#reach of sincerity icons

[ghostlyferrettarot]

★Pick a Picture: ✨️🌌How the public would view you as a celebrity🌌✨️

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

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🌌Masterlist🌌

🧡Pile 1: 8 of Wands, The Sun, 2 of Cups.

Hi pile 1! You will be really loved by the public honestly, you are giving me Chuu, the ex-loona member, vibes. You are really charismatic and loveable, so others will connect with you easily. You will be quite literally "the peoples princess"; it because your personality its so out-going and always kind. I see you many people wanting to work with you because of how nice and humble you are dispite your level of fame.

A really great public persona honestly. I see you having a really diverse fan base too, people will feel represented and at "home" when it comes to you and your art. I dont feel that you will be "relatable", but you will be really down to earth and sincere about your life and how you feel; and others will appreciate this a lot. You are quite the sunshine yourself and others will naturally gravitate towards you.

💎Pile 2: The Fool, 9 of Cups and Ace of Swords.

Hi pile 2! I feel like you will be really admired by others, its giving boss energy. Others see you as one of the best in your field, making you a bit intimidating to be around sometimes. Theres strong "The Devil wears Prada" references coming up, so this movie could be important; and the fashion industry too.

Regarless of this, i feel that people will respect and admire you a lot, to the point in which i feel you will reach a Cher level of iconic. People know that your time and art is gold, so they will be thankful for even a second of your time; they know you are not to be bother by others.

Many see you as an example aswell, someone that comes from a humble start and that reach this goals thanks to their talent and hardworking nature. I see you having many bussiness of your own, maybe your own beauty company, owning a brand, etc. A true boss!

💖Pile 3: 7 of Cups, The Moon and Queen of Cups.

Hi pile 3! I feel that others will see you as someone "otherwordly" somehow, thats literally the message i channeled!

Theres something really unique about you, they way you carry yourself and how you approach life, that makes others wonder about you a lot. I see that you will be talked about a lot, many will have a acrush on you even; so yeah, the public will like you alot but they will also be really on your bussiness quite a lot.

I see you being really carefree and private in many matters, so there will be a lot of speculations. Although, i feel you will have a solid fanbase that will keep you safe from the bad gossip that the media could put out.

You are giving me Lily Rose Deep, Alexa Demie type of unbothered. You are just living your life, but theres something about you that brings everyones eyes towards you. You are a mistery and people love it. I see you being "the muse" of many artists aswell. Lucky you pile 3!

🌌💎✨️Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated✨️💎🌌

[cherryredcheol]

"dove"

tldr: all the way minghao uses your nickname a/n: i really like this one

murmurs: in the early hours of the morning

“dove,” he pushed your hair back off your forehead as he tried to wake you gently. the combination of an early morning arrival at the airport and a long line at security had left you both tired when you reached the private lounge. settling into plush armchairs across from one another, neither of you said anything, happy to just relax before boarding. he didn’t notice you’d dozed off until he looked up.

“you should eat something before we board.” you’d been together long enough now that he knew you’d be very grumpy later if you didn’t eat breakfast. he also knew this flight wasn’t long enough for a meal to be served so if you didn’t eat now you wouldn’t until you were back home and by then you’d be starving and he didn’t want that. 

“come on, dove, let me see those eyes,” he felt bad for waking you when you clearly needed the rest, but he knew you’d thank him once you had food in your belly. the four hours it took to get from hong kong back to seoul could be spent behind the darkness of your eyelids but right now he was determined to get you breakfast. “they have your favorite…”

scoffs: when he can’t tell if you’re kidding

“dove.” he’s shocked. when you asked him so sweetly this morning if you could pick his outfit for the day, he didn’t think twice before telling you yes. he trusted your sense of style and knew that you knew what he liked to wear. he had total faith in you, excited to spend the day in clothes you picked specifically for him. he had an interview this afternoon and it thrilled him that he would be filmed wearing your outfit and no one would even know but you two. 

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” looking in the mirror he’s horrified. met with the sight of clashing colors, patterns, and textures, he knows he can’t go out like this. he’s not sure where it all went wrong. you have such good taste, it was one of the many things he loved about you, but came up with this? pulling his eyes away from the clothes, he met your gaze in the reflection and saw your smirk. 

he turned to you, incredulous over your prank but relieved that you hadn’t been sincere in your choices. he was worried he was going to have to hurt your feelings by changing. “i have to leave soon and you’ve wasted time on this silly trick. go pick me out a real outfit, dove.” he pointed to the closet and watched your smile widen at his teasing words as you crossed the room to pick something sincerely this time. “make me look nice!”

probes: because he thinks you’ve had too much screen time

“dove?” he knows you asked to be left alone but that doesn’t feel right when you’re so clearly stressed. he’d been at your apartment for 30 minutes and you had not looked up from your laptop the entire time. he’s pretty sure you haven’t looked up from it all day and he’s worried you might be starting to fuse to your desk chair. he came over for movie night, excited because it was his choice this week, but at this point, he’d just be glad to see your eyes. 

“have you eaten today?” he was going to be persistent about this. you needed a break and he was not going to stop until you took one for the rest of the night, with him. he knew you had a lot on your plate and there was a lot that needed to get done but running yourself into the ground wasn’t going to accomplish anything. he was standing behind you, hands rubbing gently on your shoulders, offering support but also letting you know he wasn’t going to be leaving you alone anytime soon. 

“save your work and let’s order take-out.” his tone is a little strict but he wants you to take him seriously and listen. clearly understanding this, he watches your cursor travel across the screen to the save icon and feels satisfied when you push the computer closed. he smiles when you turn in the chair and stand to greet him properly, happy that you were not becoming one with your chair. he wraps you up in his arms and presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “you’re going to love my movie pick tonight.”

marvels: as you walk through the door

“dove,” he’s rendered near speechless at the sight of you walking out from the bathroom. dressed in your comfy pajamas, he can’t tear his eyes away. scrubbed clean and glowy from your products, he swears you shine brighter than any star he's ever seen. suddenly the mattress he’s stretched out on feels a little too cold without you. 

“you look so beautiful,” he compliments you with so much sincerity, hoping to convey how much he means it, hoping you can feel it. you were his sense of calm in the craziness of his life. strong, steady, and always here for him, he aspired to be the same for you. seeing you so soft, lit from the back by the vanity light, he was so sure you were it for him. 

“come join me,” he pouts at you, already anticipating the comforting weight of you in his arms, too impatient to wait any longer. his pout morphs into a smile watching you scurry to the bed, flopping onto the empty side he’s saved just for you. he’ll save a side of the bed for you for the rest of his life if you’d let him. “come here, dove. give me a good night kiss.” 

teases: while trying to encourage a new career move

“dove” he sing-songs from the other side of the space, trying to grab your attention. it was late, or early depending on interpretation, and only the two of you were left in the practice room. he was fooling around with different steps and filming some challenges. you were more than content to sit and watch, never much of a dancer. 

“come dance with me,” he holds a hand out to you, palm open and facing up in an invitation. you eye him wearily, his smile a touch too manic to not be interpreted as mischievous. you heave yourself off the floor, crossing the room to him, accepting his outstretched hand. the music playing isn’t something you recognize but it’s soft and sweet and sets the mood perfectly as he draws you close to his chest, swaying gently back and forth. 

“you could be a decent dancer with a little practice. probably not as good as me though,” he whispers this, trying to preserve the serene, romantic mood that had been set. but your giggles shatter the illusion, breaking the quiet and dragging him into his own fit of laughter. the moment was ruined, but he supposed laughing with you was just as romantic as a slow dance. 

[rynwritesreid]

I am obsessed w Ryan Gosling wearing a necklace with his wife’s initials on it to the Barbie Premiere!!!! Can we see Spencer doing the same thing, maybe to the office or a team dinner ? 😍

A/N: this is such a cute idea, and if I am being honest this is defo something early to mid season Spencer would have done. Thank you for the request:)

Summary: it’s basically as requested. I have added in some detail about other women flirting with him and that’s why he decides to wear it, but he does still wear it to the office.

Content: fluff. Fem!reader. Other people flirt with Spencer, but he doesn’t reciprocate.

Masterlist| requests are open| navigation

Spencer was aware he got attention from other women; he knew he was attractive. He never flirted back, or really gave anyone else the time of day and he was very open with the fact he was in a very committed relationship with you. You were also not prone to jealousy, you didn’t really like other people trying to flirt with Spencer, but you understood he was an attractive and very intelligent man. 

Spencer though, he had become to hate it. He didn’t understand why people didn’t care he loved you, that he was in a relationship with you, and only wanted you. He, being the ever-intelligent man he is, had come up with a solution.

“Hey, I have something to show you.” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a medium sized box. “Before you get too excited, this isn’t a ring. It’s a necklace with your initials on it.” 

“Are you going to wear that?” you asked with a smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest as you looked at the delicate necklace in Spencer's hand. The silver chain glinted under the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the window, and the initials intertwined beautifully, a testament to your bond.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I want everyone to know who my heart belongs too.” 

And with a tender smile, Spencer carefully fastened the necklace around his neck, the cool metal resting against his warm skin. As it settled into place, he stood up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and sure.

"I love you," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I want the whole world to know that you're mine."

*

The next day, Spencer turned up to work wearing the necklace. JJ was the first to notice, her eyes scanning the necklace, wondering why he had suddenly started wearing jewellery.

"What's that, Spence?" JJ asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Spencer smiled, his eyes lighting up as he adjusted the necklace instinctively.

"It's for Y/N," he replied proudly, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of determination. "I want everyone to know that she's the one I love."

JJ's gaze softened as she took in his words, understanding the significance of the gesture. She nodded approvingly, a small smile playing on her lips.

"That's sweet, Spencer," JJ said, her tone genuine. "I'm happy for you both."

Derek had overheard what JJ had said to Spencer, and while he also did think it was cute and he would never tell a man that wearing any jewellery wasn’t masculine, he still wanted to tease Spencer a little. 

"Hey Pretty Boy, since when did you become a fashion icon?" Derek teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sauntered over to Spencer's desk. Spencer rolled his eyes good-naturedly, used to Derek's playful banter.

“Oh, you think I’m a fashion icon because this, Derek?” Spencer grinned, a playful glint in his eye as he adjusted the necklace once more. "Well, let's just say I'm setting a new trend."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, Reid, if you say so. Just don't let Garcia catch you. She might think you're stealing her accessory game."

Spencer laughed at the thought of Garcia's reaction, imagining her excitement at seeing him embrace a new fashion statement. It felt good to have his friends' support and light-hearted teasing about his gesture towards you.

No one else seemed to care, Garcia had done a squeal of excitement when she saw the necklace and realised the initials were yours. But other than that, no one seemed to fuss over it.

*

Though he had noticed that he friends and colleagues didn’t seem to care about his necklace anymore, he had noticed how other women would interact with him. They seemed to glare at the two initials dangling around his neck and back off.

Spencer found himself almost amused by the reaction of the women who used to flirt with him. Their glares held a mix of disappointment and frustration, as if his simple act of wearing a necklace had somehow dashed their hopes. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their reactions, knowing that he was making it clear to everyone where his heart truly belonged.

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[girlbeyondthegrave]

The Parallels Between Astrid and Lydia and What They Say About Beetlebabes: A Metaphorical Interpretation of the Final Dream Sequence

I previously made a post where I wrote about my interpretation of the dream sequence being inspired by Lydia and Astrid’s literal futures following the film, but after reading @theblacklistforever97 ‘s metaphorical interpretation of the final scene, I wanted to explore what messages Burton may be trying to convey. I think that we can find a strong message when we look at how Astrid’s time in the film parallels her mother’s experiences as a teenager.

The main takeaway from the linked post is that dream sequences often reveal the inner desires of characters, but I think that the parallels between mother and daughter can, too.

As teenagers, both characters are strange and unusual in their own rights. Lydia is iconically goth and melancholy with fascinations with death and photography, while Astrid reads classic Russian literature and wears edgy clothing. Both are shown to not fit in with people that are considered “normal.” Yet they want to feel embraced and have someone truly see them.

Lydia’s family writes her off as weird, and when she starts to bond with the Maitlands, they vanish for three months. She feels used after the incident at dinner.

As soon as Beetlejuice looks at her, he’s interested. His full attention is on her. He says she looked like someone he can relate to, and when Lydia basically says she wants to die, he’s genuinely taken aback. He doesn’t have to offer to talk about that with her, but he does. Beetlejuice genuinely values Lydia’s life, and he wants her to live it. There’s also no mention of marriage during that first encounter. He just wants Lydia to let him out—no mentions of being out permanently either.

But in their next encounter, Beetlejuice wants out for good, and he chooses Lydia to be tethered to in marriage. He’s downright gleeful when she talks to him again. It’s entirely possible that Beetlejuice only wanted to be out permanently after he met Lydia, and he’s enamored with her. We know now that he’s gone 600 years without romantic love, and that reframes his eagerness to marry her. He’s been carrying that ring around for hundreds of years, and he finally found someone he thinks is worthy of having it.

People could argue that Beetlejuice was using Lydia and had no real romantic interest in her, but after the sequel, there’s no denying that he has sincere feelings for Lydia. I detail a lot of his and Lydia’s moments in a separate post, but TLDR: Beetlejuice calls Lydia the love of his life and waits for her. He absolutely adores this woman, and he just wants to be with her.

Astrid’s relationship with Jeremy serves as a foil to Lydia and Beetlejuice’s. Jeremy feigns interest in Astrid to manipulate her into trusting him. He values her life only in the sense that he wants to take it for himself. He appeals to her desire for someone to understand her, but it’s not genuine. He lies about the incantation and uses Astrid’s desire for closure regarding her father to get what he wants. He had no intentions of being with Astrid; just using her for his own gain.

There’s only one man who behaves similarly to Jeremy in the film, and it’s not Beetlejuice—it’s Rory. While Jeremy wants to literally take control of Astrid’s life, Rory figuratively controls Lydia’s. He guilts her, he manipulates her, and Lydia has lost a lot of the spunk and fire she had as a teenager. Rory appeals to her emotions just like Jeremy does with Astrid so he can reach his own goals. He doesn’t believe in Lydia, doesn’t listen to her. It’s all an act to get to her money, just like Jeremy pretends to be the caring living boy to get Astrid to sign her life away.

If we look at the dream sequence metaphorically, the parallels between Astrid and Lydia make a solid case that Astrid is meant to reflect Lydia’s inner desires. Dream Astrid meets someone that matches her eccentric energy, who truly sees her, and they get to live happily ever after. Let’s also note that the boy is wearing a vampire costume, a monster that’s known for invoking fear, yet that’s the moment that captivates Dream Astrid. And even when a monstrous BabyJuice pops out of her, she smiles and accepts him as her own.

Beetlejuice sends a clear message here: if Lydia wants to feel fully seen and appreciated, she needs to find someone that matches her energy. He wants to be that someone, and he’s proven that his affections are far more genuine than Rory’s. He’s already accepted her, but she needs to accept him, too. He truly believes that if she can accept the connection they have, he will make her happy.

[saikira999]

headcanons for how Idia and Malleus play Minecraft?

~ Headcanons for twst characters playing Minecraft.

I was a little late, but here are the headcannons! :D

Also, a little friendly reminder that English is not My native language and if you find errors in the text, please write to me about it.

Another parts about :

Azul and Lilia!

Riddle and Leona!

Jade and Floyd!

[Idia]

1) Absolute pro.

2) During the entire game, big bro has already set up His own server with tens of hundreds of buildings, houses and cities, on which all of Ignihyde plays...

But for you, beginners, He will of course make a new one.

3) Lives not in an ordinary house, but in a secret underground complex with hundreds of traps, secrets and secret passages. The entire dungeon is arranged quite professionally and beautifully, in a black and blue palette, using wool, clay, stone and several types of thin blocks and half-blocks, steps and other things. Instead of ordinary torches, he uses blue torches with soul fire.

4) He doesn’t trust his account to anyone except Ortho, but he tries to make sure that his beloved younger brother doesn’t waste any important resources or do anything unnecessary.

5) His favorite and least favorite location is Nether.

6) His base is guarded by three dogs with blue collars.

7) The same walking guide that explains to everyone and everything how to play and answers all kinds of questions.

8) The bro on the server has absolute power... After all, he is the admin here and the main expert in cheat codes.

9) Despite the fact that he feels much more confident in the square world, he still does not like to interact with other players and prefers to play alone. If there are too many players on the server, He either rushes to retire, or barely uses the microphone and hangs around somewhere in the corners.

He is most comfortable playing with Lilia, Ortho, Azul and possibly Yuu.

10) Keeps a joke counter when someone compares His hair to the blue soul fire (137)...

11) Loves block art and other buildings like statues of favorite anime characters.

12) Usually, he plays with a ton of shaders, mods and other additions, but since not all dorms are equipped with powerful hardware, like in Ignihyde, bro have to play with a minimum amount of additional details.

13) Knows all the cool bugs, recipes, theories and locations of Minecraft.

14) In one of the secret rooms he built a cemetery for His pets.

15) Of all the players, he comes to the server most often, and could have reached the dragon in one day, if not for Ortho’s gentle reminder that on a joint server you need to play TOGETHER.

16) His main fear is if His mother somehow logs onto the server.

17) Always swears at updates.

18) Sometimes he seriously thinks about buying the rights to the game...

19) Minecraft is my life!

20) MINECRAAAAAAAAAFT

(Insert audio from that screaming russian schoolboy meme)

[Malleus]

1) He doesn’t know what Minecraft is and when Yuu and Idia invite him to play (Invitation???? He’ll definitely join!), he asks Lilia what “Minecraft” is and what spell can He use to get into this mysterious world?

2) When he sits down at the computer for the first time, he falls into a crisis and looks at the square icon for a long time (3 hours), in sincere bewilderment.

Then he decides to try to figure it out on his own... And accidentally blows up the computer.

(Poor Lilia.)

4) FINALLY having figured out the controls on the phone (Still poor Lilia), he came onto the server and falls into a new crisis and shock from the appearance of the game...

"This is definitely... It will be interesting..."

5) Absolute noob. Bro sometimes even forgets that his character is weak and mortal. Several times, He simply walks into lava, forgets to eat, or swims in the water for a long time and is genuinely perplexed as to why his character is dying.

6) Tsunotaro's house is a simple wooden box made of dark oak logs, vines and flowers. There is no floor - only fragrant green grass. The windows are also missing and replaced with fences. Right at the doorstep is a garden with flowers, and on the roof there will be creepy, crooked figures made of blocks and half-blocks of stone and basalt (Gargoyles were planned).

Perhaps He will try in the future to rebuild the house into something more gothic, but Tsunotaro like architect, is like a Grim like nutritionist... Yuu is His most frequent guest and Draconia, according to all the rules of etiquette, tries to feed the visitor and force him to stay as a guest with Him, like a decent owner.... Oh, Yuu invites Him to visit...?

...He will definitely come and build Yuu a crooked gargoyle as a sign of gratitude... And I hope that a human child will be smart enough not to destroy His building...

.......No, I'm serious. Don't.

7) He doesn’t understand anything and either follows other players 24/7 or gets lost and Idia eventually finds him a couple hundred chunks away from the spawn location, trying to make friends with the bat.

8) Griefers? Who is this? Is there such a crazy person who would try to break down His house...?

9) Oddly enough, his main occupation is taming everyone he can. Cats? Parrots? Dogs? A whole farm with a variety of livestock from small to large? Two little slimes? Strange guy with white eyes behind the tree? Yuu? He will take care of everyone.... Rest assured)

+ Animals in this game do not age and cannot die unless you put them in danger, or play it safe and give them name tags....

10) The same guy whose game constantly crashes for some reason or whose microphone crashes.

11) Belongs to the type of people who can simply take and give another player either a beautiful, freshly picked flower, or incredibly rare and expensive armor or weapons, with several layers of enchantment, which He obtained from an unknown place and in an unknown way.

12) For a reason unknown to anyone, all mobs such as monsters, villagers and pillagers, except animals and children, bypass him.

13) Loves to wander through abandoned villages and mines.

14) In PVP he is not particularly smart and sticks with more neutral and calm players and rarely gets into fights with anyone... If at all anyone wants to fight with Him.

15) He dreams of building a GIANT Gargoyle, but so far, all he gets is another crooked, creepy pile of stones, only of larger sizes.

16) When he learns that the goal of the game is to kill the dragon and take It's egg, his reaction is literally: ....Mother?🤨

17) He doesn’t want to fight with His relative, and when Idia kills the dragon, he bursts into His room with lightning and thunder in order to interrogate the corpse of Gloomurai, which did not survive several heart attacks.

18) Tsunotaro took the egg for Himself and built a kind of temple for It (Surrounded by gargoyles, of course), and sincerely waited for it to hatch, until Lilia, who came to the rescue, said that this was not possible in the game.

19) Conclusion: One was disappointed because He could not atone for the brutally murdered dragon mother and raise Her child, and the second, although He laughed amicably, still grabbed a couple of Vietnamese (Briar Valley) flashbacks.

(Poor Malleus and Lilia)

20) Later, scared to death, Idia will install a mod especially for Tsunotaro that allows him to hatch and tame a dragon from the egg he received in The End 😊

(Poor Idia)

That's it! I am waiting for your new requests :3

Reblog Me, please? <:]

[anniebeemine]

More Than A Woman- s.r. x fem!reader

fluff dancing with Spencer because I need some healing after this week

“Do you need help?” Spencer chuckles as you fling the door open, accidentally hitting the shoe rack behind it. The thud echoes through the entryway, and you wince, but quickly recover, smiling at him despite the precarious balancing act you're performing with two felt grocery bags, a box, and a paper bag all cradled in your arms.

“I’ve got it. Just—” you start to say, but Spencer is already moving forward, laughing softly as he relieves you of the grocery bags.

“Is that a turntable?” he asks, his curiosity piqued as he eyes the box you’re still holding.

You nod, excitement bubbling in your chest. “Impulse buy. You’re not going to believe what I found at that record store down on Clay Street.”

“I’m going to guess… a record?” Spencer teases, his smile widening as he sets the bags down on the kitchen counter.

You grin, carefully setting the box with the turntable on the coffee table before holding up a finger to signal him to wait. “But, it’s not just any record,” you say, your tone brimming with anticipation. You reach into the paper bag and pull out the vinyl, its glossy cover catching the light. “It’s a limited edition, mint condition—” you pause dramatically, savoring the moment before revealing your find, “Saturday Night Fever.”

Spencer’s smile remains fixed, but there’s a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Is that… a movie?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, trying to place the title.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it. “Oh, Spencer,” you say, shaking your head with fondness. “It’s more than just a movie. It’s an iconic piece of pop culture from the ’70s. The Bee Gees did the soundtrack, and it’s amazing—full of disco classics.”

His eyes light up with recognition at the mention of the Bee Gees. “Oh! ‘Stayin’ Alive,’ right? I know that one.”

“Yes!” you exclaim, thrilled that he knows at least some of it. “And so many other great songs. This album is a treasure. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it sitting there, just waiting for someone to appreciate it.”

Spencer steps closer, his interest clearly piqued now. He gently takes the record from your hands, inspecting it with care. “Limited edition, you said? That’s pretty incredible,” he murmurs, turning it over to examine the back cover.

You watch him with a smile, feeling a warmth in your chest as he admires your find. There’s something incredibly satisfying about sharing these little joys with him, knowing that even if he’s not fully immersed in the same interests, he always shows an appreciation for the things that make you happy.

“I thought we could listen to it tonight,” you suggest, moving to unpack the turntable from its box. “It’s been a while since we had a quiet evening together, and this seems like the perfect soundtrack.”

Spencer nods, his smile softening as he watches you set up the turntable. “I’d love that,” he says, his voice warm and sincere. “And who knows, maybe I’ll learn to love disco as much as you do.”

You glance up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “Trust me, once you hear the Bee Gees in all their vinyl glory, you won’t be able to resist,” you tease, plugging in the turntable and carefully placing the record on the spindle.

As the needle drops and the first notes of “Stayin’ Alive” fill the room, you can’t help but sway to the rhythm, the infectious beat pulling you in. Spencer stands by your side, watching with a small, amused smile as you get lost in the music.

“Come on, dance with me,” you say suddenly, holding out your hand to him.

Spencer hesitates for just a moment, then takes your hand, letting you pull him into the middle of the living room. His movements are a little awkward at first, but as you guide him, he begins to relax, matching your steps with a growing confidence.

“You know,” he says as the song plays on, “I think I might be starting to get it.”

“Starting to get what?” you ask, looking up at him with a grin.

“Why you love this music,” he replies, his eyes shining with affection as he pulls you closer. “It’s impossible not to feel happy when you hear it.”

You smile, resting your head against his chest as the two of you continue to dance, the sounds of the Bee Gees wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “I knew you’d understand,” you whisper, feeling perfectly content in his arms.

And as the music plays on, you realize that this moment—dancing in your living room with Spencer to the soundtrack of a bygone era—might just be one of your favorites yet.

As "More Than a Woman" begins to play, you feel Spencer’s grip on your hand tighten slightly, guiding you closer. The soft, romantic melody fills the room, and you notice him starting to hum along with the tune, his voice low and smooth.

You pause in the middle of a step, tilting your head up at him with a playful smirk. "How do you know the words to this one?" you ask, eyebrows raised in mock suspicion.

Spencer gives you a lopsided grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "There’s a lot of mystery left to me," he teases, his voice light as he continues humming the melody.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Is that so, Dr. Reid? I thought I knew all your secrets."

He just smiles, and as the chorus comes around, he surprises you by singing a few lines out loud, his voice warm and inviting, “More than a woman… more than a woman to me…”

His singing is soft but sincere, and it sends a thrill through you. He cuts in every few lines, really selling the lyrics as you dance together, his voice blending with the music in a way that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world.

He twirls you around, his hand steady in yours, and you can’t help but laugh as you stumble slightly, your foot bumping into the coffee table. You catch yourself before you trip, but your momentum sends you lightly into the couch.

Spencer’s laughter joins yours, the sound rich and infectious. “Careful,” he chuckles, pulling you back into his arms, his smile wide and genuine. “You’re supposed to dance, not redecorate.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but the joy on your face is undeniable. “I could care less,” you say, still laughing as you settle back into his rhythm. “As long as I’m dancing with you.”

Spencer’s eyes soften, and he dips his head closer to yours, pressing a light kiss to your forehead as you sway together to the music. “More than a woman… more than a woman to me…” he sings again, his voice a gentle whisper against your skin.

You close your eyes, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you. The music, Spencer’s laughter, the way he holds you so close—it all feels perfect, like a scene out of a dream. You can’t remember the last time you felt so carefree, so utterly content.

As the song plays on, you let go of any lingering tension, giving yourself over completely to the music and to Spencer’s embrace. Together, you dance through the living room, stumbling occasionally, bumping into furniture, but never once letting go of each other.

By the time the song fades out, you’re both breathless with laughter, your cheeks flushed from dancing and the sheer joy of the moment. Spencer pulls you in for one last twirl, then catches you as you spin back into his arms, holding you close as you both collapse onto the couch in a fit of giggles.

“See,” he says, his voice a little breathless as he looks down at you, “there’s still so much more you don’t know about me.”

You smile up at him, your heart full. “I can’t wait to find out,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him, the echoes of the music still lingering in the air around you.

He smiles as he holds onto you, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “And we have forever, which we can take one minute at a time.”

You pull back slightly, raising an eyebrow as you give him a playful look. “That was so corny, Spencer,” you tease, though the warmth in your voice betrays how much you love it.

He chuckles, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. “Maybe, but you know you love it,” he replies, pulling you even closer until your foreheads are almost touching.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the grin tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, pressing another quick kiss to his lips. “I guess I do.”

[r3dmooon]

Finding Wally in the Rain — Wally Darling x gn! reader

summery: reader stumbles across Wally while walking home in the rain.

wc: 0.2k

Master List

“Oh,” I expressed. “It’s raining?” 

Don’t get me wrong, I love the rain. Just…not walking in it. I was currently at Julie’s house, and I needed to get home since it was getting late. Of course it had to start raining then. I wore a jacket, but I lived almost opposite Julie's place, so I was going to get wet no matter what.

“I’ve got plenty of umbrellas,” Julie pointed out. “You can take one!”

“Thank you,” I thanked, grabbing a random one. I waved goodbye and I started the trek to my house. The sky was gray, fat drops of rain falling down. Almost like the sky was crying. 

“Wally?” I gasped out. He stood under a tree, like he was trying to keep out of the rain, but doing a poor job of it. His hair had fallen out of his iconic hairdo and his smile seemed a lot more forced. I rushed over to him and held the umbrella over the both of us. “What are you doing out in this?” I asked. 

“I was just on my way home from Barnaby’s when it started pouring,” Wally sighed in a frustrated sounding tone. 

“I’ll walk you home,” I smiled. 

Wally’s smile seemed to become more sincere as he kept trying to keep his hair up, “Thank you, darling.”

I couldn’t stop myself from reaching over and brushing Wally’s hair to the side, “Now lets go before you get sick.” 

Wally agreed, linking our arms as we started walking.

[itoshi-s]

──✧ ˚ · “ 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

*.✧ ft. 𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

*.✧ rin puts your early christmas gift to good use.

*.✧ wc: 4k. cw: nsfw, fem reader, very self-indulgent!, pet names (love, baby, pretty girl), the sfw part is sooo sweet i'm melting, slight choking and degradation (rin tells you to shut uponce lol), taking pictures in the act, reader has a belly button piercing. characters are 20+. not proof read // notes: rinnie my one and only <3 thinkin about him lots this christmas season !

"it's no fair!"

rin tries to fight back the amused smile that threatens to pull at his mouth, he really does. it seems like it's no use, though, when he has to hold his arm up to try and block the impact of the wrapping paper on his head.

"you just had to snoop around, didn't you?" you huff, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed from irritation and panic that both burst in your chest upon seeing your boyfriend, innocent as ever, unloading the shopping bags - even though this one single time, you specifically didn't ask him to.

to your horror, you could only watch the realization hit him and face light up as he held the collectors edition of his favorite director's top thrillers. extended and with additional commentary, you just knew it'd make him all giddy the second he unpacks it - he's watched these iconic pieces countless times before, after all, and with his inquiring nature, he'd love to go deeper into the lore.

you’ve hit the jackpot with this gift, that you were sure of, and you couldn't wait to see his reaction - but didn't want it to play out like this.

"i'm sorry," he laughs, sincerely even despite the amusement that lilts his tone. "sorry, love. i don't know what came over me, i should've listened."

you drop the freshly bought roll of wrapping paper onto the table, making sure to glare up at rin as he reaches for you and wraps his arms around your frame. he pulls you close to his chest, sturdy and warm underneath his hoodie, and you can try to huff and puff all you want, but it's just so painfully hard to do it - even playfully so - when he holds you so sweetly. you grumble a bit, something about him ruining his own surprise, and nuzzle your nose against the fluff of his sweatshirt.

"do you like it, though?" you ask, voice muffled but rin hears the hopeful tilt. "s'got all the extra scenes and all. the commentary too." you peek an eye up at your boyfriend, gaze glimmering when you see the smile on his face.

"dumb question." rin mumbles and gives your body a firm squeeze to get his point across. you yelp a bit as he continues, "of course i do. can we watch it tonight? or do i have to wait until christmas?" he teases and rests his hands on the small of your back, pinky finger dipping just barely underneath the waistband of your yoga pants.

you're not cruel and never could be - not with the look your striker boyfriend gives you, excitement pooling in the teal irises behind the thick curtain of black lashes. he's giddy like a little kid and you don't see this side of rin too often, despite him easing up throughout the years. and so,

"sure we can, baby." you unwrap your arms from around his slim waist and instead reach your hands up to cradle his jaw. leaning up, you give him a chaste kiss that tastes like your peppermint chapstick and the cup of flavored coffee he's been sipping on before you came home.

he hums into your mouth, tilting his head and leaning further towards you just when you're about to pull away. it's not enough, he's gotta thank you properly - and so he deepens the kiss, tongue slipping past your lips and lapping slowly, tenderly.

your knees nearly buckle at how it so quickly turns passionate, but as fast as it plays out, it as abruptly stops. rin breathes, lips moving against your own when he speaks. "you want one of yours?" he asks and you furrow your brows a bit.

"hm?"

"a present," he specifies, hands moving to rest on the small of your waist comfortably. he clears his throat, then pecks your lips quickly as he makes up his mind. "actually. just wait a sec."

you make a small sound of protest that falls deaf on rin's ears as he pulls away and dismisses you with a wave of a hand. you huff, watching as he skips up the stairs two steps at a time. you don't really mind how he ignores your whining - it'd be funny if you did, especially with the way rin seems far too excited to return the favor.

it's sweet, makes your teeth ache and heart grow and swell with unbearable amounts of love you hold for this boy - the way his eyes only ever seem to shine so brightly when it's around you.

he walks back into the kitchen barely a minute later, a neatly wrapped small box in his hand and it stirs your interest. you lean back against the kitchen counter, hands mindlessly playing with the hem of your sweater as he steps closer.

"god i hope you didn't spend too much." you blurt out before any thought filters it, and rin laughs as you blink once, purely out of worry. "what? don't laugh at me!"

"so what if i did?" rin quips, a teasing lilt to his voice but it still makes your shoulders and eyes drop, as if to say, oh, you didn't. he cracks a smile, feels the corners of his mouth twitch as he hands you the package. "kidding, baby. open up, you'll love this."

you've never really been too big on surprise gifts, always opting for more useful and handy presents, but that never meant you were any kind of ungrateful. both giving and receiving gifts were only ever fun because of how much thought the other person paid to making it, you thought, and the certainty and confidence in rin's voice makes you all the more excited.

as your fingers work on the light brown paper, rin speaks.

"it's not really big or anything, but i know you loved your last one.” oh- “it actually makes so much more sense to give it to you a little early, too."

you already have a clue what might be hiding behind the paper even before you finally pull the box out - and surely, there is a brand new baby pink polaroid camera, blinking right back at you from the packaging.

it might not be much to some, but it is everything to you - and rin instinctively opens his arms when you gasp and lean into him, some sort of an one arm hug and attempt to keep close to him.

"oh my god!" you sound breathy with excitement as you unbox the camera, feel the way it fits in your small hands all over again. "you remembered," you mumble, eyes darting back up to your boyfriend as if in disbelief.

rin shrugs, offers you an interested look instead. "yeah, it's been months since you lost the other one," he points out, "and i figured you'd want to take some pictures this season..."

it's no surprise he remembered, nor is the fact he's thought it through so well. it's rin, and he keeps everything in this mind of his. (he really does. trying to beat him at buying the most accurate present is useless, cause he'll always end up shocking you anyway.)

you stare down at the camera, fingers now aching to hold it up properly, to press down on the shutter. you smile to yourself, glancing up to see teal ones already looking down at you expectantly. he doesn't look nervous per se, but there's definitely a hint of anticipation.

"i love it," you grin, earnest and sweet as you take a step or two away, holding the camera up to your face. you look through the tiny lens, adjusting the angle so that the entirety of rin's body from waist upwards fits. "grab the present." you instruct, one eye peeking up from behind the camera.

he complies, reaches for the box and holds it up, until there's just a pair of bright turquoise irises staring right back at the lens from behind the package. the christmas tree twinkles faintly in the back, warm light fuzzy behind rin's broad shoulders. "good?" you nod, mouth pulling into a smile at the sight and without further wait, you press down on the shutter.

rin puts the package back down, gaze all the while focused on you, and he's glad he keeps watching - otherwise, he'd miss out on the joy written all over your face as you delicately pull the cartridge out. "first one down!" you chirp, the happy sound bleeding into a laugh.

he thinks he could eat you whole if it was the only way to savor all of you, so sweet and pure and all his.

you place the camera down on the kitchen table, flapping the photo around to speed up the process, "this is exciting." you muse and rin notes the way you bounce on your heels a little, a tell tale sign of how thrilled the gift's made you feel. "you gonna be my model again, rinnie?"

a pair of sturdy arms wrap around your waist, manhandle you just enough to plop you down on the counter. he noses at your neck, the spot just below your jaw that makes you shudder when he mouths at it, and rin hums with thought.

there's already a pile of various polaroids of him, sitting in one of your drawers and waiting for their turn to be tucked behind your phone case - but he'd be silly to mind any of it.

he used to be silly in his teenage years, blushing and protesting whenever you’d angle your camera at him, eyes fleeing away bashfully. what’s all that for? he asked once, a miffed expression on his face as he crossed his arms and slumped in his seat a bit. you laughed, thumb pressing down on the little heart on your screen to save the picture to your favorites. so that i can keep looking at you when you’re across the globe again, you retorted lightheartedly, eyes focused on your screen still but the fond smile you wore pulled at rin’s heart by it’s own. he gulped, aquamarine eyes boring into your oblivious features, and he vaguely remembers thinking that he’s fucked and done for - he was in love with you already, but that day he felt it suck him in deep, until there was no air to breathe and his soul soaked through with you, you, you. rin cleared his throat, straightening up in his seat as he leaned forward on the table.

you peeked an eye up at him, a short hum of question accompanying the look, and he gnawed on his bottom lip with anticipation. take another, he said then, voice softer than minutes ago and he swore he could see a spark ignite behind your irises. i don’t mind.

it might’ve been years since he fell in love with you all over again, but the heat still rises in his chest all the same upon the sight of you aiming your camera at him. he’s grown so addicted to the adoring look you’d give him after each taken snap and he’s selfish, doesn’t want to deny himself the sight - and so, rin presses a kiss to your jugular as he murmurs,

“mhm. whenever you wish, love.”

it's suffocating, the way rin doesn't take no for an answer as he works his way down, mouthing and nibbling on your scorching skin. your whining falls on deaf ears as you push at his head, the air in your lungs growing hot and blood rushing through your veins. he just doesn't listen, even as you try to reason that there's not nearly enough time to be doing this now, that the guests will be there in two hours and you didn't turn the timer on the oven so you have to keep an eye on it. he only gives a slight grunt and ignores your whining.

you should've seen it coming, parading around in just a pair of shorts and a long sleeve top that's so tight, rin could make out the way your hardened nipples poked through the thin cotton. he's amused, he really is, with the shocked look behind your bambi eyes as he pulled you in for a kiss far too hungry and desparete to fit in the kitchen scenery - what else did you expect?

now he has you spread on the living room floor, the wool carpet rubbing against your bare skin and chaffing his knees as he moves to rest between your legs. maybe it is the mulled wine that both you and rin enjoyed earlier or maybe it's the close proximity of the fireplace that brings a few droplets of perspiration to collect across your hairline, cheeks flushed red and eyes bleary as you speak,

"rin-" it comes out as more of a moan than a proper sound, accompanied by your eyes rolling back when one of rin's hand reaches to grab at your mound. the thin silk of your shorts feels cool against your heated skin and urges you to shudder. "baby, i'm serious, we don't have the time," you insist, voice almost pleading.

your arms twitch to prop you up, lean up just a bit to try and catch your boyfriend's gaze, but the wake of kisses he keeps pressing to your tummy is enough to make your head roll backwards instead.

rin nearly purrs against your abdomen, palm rubbing on your clothed cunt as he mouths at the smooth skin. his teeth skim over the swarovski sitting neatly at your belly button, give a gentle, playful tug that makes your toes curl. "we do," he mumbles and your jaw slacks in defeat.

he can make it quick, he supposes. of course he can, and he will, if it's the one single rule he has to play by in order to get his fill. in fact, he still hadn't touched you properly yet and the thin material of your shorts already seems soaked through... yeah, it'll be quick.

you gasp, loud and trembling when rin's mouth eventually reaches your heat. he slides a hand up to grab at one of your tits, tongue lolling out to take a long lap up your folds and he groans. catching your nipple between two fingers and giving an experimental roll and tug, he watches your chest ripple with moans that get caught somewhere deep in your throat. you keen breathily, the arch in your back abruptly smoothed out by rin's forearms pressing down on your hips.

the grip of time doesn't let you fully submit to the pleasure still, body taut and head spinning. it holds you back, a film over your mind, and so you try again, "rinnie-"

"shut up," rin grunts, mouth full of cunt and large palm kneading at the swell of your breast. he glances up at you from his spot between your thighs, eyes hazy and heavy with desire. "need y'now, baby. so be good for me." his lips move against your folds as he speaks, the friction making your eyes roll back. "i'll be quick."

you've no problem trusting his words, considering he's proven countless of times how he has your body memorized better than any technique or strategy. you gasp, fingers tugging at the dark green strands and as if instinctively, you push him closer to where your heat is throbbing and leaking pathetically onto his awaiting tongue.

rin senses your surrender, feels it in the way your thighs tighten by his ears and how your clit throbs in his mouth. his eyes flutter, desire pooling in his gut and twisting as he groans. "good girl." he croons and gives your cunt a sloppy kiss, one that has you squealing at the lewd sound.

his tongue dips past your opening, nose nudging against your clit as he slurps and suckles. you've got so much to give him, it's always so much, too much considering he knows no restraints. your tummy feels warm and pussy flutters upon the familiar pull of your orgasm building up.

"gonna cum," it's more of a whimper than anything and rin's fingers twitch on the swell of your breast.

he gives your clit a suck, soft and languid as his tongue flattens on your folds and laps, and white hot pleasure sears through your veins. it's sudden considering rin's pace, as if lazy yet desperate at the same time - passionate - and makes your body seize up, hands tugging on his hair as you grind all across his mouth. you ride out your climax, shameless in the way you use his tongue to prolong the sparks of pleasure, and rin can only groan at the treatment.

by the time he pulls away and sits back on his heels, the very last wave of bliss is still rolling down your thighs, chest heaving and eyes only fluttering open upon rin's warmth leaving you. you watch as he eases his sweats down, just enough to let his cock spring free, and your brows furrow.

"spread 'em a bit more." rin instructs, voice a gravelly hum as he reaches over to grab a cushion or two from the couch. you obey, thighs trembling with the remnants of your orgasm, and rin gives a sound of satisfaction.

he doesn't waste time to speak, instead slides a hand under your hips and easily lifts your ass off the floor to place the pillows underneath. you fist at the carpet, eyes following one of his hands that wraps around the girth of his cock and gives a few strokes.

"fuck." rin sighs, shimmies around a bit to eventually kick off his sweats before he aligns himself at your core. "you were whinin' around not even ten minutes ago.. look at yourself now." you give him a look, both urging him to hurry and begging to shut up. he smirks, confidence warm in his veins as he spreads your wetness on his reddened tip, teases your clit with the way it catches. "say please."

you groan in protest and rin laughs, lighthearted at the sight of your annoyed expression. he wipes it right off your features with just a single forward roll of his hips, and gasps at the initial resistance your snug walls give him.

"please," you whimper, hands resting on top of his as he lays them on the small of your waist. he urges himself deeper, bottoms out until his thighs press against your own and your cunt squeezes down on him right to the very base. "fuck me good." you breathe and watch rin's eye twitch.

he lands a smack to the side of your ass, sharp enough so that it elicits a mewl from between your lips, and he tightens his grip on your hips. "that's more like it."

the downright mean lilt to his baritone makes your pussy twitch, blush spilling down your cheeks as he sets his rhythm. it's rough and urgent, gives away the desperation building up in rin's chest and ghosting behind his turquoise eyes.

head tilting backwards, you gasp and sputter when the tip of his cock bullies right at your cervix. your legs kick out involuntarily and rin's eyes twinkle with amusement as he thrusts deep, pulls your hips forward to meet his halfway. you keen, body squirming at the pull in your tummy.

rin steadies your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh until he's certain it'll bruise and mark you with his love. "so pretty like this." he rasps, chest rumbling with a groan upon the sight of the tears that cling to your lashline. "my prettiest girl, takes me so well." as if on cue, his gaze drops to where your cunt stretches around his girth, struggling to fit it all in. he feels you leak when he eases himself out a few inches and gives in to the ache in his hand to reach down, thumb gliding across your clit.

you suck in a breath, lungs aching. "please, rinnie." the clammy but oh so featherlight brush of your fingers across his forearm sparks his interest. he knows what you want, the need almost substantial as it radiates off your heated skin when you gently coax his hand around your neck.

lust washes over his senses, thick and heavy as it clings to his conscious and sends a jolt of despair through his flesh. the look you give him, doe eyes glimmering with tears and need, makes his head spin. fingers flexing around your jugular, rin has to swallow back a moan.

"right here, yeah? want me to choke you out?" the tilt to his tone is downright demeaning, hidden behind a coo that turns your brains into mush.

aquamarine eyes glance down to yours, hold your stare as you grow putty in his grip. you nod, quickly so as if you're ashamed of the weight the gesture bears, and whimper upon his hand tightening. "rin- hah, please."

he knocks the breath out of your throat with a single squeeze and leans down to swallow up your moan with a kiss.

"shit. shit," rin feels his shoulders tremble, the exhilaration turning his thrusts erratic and unsteady. he knows he promised to be quick, but the way your cunt milks him and sucks him deeper makes him hope you won't mind if he goes to break his word. he's so ridiculously close, feels the red hot pleasure creep up and it's a pain to deny himself the high.

your thighs involuntarily jerk around his hips, tightening around his hand that still works on your swollen bud. you're close, he feels it, sees it as your mouth parts and eyes threaten to roll back.

you look entirely fucked out, as if you've been laying there at his mercy for hours already - and he wishes he could keep the image engraved into his mind, reach for it on the days where thousands of kilometers keep you away-

huh.

he gets it now.

you give a confused hum when his movement comes to a halt, the grip on your neck loosening just slightly as the other hand leaves your body altogether. you watch questioningly when rin catches his breath above you, a new found interest to his gaze.

before you can voice out your concern, his eyes already move to the coffee table, searching and seemingly finding the thing in question as he reaches over. you tilt your head, following his line of sight, and your breath hitches.

rin steadies himself in his spot between your legs, gives you just the slightest move forward to try and get your features to twist in bliss all over again. blood rushes to your face in embarrassment as you watch him adjust the camera to fit all of you in it's frame.

"holy fuck." it's merely a breath as he speaks, husky with arousal. "you're fucking perfect like this."

the sheer desire in rin's voice might be more than enough to bring you to your climax, you think as he groans, thumb reaching to pad at your bottom lip. he presses down on the swollen flesh, wet and glimmering with spit, and fixes his grip on your neck.

it's sinful, something magazines would kill themselves over to put on their front pages. it exceeds anything he's seen before, the way your eyes stare right through him and the camera, the hem of your shirt hiked up as the smooth skin peeks through. it's addicting, the way your reddened lip obediently rests under his pad as the rest of his fingers stay heavy on your jugular.

it's too much, the entirety of you. you're always everything and too much at the same time.

rin presses down on the shutter, doesn't wait until the cartridge comes out as he gently tosses it to the side. sparing the device a single glance to make sure it's in tact, he corrects his grip on your neck before turning his whole attention back to you.

there's many things that get him riled up even further and you've seen it play out countless times before. (more so, you're always the one to blame for rin losing his sanity.) but the look that he settles on you now is brand new, something borderline lovesick, teetering off the edge of lust.

he flexes his fingers around your neck, vice grip making your head spin and hips jitter when he resumes his thrusts. leaning down, rin lolls his tongue out to lick up your jaw, sticky with perspiration and sweet with the taste of you.

"sorry, love," he rasps right by your ear. "but i can't be quick with you this time."

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

[cheritzteam]

[The Ssum] ✨More Special Because You’re Here with Us✨ <The Ssum: Love from Today> 2nd Anniversary Event Announcement

Hello, dear lab participant.

On August 17th, <The Ssum: Love from Today> turns two years old✌.

It’s even more special because it is a day where we can greet our Lab Participants who love <The Ssum>.

We would like to express our sincere gratitude💌 to our Lab Participants who have been with their Ssumone today as always.

To celebrate this special day, we're bringing you news of an event celebrating the 2nd anniversary from the Forbidden Lab!

< ① City of Free Men : Celebratory Lab >

For the following period, a Celebratory Lab📚 celebrating 2nd Anniversary this year will open in the City of Free Men.

Please share with the other Lab Participants about the Ssumone you loved the most for the past two years,

and try your chances at becoming a lucky lab participant(11 Korean and 11 international users, total 22) for a reward of 100 Aurora Batteries and Aurora Creature Box Bundle!

< ② Lab Participant Survey >

For our two-year anniversary, we're taking the opportunity to listen to all of you even more closely.

Please take the Lab Participant Survey✔️ and help us make <The Ssum> even better! We will take the time to review all of your valuable feedback in detail🔍

All participants will receive 22 Aurora Batteries as a reward, and 22 lucky draw winners will receive an additional 100 Aurora Batteries.

Link to Lab Participant Survey

Event Period: August 1st, 2024 (Thu) 9 AM ~ August 19th, 2024 (Mon) 9 AM KST* Winner Announcement: August 29th, 2024 (Thu) KST

*Participation rewards and lucky draw rewards will be paid in one lump sum. *Google sign-in is required to participate in the survey, and only one participation per account is allowed.

< ③ Love Research Report >

✒️The Love Research Report is back!

Let's check out how many stories the encounter with the forbidden lab contains.

Tap the Report Icon📋 on the main screen during the event!

You'll be able to create a special love research report about you and your Ssumone.

Love Research Report TIP🔖

You can only create one report for each Ssumone. Try changing your current match!

The information recorded in the report is based on the time of creation.

You cannot edit a report once it has been created. 

You can always check your created report at the bottom of your [Profile] page, even after the event ends.

♥Bonus Event♥

Use dedicated hashtag #TheSsum_2ndAnniversary_LoveResearch_Report on X(Twitter), Tumblr, Instagram, or Tikok, and share a screenshot of your Love Research Report on social media!

22 lucky winners will receive 100 Aurora Batteries and 1 Time Machine Ticket.🎁

Event Period: August 1st, 2024 (Thu) 9 AM ~ August 19th, 2024 (Mon) 9 AM KST* Winner Announcement: August 29th, 2024 (Thu) KST

※Disclaimer※ * We’ll reach out to the Bonus Event winners via social media DM. Make sure to reply to us in 10 days. * For Instagram users - you should DM us a link to your post via our official account(@thessum_official) to ensure that your post is noticed. * Posts should be set to public until winner announcement, and plagiarism is prohibited.

< ④ 2nd Anniversary Special Support >

To celebrate our two-year anniversary, we have a special gift🎁 for all lab participants who access <The Ssum>.

In addition to various lab support items and a commemorative Trivial Feature, 

don’t miss the chance to save the Second anniversary’s Ssumones photo memento in your album!

Game-Access Rewards available through: August 1st, 2024 (Thu) 9 AM ~ August 19th, 2024 (Mon) 9 AM KST* Commemorative Trivial Features and Illustration: August 17th, 2024 (Sat) *Based on the lab participant’s time zone.

We will continue to do our best to provide our Lab Participants with heart racing moments🥰.

Thank you!

-Cheritz-

[liyue-harbour]

happy birthday, your grace

happiest birthday to my favourite genshin character, wriothesley! 🫶🏻 a ‘lil something for his special day, i hope that you all enjoy it <33

masterlist

“what is all this?” wriothesley inquired, his tone a curios mixture of sternness and genuine interest.

his office, once adorned with rich tapestries and antique furnishings that held an air of refined elegance now carried a different note—a note of celebration and warmth. it was wriothesley’s birthday, and against the backdrop of his meticulously organised desk, you had orchestrated a small surprise. a modest tea set adorned the polished surface, delicate porcelain cups reflecting the soft glow of the antique lamps. a simple yet decadent cake, adorned with intricate icing that mirrored the patterns of fontaine sat in the center, waiting to be enjoyed.

as the day drew to a close, you ushered wriothesley into his office, a conspiratorial smile playing on your lips. the surprise in his stormy eyes was evident as he took in the unexpected scene before him. his office did not look like this when he left earlier.

“it’s a celebration, your grace.” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “a modest affair but a celebration nonetheless.”

a flicker of surprise crossed wriothesley’s features before being replaced by a measured composure. “i see,” he said, gaze lingering on the tea set and the cake. “and what is the occasion?”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his feigned obviousness. “wrio…,” you declared with a mock solemnity, “it’s your birthday.”

he regarded you with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “very well,” he acquiesced, taking a step closer. “shall we proceed with this…celebration?”

the two of you settled into the plush chairs, and you poured the fragrant tea into the delicate cups. the room was bathed in a arm, golden glow as the lamps cast their light upon the scene, creating an ambience that felt both regal and intimate.

“you do realise,” wriothesley remarked, taking a sip of tea, “that celebrations of this nature are not a customary affair in fontaine.”

“consider it a deviation from the customary, then,” you suggested, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “a chance to break free from tradition and enjoy the simpler pleasures of life.” he hums, and for a moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift.

you clinked your tea cup against his, and the rich aroma of the tea envelopes the room, filling the space with a sense of tranquility. after a while, you signalled to the cake, it’s tempting allure impossible to ignore. “shall we indulge in a slice of fontaine’s finest creation?” you suggested, gesturing towards the cake adorned with edible depictions of the nation’s iconic landmarks.

wriothesley nodded, and you carefully sliced a portion for each of you. the cake was a masterpiece, it’s layers a harmonious blend of flavours that elicited a quiet hum of satisfaction with every bite. as the last crumbs disappeared, you couldn’t help but notice the genuine smile that graced wriothesley’s lips—the kind of smile that was rare and precious. the atmosphere, once steeped in the formalities of the fortress, now held a warmth that transcended the grandeur of the office.

“thank you for this,” wriothesley said, his voice carrying a sincerity that reached the depth of his stormy eyes. “this has been an unexpected but pleasant deviation from the usual routine.”

the glow of the lamps seemed to intensify, casting a soft radiance over the room, “it’s the least i could do,” you replied, own smile reflecting the joy of the moment. “birthdays are meant to be celebrated, even the almighty duke’s.” wriothesley chuckles as he takes another sip of tea.

“happy birthday, wriothesley. i love you so much.”

“i love you too”

[magicalbats]

Tell Me You're Mine (Scar x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18,321

Warnings: afab!reader, rimming (female receiving), cunnilingus, facesitting, simulated sex through clothes, cum in pants (male), spit, implied/innate femdom, pathetic sub boy behavior, stalking

A/N: Literally was not going to be able to move on until I got this out of my system lol I promise no one fully understands just how crazy he's made me!! I see the way he looks at us and I just!! Ugh!!

⭐

Your terminal beeps, signaling an incoming call. 

Thankfully it doesn't cause you to startle the same way it had the first few dozen times it started making noises at you and you reach back to press the button on the side with a newly practiced, casual motion. It might have surprised you, how little thought you actually give the strange device and its near constant presence at your back now that you’ve grown accustomed to it but, well. Your contacts list was awfully short, wasn’t it? 

The projection of Chixsia’s photo ID blinks into existence before your face like a real life magician's trick, the hologram faint and irresolute against the harsh backdrop of craggy mountains and lifeless dead trees. In truth you don’t understand this technology much more than you understand anything else about this world. But just as with every other unfamiliar thing here you’ve taken it in stride and adapted to it. At the very least, you were just glad you no longer had to wrestle with the instinctive reflex to reach up and try to swat the holo icon away like it was nothing more than an incessant gnat. That had quickly proven a rather embarrassing reaction on your part. 

“Rover!” 

“Hey, Chixsia. Did you need something?” 

“No, nothing in particular. I just wanted to check in with you and see how things were going!” 

You’re not so sure you believe that and at your doubtful hum she breaks embarrassingly fast. 

“Okay, okay. It’s just that we haven’t seen you since yesterday afternoon when we were trying to figure out that puzzle box the magistrate left for you. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to make sure everything was alright, that’s all.”

Warmed by her sincere concern, you feel your mouth start to tug into a slow smile. “I’m fine, but thank you for thinking of me. You and Yangyang have certainly made me feel welcomed.” 

“Well, of course. That’s kind of our job, isn’t it?” She lets out a bright, tittering laugh on the other side of the line, and you lift your brow in question. 

“Is it really?” 

Whatever she says next is lost under the creeping howl of wind that rushes through the ravine you’re standing in. The uneven cut of rocks and boulders long gouged by the elements in such an inhospitable environment amplifies the acoustic reverberation and almost seems to make it echo in the space between your ears. Wincing, you drop to a defensive crouch on the ground and peer around you in search of any Tacet Discords that may have taken notice of your position. Much to your relief though, the coast still looked to be clear. 

You, paranoid? Maybe so, but it was in part what had kept you alive this long. If you were a little on edge it was for a good reason. Huanglong had certainly given you more than enough incentive to stay on your guard in just the short amount of time since you’d woken up here and you weren’t inclined to start throwing caution to the wayside just yet. 

“Woah, what is that?” Chixsia’s voice rings out over the connection, the hologram weakly flashing when the signal falters. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” 

“No.” Yes, she had, but you weren’t about to tell her that. “It was just the wind. Nothing to be concerned about, promise.” 

A single beat of surprised silence passes over the connection. “Where are you that has wind like that?” 

“I’m up in the mountains. I decided to take on a commission since I had the free time anyway, and the money was good.” 

The little white lie comes out smooth and natural, thanks in no small part to all the rehearsing you’d done on the way up here. You still feel a distant pang of guilt at having to deceive Chixsia of all people but it couldn’t be helped. If she knew the truth behind your solo trek out into the wilderness there was a very real possibility she might take that as her cue to rally the troops for a search and rescue party, and you couldn’t have that. Not yet. 

“Huh? But why would you do that? If you’d needed money you should have just said something! I’m sure the magistrates office would have been happy to provide for your living expenses while you’re here.” 

You shake your head, momentarily forgetting that she couldn’t see it through the audio-only call. “I don’t want to burden anyone more than necessary or freeload, and Jinzhou has already done so much for me. Besides … isn’t there a saying about how idle hands make for troubled minds, or something like that?” 

She offers a brief sound of consideration in response, mulling that over. “I’m not sure if that’s exactly how it goes but I get what you mean. Still, are you sure everything’s alright? You seemed a bit distracted when we went our separate ways yesterday. You’d tell us if you needed help, wouldn’t you?” 

“Of course I would.” This white lie isn’t so small and it comes out with more difficulty as a result. But you’re quick to mask it under the guise of being predisposed, and you’re not quiet about it as you climb to your feet before spinning around in a slow circle to survey your surroundings. You make sure to tread carelessly while you do it so that the sound of your footsteps might reach her all the way back in the city. “Not to rush you, Chixsia, but did you need anything else? I have to go.” 

“No, no. That was all. If you’re sure everything’s okay then … I guess I’ll let you get back to it.” 

The note of disappointment in her voice is unmistakable, and it makes you smile again even when you try very hard not to. “Relax. You have my word that there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got everything under control over here. And hey, the next time we go out for lunch it’ll be my treat. How’s that sound?” 

To your relief, she perks up immediately. “It sounds like a deal! You’d better not forget you said that, Rover! I’ll hold you to it!” 

“I will, I will. Bye for now, Chixsia.” 

The line drops mere seconds after her enthusiastic parting and you let your shoulders slump once the holo ID blinks out. That should at least take care of your alibi, so there was that. You can’t help but wish it had been just about anyone other than the guileless junior officer though, because she seemed much too naive and trusting to pull one over on in good conscience. Oh well. Necessary evils and all that. 

Breathing out a terse huff through your nose, you crane your head back to look up at the craggy side of the ridge and squint against the low setting sun. Still no signs of, well. Anything at all. Even the last Tacet Discord you’d run into had been miles back and was now long forgotten. But that’s not what you were out here for. If Chixsia or anyone else had pressed the matter you would have readily used the excuse that it was just part of the job you’d taken on and you were hunting down some monster or another. You were relatively certain that they would have believed that story without much fuss, especially when this world seemed to have more than its fair share of them. It was at least commonplace enough not to draw suspicion.

But you were hoping to lure out a demon of a completely different breed, and you were certain no one would believe you were serious about it even if you did tell them. They’d think you’d gone crazy, hit your head somewhere along the way and were now suffering the debilitating consequences. For all the sense this foolhardy plan of yours made, hell, maybe you did take a too hard hit to the noggin at some point. That seemed about as likely as anything else. 

You knew you weren’t imagining the feeling of being watched though. That unmistakable sensation of eyes on you, tracking your every move, has followed you everywhere you go in Jinzhou since the first moment you came to. Strolling along the busy streets or wandering into the quieter residential neighborhoods, passing through one of the bustling markets or making your way out to the militant outpost at the edge of the city. It doesn’t matter where you go, that feeling always remains. 

The one and only place it seemed to fade to a distant afterthought, you’ve noticed, was inside the City Hall building, but you couldn’t exactly hole yourself up there for the rest of your life. It just wasn’t feasible, for starters, and you weren’t entirely sure yet if you could place all of your trust in them anyway. It’s hardly any wonder then that with no other choice and the time to spare while you awaited the magistrates return, you’d finally decided to take matters into your own hands. 

“Let’s see now. If I were a shameless stalker, I wonder where I'd hide.” You murmur under your breath as you turn, examining the way you’d come for any hint of another person trailing you from behind. In all honesty you already knew the identity of at least one of the culprits but you didn’t want to jump to pointing the finger at him without sufficient evidence first. He probably didn’t deserve that leeway but you were still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt in this. 

Not because he’d given you any reason to believe he wasn’t that kind of person, but because you’d long had the sense that there were at least two separate individuals keeping tabs on you, if not more. One was almost imperceptible and easily ignored save the periodic chill in the air that seemed to suggest their interest in you was less than innocent or friendly. 

The other was Scar. 

All red hot and static charged, his laser focused attention was hard to miss even when he was doing the utmost to conceal himself and his heated stare. But once he’d revealed himself to you out in that desolate, abandoned village you’d been able to easily discern him from the other on multiple occasions now. He was still following you, yes, but so was that icier, less obvious presence. Hiking out into the unwelcoming mountain range hadn’t dissuaded either of them but neither had they made their move yet. Curious. Were the two conflicting forces perhaps acting to repel one another and keeping them both mutually at bay? 

Turning that over in your head, you complete one last full circuit survey of the surroundings in hopes of spotting at least some hint of another presence in the ravine with you. An out of place shadow on the ground, a clatter of misplaced rocks or perhaps even a tuft of haphazard hair its owner doesn’t conceal himself fast enough to hide. At this point you would have been happy with anything at all if it just reassured you that you weren’t going crazy. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” 

Nothing. There wasn’t a damn thing that looked like it didn’t belong or warranted any amount of doubt. In truth the area almost seemed completely void of life save your own and the occasional bird you could make out far in the distance when they flew by overhead. 

So not even that troublesome man wanted to show himself, huh? What a predicament this was turning into. You’d thought for sure he at least would have jumped at the chance as soon as you were alone and hopefully draw the other out of hiding in the process. 

Oh well. You still had plan B to fall back on. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun is dipping low on the horizon and casting everything in a bright ultraviolet glare by the time you reach the river at the far end of the ravine. It’s situated in a natural alcove cut out of the rock face by the constant buffeting of elements; wind and rain, and the freezing snow of winter which had left myriad cracks and uneven dips littered across the ground. The rising jut of the ridgeline made for a relatively fortified spot to set up camp for the night where it would be difficult for anyone or anything to sneak up on you and catch you unawares. After doing a preliminary inspection to ensure there weren’t any wolf or bear dens you’d be encroaching on, you deem it to be as safe as it was likely going to get. 

While you work to get settled in, unburdening yourself of your supplies pack and erecting a small campfire to hopefully cook a fresh fish or two on later, you remain keenly aware of the eyes that still linger on you. Even all the way out here you couldn’t escape them and for the moment at least you weren’t quite sure which party they belonged to. Was it only Scar who had followed you all this way or had both of them taken the bait? 

Hopefully you would find out soon enough. 

The minutes crawl by, quiet and uneventful, save the hopeful crackle of the kindling catching on dry wood. 

Finally deciding that you were satisfied with the modest flame you’ve managed to build up, you make a casual show of finding your feet and stretching your arms high over your head. You weren’t overly confident in your own acting abilities but if Scar really was somewhere out there watching you from a distance then believability probably didn’t matter much. Frankly you were just surprised he’d shown even this much self restraint. 

Turning away from the makeshift camp with a small rag in hand, you shuffle over to the edge of the riverbank where you relieve yourself of your sword and then your terminal. Your shoes and utility straps quickly follow, then your tunic dress. The last thing to go are your bottoms, leaving you standing there completely nude. Your nipples stand up in stiff, achingly hard points against the cool mountain air as you take a first tentative step into the water. It’s cold but not freezing, and you merely let out a soft hiss when you force yourself to wade further out into the slow moving stream despite its unwelcoming chill. 

Was this a stupid, reckless and irresponsible plan? Undoubtedly. There was no telling what dangers you were inviting by doing this but it was the only option you could think of that might be too tempting for your voyeurs to resist. If they wouldn’t come out of hiding when you were armed and ready for them, then perhaps the vulnerability of your nakedness would do the trick. 

Fighting back the clatter of your teeth, you slowly sink down to submerge yourself up to your waist. A bit of awkward shifting soon locates a relatively smooth rock for you to perch on, and you try to relax into the crisp water as you set in to wash your body clean. This at least isn’t wholly feigned. Your skin was sticky with clammy sweat after the long trek so you were glad for a bath even if nothing more productive than that came of it. 

The following stretch of moments is still and serenely picturesque, save the distant cries of a lone raven and the periodic sound of splashing while you wash. It would have been rather nice if only it was just a little bit warmer. You wanted nothing more than to rush through it and hurry back to the fire as quickly as possible, but you force your hands to work at a deliberately sedate pace so that you might give whoever was watching you plenty of time to work up the courage to act. Honestly you hadn’t thought Scar of all people would need that kind of consideration but … 

At last, a soft yet sudden clatter of displaced rocks sounds from somewhere just behind you and jars you from your thoughts. It takes a great deal of effort to stamp down the urge to turn and look, but you do your best to pretend as if you hadn’t noticed it while you scrub the rag down the length of your thigh. This was a delicate situation. If you reacted too soon you ran the risk of spooking them and scaring them away. But if you reacted too late after they were already right on top of you then there was a very real chance they might succeed in overpowering you. Clearly you’d just need to trust that your instincts would see you through this and hope for the best. 

So you wait, counting off each individual second in your head until the next sound reaches your ears, a little closer this time. Pebbles disturbed on the ground, you think, and nothing more to indicate what it might be. The thought that it could be a Tacet Discord crosses your mind and almost makes you spin around to check but you refrain, too determined to get to the bottom of this stalking situation to give in. You just sorely hoped this foolish gamble of yours paid off. 

But the longer it goes on the less likely it seems that it might be Scar watching on from the shadows. He hadn’t seemed the cautious type anyway, but he certainly wouldn’t have had any reason for such reticence after already showing himself to you as boldly as he had once before. 

It must have been the other one then, you decide. But why were they still lingering back there instead of taking advantage of the ample opportunity you’d practically handed them? You couldn’t make sense of it. 

Then you finally hear it. The unmistakable thump of footsteps. Heavy boots that tread the ground on long, confident strides and steadily approach the riverbank at an unhurried, almost casual pace. That realization makes your instincts go absolutely haywire as anticipatory jitters settle low in your gut and set you to vibrate. Somehow there was a certain familiarity in that canter, defying all logic and reason, but you’d thought — 

“Oh, Rover ~” 

Every single hair on your body immediately stands on end to accompany the chill that races down your spine. Heart rate quickening, you carefully twist around to look behind you as calmly as you can manage it. Instinctively you wanted to lunge for your sword where it was resting only a few feet away and take comfort in its grounding weight in your hands. Logically, however, you knew that any sudden movements had the potential to escalate the situation far beyond your control so you try your best to stay level headed. 

And sure enough, it is indeed Scar making his way across the barren ground towards you. In the flesh and just as arrogant as he’d been back in that ramshackle village, you’re more than just a bit chagrined to find. Except he’s not alone. And it’s not the mysterious woman who’d shown up to retrieve him after his Elysium broke. 

Breath catching in your chest, you stare wide eyed at the person hanging motionless from where Scar’s holding onto the back of their jacket. Based on the build you think it’s a man and the toes of his shoes drag bonelessly against the ground behind him, arms hanging just as limp in the front. Either dead or knocked out cold. For his sake, you sorely hoped Scar had shown him some amount of mercy and it wasn’t the former. 

Your body is so tense, the muscles locked up in preparation for a fight, that it almost hurts as you shift further around to face him and his onward approach head on. It doesn’t seem to bother Scar one little bit though, his lack of concern obvious when he merely grins down at you in response. Undeterred and utterly shameless. 

Stepping right up to the edge of the bank, he finally saunters to a stop and carelessly tosses his burden down at his feet. You track the unknown man with your eyes, but he doesn’t stir even when one of his arms flops out to land half in the chilly water. Like a puppet that’s had its strings cut. 

You quickly snap your attention back up at the Overseer, fearlessly looking into that leering face of his. “Who is that? And what did you do to him?” 

“What, not even a friendly hello first? How very cruel you are, Rover, but that’s alright. We have plenty of time to properly greet one another in due time. And as for your question … if you’ll recall our last conversation he’s exactly what I warned you about when we first met. I told you there were multiple factions fighting over you and vying for your attention didn’t I, my dear?” Tipping his head to one side, Scar peers down at you consideringly. He may have been smiling but the glint in his mismatched eyes seemed to suggest that he wasn’t particularly amused right now. How curious. 

“You should listen to me next time.” He goes on.  “I’m not in the habit of speaking so idly that my warnings can go unheeded. I only speak the truth. At least when it comes to you, anyway. I meant everything I said before.” 

“That doesn’t tell me anything, Scar. Who is this person?” 

He gives his head a slow shake, laughing low under his breath. “Yet another inconsequential insect, that’s all. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about. They’re always buzzing around you like flies, aren’t they? Well, you won’t have to concern yourself with this one again. I already took care of him for you.” 

Realizing that this wasn’t getting you anywhere, you take a deep, calming breath in through your nose and let it out from your mouth. You’d just have to attack this from a different angle. “Is he dead? Can you at least answer that?” 

“Not yet he isn’t ~” 

Alright, well. You didn’t very much like that sing-song tone coming from him. “That’s good to hear, but why did you attack him?” 

Cooing softly, mockingly, Scar draws his brows up in an affected, put upon look of feigned pity. “Isn’t it obvious? I was willing to play nice up until this one here decided to enjoy the little show you were putting on a bit too much, that’s all. Oh, but don’t fret over the likes of him. You needn’t concern yourself with such trivialities. He’s just a peeping Tom. A pervert. He only got what he deserved.” 

You pin him with a doubtful look at that, frowning. “What does that make you then? Something tells me you didn’t mind the show much either.” 

“Me?” A surprised guffaw bursts out of him, his body language abruptly shifting towards restlessness as he brings a hand up and places it emphatically over his heart. “You wound me, Rover. Really, you do. I’d never sink to such lows. I’m not without my pride, and you’d do well not to forget that. If you’re going to come to me it’ll be willingly and without any tricks. No deceit. That’s what I promised you the first time, isn’t it? A fair and honest exchange?”  

Pausing, Scar takes a moment to drag his heated gaze over the curve of your bare shoulders and neck, and the spot where your arms are loosely crossed in front of your breasts. It’s more to protect them from the chill than from his attention when it was clearly already much too late for that but it seems to delight him all the same. His grin widens, stretching across his face in eager slow motion to settle into a look of giddy anticipation, unnerving you deeply, before he goes on. 

“I don’t need to stoop to that kind of spineless behavior. I wasn’t the one fisting my damned cock from the shadows while you touched yourself out in the open for all to see. If it was my attention you wanted you’ve got it. But I’m not about to sit by while someone else gets off thinking about putting their hands on you. Either you’ll have me or you’ll have no one. I hope that’s clear enough for you, little lamb.” 

You’re more than just a bit blindsided by that declaration and you simply stare up at him in bewildered silence for a long stretch, mouth slightly agape. Of course this doesn’t come as a complete surprise though. You’d gotten the sense that Scar was a truly exhausting individual from your first short encounter with him but it was clear now that you hadn’t understood the full scope of it. He’d already decided that you were his (or would it have been more accurate to say that he was yours?) without stopping long enough to consider your choice in the matter. And it was starting to look like he just might be the most jealous prone man you'll ever meet in this lifetime or the next, considering the unconscious person he’s thrown at your proverbial doorstep with all the pomp and ceremony of a wild cat gifting its favorite human with a fresh kill. The entire thing was completely absurd. 

It was also perilous and indescribably risky, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t turn it back around in your favor though. You had to at least try.  

“I won’t say I’m flattered but I can understand where you’re coming from. It’s hard watching someone else covet what you also want, isn’t it?” You say, trying for reasonable diplomacy. “But does that mean no one else is watching us right now? Were you and him the only ones following me?” 

He issues a sharp bark of laughter in response. “Hah! You really are something else, aren’t you? I practically rip my heart out and give it to you on a silver platter but you’re still more concerned about everyone else than you are with me. Ahh, and yet they call me the cruel and twisted one, don’t they?” 

At Scar’s dramatic, over exaggerated sigh, you shoot him a wry look. It’s an effort not to grudgingly smile at his antics but you manage to refrain, somehow. The very last thing you needed was to encourage him any further. “Just answer the question, Scar. I might be inclined to be a bit more welcoming if you do.” 

Chuckling, he drops the act entirely now and lifts his arms up to indicate the side of the mountain as a whole, like a ringmaster directing his stage. “That’s right, Rover. It’s just you and me now. There was someone else but I’m afraid they ran off to hide elsewhere once I made my move. They don’t like the Fractsidus very much, you see, and they’d rather not have to deal with me if they can help it.” 

Turning his attention downward, he reaches out to nudge at the unconscious man’s ribs with the toe of his boot. Still, the unknown individual doesn’t so much as groan in response even when Scar pulls back and gives him a solid kick that makes you wince, and it worries you more than just a little bit. You were going to have to do something to distract Scar and lead him away before he followed through on his unspoken promise of finishing the job he’d started. It was the right thing to do even if that man had been stalking you right along with everyone else. 

“If you want my opinion that was probably a smart move on their part. And with them out of the picture that just left this pathetic little rat to deal with.” His laughter rising in pitch, Scar delivers another mean kick to the man, half rolling him over onto his side from the force. “I’m sure that’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it? How many people have been keeping tabs on you?” 

A distant note of surprise curls through you. So he knew then. There was no reason to hide it or beat around the bush in that case. “Do you know who the others are? Can you tell me which faction they belong to, or at least this one?” You ask, indicating the man with a nudge of your chin. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t get ahead of yourself, now. I’m more than happy to continue our game, especially when you’re like this …” Sedately turning towards you again, dull gray and red eyes pointedly drop to indicate the swell of your breasts. He must like what he sees because his smirk takes on a sharper, more predatory edge. 

And you almost catch yourself scoffing, very tempted to remind him that he’d just implied he wasn’t a pervert only a moment ago, but then his gaze travels back up to your face. The way he looks at you, pupils blown wide and soft with an emotion you can’t quite place, as if you’d personally hung the moon and the stars in the night sky, kills the thought before you even get the chance to give it voice.

“But an equal exchange is not so one-sided.” He continues, his tone warm with something not unlike reverence now. “You’re smart, Rover. I’m sure you understand that any healthy relationship involves some amount of give and take, don’t you? That’s what I want from you more than anything else. Just a fair chance.”

You hesitate at the sly purr that creeps into his voice at the tail end and the strange feeling it ignites low in your gut. He certainly knew how to appeal to your emotions — or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it the natural inclinations of your flesh and blood body. There was no denying a strange sort of chemistry brewing just beneath the surface no matter how much you wanted to reject it but you had to keep your head on straight. Scar was much too dangerous for you to throw caution aside, particularly when you were naked and unarmed. You didn’t stand a chance in hell against him like this. 

“That’s nice of you to say but I’m not sure if I have anything I can give you. What do you want in return that you would consider a fair trade?” 

“You.” He insists, putting so much emphasis on just that one single word you almost believe him. “We want you. Always you, my dear. Nothing more and nothing less. You’re the goal, the prize. The much sought after trophy everyone wants for themselves. They need you for their own objectives, their own ends, but I merely want to stand at your side, together. I can give you anything you could ever want or dream of having if you’d just pick me.” 

Frowning, you give your head a slow, solemn shake. “But how can I possibly trust you? There’s so much I just don’t know yet and … what Yangyang said didn’t exactly paint a flattering picture. You have to understand how things look from my perspective.” 

As if someone had flipped a light switch, he sobers at the drop of a coin. Where only just a short moment ago he’d been looking at you with fervent, almost fanatical intention he now draws in on himself and effectively shutters his expression from your watchful gaze. It would have been incredibly disconcerting had you not already seen the contrast of his hot and cold temperament first hand, how wildly he swung from one extreme to the next and without any discernible rhyme or reason dictating it along the way. 

You half expect him to launch himself at you in retaliation, to force you into submission and take you by force, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that there was a whole lot you could’ve done about it when you were so woefully defenseless. But then, to your mounting surprise, he merely draws a slow inhale that makes his chest visibly expand before speaking, perfectly calm and reasonable again. 

“I suppose that’s fair. Disappointing, yes, but it doesn’t come as a great surprise. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get to you in time before they did and you’ve had all those annoying little birds chittering away in your ear ever since you woke up. It’s no wonder you hesitate to trust me. I don’t blame you for that, little lamb, but at least give me a chance to show you just how sincere I really am before you start making any final decisions. That’s all I ask.”

Your stomach plummets into the ground as you look up at him in real surprise, blinking owlishly. Give him a chance? When that extended olive branch might cost you not only your life but your very soul? Surely he was joking. “I'm not sure I understand … didn’t I give you plenty of time to plead your case back in Qichi village?”

“This is different. It’s just the two of us here now, which means no more pesky interruptions from your nosy little friends or mine. We can talk for hours if we want, or even until the sun rises.” 

Thoughts momentarily drifting to that mysterious Fractsidus woman who’d shown up to retrieve him, you wonder if Scar is really as alone as he was making himself out to be. You’re not so sure you trust it. But when you don't respond he just silently holds out his hand to you in offering, a simple enough gesture that stops your quizzical pondering in its tracks. 

You don’t jump to take his outstretched fingers though, and for good reason. Instead you warily eye the sharp red claws that form on the fingertips of his gloved suit, the considerable size of his palm and the undeniable power he clearly wields, lurking just below the surface. You knew too well that readily falling right into the clutches of the enemy like this might be the very last mistake you ever make, but … this would work as a sufficient distraction to get him away from that unconscious man, wouldn’t it? And you were tempted, oh so very tempted for much less charitable reasons too. There was a sick sort of curiosity simmering like a pot left to stew on low heat in the back of your mind. 

But could you really justify this? Could you rationalize it and make peace with it later on when you were lying in bed at night, awake with only your own thoughts for company? 

Seeing your obvious uncertainty, Scar’s expression pinches slightly at the corners. “Let’s just forget about everything else for a moment. All the different factions and sides, the players and the pawns. Your role in all of this and mine as well. I’m offering myself to you with transparency and honesty, Rover. Give me a chance. I’ll say please, if that’s what you want.” 

“And how am I supposed to know that this isn’t a trap? Surely you must realize I’m at a sore disadvantage right now.” You grumble, indicating your naked breasts with a pointed shrug of your shoulders and Scar outright laughs, the low rumble in his voice belying the excited surge of fast pumping adrenaline he must feel. 

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? You won’t know until you find out for yourself. Guess you’ll just have to trust me.” He gives his fingers a coaxing wriggle, inviting you to accept his offer. “Come on. You look cold sitting there all alone. I can help you warm up and I’ll even promise to be on my best behavior if you just try to meet me in the middle. I don’t think you’ll regret it ~” 

“Your best behavior, huh?” You drolly echo him, hardly believing that such a thing even existed. He seemed the type who was nothing but trouble through and through. You’d be far more surprised if it turned out that he actually did have the capacity to be agreeable than the reverse but, well. You were starting to prune. It was definitely time to get out of the water and you’d much rather do so peacefully than have to fight him tooth and nail while you were cold and stripped bare. 

Somehow you didn’t envision that turning out very well. 

Sighing, you finally relent and shift forward so you can push up onto your knees. It’s hard to fight the feeling that you were making some horrible, monumentally egregious mistake as you reach up to take his offered hand which securely closes around yours like an iron shackle. He could seriously hurt you or even kill you easily enough now that he had you in his hold like this. You knew that perfectly well and you brace yourself for the pin to drop but then, to your growing astonishment, Scar merely tugs you to your feet with a truly unexpected amount of gentleness. 

Honestly you hadn’t thought him capable of such care, but he shows you none of that now familiar manic glee or the thirst for destruction you’d glimpsed once before as he pulls you towards him. His eyes remain locked on your face, unreadable beyond the soft note of satisfaction that creeps into them when he takes half a step back so he can guide you up onto the bank with him. The ground is hard and chilly under your feet yet you hardly notice it at all, so highly tuned in to the man standing before you that you don’t even give it more than a passing thought. 

The sun has almost completely set, you abruptly realize as the two of you come to a halt, the last few lingering remnants of day quickly fading under the encroaching gloom of twilight. Shadows play at his face, further highlighting the intensity behind his eyes when he looks at you, plain and unguarded. There’s something else shining in them too. A silent, wordless plea or perhaps an oath. 

It was almost as foolish as your plan to lure your stalkers out of hiding using your own body as bait, and yet you felt strangely inclined to trust him at his word. Scar would behave himself as long as you gave him the chance he seemed to want so bad, of that you were sure. He’d even said as much to you before, back in that village, hadn’t he? That he wasn’t going to make you hate him just yet. And you didn’t. Not really. You were understandably cautious of him and his motives, and the power you suspected he’d only shown you a very small fraction of, but he hadn’t given you a real reason to consider him your enemy. Perhaps he would in due time, when this tentative and shaky truce between you and him reached its breaking point, but for now at least it couldn’t hurt to hear him out again. 

Could it? 

“There.” He says, pinning you with a pleased little smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Thank you.” 

“There’s no need for formalities between us, Rover. Don’t thank me. Just accept me and what I can give you.”

Narrowing your eyes at him in warning, you make a halfhearted attempt to tug your hand from his and it really doesn’t come as much of a shock when he refuses to let you go. But in the spirit of playing nice you quickly give up without a fuss, simply resigning yourself to the fact that he was going to continue to hold on until he was good and ready to release you. If such a time ever even came. “You know I can’t blindly do that. You haven’t given me a good reason to trust you yet.” 

“Ooh, are you getting impatient with me, darling? I told you I’d show you my sincerity, didn’t I?” Taking another backwards step, he slowly pulls you further away from the river and you complacently allow it because … you’re actually not sure why you do it.

For all intents and purposes you should have been wrenching away from him and the suggestion of heat you can feel even through his glove. You should have been lurching for your sword, or at least your clothes, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you shuffle after him and tip your head back to look up at his face, searching for any signs that might indicate his next move. Scar was far too unpredictable to even guess at his thoughts, his inner workings and motives a complete and total mystery to you even now, but his actions were a slightly different story. 

Although still sporadic and off kilter, you can see the intent in his body language before he does it and you instinctively brace when his opposite hand reaches out for you. All he does is touch you with it though, the gesture somehow halting and possessive at the same time when he carefully palms over your bare hip. Like he was testing the waters, you realize, but he was a bit too eager to truly be cautious about it. 

Looking really quite pleased when you neither slap at him or squawk in indignation, he lets his hand settle into place with a vague squeeze to the plushy curve. That implausible heat coming off of him immediately settles into the skin and starts to warm you from the inside out, just like he’d promised he would, and you suck in a shuddering breath of relief. It felt good after the chill of the river. 

“You’re so soft, Rover. I like that.” 

Perfectly casual about it, you drop your attention down the front of him to regard the black zipper on his suit. “And you look rather hard where I’m standing.” You murmur, earning another low chuckle from him. 

“Mmm, is that so? And do you like it?” 

Steeling your courage and resolve, you bring your gaze back up to his. “Scar, this is … I’m willing to talk to you but I think this might be a step too far. I’m sorry.”

He cocks his head, puppy-like both in the gesture itself and in the way he seems to be hanging off your every word with that sappy expression plastered across his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think you were the instigator here and he the hapless victim being coerced. It was so ass backwards it bordered on laughable. 

“Aw, come on. What do you mean? I’m not going to hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about. Should I prostrate myself at your feet and swear a solemn oath to make you believe me?” 

“It’s not exactly that, just … we’re supposed to be enemies, aren’t we? Or something like that, at least.” 

A quick laugh huffs out of him to accompany the slow shake of his head. “That’s certainly what they want you to think, isn’t it?” 

You lift your brows in question but he decides to forgo a proper answer and silently drags his palm up along your side to cradle around your waist instead. Static electricity rushes along the path his hand took and you almost find yourself swaying unsteadily on your feet at the sheer magnitude of that electrical current. You were starting to understand now. What made this truly dangerous wasn’t just the opposing sides and their ideals, the life or death battle you might someday have to face off against him in or even anything as grand as the fate of this world. It was so harrowing because the chemistry was very much there and it was real. He knew it too. Had likely known it long before he’d actually appeared before you in that abandoned village. The only real question was; would it be enough to truly sway you? 

You’re not quite ready to give up the ghost just yet, you decide, and yet you don’t fight it when he finally releases your hand so he can slide his other palm around your middle as well. He simply holds you in place like that for a drawn out moment, peering down at you with an expression just short of dopey, like he was committing every inch of you to memory. The complexion of your skin, the size and shape of your breasts and the tightly coiled peaks standing up on them. Any blemishes, beauty marks or scars are laid bare before him and yet nothing seems to give him pause or dissuade his interest. And you’re suddenly acutely aware that that’s exactly what it is too. Real, genuine, vibrating interest in you. It was — very close to being overwhelming, having someone look at you like that. 

But then he leans in, bending at the waist so he can close the gap between your height and his, and you’re so sure he’s about to kiss you that you turn your face away to deter him. But all he does is chuckle at the reaction, smoothly tucking his nose in behind your ear where he proceeds to take a deep, savory inhale to taste the scent of you without missing a beat. A sensitive shudder works up your spine and you almost whimper at the sudden, potent flood of molten heat that sweeps through you in a rush. This was really bad. 

“Just relax, Rover.” He drawls, warm breath tickling along the side of your neck. “I won’t force myself on you like some kind of animal or try to make you take responsibility for what you do to me. Ahh, and you do drive me crazy, make no mistake about that. But that’s not your burden to bear, is it? I know it’s not your fault.” 

“Of course it’s not. I never intentionally tried to lead you on so there’s nothing to take responsibility for.” You just barely manage to whisper, struggling to stay grounded in reality when every fiber of your being wanted to give itself over to the temptation he offered. It was crazy and stupid, and so incredibly ill-advised, but with each passing second you were finding it harder and harder to keep up the pretense. More than anything you wanted to take a bite of the forbidden fruit he was holding out to you in humble supplication, a placating offering as much as it was a consecrated sacrifice. 

No, you didn’t just want it. You needed to devour it, every last morsel and crumb until there was nothing left except the smoldering, charred ash of that which had once been. It felt like you were going mad and having him in such terribly close proximity like this was not helping your resolve in the slightest. 

“Hah. Well said, my dear. You certainly are sharp.” Straightening up so he can look you in the face, Scar lets his mouth stretch into a victorious, slashing grin when he sees the way you shudder at the loss of his body heat, mistaking it for something it’s not. “Ooh, but don’t be nervous. I’m a man of my word, you know. You’re safe with me. Much safer than you are with those useless Jinzhou dogs. You can trust me, Rover. I only want to show you exactly where my loyalties lie, that’s all. You’ll let me do that much, won’t you?” 

You send him a slow look of confusion. “I’m not sure what you’re even talking about. What do you mean by that?” You really don’t understand half of the things that come out of his mouth. He was loyal to Fractsidus, wasn’t he? 

But Scar once again chooses not to provide you with a proper explanation, which you probably should have been accustomed to by now. You were beginning to suspect that this was all too commonplace for him and you almost struggle against it when he uses his hold on your waist to gently nudge you into turning around. The way he tauntingly coos at you under his breath is shamefully persuasive though and you soon give in, spinning in place like an obedient if not begrudging little thing until you’ve fully turned your back on him. 

It was an exceedingly foolish decision to make. He could have easily grabbed you around the throat and squeezed until your airway was crushed, or even snap your neck with very little effort to show for it. You should have known better. You did know better. 

Yet neither of those things happen. 

Instead of ending you right then and there, you feel Scar shift behind you and bend close. The ends of his hair brush against the nape of your neck just so, seconds before he places a brief, lingering kiss to the jut of your shoulder. You startle at the contact but he doesn’t seem to pay it any mind other than a short lived, savory laugh at your expense. 

Following the gently sloping line of your shoulder, he gradually makes his way up to the base of your neck one lingering peck at a time, then higher still to ghost over your quickened pulse. Through it all his hands remain stationary around your waist, neither demanding reciprocatory attention from you nor roaming about to explore your body any further than what he could touch with his mouth. He just holds you in place, cradling you there against him. It’s not exactly what you would have expected from someone like him, someone who seemed perfectly content to just take whatever he wanted without remorse; and you have to suck in a slow, faltering breath to steady yourself when he works his way back, starting to kiss a hot path down the curve of your spine now.

Mouthing at the center line of your body, Scar hunches even closer so he can continue down between your shoulderblades, charting a steady and unhurried path towards your waist. You aren’t entirely sure what to make of it but quickly decide that you don’t hate what he’s doing enough to put a stop to it. His hands did feel good on your skin, and so did his coarse lips. Perhaps you were too easily swayed but that was a problem for you to sort out and unpack another day. You certainly didn’t have the time or the brain power for it right now. 

Especially not when, without so much as a word of warning or an explanation to go with it, you feel him drop to his knees behind you. It’s unmistakable, from the distinct sound of his long coat hitting the ground to the way his denser frame goes from looming right behind you one moment to being about level with your hips the next. The suddenness of it makes your heart lodge itself in your throat, and you let out a small squeak of surprise as you half twist around to look back at him. 

“H - hey, what do you think you’re doing?” 

As expected, you find him peering up at you from where he’s knelt in the dirt with those big, soft eyes he only ever seems to make at you. It was as absurd as it was disconcerting, and you absolutely hate the way it causes your resolve to weaken even more. He looked good down there, you’re more than just a bit horrified to realize. Almost too good for you to keep pretending like you didn’t want to continue on in this manner with him. 

“Hush, Rover. You want proof, don’t you? You want a reason to trust me? Then let me give you one.” 

“I don’t really see how - -“

You cut yourself off with a sharp, harried gasp when his hands abruptly start to move. First they slide forward to tauntingly rake down your front, leaving the faintest sting of scratch marks across your stomach before dragging back around to possessively paw over the curve of your hips. He pauses there to give you a tight squeeze, nails sinking into flesh but not quite breaking the skin yet. The threat of it is there though. That silent promise that he could easily tear into you if he really wanted to sobers you slightly, but he doesn’t do it. Instead he just eases up his hold on you enough to palm over your thighs, down and then straight up the backs of them until his splayed fingers finally press into the underside of your ass. 

Heat immediately rushes into your face when understanding dawns but he doesn’t grant you enough time to protest before he’s cupping both cheeks to knead and lift the weight of them. You shuffle your feet, embarrassed, but even trying to angle yourself away from him does very little to deter Scar from his goal. He just pinches your backside in a tighter hold, letting out an appreciative, rumbling sigh as he slowly spreads your ass open to expose you to his voracious and hungry gaze. 

You suddenly feel extremely lightheaded. And not only because of the first waft of cool air against your most private of areas but also the innate knowledge that he was looking at you completely uninterrupted like this. The pudgy seam of your cunt, the tight pucker of your asshole. All was laid bare when Scar was holding you spread open like that and the fact his face was only mere inches away didn’t help the self conscious siren that goes off in the back of your mind either. Your one and only consolation in such a deeply humiliating situation is that you were fresh out of a bath and as clean as one could possibly get when they were washing up in a river, which you certainly hoped was clean enough given the circumstances. 

“You … I thought you said you weren’t a pervert earlier?” 

He offers up a soft laugh at that, his warm breath once again fanning across your skin, except this time it suggestively tickles over  … 

“Oh, but I didn’t say that now did I, darling? I merely told you that I wouldn’t tolerate any other perverts getting off because of you. I never claimed to be a virtuous saint myself.” 

The suggestion of that alone is downright comedic but you can’t quite find the wherewithal to laugh about it right now. Not when you were focusing the vast majority of your energy on simply staying upright and balanced while also doing your best to keep your legs pressed together at the same time, hoping to preserve at least some of your remaining dignity. 

But it was an awkward and uncertain stance to take, and it leaves you swaying almost dizzily on your feet even as you reach back to blindly swat at his head. You’re well aware that you really ought to have been shoving him away, kicking and swinging at him in a flurry of righteous indignation. Unfortunately your heart just really wasn’t in it though. Your lack of conviction didn’t make it any less embarrassing, being spread and ogled like that, but there wasn't much you could do about it when your body starts to respond in kind. You were getting excited. Damn him. 

In the end all you succeed in doing is fruitlessly smacking at the side of his head, yet he still lets out a rumbling sound of encouragement in response. Like he wouldn’t have minded it much if you’d put more intent behind it, and you just quietly seethe through your teeth in response. 

Fumbling to get your hand up again, you mercilessly shove it into his hair and close a tight first at the root so you can yank his head back, putting at least some space between you and him. Twisting around at the same time, you pin Scar with an incredulous, flustered look. “Are you serious? This is the big ace up your sleeve? There’s no way you actually think that’s going to work!”  

Noising a brief, decidedly unbothered sound of agreement, Scar makes a show of licking his lips before tipping his neck back to nudge into your fist. That tawdry motion just further exposes the jagged Tacet Mark carved across his throat and draws your attention to it even when you try to ignore its exigent pull. The picture he paints kneeling there on the ground is lurid and provocative, off putting and yet tantalizing in the worst possible way. Inviting, almost. 

And it works. God help you but it achieves exactly what it was likely meant to, and a warm pulse starts up between your legs with a slow, anticipatory clench. He was sick, no doubt about that, but so were you for humoring him like this in as much as you have. 

“You’re right. I don’t actually think this is going to sway you over to our side or even make for a very convincing argument when all is said and done. I might be crazy but I’m not stupid.”

At your bewildered look, he chuckles a low sound under his breath. 

“I already said it once before, didn’t I? You’re smart, Rover, and I’m well aware just how smart you really are. If something as simple as this was actually enough to convince you then I wouldn’t have wasted so much time trying to talk to you up to this point, now would I?” He goes on, imploringly tipping his head to the side and half dragging your hand along with it where you were still gripping onto his hair. “Just believe me for once, won’t you? I really meant it when I said to put everything else aside for the moment. This is just about you and me right now. Forget about sides and factions, and all their troublesome rules. None of that matters here as far as I’m concerned. I only wish to show you that I’ve been nothing if not sincere this whole time and perhaps even earn myself a sliver of your trust while I’m at it.”

You swallow hard when his fingers idly dig into you with a palpitating squeeze, sharp nails threatening to cut and render flesh. He doesn’t do it though. Whether that’s because he knew doing so wouldn’t earn him any favors in your book or because he simply wouldn’t do it to you, it’s impossible to say. But the fact he refrains, regardless of the reason why, goes a long way in assuring you that this wasn’t going to end in a bloody showdown. And if it would get him to stop holding your cheeks open any quicker then you were willing to go along with it. 

“Fine. I’m listening.” 

A gravelly, almost animalistic sound rises from him at your acquiescence and you watch in something not unlike fascination as his expression shifts, discarding that big eyed puppy dog look in favor of something much more rapacious. Eyes sharpening with an edge of that familiar manic glee, Scar roves his attention back down to regard the shameful spread of your body. His hands adjust, loosening and then tightening in a better grip around the meat of your ass so he can give it an appreciative, taunting jostle. You whimper softly in the back of your throat and tip forward on your toes, trying to stamp down the urge to start squirming. It was very hard not to do when he was staring at you like that, with only a short few inches separating his nose from your vulnerable groin. 

But you don’t pull away or move to stop it as he leans in to deliver a soft, fleeting peck to the meat of one cheek before turning his head so he can do the same to the other. There’s a note of unmistakable reverence in the way he kisses your body, like you were communion and holy relic all wrapped into one. It might have been flattering, it may have even gone to your head and inflated your ego under better circumstances. But better circumstances would not have found you stark naked out in the wilderness with a man who was supposed to be your enemy prostrating himself at your feet like an altar. You’re deeply frazzled by the whole thing, not having expected this particular outcome when you’d decided to take his extended hand. 

That flustered, jittery nerves feeling only grows stronger when he pecks his way up to the starting seam of your backside, kissing at the top and then slowly working his way down that naturally formed line. You realize what he’s aiming for perhaps a little too late and you suck in a sharp breath of surprise as his lips press into the tight pucker of your hole. Startled goosebumps erupt all over your skin to accompany the soft mewl you involuntarily let out, rocking unsteadily on your feet, but he seems not to pay it any mind. 

Just lingering there with his mouth pressed right up against your asshole, Scar issues a quiet groan that seems to reverberate and echo through you a million times over. Your own excitement quickly starts to climb, the sensation of eager slick forming at the proper entrance of your cunt prompting you to cautiously inch your legs apart in hopes of inviting him to direct his attention lower. 

But of course that doesn’t work. Scar was the farthest thing from cooperative even when he was putting on a show and insisting he was a good boy — would be a good boy for you if only you’d give him the chance. It was laughable in retrospect and you probably should have seen this coming considering who you were dealing with. Yet you just hiss like a spitting, incensed cat, neither trying to swat him away or extricate yourself from his hold when he purses his lips, kissing at your hole before opening his mouth wide and then sealing it over your entrance. 

The first meaty wet swipe of his tongue flicking out over the wrinkled pucker in a broad swipe makes you jolt as if he’d electrocuted you. Trembling from your head straight down to your toes, your hand comes up to press over your mouth and silence the truly embarrassing sounds that were trying to crawl their way out of your constricting throat. To be looked at there was already bad enough, but being licked was somehow even worse. And the fact he does it without shame or even any remorse only seems to highlight your own pinpoint self-conscious reaction. 

You shift to the side, hoping to dissuade him, and he just follows you. Presses his face more firmly into the space between your cheeks and delivers a wet, smacking slurp to your ass before pulling back a fraction of an inch. Letting out a heady sound that falters at the tail end and peters out into a hungry moan of pleasure, Scar quickly shoves his mouth up against you again and he’s right back at it. His surprisingly supple lips eagerly locate that tight pucker so he can kiss it deeply, encouraging your body to respond. 

And it does, with truly startling results. Not only was your cunt starting to weep in sympathetic pleasure, becoming soft and sticky for him, but your hole also begins to puff up under the periodic suction he applies to it. The feeling is a strange one, not exactly pleasurable in the strictest sense, but there’s no denying the effect it has on you when the physical proof was so obvious and stark. 

Choking on a half strangled noise, you twist your upper body around and reach back to snag another fistful of his hair. You were torn between either shoving him away or pulling him further in against you, but you finally settle on gritting out a soft, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing that …” 

He pulls back at the sound of your voice, not the halfhearted tug you give to his hair, and he laughs a thick, deeply masculine sound into the scant space. “And yet you’re happily letting me do it, Rover! Funny how that works, isn’t it?” 

A fresh flood of heat spills into your face but you couldn’t exactly deny it or say it wasn’t the truth. You were allowing this to happen. It didn’t really matter if it was vaguely mortifying, having someone lick you in such a personal and private spot, because you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Even you were a bit surprised at your own lack of protest but fine, if that was how he wanted to play this game then so be it. 

Decisively, you shove your discomfort and uncertainty aside. Quickly readjust your hold on Scar’s haphazard shock of hair, get a better grip on it and then pull him back up against you again. That he allows it, simply rocking forward on his knees to let you guide him straight back into the cradle of your backside surprises you slightly, but in reality it probably shouldn’t have. He was quite clearly a shameless, unapologetic heathen of the worst kind, and if this went on for much longer there seemed a high probability that he was going to start rubbing off on you too. He already was, in a way. 

Because you find yourself arching your back and jutting your ass up a bit higher, pushing into him. It’s supposed to be petty and maybe just a little bit mean but he only laughs out another half smothered sound before tipping his head so he can seal his lips over your asshole more securely than before. His tongue mercilessly lashes out to lap across the dip in the center and coat you in an obscene amount of drool that slowly drips down and off his chin. But if he’s at all concerned about how messily he’s eating you out he certainly doesn’t show it. Doesn’t even seem to acknowledge it as far as you can tell, and you soon find that you’re choking on a sharp inhale when he directs his tongue to the middle of your slackening pucker. 

Poking, prodding and teasing at it, he takes a moment to just taunt you with the suggestion before at last pressing the fleshy wet tip into you. Your body rejects it at first, clenching tight to keep him out, but the loosened state of the muscle quickly gives way when he worms his tongue right into the vulnerable center to just dip inside the rim. The sensation rips an undignified squeal out of you, every single hair follicle suddenly standing on end as you rock forward with such a powerful jolt that you almost tip yourself off balance. 

Scar is quick, however, and he unlatches his clawed fingers from the death grip he’s had on your cheeks in favor of reaching up to anchor around your waist instead. You’re not entirely sure if his intention had been to steady you or to stop you from escaping, but you still breathe out a terse sigh of relief anyway. 

His hold on you quickly proves more of a curse than a blessing though, and that relief promptly morphs into mute horror when he uses your love handles to yank you back against him. You almost stumble and fall, blindly reaching down to latch onto his blocky wrists, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He just keeps tugging on your hips until he’s got you effectively straddling his face, all but sitting on him now. That just leaves you desperately trying to find some semblance of balance in such an awkward, bow legged position and you almost don’t succeed. 

“Hold on! Y - you don’t need to do that, I’m not going anywhere!” 

His response is completely muffled to the point of being unintelligible, effectively lost under the weight of your ass (forcibly) settling on top of his mouth. Your face feels hot enough to catch fire as you unsteadily glance down at where his hands are squeezing deep gouges into the meat around your middle and your wide splayed legs. Your toes just barely manage to touch the ground and find some semblance of stability like this, bare feet bracketing his pelvis and effectively drawing your attention to the demanding tent behind his front zipper. The sight of it makes your eyes go big and round, and very nearly stops you in your tracks. If you’d thought he looked hard before, he was downright galvanized now. You almost couldn’t believe it. 

Scar was really enjoying this that much? 

He shifts underneath you then, ripping you from your gobsmacked thoughts when he rolls his tongue up against your hole and begins to prod at its center again. Seething, you give a weak little jerk in an attempt to dislodge yourself from his grasp but it’s no use. He’s horribly sturdy under you, even with the majority of your weight balancing on his nose, and you quickly realize that you have no chance of getting yourself free at this point. Damn him. 

“Seriously,” You groan, impatiently sucking on your teeth. “If you’re so determined to do this then … at least lick more towards the front while you’re down there.” 

His responding chuckle jostles you slightly but you don’t find anything about this particularly funny. Not when you were effectively trapped in a balancing act and just the briefest loss of focus seemed like it would send you sprawling out on the ground, and probably take him right along with you. Scar may have been unexpectedly strong given his lithe, largely compact frame but he was hardly in any position to catch you when he himself was bent back at an angle meant to accommodate your height. He wasn’t that much bigger than you, in truth. It was in part what had made fighting him before not seem like such an insurmountable feat when you’d already fought monsters that were at least double his size many times before. 

But he doesn’t seem like he’s only a little bit taller than you and only a little bit wider when he somewhat roughly manhandles you further back until you can feel his coarse lips brushing just over the seam of your cunt. You outright gasp at the sensation of sticky slick smearing against his chin and his mouth, yet it doesn’t seem to bother him any more than the spit had. And now that he’s found a pocket of empty space between your thighs, he laughs. Low and seedy, thickened with something dark that you dare not name, the sound of it sending a reverb of excited tremors racing through your system. 

“Ooooh, little lamb,” He chortles, seemingly torn between moaning in pleasure or cackling in delight. “All you had to do was ask! I told you, didn’t I? I’m doing this for you. Everything has always been for you! If you want this sweet little pussy of yours ate then that is exactly what you’ll get!” 

The intensity in his voice, the strength of conviction in that declaration, makes something uneasy curl inside of you. You’d almost forgotten he was crazy. A maniac and a twisted sadist, according to Yangyang, and of which you had no doubt. Your guard had been lowered far too much, you quickly decide — but when you try to dismount from him, in earnest this time, Scar merely tightens his hold around your waist. It’s easy enough for him to keep you in place when you couldn’t quite find enough traction to kick off from the ground, and all you can do is let out a low, keening mewl as he tugs you down to close that hair's breadth gap between his mouth and your cunt. 

All at once his lips are suddenly on you, kissing and nipping at sensitive skin while his tongue intermittently lashes out to taste you. He’s more like a starved beast than a man in that moment as he laps up slick and eager juices with a hungry voracity, pressing so deeply into you that you’re not quite certain how he isn't suffocating himself like this. You’re hardly in any position to worry about that right now though, your heart hammering out a wild rhythm against your ribcage as you precariously teeter there and viciously dig your nails into his forearms in a desperate bid to keep yourself upright. You aren’t sure what kind of material his suit is made out of but all it does is softly creak under the force of your grip and you never break the skin below no matter how hard you try.

But Scar doesn’t even seem to feel it at all, much too preoccupied with working his mouth further up your cunt so he can locate the delicate pleasure button nestled within. And his tongue is like a maddened serpent, aggressively spearing through soft, satiny creases and folds until he at last knocks against the spot that makes you involuntarily jolt. You freeze on top of him, startled at the intense sensation that zaps through you all at once, and he huffs out a victorious breath against your pussy. 

Tongue curling out and up, he presses it flat over the apex of your slit and almost leisurely undulates the wet muscle to massage at that hypersensitive spot. Your breath snags, making you sway in a dizzy, lightheaded swoon. It nearly catches you off guard how good it actually feels. All warm and sticky, soft and yet the pressure is applied firmly enough to make your thighs quake around his head. The building pressure in your loins abruptly doubles and then triples, eagerly gushing yet more arousal to coat his face. It wasn’t just pleasurable, it was downright exquisite. 

“Ohh! That’s … oooh, Scar! Right there!”

He hums a faint sound of acknowledgment, the resulting pulse running through your cunt to make the nerve endings tingle. You don’t have to see his expression to know he’s quite pleased to hear you moaning his name like that. In fact you’re certain he’s very smug about it, the bastard. He probably thinks he’s won, that his gambit had actually worked and you would be persuaded by his poor excuse for charm. If you’d had the oxygen for it, you would have laughed. 

Unfortunately he’s a little too good at eating you out and the ministrations of his tongue effectively rob you of the ability to breathe. It’s hard just to think.  All you can do is softly wheeze, struggling to keep your weight centered in the middle, but that too has its own drawbacks as well. 

Perched over his mouth like this there’s very little wriggle room for you to lift up and give yourself any reprieve from what he’s doing. Gravity just forces you down and the need for stability keeps you still, which leaves your pussy resting flush with his tongue. There was no escaping it even if you’d wanted to, and your hips give a tiny, restless nudge to grind against him when the internal pressure rapidly swells. 

Luckily he takes that as his cue to stop fooling around and he sets in to attack your clit in earnest now. His tongue curls back to zero in on it, swirling the fleshy nub with tight, narrow circles to knock it from all sides before flattening the wet muscle. The way he proceeds to grind into that receptive bundle of nerves sends intense, shuddering shockwaves throughout your body and you awkwardly arch to jut your tits up into the air. Scar’s hold on you doesn’t so much as falter no matter how hard you shake though, which is a relief as much as it is a horrifying thought in the back of your cotton stuffed mind. You were more certain than ever now that he’d taken it easy on you back when you’d fought in his Elysium dimension. 

It was obvious that he hadn’t really wanted to hurt you back there when he so clearly could have but then … why? Why did he want you so much that he was even willing to go this far? 

“Nnghhn, please Scar … I don’t know how much longer I can stay like this! Just — put me down!”  

He issues a faint growl in response, one that you think is meant to tell you to forget about it. But then, to your reeling surprise, his hands carefully push you forward a step so that you can slide off his face and settle more squarely on your feet. A trembling sigh of relief shudders out of you even as his palms drag back over your hips to squeeze the meat of your backside and spread you open again. Whimpering at the rush of cool air that comes in to waft over your cunt and emphasize just how much of a sticky mess he’s made of you, you gratefully sink down to kneel on the ground and settle between his spread knees. 

The muscles in your thighs are very grateful for the break and it doesn’t come as much of a shock when he simply follows after you, huffing a gruff sound as his hands descend upon your ass. His vibrating, almost jittery excitement is nearly palpable, almost perfectly mirroring yours, and you don’t protest when he roughly pushes you forward to elevate your lower half, angling your cunt right up at him. 

“Fuck, just look at that pretty pussy. You’re perfect, Rover. I want to lay the whole world at your feet, entire kingdoms and dynasties reduced to ash, but even that wouldn’t be enough. You deserve to have it all. Everything you could ever want, anything at all, and only I can give it to you. I’m the one you should choose!” 

“What I really want right now is for you to shut up.” You murmur, rocking back into him with a pointed nudge. “Be quiet and finish what you started, Scar.” 

“Oooho, and it would be my pleasure.” He snickers, the undeniable amusement in his voice commingling with something much darker, more primal. It sounds like the husk of a death rattle, almost, but you don’t get the chance to linger on that thought. 

He’s bending close again to put his mouth on the fleshy seam of your body but this time you don’t have gravity working against you, forcing you to stay still and complacent. Moaning softly, you arch your back to better present your cunt to him and he takes a quick, appreciative swipe along your slit in response. Then he’s tonguing you open, working messy folds and creases apart so he can slip inside pudgy lips and find that thrumming nerve cluster again. You outright choke when he knocks it, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as stars erupt across your vision. 

Your fingers dig into the ground underneath you as you allow yourself to stiffly relax into the blinding onslaught of sensation that comes with him eating you out from the back. He’s just as enthusiastic and borderline aggressive about it as he’d been when you were all but sitting on his face. You were starting to realize now that this was just his default setting and he didn’t seem to know anything else or how to tone it down. It was something you’d likely have to work with him on, if you decided to humor this absurdity beyond just this one unexpected encounter. 

And given how talented he was with his mouth, you were feeling oddly inclined to keep this shaky truce going. 

“Ohh! God, you’re a messy eater …” 

Laughing a brief sound, Scar seals his lips over your pulsing clit and gives it a surprisingly gentle suck, almost as if in way of an apology. You didn’t believe that for one second though. He didn’t seem the type who was ever sorry about much of anything, but certainly not something like this. 

Seething through your teeth, you stiffly lower your front closer to the ground so you can nudge your cunt further into his mouth, encouraging him to keep going. And he does, but not without giving your clit one last savory, lip smacking slurp. You sensitively jerk at the sound, internally wincing, but he’s already unlatching himself so he can press his tongue into that meaty little nub and trace nonsensical patterns over it, dragging it back and forth, back and forth. Up and then down. 

Your thighs quickly start to shake when the bubbling pressure in your loins rapidly swells with his ministrations, edging so close to the precipice that you can all but taste it in the back of your tongue. Mewling as quietly as you can manage, you numbly reach up with one hand to cup your own breast in a blind fumble. The gesture was perfunctory at best when you were already inching dangerously close to release but your fingers still distractedly tweak over the nipple anyway. It’s stiff and aching, and the idle stimulation just rushes straight to your gushing cunt. You were so close. 

“Ooohhnnghh … keep going. Just like that.”

Shaking his head almost like a wet, mangy stray, Scar nuzzles further into you and settles somehow even deeper into your pussy. He opens his mouth wide, the drag of his rough lips against you making you shudder seconds before he presses his tongue flush to your slit and drags it straight up through your labia. Following the naturally formed crease, he dips right over your entrance and then higher still to take another sticky lap at your asshole. Your breath catches at the sensation, eyes staring wide and unseeing at the spot where your unoccupied hand is splayed out on the ground. He doesn’t pause long enough for you to tell him to knock it off though, and all you can do is let out a startled groan when he rudely shoves his tongue into your ass so he can fuck you with it. 

Your teeth clench tightly at the static shock that rushes through you, absolutely hating the way the muscles in your lower half weakly pulse in response to the intrusion. His hands, so big and warm, possessively groping at your backside prove equally distracting, especially when he pinches and spreads you open again, making it even easier for his tongue to spear past the loosened ring. You’d never felt anything like it before, had never imagined it would feel this good, and you finally let out a hiccuping sob of frustration when the first real warning tremor makes you seize. 

“Scar, please!” 

Groaning a wild, animalistic sound, the Fractisdus Overseer pulls back and slides his squirming tongue from your hole. He pauses just long enough to deliver one more smacking peck to the loosened and puffed up rim before kissing his way back down your cunt, nosing at you as he goes. 

It was hard to reject the idea that he was very much like a dog after all, albeit an aggressive and untamed one; but a dog nonetheless when he was so shameless about the whole thing. Clearly it didn’t matter which part of your body it was or how much of a mess he made in the process. Like some deep seeded, primal urge was spurring him on, he operated with one goal and one goal only in mind, and that seemed to be the simple need to get as close to you as he physically could. Almost like he was scenting you, or perhaps coating himself in your smell. Both seemed equally likely. 

But if that really was his goal then it was certainly working. There was so much accumulated slick and spit coating your pussy that when he presses into you again a soft, wet squelch rings through the air. Your toes instinctively curl as if in preparation, as if you were bracing yourself for something much bigger to nudge at your entrance and push in, but all that slots against you is Scar’s nose while his mouth settles back over your clit. He licks you with broad, steady strokes of the muscle for a moment but quickly switches gears to flicking it back and forth, battering at that fleshy little nub with a single mindedness that almost makes you go cross eyed. The pleasure is so immediate and so intense that you give a violent jerk, hand falling away from your breast to smack against the ground and gouge your nails into the cool earth. It’s suddenly ten times harder to draw a full breath than it was only a moment ago and, hips juddering, you rear back on his face with a wounded, faltering bleat of pleasure. 

And the chord snaps, just like that. It’s so sudden that it catches you unawares and you lurch, letting out a series of half stifled yet frantic gasps as the spasms of release hit you full force. But he keeps you pressed right up against him no matter how much you buck or twist, his hold on your hips downright painful now. Sharp fingertips dig into your skin hard enough to leave marks, hard enough to draw little pinpricks of blood. The distant nick of inhuman claws slowly sinking into flesh serves as a constant reminder of just how dangerous this was for you, a tiny distant voice in the back of your head saying ‘I told you so’, and yet you can’t quite find it in you to care very much about that right now. 

Not when you were soaring on a high so exquisitely satisfying it makes the backs of your eyes sting with sensitive tears. Luridly moaning now, you quake through the rest of your orgasm and savor the blinding starbursts that shoot off inside you in quick, pulsating succession. Your pussy clenches uncontrollably against his face, practically drowning him with arousal, but Scar just keeps lapping at you throughout the height of your pleasure until you finally start to come down from it an extended beat later, piece by excruciating piece. 

It’s only when your breathy groans start to take on a dire, vaguely frazzled edge does he at last pull away with a thick growl of his own. You feel him lean back then, giving you some much needed space, and you gratefully blow out a spent exhale of relief even as he starts to busy himself with using both hands to knead at your upturned ass. If it kept him content for the time being then you were fine with it. You desperately needed a chance to ground and reorient before dealing with him any further. 

Which you would. Very soon, once you got your breathing back under control. 

Honestly you hadn’t expected him to be good at that at all, let alone that good. 

“Oh, Rover,” He sighs out, almost dreamy and punchdrunk, the sound of his rough hewn voice drawing you out of your reverie. “I do hope you enjoyed that half as much as I did but I’d be happy to give you an encore if you’re still not quite satisfied yet. Just say the word and I’ll do whatever it is you want ~”

“Tch. I bet you’d like that.” 

“I would.” Scar readily agrees, giving your ass a slow, anticipatory pinch, and you volley right back with a low scoff in return. 

Gathering yourself together, you carefully push up and twist to glance back at him with what you hope is an unamused look. Somehow you’re not the least bit surprised to find his lips and cheeks damp with a vague sheen you can just make out under the moonlight, bits of hair sticking to his forehead where he’d gotten a little too messy with it. He looked like a wet dream come to life, if you were being honest, but no way in hell were you about to tell him that.

“You sure are confident. Who’s to say I even liked the first round enough to go another with you? Maybe once was enough.” 

“Aww, don’t say that. I know it’s not true, for starters. I have the evidence to prove that all over my face, don’t I?” He lets his mouth curl into a lazy but no less smug smirk, very much looking like a mischievous feline who’s eaten one too many canary’s. “Besides, you were certainly moaning my name in the most deliciously sweet voice only a few minutes ago. You don’t have to be shy with me, little lamb. Enjoying it isn’t a bad thing and it also doesn’t make you any less fierce in my eyes.” 

“What do you want me to say to that? Should I thank you for it?” 

A short lived laugh makes his shoulders rise and then fall. “No, not at all. That’s not what I want to hear right now.” 

“Then what do you expect from me?” 

“I want you to say you’ll be mine.” 

The candid way he says it surprises you a great deal and you quickly shrug off your own satiated afterglow to look at him. Really look at him this time. It was still the same man you’d met in that abandoned village, still the same person who’d forcibly separated you from Yangyang before hand feeding you clues through a dark tale of sacrificial sheep and shepherds. His eyes had lost that sharp, manic tinged edge though and he was now intently watching you with a noticeable fondness reflected in his expression. It softened his whole face and made him look nearly boyish. Unassuming, in a way. 

You’d almost forgotten your earlier revelation, that he seemed truly interested in you and not necessarily what you were. Granted you hadn’t quite figured what that was yet but … 

“Why do you want me so bad, Scar? There must be a reason.” 

He gives his head a slow shake, trying to stifle a fresh peel of laughter. “There are many reasons to want you, Rover. Don’t underestimate or sell yourself short. I’m sure you’re the one we’ve been waiting for. I’ve been certain of it since the moment you woke up here. More importantly though, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re one I’ve been waiting for. Can’t you feel it too?” 

You send him a quizzical frown but it’s obvious he isn’t going to elaborate any further than that. It’s clear in the way he just tips his head to the side, peering over at you with a sense of peace bred from reverence, or something close to it. Almost like … it was almost like being in close proximity with you had a calming effect that helped chase away at least some of the madness for a time. He didn’t look crazy to you in that moment. If anything you almost got the sense that he was so painfully sincere that it bordered on fanatical, as if you could do no wrong in his eyes and there was no low he wouldn’t sink to if you asked it of him. 

Perhaps his demonstration had accomplished what it was meant to then, because you believed him. Against your better judgment and common sense, you were now certain that he at least fully believed what he was saying so you had no choice but to believe it too. He probably didn’t deserve your pity if even only half of the things you’d heard were true and yet … 

Finally letting out a slow breath through your nose, you lift your hand and reach back to gently touch his shoulder. At your careful push, he leans further back, letting his hands fall from your ass to rest in his lap instead. You’re not entirely sure why you do it but, swallowing down your nerves, you go up on your knees so that you can kneel between the spread of his legs and then lean into him. 

Scar blinks at you, clearly surprised, but he doesn’t pull away or protest when you get right up in his face. He just tips his mouth towards you, those mismatched eyes locked on yours with a burning intensity that probably would have stopped a lesser person in their tracks. You’re decidedly lacking in self preservation tonight though because it doesn’t even give you pause, and you simply press your mouth to his in a lingering, featherlight kiss. 

A sudden puff of air escapes him in a rush at the contact, even for as brief as it is, and sends a static jolt through the both of you. Your pussy gives a muted, distant flutter of interest at the soft whimper he noises, sounding so needy and tender that it almost shatters your resolve. But you manage to cling to it somehow, determined only to get him back for the mess he’s made of you and nothing more. It was probably a bad idea to get any more tangled up with him than you already were. 

No, it was definitely a bad idea. Possibly even the worst one you’d ever flirted with. 

But that knowledge doesn’t stop you from following through on this impulsive decision, and you soon disengage from him so you can shuffle further back into the space between his legs. A quick glance over your shoulder shows him just as hard as he’d been the last time you’d looked, the strain of his erection making the black zipper protrude from the rest of his slate-gray bodysuit and rumple the curious fabric in the most fascinating of ways. You could feel more than just a passing interest solidifying in the back of your mind and you were awfully tempted to throw caution aside, to pull on that ridiculous zip and find out exactly what was hidden inside. 

Instead you rear back, lift your ass and then plop it down right on top of that aggressive tent, and he outright chokes as if you’d just sucker punched him. One clawed hand comes up to take bruising hold of your already sore hip, the other braced against the ground to steady himself. A truly unnatural snarl rises in his chest to make him sound like some sort of half crazed beast, but he doesn’t try to shove you off or question what you’re doing. He doesn’t even seem to know what to do with it now that it’s (quite literally) fallen right into his lap; his breath coming a little quicker as he turns his attention downward to take in the sight of you sitting atop his cock with wide, borderline fanatical eyes. 

Stiff and halting, Scar experimentally rolls his pelvis up into you, and the demanding nudge of him between your legs nearly makes your mouth drop open in a heated groan. Right there. He was right where you needed him the most, pressed up tight against your entrance to tease the suggestion of real penetration. You badly wanted it, you’re more than just a bit ashamed to realize. Your pussy felt terribly empty and in need of a good stretching, of which you were certain he not only could provide but would be happy to. The only thing standing between you and that particular end to this foolhardy encounter was the thin layer of his suit but it would have been oh so very easy for you to simply unzip it and claim your prize for yourself. 

You probably would have even given in had the situation been just a little bit different, if the context of danger wasn't an ever present threat under the surface of every encounter with him. But you’re on a self appointed mission and you merely grind your cunt down to drag over his straining erection, gasping softly when he digs right up into your sensitized clit in the process. Gods, this was so very risky. 

“Rover.” 

“Shut up.” You snap, not even bothering to hide your irritation with him, with this whole ordeal as you start to gingerly move. Whether by virtue of his smooth bodysuit or the obscenely wet quality of your cunt, you find yourself easily gliding over that flexing bulge with a sinfully smooth motion that begets an equally easy rhythm. This was much too simple, too comfortable, for someone who was supposed to be your enemy. “You said you would do whatever I wanted, didn’t you? Well, I want you to stop talking. Think you can handle that?” 

Scar lets out a strained, largely distracted laugh, his attention clearly focused on the meaty press of your pussy lips where they drag over the firm outline of him. “My, my, I had no idea needing to get fucked would make you so short tempered! Although I am flattered you want to use me for your own pleasure in this way, I think I should probably remind you that I can do a much better job of … seeing to your needs if you’d let me take it out first.”

Huffing, you ignore him and bring your hands down to brace against his taut thighs, aiming to giving yourself better leverage. It works, you’re quite relieved to find, and the motion of your hips becomes a bit more sure, less tentative. The quiet moan that escapes from him reaches your ears a moment later, the sound rushing straight down to your cunt. This clearly had the potential to backfire in the worst possible way if it went on for too long. You already felt much too tempted to simply reach down and fish his cock out, angle it up at your entrance and sink down on him straight to the base. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction or another reason to be so smug and cocky about everything. 

And given the way his narrow hips quickly start to shudder and tense up underneath you, you’re relatively certain that it won’t. He was either unaccustomed to such physical exchanges, of having a hot, damp pussy dragging right over his cock, so close to skin on skin contact it was borderline torture for both of you, or he was embarrasibgly weak to being on the receiving end of your attention specifically. It may have even been some deadly combination of the two working in tandem with each other. 

But you had to give him credit where it was due and in this at least Scar certainly deserved the reward you were giving him. No matter how much he sensitively twitches or groans, still so vocal even when he wasn’t talking, he does not try to press the matter any further or coerce you into it, nor does he resort to simply forcing you into doing things his way. He just grips you so tight it hurts while he needily thrusts his pelvis up from the ground to meet your stilted motion and maintain the rhythm, which went a very long way in earning him a few points in his favor. Evidently he could be rather obedient when he wanted and you quite liked that side of him, you had to admit. Maybe even liked it a little too much, if the deluge of fresh slick oozing out of you was any indication. 

“Nnghn … if you keep doing that - -“

“I know.” You cut him off, heart rate quickening to match the increasingly eager way you grind against him. “This is payback for what you did to me. Just — finish and get it over with.”

“Hah! Oooh, you really are just full of surprises, aren’t you? Who knew such a precious little lamb could be so petty.” He drawls, trying for confident and unbothered, but there’s no missing the jittery quality of his voice. Like it was taking the vast majority of his self control to keep him in check. 

You feel pretty proud of yourself for that, even when he gives your hip a too tight squeeze before digging his nails in and spreading that cheek from the other so he can look at your asshole while you ride him. Pleasurable shockwaves slam through you at the sharp yet short lived sting from his fingers, your head rapidly turning muddled again when his heavy, masculine groans drop another octave. You knew your hole was still wet with spit after his feast, puffy and darkened from all the attention he’d given it, and that knowledge has you shuddering almost as much as his responding moan does. 

You hadn’t thought you’d get off on something like that quite so much but it seemed Scar was rather adept at teaching you things about yourself. It was ridiculous. 

“Ooughn, damn. You really know how to get revenge, Rover. I must admit I’m … ahhn, I’m impressed.” The threadbare quality of his voice, the way it falters and fades out despite his best effort to keep it steady, makes it glaringly obvious as to what effect this was having on him. His excitement was so palpable you think you could probably reach out and touch it if you really wanted to, if you dared. It was foolish, it was stupid, it was just asking for more trouble from him but — 

That temptation ultimately proves far too great and your pulse stutters an eager beat under the skin as you twist to look back at him. Hungrily, you take in the disarray of his hair and the unexpectedly sincere flush that colors his cheekbones, his pinched brows. He suddenly looked more like a helpless, overly sensitive young man in the prime of his life than the heartless maniac Yangyang had made him out to be. Even the impulsive and sporadic side of him you were now accustomed to dealing with was nowhere in sight. Scar was completely at your mercy like this. He either wouldn’t or couldn’t take the upper hand and flip the script on you even though you were quite certain he could if he really wanted to. 

Was this the loyalty he spoke of? Was it the reason he looked at you, only you, as he did, like you were some sort of ideal come to life or a golden idol he would worship until his dying breath? You weren’t sure if there was much of a difference in his mind and even less sure what you thought about that, but it made you feel decidedly powerful. Inflated with the the knowledge that he seemed to hold you in such high esteem. Like you were the physical embodiment of his deliverance. 

Like you could save him. 

Slowing the motion of your hips to a sedate, leisurely crawl, you allow yourself to just barely nudge your pussy against his rock hard cock in favor of focusing your attention on more interesting matters. You feel emboldened unlike ever before as you reach back to lightly touch fingertips to his neck and lightly tease the skin there. Scar groans in response as if it felt indescribably good to be touched like that before tipping his head back to expose the jagged line across his throat. At the same time his pelvis rolls up into you, a needy whimper slipping out of him, and the significance is clear. Despite his pushiness, he was actually rather submissive when you started reciprocating. How fascinating. 

“Nghnn, Rover -!” 

His desperate gasp spurns you on and you reach higher up to thread your fingers through the back of his hair, closing a tight fist at the root. When you tug at it he quietly seethes but acquiesces without so much as a hint of resistance, obediently straightening up until he’s hunched right up against your back. His big, wet eyes immediately zero in on your mouth and, whining softly, he starts to lean in as if to kiss you while his arms snake around your waist, tightly clutching you in his lap. You put a quick stop to it though, yanking his neck back to halt his forward momentum, and the pull on his scalp draws another whimpering moan out of him. It was clear he was right on the edge of release, close to begging for it by the looks of it, but you had something else in mind for him. 

“Open your mouth.” You intone, tugging on that surprisingly soft hair again to make sure he was paying attention. 

Perfectly docile now, Scar’s lips part and stretch wide to show you a pink tongue and pretty white teeth. He’s watching you intently, almost trancelike in the way he stares into your face from only a scant hair's breadth away. It was clear that he was eagerly awaiting your next command and he issues a breathy, keening sound when you deign to grace him with a small smile. 

“Good boy. Now stick out your tongue.” 

This he also does without question, unfurling it from his mouth to pant at the air like, well. A dog. You might have found it pathetic had you not seen him in action before, had you not already gotten a brief glimpse of what he was capable of. Instead it’s resoundingly gratifying, having this powerful man at your mercy and knowing he was completely wrapped around your finger like this. You can hardly contain your own excitement as you lean in close to him. 

And spit into his mouth. Straight towards the back of his throat, and he positively quakes in response when the wad of saliva hits its mark. 

Mismatched eyes rolling skyward, Scar stiffly twitches underneath you as his cock flexes, pressing almost aggressively up into your cunt with a trembling pulse. The distantly vague sensation of something warm and damp makes itself known between your legs in a slow oozing rush that seeps up into you, and your chest practically caves in with the realization that he’d cum. Just like that. And what’s more, it seemed to be a rather powerful orgasm for as little stimulation you’d provided, given the way he roughly shakes through it, his teeth clenched tight and seething. 

It’s over much too fast, far quicker than yours had been, and he practically deflates against you with a haggard, wounded little sound only a short moment later. Slowly, you let up your hold on his hair and he gratefully ducks his face into the crook of your shoulder, letting out a territorial, rumbling growl even as he nuzzles into you. 

“Don’t get comfortable now,” You murmur. Bringing your hands down, you carefully push at his arms where they’re still locked around your middle but of course he doesn’t so much as budge, and you give a soft click of your tongue. “I still haven’t decided if I trust you or not yet. As far as I see it we’re still on opposing sides.” 

He issues a quiet, halfhearted laugh against your skin, his shoulders hunching around your slighter frame. “Ahh, so cruel, even now. Don’t tell me that didn’t earn me even a bit of consideration?” 

You think about that for a brief moment before deciding that the truth couldn’t hurt. Certainly not after everything that just happened between you and him. “You’re cute, Scar. I’ll give you that. But important decisions can’t be made so lightly. There’s more to trusting someone than physical attraction.” 

“I know, I know.” Sighing heavily, he gives you one last affectionate nudge with his nose before sitting up and letting his hold on you loosen, arms falling away to grant you your freedom. It surprises you more than anything else that’s happened out here on this desolate stretch of mountain, which was quite a feat, considering, but you weren’t about to question it. 

Shifting forward, you gingerly push up off him and climb to your feet. You can’t quite stop yourself from peeking over your shoulder though, and a fresh buzz of arousal tears through you at the sight of Scar kneeling there, big dopey eyes staring up at you, while a very noticeable wet stain bleeds into the front of his suit. It was impossible to tell how much of that was actually from him and how much of it was where your messy cunt had settled, but you quickly glance away before curiosity can get the better of you. Once was already more than enough for one night. 

“Are you going to keep following me?” 

“But of course. You are the one we want, after all.” He snickers low under his breath, like his heart wasn’t really in it at the moment. “This may not be what you want to hear, but my interest in you stretches well beyond just a single tryst. I could have you ten, a hundred or even a thousand times and I’d still want you all to myself, little lamb.” 

Frowning, you hesitantly turn to look down at him again. “But why? You still haven’t explained that yet.” 

“Oh, Rover, my darling. Do I really need to explain it? You’re you. That’s more than enough for me.” 

It’s clear you’re not going to get a straight answer out of him, probably never would, and you roll your eyes at him in annoyance. “Alright. I probably should have expected that response, I guess. Is there anything else you need? Thanks to you I need to have another bath and then take care of … wait. Where did that guy go?” 

Humming softly, Scar casually follows your line of sight over to the riverbank. The very unoccupied riverbank where only your small pile of possessions was, thankfully, still sitting right where you’d left them. 

“Hmm, looks like he got away while we were focused on other, far more important things. No need to be concerned though. I don’t think he’ll be volunteering to keep tabs on you again anytime soon.” 

Stomach plummeting into the ground, your hands fly up to clutch your suddenly very hot face. This couldn’t be happening. You’d intended to distract Scar to keep him from killing that unknown man so you could still follow through on your initial plan of questioning him when he woke up but instead he’d distracted you. Dammit! This entire trek out into the wilderness was a complete waste of time and energy, and you were right back where you’d started. Square one with no results to show for it. 

And that was to say absolutely nothing of what he was going to tell his comrades about you and the Fractsidus Overseer. Double damn! 

⭐

Crossposted: here

[swifty-fox]

@bcolfanfic number 1 enabler so heres some Curt/Ken tenderness for the late night crew

Sequel to Bcol's

and immediate sequel to my drabble here:

Curt can tell when Gale has fallen asleep because the entire house seems to take a breath. He lays in the guest bedroom still in his clothes from the airport. From the gym. Hadn’t even stopped at his shoe-box apartment to change out of the loose black joggers and shirt with his nametag. His windbreaker wasn’t nearly enough for the Wyoming winter.

“John had a gun.”

Janie’s got a gun Janie's got a gun her whole world’s come undone from lookin’ straight at the sun.

Curt taps the tune out on his chest and glances over at the blinking alarm clock. Only Buck and Bucky would still have an honest-to-god analog clock in their home. But it’s comforting in a way, reminds him of childhood where things like suicide didn’t yet exist. Three-thirty AM. The witching hour his mamo would say and blow a kiss to the Brigid's Cross over the door frame. It’s late, painfully so and Curt’s eyes are so tired they feel covered in sand. But his body is wired, wide awake; fingers stained from drywall and fresh paint flecks. 

The hole was patched.

The aftermath was going to take a lot longer to fix.

Now that Janie's got a gun, she ain't never gonna be the same.

His phone chimes suddenly and he tugs it from his pocket. He knew he was hot shit but a Grindr notification this far out in the middle of nowhere was a surprise. He swipes past it without even looking. Ken’s name is at the top of his list, several unread texts from hours ago left unanswered after Buck’s assurances. 

New York was two hours ahead of Wyoming. The sun would be rising there. 

He tries to tell himself he doesn’t need to talk to Ken. It just felt right to update him on their friends. It wasn’t about Curt and whatever comfort he needed from the younger man. You didn’t seek comfort from things that meant nothing. So it was nothing. So he shouldn’t reach out.

Besides, he shouldn’t text Ken so early when the other man was probably deep asleep, shouldn’t text him and make him feel guilty for missing any updates on Bucky. He flicks his thumb up and down, hovering over the cracked-barely-beyond-use phone screen.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles, exhaustion and dialect blurring the words together into a mumbled ‘fuggit’.

He flicks out of imessage and opens Discord. Ken’s icon was lit up, the scrolling text below it taking Curt a moment of squinting to decipher. He wasn’t old, he was tired thank you.

KennyLemon playing Among Us.

Sweet boy, Curt thinks and then pulls a face at himself. His stomach untwists the smallest amount. 

The discord call rings for all of half a second before Ken’s voice comes over the phone.

“Curt?”

His stomach untwists just that much more. “Heya Kenny. You should be asleep.” 

“I couldn’t.” 

That's what Curt loved. Liked. Hated. About Ken. He was so sincere it was sickening, cracked his damn molars with it. How he’d made it through everything without bruising that tender center of his beyond repair was a wonder to Curt. Like a peach, one Curt was more than used to sinking his teeth into. 

You got one juicy ass Lemmons.

“Curt.”

“Yeah Ken?” He liked it when the kid said his name. Made something in his chest go all soft and gooey like chocolate. 

“I said, how’s Bucky and everything else?” 

Curt blows out through his lips, tries to exhale every bit of breath in his body until he could sink into the mattress and hide from this whole damn day.

“Brains all where they should be.” 

Sometimes it was good to be vicious. It kept him from feeling too much, feeling too tender. He was a New Yorker, take away his meanness and he’d be a hermit crab without its shell.

“Jesus, Curt.”

“I dunno what t’ tell ya Kenny. He’s halfway across the state where we can’t talk to him. Buck’s half dead from exhaustion or shock or both. I spent half the night patching a bullet hole in a wall my best friend tried to put in his head.” To his shock, his vague horror he feels his throat closing up, his eyes growing hot with burning tears. “Fuck.” He sits up, wipes his eyes violently and tries to yank his jogger leg up to get the straps of his prosthetic. The soft fabric catches on the plastic, on the velcro, on anything it can find. “Fuck,” he spits again just because he can.

“You okay B?” Ken’s voice was so soft and tender Curt wants to bare his teeth at it; just to protect himself. He does, only cause the other man couldn't see and so it wouldn’t hurt his feelings. 

“Can’t get m’damn leg off.” He mumbles, feeling hot shame mingle with the frustration. It was all grief anyways, hidden cleverly behind the mask called complex emotions.

“Wish I was there. I could help you.” 

Curt closes his eyes. Sweet boy. Wish you were here too Kenny.

He didn’t catch feelings. Was renowned for it, prided himself on it. He kept things casual because it was better that way, could see the way Ken was skittish as a stray kitten at the idea of anything real. He wasn’t about to go wading around in someone else's shame, but it did hurt in a special sort of way knowing the fear Ken battled with.

“It’s pretty tense here right now anyways. Probably for the best youse not.”

Kenny’s silent for a long time and Curt tries to swallow his regret, finally winning the battle with his leg and dropping it to the floor with a pointed thump. Take that you bastard. “Yeah you’re probably right.” 

Aw Hell. “It’s not that I don’t want you here Kenny.” He says haltingly, rubs a hand through his hair he still liked to keep short, “I just- I want you here a lot. First thing I wanted to do when Gale finally went to bed was call you.”

“Oh.” Kens voice was a little shaky.

Gentle gentle, be gentle with him Curt. His ma’s voice; always lecturing. You’re too rough Curt, Slow down Curt. Don’t push good things away just cause you’re scared Curt.

“Just so you don’t forget.” He finishes awkwardly “I like havin’ you around.” 

Curt thumps AC/DC against the hollows of his ribs.

Little lover, I can't get you off my mind, no, Little lover, I've been trying hard to find.

“You’ve got a real way with words Curt.” Ken teases.

They laugh, Curt pitching his low so as not to carry through the too-empty house “If y’wanted a poet you wouldn’t be with me.” He teases. A question hidden in a statement, the first time he’d dared acknowledge there might be something.

Because fuck he wanted Ken here. Couldn’t lie to himself now that he was hearing the younger man's voice over the phone. Wanted to tuck him against his side and bury his nose into those curls; sweet smelling and warm. Wanted to press him into the mattress and remind himself that they were alive and things were okay. Ken was sweet and sugar, sometimes Curt swore he licked it off the man’s skin. Whispered it into the shell of his ear as he ground his hips into Ken’s ass until there wasn’t a single ounce of space between them.

“You taste like dessert Lemmons.”

Curt grunts and adjusts himself. He couldn’t help his brain, his drive. But it felt beyond wrong to start anything right then and now.

“Yeah,” Ken smiles. Curt can tell. Ken smiled with his words and his body, just just his sweet mouth. “You’re right.” 

Too sweet, too sincere. It made him violent, made him want to bruise and mark and tease. He rolls onto his stomach with a groan, pressing his face into the mattress and counting backwards from twenty. 

“I wanna fuck you Kenny.” His words are muffled into the duvet but still legible. 

Ken sucks in a quiet breath, Curt can practically hear the other man blush. 

“You’re just sad and scared B.”

Curt squeezes his eyes shut so hard dots spring up behind his eyelids, his throat burns hot and it takes him several breaths to stave off the tears. 

“Yeah.” he mumbles “But I still wanna fuck ya.” 

Tug his curls, lick his stomach that wasn’t quite flat despite his fit state (Curt liked it that way). Kiss him til his lips were swollen and red. Red as his pretty curved cock when Curt took it to the root and slipped two fingers inside. Ken liked his fingers, he said. Liked how thick they were, the way the callouses caught and dragged inside him. The strength of them, liked to wrap his lips around middle and index and drag his tongue between them until Curt lost hold of his already thin control.

“You don’t gotta fuck away all your feelings sweetheart.”

It’s not bitter or reproachful, Ken’s statement. It’s gentle and kind. A reminder out of love, a lever opening the floodgates on the things Curt tried to keep in control. 

He gasps. The bed sheets are wet with tears, his nose running with snot. Fucking gross. 

“I dunno how t’ fix this one Kenny.” he whispers “The goddamn bullets still in the wall, rattling around in there like a fuckin ghost. I asked Gale if we should try to get it out and the look on his face-” 

“You can’t fix it for them.” 

“Whatdy-”

“You can’t,” Ken insists. “You can hold ‘em up and support ‘em and do all the things Gale can’t manage right now but the only one who can fix Bucky is Bucky and the only ones who can fix Buck and Bucky are themselves. You can’t put that burden on yourself or you’ll crack and all youse will end up resenting each other.”

“When’d you get so smart huh kid?” 

“I’ve always been smart, and don't get weird on me.” 

Curt sniffles loudly and grossly that Ken remarks on it, making them both laugh. 

It’s Buck and Bucky he owes his life to, who he would lay down his own for. But right now he doesn’t know what he’d do without Ken Lemmons.

It’s a sobering thought, a terrifying thought; one he can sit with for only a few moments before he’s drawn into that reactionary headspace of fuck, bite, take this tender thing and force it inside your ribcage before it hurts you. 

Kinda fucks you up when you’re raised that drinking a guys blood is the ultimate act of devotion.

“I miss you.” he says and fuck him he means it.

“Take care of our boys and come home soon B.” 

[burning-academia-if]

Muahah!! You've been visited by a ghost of old IF ask past! I'm gonna bring back some iconic ones <3

So you know this scenario "MC asks whether or not they look pretty (gn) and RO finds out it's for a date"? Maybe I'm tweaking but I couldn't find it via search here i swear

BUT this is not the end!

What if MC seeing ROs reaction gently smiles at them and says: "Well, actually, it's for our date... If you'll have me"

Can we get poly reactions too? :3

teehee, thank you for your wonderful work dear author!

I answered the og ask here actually! Here's the variant version! Also I think you're the first person whose asked for poly reactions lol for the poly reacts assume the ROs have already had the feelings convo between them lol

Rook: He takes a breath, one wave of emotions replaced by another. He presses his lips together, every atom screaming in him to run away, but he can't. He couldn't deny how hard his heart twisted when you said you were going on a date. It isn't a good idea, he knows this. Yet, he can't stop himself, "...If you're fine with me."

Beck: He pauses for a moment, the faint wisp of disappointment fading and a smile blooming on his face. His voice is as gentle as yours, "Did you really think I'd say no to you?" He lets himself savor the moment, heart in bloom.

Rhea: She goes still, words failing her. Her hands still at where she'd been adjusting your shirt collar, and she's suddenly hyper aware of your warmth. Her eyes drift towards yours, and their just a little wide. Her voice is soft, "...Really?" She feels suspended in this moment with you.

Zoe: "...Huh?" Comes their intelligent response, brain trying to catch up after the initial stab of emotions. Them and you, on a date? Where would the two of you go, where do you want to go, what would it even be like- They put a halt to their racing thoughts as they realized they haven't given you a proper answer. They stumble over their words, "Y-yeah! I'd really like that!"

Lars: The initial annoyance at needing to appraise your date attire melts away to something unreadable. He stares at you hard, like he's expecting you to turn it into a joke or take it back. But there is nothing but sincerity plain on your face. He folds his arms across his chest, "Are you sure?" At your nod, he almost smiles, "Then let's go, then." He pulls you forward before you can protest.

???: They go still, the dark emotions like sludge in their bloodstream vanishing. They drift closer to you, voice quiet, "If I'll have you? MC, there are moments I think I was made for you." They stay a breath away, a question on their tongue. Is it just a date? Or do you have something more to confess. Perhaps it doesn't matter. For now, they'll just enjoy this.

Poly:

Rook/???: The Voice almost laughs, warm and bright, as they say "Both of us? I suppose we are bound together, aren't we?" When they reach for you, Rook steps forward as well, his eyes only on you, "Of course I'll have you." It's the most forward as ever been with you, especially in the realm of feelings. It's like the three of you fell into the inevitable.

Beck/Rook: Beck gives a soft smile, but he doesn't move towards you. Instead he practically pushes Rook forward, whispering something to him. You can't catch it, the faint "It's ok." Beck offers him. Rook frowns at him, before turning to you and saying, "If that's what you want." Beck's voice is a little teasing, "He means yes, obviously." Rook swats at him as he ducks away, a surprisingly warm atmosphere settling over you all.

Rhea & Zoe: "Oh! Darling, do you mean it?" Rhea presses her hands together, before nudging a shell shocked Zoe. They jump, clearly fighting for words. Rhea shakes her head at them, before saying with a smile matching your own, "We'll have you, always."

[wordycheeseblob]

*Clinks glass with spoon*

I've seen a couple of people so this and wanted to say a few words as well.

Tumblr dot com is the first and only place where I learned online connections can change lives so much or be so genuine. It's never about numbers. Each blog breathes life of the unique person behind it. So many colorful personalities brought together...

And we've been through a lot.. the great bot purge of 20', the AO3 siege, the battle of Halloween on Christmas eve, Auburn shipping wars....

I never knew I could know such friendship. I wish I could tuck in each one of my moots and give you a goodnight kiss, a hug when you're in a dark place, and scream into the void together about our interests (because what am I if not an enabler :) )

You've changed my life in so many ways and you have no idea

My wonderful artist friends, I've wondered how can the same hands that create such disaster (affectionate) manage such breathtaking art @clavissionary-position

And breathe so much life into the canon world with their own enthralling iteration (seriously somebody let him on the Devs team) @devonares I don't see you two so often around here anymore but I do hope we meet again some sunny day

thank you @mllorei for being the ride or die friend i never had, and an amazing talented writer (and artist!) And co-conspirator. Listen, this word count is severely limited for all I want to say (*whispering* like fix your sleeeeep goddamit) @krenenbaker you're a puzzle I will crack some day... A mystery yet to be solved. An evil little box of pandora. A secret mastermind of destruction *squints* but for reals, from what I've seen you're a direct and genuinely good person with a shared passion for historical fashion! (or ARE you...? Hmmm)

@venulus man you're just so iconic I have no words

@dove-da-birb another fantastic writer, I got to know you and @azulashengrottospiano somewhere at the same time. Hehe what the latter doesn't know is I orchestrated most of the shipping wars hee hee :3 and Dove, at first I wanted to bully you a bit with crowleg (please forgive this peasant) but then I think I accidentally adopted you. You, @keithsandwich and Lorei are the best crocheters I know <3

Myara's gold handiwork is honestly out of this world. Also thank you for sending me stuff and thinking of me, I really appreciate that.

@vivislosingitagain and @vioisgoinginsane 's sistership is of legendary status, and I think Vio is like a sister to Vivi. (They're clones they're clones)

Isn't it wonderful how through billions of people on earth, you've found eachother?

@thewitchofbooks my literature loving friend! (And I found out recently, great artist too??!) I hope to see you more this year, I get so happy when we interact you won't believe it...

Thank you @violettduchess for always making me smile and persevering in the face of hardship. You're strong, stand proud. @leonscape I wish you a year full of Leon, don't give up! He may not be everyone's cup of coffee, but he is to you and that's what matters.

Thank you for always being there, I see you around a lot and just wanted to thank you and wish you a new years too! :]

@candied-boys @altairring @otomefreak876 @solacedeer @this-is-war-peacock @here-for-gilbert @dear-sciaphilia @chi-the-idiot @serynhe @katriniac @mymumisasquid @olivermorningstar @caffedrine

@happy-pup you helped me a lot, I will never forget you ^^

And my new friendos here @v-anrouge @saint-garden (the gremlins) @ikemendrew @officialdaydreamer00 @jade-s-nymph @crheativity and @nuttytani I hope to see more of you this year too!

Phew... I hope I didn't forget anyone, that's a lot of people! Even a small act of kindness here has made ripples throughout the world, it reached so many people... Many things will pass but I sincerely hope,

if you're here or not, I hope this new year treats you well. And you continue with a newfound strength into the future

[nicksbestie]

can I request Luke taking care of you when you’re sick? Being super gentle when you throw up and loving on you? Thanks 😊🩷

yes!! <3

All-Nighter

word count : 1029

warnings : mention of sickness and vomiting

<3

Being sick is the absolute worst. There’s nothing that sucks more to you than being stuck in bed, sniffling, feeling terrible, and not being able to do anything about it.

And on top of that, you felt like a burden to your boyfriend. You loved Luke, and he loved you, but you always would feel like he was tired of taking care of you. He always reassured you that this was not true, but anxiety is a very powerful thing.

But that brings you to right now, curled up in bed with multiple tissues, a water bottle, a Gatorade, some painkillers, and your phone littering your nightstand. Luke was at the studio, working on a closing deadline for a song, and he had left before you woke up. He didn’t know that you were sick, and right now you had no plans to call and tell him. You fully believed that you could handle it, knowing that you were a grown adult and no longer needed to be waited on hand and foot just because you didn’t feel well. 

You gagged as you attempted to take a drink of water, and leaned over to spit it back into the trash can sitting next to your bed. You’d felt nauseous for the entire morning, but had yet to throw up. In your opinion, this was arguably worse than actually throwing up, because now you just feel anxious about doing it, and that was making the nausea worse. You’d dry heaved, gagged, everything except actual vomit. You weren’t sure which was worse, but right now, you’d rather just throw up and get it over with. 

You blearily reached for your phone, scrubbing your eyes with your free hand as you debated calling Luke. You didn’t want to make him rush home, but at the same time, you felt horrible, and he always knew how to make you feel better. Before you could second guess yourself again, you clicked the small phone icon and tapped on Luke’s name, listening to the droning ring. As it continued for a minute, you were worried he wouldn’t pick up. You were also slightly relieved, you thought, because he wouldn’t be bothered. But then, on the last ring before hearing Luke’s voicemail, the phone picked up. 

“Hey, baby!” 

The cheer in his voice made you regret calling as you choked down another wave of nausea and mumbled out a response. 

“Hi.” 

It was just one word, but Luke knew you well enough to know when you weren’t okay, and he quickly picked up on it. 

“Love, what’s wrong?” 

The immediate concern and sincerity replacing the cheer in his voice made your heart break, because now he was worried. But you couldn’t lie to him. 

“I woke up sick. Its okay, I’ll be fi-”

“I’m on my way home now, angel.” 

You could hear him shouting over and talking to the guys, announcing his early departure, and as soon as he said what was wrong, you received a chorus of “feel better!”s from all three men. He quickly left and slipped into his car, plugging his phone in and flipping the call to facetime. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you look miserable.” 

You were strong enough to make out a small laugh. 

“Thanks, babe, I love you too.”

He pouted, clearly breaking multiple speed limits and rushing home. He hung up the phone as he pulled into the driveway, and you could hear his key turn in the lock. You were still attempting to sleep, not really reacting when Luke walked into your room and immediately pressed a kiss to your forehead. He gently rested the back of his hand against the same spot he had just kissed, frowning when he felt a burning fever. 

Your water had run out, and Luke quickly grabbed it and walked back to the kitchen to refill it. He brought it back within a minute, but when he got back, you were sitting on the edge of the bed, hand over your mouth, and leaning over the trash can. He quickly set the water bottle on the nightstand, gently helping you to the bathroom and laying one of your softer towels on the ground. 

“Here, baby. Kneel on this, it’ll make it easier to clean up, too.” 

You nodded, not being able to do much else. You’d been fighting vomit for hours, and it was finally coming. Luke softly combed his fingers through your hair, making sure to hold it out of the way when you finally threw up into the toilet. After you were done, for now, you were holding the toilet bowl and taking heaving breaths. Luke grabbed a washcloth and dampened it under the sink water, softly running it across your forehead to help cool you down, and then gently wiping it under your nose and around your mouth, the cool temperature helping soothe your anxiety and panic. That was, until you threw up again, and the process repeated.

After you were done throwing up, finally, Luke gently helped you back to bed and you were able to keep some water down. He praised you, telling you he was so proud of you and you would be getting better so quickly. You tried to smile at him to show him that you believe him, but you couldn’t think of much else except how absolutely shitty you were feeling at the moment. 

“It’s gonna be okay, angel. I love you.” 

The next twenty four hours were spent with Luke cuddling you, gently cooling your face down, encouraging you to drink water every ten or so minutes, and changing the trash bin full of vomit every hour or two. He was literally the perfect boyfriend throughout all of it. He was always a good sport, truly caring about your wellbeing and not anything more than that. He never showed more than a tiny wince at the bile, and he held your hair out of your face for the whole thing. You finally fell asleep after being able to eat a small dinner, and if Luke held you close to him the whole time, and you loved it, then nobody had to know.

[blackautmedia]

Tears of the Kingdom and the use of Hands

It's frustrating how well Tears of the Kingdom incorporates repeat imagery of hands in some form. It has a lot of this great concept with it, but never really capitalizes on it or uses it in any thematically interesting way since the storytelling is so underwhelming.

From the start of the game, Link's separation from Zelda shows him reaching out and trying to grab her hand and failing to make contact, a scene that's mirrored at the end of the game when you have a moment to dive after Zelda and make the catch you failed to do at the start. The game makes sure to have a button prompt section specifically for touching her hand.

Link of course loses his arm and gets...magic emergency surgery (the disability lens of how Link is portrayed in Tears is an entirely separate conversation. Hoo wee...) and from the beginning of the game Rauru and Link are bonded together with Rauru's arm fused to Link's body. My issues with the Zonai as a race aside, this is still another part of the motif.

During multiple conversations between Zelda and Queen Sonia during the memories, they deliberately draw attention to having Sonia reach out and hold or touch Zelda's hands to emphasize the sincerity and love she's expressing. Sonia verbalizes the connection she feels not just as family but even notes how she can sense the similarities in Zelda's powers.

Honestly, for all the issues in how underwhelming Totk's storytelling is, I genuinely love these little moments with Sonia. I think they likely did it to get around possible limitations of creating nuanced facial expressions they couldn't capture easily, but I still found it very effective by helping the player relate to the sense of touch.

The completion of each temple is marked with a show of loyalty with the newly awakened sage and some variation of handshake or hand contact.

All of this makes it more of a wasted opportunity that they had a scene where Mineru is touching her late brother's hand for the first time after being in slumber for ages and they do nothing with it. You could have her tense up, maybe have her run both her hands across the top of Link's hand after getting to experience some form of touch from her brother for the first time.

There's also the fact that Mineru and Link both have the unique experience of altering their bodies and selves in service of being kept in slumber for a long period of time to carry out the responsibility of saving the world. Both of them carry the emotional weight of having to leave behind their friends, family, and the world they knew all in service of this grand plan with Zelda behind it all and yet they never capitalize on any of this. Pretty much nobody else can really relate to this situation and it'd make a great storytelling point to focus on her.

Back to the hands though, we all know the most iconic enemy in Tears of the Kingdom are the gloom spawn, which everyone calls the Gloom Hands.

The end of each shrine you're met with a Statue of Sonia and Rauru greeting you with hands held together as they stand as one.

Hands and the constant element of contact to convey significant moments would be effective in a story about community and the connection and strength that comes from cultivating it and organizing. There's also the obvious connection of unity.

TotK kind of have an aspect and theme of community care or try to lean in on that idea, but it's also messy and undermined when taken with *gestures at everything else*

I dunno. I think the repeat imagery of hands is a really thoughtful choice to convey climactic moments of these scenes. I just wish there was more actual meat to the story to give it some weight.

I've considered doing an addendum video to my Gerudo discussion talking about TotK's storytelling and maybe some of the things that come to mind with the portrayal of Ganon and the Zonai, cuz boy do they have some...implications.