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yeoldontknow · 5 years

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Colour Show (M)

Author’s Note: happy birthday to my heaven and heart, the music in the dark, the light of the universe, the glow of the stars - park chanyeol. this fic has gone through 4 title changes, 6 iterations in word count length, two plot changes, and about two years of insecurity and uncertainty from me. this is just a word for the wise: dont ever give up on your WIPs. they will always have a home, even if you think theyre a lost cause <3 | this work is entirely an act of fiction. it features subjects which may be uncomfortable to read, including but not limited to: non-traditional and indecent sexual acts, sex in public spaces, and themes of voyeurism. please do not read this story if any of these themes make you uncomfortable or you are under the age of 18. Creative Content Contributor: @chillingkoo who made this utterly stunning banner for my birthday because she is an angel ;~; Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: smut; public sex; DJ!au; romance; au Summary: While out at a night club, the DJ catches your eye. He’s confident, enraptured by the music he creates, and glows beneath the lights. With your eyes on him, the world begins to fade. But little do you know, he has his eye on you, too. Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit sex; public sex acts; mentions of drug use; masturbation; fingering (female receiving); themes of voyeurism; dirty talk; unprotected sex; creampie; explicit language Word Count: 10.5K

Hours in, the only thing you can truly feel is the heat.

Against your skin, it presses - all consuming and overwhelming and aggressive in its effort of making a home of you. Inside and out, even against the malleable tissue of your lungs, it lingers, the sweat of your body stinging as it rolls down your arms and your neck. Bodies are pressed together, your body against other bodies, foreign and comfortingly unfamiliar, their closeness helping you reach transcendence.

For one night, these men and women are your lovers - you see them as such, even if the technicality of semantics means it is not true. Symmetrically and asymmetrically, it does not matter, so long as you can touch them, feel them press against your core, teasing. All that matters in this moment, skin to skin contact with endless, nameless faces, their own flesh making you feel wet with life. Hand to the wall, a gentle chill spreads across your fingers, refreshing and rejuvenating the movements of your limbs. This kind of breeze is vital between the joints of your knuckles, just as is the vodka that slowly dries on your lips.

Hugging your body against the concrete, you stand with your eyes closed and lips parted, tongue dragging along the flesh to fight back your thirst. Your hips grind in time with the beat, smearing your shape and essence into the paint - you imagine the wall is breathing, imagine your sweat leaves stains and it swallows them whole, hungry for the taste of you to linger on its tongue. Beneath your clothes, your skin is slick, glistening beneath the lights, the glitter from your cheeks dotting the paint to birth constellations of ecstasy.

With anxious fingers, you tug at the fabric of your dress, the sheerness of the skirt sticking to you like a second skin. It’s been dampened, either by sweat or stray drops of vodka, clinging to your flesh ceaselessly. Wrinkling your nose for a moment at the feel of it beneath your fingers, you continue to roll it up, exposing the length of your thigh, rustling it back and forth to cool you.

Coursing through your veins is an energy, a live wire that seems to have been torn from your nerves and moved to live inside your blood, plugging into your sternum to dictate the rhythm of your heart. It’s the music that does this, the music and its hypnotic beat. From your position against the wall, you eye the platform upon which the DJ works, a lonely god and the maker of it all.

Even from this distance you can see the tips of his ears peeking out from under the headphones, the flush at his cheeks swallowing every light whole and turning him into something radiant and gold. It’s foolish to want him, foolish to eye him as though you are possessive, have been granted permission to be so, as though he might want you, and as though he is somehow yours.

From the moment you entered the building, you felt the music within your pulse, hauntingly familiar and hauntingly mimetic. Something about the way he looked, something about the way he spun records, something about the way he seemed to exhale the sound, made you needy. When you saw him, you realized it was not the music but he himself who lived inside you.

He was the one who built this version of your spirit, with practiced hands and a smirk at the corner of his mouth. He was the one who rearranged all your soft pieces until you decided you wanted him, you needed him, and little other than your sensual destruction would suffice.

He was the one that made you crave a great undoing, and for this you were delighted.

Snaking a hand beneath the hem of your dress, you ground your feet into the floor and press harder against the wall, keening against it with reckless abandon. In this kind of all consuming dark, the music drips down and deep into your soul, sugary sweet and not unlike syrup, and you release a small whimper of pleasure as your fingers scratch against your thighs. Heavy bass rolls around you, decides to make a home of your ribs, and the vibration against all these fragile corners makes wetness pool between your legs.

Biting your lip, you turn and open your eyes to watch the DJ, watch the way his hands fervently make the world, powerful and paradoxically delicate. Everything about the noise of him is synthetic, records spinning with knobs and computers, and yet he remains the most authentic thing about the space.

Around you, people have made themselves into the shapes of people they wish they could be, that they would like to be. Tonight, they have made armor of tight clothes and painted lips, but he exists beyond their orbit. Black shirt and jeans, he’s simple, hiding in plain sight and making sure that he is noticed.

He makes sure he is wanted.

And you want him. Oh, do you want him.

Watching him feels like kissing candy, sweetness without the purity, and you drag your tongue across your lips once more as your hands tease the line of your underwear. Briefly, your lip curls to reveal your teeth, a threat of wanting to all who dare approach you, before they clamp down, cheeks twisting your expression into a pleasurable sneer.

You’re wet, soaked just from the sight of him, but you can see his hands from this angle and that makes it easy to pretend it’s his fingers that slip under and drag along your slit. It’s his fingers that seek your heat and learn you, know you, become a master of you.

Again, you whimper at the touch, smile impishly and keep watching him, glad your sighs are being swallowed by the music. No one can hear you, no one is even paying attention to you, and it makes you feel like this space belongs to you.

Like this, this space and this man are yours.

Across the room, atop the stage platform, Chanyeol watches your display in his peripheral as he works. Pursing his lips, his tongue laps eagerly on the lollipop sucked between his teeth, imagining the sweet wetness on his tongue is yours. It takes concentration not to let his gaze wander up your legs and thighs, to where he can see the dark outline of your hand. He’s drawn to it, to your center, starts to think of it as a golden ring of purpose, and lets the blood rush to his groin as he imagines his fingers joining yours.

Thoughts race through his mind at a speed he’s not used to experiencing outside of a high, the adrenaline rush of wet lips and wet fingers enough to make anyone feel drunk.

He wonders how wet you are, wonders if your fingers are slick already or if you’re merely teasing. He wonders if you’re high, if you’re only this brave because the molly or the angel dust have made you feel limitless or if this is just another Saturday for you. Are you used to being hungry for skin and flesh, or is this all his? Are you hungry, just like him, for something a little more? Something a little more alive?

He’s got a lot of questions, and he grits his teeth on the lollipop stick to keep himself focused.

At this distance, he can see the way the light plays on your hair and skin, the smooth expanse of your chest glistening and glowing. Part of him feels envious of how liberated you are, remembers how he too used to come to clubs to get fucked and get high until he decided to make a home of it. Now, the thrill has started to fade, wet women and coke covered teeth too common to really seem dangerous. Now, he works through it, totally sober and drunk only on the bass he makes himself, gets hard beneath the narcissism of it all and doesn’t feel ashamed.

And, if he’s honest, you’re the first exciting thing he’s seen in months.

It’s when you bite your lip that he finally lets himself smile, doesn’t care if the expression is a give away because you’re too lost with yourself to really notice. He’s sure your fingers are in deep, to the knuckle judging by the way your hand seems to disappear and your eyes fall closed. This is when he calls you a chameleon, thinks the way you subtly take on the shades of the lights is something unnatural, something bewitching, a power you keep locked within your core. Turning up the treble, twisting the knob with the same affection as he’d curl his finger inside of you, he decides you were made for this: for the dark, for the sweat, for the music, and, thus, you were made for him.

Lots of women have fit this role, but tonight the bill is yours.

You look good like this, wanting and waiting and fucking your hand. Still, he thinks you’d look better on top of him.

A hand claps him on the back, sending his body arching forward slightly, though it does not interrupt his rhythm. Mostly, he finds he is upset he has been interrupted in his astute observation of your display, irritated that he has to look away.

‘It’s two, mate,’ a gruff voice shouts, pulling one of his headphones off. ‘My turn.’

Chanyeol simply nods, let’s the beat run and closes his laptop so Joel can take over. He doesn’t bother to pack up his things, knows his manager will take care of it, knows that his manager is probably used to this behavior - the detachment that follows him from one club to the next, and the way he seems to find himself a warm, pliant body the moment he steps off stage. He does not dwell on how his manager feels about this, about the bodies and the bumps of blow that seemingly line his bedroom, and he does not particularly care. Tonight, all he cares about is the warm flush on your chest and the way your body arches in time with the music.

Tonight, all he thinks about is how it will feel to have the whole length of his cock buried inside you, and little else.

Chanyeol takes his time approaching you, slows his steps and orbits around you like a lonely, hungry moon. Tucking the lollipop into the side of his cheek, he shoves his hands in his pockets and leans against the opposite wall, having his fill while filling himself with thoughts. You appear to be his age, wearing the number like a badge of honour in the corner of your eye; old enough to be in command of your body, in command and beautifully aware, but still young enough to get off on the risk.

Greedily, his tongue swirls around the lollipop, lapping at the flavor with vigor, and he imagines his tongue pressed between your folds, sucking at you with the same intensity. With your head thrown back, your fingers probe at your center, doing what his tongue does not, ass pressing back against the wall in an almost violent swivel before you run a hand through your hair. Your fingertips hit someplace deep inside, some unfathomable depth buried in the center of your core, and your lips pull into an ecstatic smile, laugh swallowed whole by the roll of bass and the timbre of an electronic drum.

At the sight of you in pleasure, he feels lonely, a heady need taking over, creeping down his spine and pushing his shoulders back. He’s used to this, used to the way desire puts tension in his neck and makes the base of his spine start to ache. To prying eyes, hollow eyes that move over him slowly through the haze of cocaine, he’s animalistic in his advances towards you, but to him, he’s simply under your spell. There’s a strength and purpose to his steps he usually forgoes for a casual grin and an impish glint in his eyes, but then, he assumes, you’re different if only because you’re bold - if only you ignite in front of him like a match.

The lollipop falls slightly from his lips as he watches you pull your hand away from your core to smell your fingers. Lips parted with wanting he watches you, tongue wet and mind filled with visions of sucking at your clit with the fullness of his lips. Coloured lights move over the slick shimmer of your fingers, and he imagines you to be sugar sweet and bitter at the root.

Chanyeol doesn’t hasten his steps, rather he takes his time moving towards you, waiting to see if you’ll taste yourself for him. He expects that you will, is delighted when you do, and knows that he will likely taste just as good to you.

He bites down on the lollipop, chewing the candy as he tosses the stick to the floor. The lollipop dissolves, but it’s sweetness remains.

Acutely aware that you are being watched, the delicate hairs on your arm stand on end at the feeling of a body approaching, thick lidded eyes opening only slightly to see the tall shadow of a man come into view. You don’t pause for him - if you’re being removed from the premises, you at least want to come before you leave. But the stranger doesn’t speak, just looms over you with a lopsided grin, one that is neither accusatory nor satisfied, simply luxuriating in your show.

Recognizing his ears in the dim glimmer of the lights, you smirk, silently pleased that you have become a magnet, that you have somehow lured him from the pedestal your desire, and your pussy, placed him on. Drawn to one another, you angle yourself towards him, an open display of interest. Cocking your head to the side, you smile, but do not stop the motion of your fingers. You want to make sure he sees.

Somewhere in the distant haze of your kind, you wonder if he’s drugged, high on something other than music or blow, something hard enough to make his posture so sure and confident. It doesn’t take long before you realize he’s simply drunk on lust, much like you. There’s no bloodshot tint to his eyes, no lazy gaze that wanders from one warm body to the next. Even with his dilated pupils, you know he’s been blown wide open by longing, by a hardness at his center his jeans that begs to be touched.

‘I could see you all the way up there,’ he comments, gesturing vaguely towards the stage, though his gaze on you does not waver.

You smile, impish and glorified. ‘Good.’ He smiles back, welcomed by this response. ‘I wanted you to.’

He steps closer, aware now that your focus on him is a mirror of his focus on you, consensual, open, and welcoming. The lights from the club highlight his features, cutting mercurial shapes as they nestle beneath his cheekbones, but even in the dim lighting you can see him clearly. The glaze in his focus is neither empty nor wired, simply hungry, trapped in a state of perpetual craving, and you like the way the slick feel of it makes your skin feel like gold. You like this feeling, the way his eyes mean to unmake you, as though he is peeling back your skin to live inside your ribs.

You like this feeling, find that it turns you into a kind of phoenix, and so when he stands fully in front of you, illuminated and combating the shadows, tall and just as hot to the touch as you, you let your hands settle at his hips, cocking your head to the side coquettishly. In kind, his hands move to yours, swaying idly, assuming you mean to dance with him. He’s being polite, and you wish he would tighten his grip, let his fingers press bruises into the flesh with intent, but you remind yourself not to rush.

So often, you spoil the moment with your natural prosperity for impatience.

Still, the motion and movement of his hips is invigorating, encouraging in its closeness. Strengthening your grip, you press against him, grinding into him, slow and unblinking. On contact, he lowers his head, and you take this as an invitation, letting your lips fall to his ear, breathing hot and wet against the shell.

‘I liked your show,’ you murmur, hoping your voice carries above the heavy drum and bass, reaching right down to pull at the intimate pieces of him. ‘You made the beat sound alive.’

Tilting his head to the side, his lips and nose graze along your temple as he speaks, a heady combination of amusement and surprise lacing through his words. ‘I could say the same to you,’ he teases. ‘I’m surprised you were listening.’

The low rumble of his voice catches you slightly off guard, deeper and richer than you would have imagined it to be, powerful in a way that commands your attention. It drips, not unlike chocolate and honey, down your tongue, making a home in the center of your ribs, the warmth of it settling in your belly and making your thighs clench around nothing. You feel your breath hitch, lungs constricting at the gravel in the underbelly of his tone, the thickness and the vibration resonating suddenly making you feel parched.

‘I felt it,’ you say, curling your lips into a pout that gently touches the lobe of his ear. ‘Isn’t that more important?’

It’s an honest statement, one that makes him start without pulling away completely. Instead, his grip on your hips tightens, drawing flush against his groin, keeping you in place. Something about your words had an effect on him, enough for him to mumble a small growl of possessive vulnerability. This close, you can smell him, the music of his cologne delicately kissing the crevices of your tongue. Over time and through the night, it’s mixed with the natural scent of his sweat, enough to briefly make you lightheaded by the force of it, moaning at the intensity.

Pieces of you ache as you pull back slightly, regarding him with heavy lidded eyes; pieces that long to be touched and long to be near him, his mere presence making the air feel thick. Beneath his skin, you imagine the blood moving in his veins like wildfire, exhilarated by your words. It fascinates the way you don’t just merely see the corner of his mouth turn upward, devilish and playful in its slow reveal of his desires, but you feel it. All over you, you feel it.

The heat of his smile walks down your spine, building a wetness between your folds that makes you bit your lip. His own gaze wanders over your skin, over your cheeks, down your neck and shoulders, to where his hands linger at your hips. Matching his smile, coy and coquettish, the knowledge his gaze as lowered, as best it can, to the curve of your ass beneath the hem of your dress makes you feel emboldened. And so you grind against him, slowly, handling your hips to rub over the hardened bulge beneath his jeans.

Licking his lips in approval, a tight moan rumbling through his sternum like thunder, he lets his eyes wander back up to yours, lingering momentarily to admire the plump fullness of your lips.

Moving one hand from your hip, he comes to cup your cheek, easing your head to the side with a gentle and careful touch. It’s his turn to offer delicate attention to your ear, the touch of his lips barely there, whispers on the wind of primal desire. When his lips move, the softness of the skin sends shivers down your nerves, the strong, confident diction in his voice an erotic experience of its own.

‘There’s a lot I can make you feel,’ he breathes, hot and heavy and smirking at the way you seem to bend beneath his touch, malleable.

Proving that he means it, that he means everything he says, he pulls back just enough to keep his gaze trained on yours, serious and heated. As though waiting for your denial, he inches closer still, pressing a knee between your legs to part them. The tease of feeling him between your thighs forces a sigh from your lips, and he smiles, knowing. Leaning to drag his nose along the slope of your neck, the even exhale of his breath cascades down your spine and into your core, making your walls clench in arousal.

You don’t hide the way this makes you laugh, the sound loud enough to be heard over the drum and bass. ‘You’re terrible at pick up lines.’

It’s a half-hearted comment, a truth nestled between a lie. Yes, he is terrible at pick up lines, but he is exquisite in execution.

Unfazed by your teasing comment, he joins you in laughter, the deep richness making you terribly aware of the wetness between your thighs. ‘Most of the time, people can’t hear them. They just want to be handled.’

He hangs onto handled as if the word itself is a tactile experience, a physical contact that makes the world around you bend. It seems unfair he should hold so much of you, so much and so tightly, and so you glide your hands along the waistband of his jeans, toying with the hem of his shirt.

tilting your head just enough to let your lips graze his ear, you scratch your nails into the soft skin that lingers beyond his belt. It's soft, warm, supple, the sweetness of a man so unlike the way his hands clutch at your body. He whimpers slightly at the contact, lips parting to release a small, barely there sigh. Smiling to yourself, you continue your ministrations, hoping this will entice him enough to handle you.

Forming your lips into a pout, kissing at his ear as you speak, you whisper, ‘Then why are you taking your time?’

A dark chuckle rolls through his chest, his grip tightening possessively.

‘Because you’ve been greedy,’ he states, leaning back to regard you with a dark, hungry stare.

Stepping forward until you are pressed flush between him and the wall, he considers you, gaze dominant and commanding. With slow, teasing rolls of his hips, he guides the hardness of his erection into your mound. Eyes on your skin, he watches the flush of desire that blooms across your chest as he does this, mesmerized by the way it smears itself across your neck, contagious enough to make your skin burn hot. Something about his gaze pierces you, makes the nerves along your skin feel sensitive, stimulated to the edge of a precipice and lingering on anticipation.

‘And I’m selfish,' he finishes. 'I want to feel you first.’

He guides his hand between your bodies, the base of his palm massaging deftly at your core. With the sudden direct pressure, your hips roll up into his hand, a current of electricity wandering down into the base of your spine. Naturally, your legs part wide, feet sliding across the floor just enough to make room for him where you want him most.

‘Can I touch you?’ he mumbles, cocking his head to the side as he watches pleasure morph your expression. The force of his palm increases, echoing his sentiment of how badly he wishes to feel you first. 'Can I feel all of you, on the inside?'

Anyone else, anyone less magnetic or compelling as him, and you imagine you would have laughed at the turn of phrase. On a boy, such questions of permission would have made you laugh, aware that you were dealing with someone who did not know how to read a woman. On him, his politeness and quest for permission feels liberating, placing you in a position of control - leading your pleasure with the power you deserve.

Nodding, unable to form words, you simply hum, whining at the loss of his hand, lonely and needy for his touch. He keeps his eyes on yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth, sliding two fingers inside, all the way to the knuckle. Not once does he blink, hollowing his cheeks, gaze heated, as he sucks and sucks, gaze piercing. The sight of his lips, pulled down to a soft, full pout, mixed with the anticipation of the strong bone of his fingers, puts a wetness at your core that makes you feel as though you are dripping with eagerness for his touch. Hot to the touch and feeling volatile, you arch your back against, lifting slightly from the wall to let your breasts press against his chest.

Smirking at your impatience, he pulls his fingers from his mouth and eases his hand beneath your dress. With his thumb, he guides the waistband of your underwear to the side, teeth coming to bite his lip on contact and feeling how wet you are - how wet you made yourself for him during the course of his set, and how wet he will soon make you, teasing your folds apart to make room for his hand. Leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, he guides his middle finger into your core, one long stroke against your walls that has you gasping.

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against him and ensuring you are caught beneath the umbrella of his warmth, stimulated and aware, now, by and of nothing but him. His finger continues its slow, deep caress, and you roll your hips into him, the solidness of his finger a bliss you had craved from the moment you saw him perform. Reaching your own arm between your bodies, you cup your hand and rub the base of your palm over the erection trapped beneath his jeans. Growling, he tilts his hand just enough to let his thumb press a slow circle against your clit, appreciative and teasing.

‘Tell me your name,' he whispers, the roll of his voice a live current that cascades down your neck.

Consumed and swallowed by him, you smile. ‘Y/N.’

Your name is a gasp on your lips of pleasure, his thumb pressing at your clit in time with the thrust of his finger. Clutching him a little tighter, you roll against him once more, desperate for the fullness of his touch.

Almost sweetly, he returns your smile, though the seduction of his intent nestles aptly between his words. ‘Isn’t it nice hearing the sound of your own name like that?’

‘Tell me yours,' you mumble, tongue rolling across your lip to moisten the flesh.

Distracted, his eyes trace the motion of your tongue and offering you the brief delight of witnessing the thickness of his eyelashes as red and blue lights swirl overhead. ‘Didn’t you see the show?’

Chuckling at the almost innocent egoism of the sentence, you make to speak before he curls his finger in your core, hitting a new angle that steals your breath. Furrowing your brow, you lick your lips once more, gathering the strength and focus to speak. ‘People don’t come to clubs for the DJ.’

He smirks at your coy teasing, presses his thumb against your clit in a firm circle while his index finger comes to settle between your folds, his fingers making a light v shape.

'Funny,' he mumbles, alluding to the obvious pun but does not say it. Instead, his focus settles on your features as he thrusts both fingers inside you, your moans coming in light bursts. 'My name is Chanyeol,' he clarifies. 'Do you want me to take you home?'

Biting your lip, cup his erection beneath your palm, pressing in time with his thrusts into your folds. ‘Are you a shy boy?’ you question, teasing though not altogether sincere. A pink flush rushes to the tip of his ear, and you pull your hand from his groin to let the tips of your finger gently caress the tip.

On contact, his eyes flutter shut, lips parting on a sigh. ‘Not really,’ he manages, eyes opening once more fixing you with an impassioned stare. ‘Do you want me to fuck you here?’

His free hand moves from your waist, knees bending to pin you against the wall, as he rests his hand against your throat. Like this, he tests your boundaries, watches you with an erotic, eager fascination as you bend and give over entirely to him, your walls starting to clench around his fingers, willing him to remain inside.

Feeling your skin flare and your gaze darken, possessive and possessed, you swallow thickly. ‘I want you to fuck me.’

Leaning down, Chanyeol captures your lips with a wet, light kiss, his tongue escaping behind the kiss to lap sweetly at your bottom lip before pulling back just enough to let his breath tickle your cheeks. ‘Do you want everyone to see?’

The sugar from his kisses settle between the thin crevices of your lips, your tongue flicking out to gather them.

‘You’re used to being seen,' you counter breathlessly.

You grind into his fingers hands coming to grip at his shoulder blades as you feel your orgasm start to settle at the base of your spine, the coil in your belly threatening to tighten behind the fire he has put into your blood.

Humming in agreement, he adds a third finger, slipping inside you with ease, your wetness coating his palm. ‘Are you?’

Shivering and stimulated by the size and thickness of his strong fingers, you simply nod, clutching to him as your grind into him, desperate. Taking this as a sign of your oncoming orgasm, Chanyeol increases the pace of his thrusts, his thumb tapping at your clit in time with his fingers, forgiving and almost apologetic for keeping you on edge for so long. With the new, invigorated force of his thrusts, your moans come louder, his hand lingering softly at your throat as he bends down to swallow your sounds, kissing your lips deftly and with a deep intensity that provides encouragement.

Around his fingers, your walls clench, thighs tightening as your heart begins to battle against your chest, the burn of your orgasm making your thighs and legs sting with the effort of keeping upright. Sensing this, Chanyeol removes his hand and replaces it at your waist, his hold strong and comforting. Held tightly against him, his breath all over your skin, his fingers curling at your core, knuckles gliding roughly at your walls, the thickness of this penetration, you find yourself consumed by him.

Your head rolls onto his shoulder, wet gasps of breath panting into the skin, stimulated and driven to an edge of pleasure that makes your muscles ache.

'I'm -' you gasp. 'I'm going to come.'

The clenching of your walls comes without your control, the intensity of the pleasure unmaking your semblance of reality as he thrusts and thrusts his hand into you, a promise of something larger, thicker, and heavier.

Gently, he eases your head back, and you whimper, eyes squeezed closed as you rest against the wall, readying to let your orgasm take you.

'Eyes on me,' he commands, voice rough. The thunder clap of his words as your eyes opening, vision blurred by pleasure. He smiles. 'Eyes on me when you come.'

The heavy arousal on his voice is what sends you over the edge, your brow furrowing as you choke on a gasp from the force of it. The lights of the club paint his features into kaleidoscope of pleasure, his smile the focal point as sound drowns and the rush of your blood fills your ears. Shuddering, the waves of pleasure course through your muscles, walls clenching tightly around his fingers, the shudder of pleasure rattling your bones until your feel weightless, burned into nothingness by the force and prowess of his touch. Your back arches forward, sending your chest into his, still as you keep your gaze on his, seeing without seeing, the world little more than smears of ecstasy.

Chanyeol holds you tightly, clings to you - the only tangible form your nerves can discern. His grip on you is reassuring and unwavering, keeping you secure against him and the wall as your limbs struggle to regain their strength. Your walls continue to clench around his hand, the aftershocks of your orgasm still igniting along your skin.

'Beautiful,' he whispers, tucking your head against his shoulder and mumbling into your hair. 'I knew it would be beautiful.'

You cling to him, the air in your lungs little more than a burning ache as you struggle to catch your breath. Against his strong frame, your mind swirls with the tactile feel of him, the smell of his cologne clouding your senses until your world is comprised of nothing but him. Anchoring you against him, you feel safe, comforted, his fingers stilled inside you, ensuring you remain tethered to him.

He's careful as he pulls them out, delicate and fast enough that he does not cause you pain. The affection of this action catches you off guard, makes you nuzzle into his neck, your feet feeling the earth return once more as your bones reform beneath your skin. Not once does he relinquish his grip on you, almost greedy with his touch and holding you close until the strength in your hands returns, pressing into the muscles of his back and shoulders.

Slowly, the world recreates itself around you both. The heavy bass from the speakers, Chanyeol's breaths against your skin, the throng of people as they talk, yell, dance, clink glasses, the world a cacophonous resonance beyond his arms.

'Better?' he asks, kissing against your hair as he speaks. 'Can you stand?'

Nodding, you pull back from him, breathing heavily and feeling dazed. The smile on your lips makes your cheeks hurt, painful in the way it seems locked in place, and you’re unsure how long it has been pulling at the skin.

For a moment, you simply regard one another, Chanyeol flushed and warm, looking pink and heated even under the purple and blue lighting that hits him. He, too, breathes heavily, lifting the hand that had been inside you to his mouth, sucking the fingers once more. Eyes falling closed, he moans at the tastes, hollowing his cheeks to suck them clean. The sight of him pools new wetness between your thighs, whimpering at how sensitive yet needy you are.

When he pulls his fingers from his lips, he keeps his gaze on yours, heavy lidded and pupils dilated to a blackness that makes your breath hitch. Slowly, he drops to his knees, delicately grazing his fingers up the outside of your legs. Falling back against the wall, his barely there touches make you bite your lip, gazing down your body to him as he watches you with intent. His hands find the band of your underwear, thumbs dragging along the skin of your hips and making you tremble. Gripping the band, he guides them down your legs, nudging at your ankles to ease you out of them.

Licking your lips, you watch as he rises to a stand once more, his own mouth parted. For a brief moment, you see him not unlike a kitten, someone who has been so close to the strong scent of desire, they've opened their mouth just enough to swallow it whole. Bunching the cotton into a ball, he places it in his pocket, and cocks his head to the side, waiting, perhaps, for your words of protest.

It's a possessive thing to do, an action no one has ever done with you before, and while you aren't entirely certain what to make of it, you admit you are relieved the soaked fabric has been removed from your core. The light breezes that makes its way up your skit is refreshing, liberating, and, for this, you are grateful.

‘Come home with me.’

This, you realize, is not a question. Chanyeol keeps his eyes on you as he speaks, asking to be polite, just like always, but, this time, knowing that you will follow. Wordlessly, you regard him, eyes glassy and feeling yourself still drifting into the world that he has built, just for you. Reality clashes with the universe he has made, a universe of light and bliss and pleasure; a world that smells of wanting and delivers ecstasy, while the world as you know it lingers outside - beyond your reach.

Cold, is how you have come to see it, now. Empty of wonder without his hands to pull it from your bones.

‘I told you I’m selfish,' he continues when you offer him no reply. ‘I want all of you, and I want to be the only one who sees.’

It does not go unnoticed by you that, for two people so enraptured and aroused by sound, music, and sight, the drive to his house is altogether eerily quiet. But this, of course, does not mean the longing has dissipated.

Confined in the limited space of his car, the world seems to narrows, arousal and longing seeming to seep from the pores of your skin. The leather of the seat, initially, was cool to the touch, but the heat of your body has warmed it, made the flesh of your thighs feel moist with wanting. Your legs remain spread on the seat, aware that your wetness will drip onto the fabric, wanting him to miss you and smell you long after you have departed.

Chanyeol grips the wheel with a white knuckled determination, eyes trained on the road as you keep your eyes trained on him. Even over distance and time, the fullness of his erection has not reduced. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the road while your eyes study the tent in his jeans, wanting to feel the thick, veined heat of his cock pressed against your tongue, mouth and soul full of him. You wonder how he would feel, just as forceful and commanding as his hands; how he would sound, your shy and sweet boy, vocal and loud and yours, begging for release.

‘I can feel your eyes on me,' he announces, words clipped and voice thick, full of a gravel that makes him rasp.

At the sound, your walls clench around nothing, the ghost of the memory of his hand returning once more, aching for his cock, his tongue, his essence, to fill you. He, too, has parted his legs wide, making room for the heaviness of his cock and balls, uncomfortable while remaining steadfast in his urgency to get home.

‘Do you like it?’ you ask, enunciating the syllables of your words, ensuring he hears the wetness you hold in your mouth, reminding him the wetness you carry between your legs.

Almost imperceptibly, he nods, swallowing thickly as your eyes trace the motion of his Adam's Apple. ‘You’re making me so fucking hard.’

Impish and almost cruel, you spread your legs wider, knowing he will see the motion from the corner of his eyes. Legs spread, you lift the hem of your dress to reveal the fullness of your core, leaning back into the seat with a prideful grin.

‘God, I can fucking smell your cunt,' he mumbles, eraser ting his grip on the wheel to keep himself composed.

Cocking your head to the side, you let your hand fall between your legs, running your left index finger over your folds, gathering the wetness. Chanyeol's shoulders tense, aware of this motion, a grin of gleeful pride tugging at your cheeks as you lightly gather more. Carefully, you reach over, letting your finger glide along his bottom lip, smearing your juices over the skin.

A hungry growl rumbles through his chest, his tongue coming to lick at your fingers he sucks it into his mouth. The wet muscle laps circles over your finger, pulling a light, breathy moan from you as he licks it clean. When he releases it, your hand falls to your side, muscles feeling limp.

‘Fuck,’ he whispers, words drenched with lust, the full force of your wetness on his lips making him breathless. ‘The smell and taste of you is going to drive me crazy.’

A fire blossoms in the pit of your stomach, grounding you in the iron core of his words. It’s rare for you to want someone this way - enough to go home with them, enough to let the pleasure extend beyond a single moment of your own pleasure, enough to want to feel more of him. But it seems fair, you think, the resolute notion that he made you this way, used sound and vision to move you in a perpetual state of cosmic need.

He did this, and it’s only right that he finish it.

The stairs to his flat are crooked, framed by a dimly lit hallway where the shadows on the walls are impossibly tall, lingering seductively on the paint. You’re sure you’re making noise as you climb, awkward and fumbling against his body as you hold him or he holds you, or perhaps you hold each other, soaked and stained now with the essence of one another, and blended into one cosmic whole. You’re sure you are loud but you do not hear your footsteps, ears ringing from the sound of the music and the sound of his hot breath.

Chanyeol trips on the last step, both of you laughing at a level neither of you can discern but you watch the way his chest heaves as he laughs, watch the way his cheeks turn pink and feel yourself begin to float. Outside, dawn is kissing the sky, painting it gold and blue, but inside, against his door, Chanyeol paints the world in a kaleidoscopic myriad of beauty. It reverberates along your skin, vibrating down to your core and making your thighs clench with wanting. Like this, he is a bright spot, a sun trapped against the frail magic of bones, and the risk of being burned by his hot hands does not outweigh the burn of his tongue against yours.

The peephole for 6B is rusted, the wood tarnishing from age and neglect, but his door has been painted black, and even in your stupor you fight to suppress a laugh, recognizing his Rolling Stones reference.

This is usually where people apologize or make excuses - for the state of their flat, for the unexpected arrival of you in their lives; the implication that they always assumed they’d be lonely and longing, all of these things a lie but somehow reassuring in their simplicity. Excited, and therefore encouraging. But Chanyeol doesn’t apologize. You’re aware that he does not need to, that he wears your juices on his lips and fingers, yet you imagine that he doesn’t ever.

Chanyeol operates outside of expectation, and therefore likely never apologizes for the state he is in when he receives pleasure.

Upon entry, you are acutely aware that the flat is small, a studio, and it strikes you that this space could barely contain him. It's small, small enough that you cannot fathom the breadth and reach of him would have room here, the full length of his wingspan likely larger than the square footage of the space, but he turns you, pulls you to his chest and steals your lips in a hungry kiss, silencing any further thought in your mind. Languidly, he moves his mouth over yours, cupping your cheeks with hot hands, a fervor that makes his skin hot. In kind, you wrap your arms around his neck, fisting your hand in his hair, rough and hard and needy.

He’s gentle in the way he walks you backwards, does not move his lips from yours, simply moans over your tongue as he wastes no time in guiding you to the mattress and box spring in the back corner. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, his hands move to your hips, pulling you firmly against him, the hardness of his erection pressing into your belly. Even through the fabric of your dress, the heat from his fingers radiates onto and into you, spreading like a fever through your blood. Chest flushed and tight, mind fogged and consumed by the flavor of his tongue as it glides over yours.

The backs of your calves bump against the mattress, staggering you into him just enough for the kiss to break, both of your sighing in discontent. Your vision blurs at the edges while Chanyeol regards you with half lidded eyes, lips pink and swollen. Arousal pools between your folds, dripping over to smear your thighs at the sight of him, trapped in a blissful state of arousal, eyes dark and cheeks flushed. His tongue comes to run across his lips, breathless in the effort of learning to breathe without your mouth on his, and you lean forward, capturing the pink muscle with your lips to offer a brief, gentle suck before pulling away.

Chanyeol raises himself to his full height, and for a moment you find yourself overcome, awed by the length and the power that is carried in the steel of his spine. He’s strong, rigid, and so impossibly soft - warm to the touch yet immalleable beneath your hands, the muscles in his arms and back solid enough for you to consider him your anchor in a storm. Emboldened, he lifts his hands from your hips and grips the hem of his shirt, pulling it over head. Eyes on yours, gaze unwavering, he drops the shirt to the floor, the red smears of desire burning beneath his skin. And, just as slowly, he moves his hands to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button with a hungry, euphoric stare.

You follow suit,fingers guiding the hem of your dress lightly over your thighs, revealing more and more of yourself to him, a thrill of provocative seduction racing over your synapses as you watch him swallow thickly, captivated by the slow reveal of your skin.

‘This is unfair,’ you murmur, whispering your dress just over your core, delaying the pull of the fabric overhead. ‘I’m wearing so much less than you.’

Chanyeol laughs, a deep rumble that would go unnoticed if your attention had not been entirely tuned to him. Rolling back his shoulders, he cocks his head to the side, considering your words and the state of you - already missing underwear, wet enough to want and need him again - guiding your shoes off with a smile.

‘The shoes count, right?’

You keep your voice innocent, soft and sweet and so unlike. you, a game that you have learned to play and know that he will continue willingly, if only because he has already felt you come around his fingers, unafraid of being witnessed and found.

‘Of course they do,’ he replies with a slight nod, his own voice a gentle caress that raises gooseflesh along your skin. ‘But you didn’t give me a chance to catch up.’

With that, he thumbs his zipper down and flays the jeans open, your gaze dropping to the muscles that lightly carve his hips and the soft patch of hair that leads down below his briefs. Mouth running dry, the muscles in your thighs tighten, body parched and starved for the graze of your teeth over his skin. Your grip around your dress tightens as he eases his jeans down his legs, your focus torn between the erection that springs to full attention and the length of his legs, strong and powerful, hands already imagining the feel his ass beneath your palm.

Chanyeol steps out of his jeans, kicking off his own shoes in the process, thumbing the band of his briefs as he regards you, lips falling into an expectant pout.

‘I believe it’s your turn.’

Running your tongue over your teeth, you smile, eyes locked on the fire that lingers in his gaze, pulling the dress over head. He hisses at the sight of you, no underwear and the lace of your bra sheer enough for the delicate circles of your nipples to be seen. Slipping his hand beneath his briefs, he nods in encouragement, gripping his cock and easing it over his length, pumping himself as he watches. Emboldened and unshy, you let your dress fall to your feet, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra.

You’ve done this before - countless times with men and boys and people who never really understood how to handle you. But something about Chanyeol’s possessive, unwavering stare makes you feel comforted, secure, empowered. He pumps his cock slowly, admiring you with a focus that speaks of learning, of witnessing the person before you, rather than rendering the curve and shape of their body to a mere tool of pleasure. With his eyes on you, the colours of the world seem to come into full focus, brightened by being the center of his attention.

Your spine straightens, desire laces itself around places you did not think to associate with wanting - your hips; your breasts, aching for the firmness of his touch; your neck, desperate to be held; the backs of your knees, imagining the gentleness of his caress as he wraps you around the sharp angles of his body. These new aspects of your warning and of your body restructure your perception of yourself, your womanhood. With Chanyeol’s eyes on you, you feel important, sacred, and you chuckle to yourself, a muted, almost reticent, sound he does not seem to notice, bemused that it is in the quiet, morning grey of his apartment that you should feel so alive.

As your bra joins your dress on the floor, he nods to the bed, hand still stroking his cock without urgency.

‘Get on the bed,’ he commands, gently. ‘Show me how you touch yourself.’

Again, something about this feels unfair, his words slithering through your ribs and into your core, still wet and tingling with the memory of his hand. ‘What about you?’

Almost too sweetly for an encounter such as this, he speaks, the weight of his words a contrast that pulls at your nerves. ‘I’ll get mine when I’m inside you.’

You’re aware the smile you offer him is lewd, wet lipped and tongue heavy as your body instinctively puts the sensation of his cock between your walls. Clenching around nothing, you moan at the thought, emboldened and enticed, finding yourself altogether too impatient to take your time.

Easing yourself back on the bad, you keep your eyes on him as you move, settling on the center of the mattress and spreading your legs wide. Resting on your elbows and cocking your head to the side, you let your left hand fall your core, the pads of your middle and index finger almost leisurely in the tender way they spread your wetness over your slip. Biting his lip at the sight, Chanyeol uses his free hand to guide his briefs down over his hips, pulling his cock free as he pumps himself, enticed by your display.

The sight of his hardened length makes you feel empty, hollow and hungry and restless, a keening whine escaping from the back of your throat as you slip your fingers between your folds, wanting something as solid as his cock to keep your satisfied. You take your time easing your fingers in and out, pressing your knuckles against your walls and spreading your folds apart for him to watch, and he matches your pace, running his thumb over the purpled head of his cock as he watches your core spread.

No one has ever asked this of you, asked to see the way you make yourself in pleasure and cared enough to remain poised in the act of witnessing. Neck red and ears burning, Chanyeol works at keeping his composure, and so to do your nails drag along the black cotton of his sheets, keeping yourself calm and keeping yourself from calling his name. No one has ever asked to learn you this way, not with such intensity, the glistening of precum on his tip enough to reassure you that he yearns for you, just as badly as you yearn for him.

Picking up your pace, you press the base of your palm against your clit, applying pressure without offering too much stimulation, wanting his hand, his fingers, his mouth to be the thing that bring you over the edge. Head rolling back, you feel your fingers get coated with more juices, imagining the way his mouth would feel at your neck, the way his breath would feel on your breasts. Biting your lip, your skin begins to feel taught, nerve endings starting to flare in anticipation of his biting kisses.

With the ringing of your ears beginning to dim, you hear the way he gasps between the slick sounds of your juices, his breath coming in uneven exhales and your own exhales pulling soft whimpers from the center of your core. Like this, his apartment becomes alive with both of you, the quiet loudness of these sounds enough for you to drown, your hips rolling into your hand, desperate to be full of something far longer than the delicate smallness of your fingers.

Without warning, the speed of his strokes increases in pace, his grip tightening as he watches the way your pleasure builds and builds at your core and along your neck, nipples hard and pink and painfully ignored. The threads of your orgasm pull at you, tightening within your thighs, your toes clenching and unclenching against his sheets as your own pace begins to increase. It remains distant and far off, a promise demanding to be kept, and you close your eyes, focusing on the erratic, electric shiver it offers you.

‘Stop,’ comes Chanyeol’s voice, tight enough to break.

When you look at him, he stands at the foot of his bed, hand off his cock though it remains beautifully hard, eyes full of lust. He crawls onto the bed, a prowl that has you staring him onward and into you, your legs instinctively widening to welcome him home. Wrapping each arm under your thighs, he pulls you to him, keeps his eyes on yours as he uses his nose to guide your hand away, lowering his face until he is close enough to press a kiss to the center of your slit.

It’s the only warning you have before his tongue glides into your core, the hot wetness of it tearing a moan from the marrow of your bones. His fingers tease slow circles at the sensitive skin of your groin, his tongue curling inside you and making sweat build at the base of your neck. Falling back on the bed, you feel your back arch as he hums against you, letting the low baritone of his voice vibrate into you, rattling loose a pained, needy cry that echoes off the walls. Pulling his tongue from your core, he removes one of his arms and eases two fingers inside you, stretching you wider than he had at the club, his lips wrapping around your clit at offering a powerful suck.

Crying out, your hand falls to his head, your hips rolling up to ride against his mouth messily, carding your fingers through his hair. The same way the dawn between to peek, gold and purple through the window beside the bed, so too does your orgasm, your hips feeling tight and your toes curling into the sheets once more. Your hand falls to your breast, massaging what you can, aching to be consumed and pressed and full, clenching around his fingers.

Feeling the force of your walls around his knuckles, he swiftly removes his fingers and lowers his mouth back, letting his tongue return to your core, drinking you down with an eagerness that makes you feel soaked. You’re dripping - with him and into him, thighs smeared and sheets stained - dissolving beneath the intensity he delivers to every choice he makes, this time your pleasure being his sole focus. His fingers press at your clit and you tremble, shaking and feeling yourself begin to be unmade. Somehow, he has learned your cosmology, learned its genetic make up and learned how to shatter it, his tongue and hand at your core enough to burn you to ash.

Feeling your orgasm build, no longer threads of a promise but the scorched tattoo of desire within your veins, you swallow thickly and gather your voice. ‘Cock,’ you announce, a whimper mixed with a moan.

Pulling back, Chanyeol stills his fingers and regards you, black eyed and wet lipped, licking you from his lips as he awaits further command. The sight of him, so consumed by you, painted by you, makes you gasp, a thirsty sound that makes you feel impossibly small.

‘Cock,’ you repeat. ‘I want you inside me. I want to come around you.’

Nodding, he swallows you down and moves up your body, nestling between your legs until his chest is pressed against yours. Breathing deep, he lets his hand caress your cheek before he tilts your head back against the pillow and captures your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue tracing the curved inside of your mouth, ensuring your taste yourself on his tongue. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you grind up into him, his cock trapped between you as you suck at his tongue, drinking what you can while your fingers etch their prints into the soft silk of his skin.

Reaching between you, he grips his cock and positions it at your entrance, tiling his head back enough to watch you with concern. Furrowing his brow, he runs the tip over your slit, a whimper of frustration splintering between your ribs, a pathetic sound that you don’t bother to hide. Chanyeol eases himself inside you, slowly, taking his time to make sure you feel the full length of him, allowing himself to fill you completely as he watches the way the pleasure of this stretch morphs and contorts your features.

Buried to the hilt, he remains there, keeping still and letting you adjust while he angles himself down, cupping your breast in his hand and sucking your nipple between his teeth. The sudden stimulation as you clenching around him, your eyes widening at the sudden eroticism of the action, and he releases the nub, his eyes squeezing shut.

‘Fuck,’ he chokes out. ‘You’re so tight, if you keep doing that I won’t be able to last.’

Smirking, you roll your hips upward, encouraging him to move, kept on edge for along you fear you may come apart on impact, clenching as you do so. Both of Chanyeol’s hands come to your hips, stilling your actions with a fierce stare that moves directly into your core, hot and severe and so desperately sensual.

‘Is that how you like it?’ he whispers, regarding you with an impish smile.

He does not wait for your reply, simply guides his hips back, pulling himself out before thrusting back into you in one swift motion. Choking out a moan, your fingers press into his skin, nails scratching hard enough to leave marks as he sets a brutal, unforgiving pace. Burying his face in your shoulder, he pours his moans into your skin, your own moans the shattered, broken gasps of intense pleasure, his piercing thrusts deep enough to send the mattress roughly back into the wall.

The smell and feel of him makes you feel dazed, your focus narrowing to only him - the wetness of his breath, the force of his thrusts, the press of his thumbs into your hips, enough to leave bruises that will leave you aching for him for days. Legs shaking, your eyes begin to water, your concept of reality starting to dissolve into nothing but the feel of him inside you, the almost painful way he drives himself into you, pleasure burning beneath your skin, mind numb with nothing but the desire to come.

Widening your legs to take him in deeper, you angle your head back and feel him press against your spot, mouth opening on a silent gasp. In this single moment of ecstasy, you watch the dawn fully break through his window, the first golden beams of morning light spilling over his skin, and for a moment, you feel as though you are fucking the sun, holding fire and gold and magic in your hands, eyes watering as tears of lust and love and pleasure build in your eyes.

‘Can I come in you?’ he asks, biting at your skin after he speaks, his thrusts unrelating in the pace they keep. ‘Can I come - I want to come inside you.’

His words smear into nothingness, reaching through the haze of your fogged mind, high and drunk and alive on the pleasure each snap of his hips delivers. The way he asks, the way he blooms, the way he knows how to keep you wired on nothing but him, for a moment you feel not unlike the moon learning how to collide with the stars, seeking their light.

Tightening your legs around his waist you nod furiously against his skin. ‘Come in me,’ you affirm, breathless and lost in space and time and pleasure. ‘Come in me.’

Once more, he moves his hands between your bodies, finding your clit with ease as he swirls his fingers in messy circles, tapping in patternless coordination. Gasping for breath, the universe blooms behind your eyes, your orgasm a colour show that brightens the sun, the dawn, the sky. Chanyeol comes alive beneath you, your thighs trembling as you feel wetness spill from you, smearing him and yourself, drenched by the force of your pleasure. Against his chest, you tremble, shattering by the force of his touch and his thrusts.

Inside you, Chanyeol spills, his thrusts shuddering with a violence that feels sinful, the heat of his come spilling into you, warming you, much like the beams of the sun in the morning haze. He moans as he comes, long and thunderous, a storm that breaks against your skin, cosmic and unyielding in its force. Your name echoes off your bones, off the clouds, into the distance as he thrusts and thrusts, slowing with each move of his hips until he stills inside you, panting for breath as you cling to him, feeling vulnerable and so impossibly alive.

You aren’t sure how long you stay like that, breathing with one another, stroking his hair as he kisses at your neck. Over time, your breaths align, breathing together in a unison that feels harmonious, musical in its cadences. Chanyeol softens inside you, mumbles a soft curse as he pulls out, rolling onto his back not before he pulls you to his chest, keeping the same even rhythm of your breath as you watch the day bleed and break, dawn turning into early morning much too soon for your liking.

Eyes feeling heavy, you feel yourself begin to doze when he inhales sharply, taking the opportunity to speak.

‘I’m gonna think about your face when you come for a week,’ he announces, still gazing up at the ceiling as his fingers stroke idly down his spine.

Smiling, you glance up at him, lifting your hand to trace along the hard edge of his jaw. ‘If you take my number, you won’t have to only think about it.’

Taking his turn to glance down at you, you smile at one another, letting the morning and the light carry you. And, in your hands, you hold the sun, the morning, and the music, the waves of the universe vibrating, lovingly, beneath your fingers.

#chanyeol smut #chanyeol x reader #exosnet #kpopwonderlandtag #exo smut #chanyeol romance #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol au #chanyeol fanfiction #chanyeol scenario #exo romance #exo au #exo scenario #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #park chanyeol #tw: public sex kink #tw: voyeurism #chanvember 2019!

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newspecies · 3 years

Text

HAI!!! i feel like all my followers have no idea what the fuck im talking about when i say things about my stories so uhm im gonna talk.

before i say anything im just gonna say that when i talk about the gods i generally refer to everyone else as mortals even if theyre not technically mortal. also i call the people of Earth humans but theyre really not i just dont know what else to call them

OK FIRST OF ALLL. the gods. there are 12 of them, but only 10 are widely known. Creechur got kicked out of God Club™ and is now stuck on another plane of existence unable to be seen by the living. Arcane does not want to be in God Club™ so she just hangs out with mortals. mostly on SOL. also she's called the Unknown so if everyone did know about her it would be a little weird.

the gods did not create the universe, they were just already there. really, the gods haven't made many things, other than Mazgomoth's Endless Dark. they helped certain things along, but they haven't interfered with too much. they mostly like to torment random people, and watch and laugh at mortal's short comings.

they have a set of rules that they don't actually break all that often. its mostly just don't interfere too much and get mortals to do everything for you instead. i guess its to prevent their version of god modding

mortals of Cosmos aren't generally aware of the gods unless they know someone from outside Cosmos (the Endless Dark, Hell, Olvion) or they have met one of the gods.

Citizens of Olvion don't really worship all the gods at once, most of the time they'll pick one or two. on occasion a god will find a mortal theyre fond of for whatever reason and bless them with some ✨powers✨ these people are called Chosen. Chosen can be blessed by multiple gods, but mostly only one or two.

Carrion and Thistle are bless by all of the gods and as a result are super op

mortals don't use any pronouns except it/its for the gods unless they know them really well. like how Alastor uses he/him pronouns for Creechur because he's basically their dad. most mortals also don't know the gods' names and only refer to them with their titles.

heres all the gods with their names and titles:

Mazgomoth, also known as the Monster, is the god of darkness, chaos, and change. it takes the form of a horse (ish..?) with butterfly wings and antennae, an extra set of ears, and a red fox tail. it created the Endless Dark and the Spirits that reside there. Mazgomoth personally creates every single Spirit's soul, mostly using shadow and little pit of light stolen from the Light Barrier. shadows cannot be cast without light. most Spirits worship Mazgomoth and even if they don't they still appreciate it. Chosen include: Synthesis, Sheridan, Shade, Dusk, Raven, Cornix, Etherael

Loom, also known as the Light Barrier (sometimes just shortened to the Barrier) is the god of light, order, and stagnation. he's also called Lampshade by the other gods because it's funny. he takes the form of a fluffy rainbow caterpillar. he is the reason SOL is Like That. he likes getting into fights with Mazgomoth and inconveniencing the other gods. mostly hes just kind of a dick to everyone. Chosen include: Nila, Etherael, Azazel, Lovanna

Kane, aka the Bite, is the god of death and absolute destruction. he takes the form of a rattlesnake. he likes making mortals kill each other. Hell is his domain (despite it originally belonging to Creechur), though he doesn't do much with it. Chosen: Surlmog, Kexiem

Creechur, aka the Scavenger, is the god of life after death. also detritivores. he takes the form of a turkey vulture <3 he got kicked out so now hes moping on another plane of existence, only able to be seen by the undead. he doesnt have a domain or anything but he the mortals he brings back from the dead are called the Undead. there's not many of them so they know him more personally than the average Spirit might know Mazgomoth. he likes hanging out with the Dreamer. Chosen: all of the Undead

Ifer, aka the Creator, is the god of creation, imagination, and creativity! he takes the form of a puppy. he doesnt do much other than marvel at mortal's creativity and making things for himself. Chosen: none

Pyxis and Cyphi, aka the Fears are gods of fear. their sisters and both take the form of black cats. they wish it was Halloween everyday <3 chosen: Briar, Willow, Flame

Terrag, aka the Dreamer, is a god of dreams, sleep, and the mind. he takes the form of a giant tarantula. he's currently asleep but Creechur visits him in the dream world a lot. Terrag likes showing up in random mortal's dreams and riding of them nightmares or just giving them a really really weird dream. chosen: Cornix, Raven, Lazarus

Jack, aka the Eyes, is a god of knowledge. he takes the form of a grey tabby cat with weird eyes. he used to just watch mortals until he realized he could just make other mortals watch other mortals so now he can mess around with the other gods. chosen: Shrike, Lavender, Constantine, Beleth

Arcane, aka the Unknown, is a god of the unknown. she takes the form of a white-backed vulture. she doesnt like being around the other gods because she actually has morals unlike everyone else so instead she spends her time hanging around mortals and helping out where she can. chosen: Venx, Sheridan

Ran, aka the Hunter, is a god of hunting and predator animals. she takes the form of a calico cat with fucked up teeth. shes really really mean and she, like Kane, likes to make make mortals kill each other. chosen: Ragyre, Leshok

Flea, aka the Hunted, is a god of being hunted and prey animals. he takes the form of a grey and black spotted fluffy dog. he likes to pick a random mortal and be their pet for whatever reason. maybe it feels safer to him or something. his current owner is Bog, who thinks hes just a normal dog and named him Tennis Ball. chosen: Bog

#rot.txt #world building #wow that was. a lot #long post #my hand kind of hurts now #im not proof reading this so theres prolly some embarrassing typos in here #uhm. yeah. if you read all of this thanks ily <3

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unohanadaydreams · 4 years

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Okay so thirst ask (do you still do them?). Are we gonna talk about how strong the 'feast on dat pussy all day all night' vibes are with Isshin and Kenny?

I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep SO here we are. also, always ALWAYS do i accept thirst lmao. and we are. we’re absolutely going to clear the air about this!

First of all Isshin! He has a Technique(tm) that he swears by like it’s a family recipe or something. It’s horrible how cocky and cheesy he is about it, but it can’t be said that he’s wrong.

Like, you go home from the bar with him and you almost didn’t do it, but he’s so goofy and open that it was enough to win you over. And you get to his house and the talk starts getting awkward as you both try to feel each other out and decide what’s is or isn’t going to happen. He makes a pretty smooth feel, asking if you were so drunk you needed to crash on the couch, giving you an in or an out.

You’re so not drunk anymore, just tipsy. You’re just feeling the nice loose buzz that pulls a giggle from your mouth where perhaps your sober self would’ve gave an eye roll. No, you assure him. You’d rather sleep on a mattress.

And things are still a bit tense, but the decision is made and he’s getting a little less silly, a little more cocky as you move to kissing on the couch instead of just eye fucking one another.

It’s crazy how enthusiastic he is, how he holds your head between the palm of his hands and gives you the best series of kisses you can remember having while you’re inching into his lap, your hands popping buttons so you can scratch your hands down his hair chest. And he’s so built for his age, still a bit soft around the stomach, but you’re genuinely shocked at the firmness underneath and the build of his arms, not expecting find such athleticism under the loud, awful print of his clothes.

But once you’re in the bedroom, after he’s ushered you up the stairs with his bravado in his skills that you can’t doubt, not after he weakened your knees downstairs, that’s when you know you made the right call to come.

He kisses up your legs as he parts them and the way he makes out with your flesh leading up to your already wet pussy has you doubting you could stand even if you wanted to--which god you dont, you want nothing more than for him to stop teasing you calves and thighs with his skilled mouthing and stubbly face and just move that firm tongue up.

Your wriggling and breathy pleas convince him. He finally kisses your inner thighs goodbye, his parting kiss emphasizes with a firm bite that pulls a cry from slack mouth. And he feasts.

He moves against your pussy, his lip forming nonsense shapes and tongue feeling and searching like he’s kissing your face again. Your fingers barely find their way through his hair before you’re cumming, the combination of his suckling lips and bristly facial hair forcing you to completion faster than you’re used to.

His face is dripping when he looks up, balanced on his arms, and asks if he can go again. If he can do what he’s been fantasizing about since he saw you in the bar and taste your heady juices and feel your gummy insides seize around his tongue over and over and over.

And it’s not like you can really say anything but yes, especially when hes rubbing the side of his face against your thigh, mindlessly kissing your skin, almost pleading. So you do what any woman who’s just discovered god dressed as a loud, silly middle aged man she met in a bar and nod as you push his face back where it belongs.

And Kenpachi?? He doesn’t have a technique. He has determination and primal hunger.

He tells you while he’s spiriting you away on his broad back, something he could effortlessly do with like twenty of his underlings, that it’s been a while, like he has some grand reputation you don’t know about. And you just assure him it’s fine. You’re about to get dicked down by THE Kenpachi Zaraki, after he showed up in the 7th division bar like he was lost. Who knew asking if he needed directions was going to result in a one night stand probably none of your friends would believe?

And when you get to his quarters, you go straight to the bedroom, past an open door with pink everything and you remember. Oh yeah. Oh shit. It probably has been awhile? And you’re feeling a little tender now, getting ready for something softer than you were expecting.

Which is why you let loose a shriek when he lifts you by your ass and pins you against his bedroom wall, immediately attacking your neck with the most intense hickey. You didn’t know hickies could fucking feel like that, didn’t know that someone could suck so hard it felt like needling teeth biting and marking your flesh.

Your clutching at the hard muscle of his shoulders, your hips grinding as the tip of his hard on rubs against your ass cheeks and practically yelling combinations of words and curses that don’t even make sense. You have no idea what you’re yelling.

All you know is that when he lifts his head, a sharp grin on his face, and chuckles deeply, “yeah it’s been a while,” your body starts to shiver under his gaze.

You can’t even get out a response before he’s on you again, this time tearing up your lips with needling sucking and lip splitting bites. Your thighs are clenched around him as tightly as physically possible while the onslaught continues, while he moves you to the bed and gropes hard, like he’s claiming the flesh he’s fisting.

It’s so much. So fucking much. There are definitely tears streaming down the sides of your face as you lie there and take attack after attack, driving you wild. You haven’t ever had this before. Not this viciousness. But you’re fucking melting under him, your skin hot and flushed, all the blood rising to meet your eye-patched maker, seeking his hands and mouth and solid body crowding over you.

It’s when his huge (god, how the fuck is that ever going to fit in you huge) cock, still confined within his hakama grinds between your legs that he pauses. He reaches down to feel his own pants, to feel the wet stain that you put there.

Your clothes were one of the first things to go when he slammed you to the bed and your panties can’t contain your arousal. You can feel your own juices sliding down your thighs, escaping the sides.

He’s smug as he licks at one of your tear tracks. “Too much already?”

You shake your head, “you tired?”

It was a mistake. He laughs like you told a real joke, like you had set up a punchline and kisses you again, his hands clawing your panties up your legs.

“All worn out,” he laughs, one of his forearms pinning your legs to the sides of your chest, pinning your entire body to sink farther than any body was meant to go into a mattress. “Should probably fix that. Should probably eat real fucking good to get my strength back up.”

Oh, it was a mistake. His words force a shiver through your entire body, just like his eyes had before and you realize it all at once. That you’re not some gateway back into the groove of one night stands and fucking.

You’re a meal. He is tired--tired of only having his hand to satisfy him--and you’re his fucking meal. You’re a sacrificial lamb to literal fucking slaughter.

Shivering and buzzing and dizzy from the alcohol and his arm pressing the air from your lungs, his long tongue licking up your pussy, tasting for himself what he’s already smelled, you’re surprised. You didn’t think he meant eating your

He starts to feast in earnest and your back tries to arch, only to be painfully restrained. You’re so loud you’re almost howling as you cum and he doesn’t pause. He doesn’t raise his head and asked if it was good or if you’re ready to return the favor.

He just keeps going, his big calloused fingers rubbing against the walls of your pussy until your moans tell him he’s rubbing the right patch of spongy nerves as he nips at your clit.

You can’t complain, because it feels fucking amazing, your pussy trying to pull his fingers in farther, trying to grip them tighter as your body starts convulse up again in another orgasm.

Mindless and humping up into his face, you’re losing track of time and your breath is almost fast enough to match your heart beat as his tongue slips into your welcoming cunt. His sharp nose is sliding against your clit and you’re drooling as his lips suck against your sensitive flesh, his tongue wriggling in search of your gummy g spot.

The next afternoon, you wake up to him opening the door to his bath room, already showered. He nods at you and you wonder if that’s your cue to go.

Because it’s not fucking happening. You try to stand and your legs are wobbling like you haven’t walked in weeks.

But when he comes back, a couple of simple onigiri settled in his big palm, you thank him and settle back against the pillows.

He stands there and for the first time, seems unsure.

You leap at the chance, at the first opening you’ve had since he wandered into the bar last night.

“So, um,” you say, swallowing seaweed and rice, trying to come up with something other than the horrible cheesy thing you were about to say. “What if I wanted to feed you again?”

He chuckles, husky like he’s talking for the first time that day and shoots back a question for yours. “You wanna do that?”

You take another bite, your cheeks heating because wow, this is all a lot more intimidating and embarrassing sober, now that you realize you’re going to be taking a walk of shame out of THE Kenpachi Zaraki’s quarters.

But.

The thought of last night wasn’t something any other man was going to be able to erase from your mind.

“Yeah.” You pause. “But only if you agree to carry me back to my division.”

And he did. It took a couple hours, where he asked awkwardly pointed questions and seemed to get more turned around the more you laughed and opened up.

But he did.

#isshin kurosaki #kenpachi zaraki #smut #thirst post tower #dude these are so long but i was feeling it #and like kenpachi's turned into like a one shot #wow hope reader and him are living a filthy good life

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tsunflowers · 4 years

Text

for no one’s enjoyment but my own I’ve painstakingly ranked my favorite sentai teams based only on the suits

44. battle fever - I just hate miss america

43. sun vulcan - I have no feelings about sun vulcan

42. goggle v - I dont really like the helmets

41. denjiman - I feel like when people draw generic sentai parodies they end up looking like denjiman

40. turboranger - workable but so basic. nothing stands out to me about turboranger

39. goranger - good start. capes are nice

38. dynaman - this is like the first step to modern sentai

37. maskman - kind of boring but fine. it’s so wack that the women have earrings

36. gingaman - I’ve never liked these tbh. the stripes on the chest look like an ugly sweater. I don’t love the helmets either

35. zyuranger - these are very classic. I like the diamond motif repeating on the gloves and boots

34. ohranger - the helmets are, well. but I love the gold accents especially on the hems of the skirts

33. abaranger - I love abaranger to death but I think the suits are kind of ugly :/ abarekiller rules though

32. gogov - I don’t have much to say about gogov I just think they look good. my favorite part is the respirator appearing when they transform

31. jakq - love the capes and unironically love big one

30. zyuohger - I got used to these but I still don’t love them. I appreciate the idea behind putting a large animal face on the chest but if you were going to also have its eyes light up maybe rethink the position so it doesn’t look like they all have glowing nips. just a thought

29. toqger - they’re cute but very simple. the train track motif on the helmets is excellent but I wish the helmets were a little more different in shape and design

28. changeman - I really like the bodies of the suits but don’t love the helmets

27. jetman - this one was hard to place bc there are some things I LOVE like the wings of the bird on the chest extending into epaulets but I don’t like how kaori and raita don’t match everyone else

26. kakuranger - simple but they work. I wish the white accents were easier to see on tsuruhime but I’m also glad she doesn’t have pink accents lmao. I also wish the helmets were a little more distinctive but I appreciate the commitment to the ninja vibe

25. fiveman - cute! I love the little symbol on the helmets and the way the yellow chest stripe is outlined by a white chest stripe so they don’t have to change colors for yellow. also nice that the women have the same body pattern as the men with no skirts

24. kiramager - I thought these were ugly as shit at first but they grew on me. now I love the white accents on the helmets. kiramai silver is still ugly though

23. magiranger - cute. love the capes. the stripes on the men are a little overwhelming for me but I love the two women. magishine also rules

22. liveman - simple but cute. these really work for me

21. bioman - I love the bioman thigh highs and leotards. legendary

20. gaoranger - the helmets are like just goofy enough that I love them. the band across the chest with the different number of stripes is a cute touch. mostly I’m ranking them this high bc I love the asymmetry of the gaosilver suit

19. hurricaneger - love the helmets. also love that the hurricanes, gourais, and shurikenger all look different enough to be different teams but still like they belong in the same series

18. flashman - cute! the female flashmen are so good and the men are ok

17. timeranger - these slap. the colored visor and the different shaped arrows on the chest are the charm points. timefire is truly the cooler timered

16. megaranger - excellent. I’m a huge fan of the helmets which I think are simple yet classic and I really like the band across the chest with every character’s color

15. carranger - the helmets are cute and all feel distinct despite being car-based. I love the black detailing on the chest, arms, and legs. I feel like it really makes the suit stand out despite having a solid colored body

14. ryusoulger - the helmets are extremely cute and they say “dinosaur knight” 100%. the asymmetry is charming too. I still don’t know why the symbol on their chests is the ryusoul symbol though

13. ninninger - the shuriken helmets fucking rule. even now I can’t decide how I feel about the women having thigh high boots but I like the black arms and the hint of black between the skirt and boots on the women. starninger having a helmet that’s a star and a cowboy hat is legendary also

12. dairanger - love dairanger. the top of the suit looking like a little jacket is so cute. I also love the dairanger logo with all five colors. this might be the first season chronologically where I feel like they really went off with the helmets

11. go-onger - the tires around the wrists and calves are truly inspired as is the seatbelt accessory. what I really love is the little stylized number representing their respective engine partner. the go-on wings fucking rule also

10. gokaiger - they didn’t have to make the gokai suits so good when they transform into other teams every episode but they did that for us

9. gekiranger - love the main three to death, especially the helmets. the kageki powerup is also perfect. violet and chopper I don’t love as much but they look pretty slick and definitely went all out with the martial arts theming so I appreciate them

8. dekaranger - the helmets are good esp how they light up. the stylized numbers on the chests are excellent. and this was our last series where the women don’t have skirts when transformed!

7. kyoryuger - love the helmets. they’re very stylized but still recognizable as dino heads. the little details that differ between characters like silver sashes on spirit rangers and sharp teeth only on carnivorous dinos are charming to me. there are so many dino heads on each kyoryu but they’re so stylized that you might not notice at first and I love that

6. go-busters - can we please have leather style suits again. they look so good helmetless as well as with the helmet on bc they’re almost clothes that people could wear. I can’t explain why but the colored gloves are a key element to me. beet and stag also look suitably different while still part of the team

5. boukenger - I love boukenger! the white stripe up the center of the body is so simple but it really makes them stand out. the helmets having built in headlamps which are actually used in the show is my favorite

4. kyuranger - the kyuranger suits are so good… the helmets are so fun and inventive. I love the subtle silver lines running along the body and the armored crop top. the unique details characters get depending on their species are good too except maybe garu’s fur. but they still look cohesive as a team

3. goseiger - highly cute. the look of belted high waisted pants/skirt really works for me. I love the helmets and how the animal motif is only visible from the side. my favorite is the emblems on the chest corresponding to each tribe which combine to form the goseiger logo

2. shinkenger - legends only!! the triangles along the sides imitating the line of a hakama are a subtle but essential element. the kanji helmets are also perfect. they’re so simple but they don’t need any extra decoration to work

1. lupinranger/patranger - they’re so cute! ever since the suits were first revealed I’ve loved the way the base suits for the lupins and patrens are just colorswapped versions of the same suit. the way the lupins have a bow tie on the chest is super cute and I like the patrens’ corresponding tie look too. the lupins’ helmets especially have personality to them while still clearly being top hats. lupinx and patrenx both rule also. noel hogging all the good suits

#long post under cut

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shadowknight465 · 5 years

Text

Sun and Moon

He went back to the tree safe from harm, or what could be harm in his point of view. Nightmare still doesn't understand where the voices are coming from. He brushed it off thinking it was a result of being alone most of the time. Even though his feet were hurt from walking for a long time; he felt the energy coming back as soon he saw light golden cap with arms hugging two deep blue legs. He then took a deep breath as the dry grass tells his brother that he's here. Dream look up and saw Nightmare. Never knowing what Nightmare had seen before finding him.

As Nightmare sat beside him. Even when his eyes were closed he could easily tell that Dream is confused. Nevertheless Dream spoke to Nightmare. "What do you want?" Nightmare respond it with. "Just to talk." Dream looks down again. Nightmare always tells himself that he isn't gonna lie to his brother, but he feels like he needs to stretched the truth for a bit. Hopefully Dream will learn the truth sooner or later.

"Look, Dream,"

Dream turns his head to face Nightmare again.

"I didn't really mean to flip you." Nightmare then makes a fist to try to give his brother an example. "You see. I'm like a water balloon. I can build so much anger inside of me that I could explode unexpectedly."

Now this is the time to lie

Nightmare thought to himself. "And when you mention your friends, I got so mad and lied to you because you have friends and I don't." He then chuckles to himself while rubbing against his skull. "I guess I should get out of my shell more."

"Oh....Sorry." Dream responded, feeling guilty about something he didn't do. Nightmare thought to himself for second on how to make Dream feel better.

Dream always did say he want to cook with me...

"It's Ok, and you know what? I'll give you a cooking lesson. Would you like that?" He asked patting his brother shoulder.

"OK!" The golden eye light shine brightly. Nightmare smile to himself proudly, as he got up not knowing his brother is confused again. "Alright-y then," He said. "But first let me heal myself."

"Alright, brother."

As soon Dream was out of sight. Nightmare took all the wool out of his sleeves and nearly gasped from the blood loss. He's surprised that he didn't faint at least, that's what he thought. He went to his hiding place where he often use medicine practice on himself and took a piece of cloth and wrap it around his teeth.

Please God stay with me.

He then brew a healing spell in his black cauldron, and dive his arm in it painfully. Trying his best not to scream matter how much it stings his arm. As soon he was done. He catch his breath and look for a book about cooking so he and brother can make gumbo or stew. He grabbed the book that he needed and another dropped. He sigh in annoyance and went to put it back up, but when he read the title, he knows he didn't bought the book. The title read "Peace after Death". It didn't said who wrote it, nor did it had any information in the back. He decided when he has time he can read one or two pages see was all about. He pick up the book and hid it under his shirt, then went back to his brother while picking up some ingredients. Forgetting the mysterious book.

~~~~~

"Ok, Dream. Watch the fire while I get the recipe."

"And whatever you do. Don't touch it." Nightmare ordered sternly. It's wasn't because he doesn't trust Dream, it was because every time Dream is around with fire he always want to touch it, 'to feel the warmth.' His brother said as a excuse. After a brief few seconds. He felt something off.

Dream is being awfully quiet. I'm going to check on him

His suspense quickly turn to fear. He turnaround quickly yelling. "DREAM! DONT!"

"OUCH!"

Nightmare walked up to Dream disappointed.

One thing, he can't do one thing?

He thought.

"What did I tell you about touching the fire?" He demanded.

"Don't?" Dream squeak.

"That's right. And what did you do?" He reminded.

"Touch it..."

Nightmare sigh and went back to his studies to get some bandages for Dream. He felt a little lucky that no one has seen them, not because Nightmare will be in trouble. But because Dream will be accused of being a pyro warlock. If there's anything about him and pyro warlocks have in common is their love of fire. He blames the elders for introducing fire to Dream in the first place. Though he can see his brother being one of those pyro warlocks. Which to him it means he has to clean up all his brother's messes. Fire. One of the most dangerous elements known to so many races. Can be used for creation or distraction. It's also known for cooking meals and to guide the lost. But what's fire without its counterpart, water? The very thing that can heal in shape. To be transform into solid or gas. And to heal if you do it right.

~~~~~~

After Nightmare bandaged up his brother's hand. He sat in the back right beside him.

He thought about his deep thinking earlier and he decided he wanted to share that knowledge with his brother. Just in case.

"Dream, I think it's time to tell you the importance of water and fire." Nightmare turns to face Dream. "So listen closely, understand?" Dream nodded.

"You won't believe this, but both of them need each other like the sun and the moon. Let me explain. When water turns to ice, fire can thaw it out. When fire is out of control, water can calm it down. Although they seem different, they are the same in the way. Water was known to drown, to give life, to turn cold, and to heal. Fire was known to destroy, to bring warmth, to bring to light and to guide. They show us without one there can't be the other, they complete each other. Do you understand Dream?"

Dream nodded. "Of course, Brother."

Nightmare then chuckled for a bit. "You know you remind me of fire."

"Hmm?"

"You are always so bright and energetic." He answered. "Well you remind me of water, you are always so calm and gentle." He responded. Nightmare blush. He's not used to complements, not like his goody two shoes brother. "Thanks, I love you my Little Sun." He said.

" I love you too, Moon." Dream said. Nightmare turn to night sky.

Maybe I can teach Dream a bit of my interest.

He thought. He doesn't want to get lonely on most nights anymore. "Want to learn a bit about astronomy?" He asked.

"Yes, please!" Dream answered happily.

after three whole hours of talking about constellation his brother fell asleep on his lap. Nightmare pull his personal book from his inner rib cage. Hey, he got to protect his personal belongings.

June, 17, 1577

The small group of friends I met yesterday turns out to be traitors when they attack me. As they all beat me up one of them use their magic to make me break my own arm. When i was finished, they all wound up together and nearly blinded me by hitting my eye sockets with a big rock. It later cause me to be aggressive my own brother. However something strange had happened to me while I was trying to look for him. A creature I believed to be a massager for someone said they wants me to be their king of darkness, so I'll be safe from everyone's grasp, I however decline. Because I choose not to be like the people who abuse and manipulated us. Even after he left, I still feel like he's watching me from afar to see if I change my mind. And, a few other voices said they want me to be king. I theorize that if it's from being along for so long. When I finally apologized I told him that we can cook together after I tend my wounds. While I was healing up and planing to cook a meal with my brother, I discovered a book that wasn't mine reading "Peace after Death". It is said who or what is from, nor does it have a symmetry. Which made me wonder is this a gift from God or a temptation from Lucifer?

He then put the book away. And went to sleep. Not long after maybe four or three hours, he saw that he was in an starry night like area. He then look that himself and saw that he changed. Not like a demonic way, but like a spirit. Most of his color palette are shades of pastel bluish-purple. He looked up and saw similar lights from when he blacked out. As he slowly walks towards it, he can hear so many voices telling him to go on until he came to a blinding light. When it finally faded he discovered two beautiful gems. One shaped like the sun and the other shaped like the moon.

"Welcome back, Nightmare."

He looked and so heavenly figures each of them are white with a different color hue surrounding them. While their eyes are the same color of the hue and yet nothing no white or pupils.

Nightmare was so amazed that he can't describe it with words itself. "Is this a dream?" He asked when he finally got his voice back.

"No."

Nightmare suddenly got confuse.

"Heaven?"

"No."

Nightmare took a step backwards. "Hell?"

The leader of them walk towards him against his wishes. "This is a forgotten realm is call The Nerco Empire."

He look at everyone in awe. He never heard of such an empire. Especially a empire for the dead. As he was about to ask why they want him to be their king, he saw a humanoid figure dress in regal garments wielding a scythe pointing at him.

As if nobody paid attention, he heard it deep tone of voice saying. "Come."

He went to the opposite direction as far he could while screaming out for help. However as he got to familiar grounds nobody seems to hear him. When he reached to the tree where he and his brother were resting, he saw himself. He pause for a moment trying to think of an exclamation, then he remember why he was running in the first place. And ran straight to his body.

He jolted up then looked around him to see a sleeping Dream. He sigh and released thinking it was a nightmare, then carry his brother back home.

~~~~

After he sat Dream down on his bed. All bright yellow and some hits of gold and later went to his bed he felt a sharp pain on his back. He brush it off as maybe he was hit on the back and need some rest. When he got back to his own bedroom which is different shades of purple he felt his right hand Burning up. He took a look at it and saw the sun-cut gem.

So it wasn't a dream after all...

He thought. He put it in one of his drawers and head back to bed.

Whatever he went through it'll be over soon right?

#daybreak #nightmare!sans #dream!tale #uncorrupted nightmare #my art

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weissfai-blog1 · 6 years

Text

Love Bites.

AePete AU

"There are no accidental meetings between souls."

Pete is a vampire. AND NO – he is not some sparkling diamond vampire – though whoever look at Pete will say he is a sparkling Prince – but no – Pete is not a twilight vampire nor is he Bram Stroker’s Dracula vampire.

He is a half Noble vampire. His mother is a powerful dragon seeker while his father is a full blooded Noble.

The Nobles are an ancient and powerful race that possess great strength, speed and telepathy as well as various blood related abilities, such as the talent to grant similar powers to others via contracts "of blood and soul". They reside on an island nation, known as Lukedonia, that cannot be detected by human senses. They have guarded humans against predators and the forces of nature as long as they have existed, due to a genetic inability to ignore the slaughter of the weak, helpless humans. Thousands of years ago, they were worshipped as gods by various cultures around the world.

However, the Nobles are nearing extinction due to a scarcity of females to mate with. With their lifemates, male Nobles live emotion-filled colorful lives. Without them, the males fight the madness that causes them to choose between suicide or the thrill of killing humans by draining their blood, becoming soulless vampires in the process.

But he doesn’t apply to these category as he is not a full blood Noble.

Pete is a gentle and way too sweet and shy half Noble that his father deem him unworthy of the gift and vanished him, and because his mother loves Pete so much – they both abandon the life in Lukedonia and travel and after a hundred years of traveling to different countries, they settle to Thailand.

Pete’s mother was born in Thailand. She loves the country, the people, the beauty and the serenity of the land.

Pete and his mother change their surname to fit in with the Thai people and they settle on an old mansion. His mother told him to live like a normal boy and because Pete doesn’t crave blood like ordinary Noble, he is free to go out even on sunlight. As he is also a part Dragon Seeker, he doesn’t turn into ash or die if the sun hits his skin. He is what the others may call Day Walker.

Pete’s mother looks at her son. She worries about Pete as the first to being a half Noble and half Dragon Seeker boy to ever live. Most of the half-breeds die at their 50th years of age. But Pete is nearing his 300 years of age and though he is the same as the Nobles who lost their colour of sight, Pete never changes. He doesn’t crave blood (though she gave him blood via blood bag through blood bank), doesn’t go dark, every night she administer a soul and spirit check on his body but its clean… more like pure. Her son has a purest white soul.

Putch heard about the legendary Noblesse but never given it a thought. For all her life, she knew only of one Noblesse and that person is not half but a full blood Noble.

Putch told Pete to live his life freely. Whoever he chooses, whether it be human or of the same kind, she will support him.

Pete met Ae.

Pete was walking out of his campus when again the pain in his head hits him, the pain and disoriented blurry visions keeps on popping out in his head. He wasn’t aware what’s happening in his surrounding when he heard a shout and someone drag his body and both of him and the other stumble in the ground with a loud impact.

‘Are you driving to hell?! And you! What the hell are you doing not looking where you’re walking?! Are you planning to die?! If you are, choose a place where I’m not there!’

Pete doesn’t understand what’s happening but his heart then begun to hammer and his visions doubled… the ground… its grey… he looks at his surrounding and he was blinded by the burst of colours.

COLOURS!

He can see colours…

But the only time a Noble can see colour is when they find their lifemate through voice or connection.

‘Oi! Are you okay?!’

Pete stumbled once again on the ground and clutch his heart tight.

Its beating crazily and there’s a line.

A magic being woven.

A connection being form.

Pete found himself being raise by the person and for the first time he looks at him.

Pete gasped.

Black obsidian eyes looks at him.

‘Are you okay? You’re bleeding!’

He what?! Impossible!

He looks and yeah, he is bleeding. But why?

That’s their first meeting.

The man who gave him colour and light ~ Ae. A small boy but with sturdy muscular body and a harsh foul mouth.

Ae cannot help but feel lucky and at the same time with the thinking: “Did I ever save the whole country on my past life to have a friend like Pete?”

Each and everyone who knew Ae will know that he is a brute. He doesn’t have any sweet bone in his body, he doesn’t even have a STOP DON’T SAY IT brake on his mouth. He will say what he want to say especially to some idiots who lacks braincells.

Pond calls Ae: “Son of a Beast! He will kick his only best friend and whacks my head if I so much get on his business and be nosy! See this! See this?! That’s his fist! My skull already has a dent in the form of his fist!”

Ping: “The greatest man but has the foulest mouth on the planet. He doesn’t care nor doesn’t give a damn what other people will think. I have never been the receiving end of his fist and kick so I’m happy to say that he is still a friend I can count on.”

Bow: “Tactless beast! He just made someone cry when he flat our rejected her. But that’s what I like about Ae, he never take advantage of people and will always be there to help others.”

Can: “Ae is the bestest of the best man out there! He doesn’t give a damn and will help me even though he doesn’t know me! He is a great bastard buddy!”

Captain of the Football Team: “Ae is our MVP. He may be 174 cm shorty but he can kick those asses good bye! We love Ae in this team. He brings glory to us! Well except when he beat us Sports Science when he is an Engineering Major…”

LadyBoys: “I don’t know how the hell a muscular, sexy abs, yummy muscles belong to that shorty with foul mouth! This is an outrage! He even give me the middle finger when I told him if he wants to spend the night with me! Such barbaric action against me a lady!”

Pete chuckles to the different description of Ae.

For him, Ae is the opposite of what they say and he cant help wander why. Ae is sweet to him. Ae never finds him annoying and he is always pinching his cheeks or ruffling his hair. Ae told him that he likes his hair, soft and silky (well he is a half-Noble so his hair is entirely different from humans)

Ae never rush him when they are eating. Its hard for him to swallow cause he is not used to eating the food Ae gave him, he eats either fruits and drinks blood via blood bags from blood bank. So its really really hard for him to swallow any meat and vegetables.

Ae cares about his safety that Ae will bike all the way to his apartment and drop him off (when all he did was walked, he is a Noble so walking for an hour or so is nothing to him, or he can just jump building to building or well, fly – he is not human after all)

The Engineering Department won the game with Ae’s two points versus Sports Science and instead of joining the seniors and juniors at the party, Ae went to Pete. Pete was alarmed when Ae was at his apartment. Pete looks at the full moon and this is the time that he is very weak and the blood bags are not stored in his freezer where he usually storms them.

He has been feeling weak for the couple of days and the blurry visions and headache keeps on attacking him.

Ae was worried because Pete promise to watch the game only he didn’t show up. Pete never miss a game and he was not answering his line messages as well.

‘Pete, what’s wrong? You’re so pale.’ Ae was scared for Pete. Pete’s skin is milky white with a blush but the Pete before him is pale as ghost.

‘Ae… please go. I’m okay. Please please go.’

‘No! I will be here! Tell me what to do!’

‘Ae please! Go!’

Ae was angry now when Pete seems to be pushing him.

Pete was crying and Ae doesn’t know what to do. Ae tried to hug him but Pete pushed him - a little bit strong that made Ae stumbled and hurt.

‘OH! AE! Im sorry! But please please. I don’t want to hurt you! Please go!’

Pete was scared – he can feel hunger.

He had never felt his way before.

He can smell it… the delicious smell of blood. He clench his teeth and told Ae once again to go.

‘No! I will not go!’

‘Ae please… I don’t want you to hate me… please’

Ae is crying now as well, ‘Please tell me Pete what’s wrong with you?’

‘Ae… I… I- please just go.’

‘No!’

‘Ae!’

Then everything on Pete’s memory become a blur and then darkness.

He doesn’t remember anything.

What he remembers is the sweet taste of blood in his lips.

He woke up and was shock.

He was scared.

‘Ae?’

Everything – his surrounding is full of blood. Dried blood.

‘NO! NO! AE!’

‘What?’

‘Huh?’ Pete looks up and saw Ae running to him. Ae in his shorts and wet hair.

‘Pete are you okay?’

‘Ae?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ae!’

‘Yes! That’s me! I mean yes what?’

‘You-you’re okay… what-what? Blood?’

‘Ah. Well… First of all, Pete this is not my blood. This is the blood from the bag inside your freezer. And well, some of them are your blood.’

‘What happen Ae?’

‘You kinda turn dart vader last night. You push me – well more like – haul me – good thing it was a soft sofa and went to the freezer, you open the blood bag and drink it, but you throw it away saying ‘It taste like rot’ and then you look at me-‘

‘Ae! Oh my! Did I hurt-‘

‘I’m not hurt. I understand what’s happening even though I don’t believe it – but you well, your eyes turned blue and your fangs kinda shows and told me your are so thirsty. I offer you my blood-‘

‘NO!’

‘Well yes, but when you are nearing me, you bite your own arm. And told me to get out.’

‘Then why are you still here?’

‘I can never leave you Pete. You look like your dying. And you were speaking about soul contract or blood contract-‘

‘GOD NO!’

‘Well – I don’t want you to suffer… and I understand that you need blood. I gave it to you freely.’

Pete then put his trembling hands to Ae’s neck, removing the towel, and yes, there it is his bite.

‘Ae! Oh God! I’m so sorry!’

‘Pete don’t be. I agree with it.’

‘No! no! You don’t know what it means-‘

‘It means that you’re going to drink my blood from now on. That my blood is the only blood you’ll ever drink.’

‘Ae why? Why didn’t you leave. I’m a monster Ae. You should have left me…’

‘Pete. We have been fighting last night more than hours – me telling you to drink my blood while you insisting I get out. You even threatened to kiss me and enchant me with your other spell from your mother side and I still stayed.’

‘Why? Why Ae?’

Ae smiled and put his two hands on Pete’s cheek, ‘Because you are not a monster. You are a pure cute vampire. My vampire.’

THIS IS NOT THE END. There will be a proper chapter by chapter story fic. Thank you.

Author’s Note : I was looking for another name for Vampire when I remember about the webtoon that I’ve read years ago (its still on going) it’s a Korean manhwa title: NOBLESSE. I borrowed the title or the race and some places. I just don’t want to say just a vampire.

#love by chance #lbc #aepete #hcs #vampire #noble #weissfai writes

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feel199x · 6 years

Text

✲ミ☁ awaken, my love! ☁ミ✲

god/demi-god!seo changbin, hades!changbin

minho’s god au felix’s god au

masterlist

a/n: finally. a fic where i dont clown changbin.

☆⌒★⌒☆⌒★⌒☆⌒★⌒☆ ☆⌒★⌒☆⌒★⌒☆⌒★⌒☆ ☆⌒★⌒☆⌒★⌒☆⌒★⌒☆

You knew it wasn’t a normal hobby, but it was an important one. On days you weren’t particularly busy, or whenever you had the free time, you walked around cemeteries. You don’t know when this ability had nested itself in your body, or why for that matter, but you weren’t upset about it. Whenever you could, you’d wander cemeteries, looking for graves that had no mementos in them. You avoided the ones that gave you an uneasy feeling, but for the ones that gave completely benevolent vibes, you grew flowers around them. You could grow any type of flower, but the spirit generally had a preference on what they wanted left on the only memory of them that remained in the mortal world. Sometimes though, you would get the occasional spirit that was just happy to feel like they were remembered again, and you would leave a variety of flora- their small personal garden around their tombstones. You never necessarily believed in the occult, or the divine. But at this point in time, you didn’t have a choice. You knew there was something after death, even though you weren’t completely sure what it was.

Today was no different, in terms of routine, but the cemetery you were at was completely unfamiliar to you. As soon as you arrived, you’d already had a dangerous run-in with a spirit that wasn’t too happy with you trying to grow flora around his grave. The general threat of possession and cursing wasn’t exactly new to you, but it was still pretty stressful, especially when all you wanted to do was help them a bit. And after a couple more less than smooth encounters with unruly and downright mischievous spirits, you were surprised, though very happy to see a triplet of dogs come your way. You sat as they grouped around you, all very eager to receive your petting. You checked one of the german shepherd's collar and was surprised to read Cerebus. Actually, all of their dog tags read ‘Cerebus.’ The name sounded familiar, like distant bells ringing, there on your tongue but not quite. It bothered you, it was uncanny. But after receiving a satisfactory amount of petting, they tugged lightly at your shirt, beckoning you to follow them.

The mausoleum they had lead you to, was oozing black smoke from the cracks of the door. And never, never had you felt so compelled, so urged to enter a crypt. One of the shepherds nudged you with his nose, snapping you back to the reality of things as you moved closer and closer to the mausoleum’s opening. But you weren’t scared, you felt a sense of comfort as you pushed the door open. You overestimated the amount of effort needed to open the door, and before you knew it, you were falling. Now, you were scared. Bracing for impact, instead you found yourself in a wheat field, with a river in front of you. And the triplet of dogs was now but one, with three heads clustered together upon one body. Cerberus was still cute though, even if he was a little bigger with sharper teeth. You cleaned yourself off, brushing the snapped wheat crops off of your body and getting up to observe your surroundings.

The first thing, you noted, was that it was loud. Though you couldn’t see anyone, you could feel their energy, hear them. It was a bit overwhelming at first, but it was only a bit more to manage than a large-scale cemetery. It was some sort of hell, you assumed. But it wasn’t exactly how people had described it. The second thing you noticed was the smell, it was a bittersweet type of smell. It was sulfur, most definitely, but with undertones of sweetness- something you immediately identified as flowers. The third thing you noticed, was a boat wading down the river you had fallen in front of. Cerebus nudged you again, and since you figured you had nothing better to do, you approach the canoe.

He waved to you, smiling at you as if he already knew you. Cerebus jumped into the canoe, rocking it slightly, but the elder man helped you ease your way into the boat.

“It’s been a while,” he said smiling cheerfully, “Welcome back. We didn’t know if you would ever be here again.”

You looked quizzically at him and then at Cerberus, as the dog rested his head upon your lap. He just gave you an understanding smile, continuing to row down the river. You pieced together that a lot of this seemed straight out of greek mythology. But where the ferryman, who’s name you were sure you knew but couldn’t remember, was taking you, you had no idea. You pet Cerberus, who wagged his tail happily, and looked over, observing the uncanny valley. You had made your way past the wheat fields, and suddenly it got so, so much louder. You stopped petting to cover your ears, experiencing the shock of sound like when your car’s radio is just a bit too loud when you turn the engine back on. The ferryman laughed, increasing the pace of his rowing.

“It always happens when you’re back after a while.”

Soon, the ferryman stopped rowing and Cerberus jumped backed onto land, wagging his tail happily and jumping around. The ferryman offered you his hand as you met Cerberus ack on dry land.

“Thank you..,” you paused, unsure of what to call him.

“Charon,” he offered, and then added with a wink, “Changbin’s been missing you, you’re all he ever talks about.”

You gave Charon a bewildered look as rowed off into the distance, but followed a very hyper Cerebus into the most beautiful piece of architecture you had ever seen. The outside of what you could only call a palace was beautiful. More than beautiful, breathtaking, out of this world. And the interior was even more detailed, marble statues lining the front, exquisite paintings on the wall. Cerberus grew impatient with your fascination with the interior decorating though, and r an out in front of you, and you ran after your only guide in the place.

“Oh! Cerberus, you’re back!” you heard a voice say, and as you stepped out into the open area, you saw that it belonged to a very young man. He was dressed in all black, and while you’d normally consider someone of his attitude intimidating, all of those thoughts went away as soon as you saw him interact with Cerberus.

When he noticed you though, his face lit up even more, impossibly more. “Persephone? Persephone! You’re back!”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #seo changbin #skz imagines #skz fic #skz fluff #stray kids changbin #skz changbin #changbin fluff #changbin fic #changbin imagine #changbin imagines

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phandomsecretvalentines · 7 years

Text

The Evening Glow

Words: 5k

Genre: Fluff, (very) light angst

Rating: G

Summary: Dan hasn’t had the best luck when it comes to blind dates, so when Louise recommends he date her friend Phil, he’s skeptical. But even when he begins to fall for Phil, he can’t shake his crush for the attractive cashier at ASDA who he knows only as Lester.

Author’s Notes: This fic was written for @dont-tell-them-i-write-phan for phandomsecretvalentines 2018! I tried to incorporate everything you said from my ask, friend! I hope you love it!

Dan snapped the lens cap back on the large camera in a huff. He began the process of packing up, a familiar routine. The delicate balance of the weight on his shoulder so he didn’t drop thousands of dollars of equipment that didn’t belong to him, and the meticulous packing in the padded bags.

“I swear this panda will never be born,” he complained. “What is this, the third time we’ve been out here? And nothing.”

Louise rolled her eyes at him, running her fingers through her hair for the first time all night. It was absolutely forbidden while she was in front of the camera, after all the work the crew puts into hair and makeup.

“Come on, Dan. You know that the first time we were out here it was at the beginning of the story to announce the pregnancy, and last time they really thought the cub was coming!”

“And today?” Dan said, a hollow laugh following quickly as he knew the answer was ridiculous. He also knew that Louise knew.

Dan was just sick of it. His first anniversary at the local news channel had been a couple months ago, and he was still being put on the fluffy stories. It had been six months at least since they promised him better gigs, and they had yet to deliver. He was craving something, more.

“Well, today we had to cover how inexplicably long this panda cub is staying in the mum,” she trailed off, defeated but trying her best to keep in light spirits. “Anyway, you can’t be so pessimistic all the time! So many people would love to be here at the zoo before opening.”

“Name one!” Dan said as the pair shuffled out of the vet center.

“My friend Phil,” she snapped her fingers and pointed at Dan as she realized. “He loves animals, pandas in particular.”

“Oh, not this again!” Dan laughed. The conversation was nearly as familiar as the camera he carries at work every day.

“You’d like him, I swear to you!” Louise quipped. She batted him playfully on the arm, and wrapped a hand around it, shaking him back and forth.

“Louise, the last time you set me up on a blind date, the jerk bailed on me halfway through it!”

“He hadn’t told me his daughter was due to be born any day! What could you expect from the poor man? He had to be there.” They went through their practiced dance. “Besides, that was two months ago, and Phil isn’t expecting a child so no need to worry.”

Truthfully, Dan had been considering getting out in the dating world again. While Louise’s suggestions weren’t always perfect, it would be, well, convenient. He sighed.

“How did you meet this guy again?”

“He was in my uni program! Trust me, you’re just his type. He loves the gloomy, self-loathing thing,” he teased.

“Hey!” Dan nudged her shoulder to shoulder and sent her balance off-kilter. She stumbled around the pavement looking drunk with giddiness and late nights.

“I’m joking with you, of course!” She said. “Listen, just take his number. It doesn’t mean you have to marry him, jeez.”

Dan considered this for a moment. He could refuse Louise again, but though she was sweet, she was also stubborn. He’d never hear the end of it. Or he could take the number and give it a shot. His shoulders slumped with resignation as he pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it over.

Louise gleefully took out her own and copied the number into his, under the name “Phil 🖤”

Dan rolled his eyes as he examined his new contact. Louise pulled him into a soft hug before they parted ways.

“Remember to answer my calls Dan! We need you when this cub finally does make an appearance,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away.

Above the contact screen, Dan could see the time shining 6:15am. The news team called him out earlier than ever before. He reminded himself that this was what paying dues is all about, but somehow that didn’t help his eyes stay open or his brain to work properly. Too late to get back to sleep, he thought.

The dreaded sun was already peeking out from behind the historic buildings of London, spreading oranges and purples across the horizon. Disgusting. He’d need coffee if he was going to make it to the evening broadcast. Lots of coffee.

Dan turned into the nearest ASDA, the desperation overtaking the laziness. The artificial lights were all too bright and unwelcome for six in the morning. He squinted as he walked through the store between aisles of cereal until he finally found a refrigerator full of drinks, a single shelf dedicated to sickly sweet iced coffee in plastic bottles. He stared blankly, deciding between French Vanilla and Mocha.

He wondered which this Phil guy would pick. He had no idea what this man was like. Dan already had his fair share of bad blind dates to look back on. The last time, when he was ditched because his date’s ex-wife went into labor with his child, was not actually the worst of them.

Dan grabbed a bottle without really looking. Mocha it is.

He wanted to date, sure. It’s just that he was over being set up. Dan could get someone on his own; he was sure of it.

As he meandered to the check out line, he glanced up for the first time. The cashier stood quietly, his hand crooked awkwardly in his pocket, his uniform top bunching up behind his wrist.

The man was tall, and slender built. His black hair cut into a fringe that tapered down to just above the edge of his eye. It framed his face well. The color accented just how blue his eyes really were, and Dan took a moment to catch his breath.

He set his drink on the conveyor and watched as it scooted away slowly. Dan followed his gaze up to the cashier’s nametag. It read Lester.

“Is that your real name?” Dan asked. Lester’s face contorted, his eyebrows pulling together in offense. “Not that it’s bad or anything,” he saved himself. As the man’s face relaxed, Dan let a cool smile grace his lips.

“It’s my last name,” he said. “Big mix up. Lives were lost,” Lester said with a grin as he flipped the coffee across the laser scanner.

Dan giggled at that. He was cute, the way he bit his lip gently after such a sarcastic quip. A blush creeped up Dan’s neck. He could do this. He had plenty of experience flirting with attractive men.

“Well then, Mr. Lester,” he said with a wink, “that sounds like quite the disaster. I’m glad you made it.”

Dan watched a blush spread from his new friend’s cheekbones all the way to his nose as he averted his eyes.

“Would you like this in a bag?” Lester asked, reverting to a very professional customer service voice.

“No, thanks,” Dan said, accepting that it was time to leave the poor guy alone.

“Pound fifty,” Lester responded kindly. Dan gave him the cash and a friendly nod before leaving.

“So did you text Phil?” Louise said as she fluffed her hair, to the dismay of the director standing just behind Dan. Dan adjusted the eyepiece and hoisted the camera to his shoulder, checking the angle of the shot.

“No,” he said flatly. He kept his eye focused into the lens.

“Are you going to explain that at all or will I be left hanging?” Louise replied.

“Look,” Dan started, “I just don’t want to text a total stranger, okay? I can do this on my own.”

“Sweetie,” Louise answered, “I know you can do it on your own, but Phil is a great guy! And it’s not like you’re seeing anyone else.” Louise checked her teeth for lipstick in her compact.

“I might be,” he said, scuffing his foot against the pavement. Louise’s eyes magnified.

“Spill!”

“It’s nothing,” Dan brushed it off. “It’s just this really cute guy. He works at an ASDA close by me.”

“Oh, Dan!” Louise’s shoulders slumped. “Be honest, when have you ever gotten a date with a random cashier?”

“Places!” the director called. “We’re on in five!”

Dan shuffled around to perfect the shot.

“I could definitely get a date with this guy,” Dan promised.

“Darling, what do you even know about him?”

“Well, just his name, and where he works. And that he’s so, so cute. And sexy. And funny.”

“You got all of that, huh?” She asked, a smirk on her face.

“Well, no, I only know his last name.” Dan sighed. He knew Louise was right.

“Listen, Phil is amazing. He would be so great for you. He likes Muse, and anime, and video games. He’s really sweet. Just give him a chance.”

“Okay,” Dan said, gesturing to her to step a bit to the right while he looks into the camera again. “I’ll text him tonight.”

“You will?” Louise confirmed. Dan nodded.

“Five,” the director called with her fingers up. “Four. Three.” She continued counting down on her fingers as Dan hit the button the begin the broadcast.

Dan fidgeted with his phone, clicking the home button twice rapidly and closed the Messages app. He reopened it and typed out a quick “hey” and deleted it.

It was stupid. He didn’t need to be nervous. In fact, he didn’t really need to be doing this at all. But at least it would get Louise off his back. He was going to give it a shot.

Hey I got this number from Louise

She wanted me to text you. My name is Dan

He waited only a moment before he saw an ellipsis appear to tell him that Phil was responding.

Hey! Yeah, this is Phil. Louise told me you’d be messaging me sometime. :)

I heard you like Muse too. Lol.

They both shared their experiences at the Muse shows they went to as teens. Dan could feel the tightening of his chest as his phone lit up with another message from Phil. It was familiar and exciting all the same, a feeling he remembered from high school.

Dan flirted unabashedly.

If you were an anime character who would you be

Phil replied.

Kirito all the way. Not really, but a guy can dream, right?

Dan couln’t help but think Phil would be a great Kirito, despite how little he knew about him.

Can I be your Asuna

But like without the breasts

The response came quickly.

You can be my Asuna even if you’ve got the breasts. I don’t judge.

Dan bit his lower lip. It was an instant connection with Phil. He didn’t want to put his cell down.

So Louise says you were in the same uni program

What do you do

He rubbed the edge of his phone as he waited, eager to learn more about this man.

I’m trying to break into the radio business. Maybe as a DJ.

But it’s tough.

He smiled.

I believe in you… and we all know that a strangers faith is the most reliable right

Hours later, he fell asleep feeling dizzy and light. This Phil guy was something, he’d give Louise that much.

By the time he walked into ASDA the next morning, Phil was still on his mind. They texted for hours, yet somehow he still felt like Dan’s mystery man. Sure, he knew his favorite song, and he knew all of his anime senpais, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing out on something important. Something good.

He put the same coffee on the conveyor belt as last time, only in that moment realizing that he’d walked right into Lester’s aisle again.

“Oh, Mr. Lester,” Dan teased. “Fancy seeing you here again.” He enjoyed how the man held a chuckle back from his soft lips, a pale pink just barely off his fair skin tone, but they complimented it well.

“I work here,” he said, and Dan watched his lips form every beautiful word, pull up into a more genuine smile.

If Dan were being honest with himself, he wanted to pursue whatever he could with this Lester. He enjoyed his little mannerisms. The way he caught his tongue between his teeth when he laughed made Dan’s heart flutter.

He scanned the bottle, clicking the keyboard of the computer to his side.

“Pound fifty,” he said. “Those are gross, by the way. It’s like the worst coffee in the world.”

“Well maybe you’ll have to show me better coffee sometime,” Dan said without thinking. Lester froze, his eyes growing wide and Dan hated himself for a split second. He made it weird. “Or maybe not, whatever.” Dan tried to smooth it over. He didn’t even know if Lester liked men.

“Perhaps,” Lester said. His long slim fingers carded through his hair, pulling his fringe up into a slight quiff, but Dan only found it more attractive on him.

He thought it best to leave it at that for the day. After all, Dan knew Louise was right. He didn’t know anything real about Lester. Maybe his quirks were cute, but he wasn’t vetted. Maybe Phil was a safer bet.

He paid graciously and muttered a polite goodbye. As he walked out of the store, Dan cringed at the thought of choosing the safer option for the sake of it. It wasn’t that, not really. He liked Phil, that much was clear. He really liked Phil.

He told Louise as much as they walked to the Underground after their broadcast across the city later that day.

“So, how did it go?” she said with a teasing wiggle in her voice that matched her squirming eyebrows.

“I think it went really well, actually,” Dan said as he slid his hands into his pockets. His pace slowed as he thought of their last conversation.

“I knew it!” she cheered, her hands clapping quickly and she hopped a bit. “When’s the wedding?”

“Oh, shut up,” Dan nudged her with his elbow. “It’s not like that. He’s just, really cool.”

Dan couldn’t help the blush on his cheeks, so he angled his face to the ground.

“I’m kidding with you, you know that.” Louise picked his face up by the chin until she could see the redness spreading further. “I’m so glad you like him, dear.”

“I looked him up on Twitter,” he admit, “but he doesn’t have any pictures of himself.”

The two made their way down the steps into the tunnels below to wait for their respective trains.

“Ah, yeah. Phil is very self conscious,” Louise explained.

“Really?” Dan asked, surprised. “But he was in your program in uni? Wasn’t that broadcasting?”

“Yes, and then he went over to radio,” Louise shot him a look, as if that should explain everything. It didn’t. “He’s not the most confident of guys, with his looks. Used to dream of being a weatherman, but he just couldn’t get comfortable in front of the camera.”

They stopped in front of a platform. Louise double checked the light up sign that read the arrival time of the next train.

“Is he like,” Dan thought of the best way to ask without offending Phil, “not conventionally attractive?”

“Oh, he’s attractive,” Louise answered easily. “He just doesn’t see it himself.”

“I wish I could see him,” Dan said, his voice dropping low.

“Then ask him out on a date!” Louise responded. Her perky voice made it all seem so easy.

“Maybe soon,” Dan said. He hadn’t even gotten him on the phone yet. He wanted to talk with him, hear the tone in his voice as they flirted. He wanted some kind of human experience that wasn’t just text.

Louise kissed Dan on the cheek when the train came flying by them. Dan watched her step over the gap and she called back to him.

“Do what you’ve gotta do,” and she waved.

Dan moved to grab his phone as he walked to his area of the Underground, waiting for the train that would take him home.

Hey I was thinking about you today

How have you been

A few minutes later, Phil’s name lit up his lock screen.

I’ve been well! I saw a cute dog today.

Dan giggled. Phil was the type, it seemed, that got joy from the littlest things. He thought about how nice that would be, to have someone in his life like that.

Can I call you

Dan knew Phil had seen the message. He waited for the ellipsis to appear, but it didn’t. He stepped onto his platform. Dan tried to ignore the tightness in his chest as he waited for his phone to buzz.

A few minutes later the vibrations tickled against his leg.

I would, but I’m just-

I’m really shy.

Dan answered immediately.

I like shy

His hands flew to his hair and he swirled his fingers through the curls. He did like shy guys. He bit his lower lip expectantly. His mind wandered, imagining what Phil looked like with a flush of coyness up his neck.

Yet, when he thought of demure boys, all he could really think about was how Lester sticks his tongue between his teeth to hold back his laugh.

But okay no phone calls yet

When will I get to meet you

Dan arrived at his stop and began his walk to his flat.

Eventually. :p

Despite his eyes being glued to his phone, he could feel them drooping. He held his phone to his chest as he fell asleep.

When he awoke in the morning, all Dan could think about was blue eyes.

It was driving him insane, if Dan were being honest with himself. He liked Phil, so much. When they texted it felt like the whole world melted away. But Dan couldn’t shake this crush on Lester, his mysterious ASDA man.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. Way too late to not have a reason to be up, but he had a feeling that he had to go buy a coffee. This infatuation wasn’t going away until he truly acted on it.

It’s not like he and Phil were exclusive or anything, he reasoned. In fact, they haven’t even explicitly stated their relationship was a romantic one.

Dan knew that logic wouldn’t hold up. It was a technicality at best. He shook the conflict from his mind as he pulled his black skinny jeans over his legs and a grey color blocked jumper over his head. The door behind him slammed shut as he barrelled out onto the pavement and down the street.

Car sped past him in the road and Dan barely stopped to look both ways before running across it. The morning light was still golden, blinding him as he turned the corner to walk the ten blocks to the grocery store.

Dan could feel his pounding heart. Exercise was never his strong suit, but he couldn’t stop. If he stopped jogging, he may have time to rethink his actions, and he didn’t want to do that.

As the automatic doors parted before him like the Red Sea, Dan felt anything but magical. A tall pale figure with dark hair was stepping into a separate room at the back of the store, seeming to pull his smock over his head.

“Lester!” Dan called from the entrance. “Wait!”

He summoned what little energy he had left and speed-walked to where Lester stood.

“Yeah?” Lester asked, his eyes skimming up and down Dan’s body, assessing the situation. He seemed bewildered, but not unhappy to see him.

“I was wondering if you wanted to show me some better coffee?” Dan asked, less than dignified.

It was out there now, he’d asked for the date, and now he felt unsteady, as if he stood on a tightrope and Lester was at the other end, with the power to reach for his hand or shake the rope.

“Oh, ummm,” Lester said. His hand flew to the back of his neck, rubbing some tension out of it. “It’s just that-”

“Oh no, you’re not,” Dan interrupted. He was falling.

“No!” Lester corrected. “It’s not that. I do like men, and I do think you’re attractive, but,” Lester said as he dropped his hand to his side and lowered his eyes to meet Dan’s, “I’m sort of, speaking to someone right now. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

Lester’s hands made their way to his pockets and he slid them inside. The guilty look on his face may have been cute if Dan wasn’t felt embarrassed as hell.

“That’s alright,” he said. “It’s fine, it’s good.” Dan stood still, hoping to turn the conversation around somehow, regain some pride.

“I’m really sorry,” Lester said as he pulled at his smock again. There was a tinge of regret in his voice, and sadness. “I was just about to head out, maybe I’ll see you around though.”

“Yeah,” Dan said and Lester entered the employee lounge and shut the door behind him.

Dan left the store, feeling awkward leaving without buying anything. He dialed Louise immediately.

“Hello?” she answered happily. “Dan, you never call!”

“I asked him out,” Dan nearly shouted. He fast-walked down the road without a clear destination.

“Phil? That’s great sweetheart!” Louise cheered.

“Not Phil, the guy from ASDA,” he said. Shame now wracked his own voice.

“Dan, no! I thought you were going to ask Phil out!” Louise prodded.

The day was too bright outside. It was stifling. Dan narrowed his eyes against the sunlight.

“I was going to, he didn’t want me to call him. And today all I could think about was my crush on the grocery man.” He tried to justify his decision, mostly to himself. “I knew that I could never move forward with Phil if this guy was in my head all the time.”

“So what happened then, love?” Her voice was more gentle.

“He turned me down, Louise. And now I just feel so shitty. He’s seeing someone else. Not a big deal, I’ve been rejected before. But how could I have done that to Phil? He’s-” Dan paused to think of the best way to describe Phil. How could he explain all the emotions he was going through, over simple text messages? “He’s amazing.”

“Dan, you haven’t even been on a date with Phil! He’s an understanding guy. Just call him, tell him what happened.”

Dan hailed a taxi, still not sure exactly where he wanted to go, but knowing that he wanted to get away.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me on the phone,” he responded. The driver asked for an address and Dan just asked him to be taken to the London Eye.

“Just call him! He likes you, he won’t refuse your call.”

Louise was making sense. Buildings and cars were flying across Dan’s line of vision and he already regret getting into a car. It just made everything feel like it was going faster. He was panicking.

He politely let Louise off the line and dialed Phil.

“Dan?” he heard on the other line. His voice almost sounded familiar, he liked it.

“Phil! I’m so glad you answered.” He said without giving Phil much time to speak. “Listen, I have to tell you something.”

“Oh, go ahead.” He sounded concerned.

“I sort of asked someone out this morning,” Dan rambled on. “I’m sorry. I’m going to sound so rude right now, I just really feel like I can tell you anything. Anyway, I’ve had this crush on this guy from my ASDA. And I couldn’t help but ask him out this morning. I feel so stupid.”

“Dan,” was all Phil said. There was a catch in his voice. He’s hurt, Dan figured. He smacked himself in the forehead.

“I’m really sorry, Phil. I just… I really like you, and I couldn’t move forward with you without some sort of closer with him. He turned me down, so I got that. But now,” Dan took a moment of pause to check his phone, which buzzed at his ear. Louise was calling. He ignored it. “Now I just want to give this a chance for us, and I couldn’t do that without telling you about it. I couldn’t lie.”

He heard a faint giggle through the line. Dan thought it might sound empty, a facade.

“It’s fine, Dan,” Phil said, before, “Oh! Louise is calling me.”

“No, please, just don’t hang up the phone yet. Can I meet you? I really want to meet you, in person.”

Dan felt strange. He wasn’t used to pleading. The cab stopped on the side of the street near the Ferris Wheel.

“I guess you’ll meet me very soon,” Phil said, a clear smile in his voice which only confused Dan further. “Louise just texted me. The baby panda is being born! I’m going to meet you both there!”

Phil was eager about the panda. Dan could almost see the way he would dance around in excitement. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he must be angry.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Dan said to the driver, “but can you bring me to the London Zoo instead?”

It all happened so quickly. Half an hour later, Dan had finished broadcasting about the birth of a healthy new panda cub.

The mother was licking the cub on the back, cleaning it up while the vets looked over it. They had an exclusive view as press. He wrung his hands together as he anxiously waited for Phil to arrive.

“Don’t be so nervous! He’s going to love you,” Louise reassured him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Dan turned to face her, leaning against the railing that protects the panda enclosure. His elbows resting on the bar casually, he could feel the ache of pressure against his bones and the cold metal on his skin.

Across the vet center, the double doors swung open and he saw someone enter. He’d recognize that face anywhere, it was Lester.

“Fuck!” Dan said beneath his breath. “How did he find me?”

“What?” Louise asked, looking around. “Who ‘found’ you?”

“It’s the ASDA guy. How did he know I’d be here?” Dan wondered. He faced into the pandas again, hiding his face. “He can’t be here, not when I’m supposed to be meeting Phil.”

“Sweetie, that is Phil. Who are you talking about?” Louise waved the man over.

Dan stared at Louise’s face in astonishment. She gave him a hug when he reached them.

“Dan, Phil. Phil, Dan,” she said. Phil’s face turned red and he rubbed the back of his head.

“Hey,” was all he said.

Dan’s head was spinning.

“You’re?” Dan said, dumbfounded.

“Phil,” he said, extending his hand forward. Dan met it with his own and their skin finally met. It was warm, and the electricity in his nerves moved in waves from his hands all over his body. “Phil Lester, actually.”

“This whole time,” Dan said, tone flat, not sure if he was asking or stating.

“I only just found out,” Phil . “When we were on the phone.”

Dan brushed his explanation aside, in favor of leaning in the place a wistful kiss to his lips.

They moved together, with Phil sinking into it despite his nerves. He was shy, after all. But with Dan taking the first step, he felt free enough to lace his fingers through Dan’s curly hair. The short buzzed sides lightly scratching his palm as he ran it up and down to get Dan closer.

When they broke apart, Dan spoke first.

“Can you stay here with me?” the vulnerability peppering his tone.

“You mean like a date?” Phil said, and he bit his bottom lip in the way Dan always adored, back when he was simply Lester. Dan nodded his head furiously.

“Of course!” Phil enthused. “Who says no to a zoo date?”

“I don’t know,” Dan reasoned. “Someone who doesn’t like the person who’s asked them?”

Phil ran his hand down the outside of Dan’s arm, an innocent enough gesture, but meaningful all the same.

“I like you,” he said.

“Wait, Dan said. “It thought you were in radio? But you work at ASDA!”

Phil laughed.

“I’m breaking into it! Give me time.” Dan shook his head, taking in the absurdity of it all.

Dan and Phil spent the rest of the day at the zoo. When they were finally kicked out of the panda enclosure, they spent over an hour with the llamas, two with the lions, and made sure to hit every exhibit in between.

Dan watched every mannerism Phil made, soaking in the way his hand crooked in his pocket when he was idling, and the way he bobbed his head when he was happy. He noticed how he used all fingers to gesture air quotations and Dan had to catch his breath.

How could he be so lucky.

When Dan finally felt the adventure of the day wearing down on him, and his eyes began closing slower and slower, they made their way to the exit.

The sun was setting in front of them, and Dan reached to pull Phil’s hand into his own.

“I’m really sorry that I asked you out. Well, Lester out, when I was already texting you,” he said, the remorse still weighing on his shoulders.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, for asking me out,” Phil replied.

“But you showed some loyalty in turning me down,” Dan said regretfully.

“Okay,” Phil said. “But then can I say I’m sorry for turning you down, just because I was already talking to you?”

“That’s silly,” Dan said. He felt Phil kiss the side of his head as they looked out at the sunset.

“Exactly,” Phil answered, and squeezed his hand tighter.

They both looked out over the horizon, and how the oranges faded to pinks, and purple, and black. The evening glow warmed their bodies. The day had set, but it felt like a beginning.

#submission

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askbirdnerdsparrow · 7 years

Text

Hey, Mun here, with a cool thing imma let y’all do.

If you want to, on any of my blogs, you can ask a question as one of my other muses, if you want, or even RP them, as long as it’s with one of mine (which will be tagged and listed below, along with a list of what I won’t be comfortable about)

I’m doing this so you can get further into the story and interactions of my characters!

Blogs, muses & their do’s and don’t’s (things I’ll permit and things I won’t)

Do:

Gore/violence

IMPLIED sexual stuff, as long as it’s not incest or Pedophilia

((I mean Jason’s a shitty dude but pedos are at the bottom of the food chain in jail and he doesn’t want that if he gets caught. 16 is the age of consent in Ohio, which is where the story takes place, but I mean Mun is also a minor and sex repulsed so keep it at hints and nothing explicit. Plus incest and/or pedophilia is gross and wrong and makes the Mun uncomfortable, if pedophilia is brought up as a good thing I will block you, whether through IP or Blog.))

Abuse (keep it tagged, PLEASE)

Angst/Fluff/Whatever

DONT:

18+ stuff (Mun is a minor, so please don’t. Implied is okay, though, as long as it’s only hinted at and not explicitly written.)

Slurs (discomfort thing and common courtesy.)

Incest/Pedophilia (as stated before)

((If these are pushed, you will be blocked.))

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

MUSES WITH BLOGS

@askbirdnerdsparrow

@askbirdofparadise

@askbloodyseductionjason

@askthecalamitycircus (list of muses on the blog)

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

MUSES WITHOUT BLOGS

Thomas Katz (twins’ father)

Robin Katz (twin’s mother (ghost/spirit interaction))

Honey (Tiffany’s best friend who’s obsessed with Paradise, a little bratty and pushy but sweet) (originally belonged to my friend BrokenMango who woNT TAKE HER BACK >:(( so I guess she’s mine now)

Tiffany (total bitch. Sparrow’s last girlfriend before he decided guys were better)

Bradly (Sparrow’s first boyfriend after Tiffany. Total bitch, 2.0, but they’re on decent terms right now and attempting friendship again.)

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

PET MUSES

Pluto (Cockatiel who likes screeching and the taste of human faces.)

Muffin (5 month old teacup Pom who likes teething on anything she can find)

Ace (Jason and Sparrow’s German Shepherd/Husky mix. Lovely and pure, but loud)

Junjou (hairless cat. Sweetheart but prissy and bites when she’s upset.

#painfully ooc

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 5 years

Text

Sometimes my brother stays in the house all night. And annoys my kid.

But after tonight i see why.

He had to register his hands as militant weapons. He said militant. lol.

He was in karate all through elementary minus some years and some high school.

He knocked me out with two fingers once then started crying cause he thought I was dead. My mom didn't care. She told him good job.

My little brother paralyzed my arm once by jabbing it. That shit hurt. It was temporary but my arm was sore for days.

So obviously neither are afraid. They have skills,i always believed out powered my own.

I woke my brother up to open a jar but he couldn't either so soon after he went to his home. He said for some,reason no one was outside.

He knows Jesse i know he does cause we used to work the same gas station. Jesse and Stewie are the same but I call him stewie after the Family Guy baby cause he always tries to kill his mom.

He went to ministry school for college and has all kinds of degrees in philosophy and church and all that.

Anyways stewie got a job with my brother at nights and my brother got him fired.

I got him banned but our boss was a bitch thinking about her pussy.

Anyways. So he gets those feels when,there is dumb asses thinking they got a brain.

Me and my kid do too but its different. We don't live by them.

Usually she comes out for a little while with me but she said tonihht she had a feeling she djdnt want,to.

But I know at home,she gets them. Because one of us will sleep,at different times and one of us is always awake.

Thats whn i knpw some type monster you wish only lived under beds has been outside,

I dont say anything. But I think we both know.

.....

I went out again, this time with the light off and smoked. 4th cigar later and my sinus feel great!!

....

I could hear joints pop. Starchy grass being stepped on. And a chain.

I could feel a vehicle's presence. One with people in it.

.....

I heard the truck start drive slowly up,the north mesa. I could hear for so long i knew they were stopped.

...

Random dogs had barked. First in the yard then one 3 acres away. Then in the yard again.

I listened to how many birds chirped and how.

....

I knew someone was there when i moved my foot there was another sound... When you concentrate on doing something and you focus on it... I didn't hear the sound until i had already focused to move..its a random thing but always valid. If i move my foot someone else is moving theirs.

Its a constant.

......

I said shhh to the dogs. I whispered a loud hey that echoed to the weakling that couldn't stand still on the other side of the fence.

No one appropriately responded.

.....

I heard the there's a mother fucker there bark.

....

So i went in and as soon as I did that coward ass took off running to his waiting truck.

.....

I unfortunately can feel people's emotions. So i felt him being terrified. I also felt his chest heaving after running when i went in.

I feel his backward heart hurt the last two nights.

.....

#fbi he wants to kill me but he doesn't know how. Hes wanted to for 20 years after he believed jesse James killed my kids. That's why other people call him Jesse. Ive admitted to be fuddled about certsin things and barely have a glimpse of things. He had me,take an abundance of pills once to over dose. Right after the babies were murdered by their grandpa.

And hes tried to kill me and Annie multiple times.

The only person he has a right to kill is himself or anyone that is trying to kill him -- except when he decided to kill them first. Like me. Because I will kill him.

But if someone like wanted to mug him and had a gun then its okay to defend yourself as best as you can. The goal being to get them away from you and disarmed if possible. But not always death is the answer dependin on who it is.

.....

And since he collaborates with Denise, she focuses him on killing me. So he has a right to kill her to shut her up. Becsuse this is an extreme 20 plus year issue. Its not an issue for every one. Its not always the answer.

But in this case it is.

......

Stewart often has someone drop him off where i am,then he walks where I can see him. Then he has them pick him up.

Lately I've honked at him and given him the bird. Just so he knows i see him and i still hate him and i will kill him.

Denise was driving today so i couldn't but i yelled my hate at him,anyways.

.....

Weird was when i got,to the gas station there was a black girl in the back seat of a red SUV with huge eyes like she was a victim of human trafficking. But I always see cops there. And all the Windows were down. IDK why people look like that. Last,time they were worrief about my tire. Windows were down some,dude was outside smoking. She could had screamed. She seemed to be the only one there,

Just a random thing.

------

I was really worried about him going through the,gate. Because they wantef me to sit where I was safe and could see through the fence. But i was super close to the gate and i could hear him within the outer fence. Theres like 4 fences and shit... So he was within the half yard where I was but outside of,the porch fence.

So trespassing. New Mexico law is i can fight back with an equal or lesser weapon. Since he uses needles... And I'm handicapped. I can use a broom, chair, table. Pretty much anything i want but a gun. I could use a knife cause they're close to needles. He uses insulin so a big butcher knife.. Since I'm diabetic ... Insulin won't bother me much but he does use extremely high doses which would cause me to pass out. So then i would be able to equalize that with a stun gun which i have, pepper spray which i have. And blood loss from a butcher knife will cause him to pass out.

Now here I'm not suppose to equalize his crime and kidnap him.

But since I know he wants to kill me, has kidnapped me, etc....

They asked me what i would say if he ends up missing.

I don't care. That was my answer. I don't fucking care. Ive been complaining about him for years.

He tried to kill me and my daughter Annie. Hes constantly harassing us. He follows us. There's records.

If i go through the trouble of disposing him. Dude. They already fucking know where he is. They fucking watch me. They can push rewind on the dam satellite,

So seriously. I go through the trouble of disposing him myself or with my family don't fucking say shit but thank you snd pay me a reward.

Call me,crazy but im fucking telling you. So PREVENT IT.

Or don't bother arresting me or asking where is currently 50 extra pound ass is.

Lets not play dumb, here. Get someone smarter than you if you don't understand, #FBI

Self defense. Hes a threat and has been. Hrs fucking crazier than me,

We all know i can go sociopath, psychopath, serial killer. I can do them all all day any day.

Yes he is crazier than me because he can't go sane.

And despite me sounding crazy. I am actually sane.

......

So. He is terrified of me. He asked me about a year ago to let him help me load my groceries on the black tread at the store. He was shaking like a leaf. I was PISSED because he came up behind me and squeezed next to me,to,get in front of me.

They're all he doesn't have his black bag!!!!! He wears a fanny pack to carry his insulin.

THATS WHAT I DONT GET.

hes scared yet he wants to kill me????

What the Hell. Stay away from me.

Then he will sit where he knows i should be able to see him and he eats candy and smiles all big showing his teeth like he just ate out some ones ass..

Telling me hes gonna have to have his needles out soon.

........

But they tell me he doesnt have his bag.

.....

He will and has tucked them under his dick on his nut sack. And pulled it out in front of me and my child.

.......

I will fucking kill him before he can get his stupid hands in his pants,

I do not fucking care.

Hes lucky i don't have a gun. Because h3 would already be dead.

That's why i don't have a gun.

I almost got one a few years ago.....

But i don't want to go to jail. So if he is close enough for me,to,touch on private property not belonging to him.

Hes a dead man.

........

Anyways so i was concerned for him to go thru the gate because I wasn't feeling the kill rage. So i felt like i wasn't ready so i was weary.

And i kept on although everything else was telling me,he wasn't but to my right,

So my left ear started buzzing like crazy and i was all fucking shut up i can't hear..

But duh. I didn't need to listen at the gate.

So god was there talking to me. Telling me he was there and ready to help me as i need.

To help me as i need.

Once i got the understanding then the buzzing quit.

And I knew to focus my ears to my right.

....

I wasn't alone and,had a lot of support and understanding from a legend. She was really awesome in being curious and understanding. It was pretty awesome. She has a clear and strong voice. I bet she will be a guardian angel one day and i know she will be awesome at it. I was starting to wonder if she was dead because she was so good.

She's not but yeah i was like whoa. I could trust her. Its unusual.

Just because she was awesome doesn't mean she's near death, its just an Earth skill.

I trust the dead most because they can go anywhere even under water.

And i felt i could trust her just as much as a spirit sent from Heaven.

.....

I can hear stewart again.

......

0 notes

hopelesslyheadoverheelsinhate · 6 years

Text

Bummed; bemused

Confused, bitter. A bit amused; jitters

Somethin ain't workin

Well, other than me

Of course a porpoise you see

The horse as they flee unfortunately

It just couldnt be

And thus i sit in this pit of despair i dont care i lost all my hair from the stress its depressing second guessing each thing that ive done its not fun any longer the darkness grows stronger despite all i longed for i broke out in song more than i ever had call me clever or mad just severed and sad

You may be thinking "a fad or a phase"

Poor guys been drinking unblinking for days

Its been weeks even months now since i started sinking

Deeper no sleep er nutritions ignored

Stare thru the peep hole a creep now deplored

Declare on a dare with yourself, 'im not crazy!'

Prayer wont undo this affair - you dont faze me

Memory ceased to serve so effectively

Remembering little ive lost my perspective

On life all this strife man its taken its toll

Tried to stay on top but i lost conrol ill admit its my fault that it all went to shit or perhaps my relapse but ive known whats in store just garbage and carnage with little else more im glad i was shot down eventually versus playing a clown perpetually

Infected by passion precedes lack thereof

Defected to dark, there's no light, where's the love?

Flashing above me beyond my domain

Crashing so swiftly here i must remain

Thrashing about is the vessel no pain

Gnashing of teeth force of evil insane

Belief in abhorrent sin grief is a torrent a thief without warrant suspended unending resplendently sending hostile voices cost of choices made debts must be paid and bets justly played through yet

Splayed out, resolute in one thing let loose a

Dismayed shout this dispute my words quite profuse

Despite whats been heard the lines since been blurred grin slight mines convincingly grim slurred speaking fright shines within wince when dim light blinds third eye tweaking might stir up a fight if we're dressed to the nines meekly protest lest they seem confined please describe what you deem inscribe a dream defined explicitly anger implicit but steadily growing dread showing apparent where i went sent readily molten lead glowing this head is transparent my arrogance flowing suspense quickly shows fence bricks are thrown straight towards the unknown hold the phone truth be told alone sleuthing for gold in my youth i was bold now prone to psychotic outbreaks episodic bouts with mania take a toll cant explain those delusions insane cant maintain this illusion drawn conclusions gone found to be wrong i dont want to belong im a

Three pronged two sided double barrel laser guided

Rocket inside the cockpit pride locket id cock it why mock shit hide the docket in pocket astride this

Ancient creature unchained once restrained its

Enchanting features explained not contained to the

Untrained eye its mundane the disdain ive observed

Suns waning glare staring past pain if evil you serve

One's demons internally vie for control over thought

Spun seemingly eternal won the soul filled with rot

Less than thrilled doomed infernal damnation spilled blood spirits loom near this tomb engulfing gloom fear in bloom clear the room spear her womb

When I was first asked, well my answer was no

Give in don the mask sell your chance sign below

Unforgiven facade displays a swell stance we know

Living hell awaits those deferred chosen selfishly so

Misfortune creates a closely disproportionate dose over weighed underplayed this lowkey OD gradually taking hold bodys shaking as they bring my dying shell seperates the physical from the underlying quizzically intrinsic mental state its just a rental wait and please be gentle

Rise above towards the pearly gate while you can

Despise love that reward was surely late still we ran

Disclose your desires, Speak. Softly in my ear

Bliss froze the fires once rose higher, inspiring dear

Tiring near the end each cylinder precisely firing in sequence haunts frequent beseeching instilled her far reaching delinquent taunts derisive inflection divisive incision adult supervision required youre fired rescind the position

#tweakerpoetry

0 notes

jayundergod-blog · 6 years

Text

Ultimate fear to me.

Say ive smoked some marijuana and im those thinker type when i smoke the chiba. Well suddenly im surrounded by only those bearing tone of demons prophane barbaroc behaviors. I dobt want to go to hell, and this fleshed out before my eyes is the nature of my worst fear. I am not only God Fearing, but damn nervous because Ive nearly awakened what I call the real me, an innervoice guiding. And i have begun eliminating distraction. I have cleared my thoughts and sight of many distractions. And have started to have a certain space for any almost all items under my use amd home. One thing that adds to another frustratoon os not remembering drawers or table or nooks random/common items did put that buisness card? Or it could just be a real pressue on moment and those 3 like mechanical reaches with your hands and ready to go in 5 seconds. I am comparing this new day 1 moment for me to Change from within. In order to make positive impact on future sitiations and various choices given, I have to jump way out of familiarity. I dont know how to make a friend where drugs and alcohol arent at least in the introductio. Its been over 20 years outside of my sponsor in an AA run since I have made any friends outaide of Getwasted Land. And its alnost like some of these people down here might be animated workers of a divine purpose. . Another reason my greatest fear revolves around Hell is Part A: my consistence in screwing up my life and Part B: randomly manipulating in or believing the reason for myaelf that My heart is attatched the right way, I believe God intended to place a mountain of pain shame and addiction and pride, occourances 1 after another saying put down the beer weed dream. Its not working. Test? bad test? CRASH collisions. wrecks.. Sexual imoralities that put me in only tighter, I like to think of as an irrational coat of shame. Switching schools over 20 times social bonding just seemed to naturally wade into the wastelabds. It was cool to say **** things, skip class and sneak a J. So still part B: reason for my greatest fear sometimes i worry my desire to fight evil with fire kind of mentality of a grey angel badass has to often and with any levels of sincerity been ... non supportive of God, and a compmete self failure. I am a highly successful failure. The tides of life had been decided to ensure have a livable income for life. All my lab blood tests come back good. Inspite of ludacrouis unprotected promiscuity and abusing chemicals alcohol included at very high danger quantities and lengths of time. To paranoid to bruah my teeth, and involved with the addict community they really do mess with my toothbrush when i let them know they can not live in my spare room area or you've got to go period. So the balance of pride and shame are big with me. Im simply putting it this way. I am very smart. Like, words don't automatically limit my perception and i discover ideas, inventions, ways to improve systems namely in buisnesses etc. But i believe i may have discovered a few awarnesses in the light of creation that had been considered. And i flow with innovation so much i didnt even write inventions down anymore. But im starting too now. I dont know if tbere is evil in my motives to understand, and my motive to protect the earth with my creative discoveries within the gift of life here. Glory all goes to God. And i feel pride and shame when i point something out like "this motivated by my naturally good heart amd my true self is a divine discovery. I am probably the first to say Ive beaten Lucifar hands down on 3 areas very simple. 1: there is guarenteed 1% of love within this entitty from the bible, And Lucifer is afraid of this within himself. He fears the capacity in his heart. Lucifer fears himself. And that tiny igmored reality of love is capable of seeking forgiveness and apologizing to his creator. Yea i could be nuts but 2: humans, generally any life form brought into light given the breath of life to seek the water of life, are conditioned, refined, we are born with lack of understanding and in time develop sincere amd forced pursuit of underatanding. I take it Lucifer just suddenly came into light an angel with uncomparable tangible working knowledge with math, music, stars, and whatever elae. Put Satan up against a regular devloped human and there is much to gain from the journey in being. Where satan just woke up with his bed made and an attitude similar to mine perhaps. "This can be better". Is where i stop the line. I assume God ridicule came from the statue with emotions and knowledge. Who should be a professilnal liar if he believes himself that his strength and power are not extensioms of God to begin with. Have to be a wicked bad liar to claim pride and ownership of anything whatsoever under the light. And finally 3 i feel im going to remember the 3rd way I checked the scariest guy in hell. But yeah no? assuming the story true, wouldnt the capacity in hiz heart be to close to deny and create fear and the most depressing "what am i going to wear today" moments? Before showing the tear in his eyes emotions. this waa a really long stretch of a first blog in life. Im considering Blog 2 to be straight down to the knit. My **** and my luster. None of you will likely know me so ill drop down my guard and even get into the pride/shame like. yes i was on that crack like they were infinity packs and the only translatable view to the edge lf my heart beyond the mountain God may have intended to be in my way. And yes for sure real sexual absurditiesn have been a matter if exploration and i found the most go to being ones least condoned like im straight but a few times on thjs other drug, the only reaskn the drug would be any jse to me if I went straight tranny freakazoid fk or even longer than 12 straight ( kind of) hours. I made a bjg ordeal of it too because i live in comparing to a waizt to shoulder hi body of water like fear. Im always nearly always in fear of something. Even if its just in a house all alone I am watching my tone and volume to not disturb the entity or embarrass myself. And theres usually a lot of BS running around my zone too. But anywhoo, scared of the SwaT teams and demons in a hotel, after the first usual 3 hours of eyes attatched to all directions i can notice without moving i said im going to max this **** out right here yeeaaaaa and i was doing poses for the potentials whoever stands at a second floor hotel window for 3 hours. You catch the drift. Sure part of the freaknicity invomved is mentally appealing. Im nkt going to lie. The flesh of a woman looking jedi equipped i mean has to be no sembalance of a male but thats neithr here nor anywhere for me because this isnt like, my hearts reach in any way. Since the last time i freaked off i encountered sexual encounter with an at the time friend lady and then almost a second time with the hottest coat rack breast formation i ever need to remember. Well she pulls out the money for intercourse part and now i am in not only great confliction but with a prepared spirit for the one of the highest priority lessons I could learn or be corrected on. And just then came a foundation of knowledge and vision. Flesh perveree barbaric using eachother like another drug or relieving some pain or just sheer addicted. Ive never had a time i can remember where there is something between us not being impprtant to me in the sack of awesome goods. If there is no relation there to me now more than ever, then jt is absolute perversive use of the flesh and body. I hope i dont get some effect of a born habbit and tranny zerg away my problem and enhanced self confliction. Hey that was mostly because damn new drug new coping mechanisim, and there are countless survielance vultures and sure there are good birds too but ive raised a lot of attention. I just let go on the FBI something about FBIs mom too. And maybe i just want the 3rd particles in good hands but I cant trust a comey supporting organization who are either ignoring the messed up bridge and back up the lies or they are beings without common sense. Plus some other group(s) i may or may not belong too. Im an expert **** up trying to move out of this world vast potential into a framing of the only way i see contributing chance to 5 generations from now to be atleast alive bearably. But no the world unison is buy what they say to buy no matter what healthier and bio friendly lower cost solutions are hidden from us. What would evolve in systems and technologies supressed by our ROTH oppressors fancy dress night club, is probably far beyond any imagination. But we want to say its cool ill stcik with gasine and everything else unto death. Whats a future generaton? I dont see blood on my hands yet. Not my problem. Or worst yet of the whe set is the sad existance of knowing that better is a controlled possibility removed from possibility by a few tactics to keep humans focused on other problems like, never never represent the problem with details about the CIA plane crash bringing cocain into america. Dont put on the news 24,311 bombs were dropped on other countries. Like is it 100s or thousands of oilline breaks per year? Either way they don't want you to see the pentagon lost 6.5 trlion bucks whoops . And tobaccoo being a substantial source of tax revenue. Whatever moneys not the problem here. Its how ks your FDA cool with 6000 known additves to a ciggrrate? and youre good with modified organism (gene manipulated plant life namely fruist and veggiesbyou can claim intellectual rights to tomatoes now by altering its DNA) that most consumers would lome the right to know but man its over with. Im either going to just die one day... Or I'm going to dye knowing i threw down a few sparks that reached a storm the ROTH associates will have to get stepping. Go buy your own planet or island of youre so obsessed with being king lizard man. Destroying the offspring futures chance of a liveable world and potential of decent m humanity instead of 10 billion people having to suddenly adjust with the last forseeable year with petro fuels or stop kilming the world. stop taking more grip over our societies industries and market lkke..... I know allegedly 90% media is slapped into air by atleast 1 out of just 6 mega corps. Sl is that lime our clothes are probably boiked up to ROTH brands? ummmm blog 1 i might S sell have gave an essay i worked on a year in the American college system at the podium with the XYZ or funny stain black shirt liike.... Yea l make this mire worth while and if it fails me or i fail i might even try a second blog life. But i realoze the value in these blogs being revved around free introduction to inventions. All the way up to a new style of buildings. lkke really hard to see as anything but futuristic, easier, and better in at least a few distinct ways. #1 perk of this technology given we are not on unlimited resource world but ements kf the housing structure are intact by such a way that it can be reutilized and ultimately there is potential for a no waste technology that reaches every door in the earth thats been done up the new way. Syria Afghanistan ans in general the countries that had devestated ways of lives of countless individual lkves of family members pretty much need to be rebuilt by this building technogy unseen. And the speed should be quicker as well. blog1 the ramble of death. the simplicity in taking base technology and enhancing them with personal and ho.e life is not only missing from our choices but unbelievable how eaay it would seem to accomplish the evidence of .mmm It only seems impossible because its not on tap at any restaurants we know. Partly why i have arranged a vision of my most hoped for life one without its core an office and a desk but one built from the potentials of imagination. Imagination being in part most crucial in expanding reality. Alright next one will be shorter sweet cut and dry. The facts in my peraonel history. ps im paranoid schizo like pretty much everything frim swat teams, demons, and ritualistic annual sacrifice held secretly in the depth expanse of a tunnelways descendance into reality where only one hope has life, that is Lord God mercy.

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