#panther head tattoo

[horn-in-f-me]

I got my knee tattooed a week and a half ago and now it’s my entire personality and I love her so much

[jeonride]

hey, welcome to jeonride's jeon wonwoo reading list part 1 ! (click the navigation if you want another reading list/ fic recs!)

navigation

FICTS ! ✧*。

Just Ask (fluff, smut, boyfriend!wonwoo) by @idyllic-ghost

Getting Closer (angst, smut, horror ft. joker!wonwoo and chief inspector female!reader) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Red Lights (incubus!wonwoo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Amour-Haine & Co. (smut, enemies to lovers) by @wonwoosthetic

Crush 03 (fluff, mention of sex, mechanic!au) by @gyukult

GAM3 BO1 (smut, fluff)

The King's Red Rose (smut, royal au) by my lovely sunny ! @sunnylovespickles

SIX-THIRTY (smut, boyfriend!woo) by @cheolhub

Favorite (smut, teacher!woo) by @wonusite

Sweet Eye Candy (smut) by @idyllic-ghost

Chase Me, Make Me Yours (smut, angst) by @wonuhour

Warm Encounters (smut) by @flowerboykun

Roommates with Benefits (smut) by @shuaflix

Favorite Poison (smut, fluff) by @lovelyhan

Sweet Darling (w/ chan) by @bitchlessdino

Love You Twice (smut) by @toruro

Wedding Weekends (fluff) by @suhnshinehaos

By Line (ceo!wonwoo x reporter!reader) by @wonwussy

Blood Love : One More Taste (smut, vampire!wonwoo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Blood Love pt. 2 (smut, vampire!wonwoo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Sharing is Caring but I don't Care (all fluff, hybrid!woo) by @gamerwoo

Payment Due! (smut, camboy!woo) by @solarwonux

Blind Spot (smut, enemies with benefits) by @sluttywonwoo

All to Yourself (smut, best friend!woo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

POV (fluff, hurt/comfort) by @by-soleil

Lavender Tea & Honey (smut, fluff) by @peachybun-bun

Working Late (smut, husband!wonwoo) by @number1mingyustan

Cat Got Your Tongue? (smut, angry sex) by @number1mingyustan

Deluxe Version (fluff, dash of angst) by @darl-ings

Have Mercy (smut, rough sex) by @sluttyminghao

His Favorite Color is Blue (angst, fluff) by @euphoricsunflowers

Feelings (fluff) by @markberries

Hardcover (fluff) by @markberries

I'm a Swimming Fool (college au) by @glowonu

You VS The Universe (fluff) by @cheolism

First Kiss (fluff, barista!woo) by @ally-127

Mine (smut) by @peachybun-bun

Heads in The Cloud, Landing Among Stars (fluff, pilot!wonwoo) by @twogyuu

Four Years (fluff, exes to lovers) by @kyufessions

Needy (smut, jealous sub!wonwoo) by @cheolhub

Love Me Tender The Series (smut, sub!woo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Yours (Pt. 2 of POV) by @by-soleil

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。

gentle on the streets, freak on the sheets (by @multi-kpop-fanfics)

you're the prettiest during sex to him (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

neighbor!wonwoo jerks himself off (smut) by @cheolhub

fucking detective!wonwoo on a train (smut) by @jeongwife

you use safeword during sex (smut, comfort) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

thigh riding (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

fucking while you're pregnant (husband!woo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

look at me (smut) by @peachybun-bun

coworker!wonwoo (smut) pt.2 & pt.3 by @euphoricsunflowers

02.47 am (fluff) by @gyuslcve

you have your me (fluff, comfort)

daylight (fluff)

dad!wonwoo (fluff, implied smut)

making out (smut, soft dom!wonwoo)

fucking on the kitchen counter (smut)

sucking his dick while his working (smut)

him sucking your tits (fluff, boyfriend!woo)

him asking you to sit on his face (smut)

hard + fluff thoughts (boyfriend!woo)

sucking + kissing his tattoo (smut)

pervert gamer!woo (smut)

gamer boyfriend!wonwoo | 2nd ver

professor!wonwoo (smut)

fucking lawyer!wonwoo (smut)

nsfw sleepover (smut)

wonwoo hard thoughts (fluff, smut)

fwb (kitten!woo, mistress kink)

active during nighttime ( hybrid black panther!wonwoo and hybrid cat!reader)

smut, established relationship (also fluff)

[09.00pm] (all fluff!)

late night walk (fluff)

does he could make you feel good as i do? (racer!wonwoo)

more myself than i am (fluff)

vvwonwoovv is on live! (streamer!wonwoo)

he spoils you so much (smut, ft.mingyu)

[04.01pm] (smut)

him obsessed with your body after giving birth (smut, dad! wonwoo)

body worship (smut, kinda)

bedtime routine (fluff)

fireplace (fluff, kinda smut).

cuddling (fluff)

69 (smut)

car sex (smut)

take care of me (sub!wonwoo)

needy sub!wonwoo (smut)

workplace rivals (smut)

of shy smiles & misunderstanding (fluff)

waiting (fluff)

childish joy (fluff)

two umbrellas (fluff)

14:28 (fluff, contains bodyworship)

cuffed (smut, wonwoo is a sub sorta???)

fucked by office mate (smut)

[ksakiswh0re-xo]

✧ telling hanma to bow to you instead :

cw: fem reader, role reversal, oral (f! receiving), dirty talk/degradation, fingering, impact play, brat-taming ig u can say

wc: 991

"On your knees."

His "Sin"-tattooed hand pointed down to the spot in front of him on the shiny, swirled-marble floor in his office.

Very characteristic of Hanma to demand head in the middle of him doing paperwork.

"How about you get on your knees for me?"

You quirked a perfectly arched eyebrow at him as you stood before his desk; all you were trying to do was ask him what he wanted for lunch.

You didn't have time for his shit today.

Hanma's golden eyes trailed all over your body, starting from your feet and moving up to your pretty fingers sporting those black stiletto nails with real 14K gold-chain detailing.

It came as no surprise to him that you'd say some shit like that; you've always been a brat.

Hell, that's why he liked you.

A dangerous, violent man like Shuji Hanma wouldn't dare put a weak-minded bitch at his side.

"Oh yeah?"

In an instant, all 6'4" of him was towering over you, skulking forward like a panther ready to pounce until he had backed you up against the bookshelf situated at the back wall.

In his pursuit of you, he had also grabbed his rolling chair from behind the desk to push in front of you once he had you trapped.

"Sit down."

"Shuji, I don't have time for this bullshit-"

"I said sit the fuck down."

With an exaggerated huff, you threw yourself into the chair, arms crossed over your chest indignantly. A true brat, indeed.

The corners of Hanma's lips turned up slightly, and he leaned down to kiss your forehead softly before grabbing you by the neck with the "Punishment" hand.

"Telling me what to do, huh baby? I kinda liked that glint in your eyes just then."

He tilted your head back to peck your lips, then put one hand on the chair to push it forward towards his desk.

Hanma slammed you against that desk, the sturdy oak material not even moving an inch with the impact.

"Can't say it's anybody's fault but my own, but that's okay. I like it when you get bitchy."

"What are you doing, Shuji? Stop messing around!" You moved to get up, but the look that he shot you quickly made you reconsider.

"You wanted me on my knees, so that's what I'm doing, baby."

He chuckled softly and dropped to his knees before you.

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor; this was new.

A small, golden key on a chain around his neck came into your line of sight as Hanma reached behind his head to unclasp it.

He used the key to unlock a bottom drawer on the desk and pulled out a pair of shiny, silver ankle cuffs along with a spreader bar.

“You like talking down to me? Making me into your little bitch? Huh, babe?”

Once he had you situated with your legs bent up at an angle and cuffed to either leg of the desk, he rolled his sleeves up.

Hanma spanked the fat parts of your thighs - left, right - alternating between “Sin” and “Punishment” as if you had wronged him, had betrayed him somehow and he wanted to make you suffer before he gave into pleasuring you.

Your body jolted and you flattened your back against the soft cushion of the chair with each strike.

He didn’t stop until your skin was so warm that it could’ve been glowing if you looked hard enough. His big, strong hands smoothed over the aching flesh and then slipped behind your knees to hike your legs up enough to slip his head between them.

The cuffs clinked against the legs of the desk, the cold material uncomfortably digging into your ankles.

“SHUJI, oh God!”

His hot tongue flickered over your clit; he used the tip to coax it from under its hood before pulling back and spitting a fat glob of spit onto it. The lewd sound echoed across the expanse of the large office space, making your face burn.

He moved his hands from behind your knees to grip your still-aching thighs and hold you steady as he buried his face in your wet cunt and went to town.

When Shuji was irritated and eating you out, he was doing it for his pleasure, not yours. It always felt like he was worshipping you, though. Doing his best to please you and show you that you didn’t belong anywhere else except with him.

“Mmm..,” he moaned, opening his golden eyes and staring up at your heated face as he continued to use his tongue to play between your folds. 

With a loud slurp, he pulled himself away, reluctantly.

“Ahh!”

Three fingers sunk into you; “Punishment” while “Sin” pulled your folds back so he could watch how your little hole stretched to take him.

“You’re soakin’ me, fuckin’ slut.” Hanma grunted as your juices began sliding down his wrist and forearm.

After only a few minutes of this, he removed his fingers and flicked them - you could hear your wetness splash against the marble floor, further embarrassing you but also turning you on.

He switched hands in rapid succession and began fingering you once again, twisting and angling his fingers directly at your G-spot.

“S-Shuji, please…” Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, breathing labored.

"What's that?,” he leaned his ear towards you, “ready for me to get up, love?"

He sat back on his legs, knees spread wide so you could see how his cock strained against his pinstriped suit pants. You quickly shook your head.

"N-no, Shuji - please, don't stop!"

This brought a wicked smile to Hanma’s face and he licked over his lips before leaning back in to kiss each of your knees.

"Hmph, wasn't planning on it, brat."

✧taglist: @enchantedforest-network, @darkstarlight82, @chifuyuskoneko, @honeybleed, @ranspuppy, @kokonoiscoconut

[wyattjohnston]

with the posting of the masterlist, the summer fic exchange 2k24 has come to an end! 33 fics written by 31 people. i am eternally grateful that these exchanges are still going strong and that people are having fun with it!

please read all the fics below, even if it's a player you don't normally read for. a lot of work has gone into these fics and they all deserve your time. make sure to reblog and leave comments when you've read it!

please respect all warnings at the beginning of fics. if a fic has been marked as smut or 18+ and you are younger than, do the right thing and do not read it.

i'm still unsure if i'm running a winter exchange or if i'm going to maybe reconsider the timing, but please come back and feel free to ask questions around november/december if i haven't said anything!

the summer fic exchange 2k24 masterlist

Boston Bruins

Jeremy Swayman

Indoor Cat by @nhl-stories for @ bqstqnbruin

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

i’ve been yours since you stepped through the door tonight by @writingonleaves for @ callsign-denmark

Third Time's the Charm by @typical-simplelove for @ kurlyteuvo

Frederik Andersen

But Baby, It Feels Like Love by @callsign-denmark for @ mp0625

Chicago Hawks

Teuvo Teravainen

I Think I Dreamed You Into Life by @kurlyteuvo for @ lila-rose

Colorado Avalanche

Nathan MacKinnon

hide the sun by @ohmyeyesmyeyes for @ wyattjohnston

Edmonton Oilers

Connor McDavid

i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet by @offside-the-lines for @ hiding-from-reality-56

Leon Draisaitl

… but you're going to by @senditcolton for @ thewintersoldierdisaster

Blue Hair and Pronouns by @hiding-from-reality-56 for @ nhl-stories

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

always attract by @dunnerlars for @ sc0tters

truth or dare by @boqvistsbabe for @ ohmyeyesmyeyes

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

four weddings and a funeral by @thewintersoldierdisaster for @ prettytoxicrevolver

Juraj Slafkovsky

Summer Vacation by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ lam-ila

New Jersey Devils

Dawson Mercer

Baseball and Love by @lam-ila for @ hischier-papaya

Jack Hughes

CHASING YES by @puckology101 for @ tonsypep

Nico Hischier

home is just another word for you by @fallinallincurls for @ puckology101

felt like magic by @laurenairay for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

good luck, babe by @nol-pat for @ fallinallincurls

turbulent by @wyattjohnston for @ dunnerlars

walked in and dream came trued it for ya by @gravestrain for @ nol-pat

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

First Time Feeling by @huuuuughes for @ ahockeywrites

truth or dare by @dunnerlars for @ writingonleaves

Matt Martin

I can't help it if I like it by @laurenairay for @ comphy-and-cozy

New York Rangers

Alexis Lafreniere

Romance in The Hamptons by @lifeofpriya for @ wildrangers

Matt Rempe

MEDICINE by @lila-rose for @ 2 manytabsopen

Pittsburgh Penguins

Anthony Beauvillier

one night standards by @comphy-and-cozy for @ offsidethelines

Tattoos of You by @bqstqnbruin for @ senditcolton

Ryan Graves

The First Time by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ gravestrain

Seattle Kraken

Philipp Grubauer

Pfirsich by @mp0625 for @ huuuuughes

Toronto Maple Leafs

Joseph Woll

sunset by @hischier-papaya for @ lifeofpriya

William Nylander

I Wish You Would by @wildrangers for @ typical-simplelove

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

somehow still stuck on you by @matthewtkachuk for @ boqvistsbabe

walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walking to by @tonyspep for @ laurenairay

if the person you wrote for hasn’t read and reblogged your fic, please tell me.

i only tag the person who wrote the fic as there are limited tags.

[crazy-dark-rainbow]

GrimmIchi - cats, rain, Ichigo's warm body

Cats. I can't think of Grimmjow and not think of cats at the same time. I always love his cat attitude in fanfic. I imagine Grimmjow likes cats. (I'm sure of it and not even Mugetsu can convince me otherwise.)

Maybe Ichigo and Grimmjow were walking somewhere, maybe after a fight, maybe after a Hollow hunt? Maybe they were walking from somewhere. And they heard a quiet meow in an alleyway? Grimmjow has great hearing, he heard the meow and found a small, frozen kitten. Maybe the kitten is tiny and lonely. Grimmjow thinks he has no heart, but when he sees this kitten he feels a tug in his belly hole and feels sympathy? Maybe the kitten feels that Grimmjow is a cat and immediately runs up to him and grabs his hand and demands to be petted. Maybe Ichigo is barely holding back a nosebleed at the sweet sight? The rain is getting heavier but they both can't leave him here. Grimmjow can't leave him here. He takes the small kitten in his hand and hands it to Ichigo. "Your human body is warmer." Ichigo blushes like a strawberry but takes the kitten and hides it behind his jacket. Grimmjow holds a parallax over them and they go to Ichigo's house. Close together, with a quietly purring kitten.

Or… Grimmjow doesn't have a mask, so maybe it's an AU where there's no Shinigami and Hollow, and they're humans. Maybe Grimm is a "boy with problems", he has a tattoo by his eyes and a lot of others on his body. Maybe he fights on a rung, maybe he's a musician. Maybe he knows Ichigo, an English student, and they sometimes spend time together, even though people say they're from completely different backgrounds. Maybe Grimmjow likes cats and when they find a kitten he doesn't want his "image" to suffer and gives the cat to Ichigo. Ichigo thinks Grimmjow is cute with a blush. Or maybe it's something else…

Or in other words… After a terrible day, Grimm returns home. There is a terrible downpour, water flowing in rivers along the street. Suddenly, in the rain, he hears an angry voice. By the river, a small kitten meows mournfully as a young boy with fiery red hair takes it down from the tree. Gimmjow mutters quietly "crazy", but just then the wind blows and tugs at the red hair and he sees the freckled face of the Cat Rescuer. And he fell in love. He comes closer and gives Ichigo an umbrella and head. Grimmjow later walks him home and that's how their story begins. Theirs and the Panther.

Or maybe another way: Grimmjow as an Arrancar doesn't know the human world. He lived in it, but he doesn't know it, he doesn't remember. Sometimes it frustrates him terribly. But he remembers the cat. In his fragmentary memories, you can see a gray cat. Maybe that's why the only bearable and noteworthy thing in the human world are cats. And Ichigo, but cats are better because they don't talk as much as Berry.

Grimmjow may not want everyone to know he likes cats. Maybe he trusts Ichigo not to tell anyone, Berry isn't like that. It's easier to open up to him.

❗️ FANART Autor: ➡️batemeuma (link do deviantart)

[crispy-armpit]

♱ 𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖉'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ♱

Welcome to my church.

My name is Adam, otherwise known as Father Greed. I am God's first creation, or as you mortals call it, the first human.

I am a being that is neither man nor animal. I am both serpent and a child of God- the deceiver to have granted Eve the forbidden fruit.

Evil or not, I am merely a convoy. I guide you towards the crossroads of love and obsession, and you shall choose how the tale goes.

So, I must ask you...

Which path will you venture down?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Rockstar (he/him)

General: a mysterious, world-renown superstar with a rough past. he writes his own songs and is the frontman of the band, Ares. he is an 'emotional omnivore'/overwhelmer, obsessive, masochist-sadist yandere.

Physical: 6'5/195 cm tall, tattooed & toned body, 6 ear piercings, 4 facial piercings, pair of nipple piercings, 5 genital piercings (yeah..), 9 inches

Part 1 Part 2

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Jock (he/him)

General: the star quarterback of your college's rugby team, the Panthers. he is extremely influential in the school & real world. he is an overprotective & clingy yandere.

Physical: 6'0/183 cm, shoulder-length hair when untied, slim-toned body with a few scars, 7 inches

One shot

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Sea God (he/she/they)

General: an ancient ocean deity whose origins are unknown. they are said to be the god of raging tides and safe travels, and have the ability to transform between any gender (prefers male form). they are under an ancient curse. they are a sadistic, possessive, self-indulgent, eliminator yandere.

Physical: 9'7/292 cm, very big muscle body, sparkly skin like a pearl, 18 inches (he has 2 of them..)

Oneshot

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Yandere Secret Agent (he/they)

General: a secret agent working for a mysterious government organisation specialising in supernatural threats. he is their most trusted employee. they are a cold-hearted, stalker, visceral yandere.

Physical: 5'10/178 cm, 1 facial piercing +1 tongue + 1 earing (there's a backstory i swear), slim-fit scarred body, 7.5 inches

Oneshot

Related Asks & Artworks

All

2k Special (Deimos & Liam Poly + art) reacting to y/n splitting watermelon with thighs ethnicities? chubby reader

Deimos

What he sounds like Carving your full name (art) Biting + head pats (art)

Liam

The morning after (art) Liam with a dominant reader (art) gyatt (art)

[zooophagous]

My tattoo artist tried something different with this colorful panther head and lined it in purple. I really like the luminous effect but only time will tell if it holds up well.

[callsignmarz]

MDNI | 18+ | König x Reader

TW: mentions of alcohol, mild language, misplaced anger, mature scene.

“He makes you jealous.”

König knew the type of woman he married.

Especially, after a heated argument.

There at the end of the bar, you downed the last few sips of your second cosmo, reminiscing on the stupid fight you just had outside, moments ago.

“Want another?” The bartender customarily asked as he draped a hand rag over his shoulder.

You had a good buzz going.

Although, you didn’t need to go over your limit. The sober mask comes on as you pushed the empty glass away with your fingertips.

“No, I’m okay. But, just incase I change my mind; Keep my tab open.”

“What about your big fella and his friend?”

Your eyes thinned at the bartenders question with confusion quickly morphing into raw ire as you swiveled around to see König sitting at a booth with an arm purposely wrapped around some red headed bimbo.

Let the games begin, motherfucker.

In a matter of seconds, you pounced from the bar stool and like a black panther in the shadows, you blended in with the sea of bodies, stalking and observing their interactions from afar.

As a former mercenary yourself, patience became your most reliable source.

Feeling a familiar pair of eyes burning a hole into him, König swiftly turned his attention to the crowded bar, leisurely scouting until his gaze met yours.

His lips curl into a cocky smirk as he pulls the woman closer to him, triggering you to fly into a jealous rage.

Maneuvering through the horde of drunks, you wantonly drag over a nearby chair once you finally approached the two, persistently planting yourself uncomfortably close to the woman.

“Neue Freunde finden, mein Liebe? (Making new friends, my love?)” You asked König while your eyes fixate on the red haired woman, maintaining a toothy grin.

“Ja, das glaube ich. (Yeah, I guess I am.)”

The red head’s brows crease together, feeling quite uneasy.

“I’m sorry, König. Do you know her?” She questions as she leans closer into König, hoping he would shield her from your piercing watch and you fight the maniacal urges that arise.

By the befuddling look on the poor girl’s face and her accent was a dead give away…she was an American.

Regardless. She had no place flirting with König and the thought of her sharing the same oxygen as him, slowly boiled your blood to a dangerous temperature.

“Ich schwöre bei Gott, wenn du ihn berührst...(I swear to God, if you touch him)” Your tone daintly dips to a menacing level, one that König immediately recognizes.

The smug expression on König’s face becomes one of wary. “My apologies, Schatz. This here is my lovely wife, Y/N. She thinks you’re very pretty.” He blatantly lies through his teeth.

“Y-Your wife?”

The woman blinks a few times, bewildered by how she missed all the crucial signs.

Her eyes drop to your left hand, where a diamond ring would be, but instead there was a small calligraphy tattoo, engraved in your skin that read:

“Til Death.”

“Hat deine Hure einen Namen, König? (Does your whore have a name?)”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead König reached over to grab the glass of bourbon that sat on the table, taking a quick swig of it while watching the tension build as you continued to inspect his new “friend.”

Your eyes flit over to him with impending glare, which light a fire under his ass to give an answer.

“Victoria.” He said dully, avoiding all eye contact.

A seed of suspicion was ready to plant itself as König had a small habit of fabricating to avoid conflict. But, the way her neck almost snapped at the name, convinced you otherwise and your expression softens.

“gefällt sie dir?” (Do you like her?)

“Y/N, es ist nicht-” (Y/N, it’s not-)

Swiftly rising to your feet and cutting off his excuse, you walk your way around the table to settle comfortably in your husband’s lap, wedging yourself between the two with your eyes studiously on Victoria.

Despite your calm and relaxed nature, the air surrounding held underlying tension with a dicey edge to it.

Victoria’s eyes shift frantically between you and König, hoping that she can escape the situation without any causing any more problems.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t know you were married. I just assumed you were single.”

“Du hast falsch gedacht, Schlampe. Ich wette, die dumme Schlampe erkennt nicht einmal, was für eine Frau ich bin.(You thought wrong, bitch. I bet that stupid bitch doesn’t even realize what kind of woman I am.)” You added with a humorless laugh, confusing Victoria even more.

“What did she say?”

“Don’t look at my husband, look at me.”

In response to your command, König’s arm causally wraps itself around your waist, not to be endearing but to restrain you if things go suddenly left.

“Are you having fun with König, Victoria?”

Victoria shivers at the piercing tone of your question.

“No, of course not.”

“No? So are you telling me that he wasn’t good enough to entertain you?” You scoffed in disbelief and instinctively König’s grip tightens around your waist, fully aware of the game your about to play.

[saintbleeding]

You know what you have to do now. (write the jg au for it)

Gerry doesn’t really like nerds, as a rule.

Gerry also doesn’t really like rules.

So you see the problem.

Like, okay, obviously if the rules fall within “safe and sanitary tattooing practices” then they’re inviolable, but if the rules are the only things stopping him from admitting he’s crushing a little bit on the dweeby audio engineer who works next door, then they were made to be broken.

The guy’s got a nice voice, even if he does dress like a divorced geography teacher. Mind you, Gerry’s only heard his voice in two contexts: sometimes, snatches of it drifting sonorously through the wall—which doesn’t bode well for the supposed soundproofing—as he… records? Rehearses? Whatever it is an archival audio engineer does.

Oh, and other times, while the guy is smoking out the front on his break, he’ll be on the phone, either with this treacly, measured tone that drips customer service, or in a much more genuine and irritated one, seemingly complaining about whoever he’s got to use the fake voice on. The duality of nerd, Gerry sometimes thinks, and smiles to himself as he works. It’s like there’s a silent, unacknowledged solidarity between them—strangers, but near enough that they can share the thought that people are a right bunch of dickheads.

It’s comfy. Companionable.

Easier than the mess of trying to do anything mental like having a conversation. He might be a wanker. He might be a Tory. Not worth the risk.

Or, rather, not till Sasha comes in one day. Gerry knows her. She’s come in more often as a hand-holder for her mates who are getting their first tats, but he’s worked on her once or twice too. On this day—on her lunch break, she says, but tells Gerry not to rush, she doesn’t mind being late back—she’s come in for text on her inner forearm. I am here, it’s going to say, in all-caps, with an arrow pointing up the arm, towards her. Gerry asks, genuinely curious, what it means.

“Easy to get lost,” she says. “‘Specially in my job. So it’s kind of a compass.”

Cool.

Gerry thinks that’s cool.

So they get to work on it. It’s not exactly painstaking, but given she said so, he takes his time on it. Lot of straight lines.

“Do you talk to Jon much?” Sasha says out of the blue.

“Who’s Jon?” Gerry says, without looking up.

“Oh! Works in the studio, next door?”

Gerry smiles without meaning to. “Oh, Mr A-Levels-History? Nah, haven’t had a chance.”

Sasha turns her head, sniggering. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

They lapse back into silence for a bit.

“Friend of yours?” Gerry asks breezily after what he sincerely hopes isn’t an awkwardly timed pause.

“Mm. Sort of,” Sasha says, in the same tone someone might insist they’re sort of friends with a panther. “He does a lot of recording for my company, and I’m usually the one who brings him our documents. He’s nicer than he looks.”

Gerry’s smile grows. “Doesn’t seem all that chatty.”

Sasha grins back. “Get him complaining and you won’t be able to shut him up.”

Gerry nods thoughtfully, and then the conversation drifts away from the topic.

But that evening, as he’s about to go, the nerd—sorry, Jon, apparently—is standing out the front, smoking, but not on the phone.

Gerry locks the door, pockets his keys, and turns around to face him in a way he hopes doesn’t look too orchestrated.

“Oh,” he says, “Could I bum one?”

Jon looks up like he’s surprised to remember he’s still on the physical plane, then exhales.

“Um,” he says, “Uh. Yes.”

He fumbles in his coat for a second, then pulls out his carton, which he hands over, looking away with a frown. Gerry takes a cigarette and puts it between his lips. When Jon takes the carton back, Gerry mimes for a light, and unthinkingly, rather than handing it over, Jon produces a zippo from somewhere and ignites it, holding it to the tip of Gerry’s smoke.

Not that Gerry is complaining about this, obviously. It gives him ample excuse to really properly look at Jon’s face for the first time. Stubbly chin, lines beneath his eyes and in the corners of his mouth, glasses in need of a polish. Their eyes meet, and Jon smiles awkwardly.

It’s right about then that Gerry decides fuck the rules, he’s got a crush.

“Long day?” he asks as Jon turns away, taking a drag of his own smoke.

“They’re all long,” Jon says wearily, then clears his throat. “I—mm. Yeah. Yes, you could say that.”

“And here I thought archiving reports from weird faceless organisations would be a barrel of laughs.”

Jon gives him a weird, silent look.

Classic bloody Gerry.

“Oh,” he continues, glancing away. “Um, you know Sasha? She, uh, talks about work a lot.”

When he dares to glance back, Jon is nodding, and if he’s still perturbed, he’s going to efforts not to look it.

“Friend of yours?” Jon asks.

Gerry smiles. “Sort of, yeah.”

They smoke in silence for a minute.

“I’m Jon, by the way,” Jon says, and Gerry nearly says I know, until he remembers what a weird fucking response that would be.

“Gerard,” he says instead, then, after a second, “Um, Gerry. I’m Gerry.”

They don’t shake hands.

“Strange,” Jon says, “That you spend all day jabbing people with needles, and I’m still hard-pressed to convince myself that my work is less violent.”

Gerry laughs. “How violent can things get in a recording studio, exactly?”

Jon smirks ruefully. “You might be surprised.”

Oh, cool, so he’s a freak. That’s kind of a huge relief.

“Anyway,” Gerry says, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve only ever had, like, three people pass out, so I’m doing pretty well. I’m basically a pacifist of tattooing.”

“You deserve the Need-el Peace Prize,” Jon says, then immediately cringes. “Sorry. Sorry. Christ, I tried to do something with needle and Nobel. Jesus Christ.”

Gerry laughs anyway.

“Not my finest work,” Jon concludes, lifting his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Eh, it’s fine. You’ll just have to keep trying.”

Jon gives a bemused smile, bending to butt out his cigarette on the concrete.

“I suppose I will,” he says, and straightens his coat. “In the meantime, though, I’ve got some life choices to go home and question.”

They smile, and Gerry instantly prefers the kind of companionable solidarity the two of them share when they have actually had a conversation.

“Nice to meet you, Jon,” Gerry says.

“Likewise,” Jon replies, then he turns and goes.

Gerry watches him till he’s out of sight, and as he walks home alone that night, he nails down the preference list.

He likes nerds a lot more than he likes rules.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Amendments II: The Panther and the Duckling - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[Part 1]

[vulgar language, canon-typical violence]

SUMMARY: The moment comes when Kaz gives you the opportunity to make amendments for the two thugs that started a fight at his club. He can only nod in appreciation at the mayhem you effortlessly cause.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.2k

[Grishaverse-inspired playlist]

Kaz didn’t quite know what to expect when walking towards your place. Would it be filled with riches? Or instead, kept plain and simple? How golden is the Golden Panther’s lair?

Despite having no expectations, he’s pretty surprised to see the interior of Albasten Vlam Casino. Creme and crimson furnishing along with gold chandeliers and brackets make the venue appear exclusive. A soft jazz tune carries through the venue, skilful hands of the pianist creating a neverending, atonal melody. The guests are also nothing short of lavish, losing in one game the same amount of money some citizens of Ketterdam earn in three months' time. It seems as though the entrance to the Albasten Vlam is a doorway into another realm, where poverty and disease are about as real as the boogeyman under a child’s bed.

Two Fjerdans, each roughly the size of a grange, eye Kaz suspiciously as he walks through the spacious halls. His common elegance looks almost offensive among the million-Kruge suits of the casino’s clientele. Even if he wasn’t a thief, the guards would still expect him to dabble in thievery - simply because of the way he looks compared to the other patrons.

Walking up short stairs and turning into backrooms and staff-only corridors, Kaz knows that he’s expected. Otherwise, why is no one stopping him? In fact, most of the employees don’t seem to pay him much mind.

The long hall decorated with statues and paintings ends in a two-wing pair of doors almost completely covered by the stocky bodies of bodyguards. One of them, covered in tattoos of Zemenian origin, laughs when Kaz approaches the door.

“Oi, boys!” the tattooed man yells to someone behind Kaz. He speaks with a heavy accent. “Would you look at this! Twee’y wans in.”

Kaz hears two sets of footsteps behind him. They’re not distinctively loud, those people aren’t carrying weapons.

“I came to speak with the Golden Panther,” Kaz states, unaffected.

“Like many did before ya and many will do after,” the guard answers. “Wha’eve’ ya have to say to me Boss, ya can say to me, Twee’y.”

“Very well,” Kaz says quietly. “I’m here to discuss the repayment of Panther’s debt for causing a fight in my club.”

The tattooed man gives his friend, who looks like his archenemy is the Sun, a meaningful look.  “Keep an eye on the lad, I’ll check in with Boss.” He goes to open the door but before he walks into your office, he makes sure to give Kaz the most annoyed expression a face can make.

A few minutes go by when no one makes a sound. The sickly pale guard barely blinks, keeping his watchful, grey eyes on Brekker. Whoever followed Kaz is still standing a few paces behind him, also remaining suspiciously quiet.

Kaz hates this feeling. He has to put his faith in your apparent reliability. Some people say that ‘there’s no honour among thieves’ and perhaps they’re right. But what honour could there be between a panther and a crow? Isn’t the only thing they can honour Mother Nature? The food chain?

Right when Kaz is about to give in to his fatalistic thoughts, the door opens once again and the tattooed man emerges from the room. His lips are kept in a thin line. The man appears to be dissatisfied with what he had learned but alas, there is nothing he can do about it.

“Today’s ya lucky day, Twee’y,” he speaks up, his voice bitter. “Pop in and behave yaself.”

Without another word, Kaz pushes past the tattooed guard and into the room.

Your office is furnished in a similar style as the rest of the casino: creme, crimson and gold. The first thing that Kaz notices, and pretty much anyone who walks in, is the taxidermied panther head hanging on the wall behind you. The motif of a panther is quite prevalent as the legs of your desk are also carved to resemble pouncing and roaring panthers.

Bright ringing chimes in his ears. He turns his head to the side only to notice a frail woman, if she is even old enough to be called that, typing away on a typewriter. Judging by the stack of papers next to her, she’s rewriting your letters and notes. Kaz makes a note of her clothing: the pigeon blue barely fits the interior design but the quality of the material and craftsmanship looks far too expensive for a typist. 

“Kaz Brekker in the fucking flesh,” you say aloud. His attention is once again focused on you. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to show up in person.”

“An opportunity has arisen for you to repay me.”

“Tell me.” Your voice sounds disinterested as you look back down at whatever document you are signing. Kaz puts his gloved hand on the back of the chair in front of your desk but you’re quick to shut him down. “Nah, don’t sit,” you say without looking up.

It’s all a gimmick, he thinks, but she has the means to uphold it. The skill and power to make it real.

For a moment he considered sitting down against your will simply out of spite but he’s heard enough stories to not get in your bad books just to prove a point. Golden Panther is a name even Pekka Rollins would say with fear in his voice. Kaz has seen the damage you’ve done to Pekka - damage that even his title of “The King of the Barell” can not repair.

“I’m planning a job and I need a distraction,” Kaz explains. “There’s a brewery in town. Belongs to a man known as Magnus Molders. Your job is to destroy his business, thus drawing the Stadwatch away from me and my Crows.”

With a devilish smile on your face, you look up from the document and set your pen aside. “And what did little Maggie-boy do to you, Dirtyhands?”

“That is none of your concern.”

You give him a knowing nod.

“So, kill two birds with one stone,” you sum up. “Practical, effective, sends a message. Solid 6 out of 10. Lacking in the finesse department.” Half-jokingly, you shake your head with an expression of disappointment.

“I’m not interested in your appraisal,” Kaz retorts. “Magnus Molders’s brewery in two days' time. That’s your assignment if you want your debt erased.”

A scoff flies past your lips. “I’m rude, not stupid, Brekker,” you drone your words. “I’ll be there. Stadwatch won’t even catch a sniff of you. Here, let me walk you out.”

You stand up from your desk, grabbing the cane with the panther's head leaning against it. Although Kaz doesn’t want to admit it, hiding a blade inside the cane is an idea that has been growing on him. Practical, effective, sends a message, he hears your voice in his thoughts. 

Kaz follows you out and is immediately met with an obvious change of behaviour in your employees. The guards suddenly stand uncomfortably straight, pushing their chests out. Now, Brekker can take a look at the two men who had followed him up to your office. They both look like chimney sweepers or shoe shiners, the type of lanky young men no one pays attention to in a crowd. People of this sort tend to be overlooked enough to listen in on any and every hot scoop or invited into people’s homes and no one ever checks whether they’re not helping themselves to the expensive belongings of the homeowners.

“I want Sorokin and Evander with me,” you order. “They started this shit and I will do my damn best to make sure they end this.”

“Yes, Boss,” the tattooed man hurriedly answers and bows his head slightly. He’s about to march away when you ask him one more thing:

 “And bring the Duckling.”

The tattooed man’s lips turn into a devilish grin. “Aye, Boss,” he drones the words.

“The Duckling?” Kaz repeats in a questioning manner.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise now, would we?” you answer in an irritatingly patronizing tone. “It’s very me.”

Explosions and mayhem? Kaz thinks to himself. But then he realizes it doesn’t quite matter - if this “Duckling” lives up to your known style of dealing with things, he’s going to get one hell of a distraction.

Magnus Molders rushes out of his brewery. He didn’t even have the time to button up his coat. The cold, rainy wind tugs at his thin shirt and dishevelled hair.

He gasps in surprise. His employee, a redhead boy with a lisp, told the truth: there’s the Golden Panther waiting for him on the circular driveway in front of the brewery. You’re leaning against the backdoor of the steel carriage, finishing a hand-rolled cigarette.

“I’d say ‘good morning’ but it’s more of a shitty noon, you know?” you speak up. With a flick of your fingers, you throw the finished smoke under the brewmaster’s shoes.

Nervous, Magnus clenches his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. His lips tighten into a thin, white line.

“What…” his voice trembles. Magnus clears his throat. “What do ya want, Panther?”

“A lot of things,” you answer. “But I don’t suppose you sell lavender cream puffs or pistachio croissants, do you?”

“No, I-” he hangs his voice when he sees you put your hand up.

“That was a rhetorical question,” you spit out.

“So,” he continues, “What brings ya here?”

You took a small step towards him. “At first, I wanted to talk to you. You know like proper adults. But then I remembered I don’t speak little bitch.”

Magnus clenches his jaw. His eyes begin to burn with anger, fear and humiliation. Like a wounded animal, he ounces when threatened.

“Yer mad, woman, is what ya are!” he screams. A few distant passers-by look towards him and you. They scurry away, sensing immediate danger. “I’ve no bad blood with ya. What’s all this for?!”

With a sad expression on your face, you shake your head disapprovingly. “Because you’re a cunt.”

You hit the steel door of the carriage with your fist, the banging ringing in your ears.

“Duckling?” Jesper repeats confused. Kaz only nods along, an absent expression on his face. “What in Hell is-...” he hangs his voice when he notices a metallic shine in the darkness of the steel carriage. “Oh. Oh, that’s proper mental.”

Without a warning, the massive Gatling gun hidden in the cab begins shooting. Bullets faster than blinking eyes pierce the air, thousands in a second, destroying the brewery. As you ordered before, Sorokin is the one aiming and firing, his whole body trembling from the recoil of the machine gun. Evander, the other man responsible for the fight, is holding the casings with the bullets and making sure the Gatling doesn’t seize up.

After barely a few minutes, although they felt like hours, the brewery building looks like one of the kerchen cheeses that have more holes than actual cheese. Magnus Molders is catching his raspy breath as he tries to stop the bleeding in his left arm. Most of his white shirt is crimson now. Blood is covering the circular driveway, red mixing with greyish rainwater in puddles only to turn into a black, thick liquid. It’s hard to say what happened to his employees back at the brewery but you couldn’t care less. “Bad place, bad time” as some people say.

The streets are awfully quiet but not for long: galloping horses are heard in the distance. A bell begins to ring feverishly. It’s the Stadwatch, always arriving when the party’s already over.

When Kaz gets back into his office in the late evening hours, he’s met with something he should have expected - you’re sitting in his chair, legs propped up on his desk. Although it’s supposed to come off as arrogant, he notices that you’ve stacked his papers, so that your shoes don’t actually damage them. Strangely nice for someone who has no qualms about shooting up a random brewery.

“What are you doing here?” he asks angrily.

You look at your pocket watch. “Took you long enough. I was beginning to think you’ve lost your way.” You take your legs off his desk and stand up. “I should probably ask whether you’re satisfied with my service but I find myself unable to care for your opinion.”

“Why’d you come here, then?” he retorts swiftly.

“Business etiquette, I guess?” You shrug. “Shake hands, erase the red from the ledger and go our separate ways, admiring each other’s achievements from a safe distance.”

Kaz slightly squints his eyes. By the way he’s clenching his jaw, you can tell he’s angry. He does accept your handshake but keeps the courtesy short and stern. Professional, one might say.

“And yet I feel compelled to give you my appraisal." His tone is intense, filled with violent emotions kept under control with the last bits of his self-control. "You’re like a fly that keeps buzzing but keeps escaping the swat. Infuriating.”

A humourless chuckle erupts in your throat. “You might want to check that with the board of directors.” Before he has any time to react, you pat his thigh, indecently close to his groin, before walking past him and out of the room. At first, he’s angry, blood boiling in his veins and begging him to put you in your place, demand respect in the only way people like you and him understand. But then Kaz grows strangely bashful as he realises that there might be some truth in your words.

___

Guys, I promise I'm not actually dead T_T Been writing original stuff and binging The Mortal Instruments (the Netflix show is so bad it's actually fun...?)

Tagging people who were interested in part 2: @queenkalico @kplatzman @sunset-kisses-vibes @zeeader

[insomniumstella]

endlessly 

shuri x fem!reader 

summary: though Wakanda in December is breathtaking and Shuri has nothing against y/n enjoying the view, resting without her girl by her side has been difficult lately. 

warnings: smut, tiniest bits of angst 

word count: 1,439

author’s note: i gave in — Oh, Shuri, the things you do to me. i didn’t realize how difficult and almost terrifying it’d be to write for Shuri, but i’m glad i gave it a shot. i am drinking wine as i type this, so here’s to the first of, hopefully many, Shuri fics

“Sthandwa,” Shuri’s honeyed voice was barely a whisper in the shadows, drowned out by the comforting noises of the midnight wind, “should I wait for you?” She questioned, slowly coming to approach her girlfriend. Her tone held a note of banter.

The girl stayed silent for a second; Shuri was to appear at the lab in the morning, but she had all the time in the world. Besides, Wakanda in December had been nothing short of breathtaking — she wanted to relish in the impressive skyline and the brightly shining stars that the view from her balcony offered.

“I suppose you shouldn’t.” A soft chuckle slipped past y/n’s lips once she decided upon speaking. “Go rest.” It was more of a plead than a suggestion. She’d come to bed immediately if only Shuri asked directly, but the night felt too calm to let go of.

The queen of Wakanda smiled, sneaking tattooed hands around her waist. “No,” she placed a gentle kiss on y/n’s neck, her lean fingers caressing a patch of exposed skin just above her lover’s hipbones, “I cannot rest without my girl.” Shuri slyly admitted.

Even if my girl were words she’s heard a million times before, my girl were words she craved to hear a million times over. It was inevitable; y/n couldn’t stop herself from falling for the princess once again. Endlessly and hopelessly in love.

A comforting silence had fallen between the two as Shuri placed her head on y/n’s shoulder, intertwining their fingers together. Though beautiful, the night was not as special as the serene moment the couple had the pleasure of sharing. Without threats of battle looming in the shadows, the air in Wakanda seemed lighter — different somehow. At last, the people of Wakanda had appeared at peace too, and it had been all the princess could ever ask for.

Princess, y/n thought with a heavy heart, reminiscing about the days when the simple title had used to fit. Except times had not been simple lately and Shuri’s princess title was a habit too difficult to break. Trusting her as the queen of Wakanda had been easy. It was accepting Ramonda as a permanent memory that had been too painful for both of the girls to bear. The future had become blurry.

“Sthandwa,” y/n began speaking, unsure of what it was exactly she wanted to say, “I would die each night for you, just as the moon does for the sun if it meant you would be happy. I’d climb the tallest mountains. Bast, I’d burn the world down to see you smile.” She traced Shuri’s tattoos with her thumb. “The black panther lives and when she fights, I’ll be right beside her.”

She didn’t turn to face her, but Shuri knew her girlfriend well enough to sense the anxiety painting y/n’s gaze. It was eerie to live in times of unpredictable dangers and though she couldn’t lessen her fear, Shuri had means of comforting her girl; means of comforting herself as well.

“I need you.” She whispered and took a step back, pulling y/n in her direction. “The night’s air will soon turn freezing.”

The woman didn’t protest, for she had no reason or energy to, allowing Shuri to whisk her away from the balcony and into their shared bedroom. Neither dared to break the silence that had overtaken the space when their bodies eventually hit the silky soft sheets.

The lonely bed had been solely Shuri’s until a few year ago, when the princess had opened her heart to y/n, permitting access to everything and anything that had used to be off-limits, including the ridiculous amounts of pillows resting over the covers. They laid on the floor now, not that the couple seemed to care. In fact, they were too infatuated with each other to notice anything other than the passionate touches and the way it raised goosebumps along their skin.

Shuri’s lips collided with y/n’s, delicately dancing together. The girl was content with anything the queen was willing to give, yet it didn’t mean she didn’t want more. She longed for Shuri’s hands to explore her body and touch her in places other people could never touch. Burned for the queen’s fingers to slide lower, much lower, as she pulled her closer to seal yet another kiss. Her fingers eagerly slid underneath Shuri’s black satin blouse to explore every inch of skin she could reach while laying on her back. 

“I need you.” She repeated Shuri’s earlier words, a different undertone coaxing the expression. “Please.” 

The scientist took her sweet time rolling over, placing her thighs on either side of y/n’s. “Patience is a virtue.” A light smirk clouded her smile as she placed light pecks on her neck, collarbones, and chest. 

“Patience is a virtue I very much do not have,” she whined, “and very much do not currently care about implementing.”

The queen snickered, moving to place her lips on her inner thighs. “The universe is not as beautiful as you are.” She pushed the hem of y/n’s dress upwards, weaving her finger underneath her underwear and moved it to the side for better access to her lover’s dripping core. “Tell me what you want. Allow me to make tonight be about you.”

The girl whimpered, whether in protest of agreement, the queen wasn’t sure, continuing to place soft pecks on the skin of her lover’s inner thighs.  

“I want your lips on my clit.” She admitted without shame, eyes locked with Shuri's. 

Shuri silently granted her wish, wrapping a pair of perfect lips around y/n’s bud. Though she tried to appear calm and collected, a moan left y/n’s mouth as soon as Shuri’s tongue made contact with her pussy. Shuri didn’t hesitate to sink two fingers into y/n, purring from satisfaction when she let out a high-pitched whine.

The queen sucked on her clit for a second before drawing 8-figures with her tongue. She lapped at her without remorse, loving the way y/n tasted. Her partner’s taste was divine; the sweetest of honey.

“Baby,” she moaned, grabbing a handful of Shuri’s curls. It was as all y/n could manage as the woman replaced her fingers with her tongue, hitting a sensitive spot deep inside her, and began circling y/n’s clit with her thumb. 

“No.” Shuri suddenly stopped. “I want your eyes on me,” she murmured into her skin, her fingers digging deep into y/n’s hips and waistline. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

Shuri’s hold on her body brought the best kind of pain — a promise of love markings she’d proudly wear when the sun awoke in the early hours of morning. “You are, princess.”

“Good girl.” She continued her earlier movement when y/n lazily opened her eyes. The queen’s own irises had been saturated with drunken lust.

The only thought she could muster was upholding an unspoken promise of bringing her the most orgasmic of pleasure and when y/n tugged on her curls to bring Shuri closer, it was made evident that she had been nearing towards the edge, seconds away from falling over. She moaned and whined, her legs shaking from the intensity of it all.

“I’m clo- “ the woman attempted to speak, but wasn’t able to finish the sentence as her orgasm took over, the feeling so powerful, y/n could not focus on anything other than the moment. For the first time in a while, she was truly in the present, with the past and the future blurring into burdens for another time.

“Make a mess on my face, honey.” Shuri smiled proudly before kissing, sucking, and licking y/n’s clit. Three of her fingers began sliding in and out of y/n’s slit, as she needed to feel her lover squeeze around her digits once more. “I love you. Only Bast knows the things I’d do for you.” She admitted, removing her body from y/n’s and getting up to find a towel.

Shuri had almost disappeared into their bathroom when y/n called out after her, “remember when you refused to share your bubble tea the last time we visited New York City?” She chuckled, fighting off sleep.

“No.” Shuri cocked her head to the side after she emerged from the bathroom minutes later. “That was different.” She deflected, her strong accent glazing her playful words.

“I love you.” She whispered, making a mental note to eat Shuri out for breakfast the next day. The girl was balancing on a thin line between sleep and awareness, barely hearing what Shuri had to say.

“I love you.” Shuri repeated once y/n let go, allowing slumber to whisk her away. “Endlessly and hopelessly.”

[11vr1]

Morning ⭒ Shuri Udaku

Synopsis › A brief look into a rare morning waking up with Queen Shuri. 

Pairing › Shuri x Singer! Fem Reader

Inspo › “Morning” - Teyana Taylor, Kehlani

Includes › Fluff, non-sexual nudity, non-sexual intimacy, they in love in love, tiny bit of insecurity, Shuri not taking care of herself, touch, skin to skin, they have good hygiene, reader is lazy, singer!reader

P.S. ›  I know the song is absolutely filthy and this is not but I’ve never written smut. Even this was a stretch for me. 

P.S.S. › This is the first fic I've ever posted. Pls, be nice to ya girl. She’s sensitive but loves any kind of feedback. Let me know how you feel about these two. They might become a little series.

You felt a warm pair of lips press tenderly against your skin, traveling along your arm, inching towards your sleeping face. The sun streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows, flooding the queen’s quarters with the white gold of its light. Shuri was always up and ready to greet the day before you. “Morning has arrived, sthandwa wami,” the raspy voice of your lover roused you from your rest. My love. 

“Tell it to go away,” you mumbled, shuffling underneath the satin sheets, finding warmth in her embrace. There was no place you’d rather be than in her arms. Behind closed doors, Shuri was yours and yours alone. Her title didn’t follow her here. During moments like this, she was simply a woman trying to wake her girlfriend. 

Shuri grazed the tips of her fingers across the flesh of your thigh. Her touch left a trail of fire in its wake. She slipped under the band of your lace panties, quickly pulling and letting it snap. The smirk spread was sly as you jerked slightly. “It's past time we got up. Besides, my arm is going numb.” 

“Ow! Fine. Fine. I'm awake.” Finally, you relinquished her arm from your capture, sighing long and deep at the loss of your pillow. The queen chuckled as she untangled the rest of your limbs with no help from your limp body.

“Griot?” Shuri spoke to the empty air. 

“Good morning, your majesty.”

The covers fell from her body, displaying the sculpted bronze planes of her bare back. You sat up to admire the view. All those years of agonizing pining were worth it, you thought. “What's on the schedule today?” 

The disembodied AI listed both yours and the queen’s agenda. You planned a relaxing, stress free day in the studio for yourself. The queen on the other hand was expected by the elders. 

It took everything in you to leave the comfort of Shuri’s enormous sized bed and make the cold trek to the bathroom. You turned on the shower, periodically checking its temp then stripped the little clothing you had on. “Are you going to join me?” you asked, leaning back to peer through the open door to see her staring at her kimoyo beads. “I thought I was the slow one.” The water from the rain drip head cascaded down the length of your body, effectively chasing away the rest of your drowsiness. 

Two tattooed arms draped around your shoulders. “I am here.” The stealth of the Panther often took you by surprise. The feeling of Shuri’s touch against yours was indescribable. Nothing could compare. You’d hardly noticed the soft beat of your shared playlist began to play. 

She took it upon herself to lather shea body wash across your skin, talking sweet nothings in your ear while christening you with chaste kisses along the way. “Do you have time for lunch today?” you leaned back to gaze into the depths of her onyx eyes, your own hopeful.

“I will make time.” 

“Griot, don’t let her forget.” 

“I won't, miss.” 

“You don’t trust me?” she teased, tilting your head further back, leaving suds across your cheek. 

You turned around to face her, eyebrow raised. “Hhayi.” No. Your response was straight forward, yet remained light hearted. She was working herself ragged these days, barely taking time to rest. More than once you found her in the lab, lids heavy, back hunched uncomfortably over her work station. “I know you too well to leave you be. You stand me up, I'm coming to snatch your ass.” The running water did nothing to drown out your shared laughter. She knew you meant it. 

You grabbed Shuri’s soap and washed her in return down the valley of her breasts to the toned abs of her torso. Each stroke carried your love. “I'm serious, though. Take a break sometime today,” you added. Caring for her was an honor. Bast knew she wouldn’t if it were solely up to her. 

The Panther ceased your motions by grasping your hand in her own. “I promise.” She closed the already small distance between you, brushing the tip of your nose, “I appreciate your concern for me. I don't deserve—” 

You promptly shushed her with your own lips. Her taste was irresistible, uniquely Shuri’s. No one in Wakanda could get away with interrupting the queen except you. “None of that. You deserve plenty.” 

Her arms snaked around your waist, feeling your natural contours, finding a place within the slope of your neck. Heady breaths stuck to the droplets dancing on your skin. She stilled to cherish this moment, already beginning to dread having to part. “I'm just blessed to have you.” 

“And I you.” You gave her one last peck on the cheek before turning the shower off. “You’re ntomb’am. While you’re going out there to save the world or whatever, I’ll be here for you.” My girl. 

“The legendary Black Panther’s protector,” she laughed, guiding you out of the stand-in. “It has a nice ring to it. My enemies will fear you.” She might’ve thought it was funny, but you couldn’t find the humor. Shuri was your intombi, your girl. What you wouldn’t give for the promise of more sunshine-flavored mornings like these.

[frieschan]

QUERENCIA, chapter 1

(n.) where one feels home ; the place where you are your most authentic self

pairing - hybrid! ot7 x bunny hybrid! male! reader

genre - 18+, college au, hybrid au, fluff, eventual angst, eventual smut, humour

summary - you, a rabbit hybrid away from home to study, run into a group of surprisingly friendly and calm (also very attractive) predators who are a pack and live together suddenly run into your life like a bulldozer. the dull days of your life may turn into days of joy and laughter, or will the days turn into gloom and a sad everafter?

warnings (this chapter) - mentions of abuse and dark themes (nothing happened dont worry :)

word count - 1.9k

masterlist // next

In a world where the two kings of earth rule, animals and humans. Yet there is one group who lives in harmony among both, those to be HYBRIDS. The times have changed, through each cycle of seasons, each law against hybrids slowly faded away.

These days, hybrids were nothing new anymore, their rights the same as any other. Though, that didn’t change the views of certain people. The hybrid auction rings, the slavery, abuse, and bloodshed. It will forever stain the reputation of hybrids, though there will always be a light, a hope, a future for those who have the blood of animals running inside their veins. That will never change.. Never. As your mother always reminded you, where there is darkness, shall always there be light. For a world with no balance is a world unreal and not ours. 

You liked remembering your family. Though you did have a big family, your parents still managed to love and treat you all the same, raise you into aspiring and ambitious people. The only strange thing about your family being.. All of you were rabbit hybrids. You being the runt, though you weren’t even the youngest! Humans were also quite shallow when they compared you to family. Offering you the pity you never needed nor asked for. In life, each difficulty you receive is what you will need to persevere through. 

Already in your early 20s, in college and having amazing talent for ice skating and ballet. You adored the feeling of just how far you’ve made it, being able to keep up with your siblings. 

You shook your head from your thoughts, carrying on your walk to your ballet classes. You were particularly foggy-headed today mainly due to the fact that your studies ate up a portion of time meant for sleep. Taking a glance around, you noticed the familiar cafe shop that was only a few blocks away from your Ballet gym. Maybe a coffee wouldn’t hurt before your classes.

You walked into the shop, hearing the familiar jingle of the door chyme. You felt yourself relax at the smell of roasted coffee and the chatter of fellow customers. As you approach the cashier, jazz plays through the speakers while the cashier offers you a friendly grin.

“Welcome to Seoul Downtown Cafe! What could I get you today?” The cashier greeted you.

“Could I just get a Caffe mocha and a slice of oreo cake?” You assumed that today’s class would be a bit more intense since it was the weekend, many people having to make up for their missed classes on weekdays.

“Alright! That would be 11,000 won.” 

You gave the cashier the money and She left to go make your drink. You noted that she was around the same height as you.. You were more on the shorter range for young adult males. You also couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that she didn’t pay any mind to the fact you’re a hybrid and didn’t stare at your ears like most people do.

“Oh Hey Y/N!” A sudden smell of two predators, one smelling like vanilla and another smelling more like honey. 

You turn your head to see a familiar black panther hybrid and an unfamiliar wolf hybrid next to him, the wolf being taller. The wolf hybrid has multiple piercings and a sleeve tattoo on his right arm.. You couldn’t say he didn’t look absolutely drop dead gorgeous even in just a plain black shirt. You remember the black panther being one of your classmates in ballet, you couldn’t have mistaken him for anyone else for his bread cheeks, and pretty eyes. his name being… Jimmy..? Jim?? You couldn’t really remember.

“Oh hello Jim….y Hyung?”

.

The unknown wolf hybrid burst out laughing at your response, already bent over and ready to topple over any second now while Jimmy paled and blushed in embarrassment at the same time- Is that even possible?!

“It’s Jimin!”

“Oh!!- Oh.. I’m so sorry Jimin Hyung!”

Now it’s your turn to burst out in crimson embarrassment. The wolf was still laughing while Jimin was looking at him with blushing red ears. You watched as Jimin smacked the wolf on the back, telling him off on how rude he was and how he should introduce himself to you.

“I’m sorry! I’m Jungkook and I’m 21!” He finally stood back up to his full height, seemingly towering over you. He offered you a sheepish smile with his bright doe eyes, his fluffy tail whipping behind him in a seemingly happy manner. Now, he was undoubtedly handsome with that smile.

“Ah, I guess I’m your hyung.. I’m Y/N, 22.”

“Excuse me, your drink and cake is ready!” The cashier had finally come back with your order, and embarrassingly enough witnessed your little interaction with the two guys. 

As you took your order and were about to walk to a nearby table, Jimin suggested that the three of you could get to know each other more and sit together, which you agreed to. You did think that Jimin and Jungkook were nice company and based on the incident that happened, you could tell that they would be good friends for you.

After a couple minutes of waiting, it didn’t take long for the duo to go to your table with their own drinks and desert. The three of you sat at a round table with three seats, perfect for you three. From your seating, next to you was a beautiful view of the quiet and peaceful streets of Seoul. 

“Anyway, how come you’re here Y/N-ssi? I don’t usually see you here before ballet.” Jimin asked with a curious glint in his eyes, his black tail swishing behind him in interest.

“Well, I kind of stayed up too late studying, so a coffee and snack would be good for some energy. Is Jungkook gonna try out ballet?”

“Yes I am- Oh! What University do you go to, Y/N-hyung?” seemingly taking interest in what you do in your life.

“University of Seoul”

Jungkook seemed happy at your response, sipping his drink with sparkles in his eyes and his tail uncontrollably wagged. You found it pretty cute, but you couldn’t notice the playful glint in Jimin’s eye as he looked at Jungkook as you sipped your Mocha.

“Actually, Jungkook and I also go to UoS, and our five other friends. Well actually- five other roommates.”

You choked on your drink, wide-eyed as you looked at Jimin in astonishment at the fact that he was living with 6 other people under one roof.

“There are seven of you under one roof?!”

You ended up spending most of the day practicing Ballet, even after classes the two chose to stay with you practicing your moves more. You could say today was a nice and eventful day. You made 2 new friends- even though they were predators and people typically are shocked to see prey and predators together. They were undoubtedly handsome too- I mean look at those strong and defined legs of Jimin- Oh don’t even get started on Jungkook’s arms- Are they even gay? 

You couldn’t notice Jungkook and Jimin staring at you, you being lost in the clouds of your mind. 

“He’s pretty cute, Hyung..” Jungkook whispered to the older man.

“Oh please, I had my eyes on him first, you brat” Jimin furrowed his eyebrows at the maknae of their group. Jimin has been interested in you since the first time you two met. You were one of the more talented in the gym and you were also very much attractive, physically and personality-wise. It didn’t help that you were always so adorable with your long floppy ears and fluffy little tail, then there was your sweet scent. He just wanted to swallow you up and make you his. Though, he wouldn’t mind sharing but as long as it was his group of best friends.. 

“Hey guys, it’s getting pretty late, we should probably leave now” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the air, dragging you and Jimin out of the hellhole of thoughts. 

Acknowledging him with a nod, you went to grab your bag, until you were cut off by Jimin grabbing it for you and carrying it for you. He offered you a smile with his panther ears high and proud. He trailed behind Jungkook, who was already walking outside the gym after turning off the lights. You quickly chased after them and closed the door.

The crisp cool air of the dusk hit you, it was approaching quite quicker than what was the standard in Seoul. Then again, you never really bothered checking weather or anything like that unless there was an important event. 

“We can walk you home Y/N-Hyung” Jungkook suggested with a kind grin showing his bunny teeth, gosh he really was adorable. Should you really accept the offer of two strangers- even worse predators, you just met today?

The both of them really are good company, and you did have pepper spray in your bag.. Though you didn’t really believe for the duo to be bad people, it never hurts to be extra careful these days. A lot of people try to pull stuns on prey, especially with you being on the smaller scale and the weaker bunch of the hybrids. 

The duo was stuck to your left and right, making sure no one was staring for too long or eyeing you. In honesty, you hadn’t felt this comforted by another presence for a while, your last mate had left you for a more.. Voluptuous bunny hybrid, but in all honestly you’re glad for the breakup. The two alphas were both on guard constantly, making you feel protected the whole time on the way back home. It made Y/N wonder, just what opinion was their opinion on you? Oh dear, maybe your anxiety might just get the best of you.

The whole walk ended up being quiet, which none of the three of you really minded. Occasionally, one of them would brush his tail against your hand and exchange a grin with you, maybe even a wink. A light dusting of pink was stuck on your cheeks the whole time.

Now outside of your apartment building, the two seemed a bit.. Deflated, possibly upset that your pleasant walk together had ended. You decided to break the silence.

“This is my stop now, I’m thankful you guys walked me home.” You said with a grateful yet shy smile. Truly you were thankful, just couldn’t help but be a bit shy now that the attention of two attractive men are on you.

“Anytime Y/N-hyung! How about Jimin-ssi and I get your number before we leave? Maybe up for another hangout next time?”

Now, you weren’t expecting the two of you to actually want to deepen the friendship between the three of you, but you were absolutely more than welcome for the proposal. I mean, who wouldn’t want two hot guys to be your friends? Not you.

“Ah sure.. My number is XXX-XXX-XXX”

“Got it, I’ll text you Y/N-ssi when we get home, alright?”

“Alright, Stay safe you two!”

Just as you were about to turn around and walk into the building, the two each grabbed one of your hands and kneeled to the ground, leaving a light kiss on your knuckles before getting up and walking away. Jimin turns his head to you with a cheeky grin and each of their tails swishing behind them satisfied, leaving you blushing red and embarrassed, your bunny ears instinctively drooping down to hide your face. Gosh, these two might just be the death of you.

masterlist // next

TAGLIST - @blehhhidk (just comment or dm to be added in masterlist !!)

notes - so sorry it took a while. . some stuff happened irl so i couldn't push this out, I hope to have a decent schedule on each chapter to be posted. likes and reblogs keep me motivated, praises also make me really happy :D

copyright © 2023 | frieschan

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook/Namjoon:

Don't Play With Your Food

I'm which you've got to be fiund- no matter how.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Black Panther Hybrid!Jungkook, Bunny!Reader, human!Namjoon, hybrid trafficking, hospital

Length: mid/long

<- Previous

A/N: Boo. ⛔️✨️👉There is no taglist.👈✨️⛔️

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•���━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook has been regressing ever since losing you.

Namjoon has never seen him like this before. The young man is hardly talking, communicating rather in sounds of either disapproval or agreement over questions he's asked, behavior more lead by instincts than ever before. It worries Namjoon; so much so, that currently, he's browsing on his phone for therapy spots in Seoul for predator hybrids like Jungkook. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, there is, after all, a chance of you not ever coming back- and he wants to be somewhat prepared for it.

A hybrid losing their mate is a traumatic thing, after all.

Namjoon himself has to function, put his own emotions aside, because he needs to support Jungkook down the line. He's promised that.

The black panther is currently napping on the bed in the hotel they've rented, a rare moment of silence giving Namjoon a moment to breathe. Jungkook doesn't know how much stress he's putting on his owner after all, and it's also nowhere near his fault for being like this. Trauma just affects hybrids differently than humans.

What pains him even more is the fact that even in this state, Jungkook is still Jungkook- he instantly became apologetic after scratching him by accident earlier today, becoming clingy and needy for reassurance.

Namjoon is looking at a remote therapy center when a call interrupts him, number foreign and unknown to him- and his first instinct is that it might just be the police with an update to the situation as he answers, while Jungkook stirs a little on the bed, stretching his limbs. The voice on the other line is foreign, and it takes his brain a second to recognize the language as japanese, before it switches to a female voice speaking korean. "Hello? Is this Kim Namjoon?" The voice asks, and Namjoon furrows his brows, absentmindedly running his hand over Jungkooks shoulder as the black panther hybrid growls a little under his breath.

"Yes. Who is this?" He asks, when the voice continues.

"This is Tokyo Central Hospital, I'm calling because we have a hybrid here with the Tattoo Number 134340-" She asks, and Namjoon instantly sits up straight, knocking Jungkook's head off of his lap as a result. Instead of complaining however, the hybrid seems to realize the shift in mood right away, now leaning in closer to hear what's being said over the phone as well.

"Yes, I'm the owner, is- is she okay?!" He instantly demands, voice cracking a little midway in the sentence.

And his only thought is: Please don't say it.

"She's been brought to the ER today a few hours prior, but she's currently stable. Is there any way for you to come here? I know you live-" She, again, doesn't get to finish her sentence, Jungkook already having tumbled down the bed in his hurry to fetch his shoes, Namjoon having to harshly pull the hybrid's tail to get him to stay still for just a moment.

"We'll be there as soon as we can- is it alright if I bring along another hybrid?" He asks, and Jungkook swipes his tail from side to side aggressively, knocking over a pen on the table behind him.

The female nurse chuckles. "That's alright for us here, I think it would actually help a lot to have some people she knows around her, she's been quite scared." She explains, and Namjoon nods at Jungkook, finally letting the buzzing hybrid rush to get his shoes and jacket on.

"Thank you so much, we'll be there soon." Namjoon informs her, before hanging up, and rushing to grab onto the hood of Jungkook's sweater. "Come here, I won't risk losing another one." He scolds, putting Jungkook's collar on, before he takes a deep breath.

Time to bring you home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"So, she is unconscious right now because we've given her a lot of pain relief-" The nurse explains, leading both through the busy department where patients are being treated. Namjoon had instantly asked to be explained what's been happening and what's going to happen, wanting, no, needing to know what's going on to reassure himself of you being fine. "-and she is a little bruised, but she's stable enough for now." She continues to explain. "I'd like for you not to crawl into bed with her to avoid causing anymore damage, we're still waiting for the results of the scans to come back, but you can hold her hand and sit close to her alright?" She asks Jungkook, who nods once before turning his attention back to his environment, as if to scan for where you might be. "He's not much of a talker, is he?" She chuckles, as Namjoon nods a little.

"He's usually a lot more controlled, but the situation had put a lot of stress on him." He apologizes almost, making the nurse nod in understanding.

"That's alright." She says, before she stops walking and pulls a curtain back. "Alright, come on in."

Jungkook is instantly at your side, almost tripping over the cables attached to you, the black panther instantly holding your hand, nuzzling the back of it to get his scent back onto you, whining quietly to himself. "I'll let the doctor know you're here." She simply informs Namjoon before she leaves, pulling the curtain shut again to give you some privacy.

In a way, everything becomes dull in the background for Namjoon.

None of the noises reach him, nothing that goes on around you can really come into focus as he sits down calmly on one of the chairs at the side, simply watching Jungkook cling onto you. You really look like you're only sleeping- apart from a couple of scratches on the side of your jaw, and all of the equipment hooked onto you to monitor your condition, you look almost relaxed. He can spot one of your ears being shaved on the inside, probably done by the medical staff to be able to read your ID tattoo properly. He can't stop simply staring for a moment, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor calming him down somewhat, when a tall man walks in.

"Alright, Hello." The doctor introduces himself with his name and profession, before he laughs when Jungkook growls a little, the hybrid probably feeling threatened by the young and a lot taller male. "Well, hello to you too." He jokes, making Namjoon laugh a little as well. "So I just looked at her results, and it's thankfully a lot less than we initially expected." He explains, and while talking to Namjoon about what's going to have to be done moving forward, Jungkook is busy re-familiarizing himself with you.

There's nothing else on his mind at the moment than you, there, existing, alive.

"Jungkook- come here for a moment, they need to work for a second, okay?" Namjoon carefully tries, running a hand over the hybrid's shoulder. He shakes his head immediately at the prospect of having to leave you again, but at the sight of the nurses, he understands.

Though he can't help but side-eye the tall doctor as he walks past him.

But his jealousy is quickly drowned out as he watches several nurses move and prepare things. He instantly whines and struggles a bit as Namjoon holds him close somewhat on his thigh, very much just as distressed at seeing them move around. "She's got a collapsed lung on the left side, so we're going to insert a small tube to help re-inflate it. It might wake her up since it's quite an uncomfortable procedure, but it's necessary." A nurse explains, and Namjoon nods. "She won't be in pain, but she'll still feel it." She clarifies, and Jungkook hides his face in his owner's neck, who in return stares blankly at the way they work on you.

Surely enough, you do wake up from it, whining pitifully at the confusing surroundings and strange things done to you, nurses doing their best to reassure you that you're fine. It's quite an odd scene to be living through, but frankly, Namjoon is more so relieved that you're in the best care you can be for now.

"Kim Namjoon?" Someone asks, and he looks up at a police officer. "We're aware that this must be a distressing situation, but we'd like to fill you in on the situation at the moment." The man explains, and Namjoon nods. "She was found roaming around tokyo's subway station, security cameras show her being dropped off by a person we've already identified and taken into custody." He says, reading from a notepad. "According to him, he'd been told to 'throw her out' because she was never an intention target from the start. She was, unfortunately, at the wrong place during the wrong time." He sighs.

"Will they look into Seoul's lack of care when she was discharged as well?" Namjoon darkly asks, running a hand over his hybrid's back.

"Thats for the south korean police to decide- though I believe they're looking into it as we speak." The man offers. "For now I can tell you that, even if under unfortunate circumstances and not intentionally, she's been the lead we've been searching for for months. 136 Hybrids had been discovered this morning due to her showing up." He says.

"Thats good to hear." Namjoon simply nods, and the police officer excuses himself before he leaves you all alone again, everything having settled down quite a bit.

And then, your eyes fall on your family, and the dam breaks.

"We're right here love, don't cry." Namjoon immediately hurries out, walking closer with Jungkook who latches back onto your hand. "You'll be fine." Your owner says, and you nod.

"...joon?" You ask meekly, voice cracking a bit.

"Hm?" Namjoon asks, leaning in to hear you better-

But instead of talking, you simply peck his cheek-

And his tears flow freely at that.

[stargirlfics]

would i get booed if i said i would’ve killed for klaue with a full beard like I KNOW ITS COMIC ACCURATE! I KNOWW!!! but i am speaking with my coochie. it wouldve been so fucking hot

No booing here bestie, you’re right and you should say it!!! Especially with the way I knowww Andy Serkis can grow such a magnificent full beard, yeah coochie is crying, screaming, yearning and utterly feral for it!

I do love the facial hair we got of Klaue in AoU and Black Panther especially the more salt and pepper it looked 😵‍💫 but whew a full thick beard would end me

Do we see that beard?! 😍 imagine Klaue with his classic undercut, head/neck tattoos all visible with a full ass beard…I fear he would be too powerful but I need it, just daydream with me I’m losing it already!!!

[paganimagevault]

The Princess of Ukok (aka Siberian Ice Maiden & The White Lady) 500 BCE. Tumblr image limit only allows 30 photos, I will include a link to my blog, at bottom, with more photos and more organized descriptions.

"In 1993, Russian archaeologist Natalya Polosmak and her team discovered an ancient tomb at the Ukok Plateau, in the Altai Mountains region of Russia near the border with China.

The ‘Maiden’ belonged to the Pazyryk culture. The Pazyryk people, a congregation of Scythian nomadic tribes, lived in the Altai mountains in the 6th to 3rd centuries B.C.

The woman’s body, carefully embalmed using peat and bark, was laid on its side as if she were asleep. She was young and her hair was shaved, but she wore a wig and a tall hat. She was 167cm tall. Some tribal animal-style tattoos remained on her pale skin: creatures with horns that evolved into floral shapes. Her coffin was made large enough to accommodate the 90cm felt headdress she wore. She was also wearing a long wool skirt with red and white stripes and white felt stockings.

'A mop of hair on top was tightly wrapped around with a woollen cord, which helped this mop to stand upright,' she says. 'On top of this mop was worn a red 'nakosnik' (a braided decoration made from threads), and atop of this structure was a bronze pin with a deer, standing on a sphere. The deer was made from wood, and was covered in golden foil.' Yet it was more intricate, still. 'The wig had another very important detail,' she says. Its crowning glory looked like a giant feather, 68.5 cm long, made from felt and covered with black woollen fabric, with a stick inside it to help it stand straight.' she says. 'This feather had the figures of 15 birds attached to it, which like in modern Russian Matryoshkha dolls with one inside another, were each of smaller size compared to the previous one. The birds had leather wings, tails and legs, and long necks, which most likely meant they were swans. 'This feather can be interpreted as a symbol of the Tree of Life - a healing tree which existed in so many cultures all around the planet. By the roots of the tree there is a wooden figure of a deer with a Capricorn's antlers. 'There was also ... a cap for the wig.... some 84 cm tall. It was found in Princess Ukok's burial chamber.'

The Altai princess became the second mummy found with a tattoo (tattoo had not yet been found on other, earlier mummies in the Hermitage). Kurgan 1, burial ground Ak-Alakha-3 (Ukok Plateau, Altai). Tattoos were inked on both arms from shoulders to hands. The drawings were blue and stood out against the white skin. They were preserved only on the left hand, on the right they were almost completely destroyed. Drawings were also applied to some phalanges of both hands. Archaeologists saw the tattoos during the opening of the wooden sarcophagus, then the mummy's skin began to darken, and the tattoos disappeared, subsequently they were restored in the laboratory. When other Pazyryk mummies were found, the tattoos were not visually noticeable.

The tattoos on the left shoulder of the 'princess' show a fantastical mythological animal: a deer with a griffon's beak and a Capricorn's antlers. The antlers are decorated with the heads of griffons. And the same griffon's head is shown on the back of the animal. The mouth of a spotted panther with a long tail is seen at the legs of a sheep. She also has a deer's head on her wrist, with big antlers. There is a drawing on the animal's body on a thumb on her left hand.

Somehow, many Pazyryk burials in this region were flooded, possibly with underground waters, and then froze – so the organic remains were preserved almost untouched by decay.

The embalmed body was buried at least three months after death. All this time, the mysterious woman continued to play a special role in the life of her tribe — for example, she was put in some chairs, which can be seen from the traces on the body. At the same time, a complex, time-consuming ceremony of embalming is a sign of the extraordinary status of the deceased. However, the scientists deny her status as a ‘Princess.’

“It’s not accurate to call her a ‘princess’. She was not a princess, she was a representative of the middle layer of the Pazyryk society,” archaeologist Vyacheslav Molodin, academician at the Russian Academy of Sciences, and Natalya Polosmak’s husband, told “Expert-Siberia” magazine in 2012.

Studies of the mummified remains extraordinary advances in our understanding of her rich and ingenious Pazyryk culture. The tattoos on her skin are works of great skill and artistry, while her fashion and beauty secrets - from items found in her burial chamber which even included a 'cosmetics bag' - allow her impressive looks to be recreated more than two millennia after her death.

The princess' cosmetic kit included a black horsehair brush with a thin wooden shaft inside, tied with a (disappeared) leather cord, completely studded with cylindrical marble beads, and handfuls of scattered powder of bright blue-green color. There were also the remains of a broken thin rod of flat metal rings filled with the same blue-green substance (that is, in fact, it is a pencil for drawing lines or drawings like our eyeliner).

Analysis showed that it was vivianite (blue iron ore). Such a powder, closer to modern times, was used to obtain green paint. In the Altai Mountains, it is known as a satellite of gold-bearing sands. Perhaps this powder had a sacred meaning. The vivianite pencil may have been used for face painting, possibly for people with special functions or gifts. Among the Pazyryks, face and body painting has not been recorded, partly because not a single mummified face has been found. But among the peoples close to the Pazyryks, such a tradition was recorded, in particular, the painting of the face with two spiral drawings. There is a weak association with the blue-green turquoise Hathor from the Sinaiand numerous Sumerian green cosmetic "shadows" in boxes discovered during excavations in Ur and other cities of Sumer.

It is believed that she was not in fact a royal but that her use of drugs to cope with the symptoms of her illnesses may have given her 'an altered state of mind', leading her kinsmen to the belief that she could communicate with the spirits. Her lavish grave suggests she was someone of singular importance.

The MRI, conducted in Novosibirsk by eminent academics Andrey Letyagin and Andrey Savelov, showed that the 'princess' suffered from osteomyelitis, an infection of the bone or bone marrow, from childhood or adolescence. Close to the end of her life, she was afflicted, too, by injuries consistent with a fall from a horse.

The mystery was solved only in the 2010s with the help of a computed tomography scan. It showed that the maiden suffered from breast cancer that killed her in about three years. She was 25 at the time of her death.

'During the imaging of mammary glands, we paid attention to their asymmetric structure and the varying asymmetry of the MR signal,' stated Dr Letyagin in his analysis. 'We are dealing with a primary tumour in the right breast and right axial lymph nodes with metastases.'

'The three first thoracic vertebrae showed a statistically significant decrease in MR signal and distortion of the contours, which may indicate the metastatic cancer process.' He concluded: 'I am quite sure of the diagnosis - she had cancer.

'She was extremely emaciated. Given her rather high rank in society and the information scientists obtained studying mummies of elite Pazyryks, I do not have any other explanation of her state. Only cancer could have such an impact.'

'When she arrived in winter camp on Ukok in October, she had the fourth stage of breast cancer,' she wrote. 'She had severe pain and the strongest intoxication, which caused the loss of physical strength. 'In such a condition, she could fall from her horse and suffer serious injuries. She obviously fell on her right side, hit the right temple, right shoulder and right hip. Her right hand was not hurt, because it was pressed to the body, probably by this time the hand was already inactive. Though she was alive after her fall, because edemas are seen, which developed due to injuries.

The DNA research performed on the remains showed that the ‘Maiden’ is genetically closely related to contemporary Selkup and Ket peoples – indigenous Siberian tribes still living in Russia.

'There was a moment of gross misunderstanding when a legend came about this mummy being a foremother of people of Altai,' said Molodin.

'The people of Pazyryk belonged to different ethnic group, in no way related to Altaians. Genetic studies showed that the Pazyryks were a part of Samoyedic family, with elements of Iranian-Caucasian substratum.'

So perhaps more Samoyedic than Scythian.

'We tried to overcome the misunderstanding, but sadly it didn't work.'

The Altai authorities have now declared the remote mountain area from where the princess and her kinsmen were buried as a 'zone of peace' where no more excavations will take place, despite the near-certain treasures lying in the permafrost.

Such work amounts to plundering, they believe.

To Molodin, who found the male mummy several years after the princess, this deprives the world of a valuable scientific inheritance. He argues, too, that the issue is critical since global warming means the ancient bodies will decay.

Scientists reckon there are thousands of burial mounds here, hundreds of which date to the Pazyryk period, many of which may contain answers to questions about where we come from.

The ancient mummy of a mysterious young woman, known as the Ukok Princess, is finally returning home to the Altai Republic this month (The Siberian Times, August 2012).

On 19 May 2014, during a speech at the museum, (Alexander) Berdnikov reminded the crowd and media that the renovation and repatriation of the Altai Princess was one of his most important accomplishments, of course aided by Gazprom:

We should be proud that we have such a museum. A great accomplishment; we thank the management of Gazprom. When I was appointed as the Head [of the Altai Republic] one of my main goals and dreams was to have a bright opening of a renovated museum and that we could welcome the “Siberian Ice Maiden” home again. Today our museum is the best one east of the Urals and is the only one that has been restored in Russia in the past twenty years. (Government of the Altai Republic 2014)

The museum, the repatriated Altai Princess, and a vibrant cultural life, all indirectly bankrolled by Gazprom."

-taken from The Siberian Times, Russia Beyond, Taylor & Francis Online, world-jewellery livejournal, and peaceandjustice