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#//MAN. i should... [<- staring into the abyss very hard]
keeps-ache · 1 month
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blaaaauhhhghhgh [melting into a goop] aohhhghghhshabh
#just me hi#Blahhhaahahaaaaaaaaaaaa#oh BLOO#poo. ploo. bloop#i wanna work on my comic. sniff#'why don't you then' Becausssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssse [wild vague gesturing]#balalaglalgaguauhuglhaslghuhsdgk#Bllllaaaaaaaaaahhhh#//when i speak in quotations that's more my other me talking than you just to be clear hbfvhsf#sometimes being contrary can look like being in full and unwavering support of the same things Lmaooo#me vs. the squaters in my brain (it was mutual for them to move in) (they are trying to be helpful (and are successful mostly (i'm just#being. well. contrary hfbshv)))#//but ye yea ye#my brother helped me set up my emulator and !!! and i can play sky on my puter now :DD#i woulda set it up but. i am always afraid i'll lose track of the directions hfhsh#i could have the instructions etched into my brain and i'm still going to be So sure i imagined them wrong or something lolll#//MAN. i should... [<- staring into the abyss very hard]#!!!!!!#i think i'm in a pocket of hyperness for some reason where did this come from Hfbsvbhf#/hey does being excited hurt sometimes lol#like if i don't throw it out somehow it feels like my chest is constricting and it'll do it to such an extent that i'll become a black hole#bhsf :>#when i was younger i just avoided things that made me too Whee cuz i didn't like it hfvbsh#but now i just sort of put it all into happy handing it so hard i hurt my wrists a lil hfhs :3#//anyway my computer's getting hot oo#i should turn on my cooling thing#oh and also prolly finish this piece lol#/i might make it a small comic (love short comics sm (i have so many)) out of it but who knows hfh :>>#//duos my beloved <33
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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months
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kind of angsty and maybe a bit too cruel but,,, vampire hunter könig with vampire engel who he only allows to feed when she does things the way he wants her to?
i feel like in a way he would pretend that he doesn't actually understand how much she needs blood and how strong the urge to feed is, how it's unlike food for humans and the effects of starving could be much worse for her
like she could be crying and shaking and telling him that it just feels so bad, it's borderline painful and könig is just like "well you were being bad, liebling :( you know i have to do this"
although when he does let her feed she's only allowed to drink his blood and not allowed to call him out on the fact that he very obviously enjoys it
Oh my god poor Engel?? Whatever has she done to deserve such a cruel master?
But of course she’s drawn to him, far more powerful than any vampire she has ever seen, which is simply an insult to the laws of nature because he’s a mortal… And yet he seems to possess the strength of a 400-year-old vampire and the will of an entire mountain, Engel is just smitten, watching him from afar night after night, playing around with the thought of having a taste of that mesmerizing, cruel man who seems to hunt her kind purely for sport.
He takes the villager's money and gets blessed by the priest, but he’s far from a holy warrior. Oh no, she knows that look: it’s the same piercing stare a vampire has just before he’s about to feed.
That man is not here to do God’s work, he’s not here to help, he’s here to feast. Still, the brutal knife strapped to his thigh never makes her shiver. Not even the wooden stakes he carves out of white oak strike fear in her cold, dead heart. No, she’s basically quivering with the need to sink her little teeth in his neck and see if this big alp of a man would moan.
-
And one night, König does wake up to the feeling of a woman’s cold mouth on his throat, a mouth that turns hot the minute she draws blood. He should be alarmed, realizing in an instant what’s going on but not being able to help the fact that he’s getting hard, that his arms slowly rise to lock around her waist. She gets scared – do Nachzehrers even get scared? – and withdraws, and Gott, she’s even more beautiful than in the picture they gave him…
He’s been hunting for over thirty years, leading a lonely life, a brutal life, the acts he’s done slowly distorting him into the crazed madman he’s called nowadays. And sometimes he feels he’s becoming the very thing he hunts, losing himself in the carnage, enjoying the killing – perhaps he has stared into the abyss for far too long...
But this is the most beautiful abyss he has ever seen: frightful eyes shot wide, mouth pretty and red with his blood, lips parted and revealing two pointy, perfect little canines, the prettiest he has ever had to pleasure to behold and, well… he has always wanted a pet.
-
“Don’t stop,” he rasps, and not out of weakness. The man doesn’t look at all like he’s about to faint even though she already took three long gulps from him. He should be getting pale by now, and she doesn’t want to kill him – no, she wants to return to him again and again, try other spots in his body, and then escape just before he can seize and destroy her.
Humans, even the big ones, should not be able to wrestle her down after she has drawn so much blood, but he’s holding her prisoner with ease: the hands around her waist are pure, warm muscle, the body under her is hard and strong and so, so very alive.
She was always told to avoid the hunters because they know much more than the others, she's been warned that they will eventually catch her if she kept playing with them.
She knows she shouldn’t be here but... she just can’t help herself sometimes. And perhaps she kind of did expect to be gripped in an iron hold… perhaps she even yearned to be held by him. But she didn’t expect him to ask for more.
-
Three weeks later, she still hasn’t had enough of him, quite the contrary.
They’re now travelling together, as sick as it sounds – she even has her own coffin, made out of oak too and hauled around in a carriage where König throws his bag of stakes. They make an odd pair, the impale tools and her lonely bed (oh, how she wishes she could sleep with him, or that he could join her in her coffin). The stakes still don't make her shiver, or if they do, then they do so only in the most endearing way.
She thought she would eventually wear him down, that he would become soft and pale and lethargic after being treated like blood cattle. But he doesn’t. If anything, it’s she who’s getting pale and weak. She’s slowly losing her powers from being around him for so long: her sight and hearing only catch König because he has the strongest heart of them all, and he never lets her feed when she wants to. Not even when she needs to.
He wants her frail and begging before she gives it to her, and not even his moans, the pure pristine sounds of pleasure she finally gets, not even the fact that he’s petting her hair while she uses him, not even the thrilling phenomenon that’s happening in his leather pants when she puts her mouth on him is able to satisfy her hunger.
It should be impossible for a vampire to love, but sometimes she catches herself wondering… is she in love with König?
Is she in love with a mortal man who lets out deprived groans and gets an erection from the softest graze of her fangs? Who hunts her kind with a bloodlust that surpasses even the passions of a vampire? Who’s clearly not only insane but also ostracized, hated and feared by his own people?
But the question that haunts her the most as she retreats to her cold coffin while König turns the carriage toward yet another mountain path is: does he even love her back…?
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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months
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Headcanon: Steve's parents come back while their son is having a sleep-over with the older teens. Steve is in the middle of an intense nightmare.
The ground was opening up beneath his feet. He rushed to Dustin, tried to push him out of the way, but only ended up pushing him down. Eddie yelled to him where he was holding onto the edge of the opening, trying so hard not to fall into the abyss below.
"No!" Steve tried to grab one of Eddie's hands, ignoring the screaming of Robin and Max in the distance. "Hold on!"
But it was too late. Eddie slipped and within seconds, Steve could no longer see or hear him yelling his name.
"Steven! Wake up!"
Steve's eyes flew open to see his mother staring at him, hint of concern just visible beneath her usual mask of disgust at his mere existence.
He looked around and saw everyone sitting up and watching him.
Nancy and Robin had death grips on Eddie's legs, trying to keep him away from Steve.
"What in the world is going on?" his father asked from behind the couch.
"Why are these people here? Why are you sleeping in the living room?" his mother continued, not giving him a chance to actually speak.
The comedown from a nightmare like that was always disorienting even without the barrage of questions coming from people who weren't supposed to be home for weeks.
"Steve, we're all okay," Eddie said, clearly fighting every urge to rush over to him, to touch his face and kiss his lips the way he always did when he had a nightmare.
"Are you going to explain?" His father's tone broke through his state of panic and he frowned.
"No."
"No?"
"No. These are my friends and this is my house more than it is yours at this point. We weren't doing anything wrong," Steve gulped.
He'd never spoken to his parents like that, not even in arguments over grades or sports or college or his future.
"Excuse me? This house is in our name and you live here with the expectation that you will work and save money to get your own place since you refuse to go to college."
Steve saw Eddie start to move, but Nancy shoved him back down and glared at him.
"And that's what I'm doing. I don't work every single minute of my life. I'm allowed to hang out with friends."
"With a drug dealer? And two young women who should not be sleeping anywhere near two young men?" his mother asked as she looked over Nancy and Robin.
"Fine. We'll go."
Steve stood up, still a bit off from his nightmare, and gestured for everyone to follow him.
His parents started to argue, but he ignored them, making sure everyone had their stuff as they all walked out of the house.
They all got into Eddie's van, but Nancy and Robin moved to the back so they could curl up under the blanket they brought with them.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asked him as they backed out of the driveway.
What time even was it?
"Yeah. Just don't wanna be here anymore," Steve sighed.
"Stay with me for a bit?" Eddie asked, looking over at him as he drove towards the trailer park.
"Wayne doesn't like me very much. Not sure that's a good idea," Steve sighed.
"What do you mean? Wayne loves you."
"He hates me! He never even talks to me. He looked at me weird when I cooked dinner that one night for both of you. Thought he was gonna take me out back and shoot me or something," Steve admitted.
Eddie laughed.
"Stevie, Wayne loves you. He's just a man of few words and he was lookin' at you like that because he didn't know we were together yet and thought you were looking at us as a charity case. He didn't realize you were trying to impress him because we started dating."
"Oh."
"Yeah. So. Stay? Until you find a place at least?"
Steve nodded.
"Yeah. I'll stay."
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wannaeatramyeon · 10 months
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not a request, i just have no friends that like lookism who i can rant about this to.
my brain cannot stop thinking about gun and goo with a s/o that is very feminine but in the way that a porcelain doll is feminine. like pretty and delicate but with an underlying creepiness in an uncanny valley way.
like holds gun and goos hand while walking down the street and part of the people walking past are scared of gun and goo but then they look at her and are like "😰" because there is something so off about her.
gun and goo going inside a store and getting something because they know that any man who tries anything will see that creepy doll-like stare and immediately walk away.
i dont know, theres just something about femininity of porcelain dolls that goes so well with gun and goo in my brain and i just needed to tell someone about this worm in my brain.
thank you for reading my rant, its greatly appreciated, my mind needed to put this SOMEWHERE.
Me about to say of course anyone ending up with Gun and/or Goo would be deranged. As a fandom we breeze over what horrific monsters they are then... this happened. Some things just write itself almost instantly. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me anon!!
Gun Park x Reader x Goo Kim: Soulless
F reader. A strange throupling. If you want horny, this is not it.
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Crystal isn't sure if it is a stroke of genius or temporary lapse of sanity from her father to pair Gun Park and Goo Kim together.
Like oil and water; if the oil and the water was both highly toxic and would guarantee a painful death.
Nevertheless, it got the job done.
Yet when you were introduced, an odd addition and forming a throuple, Crystal worked hard to not show the confusion on her face.
True, her hyungs are very handsome in their own right and it would make sense they match up with someone equally beautiful.
But your doll-like, 'look you the wrong way and you may shatter' appearance seemed completely at odds with Gun and Goo.
And then she shook your hand, looked into your eyes and it all clicked.
Quite simply, there was nothing there. Vacant, soulless.
A void not dissimilar to Gun Park.
The polite 'hello' and stretched smile also reminiscent of Goo Kim.
Beneath your pretty layers, your pink and your frills are further hints of your true nature. Faint markings around your collarbone, dried blood below your manicure, dust and dirt marring your footsteps.
As Gun and Goo debriefed Crystal on HNH comings and goings, you simply sat there. One hand around Gun's arm and head resting on Goo's shoulder.
Staring and quiet. Expression unreadable. Just... existing.
You laughed when you were supposed to, added to the conversation when you should.
As if waiting for your cue. Even your blinks seem scripted.
Finally, when Crystal departs, she locks eyes with you for the last time.
A sense of drowning overwhelms her. Like she is treading water over an abyss, waiting for whatever is lurking to engulf her whole.
Feeling as if she would fall into your darkness forever, she couldn't repress the shiver down her spine.
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primojade · 2 years
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𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.
𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 : 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐀 𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀. ( the die is cast )
𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈 : 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐌 𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌. ( argument against the man )
" the only impossible journey is the one you never begin. " - tony robins.
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒' 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | As a veteran AR60 player of Genshin Impact, you pride yourself as someone who knows the ins and outs of Teyvat, even studiously completing Spiral Abyss every reset, and having 100% exploration to some, if not all, of the released regions so far. Everything is fun and enjoyable, especially since Sumeru just recently debuted so you still have a lot to do!
All that ends though, when a mysterious passerby pushes you off the building of your university while playing Genshin. But instead of meeting your inevitable end, you find yourself waking up in the very world you were addicted to! 
It's supposed to be a fun dream, right? Something you could laugh at when you wake up? Right?! So, why is that you were back in AR1 with nothing but a dull blade in your inventory?!
…well, at least you still have those 700+ sunsettias and mints, Timmie's fowls…and surprisingly similar game mechanics you used to merely see on the screen before. But what should you do now? Flirt with the Genshin men??? Good lords...
"Welcome to Genshin Impact, Dreamer. Here, we can show you a happier ever after you've never had before…so, ready?"
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | In which your utter disappointment with your game progress (or regression) cause you to trigger a new quest? Is this a chance you should take? And Tighnari told you that humans are often more predictable, however, you're an odd one out.
𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 | Cursing, hasty confession (but not really?), tighnari is getting suspicious of you, rightfully so lol. Let me know if I missed anything <3
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I don't know if I should post the route 1 and 2 at the same time but...eh...let me know what u think! Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
masterlist | prologue: that love is a fallacy | (alternate route) route ii: argumentum ad ignorantiam
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For your own sake, you logically decided to remain still inside Tighnari's house. Your body was still aching all over, even though the Therianthrope had meticulously treated your wounds well—which you guessed was from your fall with him—it also doesn't leave the fact that you felt even more tired than when you were reviewing for your exams every night.
Well, that would be the first reason. The other is that you were still in shock—and denial—at what the hell is happening right now. Tighnari was real, you could see and touch him in the flesh, and you can't be mistaken that that person isn't him because you know it's him by the amount of shameless staring and gushing you did with his soft-looking ears and tail during his first banner and in his idles.
So, yes…if you were indeed get isekai'd in Genshin Impact, one question still begs to be answered. A lot, to be honest, but for now, you were still not accepting this reality wholeheartedly.
"M…Maybe I just misclicked it or something. That's right, I probably just misread it." You tried reasoning to yourself, a little desperate, before closing the hologram screen. After you take a lungful of breaths, you shakily pat your chest once, and the screen appears before you again.
[Username]
(No Signature)
Adventure Rank: 1
Adventure EXP: 0
World Level: 0
"NOOOOO!!!" You wailed loudly, almost thrashing your feet in the bed as you animatedly heard the cracking ice and booming volcanoes in your head, goading and laughing at your misery. "...my AR60 account, my characters…I grind so hard for them…for two years…"
Almost in tears, you gulped shakily as your eyes travelled down to the Inventory tab, tapping it only to groan in utter disappointment when ALL of your precious weapons were gone! Every. Single. One. Of them! Not even a trusty Prototype Rancour or a Harbinger of Dawn! All of them are gone except for that damn LVL1 Dull Blade!
"I can't believe this…all of my hard work…" You sniffed and stiffly tapped the icon of the Dull Blade, and to your surprise, the weapon suddenly appeared in front of you. "Woahhh—!" Its sharp blade almost grazes your skin. you manage to grab its hilt in time but you almost dropped it when its unexpected weight almost crushed you. "This is so heavy!"
Before you hurt yourself further with the Dull Blade, you immediately unequipped the sword and switched the tab to the Artifacts, and just as you dreadily expect, it was also empty. All your precious five stars artifacts are gone so suddenly. The CD Items, Quest Items, Gadgets, Furnishings and Precious Items tab are as empty as your soul when you were done checking. 
With a shake of your head, you console yourself with the fact that at least some of the Materials (like the local specialties) and Food (sunsettias, starshrooms and apples) were still as high as you remember. 
After some time glaring at your nearly emptied inventory, you closed the tab completely, glossing over the Map in disappointment (which was, by the way, the Teleport Waypoints or Statue of the Seven were still locked, even the ones in Mondstadt and Liyue), and the Quest Menu is still empty. 
As for the other ones, if you remember correctly, the Wish and Shop were unlocked when you reached AR5. While the Character Archive would be available only when you get Amber to be playable—which you think is impossible for now considering you were in Sumeru and Mondstadt is like…a nation away.
This is all so depressing. Add to the fact that you don't know how to return to your world, almost all of your trusted resources, a chance of survival, is gone.
A few moments later, Tighnari arrived with your medicine and he raised his brow when he saw you sulking in the farthest corner of the bed. "What happened to you? Do you feel any pain somewhere?"
You gaze soullessly at him. "My hard work vanished along with my determination to live."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, drink this medicine and let's get you back to bed." You lamely took the green pill the Therianthrope gave you, toss it on your mouth and immediately gulped the glass of water he offered.
"Blegh!" You almost choked at the bitter taste and Tighnari offered you another glass of water, which you gladly took. 
"I apologise if my concotion is too bitter for your taste. On the bright side, its effectiveness could be trusted." He said in a matter-of-fact tone, though the light twiched of his ears and the swish of his tail tells you that he found your reactions amusing.
"I know, I believe you—uh, what?."
Tighnari was staring at you like you grown two heads. "Hmm. Well, curious how you just swallow that thing without asking me what it was or checking to see if its something dangerous. Even though you appear to know me, you should've been more careful."
It looks like he was about to lecture you about safety and stuff so you immediately replied. "...Dunno, maybe because I don't think you have any reason to poison me after helping and patching me up? Plus, I know your reputation, your talents and your dedication to help. Poisoning me is something against your principles."
"That's true," the Therianthrope looked thoughtful, his green-olive eyes staring down at you intently. "However, humans tend to be a little more cautious about this, you know, which makes them quite predictable. And speaking of which, you appear to know me, but I never have the chance to ask yours. I believe introductions are overdue?"
"Oh, uh…I'm [Name]. Hehehe. Sorry again for all the trouble, Tighnari." You said gratefully. For a moment, you wonder if he would recognised your name. Well, you don't even know if this Tighnari is the same as the Tighnari you were playing before. And even if he was, he probably wouldn't recognised your real name since you were using a Username instead.
Speaking of which…
WHERE IS YOUR PHONE?! AND YOUR BACKPACK? 
Before you could ask what befall your other stuff, Tighnari cut you off. He was looking at you curioisly, never hostile but you could see his guard was up, his tail tensing a little. "...I believe myself to have a decent memory, and I'm confident I never seen you before. How did you know my name?"
How could you tell him he was a video game character you were playing before you die?!
Yeah, no. As if he would believed you. He might've thought you were losing your last braincells and even send you to Bimarstan for real this time.
Quick, [Name], just throw any excuse you could find! Your hippocamus was internally panicking along with you.
"...I KNOW BECAUSE I LOVE YOU—" you blurted out in a frenzy before you realised what you said. Your eyes widened, as shock as him. "I mean, I love your ears and tail! I don't love you as in you, since you're not rea—wait…that will sounds wrong. But not that way—ugh!"
Before you could dug a hole to hide your embarassment, Tighnari's ears perked up as he glance outside the door. At the same time, the hologram of the Paimon Menu suddenly appeared in front of you. A blue exclamation mark marking the Quest tab made you do a double take.
Did you just triggered a World Quest with whatever nonesense you just said?
The Fox and the Jackal
70m
Go with Tighnari to see Cyno.
Quest Chain Rewards: 250 Adventure EXP, 150 Character EXP, 20 Primogems, 5 Adventurer's Experience.
HOLY SHIZNITS—Wait, WHAT? Isn't this going a bit too fast? Why is Cyno suddenly coming here?! Why do you have to go see him, too?
And damn, whoever is the mastermind of all this is tempting you with those delicious rewards—
Route 1.1: Beg Tighnari to let you come to him and see Cyno. After all, you desperately need those primogems rewards to level up your AR. Plus, you were curious what he looks like, too.
Can you even refuse if those primogems are waving hello at you? 
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TAGLIST (open! Send a dm or ask to be added :3) | @xinii , @maehemthemisfit , @abvolat , @crazypriestess , @ghostsaysno , @kittence , @unabashedlyminiaturetyrant , @xiyanin , @toasterinabathtub , @sketcheeee , @a-single-pizza , @fuoon , @luvwukong , @salty-salty , @rosebatsc , @inky8 , @thegeekact , @almighty-raiden-shogunate , @isuckat-avery-thing , @perhapsabitgirlypop (if ur username is orange, it means i cant tagged u :(( maybe its in ur settings?)
Route 1.2: Abandon the quest! You have more pressing matters to attend to. After all, who knows if that Quest were as long as that Aranyaka that would make your hair white till you finish it. Plus, you're not a huge Cyno simp and he could tell when you lie, man! A danger! You also need to find your phone and your bag!
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ʟᴜᴄɪᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕𝟓𝟐
ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴ . ʙʟᴜʀʙ . ꜰᴜʟʟ ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ . ᴀᴏ3
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
Nothing could have prepared you for the strong metallic scent of blood wafting through the desolate cabin. Your breathing constricted with each step, slowly rounding the cracked plaster corner of the hallway only to lay your eyes on a heaving seven-foot-tall man. He stands in the middle of what should be the living room, staring at nothing, fists clenching and unclenching. Your eyes trail to his messy brown hair; dirt, debris, and dried blood clump the wavy strands together. The indent of a black strap nestles nicely within the tangles of his hair, the band connecting to the deep blue mask that is all too familiar.
What catches your eye next is just how bloody he is. The gray button-up shirt seems to stick to his muscular upper body, the blood being the glue that holds it together. Crimson liquid drips from his dark gray forearms to the scuffed wooden floor, leaving stains that will never come out. You couldn’t help but notice how his khaki pants fit so nicely around his thick thighs and ass, but the thoughts didn’t linger long as the next thing your poor human brain comprehends is his dark and gravelly toned voice.
“Come here,” he states, leaving no room for argument. Your body feels numb, buzzing with anticipation and fear. It is hard to ignore the lump in your throat that prevents you from speaking, so you take nervous steps toward the man instead–if that is even what you could call him. The way his ashen gray skin fades into black asphalt from his forearms to his fingertips says otherwise. You try not to think about it too much, as indifference is the key to survival.
So you approach him, head craning up to look into the abyss of his eye sockets that lead like tunnels into hell, presumably where he came from. Goosebumps rise on your skin. The mixture of the cold cabin air hitting your exposed legs and arms and the intensity of his stare makes it challenging to stand normally.
Your eyes break his gaze and your hands come up to rub your upper arms to try to create some semblance of warmth. Hard nipples poke through the thin cotton material of your tiny tank top. A small rose in the middle of the collar compliments the pale blue fabric nicely. It has a vintage vibe that makes you wonder just how old it is. You didn't have many options, this being the few articles of clothing that was left in the two-bedroom cabin. The top fitting in the first place is a miracle since the shorts you wore did not. They're too big and flared for your liking–the only saving grace being the drawstrings on the band. You had asked him for your clothes back from that first day, but he had shaken his head, saying something along the lines of, “They’re stained. You don’t want them.”
“Closer,” he whispered, voice breaking up your clouded brain. You didn’t want to come closer because if you did, your bare feet would be standing in the pool of blood that continues to drip from him. Your mind ran a thousand thoughts per second, scared of what would happen if you refused, and terrified of what would come of you if you listened.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” He questioned, cocking his head to the left, that horrible blue mask still concealing his face. You knew enough about him to understand that he is very matter-of-fact, not one to sugarcoat or beat around the bush. At times it frustrated you, it made him sound robotic and inhumane, and you guess it makes sense because nothing about the figure towering in front of you said ‘human.’ Other times, it helps because you know theres nothing he would be hiding.
Letting out a shaky exhale, you shake your head no, relying on your body to communicate rather than your wavering voice. Cold enveloped your feet; it was thicker than water and felt horrible against the pads of your feet. You gasped at the sensation, hands coming up to grip his half-buttoned shirt, which you immediately regretted because it felt the same as the floor–cold, hard, and wet.
“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice from sounding frightened, but you doubt it helps. His large hand came up to cup your cheeks, thumb spreading more of that sickly red liquid under your right eye, which squeezed shut at the feeling.
“You.”
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: edit: its out now! so this was just a little blurb of a smut thats currently in the works! its all the way done, lookin at about 6k words but it just needs to get edited! the full thing will be published on ao3 cause the contents are too much for tumblr to handle lol but ill make another post for that with the link when its done!
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ladamedusoif · 6 months
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An Inspecteur Calls
A Visiting Pedrotober One-Shot - Day 20, Merge Mansion
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Pairing: Professor!Ben (College AU) x OFC Lydia/fem!Reader (reader POV/2nd POV)
Summary: Lyd is stressed and frustrated, and hit with a bad dose of Parisian nostalgia. Thankfully, Ben knows of a detective - sorry, inspecteur - Roquefort, who is free to investigate the cause of her woes, shoulder holsters included.
Word Count: 2.3k
Rating: Explicit (MDNI; 18+)
Content (series/one-shot specific): Visiting fic one-shot; Professor Ben College AU; Ben and Lydia are contemporaries; canon is not a thing here; smut; fingering; oral sex (f receiving); safe PiV sex; enthusiastic consent; strong language; praise kink; references to stress; bad French; terrible French accents; role playing; these two are fucking dorks; extreme silliness
A/N: This is @jack-whiskey-daniels' fault. I wrote up this smutty little vignette, heavily inspired by the photo of Tim Rockford above, last night. Today, Luce informs me that it's Merge Mansion day for Pedrotober and I should post this. Well, who am I to say no?
With apologies for Ben's deliberately terrible attempts at role-playing a cliched French detective (inspecteur is the more common title). No apologies for me using Lydia to work through my love of Tim "Shoulder Holsters Tight Shirt Undervest" Rockford.
(And, seeing as it's his birthday and these two are film nerds, I had to throw in a reference to a film by the French director Jean-Pierre Melville, creator of several exceptional French crime dramas in the 1960s and 1970s. Le Cercle rouge is one of his finest, but they're all brilliant and highly recommended.)
Read the main story on the series Masterlist.
Usual Visiting taglist: @jack-whiskey-daniels , @julesonrecord , @tessa-quayle , @vermillionwinter , @iamskyereads , @tieronecrush , @perennialdoll247 , @love-the-abyss , @imaswellkid , @intheorangebedroom , @javierisms , @fuckyeahdindjarin , @littlemisspascal , @khindahra , @pedrostories , @readingiskeepingmegoing , @rhoorl , @red-red-rogue , @princessanglophile, @katareyoudrilling @survivingandenduring, @trulybetty @fictionismyreality @sunnywithachanceofjavi, @joeldjarin , @lahoozaherr, @s-u-t, @its-nebuleuse, @lizzie-cakes
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His warm, broad hand rests lightly on your shoulder as he passes you at the dining table. You turn to look up at him, handsome face full of concern.
“You’re not yourself. What’s up?”
You sigh and stare into your coffee. “It’s dumb.”
He pulls out a chair and sits down, quirking an eyebrow. “If it’s bothering you, I doubt it’s dumb. What’s wrong, love?”
“It’s this stupid essay I’m trying to get finished. I’m missing some of the stuff that would be really useful for it, and I should have gone to see it last time I was in Paris, and I’m frustrated with myself.”
“That’s not dumb, darling. Even if you are being too hard on yourself, as usual.”
You slump forward on the table, mumbling against the wooden surface. “And then I thought about how easy it used to be to just…pop over to Paris, whenever I could, and then I started thinking about it and how much I love it.”
He pats your arm affectionately. “Still not dumb.”
“And then we watched Le Cercle rouge last night and even all those dodgy cops and inspecteurs in their trenchcoats and hats and crime were making me miss Paris. See? Dumb.”
Ben shakes his head and smiles softly. “Not dumb at all. It’s a part of you, of who you are.” He traces a circle on the back of your hand. “And anyway, didn’t you once tell me you had a thing for dodgy cops with moustaches?” He looks at you mischievously and you grin.
“You, Benjamin, are a very tolerant man.” You reach out and trace your fingers over the coarse hair on one side of his face, and he closes his eyes and hums happily.
“I love you, Lyddie. It’ll be okay.” He pushes himself away from the table and heads towards the hallway. “I gotta go for my early seminar, but keep Hemingway in mind.”
You laugh and roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course, the answer is in literature.” He pauses at the door, waiting for you to acknowledge the quotation. “‘Wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.’”
He does that half-smile that never fails to make you melt, blows you a kiss, and heads off to work.
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You meet him later for lunch, having worked at home for most of the morning. In between bites of his sandwich, he excitedly talks about the graduate seminar he’d taught, and you discuss your plans for your workshop on gender and visual culture that afternoon while Ben listens attentively.
“You feeling any better?” he asks, as you brush a stray couple of crumbs from his moustache. 
“A bit. I’m sorry, I just spiralled. Probably mostly stress and frustration at my own shitty work ethic and crap ideas.”
He kisses the tips of your fingers swiftly and discreetly, and you giggle. “You have to be kinder to yourself. You’re working too hard, thinking about it too much.”
You clear your table and bring your trays to the designated area, hands brushing lightly against each other as you stroll out of the cafeteria and back towards your building and your offices. You smile to yourself at how, even now, the slightest touch from him sends a current of electricity sparking through your body.
Ben opens his office door and pulls you in for a quick kiss before you have to go and teach. He pulls away reluctantly as you whine softly. 
“Please be kinder to yourself, Lyd.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as you move into the hallway. “I’m happy to help distract you, you know.”
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“I’m home, love!” 
You drop your bag beside the hall table and hang your coat up on the rack before kicking off your shoes and stretching upwards as you walk towards the kitchen, where you expect to find him. On days when you have a later teaching schedule, Ben likes to get home earlier, finish his work in his attic study, and then get dinner started for both of you.
Something delicious is cooking away in the CrockPot, but there’s no sign of your boyfriend. You pass into the dining room, noticing the light from the living room coming through the glass-panelled doors. 
Ben is sitting on the sofa, wearing his glasses - nothing out of the ordinary there. But he’s also clad in the trenchcoat he wore for his Dave Toschi costume on Halloween, which is decidedly weird. 
“Uh, baby? You okay?”
He turns to face you, arching an eyebrow and running his eyes up and down your body as if he’s appraising you. 
“Ben?”
“Bonsoir, mademoiselle.”
You scrunch your face up in absolute confusion, and wonder if you should call Jen. Maybe some kind of accident happened at work? Did he take a knock to the head?
“Ben, I’m…what the fuck is happening?”
He holds a hand up to one side of his face and does a sort of stage whisper. “Go with it, Lyd! Just an attempt at cheering you up. You want to stop, just say the word.”
You burst out laughing and shake your head. “No, I’m… I’ll see where this leads, monsieur.”
He grins in satisfaction and stands up. “Je suis Inspecteur Timothée Roquefort, and…uh, I mean, et je suis un…Parisian police homme.”
“Baby, I know your French is better than this.”
Ben holds up a hand and continues speaking in what can only be described as one of the worst comedy French accents you have ever heard. “Mademoiselle! Do not interrupt moi.”
You bite your lip, body shaking with laughter. “D’accord, monsieur.”
“I received une message at the commissariat de police that une jolie femme was…” He looks away as he thinks. “Triste parce que she is not in Pareeeeee.”
“D’accord, mais je ne sais pas pourquoi les flics doivent intervenir dans une question personnelle, en fait, et alors -” [Okay, but I don’t know why cops have to intervene in a personal matter, really, and anyway -]
Ben looks panicked, and starts to rub at one side of his moustache with his pointer finger.
“Uh… HON HON HON. OMELETTE DU FROMAGE.”
That does it. You collapse against him in a fit of laughter, eyes creased and tears rolling down your cheeks. He holds you close against him as you look up at his open, handsome face. 
“You are a very goofy man, Benjamin Morales, and I love you for it. Though I don’t really understand how I want to fuck you this badly even with that accent.”
He grins. “You want to fuck moi because je suis a sexy Parisian police homme, non?” 
He plants a kiss to your forehead as he hugs you tightly. “L’Inspecteur did have une question de plus, Lyddie.”
“Eh bien?”
You can see him struggling not to laugh as he makes a cheesy, cliched “sexy” face at you. 
“La question, s’il vous plait.”
“Well, mademoiselle…” Ben shrugs off the trenchcoat to reveal the shoulder holsters he’d worn at Halloween. The ones that had helped show you just how beautifully broad he was. The ones you’d held onto as the two of you sat as close as it was possible for two friends to sit, both taking any opportunity to make contact with the other’s body. 
The ones you’d asked him, a while back, if he’d kept. “Just because,” you’d explained. “They were kinda hot.”
You reach out and trace your fingers over the leather of the straps, biting your lip and feeling the flame of your desire building steadily into an inferno.
“La question, monsieur l’Inspecteur.”
He arches his brow and gives you his most seductive smile. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”
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You make it to the bedroom in record time, laughing as you race up the stairs and sit down on the bed as he stands in front of you. 
“Where do you want me for the, uh, investigation, monsieur l’Inspecteur?”
Ben grins delightedly and leans forward, encouraging you to lie back on the mattress as he shifts his broad form over you, arms caging your body as you run your hands over his warm, solid chest and that tummy that makes you absolutely feral. His white shirt is perfectly snug, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, and your hips are already shifting upwards to meet his crotch, desperate for him.
You grip the shoulder holsters as Ben chuckles, bringing his head lower and whispering in your ear. “Je think that les clues are hidden dans your body.”
You both burst out laughing, but your eyes stay trained on each other, never breaking the intense intimacy and erotic power of the shared gaze. 
“You should probably do some searching, then, Inspecteur.”
Ben kisses you deeply as he moves you towards the middle of the bed and loosens his tie before unbuttoning your blouse, bringing his mouth to every new area of skin exposed. “Might be here?” he murmurs, lips brushing off the velvety flesh of your breasts before sucking on your nipples through the pink lace of your bra. 
Your back arches as you gasp. “No, don’t think so…sir.”
You feel his cock twitch in his pants at that and you smile wickedly. “Liked that, did we? Sir?”
Ben hides his face against your tummy and laughs. “Maybe.” His broad hands roam up to your shoulders as he helps you out of your blouse, before tracing the outline of your waist and the curves of your hips and ass as he unbuttons your dark green pants and slips his fingers into your panties. 
“Fuck, Ben, fuck, that’s -”
“Maybe the clues are here? What do you think, mademoiselle?”
He shifts his body down the bed and looks up at you lasciviously, eyes burning black with lust as he pulls your pants down and discards them. He eases your legs apart and you react with a gasp and a giggle as he works his way up your thighs. 
“Looking for treasure, sir?”
He laughs, low and warm, and brings his face to your core. “Found it, mademoiselle.” The heat of his mouth hits your pussy through the fabric of your panties, and you moan loudly. He hums happily as he kisses your soaking cunt, pulling the fabric aside to grant him more access before he drags them off you completely and buries his mouth between your legs. His tongue moves between your folds, flicking your clit every now and again before diving into the warm wetness of your entrance while the strong line of his nose keeps the pressure on the sensitive nub. 
The first orgasm hits you hard, and your hips bear down on Ben’s face as he groans with pleasure. He slips two fingers inside you to sustain the climax a little longer, and with the other hand unbuckles his belt and undoes his zipper, slipping off his pants and boxer briefs while he continues to massage the spot inside you that he knows, having had you so many times, will deepen the orgasm and build to an even stronger one next time.
“Need you, baby,” you whine, eyes drifting to his hard cock, tip glistening with pre-come. “Need you so badly.”
You reach up as he shifts his weight over you, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his white undervest, clinging perfectly to his gorgeous, solid form. He makes as if to take off the holsters. 
“Don’t you fucking dare take those off. They’re staying on, sir.”
He raises his eyebrows and laughs. “Oh, mademoiselle likes them, does she?”
You giggle, feeling his warm breath against your lips, and slip your fingers under the straps around his shoulders. “She really likes them, monsieur. Liked them from the first time she saw them on you.”
He kisses you hard, one hand groping your tits while the other gives his cock a few strokes as he shifts into position. “Sometimes I wish you’d told me back then, that night,” he murmurs, sucking lightly on your neck and making you cry out.
“Think we made up for lost time, though,” you gasp, tilting your head to look at his hard length notching at the wet folds of your cunt. “Please fuck me, baby.”
He slides into you in a fluid motion, moaning long and slow as he bottoms out and the tightness of your pussy takes hold around his cock. He drags back out of you slowly, luxuriantly, savouring every bump and ridge inside you and trying to restrain himself from driving back into you too quickly.
“Jesus, baby, your pussy is fucking incredible. So warm and tight for me.”
He starts to fuck you, picking up pace quickly as you keep hold of the shoulder holsters.
“Tell me, darling.”
He closes his eyes, face a perfect expression of ecstasy. “It’s just fucking perfect. Like you’re made for me, made for my cock. Made for each other.”
You tilt your pelvis slightly so that he’s grinding a little more on your clit as he moves in and out of you, and before long the friction has you coming again. Ben groans at the sensation as your pussy clenches around him and you ride out your orgasm on his cock. 
“Fuck, Lyd, I - oh, fuck.” He seems surprised at how quickly his own release comes, spilling into you while he buries his face against your neck, muttering a litany of curses and praise. 
“Oh fuck fuck fuck baby, that’s fucking it, that’s - my good fucking girl, fuck.”
When he lifts his head again, his face and upper body are drenched in sweat, dripping onto your neck and chest. He kisses you slowly, deeply, before he pulls out. You whine with pleasure at the taste of yourself, of your cunt, on his lips.
He flops back onto the bed, turning to kiss you again and stroke your cheek as he whispers his love for you, over and over.
You return the gesture, nuzzling against him, sated and feeling completely loved, completely adored, completely safe. 
The sight of the shoulder holster makes you giggle affectionately. This beautiful, goofy, sexy man, who would come up with something so silly and so sweet and so insanely hot, just to make you feel better.
“Can the inspecteur come by another time, baby? I think there might be more cases to solve.”
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(tape warning by @cafekitsune; star dividers by @saradika)
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thatsokayy · 7 months
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dainsleif x reader (nsfw) | "why don't you come back to my place?"
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A stranger that frequented the bar helps walk you home. He's pretty sexy, you can't deny that...
Tags: oral sex, drunk sex
4.2k words
ao3 link
The man was a newcomer to the bar, and you'd never even seen him in town before. He was dressed very strangely, wearing a mask on the right side of his face, the only feature visible on that side being his eye. He looked elegant, as if he was a descendant of a royal family. He had an air of sophistication to him, and he definitely wasn’t from the area, much less Mondstadt.
His gloved finger dragged along the rim of the shot glass before he picked it up and took a sip.
The stranger shot a glance at you, seeming to know that you were staring at him. Flustered, you grabbed the nearest cup and began to wash it. He definitely wasn't just a traveler. He had an eerie vibe to him so you avoided standing close when you served him, but you couldn't keep your eyes off of him. His light blonde hair was especially striking, catching your eyes every time you turned your head to survey the other customers.
The night went on, and the man had a few more glasses before he abruptly stood up and headed to the counter where you were.
You gave him a polite smile as you would to any customer, and he quietly asked for his check. His voice was deep and rich, and he seemed to prefer making eye contact when talking to someone, although it was hard to hold his sharp gaze.
You fetched him his check and he paid it, tipping you above average for how much he spent, then was gone as quickly as he arrived.
You couldn't lie that he was on your mind. He returned again the next week, ordering the same thing, solemnly approaching to pay the check. And the next week after that. You realized that you would stare at the door, awaiting his arrival at the usual times. One day, when you were bringing his personal favorite drink (at least you assumed it was because it was what he ordered the most), you stayed at his table for a bit longer.
"You've been coming here often,” you commented. "Are you a traveler? Or maybe you just moved here?"
He turned his head to look at you. His penetrative stare sent ghostly spiders crawling up the back of your neck. "I suppose you could say that," he replied after a silent pause.
"Well, no matter who you are, we appreciate your patronage." Usually the customers at the bar were more than willing to chat, especially with a few drinks in their system. This man, however, gave you a curt, short answer and you knew well enough that he wouldn’t entertain you much more. With a polite bow, you headed back to the counter and tried to watch him as discreetly as you could.
Your home was a bit of a trek from the city of Mondstadt, and by the time you left it was already dark. You weren't worried; not in the slightest. Nothing bad had happened to you before whenever you walked home from work. Slimes and hilichurl tribes were spotted in the area occasionally, but they only ever attacked if provoked.
The stars above you looked stunning, along with the moon shining brightly behind a gathering of clouds. You were busy looking up at the night sky when you heard a loud gust of wind blow behind you, and you wouldn’t have paid it any mind if the noise didn’t cause a primal twinge of fear to grow in your chest.
Turning on your heels, you watched as a group of creatures materialized behind you, their devious chuckles making your stomach sink.
You recollected that these were Abyss Mages, and although you never encountered them on your own, you knew they were incredibly dangerous for someone who couldn't fight or didn't possess a Vision. You recollected the tales that drunk adventurers rambled about of their fierce encounters with the creatures of the Abyss. What were they doing in the fields of Mondstadt… and why were there so many together?
You stepped back, watching their every move. A million thoughts and ideas rushed through your mind. Should you run? Can you even run? 
The mages laughed gleefully as they turned their wands in the air, and you were readying to run away when a tall figure seemed to materialize between you and the enemies. Without haste, he quickly eliminated them before you could even recognize who he was, the mages cries of defeat making you pity the poor things a bit. Your savior was ruthless, beating them so terribly that you were sure they’d never set foot (or teleport?) here again.
After he sheathed his sword, he turned to face you, keeping his distance. “Are you hurt?” He asked nonchalantly. 
"You're the strange guy from the bar," you realized, avoiding his question. Not intentionally, of course, but out of pure shock. Of course, you knew that he wasn’t an ordinary traveler, but he seemed to be crazy strong.
He walked towards you and grabbed your arm, turning it over and inspecting it, then checking the other.
You blushed and pulled away. “Hey, I’m fine! You got here just in time before anything happened. Thank you for saving me.”
He nodded in response. You rubbed your arms as he continued to look at you, not believing your reply regarding your well being. You turned to continue your journey home, raising your hand in the air to wave and calling back with one more expression of gratitude.
“Shall I walk you home?” You heard his voice call behind you.
You hesitated. Was it safe to trust this guy? Lead him right to your house where you lived alone and could barely defend yourself if he had terrible intentions? Or, were there more mages waiting for their enemy to leave you alone so they could pounce once more? “I’d appreciate it,” you said.
You two walked on opposite sides of the path. You tried to hide it, but you were jumping at every noise. That encounter had scared you a lot more than you thought. Something about those mages was much more frightening than a pack of hilichurls. The stranger noticed you turning your head to watch your surroundings and moved closer to assure you that you were safe.
“What’s your name?” You asked. Walking in silence was pretty awkward and you still had a bit of a way to go before you arrived at your house.
“Dainsleif,” he replied quickly. “And you?”
You mouthed his name to yourself. “I’m (y/n).”
Dainsleif nodded and kept quiet. He didn’t seem to be much of a conversationalist. You were curious about him, however. His long cape draped behind him as he walked, and he held himself as confident and gracefully as a prince. Who was he, exactly?
You stared at him for a moment before speaking up again. “Where have you been staying? I can tell you aren’t a resident of Mondstadt. Have you been staying at an inn?”
“I’ve been camping. I needn’t stay at an inn when I’ll only be in the city for a short while,” Dainsleif replied.
You scoffed. “You’ve been coming to the bar for almost a month now. I think at that point renting a place to stay would be suitable.”
He didn’t seem to react. “It’s hard to predict when my duty here will be finished.”
Soon enough, you arrived at your house. You unlocked the front door and turned to him once more to say goodbye. “Thank you, Dainsleif,” you said. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”
“There’s no need,” he replied. “It was a part of my job.”
You knew that if you let him walk away without adequately returning the favor that you would lay awake in bed, the guilt eating at you. “You’ve probably been eating campfire meals, right? Come on, I can make you a big dinner. How does that sound?”
Dainsleif adjusted the glove on his left hand, debating your offer. “I suppose, if you insist.”
You quickly lit the fireplace and prepared the stove. Dainsleif stood awkwardly at the door, watching you walk back and forth through the kitchen as you gathered ingredients.
“You can sit down, you know. Kick off your shoes, take off your coat, relax on the couch. Make yourself at home,” you said.
He opted for sitting at the dining table, hanging his coat over the backrest of the chair. There was little to no conversation as you prepared dinner. Glancing over to him, you watched him look at you, stare at the decorations around the house, or twiddle his fingers as he waited patiently.
What an awkward guy! You remarked to yourself. It was almost alluring, though, and you questioned whether he was like this to everyone or only strangers.
You finished making dinner and doled some creamy soup into a bowl for him. After pouring some for yourself, you placed the bowls at the table. You sat on the other side from him, consciously trying to keep your legs close so you wouldn’t impose on his personal leg space under the table.
Dainsleif didn’t remove his gloves as he ate, which you found odd, but you didn’t want to impose or prod in case it was a touchy subject. You were curious about a few other things, however.
“So, what’s your job here that you mentioned? You said saving me before was a part of it?”
He sipped from his spoon and politely dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Those Abyss mages… I’m sure you realize it’s strange for them to be in this area, yes?”
You nodded.
“I’ve been trying to track them down, and it seems they’ve been drawn to something in this region. It’s strange that they decided to attack you, however. I was watching from afar and I could tell you did nothing to instigate them,” he said.
“You were watching me, huh?” You teased.
He looked down at his bowl and began to eat once more, ignoring your remark. Once he finished, he sat back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh.
“Want some more? There’s plenty left over.”
He met your gaze, an appreciative look in his eyes. “Yes, thank you.”
Dainsleif ate the second bowl as fast as the first, and you offered to get him another one but he politely declined. You made a note to offer him some to take with him when he decided to leave.
Not wanting to overstay his welcome, you assumed, he stood up and grabbed his coat. “I really appreciate the food and hospitality,” he said.
“No problem at all!” You replied. “I only wanted to return the favor for saving me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
He gave you a small nod and began to put on his coat.
“Um, listen…” You said. “You can stay the night, if you’d like. I have a spare room with a nice bed and everything. I don’t want you to have to sleep out in the cold. If you’re worried about pushing boundaries, don’t be. I’m more than happy to provide you with anything you need.”
He opened his mouth and you could tell he was going to decline, but he pondered on the offer. “Well…” He rubbed his chin. He looked up at you once more, as if to see if he could find any hint of obligation on your face, but he knew you meant the offer wholeheartedly. “If it really isn’t a bother. Thank you.”
He sat on the couch this time, although he sat stiffly. You almost felt like you pressured him into staying, but it was more likely that he was just hesitant about being offered things, one of those kinds of people. You opened a bottle of wine, figuring it was too early for either of you to head to bed. Maybe some alcohol would lighten the mood.
You sat beside him, giving him enough room so that it wasn’t too awkward. He swirled the drink around the glass before sipping it, giving you a nod as thanks.
The conversation didn’t get too deep, but questions were shot back and forth at each other, you prompting them more often than him.
“Where are you from?” You asked.
“Somewhere that you definitely would not have known about unless you’re a scholar, let’s just say… and you?”
“Always been here in Mondstadt … How old are you?”
“I can’t answer most of these as a normal person would. What about you?”
“Old enough.”
Dainsleif was very, very strange. He didn’t seem to like revealing anything about himself, but when he did it made no sense at all or was too vague to even get an inkling of what he was even saying.
The more glasses you poured, the more you realized you were staring. The details of his outfit were beautiful, surely very expensive. His cologne was dignified and pleasant to smell, much unlike other men who often doused themselves. He had captivating features, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he wore the mask while still showing his right eye.
He seemed to be feeling the effects of the drinks too. His posture was much more relaxed, a pinkish tint adorning his face. You noticed you were sitting much closer to him than before.
The side of his hand pressed against your thigh, and you suddenly remembered the daydreams you would have about him as you were on shift, like a child thinking about their crush that they had never once spoken to.
“You seem to love to stare. Do you do that with all your customers at the bar?”
You felt your face heat up and turned away, pretending there was something very interesting on the bare wall. “It’s not everyday that such a strange man like yourself walks in.”
“Strange? You think I’m strange?” His hand moved to hold onto your knee, and you leaned closer against his arm.
“Normal Mondstadt people don’t wear a mask to the bar, or a big gaudy cape,” you said. Your plan to encourage conversation with wine seemed to work, but it was taking a much flirtier turn than you expected. It wasn’t like you were opposed to this scenario though…
“Ah, you think I’m gaudy too?” He squeezed your knee and a warm spark traveled through your arms and up your back. He chuckled, his deep voice making your heart skip.
“I like it, though.” You wrapped your arm around his bicep. “It’s very eye-catching… A nice change of pace compared to the usual customers I see.”
Dainsleif slowly began to drag his hand up your thigh as he finished off his glass. You leaned in closer to him, encouraging his touch. Everything felt warm, with the alcohol in your system, the heat of the fireplace, and his large hand squeezing at your flesh.
The next moments were a haze; his gloved hand was suddenly under your chin, gentle kisses lining your lips and the corners of your mouth.
Your hand traced his collarbone and neck; your fingers following the thick, dark blue veined pattern raised from his skin.
You slowly pulled away from him, interrupting his string of kisses. He let out a huff, the smell of rich wine on his breath. Sliding off of the couch, you balanced on your knees in front of him, resting your head on his lap and hooking a finger through his belt loop playfully.
He looked down at you with a small smile, eyes half closed. “Where was this confidence when we were walking home earlier, hm?”
“I would say that these are entirely different situations,” you slurred. Dainsleif placed a hand over yours and led your hand to rest on his thigh while he undid his belt. He placed it to the side and began to work the zipper of his pants.
He adjusted his position so that his pants were lower on his hips. It was so, so tempting to go at it right away as you gazed at his growing erection under his briefs. You decided that teasing such a stony-faced man and watching his reaction shift to that of one trying to hold back his expressions (and failing to do so) would be much more satisfying.
You brought a hand to his clothed cock, tracing the outline with your fingers, feeling the bulge grow with each touch. Dainsleif let out a sigh, placing his hand on your head and beginning to stroke your hair.
Time seemed to be so, so slow, and you wondered if he was feeling the same way. He didn’t seem to be hurrying you. That is, until he brought his hand to your cheek and lifted your head to make eye contact with him.
“Now, if you’re going to go this slow I’ll have to take matters into my own hands,” he mumbled. His words sent a rush to your groin and you squeezed your legs tight as a reflex. Would it be so bad if he took the reins?
You fingered at the waistband of his underwear and he lifted his hips so you could lower it. His cock, although not fully hard yet, twitched in anticipation as you let out a shaky breath and brought your mouth closer. Your fingers clasped around the shaft and you pumped a few times, looking up at him to gauge his reaction. Just as serious as ever, but the corners of his mouth were upturned in a curt smile.
You wet your lips with your tongue and slowly kissed the tip before bringing it past your lips and dragging your tongue along it. You could feel it thicken in your hand as he let out a deep sigh above you. His fingers ran through your hair, encouraging you to keep going.
Focusing the tip, you felt your saliva pool on your tongue as you took him further in your mouth with a moan. You took your time, sucking gently and slowly as you lowered your head down. Before you bottomed out, you took it out of your mouth with a pop and held it against your cheek, looking up at him once more, craving some kind of verbal response from him.
Even better, however, was that he tightened his fingers around the clump of your hair in his grasp. You let out a harsh breath, moving your thumb to gently press against his balls and bringing his cock back into your mouth. Despite the warning tugging at your scalp, you once again went down with a slow pace, taking in his musky taste and feeling his skin twitch against your tongue.
Dainsleif clicked his tongue above you and began to exert pressure on your head, pushing you down his shaft. Your stomach reflexed as his tip nudged the back of your throat. You could feel a warm heat gather at your crotch, twitching at how rough he was with you, his actions demanding you to get at it already.
Pumping at his cock with your hand as you pulled your head back, you increased your pace, feeling the outline of a vein brushing against your tongue. His hand on the back of your head guided your movements, pushing you down onto his dick until it jabbed your throat and the pulling of your hair bringing your lips to his tip again.
Sticky precum settled at the roof of your mouth and back of your tongue, but you had no chance to swallow with the pace he settled on. Your lungs fluttered as they took quick breaths, your legs getting shaky and barely able to hold yourself up as you fought against your gag reflex.
Sighs of satisfaction came from Dainsleif, and you moved your hand to grasp his pant leg as he began to move his hips to match his rhythm. You could feel tears gather at your eyes as he fucked into your mouth and your nose began to run, but the thought of him using you like this to get himself off turned you on beyond imagination.
An especially rough thrust forced a groan from you and he pulled you up, a line of drool trailing from his cock and your tongue. You took deep breaths as he finally gave you a chance to and his hand moved to cupped your cheek.
“Please tell me if I’m being rough with you, alright?” He reassured.
You simply nodded. It hurt, and you could already feel how bruised your throat was from his thrusting every time you swallowed, but just having him fuck up into your mouth and hold you in place made your groin ache with need for release. You brought a hand into your pants to palm yourself, rubbing at your sensitive point and leaning in close to Dainsleif’s cock once more.
While you touched yourself with one hand, the other moved to wrap around his shaft again and you went back down onto his dick, going at a faster pace than you initiated before. You and your throat were much more accustomed to his length, especially since he wasn’t forcing you down onto it as rough as before.
“Perfect. You’re so good, doing so good (y/n),” he praised, his sentence ending with a large huff. You felt yourself get even closer to finishing just from his encouraging words. Glancing up at him for a moment, you noticed him biting his bottom lip and he watched you obediently suck him off.
Matching the speed of your own hand working yourself to an orgasm to the bobbing of your head, you felt your thighs strain and tense as you quickly approached it. After a particularly deep thrust, you came all over your hand and a heavy moan forced the air out of your lungs.
The vibration of your vocal orgasm caused Dainsleif to groan, louder than any of the noises he had previously made. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue and his fingers tightened in your hair as he pushed you down his shaft, your nose brushing against the trail of hair on his front.
The hot wave of cum coated your tongue, the bitter taste causing you to reflexively swallow. Dainsleif held your head in place as he released his load into you, then slowly guided you off of his cock. A mixture of spit and cum dribbled down your chin, and you unceremoniously wiped it off with your forearm.
When you finally sat down on the carpet in front of him, you realized how sore your legs felt. You took deep breaths, eyes barely open. You sniffled, the tearing up from gagging causing your nose to get stuffy. Your mouth and throat felt sticky with the remnants of cum.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Who would’ve thought this is how we would end up tonight?” Once Dainsleif caught his breath, he pulled up his pants and moved to sit at the edge of the couch. He cupped your chin and titled it so you’d look into his eyes.
“Let me get you cleaned up, alright?”
The two of you entered the shower. You were exhausted, leaning into his body as he carefully brought a washcloth to your groin to wash off your own cum, then lathering up his hands with soap to clean off your chin and wherever else your spit managed to drip onto.
With gentle touches that contrasted the rough grasps he gave you before, he ran the soap through your hair, washing it and massaging your scalp.
You were almost too tired and too drunk to realize, but he had removed his mask and gloves. The veinlike patterns that trailed his neck reached up to his cheek, branching out and fading at the tips. His hands had the same marking, except much more abundant. You stared at them; you had never seen anything like it before. You wondered where he got them from, but you knew that if you asked he would provide no clear answer.
He led you to your bed, then gathered both yours and his clothing. You offered to show him how to start the washing machine but he waved you off. “It’s alright. I can manage,” he replied. “You get warmed up under the covers.”
While you awaited his return, you felt yourself falling asleep. You could fight it no longer, and only woke up partially as you felt Dainsleif slip under the blanket with you and wrap his arms around you.
The morning sunlight shone through your window, and you brought your hands up to shield your eyes and rub the sleep out of them. Rolling over to face the other way, you suddenly remembered what occurred last night, realizing that your guest wasn’t in the bed with you.
Groaning, you got up from the bed, using a blanket to cover yourself. “Dainsleif?” You called as you looked outside of your bedroom towards the dining room. You saw a piece of paper lying on the table and walked over to see what it was.
Slanted handwriting lined the paper, and you sighed after reading it.
“Thank you for the meal and bed, (y/n). I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon. I’ll be awaiting our reunion. I hope you enjoy your breakfast.”
He signed it off with an elegant signature, very fitting for his personality.
On the counter top, you noticed he had left you some ripe sunsettias.
Who knew when the mysterious Dainsleif would return to you?
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downbad4yoongi · 11 months
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Closer
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For @bangtanwritershq June Big 3 Event:
pairing: Namjoon x Jimin
WC: 2571
au/genre: mutual pining, fluff, smut,
rating: MA
Tags/Inclusions: fountains, praise, outdoor sex
My big 3: sun (Capricorn) - member(s): minimoni, moon (aries) - where/how you (or they) met: dinner in Rome, rising (Gemini) - cliche trope: mutual pining
Thank you to @colormepurplex2, @moonleeai, and @heathfritillary-blog for betaing for me. Thank you @hisunshiine for the banner! <3
“I didn’t know you became telepathic?” 
Jimin jolts upright from his slouched position against the bar, his booted foot thudding hard on the tile as he straightens up.
He glances confused over his shoulder at his uncle, “What?”
“You’re staring at that boy. I figured you were reading his mind to take his order.”
Heat flushes up his neck and cheeks, “I–I was not staring!”
His uncle shoots him a withering look, “Boy, you were staring so hard I’m surprised he couldn’t feel it.”
Jimin huffs, snatching his server pad off the counter. He spins on his heel and heads out onto the restaurant floor. For the past few summers, Jimin has been spending time in Rome, enjoying time off school and working at his Uncle Kyubok’s trattoria.  He enjoys the more straightforward, slower time of Rome in the summer. However, this summer has been delightful, a feast for his eyes, ever since a tall Korean man stumbled into the eatery.
There are very few Koreans roaming around Rome. So, this one has caught Jimin’s attention. If his nationality wasn't enough, he would have surely noticed him due to his height. The customer is tall but not tall enough to be intimidating. His size pairs well with his demeanor. The stranger is pensive; Jimin has startled him from his deep thought several times this summer as he has enjoyed various delicacies. 
Even now, the man sits forward with his chin propped on a giant fist, deep in contemplation. Jimin approaches from behind, enjoying the broad spread of his shoulders under the stretch of the man’s thin cotton t-shirt paired with dark denim shorts and open-toed sandals. 
Damn, his legs go on for days. Jimin admires them the most when he wears shorts, exposing his thick thighs. 
Jimin gives a little shake of his head, snapping out of his ogling. He braces himself as he approaches the table, sure that this will be another incident of him accidentally startling the man. He steps into the customer’s line of sight with a bright smile pasted on. “Would you like another coffee? Perhaps some dessert?”
Like clockwork, the man’s shoulders jerk roughly, the movement is enough to jolt the small table he is sitting at. As much as Jimin tries, he cannot stifle the giggle that manages to escape him.
The man’s deep, dark eyes snap to him as his cheeks flush a light red. “What? What’s so funny?”
Jimin purses his lips, swallowing the remaining laughter before answering, “I’m sorry but you are. I don’t mean to be rude, but this is probably the fifth time this has happened over the past few weeks.”
The man huffs, “Well, maybe make more noise as you approach, and this wouldn’t happen.”
Jimin’s brow flies into his hair, “You’re in a trattoria. You should expect servers to approach you pretty regularly. It’s kind of part of the deal.”
The stranger flounders, failing to come up with a good retort. “Yeah. Um, I guess you are right.”
“What’s your deal anyway?”
The man’s brow furrows, unsure if he should take offense, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you always lost in thought? You’ve been coming here for weeks and constantly staring off into the abyss.”
“Oh,” the man’s cheeks flush an even deeper red, “I am just still processing the art I finished viewing at one of the local museums.”
“Are you an art critic or something?”
“Or something,” he muses, “I’m an Art History student studying abroad. I’ve been visiting different museums to soak in the culture.”
Jimin hums under his breath, “I’m not even surprised. That totally fits your overall vibe.”
“I have a vibe?”
“Oh, definitely.” Jimin exudes confidence as he utters the statement with finality.
“Are you going to share what that vibe is?”
Jimins lips quirk up on the edges, “Sure, why not? Can I get a name first, though?”
“Namjoon.”
“Well, Namjoon, your vibe is definitely an old soul philosopher. Quite Descartes-like.” Jimin taps his notepad against his palm. “You constantly give off ‘I’m contemplating the meaning of life’ vibes.”
“Well, um–”
“Jimin.”
Namjoon tips his head toward him. “Well, Jimin, I want to be offended, but I can’t disagree for some reason. I do tend to contemplate a lot the meanings behind things, words, movements…” He trails off, waffling his hand in the air as he sits back. Namjoon’s thoughts scatter as the most captivating giggle tinkles through the air. Warmth spreads through his chest as Jimin covers his mouth with his pad, the server’s eyes morphing into crescents. Namjoon swipes his tongue across his lip, “What? What’s so funny?”
Jimin shrugs a shoulder and shakes his head. “Nothing at all. You seem very intelligent. Wish I could stay and talk more, but as you can see—” he motions to the eatery around him, “I’m rather busy.”.
“Oh, yeah.” Namjoon picks up the hint, “Right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” he glances down at his menu before pointing at something randomly to order, “I’ll have this.”
Jimin quickly jots it down and, with a slight bow, takes his leave. 
Despite the numerous places Namjoon had planned to check out during his time in Rome, he finds himself returning to the same local trattoria around the same time each day. All in hopes of interacting with the handsome server who has managed to draw him out of his shell. These interactions have quickly become a highlight of his experience, and he finds himself greedy for more. And now he has a name,  Jimin. 
Namjoon walks into the trattoria, unusually busy at this time of day, and snags a table just as a couple vacates. It hasn’t been bussed yet, but he doesn’t mind. He quickly gathers the dishes into a small pile to one side and waits to see Jimin again.
It’s not long before Jimin pushes out of the swinging kitchen door, his arms laden with food. He watches Jimin’s eyes sweep the space pausing on him when he notices the new guest. Jimin’s smile causes Namjoon’s lips to raise upward in greeting.
It takes a bit of time, but Jimin is finally able to make his way over to Namjoon’s table, which has since been cleared of the dirty dishes, and a fresh carafe of water has been delivered.
“Wow! So sorry about that. We got this sudden rush, and of course, today two of our staff are out,” Jimin gushes as he stands over Namjoon, who for once wasn’t startled at his approach.
Namjoon waves his hand, brushing the other man’s words off. “It’s alright. The wait wasn’t too bad.”
“Yes, it was, but I appreciate the lie.”
Namjoon laughs, the laughter growing as Jimiin mirrors his joy with his own giggle. Jimin grips the back of the chair across from Namjoon, but another guest catches his eye and waves him over. Jimin can’t hold back the sigh that escapes him. 
Before Jimin can apologize again, Namjoon interjects, “It’s alright. I’ll just have my usual. Go and help the other customer, he seems very insistent.”
With a grateful smile, Jimin heads off to see what the man needs. Unfortunately for both of them, Jimin is kept occupied for the remainder of Namjoon’s meal time, and before they know it, Namjoon is getting ready to leave. 
Jimin turns the corner and sees Namjoon standing, pulling bills from his wallet to leave on the table for his meal. Namjoon looks up just in time to see Jimin’s face fall as he rushes over.
“You’re leaving already?”
The taller man nods, “Yeah. I have a couple of tours I scheduled, and I need to head out.”
“We barely got to talk today,” Jimin pouts.
“Well, actually…” Namjoon trails off, ducking his head before taking a deep breath and pushing on, “Would you want to meet up outside of your uncle’s trattoria? Maybe enjoy a meal together?”
Jimin’s brows fly into his hairline, “Like a date?”
Namjoon blushes as he rocks on his heels, “Yeah, like a date.”
Jimin’s grin is blinding, “Definitely.”
Jimin walks along the cobbled pathway to the ristorante, where he told Namjoon to meet him. It’s one his close friend became obsessed with when he visited last summer; the restaurant specializes in fresh pasta and seafood dishes, which is a place Jimin is excited to share with Namjoon.
The heels of Jimin’s boots slow to a stop as they near the entrance when he sees Namjoon loitering nearby. He runs this lip through his teeth as he smooths his hands down the front of his dark green shirt tucked into a crisp pair of black jeans. 
Jimin is feeling confident in the style options he chose for tonight. His self-assurance was buoyed by the color tones he chose that perfectly complemented his chestnut locks and gold-toned jewelry. He admires that Namjoon picked similar options that highlight his best features.
Namjoon is leaning against a light pole out front of the ristorante, and he’s dressed in a park of dark denim pants with brown boots and a casual beige blazer over a crisp, white shirt. Jimin can’t help biting his lower lip as he takes in the wide width of the man in front of him; the blazer is doing everything in its power to get him on his knees and beg Namjoon for mercy. 
Unfortunately, Jimin’s heel snags a loose stone alerting Namjoon to his admirer’s presence, cutting his ogling session short. 
Namjoon’s face lights up when he sees Jimin. Jimin notices the tall man’s gaze rake over him from head to toe and back again. He can’t suppress the confidence boost blooming within at the involuntary sound of appreciation that echoes from the cavern of Namjoon’s broad chest.
“Hi, sorry I’m late.” Jimin initiates closing the distance between them, leaving only a hair's breadth of separation between their chests.
Namjoon shakes his head emphatically, “Late? You’re not late at all. I was anxiously early.” The pink tinge of his cheeks expands to envelope his neck as he ducks his head.
“Anxious?”
“How could I not be? I’m meeting the man I’ve been secretly admiring for weeks for dinner, and finally, it's without the distraction of other diners.”
Now, it’s Jimin’s turn to duck his head in embarrassment. “I’m not even sure how to real– I don’t know how to respond to that adequately, but just know the feeling is mutual.”
Namjoon’s plump lips spread into an ear-splitting grin, “I’ll take it!” He jerks his head toward the lit entrance, “Want to head inside?”
Jimin bobs his head bashfully and allows himself to be pulled along once Namjoon gathers his smaller digits in his much larger grasp.
With dedicated time to focus on each other, dinner flies by in a flurry of porcelain plates ladened with delicious food and glasses of wine. As the bill is being settled, Jimin suggests a walk through the surrounding area. Namjoon eagerly agrees, scooping Jimin's hand snuggly into his as they head back into the crisp night air.
Settling alongside each other, they enjoy the other's presence and the gentle noise of the evening. Jimin knocks his head against the taller man's shoulder, "Did you know Rome is home to over 2,000 Fountains? "
"Oddly enough, I did," Namjoon answers sheepishly.
Jimin giggles, "Oh yes, how could I forget you're the man with an encyclopedia of useless knowledge for a brain."
Namjoon balks, his cheeks tinging a deep pink. He's quick to regain his wits, though. "Hey, it was this encyclopedic brain that drew you in."
"Touché." Jimin leans into Namjoon, his other hand grabbing the man's thick bicep. "There's an adorable alcove near here with one of my favorite fountains. Want to check it out?"
"Lead the way, my kind sir." Namjoon grins proudly when that earns a peal of giggles from Jimin.
Gripping Namjoon's hand tighter, Jimin guides the pair down a few more winding streets. Moments later, they can hear the tinkling water before the alcove, set aside away from foot traffic, comes into sight. Namjoon is immediately able to understand why this is Jimin's favorite.
The fountain itself is moderate in size and relatively simple in design. The area surrounding the pool of water steals Namjoon's breath. A serene garden is spread out around them, lush greenery and delicate flowers are abundant. The pleasant slice of peace is surrounded by a ring of trees that creates the perfect halo to highlight the bright full moon above.
"Voíla!" Jimin announces. 
"Wow! This is indescribably beautiful, Jimin." Namjoon circles around the fountain and looks closely at some nearby plants. He glances up, and his breath is stolen once again by the gorgeous man before him.
The light of the moon perfectly highlights the graces of Jimin's visage. Namjoon can’t help but be drawn back to the side of the man he’s been adoring for several weeks. Standing this close, Namjoon can only barely hold back a weak moan by biting his lip. He wants every moment of this ingrained into his memory forever.
Namjoon may not have been as silent as he had hoped, as Jimin startles when he finally notices how close the other man has returned to stand beside him. He jerks back in surprise, and Namjoon’s firm grip flashes out to grasp his upper arm and prevents him from stumbling any further,
A breathy, “Thanks,” leaves Jimins lips right before Namjoon’s own plush lips crash against his. They cling to each other as lips parts, tongues tangle, and breaths exchange places. Jimin can feel nothing and everything all at once; he feels ecstatic and floating in the aether while simultaneously feeling the individual grip of every finger as he clutches Namjoon’s broad shoulders. 
Shadow and light intertwine as their own limbs find similar paths to weave them tighter together. Sanity and space fail to intervene as they claw at each other, fingers unfastening pants and tugging turgid cocks free of their confines. 
Desperate pants of air fill the space between them as they cede control to each other in a fraught plea to be closer. Agonized moans are torn from throats as Namjoon’s giant fist encircles both of them, providing them with needed relief.
Jimin tears his lips from the other man’s, his head falling to Namjoon’s shoulder with a sob as short, firm jerks of his cock send him further spiraling into delirium. 
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” Jimin whimpers with each catch of his glans against that of his lover’s. “More, fuck more!” Jimin begs feverishly.
Namjoon grunts, snapping his hips to increase the friction as his grip tightens around their lengths. His lips mouth Jimin’s ear as his free hand manipulates the diminutive man’s heavy sac, applying just the right amount of pressure. 
Breaths pass before Jimin tosses his head back and cries out into the open air, “Yesssss!” His hips jerk as he comes fast and hard, spilling across Namjoon’s pumping fist.
“That’s it, baby, yes, come for me,” Namjoon encourages, his movements speeding up as he chases his own completion, which comes within moments of Jimin’s and joins the stickiness already coating his hand.
They collapse against each other, panting. Thrills of pleasure randomly spike through them as they come down from their mutual high.
It’s Jimin who finally breaks the quiet with a soft laugh, “Imagine what could have happened if we had gotten out of our own way sooner?”
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one-boring-person · 9 months
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The Somnambulist* and The Oneiromancer**.
A/n: So this is the first piece of non-fanfiction work that I'm uploading on here, so I hope those of you who read it will enjoy it☺️ this particular piece is more horror-based 👍😁
Content Warning: Death, injury detail, some delusion, swearing
!The italicised and non italicised parts mark different POVs, hence the differing uses of personal and impersonal pronouns! If this is hard to read, let me know and I will change the colours or something instead.
This is my own original work! Please do not repost or publish elsewhere! Reblogging is fine should you want to, encouraged even, but please do not repost!
It should strike me odd that the house is silent. Empty and silent. A place so familiar to me, so utterly different, it almost seems foreign. An inky shadow cloaks the depths of the building, shrouding the rooms outside the hallway in an impenetrable blackness. It’s eerie how little I can see of my own home, though I could easily map it out if I really wanted to. Each detail is branded into my mind, usually comforting in its familiarity. Now, however, I feel a shiver crawl down my spine, taking its time etching unease into my very being as I stare into the abyss that was once my family home. 
Unsure of what to do, I remain frozen in place, eyes flitting from place to place, trying to make something out in the all-encompassing shadows. Behind me is the front door, though I don’t remember entering through it; something inside me keeps me from turning and leaving through it, too. Every instinct inside me burns at the idea, as if doing so might leave me at the mercy of some hidden creature, lurking in the orifices of the house. Apprehension floods me at the thought, my pulse skipping into a faster rhythm as fear bites at my chest. 
Its fangs sink deep into me as a sudden scream tears through the thick silence, a scream so visceral it releases hot, blazing adrenaline into my veins, my heart pounding in my chest, hellbent on getting out of its cage. 
My breath catches in my throat, my eyes wide. The voice is familiar - horrifyingly so - but it must be my imagination. Surely there is no one in this hellhole other than me?
Any doubt I had is quashed as another cry echoes through the deserted hall, this time far more distinct. I feel my heart skip a beat as I realise what I heard - an agonised call of my name in my partner’s voice. 
Without another thought, I spur myself into action.
A creak somewhere downstairs brings Till back to reality. 
Frowning, he looks up from the book in his lap, turning his head towards the door to the room, which remains closed. 
“Max? Is that you?” He calls out, listening for his boyfriend’s response.
When silence ensues, Till’s frown deepens, only to relax again as he realises it must’ve been Spider, the couple’s skittish cat. He’d left Max lying on the sofa, fast asleep after a hard day at work, still in his uniform, his service belt slung over the back of a kitchen chair nearby, soft snores drifting from the policeman’s gaping mouth. Unwilling to wake him and unable to carry him, Till had left the man there, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before going upstairs to their shared bedroom. 
Sighing, he turns back to his book, skimming the page for the moment he left off. Finding it, he returns to his reading, only to look up moments later at the sudden sound of footsteps racing through the house.
The shadows seem to rear back around me as I charge through them, tripping over my feet on my way up to the top floor. By now, I have my service revolver in my hand, cocked and ready to use, drawn from my belt, which I still seem to be wearing. Panic simmers dimly in my head, held back only by my fear for what I am to find when I reach the room. I know the scream has come from. Reaching the door, I waste no time in driving my booted foot hard into the frail wood, sending it bouncing back against the wall. 
Instantly, I have my gun lifted and poised, ready to shoot, my eyes scanning the room to assess the threat. 
“Max, what the fuck?!” 
Lying prone on the bed is Till, his skin deathly pale, completely unmoving, his eyes wide and staring glassily at the ceiling. Ignoring the agonising pang that shoots through me at the sight of my partner dead in the bed we’ve shared for years, I turn my focus to the hulking beast crouched over him, its fangs buried deep into the frail neck of the dead man beneath it. 
I don’t have time to hesitate. My finger closes on the trigger.
“MAX, NO! STO-” 
Bullets tear into the back of the beast on the bed, sending crimson spurting out onto the decorated bed sheets Till had picked out for us, hot and thick as it makes contact with the cool night air. As I watch, however, the creature seems to fade from existence, its carcass shimmering until it is no more - a phantom of my imagination, leaving behind Till’s corpse. 
Going closer, I feel a sinking weight drop into my stomach, bile rising to my throat as I see the scattered bullet holes torn into his bare chest. Somewhere behind me, a laugh, cruel and mirthless, echoes from the shadows and I instantly know what has happened. 
Max’s eyes open in time to see the light fade from Till’s. 
For a moment, all he can do is stare and blink, not quite able to process what he sees and what he knows has happened. It doesn’t last long, rage igniting alongside deep-seated grief within him, his fist clenching around the handle of his gun, which still lingers in his grasp. He doesn’t turn around as that same laugh sounds again, grating in his ears, the sound of footsteps approaching slowly from behind him only adding fire to his fury.
“What a monster you have become, Max.” A smoothe, accentless voice purrs in his ear, a presence appearing at his back, “It becomes you, you know.”
“Fuck you.” Max snarls, refusing to look at his perpetrator. 
Another chuckle weasels its way into his ears.
“No need to be vulgar,” The oneiromancer scolds gently, “I was only complimenting you.”
“I don’t want your compliments.”
“Shame. I have many more.”
Max fights back the urge to turn on the man behind him, instead going to Till’s side, smoothing back blood-soaked hair from his fearful face.
“I must say, that worked far better than I expected it would.” The oneiromancer muses, coming up behind Max once more, much to his distaste, placing a gentle hand on the man’s head, “ I daresay I have use of you yet.”
A single word is uttered, and Max feels his eyes shut once more, his consciousness fleeing before a tide of darkness. 
* = One who sleepwalks
** One who deals in dreams
15 notes · View notes
hackerqueen · 2 years
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"Favorite crime"
pairing : MWAF!JakexMC
summary : When MC went to meet Michael Hanson at Ironsplinter Mine, she was expecting everything. Everything except that behind the killer mask was hidden someone she loved.
His ocean eyes was the abyss. And even though it was a huge bottomless abyss, I wanted to sink into it forever.
warnings❗: stockholm syndrome, absolutely unhealthy, toxic relationship, blood, slightly dominant Jake, some hot and spicy stuff
autor's note: i hope you will like it! i do not support or romanticize these types of relationships❗ english is not my first language:)
MC : Jake
MC : I love you
Jake : I love you too, MC.
These messages followed me all the way to the iron mine by car. After quite long argument, Jake finally relented and agreed to my meeting with Michael. Was I stressed? A bit. I didn't know whether to call myself brave or stupid. What was the probability that the kidnapper and killer would keep his promise? I think very slight. But the vision of free Hannah and the end of this whole nightmare was too tempting. Even though I was afraid that when this was all over Jake would find me unnecessary and leave me.
I took a deep breath, pushing away the intrusive thoughts, and parked my car. As I stepped out of the car, I felt the August air and the summer evening wind brush my bare shoulders. I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and punched in a message saying I'm in place, which I sent to the group.
I sighed softly and started walking because there was still a long way to go. I tried to chase away any dark scenarios that tried to control my mind. My fear increased even more as I saw the silhouette of a man in the distance. My heart began to beat an unnaturally fast pace and my palms began to sweat. I held my breath, try to make as little noise as possible with my steps. When we were really close, and the man still had his back to me, I took out my phone and decided to text Jake.
MC: I'm already here. Michael has his back to me, I don't know what I should do now.
I jumped when after clicking 'send' something vibrated in the pocket of the man standing a few steps in front of me.I opened my eyes slightly, not understanding what was happening. My lungs burned with living fire from uneven breathing.
Man slowly took the phone out of his pocket, then clicked something a few times.
Jake is online
What the actual fuck? I didn't understand what was happening. Why did Michael access Jake's application? Unless it's Jak- .. No. I had pushed that possibility out of my brain for once.
— If I were you, I'd run away. — He said in a deep, low tone that sent shivers down my spine
The mystery man turned, and I saw the face of a young boy with raven hair and sparkling ocean eyes. I swallowed hard and shook my head. My brain couldn't digest this information. Jake couldn't be the kidnapper.
— It's a joke? — I asked, and my voice almost broke. — Great, but Jake we have no time for such jokes. Actually, when do you get this humor? You were always the serious one of the two of us.
I put my arms around myself, waited for his answer. I met his eyes as he gently tilted his head and bit his lower lip. What is he playing?
— The problem is, I'm not kidding. — he replied, and I felt my heart change into a ten-ton boulder that pulls me to the very bottom
— Jake, stop. I do not want to listen to this. — I said while my hand tangled in my hair, tugging hard on it. My thoughts were like one big chaos. A thousand thoughts rushed through my head at once, and all I wanted at that moment was a silence to soothe the growing wound that was starting to bleed. — Tell me it's a lie. Say it!
I did not register that the boy came closer to me. Now he could easily grab me and drag me into the mine. I found the courage to look up and transfer it to his face. An icy stare cast lightning at me. But despite his sinister gaze, I felt no fear. The depth of his gaze engulfed me completely, and at that moment I felt myself drowning in his blue shade. I was so naive. So stupid. How could I believe anything for a person like Jake?
— I kidnapped her, MC. I kidnapped Hannah.
— And Amy? Richy? Why did you kill them?! — I yelled right in his face and immediately regretted it
Jake clenched his jaw and quickly grabbed my wrists while his other hand poked the syringe into my neck. I twisted my face slightly, then felt unmerciful exhaustion. I slowly started sliding to the ground, but Jake wouldn't let me fall. He picked me up and the last thing I remembered was his fingers on my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear.
— I guess this is a lesson in not trusting people, right? — he whispered straight into my ear
* * *
A loud bang woke me up. My head throbbed painfully. I couldn't hear my thoughts from the squeaking in my ears. I also felt immediately how numb my wrists were (which of course was due to the fact that they were tied with a rope). I barely looked up to meet the figure of Jake, who was pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. He looked like he was fighting himself. I swallowed hard, praying that his fight wasn't about torturing me or not.
— Are you want to kill me? — I asked, wincing at my scratching throat
The boy gave me a look. I felt the strength and power of his blue eyes shrink as he literally devoured me with his eyes. How fucked up am I if now instead of fear I felt a growing pressure from the bottom of my stomach?
I'm disgusting.
And that made me even more angry.
— I thought I could trust you! — I yelled hoarsely. I started to struggle with the rope that was preventing me from moving. — I hate you so much!
— How cute. Struggle all you want, you won't be leaving this place. — He growled at me, picking me up off the ground. I looked around, realizing we were probably in the middle of a mine. — Be good for me and I will untie you.
I narrowed my eyes, staring at his face. This is not how I imagined him. His chiseled face resembled a Greek god. He was so perfect. Deep blue eyes absorbed anyone who looked at them, and the lines of the jaw could cut through the paper. Black, messy hair begged to be pulled in certain situations.
A beautiful boy with such an ugly interior.
— They warned me about you. I should have listened. — I said with growing disgust to myself. Before that, I said I hate him. So why can't I believe it?
Hacker snorted contemptuously, and I felt something cold touch my forehead. I looked at the boy and then at the gun pointed at my head. We stood so close to each other that I could smell his perfume mixed with mint gum. I could feel his hot breath and was sure he could feel mine too. Jake ran the barrel of the pistol from my forehead, over my cheek and down to my neck. I was completely stunned by his presence. The tension between us grew steadily and I wondered how much longer I could hold on. How long will I hold back from pouncing on his lips.
Disgusting.
I felt his pressure on the gun increasing. As if he wanted to pierce my neck right through. Is it the end?
— If you want to kill me, do it. — I whispered looking at his eyes. I was a mess anyway. His eyes were still terribly cool. — Come on, do it!
— Are you a masochist, MC?
He didn't even know how much.
— I'm done saving myself. I'm sick of being there for everyone, when no one is with me, when I need someone. And now it turned out that the only person I fucking cared about is a fucking psycho. So if you kill me, you'll only do me a favor. — I admitted having had enough of his games
— Do you think I like hurting you? — He said, his hoarse voice making goose bumps all over my body
At that point, I wasn't sure about it, but I was sure I liked it more than it should have been.
— I do not know. I have no idea who you are, Jake. You lied to me all this time. Tell me, did you laugh when I confessed my feelings to you? Is it fun to find an idiot who can be manipulated like this? — I raised my voice again, feeling so angry. Angry with myself.
— That's right. I lied. I lied with so many things, but never lied about my feelings for you. — He whispered and finally lowered the gun. His hand went to my cheek. He ran his thumb across my bottom lip, causing something in my stomach to tip over. I clenched my jaw as I mentally fought the growing thirst.
I huffed mockingly.
— You think I'll believe it? You wrote to me that you care about me and five minutes later you called me and bully me! — I kicked, and he squeezed my arms tightly
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
— And you know what's the worst of it all? The worst part of all of this is that I still love you. And I hate myself for it. — I confessed looking at his eyes again. I let out a shuddering breath at his hungry eyes. —What have you done to me Jake?
The boy smiled indulgently. His cold hand slipped from my cheek and began to wander over my body. The heat between my legs kept increasing.
— I brought some adrenaline into your bore life, my angel. You were fascinated by darkness and mystery. — I felt his touch on my shoulder, the side of my breast — But don't worry, you have piqued my interest too. — his hand caressed my waist, and then my hips, which he gripped tightly — You were so.. fascinating.
— So naive. — He brought his face closer to mine and I tilted my neck back
— So devoted. — His nimble fingers unfastened the button on my jeans and my eyes rolled back
— So innocent. — He growled straight into my ear as his hand disappeared between my thighs and I groaned loudly
* *
I took a deep breath, leaning my head against the cold cave wall. The chill from this place cooled my warm body a little. The atmosphere between us was still hot and a bit tense. I tried to chase away thoughts about what had just happened, but I simply couldn't cope. How firm and dominant he was made my knees soften.
And let's not forget that he was also a government hacker who kidnaps and kills people in his spare time.
I felt dirty. So dirty.
I betrayed them. Jessy, Thomas, Dan, Cleo, Lilly.
Richy. And even Hannah.
So why didn't I feel bad about it at all?
— You are mine and I don't share. Don't ever fucking forget that.
A strong smell of tobacco reached my nostrils, which slightly quenched my raging thoughts. The boy across from me looked nothing like the person who tied me up with a rope and threatened me with a gun.I didn't see a sadist in him. Now he reminded me of a lost boy who needed to be looked after.
Or I was just telling myself to do so.
— Tell me. About everything. — I asked
Black-haired man took a drag on the cigarette and then let out the smoke with trembling lips.
— If you want to know if I enjoy killing people, I will disappoint your dark fantasy of being with a sociopathic murderer. When my life turned into a continuous escape and when I had no one with me, I felt no emotion. You know, I hated my father from an early age. He left my mom when she got pregnant, when she needed him the most. It was because of him that she fell ill and had to take medication. And ultimately it was because of him that she died. Her death was the height of my hatred for so many years. My mother was my whole world to me, which he took away from me. So I decided to take his world away from him as well, which of course was his older daughter. His suffering gave me satisfaction. I wanted him to lose his mind from pain. — He said, a dark smirk lurking on his lips — I didn't kill Amy. She committed suicide because she couldn't forgive herself for being involved in Jennifer's death. Richy showed himself to me on a plate. It was an impulse. Besides, it irritated me how close you were to each other. — He mumbled and lit another cigarette
I listened to it with bated breath. Jake was the definition of revenge. I felt my cheeks burn as he admitted he was jealous of me.In fact, I was no smaller monster than he was.
— So what have I done to you? — I whispered, inhaling the smell of nicotine. He was my private nicotine.
— You were so annoying from the start. I don't understand why you entered my mind, but when these feelings started to overwhelm me, I decide I had to stop this. — He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. — When I went to meet you, I was ready to choke you with my bare hands. But then you looked at me. With your huge, amber eyes in which I saw a palette of emotions that was so unknown to me. You made me feel. And this makes me want to vomit.
The image began to blur through the tears that had accumulated under my lids. My poor, confused boy now looked unemotional. I absorbed every lie from his divine mouth like ambrosia. I was completely drunk with his presence. If he was lying, he did it surprisingly well.
— You said you didn't know who I am. The truth is, even I don't know it. — His voice was trembling.
Even though I was still tied up, I no longer felt the bonds around my wrists and feet. I stared at the boy and I saw the same Jake with whom I had been writing for several months.
His ocean eyes was the abyss. And even though it was a huge bottomless abyss, I wanted to sink into it forever.
— If you just let me, I'll help you find yourself. I want you not to fight your feelings anymore, I want you to lose yourself in me as I lost myself in you. Become addicted to me. Let me be your drug. — I croaked and heard his bitter laugh
— You already are. I'm so addicted to you that I'm not sure I can live without you. — He replied and then shook his head — How long do you think I can be an egoist?
His question hung between us in a bitter-sweet halo. I fell back against the wall, closing my eyes. I was tired. It was enough just to wait for death. Why was I so weak and unable to fight my own feelings for him? Why was I willing to sacrifice my whole life to be able to call him my favorite crime?
Suddenly I felt a strong movement at my feet. I quickly opened my eyes to see Jake cut the ropes that held me to him. I could get away.I could save Hannah. I was able to save myself and my friend. But was this what I wanted?
— For the first time in my life, I choose someone over myself. He said, throwing back the ropes. I was free. — Go! Run away and tell everything in detail. Save your life.
I stared at him, not believing he was doing it for me. So, he really cared about me..I staggered to my feet and started walking. I could feel his burning gaze on my back. At the end of the corridor, I stopped.
How could I leave him alone? After all, I still believed I could fix him. And what would my life be without him?
— I already told you, I'm done saving myself. — the words echoed all over the cave — Now all I want to do is fuck everyone and run away from Duskwood with you.
I turned to face him and strode to him forcefully. He devoured every inch of my face with his sparkling eyes. They were so beautiful it hurt. I put my hands on his cheeks, his warm breath filling my face.
— The question is what do you want, Jake? — I whispered, brushing his lips.
The black-haired man smiled a little disturbingly.
— I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine. I want us to set a world on fire. Just to watch our enemies burn.
I bit my lip as I watched his eyes darken at my gesture.
— Then let's just do it.
Maybe I was in love with the demons that danced in his eyes when he looked at me.
Or maybe I was in love with the beauty of suffering.
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i-prefer-base-twelve · 7 months
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AI-Less Whumptober - Isolation
This is one continuous story. Intro | Drugging (Tendi)
BOIMLER
Boimler unfolded himself very carefully, waiting for stabs of pain to tell him where he'd been cruelly impaled by random debris. But somehow no stabs came, and eventually he found himself standing, wobbly and with pounding heart, but upright. He ached all over, and was covered in sweat and dust. But if that was the worst of it? He was a lucky, lucky man.
He squinted into the flickering dimness--they were down to emergency lighting--at the remnants of the conference room. The chairs had been reduced to rubble, but the big table stood stalwart and undefeated. It deserved a commendation. If he hadn't been under there, he'd probably be--
"Aaah!""
The hull was gone.
Where before there had been a wall of beautiful floor to ceiling viewports, there was now… nothing. A ragged ring of exposed wires and struts, framing the endless starry abyss. The only thing keeping Boimler's bodily fluids on the right side of his body was an emergency forcefield. He stared at it, frozen, open-mouthed, watching pieces of debris establish their own little orbits around the Cerritos. Oh sure, he'd been out in space dozens of times before, but that had always been from the safety of an EV suit. Who knows if the ship had power to sustain that forefield.
A piece of decking flew straight towards him. He shrieked and threw up his hands, but it bounced off the forcefield and went careening away. Boimler slowly lowered his hands, turned away from the breach, and tapped his badge to start recording a mission log. Mission logs were a great way to calm and order one's thoughts.
"Ensign's log, stardate… I don't remember. I'll look at the timestamp later. We were en route to Calagai V when the Cerritos collided with-- or was attacked by-- I don't know what happened. One minute, we were warping along, everyone just doing their jobs, and then Cap'n Freeman shouted to brace for impact. We're damaged, but life support is at least minimally functional. At least, it is here in the conference room. We've suffered a hull breach… at least this one, here in the conference room…"
What WAS the ship's status?
"Oh god." His stomach dropped. "Is the bridge crew ok? Computer!"
No response.
"Ok, that's not necessarily a sign of catastrophic failure," he mumbled to himself, "The comms are probably just… completely overloaded right now. Everyone is probably trying to make a status report at once." He shouldn't call the bridge, they needed all the bandwidth they could get. But he really needed the status OF the bridge…
"Boimler to Rutherford."
Silence. Either comms were down… or Rutherford was. Boimler swallowed and slapped his badge again, harder.
"BOIMLER TO RUTHERFORD. Boimler to Mariner. Boimler to Tendi! Boimler to anyone! Can anybody hear me?!"
Silence.
He had to get out of here.
Starfleet emergency training had taught him that before attempting to open a door, one should always ascertain if the next room is on fire or exposed to the vaccuum of space. Since his badge was useless, he hurried to the terminal on the wall and thumbed it on. Or, tried to. The screen stayed dark, no matter how hard he tapped it.
Boimler fought the growing pit of dread in his stomach. This damage could be localized. He could walk out of the conference room and back into a fully lit, fully connected, normal temperature hallway.
Oh, hey. It was cold in here. Was it getting colder?
He HAD to get out of here. Even if he had no idea what was on the other side of that door. He'd just have to pull the manual release and hope for the best.
Crouching down, he popped the little panel and pulled the lever. The doors parted slowly, jerkily, making unsettling crunching noises as they went. They opened about a foot before giving up.
"No sudden deadly outrush of air, so, that's good." But the hallway beyond the doors was just as dark as the conference room. Dark… and silent. Not even the red alert klaxon. The realization hit him like one of Mariner's suckerpunches.
A LOT of systems have to go down before the alert klaxons fail.
Boimler noted this all this in his log. Then he took a deep, deep breath, let it all the way out, and started trying to squeeze through the doors.
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amplifyme · 8 months
Text
@randomfoggytiger
You wrote about What Rough Beast:
CATHY FINALLY WONDERED IF SHE WAS RESPONSIBLE AND FATHER DIDN'T ANSWER.
Right?? Finally, a breakthrough! You really should take a moment to read the script for this episode, as there's more to that scene than what ended up on the screen. Let me know if you need the link to the scripts again. I think in some ways Father was as willfully blind as Cathy when it came to the toll the killings were taking on Vincent. But then, to be fair, Vincent himself shoulders some of the blame for that. Which is part of the reason I so love the thread that Nan weaves throughout BW,BS of Vincent trying to figure out a way to address the issue with Cathy and backing off until it's too late to stop the freight train that was heading straight for him.
More under the cut.
Listening to the music Below is back.
Oh, Vincent, don't you know? Ignorance isn't bliss. He was thinking, "Nope. Not going to think about what's already gone wrong and what's still to come. Let's just take in a concert and forget all about it." I love how Nan expanded on this scene and how Cathy falls apart and Vincent gets grabby in his despair. He wants her so badly.
And, of course, Elliot's back; both in person and in impersonation.
Ah, Elliot. Vincent's rival for Cathy's affections. I can clearly remember watching this episode the first time it aired and being so upset that Elliot was doing this to Cathy, and to Vincent. We didn't have spoilers floating around on the internet back then - we barely had the www. We had no idea what was going on. I don't think I realized it wasn't Elliot in that penthouse until Paracelsus lit up the cigarette. Mind blown.
Vincent and Father's conversation about what Vincent is (and Father's uncertainty here is juxtaposed perfectly to "his" unabashed certainty in a certain climactic moment in the next episode) and setting up his "educated the man" for the finale when they discussed how books were all that kept Vincent from falling off the ledge all those years ago. "Father, I cannot control my thoughts. Father, I'm afraid"-- powerful stuff.
The "Am I a man?" scene is one of my very favorites of the entire series. Perlman was at the top of his game in the trilogy. Not a mis-step anywhere.
Cathy believes Elliot is in the wrong the ONE TIME that he's in the clear (and her "we are beyond" statement-- including herself in the "otherness" that is Vincent-- is touching and disjointed, because she has only ever embraced the parts of him that are "human"... which she says as much in the finale to Peter after the blood analysis.)
Yep. Nothing to add here.
Spirko having the gall to still publish his evidence after Vincent spared him from death and Cathy tried to reason with him (also... JUST SWIPE HIS EVIDENCE AWAY BEFORE HE CAN LEAVE. I understand Vincent was too wiped, but I'm sure he could summon something up or Cathy could put up more resistance.)
But it's like Spirko said: it's not personal, it's news. I may not agree with his methods, but you don't get anywhere as a print reporter unless you're tenacious and maybe a little amoral. But I did enjoy seeing him get the crap scared out of him.
Honestly, I think Cathy figured Vincent wouldn't let Spirko out of there alive, and when V just walked away, the shock of it hit her so hard that she wasn't thinking clearly - or at all.
Cathy choosing to say goodbye rather than fighting for their romance is... huge and frustrating and makes me look even more forward to Diana in S3.
Yeah, had it been me, I would've gone Below with V no matter how much he protested. At that point she had nothing more to lose. Did they both think she'd just be able to carry on her life Above as though nothing had happened? They knew events had been set in motion that they couldn't duck for long. But, then again, if she'd gone Below then, we wouldn't have gotten the rest of the story, right? 😉
Vincent staring into the abyss in his dark room is FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORESHADOOOOOOOOOOWING, and a great eerie cap to this episode.
Did you notice the way he was trembling in that final shot? His whole body was just vibrating.
Okay, on to my favorite episode of the trilogy.
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oh goshhh i just wanted to drop by and say- wow you're a fantastic writer! your Sandman fics drew me to your account, and i just finished reading your Pillars of Eternity fic duo- and wow i am speechless. i cant even begin to say just how well thought out the fic is, and how alive it really feels! wisdom is such a cool character, (and profoundly interesting), so is every other character we meet. im rooting for morpheus and wisdom too. thanks op!! <33 ur a wonderful writer!
I'm so happy to hear you're enjoying Pillars of Eternity! At first, I wasn't sure whether it would be welcomed because of the sheer amount of original lore I'm packing in there, so it's absolutely wonderful to learn that the truth is quite the opposite.
I'd like to take this chance and do a small sneak peek/announcement for the third instalment:
"Que sera, sera": A Sneak Peek ⬇️
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"Don't stare too long at the water. It's hard to say what will stare back."
Understanding the seriousness of your warning, Morpheus looked up, away from the murky ocean but then his stare lay on something equally suspicious and thought-provoking: a black, slimy rock protruding from the indigo waters. As far as an eye could see, there was nothing resembling land. At first, the formation looked completely inconspicuous and perhaps that’s exactly why Dream’s gaze lingered on this black lump of slime - it was a little too unobtrusive.
Then, a yellow, fishy eye appeared on the surface of what Morpheus had assumed was a rock. A black rhomboid pupil stared at the Lord of Dreams with animalistic blankness as though the sea monster had the privilege of never entertaining even a single thought. Considering the distance between the yellow ocular and the boat, the eyeball itself must have been around Dream’s height in diameter. Morpheus felt a delicate shiver travelling down his spine: if that was only the eye, how big was its owner?
“Good day to you too, Charon,” you called out to the monstrum.
The beast let out a whale-like whine, then a low grumble before slowly submerging. Its yellow eye continued to stalk the floating boat.
“That is Charon?” Morpheus asked with a sense of wonder in his voice.
// // // // // // //
"Why haven't you asked Aether?"
The old man shook his head in a defeated manner. He let out a tired sigh before answering. "Wherever she goes, Abyss follows. I'm afraid she wouldn't quite understand this loneliness."
You raised your eyebrows at the bold implication. "Should I?"
Time’s steel eyes stared at you with a mildness that befits only people of very old age. His calloused hand scratched his pearly white beard. "Only you can answer that,” he stated with a certain disinterest in his voice as though you had just asked him a question he could never even begin to formulate a response to.
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jojosbizarrefanfics · 2 years
Text
Old Flame - Balthus von Albrecht x Reader 🍋
I am down so unbelievably bad for Balthus, what a man 🥵🥵🥵🥵
Includes: hickies, so much dirty talk, size kink, begging, overstimulation, praise kink if you squint
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You sighed as you finished wrapping the bandage around Byleth’s arm. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I am.” His delivery was so flat that you had no choice but to believe him, even though he always spoke like that. “It’s worse than it looks. Manuela’s taught you well, though. This should heal in no time. Thank you.”
“Yeah, of course. That’s what I’m here for. How’d you and the house leaders get all scuffed up, anyway?”
“We had business in Abyss.”
You suspected the only reason Byleth was telling you this was because you were alone. Manuela was chatting with Claude outside, Dimitri and Edelgard had already left.
“Abyss, huh? I’ve heard rumors but wasn’t sure it existed.”
“I’m going to start looking after them down there. Their previous caretaker… he didn’t work out.”
“That’s very kind of you. Let me know if you need any help. I’m sure a lot of people down there could use some fresh medicines, especially if they’re not getting enough sunlight.”
“I would hate to impose.”
“Oh, nonsense. I’m Manuela’s assistant, after all! Beneath the monastery still counts as the monastery as far as I’m concerned, and I’d hardly be doing my job if I turned a blind eye.”
Byleth offered you a sheepish smile. It was so forced that anyone would have been able to tell. “Don’t you come from a noble family? They’ll eat you alive down there.”
“While that may be true,” you said as you placed your hands on your hips, “an… old friend of mine taught me how to properly throw a punch. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
“Old friend, huh? You’re sounding more like Manuela by the minute.”
You laughed. “She and I have lamented about old flames many times. You, however, don’t strike me as the type to be interested in such idle chatter. Let me know next time you go down there, okay?”
“I will. Thanks.”
He was good on his word. You gathered up a variety of medicines and fresh bandages. You didn’t tell Manuela why, but you did get her help crafting a supplement out of fruits in the greenhouse to help those beneath the surface make up for their lack of sunlight and fresh air.
When Byleth brought you down, he introduced you to the guard by the entrance first, who eyed you up and down suspiciously before telling Byleth he’d allow it.
As you made your way through Abyss, sharing fruits and medicines with those who needed it, Byleth leaned in to whisper, “I’m surprised. Everyone’s taking well to you.”
“Of course they are. No one’s going to be mean to the lady with free food, now are they?”
Byleth chuckled as he brought you down a long corridor and into a classroom. “I guess so.” He looked to the four people lounging at one of the desks, who stopped speaking at the sound of your arrival.
“Professor!” A slender young man around Byleth’s age stood from his spot. “Good to see you, my friend. And who is this?”
You dropped your basket but caught it before it could hit the floor. You ignored the purple-haired one as Byleth introduced you and paid no attention to the stares the tanned redhead and pale blonde women were giving you. To say you were dumbfounded would be an understatement, and you were positive that the shocked expression on the burly, black-haired man’s face mirrored your own.
“Holy shit,” he said. You’d know that deep, booming voice anywhere.
“Balthus?”
The purple-haired one spoke. “You two are acquainted?”
“You could say that,” Balthus said.
As he placed his hands on his hips, his white coat was pushed aside. His abs were as well-defined as ever and his pants, with the grey panel over his crotch, made it hard for you to not look. But you managed to meet his gaze again after only a quick glance.
“Acquainted is an understatement,” you said. “I… I never thought I’d see you again.”
Balthus smiled. It made your knees weak. “What are the odds we’d both end up here, huh?”
You set your basket down on one of the desks so you wouldn’t nearly drop it again. You took a step toward him, unsure of how he’d respond to you closing the distance, and on the second step, Balthus began to approach you, too. Once you were within reach, Balthus held his arms out.
“Are… we good?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer verbally. You all but threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist since you couldn’t reach his neck well enough. Balthus’s strong arms encased you, feeling as warm and homey as ever.
“Balthus, I missed you so much.”
“I honestly thought you’d be happily married to some Lord by now.”
You shook your head against his chest. “A few have tried, but you really think any of them can compete with the King of Grappling?”
You felt the vibrations of his laugh in his embrace. “That’s what I like to hear.”
The blonde one interrupted your reunion. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”
The redhead nudged her friend. “Let them have their moment, Coco.”
Byleth spoke up. “I’m assuming this is the old friend you told me about?”
You and Balthus stepped away, and you already longed to return to him. You nodded. “You’re sharp as ever, Byleth.”
Balthus’ eyes never left your face as he explained to his friends. “Back before I renounced my titles, this little lady and I had a lot of fun in Leicester territory.”
“My father’s a minor lord, so you can imagine the life he had in mind for me,” you said. “Let’s just say I told him I was coming here to become a nun.”
Balthus laughed. “You sure don’t look like a nun to me.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” You winked. Byleth shook his head.
“Noble life wasn’t meant for either of us, I guess,” Balthus said.
The redhead sat on top of the desk next to where you and Balthus were standing. She treated herself to one of the fruits in your basket. “So basically, you two dated before he left the Leicester Alliance? That’s kinda sweet, B.”
“Thing is, I sort of left without warning her,” Balthus said. “It’s one thing for nobles to court other nobles. Her father was considering letting me marry her and everything.”
“Key word: considering.”
“But then, overnight… it all changed.” Balthus’s smile softened, becoming something sadder. “Can we catch up once you’re done with your rounds?”
“I’d love nothing more.”
You found him later that day near the classroom, standing outside an unoccupied room. It was lushly decorated, with pillows and purple drapes, but Balthus said the way-seer hadn’t been there in ages. It made for a comfortable, private place to talk.
“I’m sorry about all those years ago. I should have at least warned you.”
“I’m not mad at you,” you said. “You had a lot going on. I was upset at first, but I know that you didn’t have much of a choice.”
Balthus sat in one of the chairs in the corner of the room and patted his thigh. “Join me?”
You couldn’t resist him. Your brain told you to slow down, that you weren’t sure what he wanted from you, but your body moved right into his lap. All of your thoughts were silenced when his arms were around you again.
He wasn’t sure what to say, so he started with something easy to test your reception. Even with you in his lap, he still wasn’t sure how far to go. “You look good.”
You smiled. “So do you. Running from mercenaries probably keeps you busy, I take it.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll have to start letting them land a hit or two if I know you’re around to nurse me back to health.”
You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t. I’d rather you not give me cause for an anxiety attack.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll give me an excuse to see you.” One of his hands ran up your back. You knew what he was getting at.
You rose a brow at him. “You don’t need an excuse. We can see each other whenever we want, now.”
He kissed your cheek, then your jawline, and then your neck. “I really wasn’t sure if you were gonna hug me or stab me earlier.”
You laughed. “I could never stab you, Balthus, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Either way,” he said as he continued leaving kisses along your neck, moving down towards your collarbone, “I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”
“There’s nothing you need to make up to me, I swear. But I’ll still let you.”
Balthus grinned. “I have missed this so much.” His hands moved to unbutton your blouse as his kiss moved lower still. He kissed along your chest as he pushed your shirt off your shoulders and made quick work of removing your bra.
As his hands gripped at your thighs, he sucked at the flesh of your breasts hard enough that you knew there’d be marks there later. You weren’t shocked that Balthus was marking you up, reclaiming what had once been his. You fumbled with his belt, desperate to feel him again after so many years apart.
“Looks like you’ve missed me too, pal,” Balthus teased between kisses—if you’d even call them kisses. They were far too primal to be considered such a thing, but it set your soul on fire nonetheless.
“I have self-sabotaged every attempted courtship since you left, you know.”
“No cock compares to mine, huh?” He chuckled. There he went again, dropping his voice into a husky whisper against your skin. His hand slipped up your thigh, creeping beneath your skirt, and his fingers pushed your undergarments aside. He stopped kissing you only to pull his glove off with his teeth. Calloused fingers moved back where they once were and he wasted no time in rubbing his thumb along your clit.
“No one ever could, baby.”
“Fucked you so good that you couldn’t get me out of your head, is that it?” He pressed his thumb into your clit as he rubbed, increasing the pressure as he dipped a thick finger between your legs. “You’re so wet for me already, little lady. Does me being on the run turn you on?”
“There’s no one to tell what we can and can’t do anymore, Balthus,” you reminded him. “And I’m not scared of what might come your way. You taught me how to fight, after all.”
“You been practicing?”
“When I can.”
“Good girl.” He added a second finger between your lower lips. You rolled your hips towards him, forcing his fingers deeper. “Easy now, sweetheart. You and I both know that you need a little prep time before you can handle this.”
It was true—Balthus was as big as one would expect of him. He was broad-framed, taller than anyone you knew, and he was perfectly proportionate, even beneath his pants. You tugged at his belt in protest, having gotten it and his pants undone, and he lifted his hips just enough for you to lower them. His shaft sprang free, and he left another mark on your breast when your hand finally wrapped around it. The sight alone was erotic in his mind, your small hand compared to his thick cock.
Balthus’s teeth found your nipple as he slipped his finger into you, which provided just enough overstimulation to trigger your first orgasm. You could hear yourself as he pumped in and out of you relentlessly, thumb on your clit not letting up either.
“Balthus, please—”
“Fuck, sweetheart, that’s right. Beg for me.”
You gripped his cock more firmly as you pleaser him with your hand, almost enough to hurt—exactly the way he liked it. “Please, Balthus, have your way with me. Don’t you want to fill me up?”
“I do, but the thing is, I’m having so much fun watching you squirm like this. You’re all hot and bothered over just my fingers. It’s kind of endearing.”
His mouth returned to your nipple and a loose strand of curls fell in front of his eyes. He didn’t bother to move it, but carried on faster. Balthus pulled his mouth away from your chest when he felt you clenching around his fingers for a second time.
Your nerves were already starting to feel scrambled in a way only Balthus could pull off. He was so shameless in his behavior but still remembered all of your sweet spots and just the right way to hit them, making you beg for him more as your pace on his cock lost its rhythm. You could feel it twitch in your hand a bit, and you tried your best to keep up with him, but he had your brain practically melted already.
“You’ve been so good, little lady. Think you’re ready to take me?”
“B-Balthus…” It was all you could say.
He laughed. “Come on.”
Balthus lifted you on to him, letting you start off. He knew you’d need some time to adjust and didn’t want to be cruel. But you were so wet that he had to lick his fingers clean, so he didn’t think you’d have much of a problem. Your hands rested on his shoulders beneath his jacket, which he realized now he never took off. His eyes stayed on your laps as you lowered on to him; he reveled in the sight of your much smaller frame wrapping around his length, slowly but surely able to take more of him and coating his shaft with proof you were there.
“That’s a good girl,” Balthus praised. He brushed some loose strands of hair out of your face and then moved his hands to your hips. One was still gloved, creating an interesting juxtaposition against your skin. He never removed your panties fully, leaving them still bunched over to the side so he could easily access you without taking your skirt off. Your skirt, however, was hiked up around your waist so he could watch as he used his hands on your hips to guide you up and down him. “Look at how good you’re handling me, sweetheart.”
“I—I’m yours for the taking,” you said. You weren’t even sure how you managed to say it.
“Damn fucking right you are.” He smiled so genuinely that it made your head spin. “You look so beautiful like this. How’s it feeling?”
He thrusted into you harder as he asked, so your response with a moan that you stifled. He had closed the doors to the room, sure, but you still didn’t want to be too loud.
“S-so good, Balthus.”
He maintained his intensity as he spoke. “Those nobles thought they even had a chance with you, did they? Did they know your pretty little pussy is used to me?” He laughed.
You wanted to reply, but another moan just passed your lips instead.
“Can’t even talk, is that right? That’s too bad. I bet Yuri I could make you scream.”
Balthus slammed his hips up into you with what was probably a bit too much force, but it won him his bet. You buried your face into his shoulder in hopes of muffling the sound that was out of your control.
“Yeah! That’s it, sweetheart. Let them know who’s king around here."
Your grip on his body tightened as you came around him, and you felt yourself start to tremble as Balthus slowed his pace. He was buried so deeply into you that he was all you could feel and he slowly rocked his hips up and down, not withdrawing from you but slowly pulsing in rhythm with your orgasm. It overwhelmed your senses and you weren’t sure if your body would stop.
“Balthus, o-oh my Goddess...”
“Good, good girl,” Balthus cooed. He craned his neck down so he could kiss the top of your head as your release came in waves. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”
You gasped, feeling the air pierce your lungs as Balthus’ pace resumed. He was still moving slowly, but his thrusts were sharper now. Your body felt so overwhelmed that you weren’t sure how much more you could take, but you were so satisfied with the fullness that you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. 
“I’m gonna cum so hard that it sticks to your thighs on your way back to the surface. How’s that sound?”
You nodded, not confident in your ability to speak.
“You doing alright?”
“’s so much.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” One of his hands pushed your hair out of your face so he could kiss your temple. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shook your head no.
“Alright. You’re taking me so fucking good, (YN).” His breath was becoming shallow and his kisses grew sloppy, telltale signs that he was nearing his own release. He pulled you closer to him as he reached it, holding you tighter against his body if that was even possible. He was true to his word about making a mess of you, to the point where when you were lifted from his lap, you could feel it start to trail down the inside of your leg. Balthus was in no rush otherwise, though, but instead continued to hold you against him even once you were off of his lap and your clothes were back on in their entirety.
“Let’s not go this long without seeing each other again, yeah?”
You nodded. “Agreed. At least now we’re neighbors again.”
His lips found yours, and you could still faintly taste yourself on his lips. Balthus took his time kissing you, surprisingly tender after he left your legs wobbly.
“Will anyone be looking for you soon?”
“Probably, unfortunately. Byleth and I cleared our day, but you never know when someone will come waltzing in to the infirmary.”
“Byleth is letting me crash some of his classes, so I’ll see you around. I promise I won’t just up and leave on you this time.”
“Getting sentimental?”
Balthus chuckled. “Watch it.”
You couldn’t help your smile. “Don’t be a stranger.” 
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berryunho · 3 months
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Not you and Bee updating your fics the same day when just yesterday I was going through both fics again because I missed them dearly. You people are gonna kill me, the adrenaline that shot through me hit so hard when I saw The Answer and Wonderwall had updated that I almost spooked myself and fell from my bed.
Anyways HELLO! Good to see you again <3
Hope you're having a good 2024 so far.
Here we go on another one of my unnecessarily long ass comments about the fic, sure hope I haven't overstayed my welcome with them just yet lmao (let me know if I do end up overdoing it at some point please, I will gladly tone it down if it becomes a problem).
FIRST OF ALL: I THINK I'M GOING INSANE.
Maybe its the hj brainrot that I've been stuck on for the last few months, maybe it's the fact that the ateez hyperfixation is hitting harder than usual since the comeback but him throwing a tantrum yelling "you will not take her from me"? Butterflies. Got me giggling and kicking my feet. I was rolling around on my bed as I read that.
Maybe it's the absence making the heart grow fonder and all that.
That being said, my misplaced fondness for this clown did die down once he hit us with the whole "she should be begging me for her life", if the cult thing wasn't enough of an ick I guess that did the job. Like, sir you had me for a sec there with the possessiveness (*tucks my hair like debbie ryan*) why did you have to remind me of your actual personality?
But yeah, catch me slowly being dragged down against my will to join the TheAnswer!HJ simps, though I guess that's what's gonna happen to mc soon enough too, I really am along for the ride with her. Me and mc peering down the edge into the abyss where they lay, the abyss stares right back at us. Damn. People are right, we are not immune to cult propaganda. Tragic.
I really wanted to point out that this chapter had me extra paranoid than the last one tbh, you mentioned in the notes that this was shorter and that you felt like it was lackluster, but I seriously didn't feel it at all because of how on edge I was at times, not as much as let's say during her escape attempt in the corn field sure, but I was still wary and uneasy while reading. I know we had the whole circus with the Guardian thing last time, but san being so urgent in his claims that they have to leave and us getting to hear about how pissed off hj got because of mc's "unsatisfying" reaction to his little scheme? I am dead serious when I tell you I was bracing for the absolute worst, got me shaking in my little tinfoil hat.
The part about the machine harvesting the field? With mc saying she wouldn't want to be caught in it? (ALSO I SEE THAT SHORT YEOSANG MOMENT, I SEE YOU LEAVING A TRAIL OF BREAD CRUMBS FOR HIM 👁👁 <- EYES THAT SEE)
My 2 braincells immediately went "oh em gee, foreshadowing?", like I am certain to my core that someone's gonna fucking die to that or be horrifically injured, its just a matter of: whom? 🤨 I'm gonna save my guess as to who it could be in case that does happen, but I will come back here to yell on another ask about it if that comes up in the future.
Then the scene with hj and hwa talking to mc about her questions, and she hits them with the "oh what can I do if I'm alone?" and hwa is desperately trying to get her to stfu (me too man, me too) while hj smiles at her. You know, like a cryptic weirdo.
Now, I am more than willing to say that what came to mind for me in that moment was probably due to my very *rational* fear of TheAnswer!HJ, but ignore the fact that I am losing myself to his mind games and hear me out for a bit: I kid you not, for a second, I legit thought that he may suggest to or even outright attempt to like "mark" mc with the Sign.
In what way? I don't fucking know but there are many options and he is twisted enough to think of that, we all know it and the sirens were blaring in my head about that when he said the Sign would protect her as long as she had it in her, like "mc girl, I dread to say this but I feel like we should trust mr lapdog on this one, I fear you may be poking the modern day moses a bit too much and we all know he is having a diva moment today", because for hwa to be so concerned over it while hj reacts somewhat positively? Yeah, something wicked this way comes. And on that note, it seemed to me that hwa wasn't just trying to get her to steer from upsetting hj, he seems like he was trying to keep the peace between them in more ways than just that (more on that in a separate ask cause I feel like this is getting too long and its probably a pain for people to scroll past it LMAO I'M SO SORRY).
You clarified for me last time that mc will find out eventually about what happened to her bff (thank you by the way <33) and given how much it was brought up this chapter, I do think he is gonna wait out a while to use the haseul card (haseul girl you will always be remembered as the ride or die friend that you were, more on the die side but it's not your fault girlie, we love you), because while he is clearly prone to emotional outbursts, he is also smart as hell and just as cruel, we are yet to see him mess up big time just out of losing his cool (or maybe the consequences just haven't quite caught up to him just yet but I'd argue he is still ahead in that case), so I imagine that the threat of doing it is very much real but he will play it right for his own advantage.
The man is a diva but he is a cunning one, he more so seems to bring it up because he knows that the idea of devastating mc in that way is a threat in and of itself to everyone else that is also vying for her attention, which is 100/10 writing, author you are amazing (if the way that the fic is eating away at my brain wasn't clear indication of that).
I am also once again proud of our mc for *once again* poking holes in his little bible lore, yes bestie you are correct, wtf does it mean for a Guardian to kidnap someone? A question that I personally had when I read his explanation is: if the Guardians can kidnap people across dimensions then why tf can't the cult members or him, the big powerful prophet himself, also do something like that? Wouldn't that be way more helpful than sending uber eats across dimensions to the Others through sacrifices?? He says they need mc to do that but the Guardians have no issue going "yoink :3" over to our dimension to spirit away his followers and at the same time he also wants us to believe that the same Guardians are afraid of him? Sir. Pick a side, you can't have it both ways. Either they are clearly stronger than you and that's why we are all struggling with mc being a non believer or you are the op big shot of this religion whom everyone grovels under, make it make sense ! !
(Also this isn't me trying to point plot holes in your story pls lol I don't think his religion's lack of consistency is a reflection of your writing ever, in fact I think it's really cool cause it adds to the mystery of it all along with making us question him even more, I just have a lot of fun dissecting the snippets of it we do get out of spite for him lmao).
I have some more things I wanted to add but I'll throw them into another ask cause, again, I feel like this is already gonna be annoying to scroll past lmao, so sorry for anyone seeing this, apologies everyone.
But these were my general takes on the chapter, I really enjoyed it as always so thanks for another update Lauren <333 wish you well!!
- 👁👁
LKSJLFKJASDF OMG HI!!!! <33333
First of all let me just say that you will never annoy me w these comments like this is seriously my dream feedback i could cry honestly im so touched that you care so much to type all of this out and that you clearly spend so much time thinking about the answer and really appreciating it and like. YEAH ILY SM DO NOT WORRY !!!!! 
Fun fact about bee and me updating at the same time . we didnt plan it this time . it was in fact random . but there was a time in like… i wanna say december 2022 when bee was writing claire de lune and her and caly and i all conspired to update on the same day and im pretty sure we did and i cant even imagine what it wouldve been like to be a claire de lune/mists of celeste/the answer reader on that day LMFAO
ANYWAYS INTO THE MEAT AAAAAAAAAAA pls these reactions to hj are so real like sometimes ill write something a little bit too … cute ? and then ive gotta reel it back real quick we gotta remember who we’re talking about we gotta stay strong even if he is hot and obsessed 
TY for saying you felt that the chapter was still interesting hehe i guess i felt like people would be expecting a lot from this chapter and i knew it wasnt going to be What Was Expected or like that it wasnt going to go right into the escape attempt like i think some people probably thought SO im glad that the chapter was still … paranoia inducing LMFAO 
No fun fact idk if this is like obvious or not but my grandparents are/were corn farmers so like. Obvs i have spent a lot of time on a corn field. Planting harvesting running around etc. and i was always so freaked out by combine machines theyre literally fucking ENORMOUS like easily 15 feet tall but the good news is they go like. 10mph. But i still wouldnt want to find myself in the path of one AHAHAH !!!!!! ANYWAYS !!!!!!!!!!!!!
eheheheeh yeah the whole scene w the unholy trinity really …. Ooooooo was it fun to write hehe yes the whole situation w haseul is really a big opportunity for hj to keep manipulating mc and something for him to hold over her head and i hope the dramatic irony is coming through w the fact that we obvs know she’s dead but mc has no idea bc i lovvveeeeeee that tension in a story like just waiting and waiting and waiting for mc to find out … ehehe and i like how you point out that hj hasnt really messed up big time or lost his cool bc youre … right … but he’s almost almost getting there and i just love him being unhinged and ………… yeah ill be quiet now heh
UBER EATS SACRIFICES ACROSS DIMENSIONS SENT MEEEEEE LAKDJFL;ASKJDFL;KJA;DFKJ youre so real for these questions and like yes this is exactly the type of thing i want you to be thinking … hehehe keep yourself in mc’s shoes yk … i def get that you’re not trying to point out plot holes hehe dw dw thank you for your compliments hehe
I WILL ANSWER YOUR SECOND ASK NEXT !!! TYSM AGAIN I LOVE YOU MWAH MWAH MWAH i hope you are WELL !!! <3333
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