#mystic messenger imagine

[distinguisheddingus]

Imagine how badly Zen would react finding out how Suit!Saeran treated you during the 8th day of Ray's route... pushing you to the ground, insulting you and leaving you starving. I'm so sure that he would explode.

He'd be like "Screw V, screw Seven, the intelligence and Jumin's security unit! I gotta save my Jagiya."

And he would literally blow up the entire Mint Eye, all by himself.

No one can treat his MC like that.

[xelasrecords]

Locus of Pain

Kim Jihyun x MC

NSFW

MC doesn't tell Jihyun she's hurt. He finds out anyway.

I'm back with smutty and messy ambiguous relationships! With GE Jihyun's personality. I will forever campaign for his GE personality until it becomes mainstream in fics and I don't have to put a disclaimer anymore.

TW: discussions on adult child abuse, self-destructive thoughts and actions, brief mild gore imagery, self-harm

Words: 4.5k

Masterlist Read on AO3

She stumbled into the apartment with a pained grunt.

She ought to feel bad for staining the floor with her blood, but she had more important matters to attend to. Her back was burning with lacerations and every step she took was straining the bruises that had burrowed into her muscles.

She tried not to swing her hands too much as she headed for the bathroom, disposing of her jacket at the foot of the bed. For once she was thankful for Rika's cramped apartment. It could be suffocating at times, but it was easy to live in. Jihyun said Rika had a taste of unassuming minimalism. She thought building a gilded emerald cult with thousands of followers was pushing the definition.

Gripping the edge of the sink, she clenched her jaw and started peeling off her blood-crusted shirt. The injuries shouldn't be too deep since the blood had stopped flowing down her back like a free-flowing motherfucker. But as she pulled the shirt over her head, it tore the barely knit skin apart, and warm blood started to trickle down again.

She cursed her thin epidermis. It was not supposed to tear over a mere picture frame thrown at it, even if the frame was large enough to cover half of the bedroom wall.

Her father had excellent aim and strength. He had proven that to her many times.

Sometimes she fantasised about breaking his skull in with a scorching hot pan, wondering if his hair would melt from the heat or if his eyes would bulge out of their sockets. Would he scream for her help? Would he plead for mercy or curse her for being a demon spawn? Then, she could blame him for fathering such an evil inside her.

Her stomach curdled with guilt. The resentment was hers alone, and he had loved her despite her selfishness. She couldn't shed away the primal care she had for him. She was her mother's daughter, after all.

Twisting her body in the mirror, she made a quick work of cataloguing her injuries. Two long gashes that dipped into her flesh but wouldn't require stitches, one blackening bruise near her ribs, and several cuts and bruises that stippled across her back. She tested her breathing. No wheezing. No punctured lung. An improvement from the last time. Jihyun wouldn't need to know.

She stepped into the shower and washed off the blood. The cold water chilled her bones. But it had to. It was better to feel all of it. She had asked for his wrath and now she dealt with the consequences. Besides, it helped with closing the wounds.

After she put on a pair of shorts, she reached for a bottle of alcohol from the medicine cabinet. Sharp gasps escaped her mouth every so often as she tried to pour just enough. Medicine was costly and she shouldn't waste it. The burn blinded her vision white and she hunched over the sink, focusing on the cold ceramic under her fingertips and the slicing of tiles beneath her bare feet.

When her sight had stopped swimming, she took a deep breath and bent her arm behind her in awkward angles to slap adhesive bandages to the wounded area. She grunted in frustration. It was tougher than she'd thought. She was nauseous from constantly looking up to check her reflection, the evening autumn draft was pricking at her exposed skin, and the plasters kept sticking to the wrong place.

She glared at the mirror. Do not faint.

How many nights had she spent patching herself up? And yet she still struggled. Her lack of progress was almost laughable.

She didn't think there were any glass shards embedded in her though. One good thing that came out of this. She tried not to think about the larger shard she had pocketed when the picture frame glass shattered, now buried under the bloody heap of clothes.

She froze when she heard someone punching in the door passcode.

She was about to kick her bathroom door close when Jihyun entered and switched on the lights from down the hallway. Their eyes locked, and he stopped in his tracks. Her throat constricted.

This was not how she wanted him to ever see her.

His face grew horrified, and he dropped his satchel in his rush to get to her. She had a fleeting worry that his satchel might have dropped onto the blood-stained floor and she might have ruined his fine leather bag.

Jihyun stood before her, his mouth opened and closed. She schooled her face into indifference and waited.

"You—" he started, "what happened?"

The impulse to lie was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't find a good reason to when he had caught her like this. She doubted he would believe her excuses. The day had been long and she was so tired.

"A jolly good ol' catch-up with my parents." Her tone was casual.

Jihyun watched her with a worried frown, then squeezed into the small space and ran the tap water through his hands. He was moving with a surprising efficiency as he lathered his hands with soap before scanning her injuries and her first aid supplies.

"Please let me help." His teal eyes were desperate. She had forgotten how luminous they were from up close. "You can't do this alone."

"You shouldn't have come here tonight."

"I'm well-versed in healing people," he urged. "I used to heal my own injuries when I was with Rika. I treated hers as well. I know enough, so you can trust me." His fingers twitched, almost reaching for her before dropping to his side. "Please."

More than the fact that she was found out, she hated that she had made Jihyun worry about her. The only thing she excelled at was to instil negative feelings in people who cared about her. Always wrath in her parents, sometimes concern in Jihyun.

Jihyun had never lost his head at her, but she was waiting for it to happen. No one had the patience of a saint, not even him.

It was a pity she had condemned him to another relationship where he had to play the caretaker. Letting him treat her would be an appropriate compensation for his scare. "Go on," she said. "But I should probably lie down."

Relief flooded his face. "That would be the best. Can you walk on your own?"

She nodded, but he held her arm and assisted her to the bed. He sat her down, slowly, and helped her settle into a comfortable position to lie prone in. She buried her face into the pillow that smelled faintly of mint leaves. It was Jihyun's side of the bed. It comforted her that he was permanent enough in her life that she could find traces of him in her private space.

"Has it always been this bad?" Jihyun asked quietly. The feeling of his lithe fingers inspecting her skin with clinical precision was unfamiliar. His touches were always loving, adoring, not stiff with anxiety. He had never seen her with weeping wounds. She had never let him into the truth.

"Only when I deliberately provoke them. Mother goes off the rails, father blames me for not caring about my own parents, I try to save myself before things escalate." She raised her head and smirked at him. "I don't always succeed though. Got a picture frame to my back, as you can see. Took being backstabbed by your family to the next level. They were supposed to hang it where their guests could see, but I doubt they'd hang it without the glass now. People would ask."

There was a brief silence before he spoke. "That's terrible." His voice was soft, barely a murmur. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know they are violent."

She shrugged. "You're not the one who should apologise. And they will anyway, once they think I've iced them out for too long. Not that it means anything."

He shook his head, and strands of aquamarine hair fell across his forehead. They softened the distress that wrought his features. "You're not a mouse they can play with."

"No, I'm just their daughter they can hurt," she said. Jihyun pressed a bandage against the grisliest gash across her back and she winced. "Do you think it'll scar?"

"It most likely will. Had it been any deeper, you would have needed stitches." He paused, his palm resting on her spine. "Why didn't you call me?"

"It didn't occur to me," she lied. She wanted to lay down her defences and curl into his arms. She didn't want to keep fighting for herself. There were times when escaping was better than fighting for nothing, but it wasn't something she could ask from him. Her cage was her own.

Jihyun's fingers curled against her skin, and she could sense the waves of sorrow unfurling around her. "Can you think of me from now on? It doesn't have to be all the time, moments when you are hurt will do. If you call, I will come."

"I think of you all the time, Jihyun."

"Oh. I didn't know that." The surprise was evident in his tone. He applied another bandage to her back, smoothing it cautiously over the raw wound. "But I know no one is meant to bear their burden alone. You have been through so much."

"So have you, love. I'm not special." She gave him a bitter smile. "Now, why did you come here unannounced?"

Jihyun studied her for several seconds. "I wanted to see you," he said. "You've been withdrawn lately, so I thought something had happened."

She chuckled. "I suppose this counts as something."

"I never had to imagine you in my position before," he said. "I thought you'd confide in me when you're hurt. It's what you always urge me to do. You taught me to be more trusting. But seeing you like this makes me realise how much fear you and Jumin must have felt when I took matters into my own hands." He let out a ragged sigh. "I don't know how I would cope if I came here one day and saw you unconscious on the floor."

Lucky he wasn't here when she blacked out from a concussion a few months ago.

She made a dismissive gesture. "Do as I say, not as I do."

"Only if you let me do the same thing."

She levelled a glare at him. "Definitely not."

Jihyun snorted but worked silently after. The stinging pain was dulling into low throbs. She had lost count of the bandages he used, but it must have been more than necessary. She felt the adhesives even on the spots that didn't require them. Jihyun was being excessive. After everything she had gone through, she was confident that a small, uncovered cut wouldn't be her reason to die.

He should know. He had been stabbed and was still alive fretting over her.

She heard him uncapping an ointment and felt a cool sensation on her skin. He carefully massaged the salve into the bruises, sending shivers throughout her body. How nice he was. How patient. How kind.

When he pushed her hair aside to tend to the base of her neck, her breath caught. His fingertips sent fire down her synapses. It had been so long since they did anything. The distance she put between them was growing taut. The farther she pulled, the harder she would crash back into him.

Her arm moved on its own accord when she grabbed Jihyun's fingers and pressed her lips to the back of his hand. The strong herbal scent from the salve burned her nose, but this smooth hand was his. Hers.

Jihyun was always there for her to come back to.

He was not home. Home, to her, was not something that she ever longed to go. It was the misery that strangled her into obedience and shrunk her world into a dark, bleak place to survive in.

He was her sanctuary on a far-off island. Nothing could get to them when they were together.

Jihyun let out a light chuckle that sang to her heart. "Let me wash my hands. I don't want to make you any more ill."

She squeezed his hand. "I missed you too, you know. I'm glad you're with me."

He stilled, then crouched beside her head. He tucked the hair that obscured her face behind her ear and kissed her temple before gently wrestling his hand out of her grasp. The shape of his lips was just as she remembered it.

She watched him rinse the blood from her clothes and exhaled in relief when he didn't stray to her trousers' pocket. She watched him clean his hands with water trickling down his forearms, the brown sleeves of his sweatshirt pulled up and collecting water at the elbows. She watched him storing the first aid kit and medicines in the cabinet to her preferred arrangement. She watched him doing useless things for her.

When Jihyun climbed into the bed and rested against the headboard, she asked, "Do you know what the worst part of this is?"

He stared down at her, eyes carrying a heavy sorrow. "That your parents don't know how to love you?"

"Not even close." She rolled her eyes. "I've known that all my life. Not being able to lean against anything is the real tragedy. Look at me, I can't even sit comfortably beside you."

"But you can come closer," he said slowly.

She raised her brows but let him guide her to lie on his chest, his fingers resting on her bare shoulders.

He was clothed and she wasn't and it was something she needed to rectify.

She tangled her leg around his and relaxed her head against his beating heart. It was thrumming to a rising tempo that mirrored hers. She toyed with a loose thread on the neck of his sweatshirt. "I wish you weren't so good at fixing up injuries like mine. I wish you never had to learn."

"It's all in the past now." He slipped his fingers into the gaps between hers and clasped them. "I'd go through it again if I had known it would help alleviate your pain."

She snapped up at him. "Your martyr streak needs to stop."

"I have stopped. Just allow me this one exception." He planted a chaste kiss on her mouth, then cleared his throat. "Will you meet your parents again?"

She tightened the thread around her forefinger until it looked like diagonally dissected blocks of meat and she could barely feel its existence. "I know they do horrible things sometimes, but I can't cut them off. It's not that easy. I still love them. When they're not mad, they can be easy to love."

Jihyun frowned at her finger and gently untangled the thread before snapping it off. "That's what makes leaving harder, isn't it?" The haunting in his face revealed the extent of horrors that he had experienced. An angel with a darkened, torn soul who was still rising high above. He was not her. She liked that about him. "It's easier to hate someone when they have only been awful to you. It's their residual goodwill that gives you hope that they will change. When I look back to how stubbornly I stood beside Rika, I understand. Left in the dark, we cling to the light. We forget who trapped us there in the first place."

She didn't want to admit that Jihyun was right. That he was right, yet it would not change anything.

She wondered if she had been drawn to him because the subconscious part of her knew he would understand. Jihyun knew how to make her feel less alone in the guilt and resentment and twisted love that she couldn't untangle herself from. Most people were not like him. She learned from a young age that if people found out about the abuse, they would either urge her to leave—which added unnecessary pressure on her because it was never an option—or give her pitiful looks while stumbling over their words.

"Jihyun," she said.

He drew his thumb over her chin. "Yes?"

"Don't go." She pushed herself up and crashed her lips into his.

It was fervent, maddening, and she poured all the tension from their time of separation into it. The yearning to see him. The stress from her parents meddling with her happiness. Everything she had been missing after being alone for so long.

Jihyun reciprocated with more caution, treading her lips like they were a treasure trove. He gave in eventually when she didn't show a sign of discomfort, his kiss matching her intensity.

She bit his lower lip and slipped her tongue into his mouth. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him. His hands were not sliding down her waist and everywhere else like he tended to. He kept his hold staunchly on her arms even as he deepened the kiss.

It hit her what he was doing. He was being considerate of her battered body.

She let out a sob into his mouth. Nobody had ever cared for her like this. She could stand all the violence flung at her, but one act of kindness felled her to her knees.

Jihyun pulled away in an instant, his glazed eyes searching across her face and body. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I was just thinking about you. You're wonderful. I missed you." Jihyun's expression was guarded, appraising her, and she let him. She had spoken the truth. She offered the truth so rarely that she would not omit more of it if it concerned his regard for himself. "I'm fine, Jihyun."

He gave a slow nod, and she tugged off his cashmere sweater. With a tender touch, she ran her hand through the ragged red patches of skin that stood out against his pale torso. Burn scars from a house fire. Both of them had childhood wounds woven into their very being. The past was made permanent on their skin.

Jihyun squirmed, seemingly self-conscious, despite her being familiar with the scars, but he made no attempts to stop her. He was beautiful, body and soul, she thought. He had more love and forgiveness in him than anyone she had ever known.

She trailed kisses along his jaw and sucked on the juncture behind his ear. He moaned and curved his body against her, and she smiled into his neck. It was amusing, the reactions that she could elicit out of him. No one could touch him as she could. He did not let anyone else know him intimately like this. He was only for her.

She suspected all of this played into his pleasure as well.

She twined her fingers around his hair, marvelling at the softness of it, and pulled it back to bare his throat. He had such a beautiful throat.

She didn't apply much pressure as she wrapped her hand around it, but his breath hitched. Her lips curved into a sly smile, her other hand wandering down his hard bulge. "I don't know why being choked always turns you on."

Jihyun held his gaze on her despite his reddening complexion. "I can feel you wanting me when you hold me like this."

"I do want you." She swung her leg astride him, straddling his hips and rested her forehead against his. The hard-on beneath her was hard to ignore. "It drives me out of my mind when I can't be with you."

"You shouldn't have pushed me away," he murmured. "I'll still want you, however you are, whatever condition you are in. You're always just you to me. Nothing can make me want you less."

"I'm sorry," she said. Jihyun closed his eyes, and she kissed his eyelid with a gentleness that she reserved only for him. "I'm sorry I left you alone."

He cradled her cheek, and she basked in the warmth of it. The safety of him. He was here and she couldn't fight the temptation to lose herself in him. "You didn't leave me alone. I belong with you. Anywhere you run to, you take me with you. I'm yours."

She tightened her hold on his throat to see his reaction. "You're mine," she whispered.

A slow smile graced his delicate face. "I am. I'm yours."

Jihyun drew her closer by the elbow and peppered kisses on her mouth, her chin, her throat, and her collarbones. He palmed her breasts and sucked her nipple while tweaking the other with his fingers. They hardened at his touch and she moaned his name, demanding him to be harder, rougher.

She needed to feel everything.

He bit her nipple and her hand slipped to the base of his skull, grasping at his hair. He was hers. His action and devotion were hers. It sent a deluge of pleasure down her core. Jihyun could be gentle, but he was also earnest to give her the satisfaction she sought.

She wanted him. She wanted him. She wanted him more than the freedom from her wretched life.

"I love you." She tipped his chin back. "I love you, Jihyun. Remember it."

He smiled up at her, his pupils blown wide with lust. "I love you, too."

She reached down and unbuckled his trousers. She had done more strenuous activities in a worse state, so fucking him wouldn't damage her already mangled body. But Jihyun stilled her wrist when he saw through her intention.

She narrowed her gaze. "I'm on the pill."

"You're hurt," he said. "I don't want to worsen your injuries."

"Have you not treated them?"

His grip wasn't loosening. "You need more time to heal. The wounds may open again."

"Then go slow."

Jihyun hesitated.

"Please," she croaked.

As soon as she uttered the word, she knew she had him. He sighed, but let go of her wrist. "You'll have to be careful. I'm stopping this if you push yourself too far."

"Brilliant."

Jihyun pulled down his trousers while she discarded her shorts. She lowered herself into him, relishing in the feel of him filling her. He ran his hands up and down her waist tentatively until he was sure that he wasn't touching any of the injuries on her back. Only then did he allow himself to move into her with practised ease. She held onto his shoulders and rolled her hips in tandem, burying her face into his neck and letting him control the pace. Jihyun had meant his warning and she was not eager to risk it.

It felt new. It felt familiar. It was what she had yearned for. His low grunts, her body slanting forward to hit the right spot, their skin sticking to each other in sweat and slick wetness.

Jihyun was slow, unhurried, with faint caresses down her back. His concern for her was easy to read. He was tracing back the pain that he couldn't protect her from. He might no longer bear a debilitating guilt, but she didn't think he could ever eradicate his need to shield her from misfortunes.

She couldn't blame him. It was the same with her, though the abuse done to her wasn't something that anyone could simply take away, and they both knew it.

She bit his earlobe, mumbling, "It's not your fault."

Jihyun tilted his face, and his lips brushed her cheek. "It's not yours either."

She stopped caring whose fault her source of agony was and thrust into him, picking up the pace while she dug her nails into his arms. He didn’t stop her, his hand snaking down to find her bundle of nerves instead.

She gasped and arched her back when he rubbed her. She was vaguely aware of the sharp jabs of pain in her back, but she welcomed them. Pain grounded her into him.

Jihyun's fingers were vigorous, and his thrusting was getting rougher that it twisted the coil in her lower abdomen. She writhed with need, whispering to him not to stop, and he listened, and it brought her higher and higher until the coil snapped.

She cried out in ecstasy.

Jihyun kept to his pace as she rode out the climax, not stopping despite her trembling legs and clearing haze. She focused on him overwhelming her in a way that annihilated her need for anything else. The alkaline tang of paint that lingered on him. His tightening grip on her bottom as she felt him reaching his climax. Him twitching inside her when he finally did, his muscles tensing as he came inside her. His pleasure-struck face that entranced her every time.

He was a marvel to look at, to have. He was hers. He had proclaimed it. He was the forest that shrouded her from the vultures circling above, the soft sand that sank her deeper into him with each pull of the waves, the hearth that kept her warm through the barren cold. With him, she could breathe.

She would give him everything he wanted. She would not let him go.

She slumped against him, their mixed fluids seeping down her thighs. He slipped out of her and she kissed the underside of his jaw. "I love you."

Jihyun's breath was still racing as he drew circular patterns on her shoulder blades. "Your parents didn't hurt you because you provoked them. They hurt you because they're abusive. It's not your fault."

She sighed. She had hoped he would let it go, but nothing could stop him once he made up his mind. "Knowing it doesn't make it any better."

"Do you really think so?" He ran his thumb up her inner forearm. She flinched and tried to jerk away, but he held onto her. The deepest scars had faded to silver, but the fresher ones were raised ridges along her skin. She had been careful, small cuts scattered on an easily hidden spot. She didn't realise he would notice. "Isn't this your form of penance?"

Her chest tightened. "It's the only thing I have control over. If I blame them and direct all my anger at them, I will hurt them. This way, the only person I hurt is myself. I'm not a weapon. I'm not a threat."

"Don't you think you've been hurt enough?"

She wore a thin smile and looked away. "Sure."

Jihyun's hands slid up her jaw and tilted her head back to him, his fingers resting on the pulse points on her neck. "You can be angry around me. It's natural to want to express your emotions. They're not something you're supposed to keep to yourself. Talk to me when you feel like turning to self-mutilation. I'm yours, remember? My ears are yours to talk to. My shoulders are for you to lean on."

She surveyed his pleading gaze with a twinge of pity. Jihyun was asking for more than he was supposed to receive. In time, he would see it.

Another waiting game had begun. She almost did not want to see the ending.

"All right. I'll do that."

-

Footnotes:

I went with Jihyun because I thought he'd be an interesting choice. The role reversal and all. He's forced to confront how he is seen through MC's eyes when he's involved in dangerous situations and refuses help.

MC's relief for living in Rika's suffocating apartment at the beginning parallels her feeling trapped in the familial cage that she doesn't want to leave. There's a reason why she doesn't move out of the apartment even after the cult drama is over. She's a bird caged too long that she can't take flight even if the door is open. She's not capable of leaving things behind, so she hoards everything she can (Jihyun) to herself.

MC thinking that her father "had loved her despite her selfishness" is the product of her parents' manipulation. Her belief that she's selfish if she feels negative emotions and wants anything at all is what drives her self-destruction, and ironically, her possessiveness.

With Jihyun, it's easy to make him fall into the rescuer role when the partner self-harms, so I was very mindful of depicting the discovery scene. I didn't want to romanticise it and make MC feel like if she got hurt more, she'd get more attention from him. Since this is GE Jihyun, he wouldn't default back to his old enabling methods.

I was dubious about making MC self-harm since I don't want this to be a gratuitous checklist of trigger warnings, but it makes sense for her to turn to cutting. If she has to be hurt, it might as well be by herself. Might as well be on her terms.

The nature metaphors are to show Jihyun's and MC's common interest in nature.

Are they actually in love or is it just oxytocin and loneliness? Who knows?

I felt pressured to write a romantic fic, but I haven't been able to these days so I turned to this. It brought relief somehow. This was cathartic.

I used to think I'd never write a possessive character in a non-antagonising light yet here we are. I compared this MC to the one from Wedge the Knife Under My Skin, but this one is blunter with her words and well, more possessive. She's bitter and sarcastic and resigned to her suffering. Fortunately, Jihyun is secure enough to see through her sharp defences.

The title is a twist on the locus of control concept in psychology, which is about a person's degree of belief on how much of their internal force governs their external life.

I don't know why I like to throw Jihyun into ambiguous relationships either.

Header Corner:

A quick process breakdown! Add a directional blur to the base footage > duplicate the footage, slightly shift the position and change the blur direction to get the hazy look > add a red filter overlay to fit the fic's bloody mood but retain the magenta in the background to resonate with the romance aspect > choose the appropriate angsty text and font!

-

Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.

[goblins-writing]

Imagine going to an art museum with Jumin. Slowly observing the works of art, hand in hand. Kissing under the large portraits and posing with the statues. It's sweet and allows him to realize just how truly in love with you he is. "I think you're a work of art," he murmurs into your hair later that evening when you are asleep. Somewhere in your dream world, you hear him and smile.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Hi, could I request nsfw hc’s for Seven(MysticMessenger), Seiko from corpse Party, and Garry from Ib? It would also be awesome if you could write separate oneshots for each as well, but if that’s too much you don’t have to! P.s. I’d like them to be fem reader.

Aww, I love all these characters! I hope you’ll enjoy this!

N.S.F.W. under the cut!

Saeyoung Choi/Seven/Luciel

Seven is a huge trickster and a teaser, so even during intimate times, he’ll be cracking jokes to ease the tension if there is any, of simply, to make you feel more relaxed. 

Also, he has to prepare you somehow for all the teasing he is going to put you through.

He’s going to have his fingers trailing over your skin just the faintest, just enough to make you shiver, but not enough to satisfy you - He wants to keep the act going for as long as possible, for as long as it takes to drive you to the edge of the world and beg him for sweet release.

Saeyoung likes being on top, especially if he gets to pin your wrists up above you head to stop you from hiding your face - He wants to see all of your reactions and hear all of your moans, squeaks and sighs - They’re like lullabies to his ears, and also prove a great encouragement that he’s pleasuring you well.

He’s all over the spectrum, from denying you until you go insane then giving you the biggest climax of your life, to bringing you over the edge multiple times in a single night until you can’t think straight any longer.

Truth is, he hates stress, and he gets a rather great stress relief from pleasuring you, and also, know that he can take your mind off your daily problems easily, so he’s going to do it with every occasion.

He doesn’t always have the highest drive, but when he does, he won’t let you escape his arms.

He’s also very good at reassuring you if you’re feeling insecure or shy for some reason, and would kiss your lips and neck until you forget all about those silly feelings. You’re his angel, he’ll be dead before he lets you be insecure on your own.

Saeyoung also prides himself with being an oral God and loooooves getting between your legs, grabbing at your thighs and playing around with you, teasingly rubbing around your clit but not touching it until he sees you shivering. 

He’ll keep you on the edge for so long, leaving you so desperate and begging for Nirvana, that he just HAS to comply - After all, he can’t torture his sweet darling... For too long.

----- Shinohara Seiko

Seiko is sooo childish, she’d jump on you at the most random times and pepper your with kisses everywhere.

And I mean, everywhere.

Face, neck, cleavage, chest, arms, hands, belly, thighs - You name it.

She loves holding you in her arms, and being held by you, she’s such a big baby. She’ll hold you sooo tight that you might get your air supply cut off, but it’s so worth it.

When it comes to being intimate, she can get a bit teasy - She doesn’t hide her pervy side from you or anyone - But she’ll be very soft to you about everything.

Sensual touches, long and passionate kisses, lots of compliments, body worship - She’s all about you.

Seiko is perfectly fine with giving you the world and never expecting anything in return - She just wants to focus on you all the time, but she’ll never say no to receiving.

If you ever give her oral, and even if you trail your fingers over her more ticklish places like her sides or the inner side of her thighs, she’s going to let out weird giggles and she’ll act like a kid. Maybe even wrestle you off her, just to laugh off the ticklish-ness.

Her biggest turn-on is holding your face and looking into your eyes and seeing the love you share for her. It’s the only thing she ever needs, even more than air.

Seiko would be up for anything, she’s willing to experiment with anything that you’re interested into (unless it’s more extreme stuff or things that involve pain), and I see her being into more playful stuff like a bit of bondage and a blindfold maybe.

Hell, even toys, she’s up to using them on you, or letting you use them on her, so be ready for a wild ride and many nights of pleasure.

----- Garry

Garry is SO shy, and he’ll need a lot of guidance and encouragement, but once he gets started, he’s not backing down in any way.

He’s a huge fan of both giving and receiving pleasure, so he’s perfectly fine with going down on you the whole night and seeing you cum on his face until you can’t see straight anymore, but he’s also more than happy to lay down and see Nirvana, getting sucked and touched by your heavenly touch.

He’s very much into body worship and giving tons of compliments, lots of careful touches.

If he sees that he’s doing a good job, he’ll quickly get drunk on your beauty and pleasure  and lose his mind, changing into a complete other person, filled with so much passionate fire, that he’ll surprise you.

He’s not the most experimental person, but he’s willing to try and get over his inhibitions, especially if you really want to try something new that you’re excited about - Who knows, he might actually enjoy it more than he realises.

Garry is also turned on by your clothes - If he sees you in lingerie, he’s dead. He will pounce on you, forget all about his bashfulness, and will throw you on the bed, planting kisses all over your chest, leaving a trail all the way down your belly, and to your panties.

He also has a thing for lace, and would like to have sex while you’re still wearing lingerie - There’s something so hot about seeing you almost-naked, but so sexy.

Even though it may take a bit to get him in the mood, and he’s a bit more conservative, he’s a loving partner that is partner-focused most of the time and would always make sure you finish more than twice.

Not so mention, the aftercare is absolutely heavenly, and the cuddles are so warm and loving, and he whispers love confessions all the time.

[ridingtorohan]

AU: Another Story route (vaguely referenced). Cross-links: ao3 A/n: Written in 2017. Never edited.

It's hard not to fall in love with Rika. During a late-night garden stroll, it's even harder not to be captivated by everything that she is. Sometimes the darkness haunts you - and other times you willingly step in.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ SHADOWS IN THE GARDEN

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

The garden feels eternally dark with a low and threatening feel to it. It had nothing to do with your company, or the potential of tripping. The lights, bright and blinding, hanging across the vine fencing is enough to see by. The glow is gentle and soothing and graces upon the smooth petals with an air of sincerity, of love and tenderness. Rika’s hair is lit up with a gentle glow, a slow sort of haze that makes you think of her as an angel.

The shadows are long on her face, cruel and unkind and don’t do her justice. It toughens her features, makes her look more monster than man.

Then she might tip her face into the light and any unease you feel melts away. There is something tranquil to the way she upcurves her lips, something soft and inviting. The way she speaks is soft and considering, her gaze never once flitting from you when you speak, her hand soft atop yours. You feel like you are her world, her attention solely focusing on you. It feels both overwhelming and affectionate - it is enough for you to slip up, to give in and surrender your secrets and sins.

The light dances across her skin in the garden, fresh blades of green brush against her wrists as she pulls up something that looks like a rose. Dimly, you are aware that Ray thinks that that is your favourite. Perhaps it is now, with the way she curls her fingers around it. Her eyes remain on you. You never understand why poets give life to blue eyes - hers are the fruits of the earth, the bend of the trees and the lap of the wind. There’s a tenderness, a softness to the angles of her face, something that makes her look homely.

It is not the soft petal of her lips, the swell of her cheeks, the budding of innocence in her face. It is the way she looks at you, admiring and in awe. Thirsty, as if she wants nothing more than to drink you up. You understand then why people seemingly fall prey to vampires in stories - there is an ethereal charm to her, something timeless and beautiful. There is so much devotion to her gaze that you want to fall to your needs and kiss her knuckles and pray to never leave her side. Women like her are the reason men go to war.

It is not just her appearance that pulls you in - the way her hands shifted and brushed against your skin as she helped you adjust your outfit. The precise way she handled your drinks, coffee or hot chocolate or walk milk or tea - anything and everything she held in such high regard. She does not scold herself when she gets it wrong but her jaw tightens and she will try again until she gets it right. The relief and clumsy happiness that spreads across her face is enough for your chest to warm with affection. The casual way words roll off her tongue, hot and sickly against your skin, a fever that you press into again and again and if she is the devil you will fall to temptation. She is smart and blinding in her presence - so much time and devotion and love. She never turns you away, always asks about your day even though she is with you, curious and envious of your life until assurances fall from your lips like a prayer. You will never leave her, you swear. Perhaps it might be smothering by anyone else. Perhaps this is what it is like to drown alive.

“These things must be done in precise order for the desired outcome,” she sighs your name and it is heaven sent. Rika’s lips press against the rose, tender and fleeting. A soft jealousy blushes at the edges of your gut. Her eyes catch yours and you see the darkness within. The light you barely glimpse behind her is so easily sniffed out.

You have always been afraid of the dark but with her you want to smother yourself with it. There are edges to the shadows, uncertainties to the jaggedness, something hard and foul every time you peer in. There’s an intelligence to it - something curious and strong and never fleeting, just receding. It always comes back.

Secrets are buried where nobody can see them and truths become shaded. It makes heroes out of fools and fools out of cowards. You are not afraid of the dark - just what lurks within.

With every darkness, there is light - not her, you realize moments too late, but perhaps you. She trails after you, lingering but never touching - not.. completely. The ache you feel for Rika is what the new moon feels for the light of the sun - incomplete and hollow. You were once warned of her persuasion skills, the curl of her tongue - she is the whisper in the night, the one that keeps you awake all the time.

There are secrets she keeps, ones that will burn you alive if you dry them out, and there are sins she will commit that will make the day shy away. But she will never once betray you - because the truth is this: the night eternal is keeper of secrets. Your mind will play tricks on you, deceive you into believing something is there, that something will harm you. The only thing that the shadows keep is Rika and Rika keeps you. You have nothing to fear from her.

Rika is the reason why people are afraid of the dark - because secrets can tear people asunder, can ruin and devastate them, for every secret is a truth and the truth burns with the weight of the sun.

She is honest, because honesty and truths are shared in the cover of ebony, sinful and sweet and something you never want to let go - it is the allure of the day that takes people away.

You can keep her if you pull the blinds closed and shush the world. It is enough for you not to be afraid of her, or her darkness or the coming of the dawn after - you know that you can trust her.. as much as you can trust the darkness to always be there. After all, you may stare into the dark abyss, but the abyss stares back.

[fullybooked]

Rules and Regulations + Who I Write For

I'm a new writing blog, but a long-time writer and this is only a side blog so don't expect the world of me. I want to make a contribution to the fandoms that bring me joy so this is what I plan to do.

Just call me V, unless I'm in trouble, then call me Vega.

I WILL WRITE

Fluff

Angst

smut (if requested and I can do it justice)

comfort

She/her reader

he/him reader

platonic relationships as well as romantic

Will be gender-neutral unless specified

I WILL NOT WRITE

Non-con

Real people (actors/youtubers/tiktokers/ect)

all those weird ass kinks (I promise you know what I'm talking about)

WHAT I WRITE FOR

Genshin Impact (I haven't played Sumeru so not the new characters yet) Stranger Things Harry Potter Percy Jackson FFXV JJK Demon Slayer Marauders Era Mystic Messenger Arcane LOTR BNHA Supernatural Riverdale (I haven't watched it all) Marvel Skyrim (pls don't judge me I'm sensitive)

Honestly just ask and I'll tell you. There's no point in me listing everything.

[libra-kirishima]

Mystic Messenger Characters + Their Toxic Traits ✨

Feat. Zen, Yoosung, Jaehee, Jumin, Seven, and V

Short headcanons inspired by this post I've made about My Hero Academia characters and their toxic traits x

! fem reader, brief mentions of sex !

Zen

Insanely jealous. He's barely able to restrain himself from barking like a dog when he sees you talking to another man

- and he will come up to you mid-conversation and embarrass you in front of this man because Zen wants him to know who you belong to.

Has some mildly sexist views on women

- Speaks for you even if you're right next to him. Will order for you at restaurants without being asked. If someone asks you a question and Zen thinks he knows the answer he'll answer it for you as if you aren't capable of answering for yourself.

- Tends to believe that you're fragile and vulnerable and that he needs to protect you because you're a woman

- Will help you with chores but he believes it's your job to cook

- Doesn't ever let you take control during sex. He thinks that, as the man, he is supposed to be the one on top and in control. He's a pleasure dom but sex is always done his way because he never lets you take the lead.

Canonically homophobic

Lacks self awareness

Yoosung

King of putting things off. Ignores problems in the relationship for as long as he possibly can until one day it all comes to the surface and he bursts into tears

Avoids conflict to the point of concern. He'd rather lie to himself that everything is fine between the two of you than address an issue in your relationship because he doesn't want to start a fight.

Struggles to make time for you. A lot of your dates are hanging out together while he studies in his room or at the library.

Shamelessly codependent

Jaehee

Also terrible at making time for you

Always working. If she's not working under Jumin then she's always working on improving the coffee shop. She doesn't know how to function when she's not working 24/7 and under constant stress

She takes things so personally. She'll never tell you she took something you said personally but you can tell.

Lowkey a grudge holder. If you two get into an argument she'll bring up something you said to hurt her feelings two years ago.

Jumin

Wants to take care of you but "taking care of you" can mean doing things that are very controlling sometimes

- extremely resistant at first to the idea of you having a job or going to college since he can provide for both of you

- hates taking "no" for an answer if he thinks he knows better than you. If you're sick with a cold he'll go against your wishes and call a doctor no matter how many times you insist that you're fine.

- Never learned how to let someone else be in charge of something so he also never lets you take control during sex.

Resistant to change

Makes important decisions without you based on what he thinks you would want

Can come across as very apathetic at times. He thinks he's offering an objective point of view that will help soothe your emotions but instead it can feel like he doesn't care about them because you're being unreasonable.

707

Has gotten into the habit of lying about the dumbest shit, so it can be difficult to tell whether he's being serious or messing with you

Doesn't help with household chores because he doesn't find them mentally stimulating

Gets really bad depressive episodes. He doesn't want Saeran to see him like that so he bottles everything up until he can't anymore and will take all his emotions out on you sometimes.

Has never had to communicate how he feels before meeting you, so he never learned how. A lot of the time you're relying on your intuition because he doesn't talk to you about it. Part of him still believes nobody cares about how he's feeling.

V

Incredibly passive. Getting him to voice what he wants is like pulling teeth.

Codependent and in denial about it. Thinks he's just really in love with his wife.

Has a tendency to completely ignore how he's feeling because part of him is desperate to please you.

Tends to think in absolutes. Has a very black and white view on most things

Struggles to believe that he deserves you and that makes him crave validation, but he never wants to voice to you that he needs validation.

[married-to-google-translater]

I wanted to request… maybe headcanons for a yandere ray from mystic messenger? specifically i was imagining like, what would he be like with someone who’s really innocent and naive- perhaps someone like an angel to mint eye. i hope that’s not too specific!

Gift is made by @sapphireicecream

Thank you for letting me use it <3

Yandere Ray headcanon

Ray would adore you.

Your kindness and gentleness would melt his heart.

If you were to be gentle with him, it would feel like a dream.

Ray would really adore you.

You could be an angel to mint eye…

But you would be like a god to him.

And believe that Ray would take your safety very seriously.

He wouldn't want "bad" people to be able to take advantage of your kindness.

Ray would like to protect you.

You are too innocent for this world.

You would spend most of your time with Ray.

And he would try to make you as comfortable as possible.

Pretty much anything you'd want Ray to do.

You would receive your favorite flowers, gifts, favorite food, etc.

He could also give hugs if you let him.

Surely Ray would blush during hugs.

However, there would be a few exceptions.

Like he couldn't let you go…

And he couldn't let you see other people either.

But otherwise you'd be fine <3

[queenie-avenue]

Can I go where you go?

—> Domestic Jumin Han Headcanons with you!

↪ SFW, slightly suggestive at times, fluff, reader is not specified to be male nor female

🦋 ⤻ archives.

— Jumin always makes an effort to cook breakfast for you, even if he has a chef. His mornings are one of the only times he gets to fully spend time with you, so he makes sure he cherishes and takes full advantage of that time.

— Doesn't mind getting called Cat Mom/Dad after getting together with you because technically, you are also Elizabeth's Cat Mom/Dad which means both of you are married and have a child. (I feel like he would think like that, idk why.)

— Loves doing chores with you.

— If you are doing dishes on their own, he will make sure to wrap his arms around your waist and sway a bit and kiss your neck sweetly.

— Jumin makes a big effort to know about your interests. If you like anime, they will make sure to watch the summaries on YouTube of their favourite anime everytime a new episode comes out. If you like painting, they will learn about the best museums to bring you to.

— Loves when you dress traditionally.

— Will buy a vinyl and various disks with elegant music and play it every night. When both of you are in the mood, Jumin will invite you to dance and twirl you about softly while kissing you.

— His kisses normally follow the pattern of Hands —> Arms —> Shoulders —> Neck —> Jaw —> Cheeks —> Nose —> Forehead —> Lips. He makes sure to take a lot of time so you feel good.

— Although he loves the passionate kisses you give, he finds himself falling in love with you even more everytime you kiss and squeeze his hands at the same time. (BONUS POINTS FOR KISSES ON KNUCKLES)

— Dislikes it when you turn away from him in bed. He prefers sleeping while facing each other, cuddling too.

— A lot of different sleeping positions (not like that, get your mind out of the gutter): his head on your shoulders/heads/chest or your head on his chest. He especially likes when you cuddle closer if it's too cold and Bury yourself into his chest.

— Loves when you wash his hair in the bath or vice versa. (Inspired by that one wholesome reddit post. Does anyone know whether that couple is still together?)

— Likes to put his hand under your shirt to trace your spine, collarbone or any bones, really.

— His Favourite Nicknames for you are 'My Queen, Lover, Darling, Sweetheart.'

— You're the only one he allows to call Elizabeth, 'Elly'. He doesn't like to admit it but he also catches him calling Elizabeth 'Elly' at times.

— Loves to see you playing with Elizabeth.

— After a stressful day of work, he will silently drop everything at the door and bury his head into your chest.

— If he ever finds you crying, he will kiss and lick the tears from your eyes.

— Whenever he sees a photo of you on an online article or anywhere in the Media, he will complain that they cannot capture the 'True essence of your beauty.'

[password-door-lock]

[distinguisheddingus]

Since I started playing Mystic Messenger again I feel very inspired... So I had a this idea for a story with High School AU/Soulmate AU.

I thought about a story where MC goes to the same high school as the RFA members. She is a normal girl, with a quiet life, until one day she ends up accidentally touching one of the boys (I'm undecided between Zen and Jumin) and strange memories are awakened in her, like deja vous about her and the boy, about their life together in many possible scenarios. And from that moment her life changes forever. The memories become clearer and clearer and somehow she connects the dots and remembers everything about their life together. Every time MC and the boy meet, they fall in love and live a happy life until... he accidentally dies and everything starts all over again. And so MC understands that his mission is to save her soulmate life, at any cost.

[serede986]

Boyfriend Jumin HCs~

Gets you a bouquet of roses on every date. When he first saw your excitement on receiving the first bouquet, he got addicted to your happiness, although he refuses to accept it.

Speaking of dates, he arrives exactly 30 minutes before meet-up time. You're not aware of it, so shhh.

He is learning new breakfast recipes from the chef for whenever you stay over. He would wake up early, and prepare to serve you breakfast in bed.

Matching pajamas are ordered for you, him and Elizabeth the third.

Drops Elizabeth in your care, whenever he's out for a business trip and he can't take you with him. He trusts you and no one else.

Neatly folds your clothes and keep it next to his, whenever you visit him for a few days or travel with him.

Will take your advice over every new merger his company makes.

Is obsessed with your voice. He'll listen to you talk for so long, you think he's not invested in your topic of conversation. But believe me, he is. Imagine that love struck look on him.

Loves it when you put his head on your lap and play with his hair or massage his scalp. Count to 100 and he'll be out in a deep sleep.

Kisses your forehead every time one of you leave to part ways.

Will read every favorite romance book of yours, just to learn how to swoon you.

"Elizabeth the third, we need to talk about when your mother comes over. You're precious to me, and so is your mother. But your mother has taken the first place in my heart."

[shewrotesomething]

Saeyoung - The Day He Realized He Wanted to Marry You

There were 3 moments for him. The first 2 were times when he, out of nowhere, just quoted a meme reference and without missing a beat you responded. 

But there was a moment he vividly remembered. 

It was at a party. They had decided to increase the capacity of the guest list, and though you never expressed it, there was a bit of pressure on your part as the planner. He tried his best to help but he was occupied with work and his brother settling in. 

You took it like a champ, but the nerves really set in on the morning of the party. 

He watched you that day clean, moisturize, and exfoliate every inch of your skin. Saeyoung didn’t dare bother you during the ritual. 

Finally, the party came. Normally, Saeyoung would drive you to the venue, but since his brother wouldn’t be attending, he wanted to make sure everything was in order before he left him. And so, you headed to the venue earlier.

When he arrived, the party was already well underway. 

His eyes searched the crowd for your familiar stature with a half-jesting apology already forming on his lips. 

He spotted you by one of the tables speaking to the owner of a small jewelry business. The woman seemed to enjoy your company. She was inviting you to the new store they opened in the mall. It was their first expansion and you looked just as elated as she did.

A younger woman was beside her. Immediately, your demeanor shifted. You were a bit cheerier, a bit less formal. She was talking to you about a dating sim you both played. You laughed at something she said. Something about tragic backstories and how writers knew how to hurt their readers.

And he found himself pausing at the sight… at the normalcy of the scene.

His midnight thoughts crept up in his moment of hesitation.

Perhaps this is what you really needed. Normalcy. Idle chatter about going to the mall. Playing video games to pass the time. It should be this and not…

Not waiting for hours on end to make sure he comes back home in one piece

Not dealing with sleepless nights because you got woken up by the screaming

And certainly not putting up with… him.

With his skillset, it would be a simple thing to disappear. To retreat into the crowd and wipe the entirety of his existence from your life. 

You got pulled into this life because of him and now that you’re with him…you’re even deeper.

No, you don’t deserve this. You deserve a normal life. A peaceful one. 

His mouth suddenly dried and the half-jesting apology dissipated on his tongue. 

He took one step back. And before he knew it, he was walking away from the scene… from you.

His heart hammered in his chest. Taking hold of his breaths. Thoughts ravaged in his mind.

He’s doing it again. He’s pushing you away. 

No, this is the right thing to do.

Wait, just… he has to calm down. This isn’t the answer.

But it is. The only thing he’s going to give you is trouble.

No, that’s not true. You love him. You’ll always love him.

But he doesn’t deserve that. And you… you don’t deserve all the shit he’s got with him.

No, it’s going to be okay. Just calm down.

No. Disappear. He has to leave right now. Before you fall in deeper.

No. Stay. Just stay.

No. Leave—

Arms snaked around his waist. His fight or flight instinct flared up. He fists clenched but before he could do anything else, a voice halted the torrent of his thoughts.

“Caught you!” you yelled with a giggle. 

He turned his head as you rested your chin on his shoulder. “H-h…hey,” he answered in a low voice. You smiled at him. His heart slowed at the sight of your face. “You look beautiful.”

Your eyes narrowed in a jesting glare. “If you think flattering me will get you out of trouble you’ve got another thing coming, mister. Don’t think I didn’t see you running away while I dealt with Mr. Dokgo. That was seriously cruel.”

His hands reached up to touch the arms holding him in place. “Sorry. I didn’t think you needed me.”

“And where did you get that idea? I’ll always need you and because of that,” your glare became sharper and your voice dropped an octave, “I will always find you.”

Something in those words and the jokingly ominous manner you phrased it unlatched something in his chest. And with it, a warmth washed over his stature and he felt his mouth spread to a grin. Then, catching onto your jest, he faked a sob. “There will be no escape for me. This is my life now. Trapped and helpless.”

“I’m glad you understand your unfortunate circumstances. As punishment, you are sentenced to feeding me honey buddha chips while we watch the best or arguably worst bollywood film I can find.”

He chuckled. “Okay.”

“And… and you have to buy me and Saeran our favorite ice cream flavors.”

“Roger that.”

“We each get one pint.”

“Hm. You’re really milking this aren’t you?”

“Oh! And you’re taking me to a cat cafe as soon as you’re available.”

He nodded with equal parts of sincerity and resignation. “Yes, ma’am.”

The two of you paused when you heard a sigh. In front of you, Zen stood with a bored expression. “I mean, I know you guys are in love but really? In front of the guests?”

A blush coated your cheeks. A real one. Not the kind that your makeup gave you. You released him immediately and the urge to distance himself has all but dissipated.

“It’s time for your speech,” Zen informed.

You gave Zen a mock salute before walking off. “Hey, I’ll catch you later, okay?”

He smiled. Softly. Knowingly. This was his life. It's you and him against everything. And he wants it for the rest of time. So he yields to his fate and answered, “I’ll be waiting.”

[ridingtorohan]

Content: References to Rika and V's relationship and their dynamic as well as Another Story spoilers. AU: Another Story (V's Route). Cross-links: ao3 A/n: Written in 2018. Never edited. This was an abstract psychological study. So it reads a little differently.

Rika doesn't know what to consider you as - a bug to be trampled on or someone to be saved. In the blinding, purifying light, there are answers - and there are secrets better left buried.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎‎‏LAMENTATIONS IN THE ‎‏‏‎THRONE ROOM ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎───※ ·❆· ※───

The slivers of moonlight on the floor marred the smooth expanse. They were like little rivers of pale light, fogged and distant. The haze to it looked otherworldly.

It was no secret that she liked to bathe in the light of the moon, the sun long eclipsed below the line of the horizon. For all her praise of the sun and its powers, she was by default, a child of the night. She has never understood everyone’s affinity for the daylight hours, for when the dawn crept in and smothered everything in its heat.

There was always a false sense of security there - the pale hours of the morning fledged hope and blind innocence. A cloudless sky often promised a fruitful future, did it not? People can get sunburned however, though, they can swelter and die beneath the heat of the star. The moon was incapable of its own light and relied on the sun to shine. She needed V as much as she needed the dark eternal cloak of the shadows.

The daylight hours did little to hide the truth - even though things lurked in the dark when the light is at its thinnest, it would be easy to hide and dispose of the truth and the frightening reality of insecurity that cannot be hidden from prying eyes. All her flaws and faults were visible then and it was all she could do to hide away from it all.

Was she the only one who felt this way? Had she been the only one dealt the cruel hand of fate, who had to listen to her parents scream and cry? To be taunted and belittled by her classmates? To be shoved into closets, to hide away from the pain, from the light that did little to hide her bruises or her tears? Rika had grown in that small little room of hers, where the only company was the curls of pure childish fear and anguish that pulsed through her. No one had come for her, not even the teachers who did little to shield her. Not her own aunt who had simply shaken her head at her mother. Everyone had tried to pry her from her closet, her own safe place, and she had kicked and screamed all the way. Even V had bound her wrists and dragged her from it.

There’s a sound then, a scuffle that dissipated her thoughts harshly. She mistook it for the sound from her dream of the pullstring light overhead. Instead, she blinked and the walls in her mind faded. She was instead left with the broad walls of the throne room, bright and colourful with cloths of ruby and gold that spilled onto the floor above her chair like waterfalls. The air was still aside from the sounds of her own breathing. Her blood thrummed like molten fire, hot and harsh against her arteries.

The sound echoed again and - there - her gaze focused on you. You who sat so plainly in the corner there. A dimmed light danced across the underside of your jaw, shadows long and dark through your hair and over your shoulders. The majority of candles in the room had since sputtered out and the darkness blanketed the air. She stared without comprehension and your foot moved, a slow bob to your head before you stiffened and straightened then relaxed and folded unto yourself.

Rika unfolded her fingers, the joints numb and her skin shivered without her taking notice of the cold. She called your name then but you could only nod plainly without response. Her exhale felt like an expulsion of steam from her blood-boiled body but nothing sickly came up, not even when she moved with the grace of a sputtering fire. Strands of light cut across her skin, soothing and calm against her. Her only real ally, even now. She strode across the room, her footfalls baffled by the end threads of her coat. The glow of the light as it fell across everything that she knew to be true - it was up to her to intercept and divine the sordid lies from it.

She stepped up to you, a sleeping person who barely stirred at her approach, even when she had called your name again. Her savior’s clothes are heavy atop her dress as if it might smother her. Rika stood there, aware that you had likely not moved since your arrival to the throne room hours ago. The honesty of the matter settled thickly into her bones.

You were a bug beneath her, the one with enough sentience to cower and shield itself from her when she approached. The one who was disgusting to even regard, with a flimsy shell of protection and naive eyes that dared to stare back when she graced them with a look. Ray had chosen you - he had become a moth to your inner light - the same light that threatened to snuff him out and choke her. You were feral with your sincerity and kindness but reckless towards yourself. Rika’s fingers clenched at the hem of her coat and the anger misdirected towards you festered.

Rika knew of your insignificance here, knew how little you mattered outside your title of Special Missionary. You were born to be weak, to be stepped on by the stronger as they climbed up the ladder to infinity. You were meant to be crushed underfoot, to be shoved aside and slotted away like a dusty unused toy after you broke. You weren’t meant to be loved, you were meant to be molded.

Just like she had been.

Rika unfisted her hands and the fabric fell loose, untucked past the palms and just long enough to cradle her fingers. Some part of her hated you so strongly that it reared its ugly head at the pit of her stomach to the point that her gut felt unsettled at the mere sight of you. It fumbled and churned, messy and fluid and hard to contain. This wasn’t her, this directionless anger, but the more she saw you trot down the halls with Ray at your heels, the easier she could pinpoint it.

She hated how easily she had been tossed away, so carelessly. She had wanted a Paradise where nobody would be hurt, where peace would be forced to compensate for the damnable silence that had traumatized her youth. Mint Eye was forced to understand each other because it wouldn’t happen otherwise, not in the world in which everyone lived. Nobody had understood her, nobody had even tried. Everybody only saw the surface and if your scars weren't there they simply didn’t exist.

V had smothered her, had tried to pull her from her zone of comfort and forced her into the light. Even after she had escaped her closet in her youth, she had built a new one every time she needed to. Rika would close her eyes and it was there, her only comfort and friend when everyone’s words and hands had made her bleed. It had been full of the only comforts she had known and V had shattered it all. Then he had killed her in ever sense of the word except the action when he had spun the story of her death.

Her friends, the RFA - he had closed the door between them and her and taken the doorknob with him. It was all she could do to bulldoze it down and try to pull them through. Ray had been there - but he had obeyed her every word. He was still worlds away, still mentally chained to the house that his brother and mother had left him in. Rika tried - she tried to teach him how to break himself free, had attempted it herself and yet ... He was too far away ...

Not everybody could be saved but she yearned to try. She would save everyone that she could - just because she had never been saved did not mean that they couldn’t be. Did you want to be? Ray had said you had devoted yourself to RFA, but the messages that she had glimpsed on the phone for him ... she couldn’t be certain. Whether it had been Ray or someone else who you held dear, even now. V could have skewed your view, seduced you to his overwhelming light. Rika had been hardened by her youth, though, had been subjected to wounds and barely escaped with her life. What fate would befall you?

You, who looked so much like a child in this moment? So finitely small, minuscule beneath her full height, shoulders hunched together and knees folded to your chest. The slow, steady sound of your exhales without lapse. A defenseless child, already filled with so much trust towards her because why else would you sleep so tranquilly in her presence otherwise? Why else would you have sought her out time and time again and make the conscious choice to tuck yourself against the wall while she tended to the questions and faults of her believers?

You had rarely interfered with Rika’s work, barely pressed her with childish or idiotic questions. The answers you sought were given - not just because you had asked but because there had been genuine curiosity there. That alone had smoothed the edges of the hammer-blows behind each word you uttered. You are by no means docile, but neither are you reckless.

Perhaps the reason why Rika had hated you so was not because you had replaced her, but perhaps you were the echo of her youth, the child who had found solace in the closet after she had been condemned to it. There has always been pain in that knowledge, that the haven that she so readily believed to be her haven had been her prison for so long. That it still trapped her, even now. Had V even pulled her out? Or had she pulled him in and shunned him for the flashlight he brought to scope his way through the darkness?

Had you simply hidden yourself away, away from the truths and the hardships of the world like she had done? Is that why you took Ray’s hand and blindly trusted him, trusted his innocence? Was any comfort better than none, from a complete stranger? Is that why you stayed? Or had she forced it upon you, forced that trust and companionship through bribery and falsehoods? Had she only pressed her hands through the cracks and dragged you into her own room of darkness, shielded from everyone else? Did she simply only see what she wanted to?

Her outer robe fell easily away from her body, slid from the phantom bruises that had faded long ago. The aches from her past never went away and had burned and blemished her. It was back when she had foolishly followed those who should have known better. How stupid of her to believe that those people would have saved her.

She would save you, though. That was her full intention, and as her saviour’s clothes fell across you, a shield — a closet door — against the world, she knew she could very well die trying.

Rika’s back slid against the wall beside you, her fingernails clipped against the screen of your cellphone as she set it away from you, safe from any potential of flailed limbs. She knew little of your history, but it was enough for her to see the truth even within the dark: that you could be saved, that redemption could be brought to any and all within the RFA. In the meantime, though ...

Her eyes slid towards the meek and unassuming lines of silver in the middle of the room as it danced upon the floorboards. Her eyes closed and her hand settled along your wrist, fingers tangled along your pulse. For a moment, she was a child alongside you, at war with the world. Her mind’s walls crept back in and she is seven, dress tangled with her ankles and tears wet in her eyes but dry on her cheeks. In her mind, she was not alone this time.

Yes, in the meantime, she would figure out whose room the two of you were in - because now you sat curled up with her in her closet - whose safe haven built from lies and suffering and self-shielding. Was it her closet, both broken and patched and made of quilted lines of puzzle piece dreams? Or yours, completely separate and foreign to her touch, to her mind and to her questions? She was the Saviour, the Keeper of Truths. She could not answer the question of who was in the attempt of saving whom, but she supposed that when the answer came, it would suffice for the other question as well - of whose room she imagined now for comfort. Wherever they chose to shield themselves from, wherever they found solace — the sliver of light that slid through the crack of the door ... was that the door as it closed upon them, or had it been the moment she had started to push it open?

[carnivorousyandeere]

If that's the case then it would be a crime if you don't include yan Mad doctor/scientist

Well, if it would be illegal not to… 🤭

( MDNI, No Age in Bio DNI )

CW: unethical medicine, medical play, unsafe knife play, blood play, fear play, sadistic yan

Info: bottom reader, sub reader

Yandere mad scientist bending you over an examination table, flipping up your flimsy hospital gown, their gloved fingers sliding inside you, opening you up… unbuckling their belt and fishing their cock/strap out, sliding it inside you with a hiss. You can feel their breath, hot and humid, even through the medical mask pressing against the back of your neck, can imagine how they must look, their glasses fogged up and crooked, skin slick with sweat. Their gloved hands trail all over your body, preparing you for the real course, their scalpel. Carving their name into your back, shivering and relishing in your choked sounds when they hook a slicked and bloodied finger in their mask and pull it down to shove their tongue as far as they can into the wounds they’ve left. Don’t worry too much, they’ll disinfect it once they’re done. After all, they’re your beloved and loyal doctor…

[mikopikopon]

I love the characters, but I have mixed feelings about the game itself.