from the water, the lack of light turning it from clear to near intransparent.

“Seems kinda of irresponsible to cultivate plants or fish in a school swimming pool, don’t you think?” You voiced your doubts as you remembered why you came here in the first place. “How deep is this thing anyway? I can’t see anything in there.”

“Who said anything about fish or plants?” Jade’s chuckle reverberated around the room from behind you and when you turned to see what was so funny, you saw him neatly folding his uniform blazer before starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait, hold on.” You held up your hands as you tried putting one and one together, just to end up at three. “Not that I particularly mind where this is going but what’s happening right now?”

There was a shit-eating grin stretching across Jade’s lips and revealing his sharp teeth as he shrugged off his shirt, sauntering over to where you were standing as he slipped his gloves off. 

“Didn’t you say you wanted to see bioluminescence for yourself?” At his newfound proximity, you quickly averted your eyes from his swimmer’s body, to feign at least some form of decency, which seemed to amuse him even more. “Have I never told you that my people possess a form of bioluminescence ourselves?”

“You conveniently forgot to mention that.”

“An oversight on my part, my apologies,” Jade hummed, a hand placed over his heart, sounding not sorry at all.

“That aside, it’s not like I brought any swimwear,” you sighed, looking at his eyes and decidedly nowhere else. “Nor can I breathe or open my eyes in saltwater.”

Out of thin air, seemingly, Jade procured a small phial of shimmering liquid; the same one Azul had given to you when you went to the Coral Sea. At his unreadable smile, you raised an eyebrow but nonetheless took the potion from him. “How much of this did you plan out?”

“Fufu, do you really think I would carefully steer a conversation a certain way just to give me an excuse to bring you here?” When your answer was a resounding ‘yes’, he grinned even wider. “I see, this is the impression you have of me.”

“Also, this still doesn’t solve our first predicament,” you reminded him, yet already finding your resolve to deny him weakening. Damn the effect he had on you.

“I can’t see the predicament you speak of at all,” Jade mused, hands landing on your hips again as his fingers pinched the fabric of your uniform. “Perhaps this is a good chance for you to experience how a merperson would feel, swimming freely without any restrictive layers. You were so eager to learn earlier.”

“Jade Leech, are you suggesting I go skinny dipping in a public college pool?” You only received a closed-eye smile as a response as his hands tugged more of your shirt out of your pants. “I can’t believe you. And I can’t believe myself for going along with this…”

The vice housewarden was more than okay with undoing his former handiwork and helping you out of your tie, blazer and shirt. When it was time to remove the rest of your clothes, he left you to your own devices to do the same. For a second you contemplated leaving on your underwear but decided against it at the thought of having to walk back to your dorm with it either soaked or missing.

A splash behind you drew your attention as you draped your last article of clothing over the back of a chair you had found and you chugged down the potion, then ambled over to the pool’s edge again. Dipping your toes in, you breathed a sigh of relief when the water wasn’t too frigid, yet still settled for sitting down and hanging your legs in first.

After a minute or so of acclimating to the temperature, you wondered where your boyfriend had gone, unable to see anything in the dark water. Just then, a cold hand wrapped around your ankle. Despite knowing what -or rather who- it was, you still jerked your leg upwards, but it wasn’t like you got very far, Jade’s strength keeping you exactly where you were. A pair of mismatched eyes stared at you from right under the surface before Jade’s head emerged and broke through the water’s surface. 

“Looks like I caught myself a pearl,” he mused before gliding his webbed fingers up your bare claves, sending a jolt up your spine, but not from the coldness. Crossing his arms over your knees, he laid his head down on them so he could look at you properly, his bare chest resting against your legs. If it weren’t for the long shadow of his tail moving right under the water’s surface, he would have reminded you of an overgrown housecat.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do now?” You played along, running your hand through his wet, teal hair and gently caressing the fins where his ears would be. Sighing under your touch, his long nails absentmindedly traced over your thighs, careful not to  hurt you. “Please don’t eat me.”

Cracking his left eye open at your teasing, he pressed a lingering kiss above your knee, his teeth lightly gracing the skin there as he pulled away. Definitely not enough to hurt in any way, but enough to remind you of the danger he could pose; a notion that sent adrenaline racing through your body for all the wrong reasons. He winked at you, maybe as a promise for later. “We’ll see about that.”

As he parted from you, he pushed himself up in a display of awe-inspiring core strength and pulled you against him by your waist and thighs, taking you with him as he slowly sank under the surface again. Your hands tried finding purchase on his shoulders, yet continued to slip over the slick covering his skin. Jade, however, had no difficulties holding on to you.

On instinct you had closed your eyes and held your breath as you submerged but the careful caress of a thumb over your cheekbone prompted you to open them and take a tentative lungful of air. Just as back in the Coral Sea, the sensation was weird and unfamiliar but you didn’t drown, which you noted down as a pro.

Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue as you looked at Jade. Bright spots glowed on his chest and the stripes running over his ribs glowed in an equally stunning teal. Backing up so he was a good arm’s length away, you studied the rest of him, finding that the stripes over his hips as well as clusters of spots on his arms and fins all seemed to be luminescent.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, yet he still pulled you flush against his torso again. Without much hesitation you started tracing the constellations you could reach. “They’re like stars.”

The moray was glad you couldn’t see his face from your position for an uncharacteristically genuine expression of shock decorated his face. Nobody back at home had ever complimented him so genuinely without any ulterior motives. Yes, he had been the one who instigated this little stunt but he hadn’t factored in that you always managed to tug on his heartstrings in the end. At first, he had been a little wary, wondering what you thought about his merform, especially after he had chased you around the sea like this before, but he realised he shouldn’t have worried.

“And you flatter me yet again,” he chuckled instead, tone and expression back to his usual show of amusement. Still, he looped his long tail around your middle once as his hands wandered over your curves and stroked along your skin that was so much more delicate compared to his. “Should I perhaps be wary that you are lowering my defences for nefarious reasons?”

“Ah and here I was hoping you wouldn't notice,” you sighed, fingertips brushing over the bright spots littering his tail as you held his gaze, his yellow eye almost glowing against the darkness that surrounded you. “Despite all the warnings I’ve intended to steal from you. This, to be precise.”

Maybe it was the fact it was just the two of you down here and the rest of the world was forgotten, that drove you to be so straightforward and sappy. But the rhythmic beating of his heart underneath your palm dispelled any feelings of shyness or awkwardness at the -frankly cliché- confession of affection. 

Not that Jade seemed to mind either. Before you caught up to what was happening he closed the gap between you and pressed his lips against yours. Perhaps taking the potion earlier was inconsequential after all as Jade moved with the intention of robbing you of all air anyway, the webbed fingers on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wanted you. You cursed your lungs for burning with the need for oxygen, never having yearned for gills as much as in this moment, if it meant you could keep kissing him for just a second longer. Before he parted from you completely he bit down on your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but just so to leave it tingling from his attention. 

“What a silly little darling,” Jade mused, tracing the shallow indents of his teeth with the pad of his thumb as he drank up the expression on your face. The coil of his tail around you grew just a tad tighter, yet still careful not to hurt you, as a sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him. “Everybody knows you can’t steal what’s already yours.”

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[notjustjavierpena]

Diner

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: My first darkfic and based on that one picture of Pedro in Freaky Tales. READ THE TAGS!!!!

Summary: You get more than you paid for during your visit to a roadside diner.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con, degrading language, condescending language, blood and violence, threats of violence, forced masturbation, forced orgasm, forced creampie, reader does NOT enjoy this! 

Word count: 3.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52941784

Diner

Something about roadside diners makes you feel like you are in an alternate universe. It starts the second that you step out of your car and onto the asphalt, a weird sensation of not being in the real world overtaking you as you listen to the cars drive by at a dizzying speed. There are a few cars here already, but you suspect that most of them belong to the people staying at the motel just next to the small and informal restaurant instead of people eating dinner. It is late after all, so late that you can see you are just in time for a coffee before they close. 

You’ve been driving home in the summer heat for your sister’s wedding, crossing state lines for days now to make it in time, and it means quick dinners, cheap coffee, and sleeping in your car. At this point, you’ve actually come to like the greasy fried food and the coffee that almost resembles tar with how strong it is. It helps you regulate your body temperature in the car, forcing you to cool down because it’s scalding hot in your stomach. 

A tiny bell rings as you walk through the door. The checkered tile floor seems slightly sticky as you move through the place with the taste of stale coffee already present on your tongue as if the setting has triggered a memory. You notice the single customer sitting in a booth along the window, all broad shoulders and sleeves rolled up as he eats two slices of toast with eggs and bacon, but you don’t think much of the man as much as you think about eating breakfast foods at night. It’s always oddly satisfying, weirdly rebellious. 

You squeeze in between two chairs from the line along the counter. You brush away a few granules of sugar from it, smiling slightly as you are approached by what you assume is the only staff at this time. 

“Just coffee?” The lady behind the counter asks as she notices you not looking at the menu and not checking out the pie underneath a glass dome to your left. 

“That’d be great,” you reply.

“And no milk or nothin’?” She continues. 

You shake your head no and look around at nothing of importance the second she walks away to start up the coffee machine. It gurgles a few moments later. 

Behind you, the man has finished his meal. He gets out of the booth to use the restroom, leaving you to sip your coffee alone with the waitress who makes no effort to start up a conversation with you (then again, you don’t start chatting with her either). 

Time passes. The song playing from the radio in the background ends. The stranger reemerges and shakes his hands dry on his way to his table again. He doesn’t sit but instead carries his plate to the counter. 

“Thanks, Doris, great like always,” he smiles, turning to you briefly to acknowledge your presence. He nods in greeting. 

“Anytime, Joel,” Doris blinks at him, batting her lashes. She is clearly infatuated, and you can understand why; the two of them seem to be about the same age. Joel is tall with broad shoulders in an open flannel with a t-shirt underneath, his hands look rough and used to hard labor, and his hair is slicked back by what you don’t know whether is gel or sweat but it looks like he has run his fingers through it several times today.

“Well, I’m off, see ya tomorrow,” he turns to go gather his things at the table where he has been eating. You think nothing more of it.

“Anything else, honey?” Doris asks and you shake your head.

“No thanks,” you say politely, “I’m all good.”

“I’ll have my smoke break then,” she states, untying her apron and hanging it on the wall only to proceed to dig out a package of cigarettes from the pocket on the front, “You can just leave the money on the counter when you leave.”

And then it’s just you and Joel and an eerie feeling settles in your stomach at being alone with a man you don’t know, especially in between cities and even moreso at night. 

You glance over your shoulder to watch him carefully but he is just picking through his wallet to leave a tip on the table. You look straight ahead again and shake your head at how ridiculous you feel about your anxiety, rolling your eyes at how you could think such things about someone who is having eggs at midnight. 

Still, something feels wrong. You steal another glance over your shoulder and see the table with the empty plate, and the crumbled bill beside it. What you don’t see is Joel, which is weird because you haven’t heard the bell from the door being opened and clo-

A rough hand settles on the back of your neck. It grips you hard until it hurts, causing you to crane your neck and gasp loudly into the room. Joel’s voice makes your skin crawl, “Fuck, you are pretty.” 

You hear a deep inhale through the nose followed by a satisfied sigh, “Smell pretty too. Been driving all day alone?”

“What are you doing?” You are frozen to the spot. He has trapped you between the counter, two barstool chairs, and himself. The hand holding you in place is uncomfortable but mostly, its iron grip has started to make you lightheaded due to his thumb and index finger pressing into your carotid artery. It makes you not want to move in case he grabs harder. 

“I just realized that I haven’t had dessert in a while ‘n’ pie just doesn’t seem to cut it,” he replies, breathing labored already from how he has control over what your body can or cannot do. The words make you squirm but you still, for some reason, haven’t thought about screaming for help.

“No,” your voice quivers and bravely you try to decline the offer, “I don’t want that. Please.”

“Afraid you’ll like it too much?” You can feel he has moved his head closer, can feel the smirk in his voice. You feel sick like you might actually puke if you weren’t working on an empty stomach.

“Doris’ll come back,” you reason. 

“She’s closing up in ten,” he laughs as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard, “She’ll use every second of those ten minutes to have what she considers fresh air but I don’t think we need much longer, do you?”

You whimper, and then suddenly you’re on the move but it’s not by yourself. No. Joel is hauling you backward, moving you around like you weigh nothing, and causing your feet to stumble several times. However, he doesn’t seem bothered by your clumsiness caused by terror, just uses a bit more force until he can shove you down onto an empty table. 

That’s when you feel panic starting to rise in your body. You start thrashing, grabbing at whatever you can reach on the table to throw it down onto the floor and make a racket. You cry too, shock setting in and causing tears to flow desperately as emotions become too much. This is it, you think, this is what prey must feel when they’re trying to escape.

Joel growls in anger, holding you roughly in place so your efforts are to no avail, “Shut the fuck up. Stop crying.”

You absolutely don’t. That is until your forehead and nose connect with the surface of the table. Joel has pushed you on the back of your head so harshly that your face has been violently knocked down onto the table, and it hurts, prickling in your nostrils and nausea settling more in your stomach. The impact makes you feel dizzy enough to not continue fighting him. 

A sudden taste of iron fills your mouth. You are bleeding from your nose, you realize, and it replaces the salty taste of your tears and drips onto the surface of the table. Pathetically, you try grabbing at anything in front of you and you end up smearing the bloodstains across the white. It’s not the sight that makes you gag but the fact that Joel seems aroused by it. 

“Relax,” he responds to your whine, “‘tis just a bit of blood.”

But that’s not what causes your noise. It’s the position you are in; it makes your ass stick out and Joel’s crotch rests against it whilst he reaches out for your hair, bunching it up in his strong hand and creating a makeshift ponytail to tug on. You try to make sense of what is happening but all you can focus on is how big he seems in his jeans, rock hard against you as he yanks your head up by the hair. It may be your foggy mind’s way of protecting yourself from realizing what this is, particularly because you had a brief thought earlier about how nice his hands would feel if they touched you. They feel horrible.

When he straightens behind you, his free hand starts tugging on your pants. He is rough in his movements but careful enough to make sure that nothing rips, knowing he shouldn’t leave evidence of your ravish behind. 

“Please,” you slur with desperation.

“No begging now,” he purposely misunderstands, “I’ll give you what you need real soon, sweetheart.”

When your pants sit around your knees, he lets the hand go down between your legs. Your mind is suddenly very clear. 

“Are you a virgin?” He asks with a dark smile evident in his voice. His hand skims along the inside of your thigh, and you feel your feet trying to move away. His fingertips are so close to where you don’t want them. He kicks your ankles hard enough to make you unable to breathe, unable to balance on your feet so you can’t even try to flee.

You whimper in reply. 

The satisfied growl he lets out sends a shiver down your spine, cold sweat making you feel lightheaded. 

“No,” you finally manage to stutter out, trying to convince yourself that replying is going to make the heartbeat in your chest less intense as you’ve made yourself less interesting to him. Instead, you realize that you have only disappointed him.

“Just when I got my hopes up,” he tuts, suddenly palming your cunt through your underwear. You want to scream and cry but somehow, you simply cannot and it dawns on you that your body is too scared of making him furious to do your most instinctive act of fighting back, “Can’t say I’m happy, but I am surprised at having a whore on my hands. Wait till I tell the guys back home ‘bout you, they’ll be so envious.”

His fingers curl around the fabric of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and the fabric snaps at the violent yanks that he does. It was only the pants, you think, it was only those that needed to be saved for keeping up appearances. 

The way the skin of his hand touches your bare thighs feels like fire, and you don’t know whether to feel relief that nothing has happened yet or become hysterical when your underwear sits around your knees too; you know the rest, know what he is about to do and now, you just have to wait for it to be over. 

And then briefly, it’s gone but you don’t dare think that he might have changed his mind but when you lift your head, you can see him in the reflection of the window, sucking on his own fingers to wet them until they’re shiny with saliva. 

“Stay still,” he commands, and the hand on the back of your neck slides down so he can rest his forearm on the small of your back to still hold you down. His wetted fingers go right between your legs to search for your clit, and he presses down on it until you let out a whimper from a sudden state of arousal slowly taking over your body. 

He rubs you off for a few minutes where you fight every single nerve in your body to not enjoy it but suddenly you let out your first involuntary moan, pussy starting to wet against your will and shame setting in. You rest your cheek against the table, tears sliding down over your nose as you occasionally moan helplessly. Your poor treacherous body burns deep below your navel, and the tingling in your core makes you think that maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad. 

“That’s it,” he says in a gentle voice, a tone that makes you hold back a gag, “Knew you wanted it, just needed a little encouragement.”

“Please,” you sob, “I can pay you.”

“I don’t want cash,” he replies simply, sliding his digits through your slick, “I want you, sweetheart, and it seems this pussy wants me too.”

Joel’s fingers leave you and you hear him suck his fingers clean with a hum. The air feels cool against your swollen cunt which is so wet by now that you start to believe, albeit barely, that a part of you wants this. How can you say you don’t when you are close to dripping?

“I’m gonna let go of you now but if you try anything, I’ll cut your fucking tits off with a steak knife, got it?” Joel’s threat doesn’t seem empty.

You nod, paralyzed, and he stretches. You shiver at the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper being pulled down. There’s a bit of shuffling and then you feel the blunt head of his dick poking into your ass. 

He doesn’t waste his time it seems, because he rubs the tip through your wetness and starts to breach you. Color drains from your face at the realization of his size. 

“No, no no no,” you pant as he pushes into you. He teases you open but only at first; you let out a sharp cry as he enters you fully and with no warning. The head had been a warning of how big he was going to be but now that he is sheathed inside of you to the brim, you feel like nothing could have ever prepared you for his size even if you had wanted him. He kisses your cervix, splits you open, and your cunt clenches in an attempt to push him out and pull him in.

“Fuck,” he moans and draws out the word, “Tight heaven.”

He fucks you like a ravenous animal and you turn into a helplessly moaning mess, held down to the point where your hips are hurting against the table because Joel uses all of his weight to pleasure himself with you. 

His fingers dig into your hips enough to bruise and his zipper gnaws into the back of your thigh. You have never taken anyone as big as him before, and it’s almost an out-of-body experience to be stretched out again and again by him. He swears above you, rhythm faltering, every time you accidentally find a shred of pleasure in his thrusts.

You feel fucked out of your mind but you are stuck there, having to take each bruising thrust that sends pain shooting through your body each time Joel’s cock bumps the back of your cunt (which is every other crash of his hips due to his size). 

“Ah,” you whimper shamefully when he nudges against your g-spot. It takes some of the pain away, and soon, you let out a breathless gasp. Would you actually enjoy him if circumstances had been different? If he’d chatted you up and booked a room at the motel next door? 

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut. It leaves you to focus on the way that your cunt squelches from your wetness, how Joel grunts behind you as he continues driving into you. 

“Listen to that, you really think your whore-pussy would sound like that if you didn’t want this?” He taunts.

“No, Joel,” you say without any tone to your voice.

“You wanna come, sweetheart? Touch yourself,” he pulls you back by your hips a little until you are able to move your hand to your crotch. His thrusts relent and bring you relief from your throbbing and pained muscles. You don’t move, and he grows impatient and cruel. You almost want to laugh at the contrast of his next line but you find yourself too scared of the unknown, “You think you get a choice here, you little bitch? Do it now.”

Reluctantly, your hand slides down between your legs but you still feel relief as you start touching yourself. In the moment, you try to remind yourself of what you like to do when it’s just you alone and you find that your cunt stirs with interest. It’s followed by a string of ahs as you begin to actually enjoy it, circling your clit with determination to finish.

“That’s it, wanna feel you milk me,” his breath is more ragged now. He is close you realize, and he is not going to pull out. 

It feels shameful when you make yourself come, cunt setting off into spasms that should feel beautiful but just makes you hate yourself for enjoying the way they make you feel. You moan louder than intended, completely at the mercy of the pleasure that has been built up deep inside of you and is now coursing through your nervous system.

Joel seems to understand your conflict, radiating claustrophobic warmth as he speeds up his hips as if he is using your body to masturbate with you. His voice is breathy as he talks, he sounds nearly on the edge of coming, “Shh… It’s supposed to feel good. It should feel good.”

He finishes inside of you a moment later, warm and sticky with a looming threat of what could happen from this act. The groan he lets out is one you don’t think you will forget. He gives you his final thrusts, fucking you through each spurt of his cock, “Take it, oh fuck. Thaaat’s it.”

Time stands still after that. You don’t move despite him removing himself from you. Instead, you listen to him tugging himself back into his jeans, the rustling of the denim, and then the noise of his zipper and him buckling his belt. 

After a moment more, his hands pull up off your shredded underwear and then he tugs your jeans up over your hips again. He hauls you up and holds your arms tightly so you don’t fall over once more. You don’t look at him and it seems to infuriate him. With a strong grip around your jaw, he forces your head towards him, “Hey, look at me.”

When you still don’t, he shakes your head a little, “Eyes here.”

You eventually follow through, vision blurry from how much you have cried. He scans your face, “You don’t tell anyone about this or I swear. I don’t usually hunt down pretty girls like you but I will. You go into your car and you drive away. I’ll watch you from here. Got it?”

Your body aches as you nod but your expression is blank, even when Joel pushes you out of his grip so you stumble and even when you see him stuff your panties into his pocket. 

“Go,” he snaps when you’re still immovable. 

You don’t know how but suddenly, you’re walking out the door, barely noticing where your feet hit the ground, and doing exactly what he has said. You probably shouldn’t even be driving let alone on the highway but you do until you feel nothing at all except his come dripping from your aching cunt.

.

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[atinyslittleworld]

A Flicker of Ink

tattoo artist!san x assistant!reader

Summary: Tattoo artist Choi San and his assistant Y/N find unexpected romance during a blackout

Genre: romance, fluff

Warnings: mention of darkness and rain

.

San was a renowned tattoo artist in the heart of the city. His intricate designs and meticulous attention to detail had earned him a loyal clientele. His shop, Inked Impressions, was a haven for those seeking to express their stories through art etched into their skin. The walls were adorned with framed sketches, vibrant tattoos, and pictures of satisfied customers, each one a testament to San's skill.

Y/N, his assistant, was a paradox wrapped in a tough exterior. She handled appointments, managed supplies, and kept the shop running smoothly. With her leather jacket, combat boots, and an air of indifference, she was often mistaken for someone who didn’t care much about anything. Yet, beneath her tough exterior, there was a deep-seated passion for the art of tattooing and a respect for San's talent, even if it was rarely expressed openly.

Their days were filled with constant bickering. Y/N would scoff at San's meticulous nature, calling him a perfectionist, while he would retort that she was too reckless and needed to take her responsibilities more seriously. Despite the friction, their dynamic worked, and the shop thrived.

One late evening, after a particularly heated argument about the organization of the ink bottles, the shop was eerily quiet. The last customer had left, and the two were closing up. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound, a reminder of the long hours they had put in.

"Why can't you just admit that I was right for once?" San grumbled, locking the cash register.

"Because you're never right," Y/N shot back, stacking the remaining ink bottles on the shelf. "You're just lucky I'm here to keep you from making a mess of things."

San was about to retort when suddenly, the lights flickered and went out, plunging the shop into darkness. The hum of the lights ceased, leaving a void of silence that was almost deafening.

San, trying to lighten the mood, chuckled. "Guess we forgot to pay the electric bill, huh?"

Y/N didn’t respond with her usual snark. Instead, she stood frozen. "San?" Her voice, usually so confident, was now small and vulnerable.

San's joking demeanor evaporated instantly. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"I... I don't like the dark," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I'm scared of it."

San's heart ached at her admission. He reached out, finding her arm in the pitch black and pulling her close. "It's okay," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm here. It's just a power outage. The storm outside must have knocked something out."

They stood there for a moment, their breaths mingling in the darkness. The proximity, combined with the silence, made the air thick with an unspoken tension. San could feel the warmth of Y/N's breath against his cheek, and he turned slightly, just enough to catch the outline of her face in the faint light from the streetlamp outside.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible. She turned towards him, their noses almost touching. Her fear had drawn her to him, but now something else kept her there. The silence stretched, and San’s hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but from the intensity of the moment. The arguments, the bickering, it all seemed to dissolve in the darkness. She could feel his breath, warm and steady, and it calmed her. Without thinking, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his.

The kiss was tentative, a question rather than an answer. San responded, his other arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. The darkness that had seemed so menacing a moment ago now provided a cloak of intimacy, shielding them from the world outside.

San could feel Y/N’s hesitation melting away as she pressed closer. The tension that had always simmered between them now surged to the surface, manifesting in a soft, shared breath as their lips met again, more firmly this time. San’s hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss.

San pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion, "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Y/N's breath hitched. "Me too," she admitted softly, her hands still gripping his shirt. "I just didn't know how to say it."

San smiled in the darkness, his thumb caressing her cheek. "We don't have to say anything," he whispered. "We just have to feel it."

As the storm raged outside, the small shop became their own world, a bubble of safety and intimacy. San could feel Y/N's body trembling slightly against his, and he held her tighter, reassuring her with his touch. The vulnerability she showed in that moment made him see her in a new light, one that was softer and more profound.

When they finally broke apart, the lights flickered back on, casting a harsh fluorescent glow over their faces. They stood there, breathless and wide-eyed, the reality of what had just happened settling in.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice a mix of surprise and uncertainty. "Well, that was... unexpected."

San chuckled, the sound breaking the tension. "Yeah, you could say that.

They stood there for a moment longer, the familiar bickering a distant memory, replaced by something new and fragile. The shop, once a battleground for their arguments, now felt like a sanctuary for this newfound connection.

"Maybe," Y/N said slowly, "we should argue in the dark more often."

San laughed, the sound filling the shop with warmth. "Maybe we should."

As they turned to finish closing up, San glanced at Y/N, his gaze softer, more tender. She noticed the change, a subtle shift in how he looked at her, and it made her heart skip a beat. The arguments might continue, but beneath the surface, there was an unspoken understanding, a bond forged in the dark and brought to light.

[akunya]

“companionship.”

pairings: android!hex haywire x m!reader

summary: can a robot and human fall in love?

tw: HYPNOSIS, NONCON, manipulation, yandere, etc. robot sex, voice fetish, onahole, voyeurism. size difference, belly bulging, etc.

notes: i love this cliche au of sex robots and things like that, so here’s my take on it.. with hex.

it’s probably terrible and i guess caters a certain niche, but let me know what you guys think.

today was it - the day you’ve been waiting for! finally, after all your hard work throughout the year, you saved enough money to buy your own, state of the art, artificial intelligence assistant.

and, luckily for you, today was also the grand debut of a brand new line of androids: xsoliel.

your hands were as shaky as ever waiting in line at the mall, double checking your savings to assure yourself you weren’t dreaming. nijisanji’s new line of androids were practically everything anyone could ask for: equipped with unique and interesting designs and personalities for each member, xsoliel offered a variety of services: whether it was for your own selfish pleasure or to help with manual labor, there was surely somebody for you.

..or so, that’s how the commercial sounded anyways. you silently thanked humankind for blessing the world with this era of companion-droids. seeing the ad nearly a year ago, you were star struck at the first all-male line nijisanji had debuted: luxiem.

unfortunately, they were sold out and only resold at steep prices— but, a few lucky online bloggers raved about their features, endless posts about how amazing it was to have an assistant of your own. while they could’ve surely been exaggerating, ever since that moment, you put money aside each week, even taking on extra jobs to make a little more cash to achieve your dream.

and it was finally time to reap your benefits.

while you didn’t know much about xsoliel nor intended to coincidentally buy an android of your own on the day of their newest launch, that didn’t stop you from checking them out. reading the blurbs about each member peaked your curiosity even higher. “a delinquent? people really think of anything these days, huh?” chuckling, you let yourself playfully criticize each member. you quickly bit your tongue, thoughts coming to a halt after reading about a certain individual.

“..what kind of name is hex?” muttering to yourself, you couldn’t hide the faint blush on your face as you stared at the model inside of the store. sleek attire, it almost made him look like a professor than a robot. paired with optional glasses (why did he even need those? can’t he see perfectly?), hex’s design made your heart flutter. his official advertisement described him as a nurturing, gentle servant, perfect for new customers to start off with. illustrated to have a deep, nearly hypnotic voice, hex’s programming was assured to have his users satisfied and satiated with their purchase.

swiping your card at the checkout, you really hoped you made the right choice, signing off a couple waivers and documents the employee had given you.

just a week later, you realized you didn’t regret your decision at all.

living with an ai assistant could only be described as luxury. hex truly was made with a “newbie” owner in mind, and the way he spoke to you sometimes made you wonder who was really in charge. his sweet, charming voice, along with how gentle and kind he was towards you, lifted your spirits instantly.

for instance, hex was a wonderful outlet to talk to when things went wrong — and, as if it was magic, nearly every problem you spoke about washed away the next morning! your problems with coworkers quickly diminished, and you even got the raise you’ve been praying for months now. he’d always offer such delicate touches, hugs and shoulder massages when he notices you’re pent up from a long day. you couldn’t fight off the dreamy, floaty headspace you were in when he was around.

not to mention, hex even did some of the chores while you were at work without being told to. even though you felt too guilty to ask him to clean the house, he didn’t seem to mind, making sure you came home to a clean room and nicely folded laundry each day. hell, he even told you he was looking into cooking, something that wasn’t originally included in his list of abilities. hex seemed to go above and beyond for you each time, amazing you each day.

it was a normal friday night, and you were with him as you always were, spending most of your time with the robot.

“y/n, why don’t you ever want to use me for something else..?” the question made your face feel warm, hairs standing on the edge. you two were cleaning up the kitchen after preparing dinner. laughing awkwardly, you tried to shrug off his curiosity, shining a plate with a dish towel. “well, id never want to force you to do something you didn’t like, silly.”

hex’s brow furrowed, a hint of anger resting beneath the surface. who said i didn’t want to?” for an android , the way he spoke was jarringly natural. your eyes widened in surprise, speechless for a moment. hex talked so nonchalantly about sex, but you had to remind yourself he was still a robot after all. as human as his synthetic skin and olive eyes may look, he lacks a beating heart and flesh.

“i-im not sure i want to. im just not interested in that type of stuff right now..” you let your voice trail off, sitting and washing in silence before hex spoke up dangerously close to your ear.

“you don’t have to lie, baby. i can hear you in the middle of the night when you touch yourself.” his deep voice made you shudder, unable to move. didnt you tell him to shut himself off during the nighttime? you were sure you ordered him not to snoop around, especially on nights that you planned to indulge in yourself. gulping, you laughed awkwardly as hex didn’t seem to budge.

“ah, s-sorry for disturbing you, ill try and keep it down next time..” his hand enveloped your own, forcing you to meet his gaze. goodness, his hands were big. warm, soft, inviting — strong, too. hex squeezed your hands, not bothering to stop when you winced from the pain, smiling. “you don’t have to keep it down. you should let me help you.” the way hex spoke was as if he was demanding you, not letting go until you gave him an answer. “it’s what i was.. made to do, anyways.” his voice was filled with solemn, playing with your heartstrings.

the silence was weighing on your thoughts, biting your lip in anticipation. hex knew how to make you uncomfortable, how to give into his desires and requests even when you didn’t want to — on the surface, at least. “alright, i will..! next time ill let you help me, okay?” you huffed, hex letting go of your hands and putting them on your shoulders instead. “good boy. you’re listening so well.” you hated how warm his praise made you feel.

the next night you needed help came sooner than you thought, shamefully letting hex in when he knocked on the door. the android wasted no time making himself comfortable in your space.

“a-ah, hex, slow down! please!” his hand was wrapped around your fleshlight, pumping vigorously as you squirmed in between his legs. your back was pressed against his chest, caged in the ai’s arms as he pleasured you. he caught you trying to use it to get yourself off, and figured he’d give it a try.

except, he failed to mention that his hands also had a vibrating feature. the soft yet firm jelly of the fleshlight practically whirred against your dick, making the experience all too elevating, groaning as hex held you in his arms. this has to be what those bloggers were raving about, right? hex held the toy at the tip of your cock, squeezing a bit to snap you out of your thoughts. you practically sobbed out, eyes tears from how good his touch felt on your skin.

“yknow, when you look so vulnerable like this, it makes me want to ravage you. who knew my master could be so slutty?” you whined at that, the ai chuckling deeply. you could truly stop him by force if you wanted to, considering you were technically his owner, but god did he make it hard. spreading your legs open so he could continue to jerk you off like the pathetic loser you always were. feeling another orgasm coming, your moans started to get louder, nails digging into hex’s synthetic skin.

“shh, goodness y/n. you’re going to wake up the neighbors if you keep moaning like a slut. hmm..” the man hummed to himself, shuffling around while you were distracted. “maybe i should give you something more, right?” before you knew it, his cock was circling your hole, causing you to panic.

“wait, h-hex! that’s too much, im already tired!” you tried to fight back, scrambling in his lap. his hands held up underneath your legs, holding you in place with his strength. of course he could overpower you — he was a robot, for gods sake. even though you were still painfully hard, you couldn’t imagine having sex with an ai of all things.

that is, until you felt something whirr against your ass.

oh.

of course, that part of him vibrates too. why wouldn’t it? as if hex couldn’t be too good at what he does already, it was as if his manufacturer wanted to overkill him with all these extra functions. hex laughed at your stillness, kissing the back of your neck. “i promise it feels good.”

he didnt bother giving you any warning either, nor waiting for an answer, slamming your hips down and shoving himself inside. even if his cock was lubricated, it still hurt like hell, making you cry out in pain. you’ve never felt so full before — just how big was he? you remember a conversation with the clerk at the store that day when you first bought hex. they had asked you about sizes.. but you thought they were just talking about his height, opting for the biggest size they had available. what an idiot. no wonder the clerk blushed a bit at your response.

slowly, hex rolled his hips against yours, his dick stretching you out against your will. “i always imagined us like this, baby. id take care of you, and you’d.. well, take it.” hex smiled, groaning in your ear as his dick nearly stirred up your insides. your brain couldn’t think of anything to say in response, too full to retaliate against the androids firm grip.

“you look stupid, baby. can you feel me? riiight here? look at how well you’re taking me.” hex’s cool fingers pressed against your stomach, nudging the bulge from his cock and making you whine even louder. your poor little cock was like a fountain, leaking nonstop as his pace didn’t falter.

it felt as if you were the one helping him out in this position. the ai was unexpectedly loud in bed, moaning and whispering about how well behaved you were, and how he’ll spoil you like this everyday from now on. every day? could you even handle that? with how he was taking control, surely there was something wrong with his wiring. you started to think about how to return and maybe get someone to take a closer look at his hardware, before a painfully deep thrust snapped you out of your thoughts.

“o-oh!” you were embarrassed by the yelp you let out, your body trembling before finally releasing, soiling the sheets underneath you two. “it seems like you’re doing a lot of thinking today, y/n. what could possibly be on your mind other than me?” hex, amused, chuckled in response, kissing and licking the back of your neck. “good boy. that’s it, let it out. only think of me from now on, okay?” his voice felt so dreamy; so hypnotic.

“y-yes sir,” you managed to mutter our, much to hex’s chagrin. he didn’t need any recovery period since he wasn’t human, so the robot simply got back to milking you dry, pounding into your tight hole like an animal in heat.

you’d never find out that hex’s model was recalled for several malfunctions and viruses, he made sure of that.

how else would he give you everything so easily?

[paused-waterfall]

Little Details of Feather Preening

I love reading fics in which a character with feathers gets help preening them from another character. I think part of it is because it explores the alienness of the winged/feathered character in a grounded, tactile way, while also exploring the dynamic between two characters. It's worldbuilding and character development all rolled into one! But another huge reason why I like it is just cause my parakeet sometimes lets me help with her feathers, and it's the best experience ever omfg.

I figured, for the sake of fic writers who don't have access to the cutest most patient bird in the world (and for me, who feels like rambling) I'd vomit out a ton of little details of what it's like to help a bird preen, and how it might translate to characters with both human and bird features:

(Note, this isn't exactly researched. My sample size is literally one bird and some casual reading about other species (sounds like crow feathers work similarly to parakeets, for instance: https://urbannature.blog/2022/09/23/the-unbearable-itchiness-of-moulting/). Please take this as an account of what preening a bird is like, and not as advice for things to do to a real bird.)

The exact term for preening something other than oneself is "allopreening". It's a social behavior and not all species do it. But if you're writing about a bird-human hybrid, ehhh humans have grooming instincts to add to the mix, so IMO the species of bird shouldn't hold you back!

Allopreening is most needed on areas the bird can't access themself. Wings and tails are mostly accessible-- the long feathers can be gently bent into reach. The back of the head/neck is the most prime location for allopreening. A humanoid trying to preen on their own would probably try to use a mirror to see what they're doing, and seriously tire out their arms reaching back there to do such finicky work.

Birds are pretty good at spinning their heads to see and work on anything below their necks, but an avian-ish character without that range of motion might need more help on the base of their wings, shoulders, and back.

My bird gets pissed when I so much as touch any feathers that are critical to flight (the longest wing and tail feathers). Care for those feathers is super important, and trusting someone else with that task would be a huge deal!

To request a preening, my bird angles her head at me, shakes it, and gently poofs up her feathers. If it's going well, she'll stay poofed up and maybe close her eyes.

A completed preening session always ends with feathers being shaken out.

Molting!

Often, the first sign of an impending molt is a fluffy down feather floating in the air. These feathers will cling to anything they touch.

The start of molting involves a lot of old feathers falling out, and some chill allopreening can be involved in this. Just lightly ruffling their feathers can help dislodge ones that are ready to go.

After getting rid of the old feathers, pin feathers start to grow in. They start out covered in a waxy sheath and with a blood supply running through them. While the blood supply is there, these are also called blood feathers, and damaging them can cause a lot of bleeding.

Pin/blood feathers are very sensitive. A wrong move can cause them to poke into the skin. Add this to the general vulnerability of not being at peak flight ability and the body's exhaustion at having to produce the feathers, and you've got an irritable and skittish bird. This is all a whole lot like a feathery version of a period.

Allopreening pin feathers is a lot more delicate than helping dislodge old ones. There's a careful art involved in telling which ones are ready to have their sheaths removed. Learning this art as a non-feather-haver involved, for me, a lot of sudden nipping from an unsatisfied customer. These days, I can tell I'm working on the wrong feather if my bird tenses up or glares at me.

Removing the sheath from a feather is SO SATISFYING. You take a dull-colored, irritating pin, and gently unwrap it to reveal a soft, beautiful new feather. Any time I see my bird all disheveled by pin feathers, it takes serious willpower to resist pestering her to let me fix them.

Non-molt preening!

Fully grown feathers also need daily upkeep

Birds secrete oils that they spread over their feathers with their beaks. A bird-person or their allopreening partner might choose to work other oils into the feathers, similar to how we use skincare products.

Feathers lost outside of the molting cycle can start regrowing immediately. However, a partially damaged feather will not regrow until it is removed or falls out during a molt.

Clipped wings are essentially damaged feathers-- an intelligent bird-person might be inclined to rip these out so that new, full feathers will be faster to grow... but, that would mean going without the partial feathers, and the gliding/slight lift they allow. That's a pretty big risk!

Hope someone gets some use out of this :) Happy bird-fic'ing!

[minniepetals]

until death

— summary: until death do you part, you are theirs and they are yours

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, slight angst, demon!au

— word count: 4.4k

— warnings: none

— commission for @daisyjoons

“What’s that in your hand?”

“H-Huh?” 

“The flower,” Seokjin beckons at the rose he has in his hand, his tall figure and deadpanned eyes staring down at the man, it almost leaves him wanting to pee his pants right on the spot. “It’s not for the baker, now is it?”

Six more pairs of eyes stare directly down at him and yet he still has the audacity to say; “Yes, it’s..it’s for miss Y/N.”

“Ah.”

Suddenly the air in the little shop shifts and a sharp, cold breeze rushes through the room despite the fact that today should have been nothing but a pleasant breeze. Little ashes of smoke begin to appear from the thin air of the floors of the shop, sauntering around as customers sitting in their designated seats pick their feet up out of fear, their whispers of panic raising, and the man at the center of the demons’ wrath feels sharp ice crawling all over his body.

“It seems you want trouble,” Jungkook says as he takes a step forward, causing the man to step back, and so Jungkook keeps following along until he backs himself against the counter, trembling in sight while the rest of the people hold their breaths, too frightful to make a move in fear of being on the receiving end of the demons’ wrath.

“I-I don’t want trouble,” the poor man stutters.

Taehyung clicks his tongue in irritation while Jimin scoffs.

“Clearly you do,” Namjoon says. “You uttered her name. In the demon world, no one is allowed to utter someone’s name so carelessly. Only if they mean something to you and if the person has allowed you to utter their name.”

“I-I’m sorry sir, I-I didn’t know.”

“And giving roses,” Yoongi plucks the flower right out of his fingertips, “means an eternal love you are willing to spend the rest of your life with.” He burns the petty little thing right before the man’s eyes, all the while keeping his glare pointed right at him, causing the guy to visibly shallow a hard lump.

“Do you understand where you’re wrong?” Hoseok threatens, an arm propped up against Yoongi’s shoulder, hovering.

“I-I-” He looks like he’s about to piss his pants.

“Do you, understand?” So Hoseok reiterates, deeper, darker, graver. “Yes or no?”

“I..y-yes, yes—”

“What are you doing?”

A voice.

A sweet, sweet voice more precious and sweeter than the nectar the butterflies flock themselves onto, than any blood that can satisfy a vampire, than the sun that gives humans light and nutrients. A voice they love more than anything in this world.

Except the woman herself whom it belongs to.

They turn in an instant, ears perking up, head snapped, to find you standing before the door that leads to the backrooms, holding onto a tray of desserts they know you’ve made just for them, and their faces immediately soften.

The room brightens up, the shadows beginning to melt away into thin air in the same way they appeared, and Jimin is just about to rush up to you if it weren’t for your eyes suddenly shifting from them.

Your attention isn’t on them.

“You’re scaring the poor man!” You quickly say as you put your tray down onto the counter, rushing to untie the apron strings from behind, rushing in between them and the gentleman, an arm extending as you force Jungkook to back off. “Not just him but my customers!” You turn to address the guy. “Are you alright sir? I apologize for everything.”

He takes one glance behind you and instantly freezes up once more, quick to shake his head vehemently at the dark eyes staring straight into his soul — unbeknownst to you.

“I-I’m okay! I’m okay!” He blurts out before simply scurrying out the door before you can get another word in.

You stare at the scene, blinking at his sudden rush, before turning around to place your hands upon your hips, all the while the boys are quick to change up their expressions, acting as if they’ve been innocent all along.

“You just lost me a customer. Would you like to explain why you were interrogating the poor dude?” You start, brows furrowed, shoulders tense, chin slightly protruding and they know you’re trying to be all high and mighty but in their eyes, you just look like an upset bunny trying to fight seven wolves. “You really need to keep yourselves in check and stop summoning your shadows to show up out of nowhere, you know that scares people. How are my customers supposed to eat and drink and have a calm peaceful day if you just show up out of nowhere and deliberately make a scene?”

“M-miss Y/N, we’re fine but please—” An older woman tries to appease you, her approach timid as she holds her hands up, trying to calm you down in fear of the men in the room who’re the reason for your anger. “You don’t have to stand up for our sake.”

“We’re fine, you don’t have to do this.”

“I’d really love it if I didn’t have to witness our favorite baker in town—”

“What are you talking about, ma’am, they need a proper scolding,” you say otherwise, clearly unaware of the public’s concern for your life, being as you’re literally standing up against seven tall, masculine men who can literally bend the Earth and destroy this town with a flick of their wrist.

“Miss Y/N, please—”

“It’s alright, just go back to your coffee. I assure you I can handle this.”

“No please—”

You ignore their pleas to turn back around, that business smile fading the second you meet their eyes and they frown, hating the way you sounded kind to your customers and yet don’t bother to send them a smile.

“So then, what do you have to say for yourselves?”

“It’s not even that big of a—”

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms before your chest, looking up at them with a serious expression and they know they can’t not listen to whatever you say.

Only you can ever make them bend a knee.

“Sorry,” Jimin grumbles under his breath but you pretend you didn’t hear it.

“What was that?”

He sighs and steps forward, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you in close, much to the audience’s dismay, and pepper kisses upon your cheeks. “You heard me darling, I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry. We’re sorry,” Jungkook joins in, a hand on your head as he presses a kiss to your temple.

You feel your heart lighting up, a smile waiting to creep up but you know not to give in just yet. “And to my customers?”

Namjoon crosses a hand over to his heart, giving the people a light bow. “We apologize for the inconvenience, dear customers of Y/N’s,” he says, and while they simply look back with mouths agape and widened pupils, frozen in their spots, he turns his head back your way, a cheeky little grin spread across his face as if asking for a compliment for doing the thing that you asked him to do.

You bite back a grin, seeing how obedient they are when it comes to you, but you know that if you let them see even the smallest bit of that, they'll disregard the people around them and simply coddle you to their heart’s content.

So you take Jimin’s hand and lead him into the backrooms, knowing the rest are quick to follow along, all the while leaving your customers blinking and rubbing their eyes, wondering if what they had just seen was right or if it had been simply a figment of their imaginations.

After all, everyone knows demons would never yield to a human that easily, much less care for them in the way they just treated you.

“Someone looks stressed.”

Once you’re finally left alone with your demons without any eyes kept on you, you let your guard down, smiling ruefully as you take a good look at the seven of them. Demons don’t live on sleep in the way humans need it, they get their energy elsewhere, but sometimes there are days you feel as if perhaps taking a nap will help them.

They look so tired.

“But that still doesn’t mean you can come around here and demand things out of my customers.”

Yoongi grunts, rolling his eyes at your words like a child hating to be scolded. “I get it, I get it,” he repeats exasperatedly when he walks over to place his head against your chest, letting you run your fingers through your hair to coddle him.

“But he was trying to give you roses,” Taehyung says as he clicks his tongue with irritation, that glare he has on is always enough to kill someone if he could, and for a good while you were scared of it yourself, but luckily you’ve gotten used to it. Taehyung would never hurt you after all.

And you know exactly what roses mean in the demon language. It was what they gave you when they confessed their undying love to you after all, a day you will never forget, a day they swept you off your feet and the very day you became forever theirs. You can never forget what those roses mean to them because to demons who’re almost incapable of feeling, much less love another, if a rose is given by them unto another, it is something one must never doubt.

“You do understand that roses aren’t as significant as they are to us humans, don’t you?” You remind them, a light chuckle leaving your lips when Taehyung drops his head onto your shoulder, asking for the same attention you’re giving to Yoongi. “I mean they mean a lot to me because they mean a lot to you but to humans in general, roses are just another sign of love.”

“Exactly, love. That’s a universal language and he was trying to steal you away from us.” You feel Hoseok’s arms slide around your waist from behind, lips pressing onto the nape of your neck.

“He didn’t know,” you try to excuse the action of the poor man who you didn’t even know was trying to confess to you just a few minutes prior.

But they’re having none of that.

“Who goes around professing their love to someone they don’t even know that well? Did he really believe a pretty girl like you would remain loveless by men all around her?”

You laugh awkwardly at Seokjin’s words. “What’re you trying to say by that?”

“He should know his place,” he says as he takes your chin from under his fingertips, bringing you forth to his face, “and that you, who is beloved by many, wouldn’t have already stolen the hearts of others around her. You attract after all, and just like those pretty little sweets you make every day before the town can even wake up, a simple glance at you can cause quite the addiction.”

“I..” You avert your eyes, cheeks heating because you know exactly what he’s trying to imply. “I don’t think I..”

“You don’t?” The eldest raises a brow as if daring you to further challenge his belief.

“W-well…” You stumble on your words before clearing your throat. “Sometimes too many sweets can be bad for you.”

“Well, luckily I have a sweet tooth.” A small little smirk curl along the corner of his lip, a low chuckle leaving him just as he leans in to capture your lips, leaving your heart to skip a thousand beats faster than its initial pounding.

He doesn’t kiss you for too long but even then, once he leaves you, you’re a blushing mess.

“Heart’s pounding rather fast,” Yoongi states, and you’re stumbling over your words once again.

“I..I-I wasn’t…”

“How long has it been? You’re still swooning over such a small thing?” Jungkook teases.

“It’s alright, I quite like it actually,” Seokjin says, his hand reaching up to tuck it behind your ear. “It’s quite refreshing seeing what we do still makes her react like this. You love us that much, huh darling?”

“If you’re here just to tease me, please just return to whatever it was you were doing before coming here.”

“Hey, don’t act like you don’t like it,” Namjoon pulls you back in when you try to run away to hide your embarrassment. They hold you in close, grips so steady you know there’s really no chance you’ll ever be able to escape.

Not that you want to.

And seeing those looks on their faces, you know they know that fact more than anyone else.

After all, these days can sometimes be rare; the days when they show up before you unexpectedly, most times without ever telling you beforehand. These days are the days you cherish the most, when you can be in their arms just like this, without ever feeling as if they would ever let you go.

Not until it’s time for them to leave. Not until they have to leave.

And it’s in those moments when they do have to leave do you feel the most lonely. When you have to stay behind, taking a moment to gather yourself, remember their holds and kisses, before returning to your baking with a customer smile on your face so no one knows just how lonely you are when your demons leave, knowing you can do nothing but wait until their next visit.

There are times when waiting takes days, weeks, and sometimes even a whole month and you’re always left wondering just where they are and where they’ve gone and what they’re doing.

But you know you’d never tell them just how lonely you really are when they’re gone.

After all, the times they visit are for the times of loving and holding one another. It isn’t a time to dwell on things that don’t matter, it isn’t a time to cry and wish and to hope. It’s a time to cherish what’s before you before they have to leave.

Only when they’re gone can you actually dwell on your loneliness.

“If something ever goes wrong or if you simply need us, you can call us anytime.”

You stare at the little bell shaped into a red rose one lonely night while standing under the stars in the middle of your garden.

It’s the garden of red roses they created for you, a garden that can never wilt no matter the seasons, time, or period. It dies only when the owner who received these flowers dies.

It will wilt only once you’ve wilted.

“Just how long will you continue to live, little ones?” You hold a hand out to feel the soft petals of the roses upon your fingertips, smiling at how pretty they are. Not even one petal is torn or hurt. They all look alive and well, alive and flourishing.

Jungkook says they reflect their owners’ age as you know that one day in the far future, these flowers will probably begin to look dainty and frail as well, and yet you don’t wish to ever see these flowers growing old with you.

Growing old means nearing death.

Growing old means wilting.

And then what will happen to the ones you’ll be leaving behind? The lifespan of a human does not last forever after all, and the more you think about it, the more you come to understand that they’ve got all the time in the world, hence they don’t ever look sad or griefed whenever they come to visit days or weeks or months later.

It is because to demons, the passing of time is simply but a second walking by.

Yet to you, every ticking second means a second closer to wilting away.

You let out a sigh, turning from the flowers to take a step forward towards your house when a harsh wind passes by, causing your shawl to fly off, and in an attempt to grab for it, you’ve forgotten about the bell you had in your hand, causing the little flower shape to fall from your hand and jingle as it hits the ground.

You gasp as you freeze in place because in just mere seconds, you know you aren’t alone anymore.

Seven presence right behind you.

Who would have thought it’d work this fast?

You quickly pick your bell up, eyes scanning forward at the shawl that flew off onto a rose bush, and rush forward to take it back because of how cold the night air has gotten.

“Well someone most certainly called us here on purpose, didn’t she?”

You turn back at Yoongi’s sarcastic comment once you’ve gotten your shawl to wrap it back onto yourself.

“Sorry! It was the wind,” you quickly say as you rush back to their side. “The bell was in my hand and when my shawl flew away, I forgot about it so when I went to reach for my shawl, the bell fell out and now here you are, summoned by the jingle.”

“So you’re not in immortal danger?”

At Seokjin’s question, you take a look around, wanting to laugh a bit at the situation. “Uh nope! Looks like I’m perfectly fine.”

“So you’ll only call us if you’re in immortal danger? How disappointing.” Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his lips pouting.

“What? You want me to call you if I miss you or something?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” You place the bell securely into your pocket then tighten the shawl around your body. “Anyways, it’s pretty cold out here. You should get back to what you were doing. As you can see, I’m not hurt nor am I in any danger. In the meantime, I think it’s time for me to head to bed.”

You begin to walk off to your door again when Namjoon stops you.

“What were you doing out here?” He asks and you stop in your tracks, shrugging.

“Just thinking.”

“Thinking?”

“About immortality and stuff.”

“Immortality?�� Jimin steps up to drape an arm around your shoulder in order to turn you back around to where they’re standing, at the same time helping you to keep warm against the night breeze. “What’s got you thinking about immortality, darling? Are you finally thinking about how to become one?”

“You know I like my human life.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “Something about growing old is part of what makes human life so beautiful or whatever.”

“I don’t understand why death is beautiful to you,” Taehyung says.

“Well on the other hand, don’t you think immortality is somewhat of a curse?” You ask and they look upon themselves as if they’ve never given that idea a chance before.

“Why would it be a curse?”

“Well…” Your words trail off slowly and yet they wait for your explanation, eyes steady on you, ears open to whatever you have to say, and you play along with your fingers, nails digging into the skin a bit. “When I die…you’ll still have thousands of years left to live.” You avoid their eyes, staring down at the ground. “...Won’t you miss me?”

They grow silent.

Everything grows silent and you hear nothing but the little breeze that passes by ever so often, as well as the cicadas out in the night, singing their sweet songs, a melody mirroring the birds in the early morning.

“So you’re saying,” Hoseok begins, “that you’ll die before us.”

“It’s inevitable,” you say, looking up again. “Forty years may not mean a lot to you but forty years into the future means me getting old and gray and my health deteriorating. Humans are living and dying at the same time. I get closer to death with each passing day.”

“Don’t say that.”

“You know it’s true.” You watch as Jungkook turns to look at the flowers in the garden, his hand reaching out to touch one of them. “I’d never want to die and let you live through years of heartache. I’d never want to leave you behind in this world and no matter how happy we will be, death is something that is inevitable to come for me, you know that. Though I wouldn’t ever want you to follow along either. I don’t want to die together.”

“So you love your human life but you don’t want to die and leave us behind, but you also don’t want us to choose our own death in following you right behind, and you don’t wish to become an immortal.” Namjoon takes a step forward into your proximity, their expressions more grave than any other times you’ve ever seen them — except in those moments when you’re in immortal danger right before them. It frightens you a bit wondering what’s going on inside their heads, but what frightens you most is the inevitable future threatening to tear you apart.

“What is it that you want, Y/N?” Namjoon asks and you take a moment to think.

What is it that you want?

Why’re you thinking about immortality and death? Why was the wind listening to you when you were left to yourself in this garden? Why did it hear your silent plea in wishing to see them and therefore taking your fate into their hands and causing you to accidentally call for your demons?

Why does any of this even matter?

“I don’t know…” You look down at your feet, fingers unable to keep still, the vision before you blurring. “I-I don’t know,” you admit truthfully and when you look up again, their eyes widen at the sight of tears brimming along your waterline, waiting to fall down any second now. “I don’t want to live forever but I don’t…I don’t want to ever leave you behind and…and…I don’t know what I want. All I know is that…is that even though I enjoy this human life, I hate how different we are. I hate how different we think because to you, a day passing by means nothing. A week, a month, maybe even a year. A year without me is nothing to you. You can let time go by and it wouldn’t mean a thing because you get to live forever but to me…to me….I..”

You swallow the lump that wishes to cut your voice off, forcing the words out. “I hate waiting. I hate not knowing when it is you’ll be visiting again. I hate each day that passes, I hate it when you leave me, I hate being lonely and empty, I hate it when I have to wait. I hate it. I hate all of it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I don’t know,” you cry, ignoring the tears that slip by when they close in on you. A few hiccups threaten to leave your voice behind but you continue talking through it all. “It’s just…I-I didn’t bring it up because I know you get busy and even if you aren’t so busy, I…I thought that, well, if the passing of time doesn’t affect you, why should it affect me?”

“You should have spoken up, my love.”

“You know if you asked for the world, we’d give it to you in a heartbeat, right? Why would you think we wouldn’t stop anything and everything if you just asked to be with us?”

“I don’t know,” you cry again, letting the last syllable drag out as more tears fall from your eyes and they’re quick to panic, realizing their reassuring words probably sounded more like them scolding you.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. You don’t have to cry anymore.”

“We know. We know now so it’ll be alright.”

“I’ll tell you what, become one of us.”

Your cry falls silent as only sniffles and small hiccups leave your lips when you hear those words. You blink up at Taehyung, slightly confused. “..What?”

“You heard him, become one of us.”

“I told you I don’t want to live forever.”

“You don’t have to live forever, darling.”

“I..I don’t?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “We can live together for as long as we want and when you get tired of life, when you get tired of immortality, just say the word and we’ll make it happen in a heartbeat.”

“...Really?”

“Of course.” Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead just as you feel Taehyung’s hands wiping your tears away and Seokjin handing you a tissue he created from thin air. “Hoseok said, didn’t he? You could ask us for the world and we’d give it to you without question.”

“We’d burn the world if it means making you happy.”

“But what if I just want you and not the whole world?”

Soft smiles appear upon their faces, softening their features, whispering sincere affirmations of love.

“Oh darling, you already have us.”

“And you’ll have us even after death takes us all away.”

“But…I thought…” with the last remaining tears wiped away, you take a small little glance towards the rose bushes, eyes scattering off with confusion, “doesn’t immortality mean…forever? How would I..-How would we just…leave this world?”

“There is always an answer to everything,” you feel warmth seeping through the palm of Yoongi’s hand when he caresses your face, “and just like the stars that burn bright in the night, lasting for eons on end, they too have their beginning and ending and one day they will burn away as well.”

“Then, technically..you aren’t cursed with immortality?”

“Well technically, yes, but in theory, going against the ways of life means going against the laws of the world, which also means throwing things off balance, so it also means receiving death sentences for throwing off said balance.”

You take a moment to blink, trying to comprehend what Jungkook just said, before simply letting out an “Oh.”

They chuckle at your silence and you feel Jimin ruffle your hair. “Though of course we’d never let anyone touch you, not even the world. There are other ways to leave an immortal life but it’ll happen when we get there so don’t worry your little head off about how everything works.”

“You just have to trust us,” Seokjin agrees.

“You’ll trust us, won’t you?” Hoseok asks.

You take his hands in yours, eyes determined without a glint of hesitation. “I trust you with my life and until death do us part, it is yours to keep.”

Taehyung chuckles at the sentiment before repeating the vow you’ve just spoken. “Until death do us part.”

[yan-lorkai]

Can I request a Mother!Reader x Ciel? Like the reader became a shinigami before the fire consumes her (she has knowledge about demons, angels and grim reapers) so that she can still see and protect her son alongside Sebastian.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ The occult fascinated you when you were younger and although this type of knowledge was highly frowned upon by the society you lived in, you were always the type of person who did what you wanted. You spent hours studying and reading everything you could about demons, their classifications and rankings, their names and positions, you also learned about Shinigami and angels. At that time all of this was just to satisfy your curiosity about the beings on the other side that all humans feared so much.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ During your life you have met many of these beings, some by coincidence, others through rituals or things like that. The occult followed you into adulthood, but you let it all go when you married Vincent. You didn't want supernatural beings to continue to follow and seek you when you intended to build a family with your husband, so no longer did you spend afternoons studying and talking with other occultists, living peacefully for several years until tragedy struck you and your little family.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ The passage of time for you became blurred as your soul was collected by the shinigami and, instead of being laid to rest as is done with all others, someone turned you into a shinigami. You couldn't say who specifically since you had no friends among them nor did you know why anyone would risk their reputation for you but you were grateful for being alive again.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ By all means, your "rebirth" is abnormal and strange and if the other shinigami realize what an anomaly you are then they will hunt you down and eliminate you, so for a while you are left wandering in isolated places, brooding in guilt and grief. You've just lost your entire family and your humanity, that's a lot of information to process at once, however, your world turns upside down again when you discover that your eldest son is alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ As any good mother would you return home, a bundle of nerves and anxiety as your fist slams against the door and you find yourself face to face with a supernatural being. You know Sebastian as soon as you see him, your heart pounding inside your chest as you swallow hard. It seems that like you, Ciel ventured into the occult more than he should have. You return home, but everything is so different, so sad and cold, the place where the family photo once stood is now empty - a painful reminder of everything that had happened.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel's reactions when he sees you are diverse, every quiver of his lips, every erratic breath and the barely contained tears in his eyes, you can see everything. And even if he doesn't immediately hug you in front of his demon pet so as not to show weakness, you hold him in your arms. At least you still have each other. Each other until the contract is finalized, you remember with regret, knowing that there is nothing stopping Sebastian from getting what is owed to him in the end.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ However, you again find yourself with your books. Reading each one almost obsessively to learn how to break a contract or how to kill a demon - if Sebastian knows what you're doing, he hasn't done anything to stop you or told your son yet.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Whether you find a way to break the contract or not, you and Sebastian fiercely protect Ciel from any and all threats that may come his way. It's tiring having to predict assassination attempts, poisoning or kidnapping, but with the strength and knowledge you now have, everything is easier. Holding your death scythe feels so right in your hands, as if it were custom-made, capable of cutting through almost anything.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ There is still distrust in you about everyone around you, about any imminent danger and on nights when you find yourself tossing from one side to the other in bed, you stand at the door of Ciel's room, listening his breathing heavily and snoring. Hearing him being alive. On these nights it is common for Sebastian to find you and stay by your side, talking, exchanging experiences, although he doesn't really like reapers he seems to tolerate you if only because you are the mother of his contractor.

[gatitties]

NO BECAUSE !!!!!!!! i think we need more interactions of Assassin!Reader x Bonten 😩😩 (thank u for da reader who requested it bcs my 🫀 is beating happiness) or maybe you could make this a series??? 👀👀 bUT ANYWAYS can I request a Assassin!Reader x Bonten where Bonten was trying to find some info abt Reader but ofc Reader knows abt it so when there's a general meeting for the Bonten Executives, she appeared into the meeting like she was just watching them the whole time 🤣 and Reader is mad mad abt it. she doesn't want them to snoop around her life

(if u dont want to do this, its ok!!! no pressure. lovelots 🫰🏻)

─Yandere!Bonten x assassin!reader

─Summary: tired of so much persecution you decide to set the record straight, but you are only making a mistake

─Warnings: mención of blood, unwarranted obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

first of all, I still don't know how to write action or fight scenes, I'm sorry, second, many people will be grateful to you for the request, and third, how so many people liked it?! 😭🤚anyway, here you go (about making a miniseries Idk, but if I have any idea for this I will definitely write it 😌) @ajmiila02, @kenmasbimbo, @uniqueeggtoast, @belle643, @simpingfor-wakasa, @ihavestrawberryjam, @binibining-mariaclara, @sereinitysmind (hope that I didn't left anyone untagged)

Part one / Part Three

"You should stop turning down those job offers, they offer you a good amount and your other clients seem not to ask for your help much lately."

You sighed looking at the request manager, he took your silence to mean that you didn't really care, you never have anything stable in this world, there were always better and worse times so it wouldn't really worry you.

"Just take care to let me know if there are other people than 'Mr. B', their requests are ridiculous."

The man raised both hands, nodding to your petition, after that you left the alley where you met the manager, returning to the busy streets of Tokyo in the middle of rush hour, where everyone was walking down the street without worries, you mixed among those people until you reached a suburb of small houses. You opened the rickety door with a nasty creak, looking at the garbage that flooded the floor, you couldn't ask for more for the minimum amount of this place and location, anyway it was time to move to another apartment.

Not only because you needed to change 'home' from time to time, but because lately you had felt less safe with your environment, it all started when you accepted the first request from 'Mr. B', they only asked you to kill a man, you did your job but also you discovered the identity of that 'B' who turned out to be not just one person but rather several.

You don't usually remember faces or names that aren't necessary for your missions, so you had to rack your brains to remember those two faces you saw, then you linked them to that group you saved in that brothel a month ago. Luckily only you could see how the guy with the pink mullet and the guy with the scar who tried to stop you that time were there, they seemed to be watching your movements with a satisfied smile when they saw little drops of blood fall from your face.

You interpreted that 'Mr. B' was all that group that you barely remembered the appearance of, you thought that on that occasion they were only there to check that you did your job well, but you noticed how they started to track you after that assignment, although of course, they could not find you and their only way to see you would be for those orders, which you did not accept.

The next two months your usual customers disappeared without a trace, it's not like you received daily orders but it was strange that all your requests were now only from 'B', it irritated you because it meant a heavy blow to your name in the underground, by refusing to take orders to Bonten, no one else did it as if they felt threatened.

But the worst of all was that every step you took you felt their eyes on you, every corner you turned you saw their shadow on you, it bothered you enough to think about killing them but you seriously thought about it and it would get you nowhere, you didn't used to kill to reputable or well-known people because that would cause a more intensive search for you and those guys seemed to be at least successful because they were handling a ridiculous amount of money.

You didn't even know their names and they always seemed to be on your trail, you never let them get too close to you, but lately they seemed closer and closer to finding you directly, you got fed up, you weren't leading a quiet and peaceful life, but inside from the garbage of your work you could always have a rest from all those deaths, you could always have a little space to pretend that your life was not rubble and everything was normal.

"Looks like I'm going to have to do some special work or I'll go completely hysterical."

As you were getting ready to leave that same night, all of the Bonten executives gathered at their meeting point earlier today, all sitting at a round table waiting for Mikey to start the meeting, though he waved for Takeomi to start since he was already busy eating his taiyaki.

"As you know we have been looking for that assassin from that day, we have always followed clues but we never managed to find the person, but today, we will complete the capture plan."

They all nodded in sync, some more eager than others, after all the stupid game of cat and mouse made them feel more irrationally attracted to you, Mochizuki always enjoyed watching you mix so well with people but quickly lost sight of you that he needed more from you, Sanzu and Rin enjoy seeing you staining you with the blood of your targets, Kakucho seems to appreciate your fighting style, Takeomi sees you as a difficult puzzle to solve and Ran and Kokonoi were perhaps the least attached to that exalted image of you, but they were curious about you.

"Is everyone clear about their part of the plan? We can't let anything go wrong, she never leaves a trace and knows how to erase her tracks, so we'll have to resort to more violent methods than just watching how she goes on our faces."

The meeting continued for a few minutes, explaining each phase and step while unknown to them you were in the room ventilation listening to everything, your blood boiled listening to how they talked about how they would make you bow down to them, it was your breaking point.

"Once we capture her, we can do what we want with her?"

"Only what I allow."

Mikey got up answering Sanzu who rolled his eyes for the answer, the leader patted his shirt to remove all the rest of the crumbs, with that everyone knew that the meeting had ended although to their surprise three bullets hit the table right in front of the site from Mikey, immediately after you kicked the grate and jumped on top of the table pointing your two pistols at everyone.

"I am going to make one thing clear, do not interfere in my life, I don't know what you want from me, but I'm not looking for anything from you."

You kicked Rin's arm as he tried to grab your leg, immediately firing Sanzu's pistol to disarm him, then ducking to avoid Ran's staff.

"What about the expenses for destroying that brothel?"

"You speak as if-" you jumped from the table hitting Kakucho's hands with the butt of your pistol, moving as far away from them "as if you lacked money, I know you are 'Mr. B', there is no point in charging me for that."

"We don't need reasons to want you as our slave! If we want something we have it and you would be a great possession to us."

"Oh just go to hell, Chunzu, I don't care about you or your supposed leader Mokey, I'm asking for peace of mind! and I want you to take this as a warning."

You took a little momentum, doing a slight somersault on the table, you shot at the large window breaking the glass into small pieces, you ran towards the broken window to jump through it, the arms of Mochizuki and Rin trying to reach your body unsuccessfully, you spun in the air and fired one last time before your body was thrown from the top floor of the building, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the buildings.

The bullet made Mikey's dyed hair move slightly, a couple of cut strands slowly descending to the ground, everyone fell silent watching their leader look at the window you had thrown out of, Kokonoi snapping everyone out of their daze.

"Mikey…?"

"If she want to play that game we'll play, before it was a whim, but now it's a necessity, I want her here."

He turned now looking at the wall where the lead bullet had been nailed, brushing the hole and scratching slightly to remove the small object, he smiled observing the shape and caliber.

"Let's start… analyzing this."

He took one last look at his most trusted executives before walking off fiddling with the 10mm bullet, they all looked at each other with a new flame burning in their eyes, you're only making things worse, you should have run but it was too late to get rid of them.

[lost-in-fandoms]

I know maybe you're not in the mood right now but any thoughts about Tarzan!Max? I'd accept thoughts about any of your pics because everything is amazing tbh but there's something about Tarzan!Max discovering a new world through Daniel and discovering how amazing is to fall in love.

Does Daniel take him to his farm? I think Max in Daniel's farm would be hilarious, amazed by everything and finding a family in Daniel's family too.

babe i am always down to talk about my boy in all and any situations! sorry this took a while, i took a little nap and then couldn't think about anything but!!!

(the first thing I thought was like..how do you get a whole person through customs. obviously max doesn't have a passport or any form of id so would they have to go through a sort of immigration procedure? but he's not emigrating from anywhere???? i guess i'll leave that problem to them sdfbdjhbf)

I love the idea of Daniel taking Max to his farm.

I'm imagining like. The jungle is Max's home right? But I imagine he's a little less in contact with his monkey pack. He likes to wander around and he has his own little hidey holes and his own places to sleep. So when he imprints on Daniel, he sees Daniel's "pack" as his new family. (and I am now thinking about Max trying to "groom" Daniel or Josh or whoever, gently raking his fingers through their hair and fiddling with their clothes and cleaning dirt smudges away after licking his thumb).

So when Daniel asks if Max wants to go with them, both because he can't imagine leaving another human being in the jungle and because he can't imagine leaving Max behind, Max goes. And in whatever way they manage to do it, Daniel brings him to his farm.

He understands that Max will probably never be ready to live in a city or close to a lot of people, he needs to be close to nature, and even if the nature in Daniel's farm is different from the jungle, it's still better than most options.

I imagine at first Max will struggle to adapt. He is used to have a lot of space to roam, to have trees to swing from, a whole different climate, a whole different diet. and now Daniel asks he wears at least underwear and a tshirt most of the time, he has to eat different foods, it rains so much less? where is the rain? how is he supposed to be clean if there is no river?

Daniel has to really help him through a lot. it helps that Max is learning to communicate more and more every day, but sometimes they bump into a new roadblock that they weren't expecting, and Daniel is reminded about how different Max's life has been so far. (would love to explore an overstimulated-by-electronic-noises max when i have more energy maybe. or a deeply-sad-because-where-is-my-jungle max)

But I think Max also really enjoys learning new things. He is delighted by some of the simplest things, which makes Daniel look at life in a different way too. How did he never realise how amazing forks and knives are? why does he think so little about how incredible it is to be able to make ice in his own freezer? the wonders of a ceiling fan???

I can picture Max spending long minutes just staring at things. Clocks, the washing machine, the fan, the turned off television, the kitchen sink tap. turning lights on and off. flushing the toilet over and over. And I can also picture him taking apart stuff and then (try to) put it back together, like the toaster (was never the same), the blender (was left with several pieces on the counter), the tv remote (tried to eat the buttons).

Max being terrified of Daniel's phone and then, when he gets used to it, absolutely fascinated by it. Asking so many questions about everything that Daniel doesn't know the answer to and forcing him to look them up because Max will simply not stop asking until he has a satisfying answer.

On the other hand, Max taking care of the vegetable garden and the animals. Being so incredible at it that it becomes mainly his job. They're different from the animals he's used to, but he is amazed by the chickens and loves them so much. Sometimes he likes to just sit with them and pet them softly. He becomes best friends with the donkey and the alpacas. maybe Daniel gets him bunnies and at first he's worried Max will kill them when he's hungry, but Max is so so gentle with them and loves them all so much.

And in all this, Max loves Daniel. He does his best to make Daniel food, gives him little "gifts" (eggs from the chickens, tomatoes from the garden, a clean sweater straight from the drier, a glass of water with clinking ice), curls up around him at night because he always refuses to sleep in his own bed. He's very protective of Daniel and gets upset when Daniel needs to leave the farm for errands or other things.

And Daniel shifts from I am very fond of this weird jungle boy to I would very much love to sleep in your arms for the rest of my life with a side of oh my god when is this beefy jungle guy gonna rail me. He sees how gentle and sweet and smart Max is, how quickly he learns about things and adapt to this new life, how interested he is about everything, how he takes care of Daniel, the farm, the animals, and can't help but fall in love with it all.

And the first time Daniel kisses Max at the farm, they're on the couch, Max watching something on the tv, almost without blinking, and Daniel watching Max. He calls his name and when Max turns (because Daniel will always be more important than anything else, even if the guy in the tv is cooking beef and Max is kind of hungry) Daniel kisses him. Max stays still for a bit and then when Daniel pulls back Max licks his cheek in response. It's not perfect, but Daniel can teach him. and Max always learns.

[sketches4mysw33theart]

Secret Fantasy

Title:  Secret Fantasy  Synopsis: Your brother, Willy Wonka, sends you on a mission to discover as much as you can about Mr Felix Fickelgruber and his shop. However, when you meet the man himself, you discover much more than you bargained for.   Word Count: 1.8k  Warnings: None 

Yes, I am still alive, but is the fandom? 🫠 

Finally made a part two!

“Okay, Y/N,” your brother’s words echoed in your psyche. “Once you’re in Fickelgruber’s shop, play like a wealthy customer, like you’re there to buy his entire shop, yes? He’ll notice you soon enough, then you can ask him about his chocolates, his upcoming plans, all of it. Anything you see, anything he says, try and remember. Chocolates, flavours, shapes, packaging, all of it! It’s risky, I know, but you can do it, I know you can. Okay?” 

But, bathed in the soft, green light of the infamous chocolate shop, surrounded by plush velvets and lush silks, it was easy to lose your grip on sanity. You stood, stunned, in the centre of this corner of paradise like a boat lost out at sea, bobbing listlessly against waves it has no strength to fight.  

Overwhelmed by endless coloured boxes and paper-wrapped concoctions, you weren’t sure where to look. So, your attention bounced over each shelf and colour and texture as quickly as pinballs spinning in the dazed universe of their machine. You were used to chocolate, naturally, and you had confidence that nothing could compare to the tiny miracles that your brother could produce. However, seeing a real shop, so many types of confectionaries deliberately put together and dressed up to entice passers-by to dip into their pockets – it was an entirely new realm for you.  

Of course, it did not take too long for you to get noticed. Dressed up in the new finery your brother had dipped into his quickly growing stash of chocolate-selling money to kindly purchase for you, which itched your wrists at the cuffs and made a satisfying swish noise whenever you turned, it was admittedly hard not to notice you. You looked as though you had strolled into new money and built a throne of sovereigns from the petty cash. 

“May I help you?” You were reading, with your mouth open in awe, the flavours in Fickelgruber's Fancies (one of his most expensive boxes of chocolates) when the refined voice sang over your shoulder, and you turned to it as though scolded.  

You were caught in the headlights of a face you had only heard mythological tales about, the face of one of your brother’s arch nemeses. The face of, you shamefully thought as soon you laid eyes on him, an extremely handsome man. Frozen under his liquefying stare, you floundered, your boat taking on water as you stuttered, trying to find your footing in this strange, golden world.  

Somehow, you thought focusing on the handsome man responsible for your drowning (and much more besides) would carry you safely back to steady ground. He was wiry, tall, and immaculately presented, from the perfectly waxed shape of his hair to the shined-clean sparkle of his shoe tips. His accent was as plummy as the colour of his matching tie and handkerchief, but he had a nice, if a little strained, smile on his face. Rather more than nice, you thought.  

As you stared at him, watching the corners of his lips rise in a coy, roguish smile, sense boomeranged back into your brain in the guise of your brother. Play like a wealthy customer, like you’re there to buy his entire shop. 

“Er, yes, actually, I think you can, Mr Fickelgruber.” Finally, your voice came back to you, and with it the confidence and bald-faced mania your brother had instilled in you long ago; the tools needed to get your job done. What you didn’t notice, however, was your instant use of his name and the gratified expression that illuminated his face as soon as you addressed him by it.  

“These fancies,” you pointed somewhat redundantly to the lush green box, hoping it would disguise the quiver in your voice as you recovered, “there are no cherry flavours. That simply won’t do.” 

To your surprise, he smiled again. “Oh, you’re absolutely right. It is a travesty, isn’t it? I was saying the same thing to my wretched assistant only yesterday. May I suggest you try these instead?”    

He reached easily over your head, pulling from a higher shelf a sleek black box emblazoned with an egotistical gold F and stylishly held together with a single black ribbon stretched across the right-hand side. You were rather too distracted to focus on what he reached for, however, as you were overwhelmed with a strong wave of wild ferns (freedom, open countryside stretching out ahead under the harsh shards of moonlight), a rich, earthy scent emanating from his suit and the body it covered the same way his shop exuded opulence and his wry smile radiated superiority.  

Then, he was holding the box almost to your nose, as though he suspected you of neglecting your glasses; this only confirmed that you were not as confident as your attitude would project. Slow responsiveness, trembling hands, quivering mouth. His impression of you must have been that of a helpless infant. 

“These,” he began speaking when you gently lifted the box from his hand to inspect the contents listed on the side, “are my pride and joy. Fickelgruber’s Fudges.” His chest puffed as he shared with you the name of the delights currently cupped in your hands, but finally, your attention was diverted from your new companion. He was still talking, filling up the electric space between you with fleeting words about the concoction and how, although it wasn’t strictly chocolate, it was ‘the best taste sensation you could achieve on God’s green Earth’, but you could barely hear him as you scanned the ingredients and thought of your brother’s face.  

Your brother, you knew, was a dab hand at all kinds of confectionary, but he was never satisfied with his fudge recipe. Although you were supportive, neither, secretly, were you. There was always something missing. Not enough sugar, too much, the flavours don’t gel well, unappetising to look at - always something. It took one glance at the near-empty shelf above you to know that this was not the case with the man in front of you.  

His flavours were certainly unique, although as you read them, they seemed so simple. No yeti sweat, for example. There was cherry, as expected, but also salted caramel, mint, raspberry, maple, and a mysteriously named Fickelgruber’s Fantasy, an unnamed flavour with a top-secret recipe.  

Of course, you asked immediately, “What’s the flavour?” but he just laughed loudly, throwing his head back so you could see the bobbing of his Adam’s apple along his taut neck. Despite the face of your brother still hovering at the forefront of your mind, at the sound of Mr Fickelgruber’s unbridled laugh, your lips twitched into a giggling smile. 

“Well, if I told you that,” he said once he had recovered, a grin spread across his handsome face and hands clasped behind his back as he leaned closer to you, “I’d have to kill you.”  

He brought his hands between you to grasp the box you were still holding, slipping off the ribbon with ease and lifting off the lid. “I believe I can spare a few of these to tantalise your tastebuds, however. Here,” he held up a perfect cube of mouth-watering fudge, covered with a delicate strip of chocolate and dotted with what looked like either marshmallow or biscuit. “Try my fantasies for yourself.”  

He quirked up an eyebrow as he held the fudge out to you between his forefinger and thumb, only an extension of his one-sided smirk. You looked up from the piece of confectionary to his face for a mere second before opening your mouth and allowing him to place it onto your awaiting tongue.  

It was like a slice of heaven, melting in your mouth as soft and supple as the rich cocoa butter your brother had traded a silk scarf for in India and allowed you to dip your finger in as he made his chocolate after days of denying you the privilege. Fickelgruber’s Fudge had that same kind of forbidden luxury in its flavour, rich and decadent. That addition of biscuit – it was definitely biscuit, you recognised as soon as it touched your taste buds – only emphasized the beauty of the bite, giving the chewy texture a gritty crunch.   

If Fickelgruber was smiling with pride before, he was beaming with it now, watching your eyes light up as the taste of his well-kept recipe coated your throat. “Good, no? And there’s your beloved cherry, of course.” 

As soon as you’d swallowed the secret Fantasy, he was holding up a square of fudge dotted with sweet cherries. Without question, you opened your mouth once more, accidentally catching the very tips of his fingers between your lips as your mouth closed eagerly around the sweet. You were too overwhelmed to apologise as he withdrew them without a care, too overwhelmed even to speak. The cherry was, dare you say it, even more delicious than his prided secret recipe, as sweet and real as cherry pie.  

You swallowed the sweet blissfully and looked down at the open box still in your hand as though it were a treasure chest. Your Pandora’s box. You weren’t sure if you wanted to eat them all at once or simply leave the box on a table, lid off and sweets displayed, for visitors to coo over as they pass, but never to touch. Funnily enough, as he spoke once more, it came to your attention that you were having a vaguely similar tug-of-war about the man who had been feeding them to you. Keep him to yourself, or hand his secrets over to your brother? Hmm... 

“You know,” there was what you could only describe as a smouldering look in his eyes as he stared at you with his undivided attention, “I have plenty more fantasies that you could try if you’re looking for a certain flavour.” He gestured around him with his hands, but your stare never left his. “My whole shop is at your feet.” After a brief pause, he added, “As am I.”  

Only for a moment did you hesitate, looking over your shoulder past the thick green curtains and gold rails, out into the plain beige and white of the Galleries Gourmet, the people gazing through the spotless windows in wonder as they hurried past, and even further out into the street, where your brother was using your distraction of his rival to share his chocolate with the world as he waited for you to emerge safely. 

Feeling like a traitor to your brother, a fraud, a betrayer of the very blood that was pounding in your veins, you turned your back to the outside world and followed the dark, swaying shadow of the handsome man who turned to look at you, eyes twinkling, eyebrow raised, smile fixed, only the once before leading you deeper into the crowds of the shop floor.  

Oh, you were in trouble.  

Check out part two!

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Y/N: Well, you didn't have to worry about me.

Legend: Well, I did.

۵♡۵

It’s no secret the Yan!Chain is protective. None at all. But how protective are they each? Well, let’s unpack that shall we. (By the way, my memory is worse than Wilds at the rate i’m going, so If i forgot one of em just let me know)

Time

8/10 Solid breathing room, enough you can be left alone while he works. Enough you can take a wander around town without telling him first or speak to someone else. But not much beyond that. Not that he doesn’t trust you, but you loose so many people so many times and you tend to make sure that the people who stay round actually, you know, stay around. And, in his eyes, who wouldn’t want you? You’re so… good. Just wholeheartedly good and kind. And with a face like yours, it’s no wonder that people would stare, wanting to keep you all to themselves. So it’s best he does it first. Especially since he knows you best.

Twilight

10/10 inwardly 9/10 outwardly. Wolves are incredibly, incredibly protective of their chosen mates. Going any length to care for them and ensure their contentment with one another. With that said: congratulations, you are now house spouse. You aren’t leaving Ordon without him in tow. He trusts you just enough to stay at home while he works. But talking with other people read: other men doesn’t go over well. Your friends are his friends, the family you have connections with are his family. What’s yours is his and what’s his is yours. No one else included. Afterall, that’s the deal with marriage, right?

Hyrule

Probably around a 4 or 5/10. Still absolutely prepared to kick ass and look good doing it in the occasion that you need it, but more forgiving. You can have your own job, friends and life outside of his. But do keep in mind, he’s still out of his mind here. You’re being watched. The faeries are far more subtle than glowing with light when they need to be. Your relationship is more or less built on trust and understanding, so you’ll have an easier time bargaining for your freedom. But freedom only goes so far. He’s seen so much of the world that you couldn’t possibly see more. He’s got eyes everywhere. Every glade. Every forest. Every clearing. Every flower and blade of grass if it means he knows here you are.

Legend

6/10, if we’re being safe, but let’s be real: 7/10. Feral, will bite a man. He doesn’t restrict you so much, he wouldn’t dare being the cage his dearest wishes to escape from. But your environment? That’s a free playing field. Anyone who attempts to befriend you is met with his sarcastic rude remarks, any employers turn you down, any freedom beyond him and what he has to offer is not a freedom he trusts. You can be alone… ish. You’re babysat by Ravio. Or maybe your babysitting him… we’re getting off topic. He’s as restricting as he can be without being downright abrasive to you. He already knows he’s rough around the edges, but as long as you keep believing there’s more to him, he’s satisfied.

Four

4/10 (I’m Kidding) Actually: 9/10.

Another house spouse! Between Vio and Blue, you have no reason to be with anyone else. He’s practically four people in one, he can make you anything you want, you man the front of the blacksmiths while he’s in the forge -so you’re talking to the customers, clearly not alone- and anything else you’d ever need is readily available. Red is less protective and more clingy. You’re his heart, it’s only righteous he wants to keep you safe. Green is the one who borders. Any ‘freedom’ i.e: talking to customers that you do have is granted by him. And if you do happen to simply sprint off one day, I hope you’re aware the minish are far more capable of finding lost items than one might’ve thought.

Wild

like… 4/10? Ok ok ok, hear me out. So yes, anything so much as lay a finger on you, they’re meeting their maker. Yes. Agreed. But also, this man is a goof. You’re laughing, revelling, travelling, cooking, eating, rough housing, fighting… anything the moment calls for. Now yes, your hand is always clasped in his and he’d let a man bleed out of all you had was a paper cut, but he’s not as bad as the others. This does bump up in cities, he’s got an arm around your waist and adamantly refuses conversation with anyone but you, but comparing to the other heroes? Considerably more bearable.

Warriors

Considering this man has lived through a literal war, 8/10. But this is more for who you talk to and who might be of threat to you opposed to what your doing. If you want a job in the castle, fine by him. He already knows everyone there and has the ties to get them out of their jobs immediately if it comes down to it. Want a quiet life where you choose to be a house spouse? 100% fine by him. He’ll bring you flowers, make dinner, run errands, anything you’d like. But a life away from him? With the vermin who want nothing more than your downfall? The one exception. There are few people more capable than himself to care for you. And to him that means none. He will love you, because no one else has enough to love you as you require.

Sky

3/10 least, 5/10 most, He’s the most inconsistent. He wants you by his side but understands the surface and his line of work is dangerous. He doesn’t want you alone but there’s few options for friends. He wants to let you see the world and embrace it with open arms, weather it be falling through the sky with the wind whipping past your face or floating through the water, letting your joins rest or napping under a tree with him. He wants for you to have freedom. But with the world he was given, he’s afraid it’s not a choice.

Wind (platonic or as a crush. Testing to see how this goes because boy oh boy am i scared)

2/10. Granted, he’d walk or sail the ends of hyrule if it ment he could do much as hang out with you and he most definitely holds care for your well-being. But with that said, look at me and tell me there’s much critical thinking going on in his head. An argument between him and Vio would be interesting. I’d pay to watch that. Asides, while he’s definitely protective so to speak, it’s not excessive. And he’d be the most willing to let you go if it’s what you wanted. But not without letters, and nagging, and being annoying. Because it’s you you know he cares

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you happen have anything that's about food, but in the way that Dungeon Meshi is about food? (defined to me as, classic(TM) adventure but with food as a central feature) Generally food-centric games would be welcome too!

Theme: Dungeon Meshi, Food Adventures.

Hello friend, I am very excited about this week's request! I have some recommendations that have been simmering in the back of my head for a while now - a few of which can be used in the game of your liking!

Bakto’s Terrifying Cuisine, by Roll 4 Tarrasque.

"The entrance to the Kitchen Arena appears only to those hungry or foolish enough to find it. Perhaps a dusty pantry in a backwater restaurant, or a forgotten refrigerator in the basement of a busy hotel. The door closes behind you—it never opens again. At the bottom of a long set of pristine stairs, Bakto awaits."

Bakto’s Terrifying Cuisine is primarily an adventure for The Vanilla Game, which is free to play, but it strikes me as pretty system-friendly. You are all responsible for creating a dish for a hungry demon, and are provided with a dungeon map as well as descriptions of what waits for you in each room. The pamphlet also comes with 10 terrifying ingredients and 6 possible treasures, as well as a d6 table of random encounters. There’s so much packed into just 2 pages!

While this is probably only good for a one-shot or a two-shot, I think it’s definitely worth it. If you end up liking this game and want more from the same creator, you can also take a look at To Catch A Hellforged Swine, a system-agnostic adventure about hunting a cursed pig.

Gourmet Street, by theunlawfulneutral.

Gourmet Street is a setting that can be plopped directly into any world or adventure and serves up an extra side of gonzo fantasy. It is populated with street vendors serving every possible food you can conceive as well as a fascinating accoutrements of culinary artifacts, edible monsters, and bizarre dishes.

Another setting rather than game, Gourmet Street is great for OSR games like Knave or The Black Hack, but also works in games such as AD&D. It’s a street vendors’ alley, rife with rival factions and dangerous foods, as well as a series of custom, culinary-related monsters to throw at your players. There’s roll tables for dishes and their effects, as well as some descriptions of major food factions, including their defining characteristics, their advantages and disadvantages, and a quick summary of their values or goals. If you want the culinary process to be stick, dangerous, unpredictable and full of slime, this is the setting for you.

Iera Entera, by Nathan Blades.

In this world, Divine Beasts roam the land. Delivered to us from otherworldly realms, they lord over the grounds they manifest on. They’re incredibly violent, are replaced in mere days after being removed, and are capable of supernatural powers.

They’re also delicious.

This game takes the idea of eating monsters and turns it up to 11. You’re not just eating dungeon creatures - no, you’re hunting down Divine Beasts. The game is split into two sections - working out how to bring the Divine Beast down, and then figuring out how to cook the damn thing. If you are playing with folks who are familiar with Dungeon Meshi, I imagine they would have a lot of fun ideas about how to cook the entrails of a great beast, but there’s also three or four suggested beast hunts in the game itself to get you started.

Cook & Hero, by Raul Fontoura.

You’re an aspiring master cook, in a face off competition amongst worthy rivals to create the perfect dish. Unfortunately, you’re supposed to make it out of scary and scaly monsters in very dangerous underground conditions.

This is another pamphlet game, similar to Bakto’s Terrifying Cuisine, but the tone is very different. In Bakto’s, players are on the clock to satisfy a dangerous enemy. In Cook & Hero, the art conveys a more lighthearted competition, even if your character decides that it’s a matter of life or death. The 2-page game comes with some simple character creation, and the resolution uses a roll-under mechanic with a d10. It feels like it takes a number of cues from Honey Heist, but it’s definitely a distinct game.

Ghastronomy, by Timepool.

You are a ghastronomer, a chef that doesn’t cook for the living— but for the dead. You have been hired to help guide a ghost to the afterlife, by collecting the lost pieces of its soul and cooking ghostly grub to make it whole again.

Alongside your co-workers, you will arrive on the scene and use your cooking credentials and what you learned from each of your ghastronomy schools to find, obtain, and cook a wayward spirit's remaining traces. With proper planning, teamwork, and a little bit of luck—  you might just piece its soul back together before it fades away forever.

Ghastronomy looks fairly easy to learn, with an interesting apron mechanic in which your apron is also a shield. You’ll also probably all have different styles of cooking, as each character will come from a different culinary school. If you like the idea of cooking for more than just survival, and you want to incorporate the paranormal into your game, this might be for you!

Lutong Banwa, by Sinta Posadas / Diwata Ng Manila.

Lutong Banwa is a cooking game, where you set out to adventure and find ingredients from Spirits and recipes from old civilizations. Embark on this anti-canon storygame adventure with its own custom system and play to find out just what sort of zany adventures you can get up to in this weird, wild world. Do whatever you want.

Lutong Banwa feels like a cozier game than some of the others on this list, and I enjoy the perspective it brings to the genre. You are playing tamale, the successors of the earth after Humans have faded to history, trying to replicate old world dishes. Your characters will use a number of different-sided dice, depending on which stats they use, and what strengths they have. Rather than character death, your characters simply have a limited number of chances to complete a task before they are forced to rest for a day or so. Altogether the game encourages creative thinking and playing outside the box. I think this is an extremely charming game and you absolutely should check it out.

[thenightfolknetwork]

HELLO!!!!! GAVE ADVERTISMENT MOONS AGO!! VERY VERY GOOD FOR BUSINESS!!! SO MANY HANDS!!! SO MUCH M O N I E S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ££££££££€€€€€€

But... not all sunshine and roses...

HANDS SOLD GREAT!! GREAT AND FAST!!! HAPPY CUSTOMERS GALORE!!!!! UNTIL... Dolores.

DOLORES!!!!!!!!!!

I KNOW YOU READ THESE DOLORES!!!!!

EVIL VILE DOLORES!!! YELLS AT CUSTOMERS DOLORES!!! EATS THE MERCHANDISE WITHOUT PAY DOLORES!!!!!

CONTACTED LOCAL WITCHES FOR BANISHMENT RUNES!! BEGGED LOCAL WIZARD FOR NASTY CURSES!!! WEPT TO THE INDEPENDANT MERCHANT'S GUILD OF THE UNITED KINGDOM BUT NO!!! NOTHING!!!

She is still here!!!

AT WIT'S END!! OLD FISHMARKET CLOSE NOT JUST BUSINESS!! ITS HOME!!! LEAVE MY HOME DOLORES!!!

CUSTOMERS SUFFER!! MERCHANDISE SUFFER!! I SUFFER!!!! THE LAW TURNS BLIND EYES TO DOLORES!!! I FEEL...

helpless

Please!! How to banish nasty not-customer!!! HOW TO BANISH THE SCOURGE OF MY YELP REVIEW PAGE

Yes, I remember your advert. Vividly. I'm pleased to hear the investment paid off and that you saw a satisfying response.

I am so sorry this despicable person is causing you so much trouble. You are well within your rights as a business-owner to refuse to serve anyone creating such a hostile working environment - not to mention someone who is repeatedly stealing/eating your stock.

I am rather struck, however, at how ineffective your efforts have been thus far. She appears to possess an astonishing degree of power if she is able to resist banishment, curses, and the full might of the Independent Merchant's Guild.

This leads me to wonder what precisely is the true nature of this "Dolores" person. Reader, I'm afraid you may be dealing with a rather more powerful entity than you may initially have understood.

I want to be clear before I continue that the Nightfolk Network has a zero-tolerance policy for any kind of bigotry or hatred. I will not tolerate any anti-infernal comments on this post, or any suggestion that anything I'm about to say is true of extra-planar individuals in a general sense.

However, a reasonable assessment of the situation suggests that Dolores is drawing on powers beyond this world to enforce her presence in your shop. She may well be feeding on your distress and anger, maintaining a form she knows will be effective in causing the kind of response she desires.

I'm afraid there is no easy way of handling such a powerful entity. You will need to gather supplies and allies - from what you've told me, you'll need at least one Ancestral Weapon of Unsuspected Power, a handful of Ominous Rocks and at least one Magic User On The Cusp Of Being Overtaken By Their Own Powers. If you can contrive to make yourself a Chosen One, all the better - your local wizard should be able to knock up a decent prophecy to tick the necessary boxes.

Defeating the despicable Dolores will take a great deal of time and effort. But I truly believe that, with enough dedication and hard work, you'll be able to see it through.

And if dedication and hard work don't help, you can always pick up a bit of Power of Friendship to daub on the doorframe. That should do the trick.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]