#len mon

[aylinaliens]

i’m forgiving the fish kiss from mon simply because of that forehead kiss thames gave

[pjdmodules]

#0364

Module name: Bebop Knave Designer: Oonuma Mon

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - So Many GREAT Kisses!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

(Please notice I am now using 6 dots in all ellipses because according to Taiwanese BL that's how we queers roll. Who am I to argue?)

Sept 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - A most excellent glow up. And it’s still a great show. And I cannot wait to see the many different faces of War. Bring on the Leverage of One action-packed mess. I'm waiting.  

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 9 of 12 - I’m gonna say this because it drives me crazy. Why are boys in BL, when out and about the countryside, always dressed inappropriately for Thailand? If it’s hot, takeoff your damn jacket. I don’t mean to be crass or crazy or whatever. But don’t wear a jacket when it’s 90° with 90% humidity. In Thailand, jackets are for malls. Meanwhile, I’m an extrovert and that still seemed like an exhausting trip. Although, I suppose they didn’t show all the drive time in the van, when everyone is asleep.

Meanwhile, why are the sides so frustrating in this show? Authentic friends-to-lovers is always a slog. Finally a kiss! And a decent one.

New character? Aw! Hi Yu!!!! Gosh Putter is so cute.

Where were we? Oh yes, Beer is now heartbroken. Always the great fear in F2L that the friendship will be destroyed as a result. And it’s a decent fear. 

On a completely different note, I cannot help but wonder when somebody’s chue len is Beer, if that is because beer was involved in their conception. Like, it’s the name you give your "oops baby" from that drunken night at the club. Don’t mind me. I’m just over here in the corner being crass.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 8 of 12 - That was one of the cutest wake up sequences ever depicted. Utterly adorable. And now he’s blind again? Oh my God this is such a soap opera, I can’t even. Meanwhile, wicked ice prince finally made his move. Gah! Why aren’t we getting more of this couple? I always love the sides best with this production house.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I love a hard fraught game of badminton. Even though we actually didn’t see play. YoIng claiming was so cute!!! And their shower kiss was v hot. Yay little show! Also cute use of the punishment trope!

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - The weight upon the shoulders of our idiot good guy kidnapper continues to pile up. So does the affection. The dude playing Q has sanpaku eyes. Cool. He’s not a particularly good actor though. Rough because everyone around him is giving their very best.

The problem is. I'm noticing. I shouldn't be noticing all the talent trying so hard. That usually means there is something wrong with the story, or there was something wrong on the set.

I don't know what to say at this juncture except I have the sinking suspicion this might not actually be a good show. (Covers head and cowers. Don't hate me.) I'd loved to be proved wrong, but my faith is GMMTV is only about 50% these days. And it probably should be lower.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 6 of 10 - I was so confused by how we suddenly got on a trip together, that I went back and re-watched the previous installment. And it still isn’t explained. So I have no idea why our leads are on a trip but apparently that’s the next trope to hit. I also have no idea how they're suddenly boyfriends. I’m just generally confused by this episode. It’s like an alt reality. We skipped over all of the stuff where they actually got into a relationship. In general I wasn’t wild about this episode.

The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 12fin - The most realistic thing about this show is that everybody is everybody else’s ex on any given set. I feel that in my bones. Or do I mean boner?

Frankly, both actors look better after a glow up and I guess pretending to be more their actual ages suits them? Considering what was actually done to invoke youth (a lot of the shine and gloss) aging them was an anti-glow up. A great mattification? Well...... this was a somewhat lackluster finale. (Thank you, thank you, the pun was unplanned. It's a gift.)

I don’t know. I guess I wanted to see Jane suffer? Work HARD to get the kid he abandoned back? I would’ve liked to have seen Ryan a little bit more competent and capable and his job. Maybe dating someone else. But I also do not want any more episodes. This was more than enough. So instead no separation, just boyfriends and a montage of their lives together, getting new and better jobs, moving in together, being supportive and sweet, etc... LOOK: It’s never a good sign when I immediately want to rewrite the show that I just saw.

In conclusion:

A story about a group of interns at a commercial video production company. While I genuinely love OffGun, I’m not convinced this was a good vehicle for them. Is it terrible for me to say, I miss their PickRome days? I don’t think they’ve ever had rolls that suited them better. Still, theirs was the best storyline in this ensemble piece masquerading as a BL, although they still fumbled the ending. Thus, I enjoyed about a 1/3 of it as much as possible, and 2/3 of it less than conceivable. 7/10 and I seriously considered dropping it to a 6/10 so don't push me.

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 15 - Not gonna lie I was very skeptical. But I like it fine. Better than I expected because it’s been changed just enough. But it does need to stay changed. I don’t know what I’m trying to articulate here but…... I guess we’ll see.

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 3 of 5 - It’s cute in a weird disjointed way. I’m enjoying it enough, I guess. I do like how forthright and direct Kla is. 

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Ah. Bully romance. My old frenemy. Of course making this office based means +10 for workplace harassment. Well well well. This will be red flag party town I see. How VERY old school yaoi. It’s all very Cdrama CEO = dudes in suits walking on parquet (minus all the gay sex of course.) The jumping around between times and unfinished scenes is very strange. Is this Starhunter chaos only applied to a timeline?

Imma say this so they hear it at the back. YOU HAVE TO CHANGE THE HAIR. If you do time jumps: change. the. hair. It's the easiest and best clue if you aren't going to apply a filter or other cinematography tricks. JUST CHANGE THE DAMN HAIR STYLE.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - And now we all start using six dots in our……? A new coded way to indicate that one is into BL? I did think we were in a slight mire with ep 9, too much teacher filler. Not enough time spent with our boys. Meanwhile, sports day. Pouty Baby utilizing the power of Ge, in front of all of the classmates who do not realize how hard he is flirting and activating babygirl = one of the greatest things ever to happen on my screen. Essentially this was a version of the claiming trope, only nobody knew it but the two of them. Fucking genius. Yes, I watched it multiple times. Then babygirl is injured, the carrying and the flirting!!!! Gah!

I don’t mean to trivialize the show, but this is me and I can trivialize everything even something as brilliant as this. But that conversation about history at the beginning of ep 10...... Was that about topping and bottoming? Because it sure seemed that way.

And then...... Possibly the best only one bed trope twist ever?

This show is so fucking amazing.

And I am so worried about the end.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 7 of 10 - I love the kinkyness of our baby boy’s fantasy. Where he is the gift and his boyfriend is in uniform. Very nice. Thank you Japan. Never one to let kinky dogs lie. Also, the premise continues: one half thinks that they are already boyfriends and acts like it, and the other half is still trying to become a boyfriend. It’s absurd in that way that only Japanese miscommunication extraordinaire can be absurd. Also could Kyosuke be any more under his boy’s thumb? 

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 1-2 of 10 eps - Shiba is a top lawyer, angular aggressive bespectacled workaholic cat-type (Kitten? Babygirl? Tsundere? Some unholy combination of all 3?) I am reminded I should be more considerate of my potted plants. OMG the teasing and the little tongue sticking out. Haruto is such a flirt. I love this dynamic. What fun! Manic pixie dream boy but MAKE HIM EVIL! Or very high? Or a grifter? I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. But I’m enjoying it. It’s very...... very

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 12 - Oh! Good kiss. Smart to have the younger character initiate. I also like that he put a stop to it and then went and had a long conversation with a friend about it. Cautious boy. Also shows how in control of the situation Sea is becoming. It works for this BL since he has the stronger personality. I don't care what the characters say, this is about Sea becoming a rock for Neil.

But the secondary couple is actually winning this show. I want so much more of them. 

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 8fin - I’m not sure that blackmailing and entrapment, especially of your ex, necessarily justifies cheating. Plus I never like it when it’s gays against gays. But what did I expect from this show? This whole series was basically Korea’s version of messy gay. If you liked Only Friends you’ll probably enjoy this bullshit. And they were quite pretty. I, however, am monumentally displeased. 4/10 FATALLY FLAWED but still, basically, BL, however…... do we want to support this kind of behavior?

KOREA PLEASE GIVE US A NEW PROPER BL!! WHERE ARE YOU? WE ARE SAD AND LOST WITHOUT YOU.

It's like now they discovered boys can kiss they can't be happy.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL and it's exactly as expected. I do not like it at all. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. DNF 

In case you missed it

I FINISHED Meet You at the Blossom (China). I ate crow, binged the fucker, and live blogged the experience. I enjoyed it a lot and got quite witty (I think) there are also puns (warning). But if you don't wanna slog though it, here are my final thoughts:

This was undeniably a wuxia and most definitely a BL. Evil stunning princely Cheekbones meets and falls in love with the bisexual disaster Dimples of his dreams. There’s a lot of floaty fighting, tangled plot, and overworked emotions. From start to finish it is exactly as it claims to be, including more than the expected amount of sexual claiming (dubious conscent to the point of rape). I’m not wild about the wuxia genre, but I will tell you what I do like: Very pretty men in flowing robes + eye makeup + hair ribbons wafting about stabbing and kissing each other plus ridiculous soap opera machinations. I also like cheekbones and dimples. AND I love a stupid gay sleeve, okay? There was also truly epic levels of stink-eye, and that too is to be lauded. This show left me grinning like crazy. Was it great? Not really, but it was a great experience and I enjoyed it immensely. 8/10

4 Minutes (Gaga) Ended - Spies reported in to say the ending was not-exactly-unhappy and mostly lackluster. I'm torn over whether to watch. My natural disinclination to binge, meets my dissatisfaction with wishy-washy, is going up against my love of high heat and pretty men. Oh the age old struggle between art and lust.

Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke finished and it’s reported to be solid. Age gap treated with respect. I'm curious, so I'll check it out if I can get hold of non-G-drive subs.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming Sept 2024:

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love love love this execution of the punishment trope. What's Ai going to do to you, Yu? Ride you to death?

I Saw You in My Dream indeed.

Sigh. This show. (Addicted Heroin)

All praise one of BL's best-in-show glow-ups. Nicely done, Jack.

James, on the other hand. Never needs a glow-up. Still the prettiest. Has been since Oxygen. (Battle of the Writers)

He's playing the role of Saint in this show, thank you very much. Speaking of which, wouldn’t that be just the most gorgeous pairing in the entire universe? Saint and James? I’ll be in my bunk. 

Taiwan giving us a boop! Reminds me of Be Loved In House I Do, right up there with TharnType as chronic boopers.

Why is he SO GOOD in this show?

All Frist Note.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[frostyhelltime]

Alastor Realizes He Has Feelings For You Part 2 Preview

AN: I'm having a lot of fun writing the part two, which is already longer than the first. Whoops. I've seen some authors doing little previews of upcoming fics and thought the idea was super fun! So I thought I might share a small blurb of the upcoming fic. Hope you all like it!!

LINK TO PART ONE

UPDATE: PART 2 IS POSTED.

Alastor Realizes He Has Feelings For You Part 2 Preview

Alastor x GN!Reader

AN: I consider myself ace, personally. Demisexual to be specific. Demisexual falls under the ace umbrella technically, so I do tend to write Alastor from a more demisexual lens if it helps to kind of know what to expect. Hope you all enjoy! Also by this point Alastor has been using French pet names because he sees it flusters the reader but the reader has no idea what the hell he's calling them lmao

----------

“I feel like I'm going crazy…” He watched you mutter and it only made him smile more. So his actions were effective after all. You were just trying very hard to be respectful and polite to him since you knew his nature so well…an endearing gesture that just made him want to sink his claws deeper into you.

Knowing his actions affect you just emboldens him. When you share coffee in the morning with him and the two of you chat, tucked away in whatever room seemed to strike your fancy that day, he notices you seem to be avoiding his eyes, your head tilted down.

He tuts a moment, putting his coffee down and using one claw to tilt your head upward to face him, using his other hand to brush your hair away from your face to stop obscuring his attempts to look at you.

“There we are. Much better.” He smiles brightly at you, even as he sees the crimson rush to your cheeks. He lets his hands linger a little longer before he releases you and picks his coffee cup back up again, as if what he's done wasn't abnormal in the slightest.

“A-Alastor…?” He hears you ask tentatively, and he thinks his patience is finally going to pay off.

“Yes mon cœur?” He asks, tilting his head to the side in an innocent manner that is a laughable contrast to what you know of the radio demon's legacy and reputation.

“I..” He leans forward slightly, eager for your expected confession, his eyes drifting down to your throat as he watches you swallow thickly from nerves.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media au

✯charles leclerc x female reader

✯nothing beats the summer break, the water, the sun and of course you’re extremely handsome boyfriend

✯not requested just an idea i had with the new photos of charles<3

yninsta

liked by charles_leclerc, leclercpascale, wagsoff1 and 879,000 others

in front of the lens and behind the lens, cheers to summer break☀️

tagged charles_leclerc

see 100,000 comments

username yes we’re finally getting summer break content!!

username hottest couple? yes.

carla.brocker😍😍

liked by yninsta

charles_leclerc taking photos of the most beautiful woman alive all break long 😘

>yninsta i love you char❤️

username okay but y/n??? charles can you fight?

leclercpascale remind charles to wear his spf!!!

>yninsta on it maman!!

>charles_leclerc 🙄

username have the best summer break!!!

yninsta added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, yninsta, apmmonaco and 1M others

summer break with my love, life can’t get better❤️

tagged yninsta

see 278,000 comments

username CHARLES LOOKING SCRUMPTIOUS

username y/n and charles forever🫶🏻

yninsta ❤️❤️❤️❤️

liked by charles_leclerc

charlotte2304 cute!!!!🤍

>yninsta see you tonight 🥰🥰

username leclerc family dinner incoming!!!

scuderiaferrari enjoy your break!

charles_leclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

yninsta

liked by carla.brocker, charles_leclerc, charlotte2304 and 989,000 others

the views, the girls and a beautiful summer break, what else could a girl want?❤️

tagged carla.brocker, charlotte2304

see 105,000 comments

username the best trio!!!

username please they’re all so gorgeous 😭

username charles, arthur and lorenzo are so lucky

charles_leclerc me, you could want me 😁

>yninsta chérie you’re right beside me

>charles_leclerc YOU CAN STILL WANT ME🥹

>yninsta i always want you baby❤️

username lmfao needy charles

charlotte2304 my girls🩷

carla.brocker i love you both!!!🥰

username i’ll never get enough of them😌

charles_leclerc

liked by joristrouche, yninsta, leclercpascale and 2M others

summers with you❤️

tagged yninsta

see 342,000 comments

username 😭😭😭

username pls i love these two

username y/n and charles keep me going i swear

yninsta my love!!!

yninsta i want all my summers with you❤️❤️

>charles_leclerc forever❤️

leclercpascale c’est si gentil char❤️

>charles_leclerc merci maman❤️

username pascale being their biggest supporter i swear

yninsta

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, arthur_leclerc and 976,000 others

this year’s break will be one to remember, thanks for making it feel so special char🩷

tagged charles_leclerc

see 99,000 comments

username WHEN IS IT MY TURN!

username my favs my favs my favs

charles_leclerc thank you for loving me the way you do baby❤️

>yninsta always and forever mon cœur 🩷

username idk who i’m more jealous of

arthur_leclerc keep being sappy around me to a minimum 😃

>yninsta don’t make me bring @/carla.brocker into this 😁

>carla.brocker ☺️☺️☺️

username this family 😭😭

[srbachchan]

DAY 5922

Jalsa, Mumbai May 5/6, 2024 Sun/Mon 12:27 AM

🪔 ,

May 03 .. birthday greetings to Ef Elena Iankova .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

May 04 .. birthday greetings to Ef Alka Agarwal .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

May 05 .. birthday greetings to Ef Serious Jane .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

some greetings do get the aide of a repetition .. some that may have left , or not seen .. but our greetings ever for all .. 🙏

the love as ever .. the bearing of the summer heat as ever .. the provisions , though scanty but with the hope that those in need , get the need .. the water the cooling of the fans and the mist of the aqua that emanates from the blades .. !

Does it .. ??

I do hope ..

There is a stimulus that creeps in each starting of the day :

WHAT NEXT ..!

So alright, get up, complete the morning formalities .. 'formalities' .. and while they formulate , the mind rumbles along ahead to -

WHAT NEXT ..!

yes there is the remembrance of the scriptures and its recite .. the written and the believed and the known by the heart .. and in its midst the coming across mind set, of what the society 'gurus' and the 'bhagwaans' reveal in expounding to many that follow , that they do not believe in believing , they stipulate that it must be known .. known scientifically .. else belief is unsatisfactory .. and even go on to give it some striking poisonous explanations and words .. and I think in mind -

WHAT NEXT .. !

and you turn the page and wind up to the routine mentioned and guided by scheduling by the workplace .. the place where you earn the living .. and check and study the pages as you fed the first meal of the day , and pick the belongings essential for the pending work .. and then -

WHAT NEXT .. !

yes the destinational deliverance by the mode of relevant comfort if affordable and the charting of the consumed time to the place , by the study of the pages or the system of committed inform and wellness asking .. and the reach of the place and the walk to the vehicle of secondly home and then -

WHAT NEXT .. !

Ahh .. yes the face that delivers the deliverance of earn , and the studied application to its bearing by long lasting attendance and company .. with anxious glances to the small lit red box of time , and then -

WHAT NEXT .. !

the wonder then of the compilation of the written and the lens and the those with your side and the given consideration for the eat and the sleep and the up again to freshness deserved or in the most, just continue .. and then -

WHAT NEXT .. !

the wonder back in the deliverable machined movements of the done and what awaits the reside , and what transpire shall be and after -

WHAT NEXT .. !

Yes yes yes .. the game with the white rotund the three the 22 distance the competition and the results , the grief and joy and then -

WHAT NEXT .. !

❤️

❤️

❤️

THIS .. THIS .. THIS ..

and the ever graciousness of them about the GOJ .. some constants .. some fresh .. some uninterested , some asleep , and a few driven by the express on card pictures ..

signed sealed delivered ..

Amitabh Bachchan

[merakiui]

11:11 — sugar dew sewn anew.

yandere!rook hunt x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, violence, murder/death of reader, description of blood/injuries, rook is rather morbid and creepy in this fic note - this fic is the result of a character fic poll, in which rook was the winner.

“You wear a very forlorn face when you paint, mon cher.”

You swivel on the stool, legs unfolding at the ankles, to properly peer past the easel at the man who sits in a gold-and-white satin chair, backdropped by various animal heads. They’re mounted with such care, each one organized according to where it lies on the food chain. They almost form a pyramid when you look at them from where you’re seated. From a dusky brown house mouse to a pitch-black crow, the heads range in species and size, all arranged on a vermillion wall. 

The biggest one, sitting in the very center of the display, right above your client’s head, is a chestnut-colored buck with a pair of magnificent antlers curling from its scalp. From where Rook sits, it almost looks like those horns are sprouting from his head. Contemplating the discrepancies between man and buck, you swirl your brush through a muddy cup of water and survey the rest of the aureate placards until you reach the top.

There’s a mount lacking a head. 

It was the first thing you took notice of after stepping through the halls of this quaint cabin to reach the sitting room. Although, after spending hours enclosed in cedarwood walls, it feels more like a trophy room—a place meant to showcase the spoils of every hunt rather than welcome people with disarming decorations. 

Rook crosses one leg over the other and, resting his elbows upon his knee, steeples his hands. You peer at the antlers, noting the valiant curvature, before meeting his verdant stare. A grin slowly sprawls on his lips once he realizes you’ve caught his gaze. 

“I concentrate on my source,” you explain with a shrug, still twirling the brush through the water. “Steady focus makes a steady hand…or something along those lines.”

“And yet you never smile, even when working so diligently to bring your masterpiece to completion.”

“If I viewed it as such, then I would have reason to smile.” Your contemptuous scowl slides to the canvas, where you’ve painted two dull green eyes set into a freckle-speckled face. The beginnings of a smile trace the portrait’s plush lips, withholding secrets no one will ever know. “I’ve yet to create a masterpiece. Therefore I can’t smile.”

“Oh, you’re much too critical of your art!” Unclasping his hands, Rook places one upon his chest, as if he must calm his heart after hearing your response. “I’ve studied your work, both through a screen and in person, and as your devout follower I can wholeheartedly say it is beautiful in every way, even down to the miniscule flaws other critics often spot with sharp, perceptive eyes!”

“You speak as if I lead a cult,” you admit with a sheepish chuckle. “I’m just painting the things I find interesting.”

“For a reason, I assume?”

“Usually it’s to find inspiration for what I hope will be my first masterpiece. I’d like to finally feel proud of my work.” The brush peruses the colorful selection on your palette, settling into the green you’ve mixed from yellow and blue. “It’s not that I’m unhappy. I just can’t find it in me to love what I produce.”

“But you enjoy creating, yes?”

“Of course. It’s what I’ve been doing for years. Painting allows me to understand the world and its inhabitants through my own lens.” You put brush to canvas in a series of small, significant strokes. “So when I’m painting… Well, I guess I just want to try to love the things I put on my canvases, even if it’s impossible.”

“Is that so? Then I’m beyond flattered you would ever consider using me as your most beloved muse!” He tilts his head, suddenly more animated than when he first sat down to pose for you, and adds, “I love you, too. Very much, my little artiste.”

“Are you just saying that so I’ll paint you handsomely?”

“Why, I would never say anything that would influence or persuade your process! Just as I love sweetly and solemnly, I also love monstrously and mercilessly. The primal facets of humankind are not exempt from my loving eyes. Even the most dirty and deceitful corners of this world—I love those just as fiercely. So should you choose to depict me as a fiend, I will adore your representation regardless of its harsh implications. After all, there’s beauty in tragedy.”

“And would that make life the greatest tragedy?” You hum as you add a sadistic glimmer to the eyes on the canvas. They pierce you with their unblinking stare, hollowing your soul until they reach unfathomable depths. “Or maybe it’s the ability to love with such a big heart?”

“Are you suggesting love is a tragedy? I suppose, in some sad sense, it is. Unrequited feelings, shattered hearts, lovers separated by way of death or divorce, and even the type of love that curdles like spoiled milk—oh, the misfortune! Each is a tragic tale spun from a mixture of melancholy or the intensity of hatred and all-consuming loneliness. But even so, no matter how horrendous it may seem, I hold each in my heart. They’re beautiful because they have the unique ability to shape a person into someone new—for better or for worse.” 

You lower your arm, hesitating while the excuses rise to the surface, before turning to look at him. “I’ve never known real love, Mr. Hunt, which is why I’m trying to capture it while I paint. I suspect I’ll be able to smile at my work because it will be something I’ve fallen in love with. Only then can I consider it a true masterpiece.”

“Your way of thinking is simply très bien!” He drums his fingers along his knee, humming his contemplation. “I’d love to unscrew your skull and poke through your brain. I wonder what memories have shriveled your ability to love…”

“It’s not that it’s shriveled. It’s just…” You shrug, losing your previous statement. “The words ‘I love you’ are just that—words. I have no use for meaningless sentiments. If I force myself to love, it feels wrong. I can like people and things, but loving them is too much. I can’t cross that line. If I did, I’d be a liar.” 

“Ah, so it’s like that…” Rook chuckles, but none of what you said was remotely humorous. His voice lowers to a whisper, ghostly and haunting, as if wrapping around your head and settling into the very folds of your brain. “I find it charming that you’re unable to love and I love too much. We possess many differences, and yet at the very center of it all we’re merely human beings composed of flesh and blood. It’s a beauty more stunning than the most radiant sunset!”

You pretend to have not heard him, resigning yourself to your work as you spend an absurd amount of time trying to illustrate the peculiar glaze in his eyes. They’re always so bright, but here you’ve painted them as soulless, viridescent sockets—a dark, dense forest having lost its vivid greenery with winter’s frost. But then there is not an ounce of ice within Rook’s eyes. They are always smoldering with many things: enthusiasm, intellect, new opinions just waiting to be shared regardless of whether or not you wish to hear them. It’s a genuine warmth, but something feels strange. Out of place. Much like the headless mount poised right above Rook to form the tip of the pyramid. 

Why is that mount lacking a head?

Without realizing it, you’ve abandoned your task with fixing his eyes to start on the antlers poking from a head of canary-hued hair. 

“You live up to your surname, sir.”

“Please, you’re much too formal with your fan. You need only call me Rook, should it suit your fancy.” He giggles when you pin him with a dubious glare. “Is it so wrong to label myself as such? I go to great lengths out of admiration and support of your work. Wouldn’t that, by definition, make me your fan?”

“I’m not very famous.”

“In my eyes, you are the famed sun and I am merely the moon who hopelessly pursues.” 

“Really? Well, I wasn’t aware I had an eloquent hunter for a fan.”

“Do you find my hobby eccentric?”

“No. It’s normal to enjoy all sorts of pastimes. Hunting is as much of a hobby as it is a sustainable sport. In older times, most people would hunt for the sake of survival.”

Rook nods, his gaze flicking towards the heads on the wall. You dip your brush in brown paint to add more color to the antlers. “It takes immaculate patience to be a hunter. Most hunts are not always successful.”

“Is there a reason you hunt?”

“It’s in a human’s nature to obtain the unobtainable, and I seek beauty in its most visceral forms.”

“I see…”

“Do you?” Rook crosses his legs again, but this time his posture is stiffly statuesque. “Is obsession not the most flattering form of dedication?”

“It’s not exactly how I’d go about defining dedication… But then I suppose everyone has their reasons.” You steal a peek at the headless mount. “Do these heads mean anything to you?”

“Why, of course! They are the beautiful animals I have pierced with my arrow, whether or not I intended to. Often, when you trek through the territory of beasts, you might need to release a mortally wounded animal from its suffering.”

“So a mercy kill.” Your eyes return to the painting, where you set to work adding tiny blossoms along the curved antlers. “Doesn’t that upset you?”

“So goes the cycle of life, I’m afraid. I would be a daring fool to interfere with the balance of the world.”

“Have you ever lost any of your hunts?”

Rook hums, tapping out a rhythm against the top of his hand. The pads of his fingers fall in rapid succession: tick, tick, tick, tick. “As a matter of fact, I have! Just last week, after your departure, I lost the mouse I’ve been trying to catch for years now.”

“Years? Shouldn’t you give up?”

“Not until I feel that mouse’s heart beat within my enclosed fist.” He smiles wide, flashing flawless rows of pearly whites. Under the dim lighting, they appear sharp and predatory. “I suspect I’ll get lucky tonight.”

“How can you be sure? Mice are difficult to catch with bare hands. You’ll need a trap.”

“Mon cher, you wound me! I would never make such an amateur error.” He chuckles to himself, relishing in the cruelty of a joke that doesn’t quite land. “When I set my sights on something, it’s a guarantee I will catch it, even if I must play a dreadful waiting game.”

“My apologies. I was only passing on a helpful tip.”

You pull away from the canvas to inspect the strands of white dahlias curled around the man’s antlers. Frowning, you raise your arm, intending to slash through the portrait with a streak of black paint, when it occurs to you that you need only add red. 

But before carmine, you return to nature reflected in wide greens.

“Has my dear artiste ever hunted before?”

“No, not really. I seek inspiration all the time, but I wouldn’t call that a hunt.”

“Oh? Please elaborate.”

“There are stakes in a hunt. Life and death. Danger. A battle of wits between predator and prey. Looking for inspiration is just a matter of searching and exploring. It might lead some down scary paths, but for me it’s a matter of reading more books or taking a stroll through the town. I don’t like dangerous things, so I tend to avoid them.”

“It pays to be cautious, no?”

“Right. Shouldn’t you be the same, Rook? As a hunter, don’t you worry about what might happen if you aren’t careful?”

“Of course there are worries! That comes with every profession and hobby.” He gestures to the plastic tarps plastered to the floor and walls. “You worried you’d sully my floors, and to ease such a fear I put these protective plastics up. My worries for hunting may be different, but they are worries all the same.”

“I guess that’s true… Well, what do you worry about?”

“Whether I’ll be fast enough to catch my prey when they’re unarmed and unaware.”

“O-Oh… That’s a little…”

Rook laughs a guttural laugh—a sound that comes right from the depths of his chest. “Imagine something you’ve always wanted. Picture it slipping through your fingers, just out of your reach, and now you’ve lost the chance to seize it. Is that not worth a worry or two?”

“I can’t say. I’ve never tried to chase after things I knew I wouldn’t be able to have.”

“Mon cher, you must learn to take risks. How else will you live?”

“I live perfectly fine without the need to step out of my comfort zone.”

Rook hums. “I think you’d change your tune if you found yourself in a risky situation.”

“Define risky.”

“Life and death.”

You pause, your brush poised at the pupil in his eye. “Everyone wants to survive. It’s in our nature as animals. A very basic instinct.” 

“And despite our most dedicated efforts to stall the inevitable, death catches us all—some sooner than most.”

“This is getting kinda…morbid.” 

“Haven’t you wondered,” he asks, and you don’t hear the wood creak under approaching feet, “what someone might do if they found your corpse?” 

He’s behind you. Five steps away in this cubic space. The man with antlers has crawled out of the canvas that once confined him, and he’s behind you. 

The mount on the wall lacks a head. 

The man in the chair lacks antlers. 

The creature in the portrait lacks humanity.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a voice recorder tucked away beneath the chair. 

You swallow thickly, your heart in your throat. “I… I’m not sure. I’d hope they’d give me a proper, respectful burial if I died of natural causes.” 

And if it wasn’t natural causes? 

You don’t hear him verbalize the question, but somehow you catch it amidst the smothering silence.

“If it wasn’t natural causes…” You force a laugh, but it’s flat and misplaced just like the headless mount. “That would be murder, right?”

His shadow looms behind you, cast ominously dark over the earthly colored canvas. Slowly, so slowly, your free hand lowers to the pocket in your artist’s apron, where a dozen palette knives rest. Trembling fingers peruse the selection, locating the one with the sharpest point, and it’s the heaviest burden you’ve ever secured in your fist. You remain sitting horribly still on the stool, listening only to the frantic, slick sound of blood rushing in your ears. 

Steeling your frayed nerves, you whirl just as he descends. 

There’s a pause, a stumbled heartbeat, and then raw fear coagulates into confusion when you find him sitting primly in his chair, his verdant stare striking through you as if it’s an arrow he’s just loosed. It hits its mark, for it leaves you pinned in perplexity. 

He was behind me.

“And… And what about you?” you ask, your tongue heavy and thick in your mouth. “If someone… If I found your corpse, what would you want me to do with it?”

He was behind me. I’m sure of it.

“That wouldn’t happen.” His lips curl into a cat-like smile, and he angles his head curiously. “Normally it’s the other way around.”

You see it, then. The silver glint of a sharpened meat cleaver. It lies in his lap, where his fingers curl around the wooden handle, and all while holding eye contact he continues to smile. His teeth are refined cutlery in the light: artfully honed, yet not quite serrated, they’re tough enough to bite and tear and chew. Like a deer trapped in the hauntingly hypnotic glow of oncoming headlights, you don’t dare move. Perspiration wets your brow, slides down your back between your shoulder blades. You lick your lips. Anticipation claws through your intestines, nestling in the very pit of your stomach. Bile creeps its way up your throat like acidic fingers.

What’s happening?

“Come now, ma souris, don’t give me such a sullen face! I’ve shown you my hand. Isn’t that a miracle more beautiful than life itself?”

Your hold on the little palette knife tightens. “One person’s going to leave this room,” you say, your eyes sliding to the recording device, “and it’s not going to be me. Isn’t that right, Rook?”

“I can’t possibly say,” he affirms, dulcet and smooth like rivers of blood running ruby-red from a broken nose. His finger drums a rhythm against the flat side of the cleaver. “But I can certainly guess.”

Carefully, you rise from the stool. His eyes track you, so full of the vitality of the color green. More than that, they’re bright with bloodlust and you’ve been caught in the crosshairs of his cutting gaze. He peers at your unfinished painting and chuckles.

“Even your interpretation of me is beautiful! It’s an honor to be your fan, ma souris. Truly, I’m quite happy.”

You brandish the palette knife as if that will do anything to protect you from him. He stands from his seat, a monster adorned in gloomy garb. Like a stain against the red wall of heads, he no longer fits into the picture you once thought he did. Rather, he is blight in human form, a sinister omen housed within a skeleton encased in friendly skin. 

And he’s walking right towards you, putting one foot in front of the other, in no hurry to rush. The cleaver taps against his hip as he approaches, each bump mirroring every one of your heartbeats with startling accuracy. 

“Are… Are you unhappy with my portrayal?” you ask, not particularly interested in his reply, but desperate to keep him talking at arm’s length. 

For every step he takes, you take two backwards. 

“Not at all! In fact, I’m flattered.” Rook narrows his eyes at you, sickly entertained. “You’ve made prey out of a predator. Not many are capable of such a generous feat.” 

Your back connects with the door. Swallowing thickly, you search for the door knob. “Do you really see yourself as one? You don’t have to be one. Y-You can be neither. You’re only human.”

“Ah, but humans are the worst kind of predator.”

“What makes you say that?” Your fingers wrap around the metal door knob.

“Humans are afforded choices. We think through decisions. We make merry with our enemies and then hurt them after they’ve properly settled. We are complex in a way that differs from other animals. Predators are bound by survival, always trapped in high-stakes life or death, unable to truly make a decision that ventures beyond whether they wish to live another day or become sustenance for those who sit a rung above on the food chain. You see, we are not simple predators.” He raises the cleaver and points it at you. “As for humans, we can decide if we want to feel something when we hurt and kill. We can communicate in languages simple predators can’t use. Oh, the beauty of words!” He chuckles, elated. “To pluck a phrase from my vast lexicon: I’m going to take your life for myself, ma souris. Stow it within the depths of my very soul so that I may be the only one to treasure your rarity.”

The confession guts you quicker than his knife ever could. 

Wrenching the door open, you turn on your heel and step through, ready to break into a sprint, when heavy footfalls make their way towards you from behind. He covers the meager distance in seconds, wrapping a muscled arm around your torso and yanking you back into the room. You scream, words and sounds mixing into something incoherent, and elbow him in the ribs with as much force as you can muster. He releases you and you, fueled with panic and adrenaline, drop to your knees just as he swings, your hand closing around the palette knife you had previously lost. 

Somehow you manage to get back on your feet when he descends again, this time intentionally missing your shoulder when he brings the cleaver down. It cuts through the sliver of space between empty air and your own body, narrowly missing you by a hair. You throw yourself against the wall, entangled in a plastic tarp that comes loose from its hooks. They fall around you in noisy pitter-patters, something akin to metallic rainfall, and you hit the floor with a harsh thump.

And all the while, the mounts continue to peer at you with glass eyes.

“There’s no need to fall over yourself in a frantic haste. You’ll waste all of your energy, and even then adrenaline won’t be enough to fuel you. I’ll catch you if you aren’t careful…” He smiles at you from where he stands, green eyes cold with calculation. “Let’s take a moment to chat, shall we? I’d like to regale you with the five stages of the delightful thing known as prey drive. You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?”

“No, of course not,” you spit, vitriol lacing every syllable. Your pupils flit about the room, tracing the cleaver in his hand and then flickering towards the chair. The recording device sits in shadow, just within your reach. If you can stand up, take two steps forward, and drop down when he moves to intercept, you might be able to retrieve it. “Enlighten me since you seem so eager to run your mouth.”

Rook chuckles and enunciates his every step with a whistle. He reaches the chair in three steps and kicks the recording device out from under it. You watch it skid across the floor towards you, settling mere inches from your feet. You glance at it; it’s still recording, seconds stapled into it with every tick of your heart.

“A dog searches.” His back is turned to you, and he gazes at the mounts on the wall. You lower just enough to swipe the device from the ground. It’s not heavy in your palm; rather, it’s palm-sized and it slips into your pocket like a silent knife through butter. “And when it finds, it stalks. Have you caught the pattern yet?”

His neck is right there. All you need to do is rush up to him, grab him from behind, and drive the palette knife so far into the side of his neck that it’ll surely cause some sort of distress. Or you could turn and run. You have evidence. You have his address. You have your car. You can escape. You can drive far away from this horrifying cabin in the woods and never return. You can live. 

You can run.

“And from there…” 

So you do.

He whirls just as you dart through the door, over the threshold into the hall, and you miss the crazed twinkle reflected in wild, untamed green eyes. Rook’s laughter follows you, airy and light like a comforting breeze. He’s alive with murderous delight, and you’re nearly dead with fright. 

“Ensues the chase!” he calls out, so close in the cramped confines of the hall that his voice nearly grazes you. 

You swallow your sobs, pressing onwards with hardened resolve, and follow the length of the hall until it spits you out into another room. It’s undeniably a kitchen, what with the refrigerator and microwave pushed into a corner, but it’s furnished more like a lab. Nearly every appliance is metallic and the floors are tiled, constructed with surfaces that are perfect for washing away pesky fluids. A drain is built into the very center of the floor, sticking out like the nastiest bruise. You spy meat hooks hanging in place of where spatulas and whisks ought to be—both of which are innocent culinary tools meant to assist in food preparation rather than something killer. 

Spinning on your feet, you locate the door opposite of where you stand in the small kitchen-lab and take a momentous step towards it, hoping it leads you closer to an exit and further from your hunter, when a cold hand seizes your wrist, spidery digits curling into your skin. A shrill scream rips from the depths of your throat, surely shredding your vocal chords into bloody ribbons. You struggle, yanking your arm in vain, for his hold is impossibly strong. He tugs you towards him, his feet moving in time with the shuffling of yours. It’s a stiff stalemate of a waltz. You pull away and he pursues, his hand creeping up your arm in an attempt to pin it to the nearest surface. With another helpless shriek, you tear yourself free, staggering backwards against the metal table, which rolls further away on well-oiled wheels. Your horrified reflection blinks back at you in the shine, and with a sunken heart you realize it’s a dissection table. 

“Mon cher, I must say, you wear disarray so naturally. It’s far too forbidden for my simple eyes to behold.” 

“Why… Why are you doing this?” Your voice is thick with terror, sore from screaming, and you wipe furiously at your glossy eyes. “Please stop… You’ve had your fun. Now… Now let me go. I… I promise I won’t come back here again. Y-You can keep all of the supplies and the canvas. Just let me go…”

A secretive smile stretches slowly across his lips. “Oh, how Fortuna graces me with the benevolent opportunity to admire these special sides of yours. To be able to witness the rawness of pure horror after cornering the most dangerous animal of all…” He pricks his finger on the tip of the blade and adds in a breathy whisper, “Beauté.”

A disgusted shiver claws its way up your spine. You glare at him. “So it’s the thrill you enjoy, yeah? It doesn’t faze you that you’re going to kill an innocent person?!” 

He tilts his head. “Rather than snuffing your light, I intend to give new life to your excellence. In many ways, aren’t I also an artist?” 

“Like hell! You’re crazy!” You take a step back when he advances, moving towards you like a graceful panther stalking its prey. Your grip on the palette knife tightens. “What did I ever do to you to deserve this?” 

“Nothing, mon amour.”

“N-Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing!” he reaffirms, rather conversationally, and the frustration-riddled tension in your body deflates all at once. 

“But… But I thought—” You shake your head, hopelessly searching for a means of convincing him otherwise in his pursuit, and say, “I thought you… You said you loved me! Can you really hurt someone you love?”

Rook hesitates, his feet shuffling to a halt, and he peers blankly at you, all emotions veiled in a stoic mask. “While it’s true that I will always cherish you in life, I must also come to love you in death. If I’m unable to accept even the rotting and decaying sides of everlasting love that most shy away from, then I’m simply undeserving of my title as a hunter. If I seek the wonders of life, it’s only fair I seek the wonders of death all the same. You understand, don’t you?”

“No! In what world would I ever understand that logic?!” You point the palette knife at him. “You don’t have to kill me. You really don’t have to…”

“I suppose, if I’m to apologize for anything, I should ask that you forgive my greedy behavior. I’m hopelessly infatuated with your work, so allow me to thank you for all that you have shown me tonight. I promise to repay your tenderness tenfold.”

He smiles, stepping aside to allow you passage through the door, and foolishly you take the bait. It’s a run through tar—something you’d only ever experience in a dream, in which outrunning a villain is an impossible task. You make it through the door and out into the hall, and from there your only goal is to mindlessly flee towards safety. Tears obscure your vision, clinging to your lashes like fragile sugar dew. 

You think you see the outline of a faraway door, but perhaps it’s just the illusion brought on by mournful tears. 

You think you’ll make it to freedom, but perhaps it’s just the animalistic desire to survive that ignites your nerves. 

You think you can escape the horrors of encroaching affection, but it slips into your hand, tight and reassuring. 

Tugged into the kitchen-lab, your back collides with Rook’s chest. His grip is bone-crushing, and you don’t hear anything he’s saying—is he humming or waxing poetry?—but you feel the warmth of spreading blood as it soaks through your shirt and stains your artist’s apron. The palette knife slips from your grasp, landing on the floor with a noisy clatter. You peer down at your abdomen, where the cleaver is snugly nestled in your stomach. 

The cleaver. 

It’s in your stomach. 

He’s stabbed you. 

The cleaver. 

It’s in your stomach. 

It doesn’t hurt. Not at first. The shock snuffs the agony. He twists it gingerly, once or twice, before he yanks it out. Sticky strings of torn flesh and blood cling to the blade, connecting it to the injury he’s inflicted. Then you feel the rush of torturous, agonizing pain, and it stings more than anything you've ever experienced before. Red-hot, thick trails of blood trickle through your fingers when you shakily place your hand upon the wound, hoping to stop the flow. Rook clicks his tongue and guides you towards the dissection table, your feet dragging bonelessly upon the floor as you’re led along. You try to fight him, but everything’s so painful, and so all you can manage is a slight shake of the shoulders. Your world spins, and your mind reels as it struggles to process the dangerous gash. 

“After the chase,” he says, lowering you onto the table despite your blubbery protests, “the dog grabs its prey in a sharp-toothed bite and then it kills.” 

“S-Stop… You…” Your fingers curl into shredded skin, and you press down with as much strength as your shuddering body can muster. Blood continues to seep through the cracks between your fingers. “You… You’ll kill me…”

“Well, that’s the point, no?” Rook pets your cheek, fondness glittering in his green eyes. 

You peer up at him through bleary eyes, reaching for his face with a trembling hand. “Please… I’m begging you… It h-hurts… Please…” A helpless sob wracks through your frail form. “Please, Rook…”

For a while—whether an eternity or merely a few seconds, it’s hard to discern—he watches you fade in and out of consciousness, your groans a haunting melody in the discomforting quiet. Eventually, his hand finds yours on the table, limp and twitching, and envelops it in a firm hold.

Blissfully ignorant to your wheezing gasps, he begins to murmur: “‘Out—out are the lights—out all. And, over each quivering form, the curtain, a funeral pall, comes down with the rush of a storm. While the angels, all pallid and wan, uprising, unveiling, affirm that the play is the tragedy, ‘Man.’” He looms over you like a ghastly shadow, lips arranged in a gleeful grin. “‘And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.’”

The time is 11:11 at night when you finally fall into Death’s frigid embrace, never to wake again. 

11:11 - the mystical time at which the universe tugs celestial cotton from its ears and listens to wishes and woes alike. it is not a promise that all wishes will be granted and all woes will be soothed at this hour.

The time is 11:11 in the morning, and sweet, twittering birdsong flutters into the trophy room through a window left ajar. 

The sun has long since risen, casting radiant beams through the thinning slices between the trees. Rook Hunt hums as he works, deft fingers perusing various cosmetics arranged on a metal tray. Eyeshadow is applied to delicate, paper-thin eyelids, each one pinned open in the permanence of preservation. Glass marbles are set into hollow sockets, colored in memory of the eyes that were once attached to a brain via optic nerves. He matches foundation to the skin tone, which works well to hide meticulous stitching and mottled flesh. He’s humming in tune with the birds, the nearby rushing stream, and the swaying foliage caught up in a wind gust, relishing in nature’s symphony. 

“You claimed you’d finally smile after you’ve learned to love,” Rook observes, petting the top of the head, feeling human hair beneath his rough, calloused palm. “And now you beam brighter than the sun outside! Perhaps it’s because of me? You’ve always been so honest with your heart. It’s a facet I most adore.”

His gaze slides towards the unfinished painting propped against the wall, where an antlered man smiles at his viewer, his green eyes filled with a mysterious forest. 

“Have you always thought me to be prey?” Rook pauses, awaiting an answer, and snatches a lipstick from the selection. “Or maybe this is an artist’s ideal vision… Perhaps it’s a fantasy you’ve wished to see or a place you’ve always wanted to visit. Escapism is most magnificent when it’s comforting.” He opens the lipstick and surveys the color with his observant greens. He inhales deeply and catches notes of the cedarwood cabin walls and the floral perfume he spritzed on his dear artiste. “Though it may not be your masterpiece, it’s one that will forever fascinate.”

Red blooms on dry lips that can no longer scream or protest. He cups a cheek stuffed with the finest wood wool, palming an area that was once bruised and broken. The grisly mark has been painted over, and now it is out of sight and, as far as the hunter is concerned, out of mind. As the saying goes, before one can broach beauty, one must suffer some degree of destruction. 

Rook steps down from the ladder and sets the tray of cosmetics on the gold-and-white satin chair. He lifts his hands, fingers forming the borders of a rectangle to frame you in his own portrait. At long last, the headless mount has its head and the pyramid of trophies is complete. There’s a crooked smile sewn into features expertly stitched to finalize beguiling taxidermy. 

With a covert grin, Rook peers through his fingers at your head situated at the very tip of a tragic triangle.

“After all, prey are the prettiest when they’re dyed scarlet.”

[spacefrontier]

Images from the Apollo 15 Stand-up Extra-Vehicular Activity. July 30, 1971.

Two hours after the landing of Apollo 15, Commander Dave Scott and Lunar Module Pilot Jim Irwin depressurized Lunar Module Falcon and removed the top hatch and docking mechanism. Scott then stood on the ascent engine cover and surveyed their landing site ahead of their first seven hour extra-vehicular activity, EVA-1.

Scott took a 22-picture stereo panorama of the area, and then photographed targets of interest with a 500mm telephoto lens. Mission planners were concerned that the site was covered in large boulders that would make the area difficult to navigate with the Lunar Roving Vehicle, but Scott was able to confirm that there was nothing bigger than 6 to 8 inches near the LM.

30 minutes after opening the hatch, Scott re-entered, the hatch was closed, and Falcon was re-pressurized. The crew then entered a sleep period to rest up ahead of EVA-1.

Image 1: Apollo 15 landing site, with Bennett Hill in the distance. Note the LM Rendezvous Radar Antenna.

Image 2: Mons Hadley Delta, Silver Spur in the background.

Image 3: Telephoto image of Silver Spur.

Project Apollo Archive

[brideofmbappe]

Lace and Lens || Kylian Mbappé

Kylian Mbappé x reader

As the soft glow of the moonlight seeped through the curtains, you found yourself in the cozy cocoon of Kylian's arms. The night had been filled with laughter, shared secrets, and a delicious dinner. Now, you both lay in your shared bedroom, a sanctuary of comfort and love.

In the dimly lit room, you couldn't help but feel a tingling excitement bubbling inside you. You turned to Kylian, your heart racing. "Kylian, I have something for you," you whispered, reaching over to your nightstand.

Kylian, his eyes filled with curiosity, propped himself up on one elbow. "What is it, mon amour?"

With a sly grin, you pulled out a beautifully wrapped gift box. "Close your eyes," you instructed, handing it to him. He chuckled and obediently shut his eyes.

You took a deep breath, your anticipation building, and then carefully placed the box in his hands. "You can open them now," you whispered.

Kylian's eyes fluttered open, revealing a look of surprise and delight as he gazed at the lingerie set nestled inside. The fabric was soft, adorned with delicate lace . You knew he would appreciate it.

"Wow," Kylian breathed, his fingers gently tracing the lace. "These are stunning, love. Did you get them for me, or...?" he trailed off, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled. "Well, they're for both of us. I thought we could have a night in, just the two of us."

His smile widened as he leaned over to plant a soft kiss on your lips. "Fuck you're amazing, you know that?"

With a blush creeping up your cheeks, you replied with a giggle.

Kylian's fingers lingered on the lace, and he couldn't resist running them along the intricate patterns. "I can't wait to see you in these," he murmured, his voice heavy with desire.

The atmosphere in the room became electric as you stood up and began to undress. Kylian watched with rapt attention, his gaze fixed on you as you moved. When you were finally dressed, you turned to him, feeling a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you. "Mon dieu, you look so sexy," he exclaimed, his voice low and husky.

You grinned, your confidence growing. "Well, I did buy these for you, after all. What do you think?"

Kylian's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "I think it's so sexy on you." He reached for his camera on the nightstand and held it up. "Would you mind if I took a few pictures baby?"

You blushed furiously but nodded. "Sure, but no posting them anywhere!"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, these are just for us."

As Kylian snapped pictures of you in the lingerie, he couldn't resist giving you playful instructions. "Turn around slowly," he suggested, "and give me your best pose."

You complied, feeling a little self-conscious but also exhilarated by his attention. "Like this?"

Kylian grinned, clicking away. "Perfect! Now, flip your hair over your shoulder and give me a sultry look."

You laughed, tossing your hair and trying to look as alluring as possible. Kylian continued to snap photos, his admiration evident in every shot.

author's note: feel free to request 😊

[colleybri]

I just watched Andor episode 11 again to grab some screenshots, and of course I ended up getting absorbed. Noticed for the first time how the camera lingers mercilessly long and hard on the characters’ faces. And very often: faces full of emotional pain. Incredible acting on display for this.

Shedding a single tear? Yep. Here’s poor tortured Bix:

Mon facing the reality of the sacrifice of her daughter to an arranged marriage. A single tear finally leaks out:

Cassian doesn’t cry when he hears of Maarva’s death but you can see the numb shock that is so much more realistic.

And just to add to the pain and misery… this absolute genius shot which doesn’t make a lot of sense at first:

And then it cuts to this…

… and we realise that this is a point of view shot from B2EMO. It’s like looking through a lens with water distorting it.

So, the implication is clear: Bee is crying for Maarva.

The tears of a droid. Oh my heart.

[trailedstar]

CLANDESTINE TEARS

NEUVILLETTE x READER . CONTENT WARNING , angst to comfort, usage of french petnames ( requested ), "self"-indulgent ( gift for a mutual ), gn reader ( no referring pronouns ) — wc 998

when the days were sunny and the clouds hid themselves amongst the other regions, you could vividly remember the streets full of life - children chasing each other and adults conversing about their golden careers. it was… the ideal image of Fontaine. no crime, a lawful land with a protective leader.

so, why did you find yourself here - the beach’s shore, feet digging into the pellets of sand, and your hands desperately clawing at your chest as if you could pull your heart right out?

raindroplets fell softly on the tip of your nose, sliding down as soon as they came in contact with your cold skin. your eyes were fixated on the sky, the clouds, dark and brooding and the moon's beams caressing your figure. the murky waters of the lingering sea brushed up against the tips of your shoes, quickly receding into the small side of the shoreline.

your vision became splotchy and blurry, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. the ocean reflected like sapphires in your eyes, the alluring beauty of a serpent to drag one down into the ocean depths. the sunny days had long departed, a sweet summer melody buried in the muddy dirt of Fontaine. the dreary days grew longer as the rain collected upon the surface of the incandescent waters.

even the lively streets lacked their usual liveliness, the heavy downpour causing civilians to flee as if it were falling daggers. the lens of your glasses fogged up as droplets cascaded down, plopping onto the sandy land below.

on days such as these, you could only pray to the divine for a way to miraculously turn back time… but alas, the gods’ favor didn’t fall upon just anyone.

the day had ended and you needed to return home, a moment you were dreading. you had impulsively lashed out, causing inexplicable damage to your beloved, Neuvillette. perhaps he would understand. however, it wasn’t the bait you wished to put out.

as you walked the desolate streets, your feet tapped against the puddle-ridden, cobblestone pathways. the intricate stonework was the sole thing distracting you from your thoughts, not even the harsh rain could pull you out of your self-hatred. it was an abnormal feeling - the touch of a lover that remained so gentle even after an awful argument. yet, you had turned away - afraid to face the moment.

“hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!!”

you halted, your head whipping around to meet the person of the voice. your wet hair clung to your cheeks, mouth agape as you panted from your shock.

your wide eyes met with big round ones, a child’s. their clothing was soaking wet, sticking to their skin as if it were part of it. you could only assume it was your fault - your fault the child was soaked due to rain you had caused.

unable to keep watching, you turned back around and began speedwalking home. it was as if your life was a paradox, you at the center of it - the one who caused the very thing happening. you pushed the first domino, the rest following suit as one would. it was utterly wretched.

pointed ears visibly perked up at the door softly shutting. soft rustling echoed through the silent house, causing Neuvillette’s head to tilt to peer out the doorway. you attempted to remain as silent as possible.

“Mon trésor, is that you?” Neuvillette’s soft, yet undeniably stern voice. his gloved hands fidgeted together, his demeanor more tense than ever. he feared he had been too overbearing that morning. he accidentally said something incredibly insensitive and had felt guilty.

“____?” he attempted to call out against, more hesitant in his tone. simply hearing his angelic voice almost made you want to run into his arms and bask in his heavenly presence. but… you couldn’t. you didn’t want to.

“…” you remained silent, the walls being your witness to the anxiety rushing through your body.

“I would like to chat, mon ange..” his voice echoed in your head, mind spiraling downwards as every possibility seemed to be endlessly running around like a train.

“About this morning… I presume?” you let out a sigh, shoulders slumping as you refused to glance at his face.

“Yes,” Neuvillette whispered, his hands no longer fidgeting together as they had done earlier. it felt as if his ribcage was crushing inwards like a venus flytrap catching its prey.

“Look, I didn’t mean to project-” you began, words slurring together as you spoke at a fast pace - justification trying to find its way through.

“No, please don’t apologize. It was my mistake.”

“Don’t even, I take full responsibility. I shouldn’t have dumped my emotions on you,” you whispered in a croaky tone, leg bouncing from the fear ringing through you. you knew he wouldn’t hate you. but could he start at that moment?

“Fleurette… when I decided to start this relationship, I was well aware of what I would be getting into. While I am unable to fully understand all these emotions, it won't stop me from attempting to.” Neuvillette explained without hesitation, his honeyed voice no longer holding the same sternness it did in the courtroom. right now, he was your concerned lover. he didn’t need to be concerned with the laws of how he should act.

“Ma lumière…” oh, that sweet nickname sent a wave of heat down Neuvillette’s spine, a show of embarrassment? he was unfamiliar with it, but it felt… nice.

a twinkle akin to the starry night skies glimmered in Neuvillette’s eyes, almost as if he fell in love all over again.

“Perhaps, we can explore these foreign emotions together?” Neuvillette offered his hand hesitating by hovering over your hand. after a moment of thought, he placed his hand down and let his fingers brush against your skin.

“I’d… like that.” you choked out, your free hand shakily brushing away the tears. you felt stupid for crying, but perhaps it wasn’t so bad if Neuvillette was by your side.

trailedstar. do not plagarise, repost, or translate without my permission.

[boobo13cambridge]

Ay, Ay, Captain | Kylian Mbappé

Revised: 2023/03/27

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Kinks: big cock, praise, body worship, nippleplay, strength kink, size kink, spanking,  pussy spanking, dirty talk, sexy possessiveness, multiple orgasms (f. & m.receiving), creampies, squirting, overstimulation, cockwarming. 

Wordcount: 2.8k

A/N: Hello, everyone! This is the first ever smut I’ve ever published. Feel free to give me any sort of constructive criticism. This one is very smut heavy because I’ve been holding these ideas in my head for too long and just kinda wanted to blurt it all out 😅. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

Y/N waited excitedly in the stands with Kylian’s family, eager for the match to begin. She could feel the buzz of anticipation in the air as fans of both teams started chanting and cheering. The atmosphere in Stade Bollaert-Delelis was electric, with the energy of thousands of passionate supporters filling the stadium. Y/N couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the bustling stadium. Although the trumpets and drums were starting to give her a headache, the joy of watching Kylian lead the team out onto the field as captain overrode any discomfort. It was a chilly night, with the cold wind whipping her hair and freezing her cheeks, but she was glad for the extra layers she was wearing and the hand warmers Fayza had handed to her on the way to Lens.

“Est-ce que tu as toujours froid, ma cocotte?” Y/N heard Fayza ask her. ("Are you still cold, my dear?")

“Pas tant. Merci pour les réchauffe-mains.” ("Not really. Thank you for the hand warmers.")

“De rien, ma chère,” Fayza smiled, giving her a side hug. Just as Y/N was getting impatient, she saw the players coming out onto the field. She cheered with all her heart, filled with immense pride when she saw Kylian leading PSG onto the field with the yellow captain’s armband. The stadium erupted with cheers and chants as the match began. The energy in the air was palpable as the crowd roared with each move the players made. As the match progressed, Y/N's heart raced with every goal Kylian scored. The stadium was alive with excitement as the star captain made history, scoring five goals and breaking records. Y/N couldn't contain her pride and joy as she watched her boyfriend lead his team to victory. She found herself shifting in her seat, pressing her thighs together, trying to ignore the sudden dampness between them caused by the excitement of the game. She prayed that Kylian's mom didn't notice her fidgeting amidst the electrifying atmosphere of the stadium.

After the game, she waited for her boyfriend near the locker room, absentmindedly playing with the ring on her pinkie. Hearing the deep cheers and laughter coming from down the corridor, she straightened up, feeling her heart beat faster. As soon as she saw Kylian turn the corner, still dressed in his kit, she launched herself at him, and he barely caught her as she peppered his face with kisses, much to the amusement of the other players. She heard some whistles but ignored them as Kylian whispered in her ear with his deep voice, “Mmm, quelqu’un est content de me voir.” ("Mmm, someone's happy to see me")

“Je suis tellement fière de toi, bébé”, she said, holding his face between her hands and planting a soft kiss on his lips. He returned the kiss, trying to deepen it when he heard Sergio scream, “Oy! Get a room.” Cheeks red-hot, Y/N let go of Kylian. Amused, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead. He pulled back and looked at her with soft eyes. “Ils sont tous pour toi, mon amour.” She tilted her head, looking at him questioningly. “Les buts, bébé, je les marque pour toi,” he clarified. 

("They're all for you, my love."

"The goals, baby, I score them for you.")

Feeling shy, she lightly kissed his rough cheek. “T’es trop mignon, Kyky.” ("You're so cute, Kyky.") Scoffing, her boyfriend looked at her, one of his hands tangling in her hair and the other slowly sliding down to grab her ass. “Mignon? Tu penses que je suis mignon?” He gave her a smouldering look while she felt her breath deepen. ("Cute? You think I'm cute?")

She rested her two palms on her chest, leaning into him slowly, when all of a sudden someone shouted Kylian’s name from the locker room. Kylian let out an annoyed groan when he saw it was Galtier calling him. Patting him on the chest with a loving smile, she reassured him. “Go celebrate with your teammates, bébé. I’ll see you at home.” Sighing in defeat, he kissed her one last time on the lips, and with a quick slap on her ass, let her go after making her promise to reach home safely.

Y/N steps into the bathroom and turns on the hot water, letting the steam engulf her. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine from her soap. She lathers up her washcloth, working up a rich lather, and starts to scrub every inch of her body. She takes special care to clean every crevice, knowing that Kylian appreciates her attention to detail. She rinses off the soap and reaches for her exfoliating scrub, using it to slough away any dead skin cells. She revels in the feeling of smooth, silky skin, knowing it will feel heavenly under the touch of Kylian's hands.

After the shower, Y/N takes her time applying her favourite lotion, enjoying the way it leaves her skin feeling soft and supple. She walks over to her closet and takes out Kylian's favourite lingerie set, the red lace delicate against her skin. She slips into the matching silk robe, feeling luxurious and sexy. She walks over to the dresser, where she lights a few candles, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere in their shared bedroom.

As she hears Kylian's footsteps coming up the stairs, her heart starts racing with anticipation. She bites her lip, feeling the dampness between her thighs. She knows that Kylian will appreciate the effort she has put in, and she can't wait to see his reaction. She lies down on the bed, propped up on one elbow, waiting for him to enter.

As he walks in, he stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locked on her. She sees his gaze travel down her body, taking in every inch. She can feel the heat of his gaze on her skin, and it sends shivers down her spine. She gives him a coy smile and asks, "Do you like what you see?" 

Kylian shoots her a lustful look and stalks toward her like a predator, his eyes smoldering with desire. He wraps his hand around her neck and lightly squeezes, causing her to whimper. "Oh bébé, I love what I see. Look at you dressed up so pretty for me, hmm." He leans down and softly traces her lower lip with his tongue. Y/N feels a wave of pleasure wash over her as she lets out a soft moan, wanting him to take her, to claim her as his own.

Y/N lets out a small whine. "Please... don’t tease..." Smirking, he pulls back and clicks his tongue. "You're mine tonight, mon amour. You'll only take what I give you, compris?" Looking into his eyes, she can see the unspoken question in them. Oh God, high off the victory against Pays de Cassel, he is in one of those moods. Feeling her mouth dry, she quickly gulps and nods her head, willing to play his game.

Giving her a quick peck on the forehead, he unwraps his hand from her neck and pulls on the string tying her robe together. He lets out the deepest groan, seeing her dressed in his favorite lingerie. He slides the robe from her shoulders and places sloppy kisses from her right shoulder all the way to her neck. Y/N places her hand at the back of his head and moans his name. Kylian feels himself harden as his hands roam her body, squeezing her hips and waist, finally settling down on her ass and giving it a harsh squeeze.

Y/N feels her panties getting completely soaked as she lets out the prettiest whines, feeling the pleasure run through her body as Kylian leaves a trail of hickeys on her neck. She knows it's going to be such a hassle covering them up before leaving for work the day after tomorrow, but she can't be bothered to stop him as it feels so good. Pulling back, her boyfriend turns them around so he sits on the bed with her between his legs. He pulls her close and trails kisses up her stomach, groaning, "Putain, bébé. You're so fuckin' beautiful." She throws her head back and presses his face closer to her body. 

Kylian trails his finger delicately along the band of her panties and snaps it. The slight pinch brings some sense back into her as she lowers herself to her knees. "Bébé, what are you doing?" Kylian asks, frowning. "You played so well today, Kyky. I want to do this for you, please," she looks at him with big eyes, and as usual, he can never say no to her. He feels himself harden even more at the sight of her with her bitten lips and neck filled with hickeys he placed himself.

Nodding, he widens his legs a little bit more so she can kneel comfortably between them. "Take my cock out, princesse." His order sends a shiver down her spine as she carefully takes him out of his grey sweatpants. He lifts himself up a little to help her. Pulling his member out, she presses her thighs together as she feels her pussy clenching emptily, seeing it look so hard and swollen, the tip already leaking with beads of precum.

"Vas-y, bébé. Lick the tip," he commands, and she eagerly complies, wanting nothing more than to please her man after seeing him play such an amazing game. She kisses the tip of his cock and slowly licks it, tasting his slightly salty precum. Y/N hears him groan above and feels his hand tangle in her long hair. "Fuck, bébé." Wanting to pleasure him even more, she licks him from the base of his cock all the way to his tip while fondling his heavy balls. 

Kylian lets out the prettiest moans she's ever heard, which boosts her ego. "Put me in your mouth, mon amour. I wanna feel your mouth." Taking a deep breath, Y/N takes him into her mouth while sucking in her cheeks so she doesn't bite him with her teeth. "Agh, putain de merde, bébé. Tu me rends fou," he exclaims, looking down at her. ("Agh, fucking shit, baby. You're driving me insane.")

The sight alone almost makes him lose his mind. There she is, the love of his life, looking like the filthiest angel with his cock stuffed in her mouth and saliva dripping down her chin. Wanting to see his girl choke on his dick, he gently pushes her head forward, and the feeling of his big cock in her tight throat makes his eyes roll back in pleasure.

Y/N tries to breathe from her nose as he thrust down her throat. She can feel tears streaming down her eyes as he increases his pace. Just as he feels his stomach tightening, Kylian pulls her off his cock, not wanting to cum unless he’s deep in her pussy. Gathering his breath, he quickly pulls her off the floor and onto his lap, her pantie-clad pussy immediately settling over his hard, wet cock, her knees on either side of his body. Y/N whimpers as Kylian takes in the sight of her teary eyes and swollen mouth. “Je t’aime, princesse”, he whispers, kissing her hard on the mouth, slipping his hot wet tongue into her mouth as he unclasps her bra. 

He immediately fondles her breast and pinches her nipples causing them to harden even more as she lets out the most cock-hardening moans. Holy fuck, Kylian feels like his gonna burst. Her sounds were driving him crazy as he gently rocked her against his cock. He breaks away from their kisses and a string of saliva follows his actions, as he trails kisses down her chest and envelops one of her nipples in his warm mouth. Y/N lets out a strangled moan and presses on the back of his head so he can take more of her tit in his mouth. She was so wet. She needed him inside her now. “Please, Kyky. I want you inside me. I’m so wet”, she begged desperately. Feeling a sting her ass, she felt Kylian leave her breast and wrap a strong hand around her throat. “What did I tell you, bébé?”  She was so horny, she could barely string two words together “I…I.. don’t know.” 

Kylian looked at her in mock sympathy “Aww, is my princess so desperate, she can’t remember, hmm?”

“Kyy…, s’il vous plaît…”

Shaking his head, he trails the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her throat down her stomach, cupping her pussy through her thong. She was so wet, she knew he could feel it. “I told you’ll only take what I give you, n’est-ce pas?” He says spanking her pussy. She squirms in his hold desperate for any kind of friction, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Look at this pussy, bébé. So wet for me.” With one last spank, he quickly pushes her panties aside and slips in two fingers. “Kylian!” she moans throwing her head back at the sudden intrusion. “Take it, princesse” He thumbs her clit and attaches his mouth to her other nipple. She feels her stomach tighten as her pussy flutters nonstop around his fingers. “Fuck…Ky..I’m gonna cum…”

She immediately regrets saying anything as he pulls his fingers out. "No! Why did you stop?" she whines at him, rocking her hips against him to chase her denied orgasm. Kylian stills her and gets up with her legs wrapped around his lean waist. "Don't be such a spoiled brat, bébé. You cum only with my cock inside you." She looks into his dark eyes and pouts at this unfairness. At that moment, Kylian swears he fell just a little bit harder for her. He throws her on the bed and takes off his sweater, followed by his sweatpants and boxers. The sight of his delicious physique causes another rush of wetness to leave her pussy. 

As Kylian strides towards their bed, Y/N can't help but admire his chiseled physique. The way his muscles ripple with each movement, his defined abs and the veins that run along his biceps, all add to his irresistible charm. And then there are his thighs - thick, powerful, and capable of propelling him forward with lightning speed on the pitch. 

He crawls up the bed and grabs her ankle, trailing kisses up her smooth legs. He stops right where she needs him the most and blows hot air on her leaking core. Y/N whimpers as he licks her over her panties. Wanting to taste her, he takes off her panties and immediately sucks on her clit, causing her to arch her back and grip the sheets. Y/N can't stop moaning and squirming, causing Kylian to clamp an arm around her stomach to pin her. She feels the familiar ball of pleasure building inside her as Kylian inserts a finger in her wet pussy. 

Just as she's about to let go, he pulls away. "Ky! Please, please, I need to cum." Taking pity on her, Kylian slowly climbs up her body and places his arms at either side of her head, pecking her lips and tear-stained cheeks. "Shh, be patient, bébé. I'll give you everything you need, oui? No need to beg me, princesse. You're doing so well. Spread your legs for me, mon ange."

Y/N widens her legs to accommodate his large body and feels the large head of his cock sliding through her lips as he taps her clit with the tip of his cock. She feels like she’s about to lose her mind with his teasing. Just as she’s about to protest, he shoves his cock inside her swollen pussy, the wetness making him glide in easily. Inch by inch, she feels him stretch her, her pussy clamping down on him, making her release the shakiest moans. God, his cock was always too big for her. Kylian buries his head between her neck and growls, “Fuck, that’s it bébé.” He slowly bottoms out, “pussy always so fucking tight for me.” He slowly thrusts into her.

“Ky… Kylian”, you let out.

“Oui, bébé?”

“You’re so… so big… fuck I can’t…”

Pulling back from her neck, he slowly lifts her ass to deepen the angle. "You can take it, bébé. You're my girl, aren't you?" Y/N desperately holds onto his biceps as he quickens his thrusts. "Yes, Ky, I'm yours," she cries out. Keeping his cock still inside her, Kylian pulls back and grabs her legs, practically bending her in half. This angle allows him to find her G-spot, which causes her to scream, "I'm gonna cum! Fuck, Kylian!" She feels the walls of her pussy frantically clamping down on him. The wet sounds of their brutal fucking fill the room as Kylian increases his pace and rubs her clit to give her the orgasm he denied her twice. "Cum on my cock, bébé. I wanna feel you soak my cock." 

As Kylian continues to pound into her, Y/N can't help but admire him. His broad shoulders and defined chest glisten with sweat, and his abs ripple with each movement. She runs her hands over his biceps, feeling the strength and power beneath his skin. But it's his face that truly captivates her - the way his dark eyes look down at her with such intensity and passion, the way his lips curve into a smirk as he brings her closer to the edge. 

Just like that, the knot in her stomach releases as she writhes and trembles underneath him. His balls continue to slap her ass as his strong, thick thighs bruise her soft skin. He fucks her through her orgasm, the constant pounding to her G-spot causing her to cry out due to the overstimulation.

"Ky, please, I'm so sensitive," she wails.

"You were meant for this, bébé," he spits, leaning down to slot his mouth over hers, causing him to slide even deeper. "So fucking take it."

She feels a weird pressure building inside of her, and she tries to warn him, but it explodes. There's ringing in her ears, and white-hot pleasure sears through her body. All she hears is Kylian in the background, "Ah, putain. You squirted, bébé. Fuck, that's it. I'm gonna cum. Shit." She sobs as her pussy feels overstimulated. She desperately claws at his back. "Ky, please, it's too much."

"Just a little bit more, bébé. I'm almost there," he groans.

After three more strokes, Kylian comes inside her pussy, painting her walls with his hot cum. This triggers a mini-orgasm from Y/N, her pussy milking his cock of every last drop. "There we go, bébé. I want that pussy to milk every drop of my cum,” he moans in her ear.

Gently lowering her legs, Kylian rolls over with care so as not to crush her delicate form, still keeping his softening member deep inside her. Their labored breaths echo through the room as he tenderly strokes her hair, gazing into her eyes with a look of pure adoration. "Ma princesse, are you alright?" he asks, his heart racing beneath her ear. She can feel the love radiating off him, and despite her exhaustion, she feels a sense of warmth and comfort envelop her.

"Tu m'as tuée, Kyks, sérieusement", ("You truly killed me, Kyks") Y/N whispers, struggling to catch her breath. Chuckling, Kylian presses a soft kiss on the crown of her head, holding her close to his chest. "Sleep princesse, I’ll take care of you," he murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "Je t'aime."

Exhausted and on the brink of slumber, Y/N presses her lips to his chest and murmurs, "Je t'aime plus, tête de noisette." Kylian laughs softly and playfully spanks her, relishing the feel of her warm body against his. As her breathing gradually evens out, he gazes out of the window at the glittering lights of Paris, his heart full of contentment. Just a few weeks ago, he had suffered a crushing loss at the World Cup, but now, with the love of his life in his arms and a record-breaking victory under his belt, he feels at peace. ("I love you more, hazelnut head." )

[luxyue]

knife boots — part vi.

xiao x reader, figure skating au

masterlist | previous

➥ NEW VOCAB ❝ lutz ❞ a toe jump, taking off from a backward outside edge, and landing on the backward outside edge of the opposite foot.

vi. through his lens

[2 YEARS AGO: GRAND PRIX FINAL, WOMEN’S FREE SKATE]

SCORES AFTER WOMEN’S SHORT PROGRAM:

Y/N (SNE) | 81.35

SHENHE (LIY) | 73.25

AYAKA (INA) | 70.59

EULA (MON) | 67.59

GANYU (LIY) | 66.72

FURINA (FON) | 64.78

...

Xiao’s gaze floated around the arena. Xianyun and Zhongli sat at the kiss-and-cry with Shenhe, awaiting her scores. The next and final skater entered the ice, starting her warm-up.

A quick look at the short program standings told him that Shenhe had a nice margin between herself and the skater in third place after her skate yesterday. As expected of Zhongli and Xianyun’s student. After her clean free skate, she could definitely stay ahead. But there was still one skater left in this event, and her eight-point lead from the short program could easily put her in first place, even with a few minor mistakes.

Speaking of which, the final skater was still warming up with some swizzles and crossovers. She certainly didn’t look special. Anything but that, really. Xiao could spot the tremble in her knees even from his spot at the very top of the stands. She looked nervous and unsure of herself, but he supposed that was to be expected. It was her first Grand Prix Final, after all. But even he knew that she had to have an impressive set of jumps in her arsenal.

Xiao had heard of the girl that landed a triple axel during the women’s short program yesterday. It was impossible not to, considering it was the hottest topic among all the skaters at his hotel. In fact, he couldn’t stop hearing about it. First, during breakfast, from a few of the Mondstadter junior skaters that had finished their events already and were sticking around to watch the seniors compete. Then again, during lunch, from two Inazuman coaches discussing the best performances of the day. Apparently, they had actually coached the girl herself before. At dinner, the triple axel girl was mentioned yet again, this time by his own teammates. Shenhe had come in second after the short program yesterday, but she was still eight points behind the girl who was in first. With no triple axel or quads, she was steadily coming to terms with the fact she probably would not be taking home the title of GPF Champion.

This better be good, thought Xiao, considering that he couldn’t go a single meal without overhearing discussions about this girl. There were even talks that she would attempt a quad lutz in the free skate.

“And the scores, please, for Shenhe of Liyue. Her free skate score is 132.11, making her total score 215.76. She is currently in first place!”

Not bad, he thought. But would it be enough?

“Representing Snezhnaya, please welcome Y/N L/N!”

Xiao turned his attention back to the ice. Y/N circled back around and presented towards the judges. She then hit her starting pose, one foot behind the other, her toepick pressed into the ice while her arms were gracefully flexed behind her back.

He watched as Y/N’s demeanor changed with the flick of a switch. As her music began to play, any hint of her anxiety seemed to melt away as she began her program, setting the atmosphere for what was to come.

Just from her first crossovers, he could tell she was good. Sure, Snezhnayan skaters were always praised for being some of the best of the best. But her? She gained speed almost immediately, naturally covering all of the ice with her movements. Not only that, her edge quality was simply divine.

Xiao followed her movements as she prepared for her first jump. As she did a three-turn across the shorter end of the ice, bending her knees softly before launching into the air with no trouble at all, Xiao knew at once that she would land that triple salchow.

But she didn’t.

It wasn’t a triple, after all—she landed a quad. A quad salchow. If Xiao remembered correctly, that jump had only been landed a limited amount of times within the last decade or so.

She’s…..incredible.

Xiao never watches competitions, especially not the night before his own. But this? He’s secretly thanking the archons that Zhongli forced him out of his hotel room to support his teammates.

He watches her breeze through her triple jumps and combinations with ease, and her spins looked pretty solid. Although he had a few things to say about her toe jump technique, her edge jumps were nothing short of beautiful.

Entering the second half of the program, he figured most of the difficult elements were finished, unless she was going to attempt another triple axel. He watched as she turned backwards and skated towards a corner of the ice, ready to launch into a lutz.

Quad lutz. Apparently the rumors were right, and Xiao was wrong.

Skaters receive a ten-percent bonus for elements completed in the second half of a program to account for fatigue. Some could choose to backload their difficult jumps in order to maximize points, but it was also risky to do so, especially on tired legs, which is why many opted not to. She, apparently, did not care, because Xiao’s train of thought was broken as she completed her final jump—a triple axel.

She started on her final spin, but he didn’t have to stick around to know that she had definitely won the competition. And yet, he stayed anyway. It was a night of firsts for him.

He was right, of course. With a free skate score of 160.41 and a combined score of 241.49, she set a new record and finished a whopping 26 points ahead of Shenhe, earning her first place and the title of women’s singles Grand Prix Final champion.

As he got up to leave the arena and head back to the hotel, he couldn’t help but think to himself—

Wow. I need to up my game for tomorrow.

…

Xiao won his event, of course. One could not expect anything less from him.

“…..I wasn’t aware that you wanted to switch the quad lutz and quad flip to the second half,” spoke Zhongli, who stared at him questioningly.

“It doesn’t matter. I knew I could land them both, I just wanted to see how it could affect my score,” Xiao responded, brushing it off.

“That wasn’t my concern. Just don’t be so afraid to discuss these matters with me next time. You did well, I’m very proud of you, Xiao,” said Zhongli, a soft smile gracing his face.

Although he didn’t show it, Xiao was beaming with pride on the inside. But instead he said, “…..Thanks. Although I know my artistry was lacking in the second half—I started to neglect my presentation skills because I was too focused on the jumps.”

Zhongli frowned. “I felt that it was fine—fatigue is normal, and you did well regardless. Your component scores reflected that. Honestly, Xiao, you always seem to find more critiques about yourself than I do.”

“But I—”

“You’re the Grand Prix Final champion. You still have over a month before nationals, and while I hate to put it this way…..you don’t have much competition there. Rest, Xiao—take some time off for yourself. I don’t want to see you at the rink for at least a week after we get back to Liyue.”

“I—fine. But just this once.”

He sighed. “That’s good enough for me, I suppose. You should go—explore the town. Meet some other skaters. A lot of the juniors seemed to be big fans of yours. Make some friends before the exhibition and banquet.”

Zhongli was referring to the exhibition performances and closing banquet that always took place at the end of these kinds of events. Xiao would love to skip out, of course, but it wouldn’t reflect well on his nation or his teammates, so he had to oblige.

“…..Alright. I’ll see you at the airport.”

He walked off without another word.

…

He should’ve skipped the exhibition. He was dragged into the group dance performances, and let’s just say he did not enjoy it one single bit.

Although, he had to admit, Y/N L/N put on a good show. He watched her solo, doing a fun performance to a trending pop song, and it seemed like she was every bit as natural of a performer as she was a naturally elegant skater. She seemed happy, much unlike the way she was two days ago right before her free skate.

That’s why he found it odd when he overheard her and Tartaglia, otherwise known as Childe, engaging in a heated conversation outside the locker rooms. Although no match for him, he had competed against Childe for a few seasons, although he wasn’t competing this season for an unknown reason. Instead, it seemed that he had taken it upon himself to be a part of Y/N’s coaching team, given that he had accompanied her at the kiss-and-cry along with Arlecchino, a well-known coach with the Harbingers.

“What do you mean, they ‘don’t want me to attend’ the banquet?” she said with exasperation. Childe hushed her, looking around for potential eavesdroppers.

“I don’t know—I think Arlecchino told them you were actually having fun, and I bet they don’t want you actually socializing with too many other skaters right now.”

Y/N didn’t seem to be satisfied with his answer. “Why? It’s not like they ever stopped you. I already won for them, it doesn’t matter if I—”

“Quiet, Y/N, we don’t want someone listening. And it does matter. To them, you’re still too young, too impressionable. They can’t risk you telling—”

“Psh. What, that they make me—”

“Shh—Y/N. Not. Here. I’ll try to convince them to let you go to the banquet, but keep a low profile for now, okay? Not because I don’t want you to have fun, but because it’s for your own good.” He lead her through the other side of the hall way and they headed for the exit of the building.

What the hell was that?

[songhunter]

trans allegory in mystic fragrance and forbidden rain

aka: the essay no one asked for

Content warnings for: Discussions of homophobia and transphobia, and brief mentions of suicide.

If you guys have any other comments on this topic (especially KnightsPs, I'm an UNDEADP so I'm less familiar with their lore) please comment or rb or drop an ask or anything! I love talking. It's also been a hot minute (3 or 4 years) since I last took an English class so my analysis is a little rusty.

Part 1: UNDEAD's "Monster" and Queerness

Every UNDEAD song (with one exception) has the same premise — the singers are the impure, immoral monsters who are singing to a pure, human audience. There are two genres of UNDEAD song:

“I’m a monster seducing you into the darkness, give into your desires because I know that secretly you want it too” — Immoral World, Savage Love Affair, etc.

“I’m a monster and I’m so badass” — Darkness 4, Nightless World, etc.

Darkness 4 lyrics, translation by Shirayukin on Fandom wiki.

The “monster” in UNDEAD’s music is shorthand for anyone that exists outside of a pure society. By joining the monsters, you become tainted and can't return to society, but that’s the only way you can possibly live as your authentic self. In this way, the "darkness" is a safe space that these monsters have created for themselves.

This is, of course, a reference to Rei and how he feels ostracized from society -- the whole reason why Koga began UNDEAD was as a message to Rei that if Rei felt like a monster, he shouldn't roll over and die, but live with them as an undead. However, the concept of the queer monster is incredibly applicable imo. Historically, lots of villains in horror media were queer-coded as a way of eliciting disgust or a fear response, as a way of making its villain seem strange and, well, queer. (Oh, no! Look at all these horrible people ruining life for the law-abiding families!) The link between queerness and horror has been analyzed to death.

But queer people also love the misunderstood monster who's shunned by "proper" society. The gothic novels that originated the horror genre in the 1800s, like Dracula or the Picture of Dorian Grey, were written by queer authors and/or contained scores of queer themes. Do I need to go into why werewolves, shapeshifters who had to go deep into the woods to hide their wolf form, can be read as queer? Do I need to go into why Frankenstein, someone abandoned by his own creator and shunned by society by the nature of his existence alone (something out of his control), can be read as queer? Do I really need to go into why the modern-day vampire is queer? Vampires? Of course queer people will love these monsters, because they see themselves in the monsters, more so than the victims. (Also, nothing more in line with the queer experience than seeing a monster and going “ngl they're kinda hot actually.”)

In summary: It's very easy to read UNDEAD songs and UNDEAD's conceptualization of the "monster" through a queer lens. The monster is queer, and the monster welcomes you into the darkness and invites you to also give into your desire to live freely.

Immoral World lyrics, translation by Mandy on Fandom wiki.

Also, shout out the love you tried to hide, huh? Show me your truth? Show me your pride?

Dude.

Dude.

Sidenote: The one exception to this “monster” theme is of course the elephant in the room, Sustain Memories. I think it plays well into UNDEAD’s image — at least in !-era, Rei, Adonis, and Koga have always been the monsters, while Kaoru is the human that joined them (see: their Halloween costumes in !-era). So Kaoru doesn’t sing of monsters, he sings of a human love. There's also something to be said about Kaoru being the one member of UNDEAD who tried so desperately to appear cishet and experience a "normal" love in !-era. But also, it's a wedding song because the anime boys look cute when they sing about weddings.

Part 2: What about Forbidden Rain?

Here's the thing about UNDEAD's other monster songs -- they're always proud of being monsters. They're not ashamed, and they want the audience to join them in their freedom.

Forbidden Rain lyrics, translation by @/snaketaper on Twitter.

On the other hand, the singer in Forbidden Rain sees themselves as a "beast" who can never be forgiven, someone who's slowly poisoning their pure lover. They love them so much that they apparently have to let go of them, for their own sake. It's the first song that actually contains references to genuine love (usually UNDEAD is just horny).

The song remains sort of ambiguous about the nature of the relationship between the singer and the audience. It's clear that the audience does actually care for the singer, since they do reach out a "gentle hand" that the singer can't take. But the singer says, "Let's end this thing that never even began" -- are they even together in the first place? Maybe it never began because they were scared of the "beast." Or maybe it never truly began because the relationship was built on a lie. They sing about a beast inside them that they have to hide, and says that their current self -- the one they show to the audience -- is a fake. And this is something that cannot be forgiven.

It's not hard to read this in the context of queerness. Maybe it's about a gay singer who doesn't want to reveal their feelings and tarnish a platonic relationship. Or maybe it's a trans singer who's wracked with guilt at keeping their identity under wraps and hasn't come out to their heterosexual lover, so they want to break off things before they come out and taint their previous relationship.

In Love & Beast, the "source material" behind Forbidden Rain, Inogari (Adonis' character) is soft-spoken, protective, and kind. He saves the main police character in the very first scene. He's an ambassador and a respected enough member of society that he's part of the Sakurayama (Rei's character) social club. He uses "watashi," which is even more polite than Adonis' "ore." He literally faints at the sight of blood. He's the picture of innocence and goodness and all that society approves of. But in a Jekyll and Hyde-like twist, he ends up secretly being the killer Beast. In the end, the Beast is finally caught when Inogari realizes the truth and chains himself to a wall so he can be caught by the police in an act of sacrifice.

Inogari is the picture of propriety, but he keeps the Beast repressed, and eventually this Beast destroys him. Even if you try your best to act as part of proper society, you'll never really fit in.

Silent Oath lyrics, translation by royalquintet on Fandom wiki.

Another note: Forbidden Rain has a lot of the same themes of self-sacrifice, repression, and pure, romantic love that Knights songs do. Knights, in game, is a much more traditional idol unit than UNDEAD is. Forbidden Rain thus attempts to align itself more closely with the socially acceptable Knights, but it's still an UNDEAD song at its core. The monster is inescapable.

Part 3: Mystic Fragrance and Trans Allegory

This thread by @/pretty5P on twitter (https://x.com/pretty5p/status/1625958198623539200?s=46&t=lm_x5Uw5f8pKXHUoLzYksw) is a really cool analysis on the perfume symbolism in the song and how it relates to Arashi's gender identity (go read it!!), but if you don’t want to give Elon Musk ad revenue, the gist of it is this: Odette is her "masculine" initial impression, the impression others have of her, and the impression that fades most quickly. Odile is her lasting "feminine" self and the true self that remains when the top notes fade away.

Over the course of the song, the singer (Odette/Odile) grows more and more tainted, going from a pure white dress to a multicolored rainbow dress to a pitch black dress. The final perfume note is desire, the desire to live as themselves, the desire to be with the person they love.

Mystic Fragrance lyrics, translation by KYM2020 on Fandom wiki.

While the song does focus on a pure romantic love, just like Knight's songs, the symbolism of wanting to be Odile is far more similar to UNDEAD's monster. The idea of a "hidden desire" lying in wait beneath pure feelings is explored in almost every song, as is the symbolism of a dress that gets tainted by desire:

Savage Love Affair lyrics, translation by Nina on Fandom wiki.

And just like UNDEAD songs, the "tainting" of the pure is never presented as a bad thing. Note the references to the moon in both -- it's only in the dead of night, in a midnight ballroom, that one can "spread their wings" and reveal their true self. The darkness, the space of monsters, is a safe space, and in the light of the truth-seeking moon the singer of Mystic Fragrance says that their audience is beautiful.

In the original Swan Lake ballet, Odette is a beautiful woman who falls in love with Prince Siegfried. She's cursed to transform into a swan in the daytime, a curse that can only be broken if someone who has never sworn their love to anyone swears their love to her (in other words, someone untainted). Unfortunately, the evil sorcerer who cursed her turns his daughter into Odile, the black swan who looks identical to Odette, and Siegfried mistakenly confesses his love to her. Knowing that the curse can never be broken, Odette throws herself into the lake rather than live the rest of her life as a swan, and Siegfried joins her.

Mystic Fragrance isn't tragic, however.

Part 4: Living your truth

The endings of Forbidden Rain and Mystic Fragrance are where they differ. Both of their source endings are tragic — Inogari is unable to control the Beast and shackles himself to a wall, waiting to be arrested. Odette and Siegfried leap into a lake and drown themselves, because the only way they can be together is in death. Forbidden Rain ends with the singer holding their loved one close to them one last time in the rain before they leave.

But Arashi rejects her source material because she chooses to embrace the monster. She becomes Odile. She decides to live her truth, and as the top notes and heart notes fade away, all that lingers is her true self. That's why Mystic Fragrance has a happy ending.

There's a lot of symbolism in the Mystic Fragrance music video with respect to the person who loved Arashi during the war era and who killed themselves. She spreads her arms like the wings of an angel and sings in front of a setpiece that looks like the cenotaph. Her outfit contains anemones, symbols of a lost love and grief (and, coincidentally, the flower that Adonis in greek myth turned into when he died). Her greatest regret was that that person couldn't love themselves the way Arashi now tries to love herself. In this way, Mystic Fragrance is like a message to that person -- live your truth.

[leekiings]

len-mon