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#should i add more blood btw
cinammonelles · 6 months
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Remembered I never posted this here
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harvestmoth · 2 years
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shot through the heart
little bonus as an apology, it was just a nightmare :]
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kqluckity · 10 months
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Imagine q!Luzu helping qq getting over his fear of water from being trapped by the federation and q helping Luzu with the repercussions of having a rouge ai in his head ;-;
oh man... oh MAN. now i will think about this forever
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universalsatan · 2 years
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can’t tell if i’m confusing wanting to look like almost stereotypically macho men or just being wildly attracted to them. or both i guess
#i mean i always used to say bi dilemma but im realizing this is mostly just gay now godbless. trans rights#for context. im thinking like. young harrison ford (i Know.; the reason im saying this is i remember Both my mom and dad acknowledging him#as the og Macho Man™️) and because it crossed my dash. jackles. but not really young jackles like s1 dean but matured jackles like more rece#it’s funny cause in practice. the person ive been pursuing (while Also an idiot. maybe i should just accept myself as morosexual at this#point) is actually. very effeminate HAHAHDHAHSJDHSJ#to the extent that my mom has thought he was gay in the past. i was talking about him to my sister and she asked if he was gay LMAO#which is hilarious because as far as i know (and ive known him for… almost 6 years ig? pined for almost 5). i’m Only aware that hes had a#crush on a girl ages ago. but this was also thru a secondhand source we’ve never actually talked about that#we probably should but we’re both idiots i have no idea how it’d be brought up#but in terms of effeminate. hm. he’s actually Really tall maybe over 6ft? and he Can have a deep voice. i think he can sing bass? but he#actually speaks in a higher register. god i wonder if he’s doing the opposite of me. who’s always consciously deepend my voice LMAO#he’s a HUGE plant enthusiast. HUGE. i dont Think he’s ND (or at least he doesn’t from what i can tell. I get vibes) but he straight up has a#plant fixation. knows so much about care. when he worked in greenhouses he learned the latin names for a good portion of them. i know this#isnt exactly ‘effeminate’ but he does all the gardening. oh and to add to it ig. i dont know HOW. he was NOT. irked by gore and blood???#when i explained to him what my potential job as a crime scene cleaner could entail??? but he cannot STAND bugs. he FREAJED OUT (over text)#at the mention of a spider. so of course. me being the 8yo boy with a playground crush. proceeded to tell him all my Fun Spider Encounters#lets see i think he also really loves to bake? ive seen these elaborate cakes (tp roll for covid. a fish) he’s made on insta. and there was#that one time he brought me those three most MOIST chocolate cupcakes with raspberry buttercream icing. i deadass ASCENDED to heaven.#food IS the way to a man’s heart btw.#oh yeah and the fact that i met him in the first place — well. i play oboe in ensembles. and he’s flute/piccolo. yeaHAHSHAHSHH#LMAO remembering that while he doesnt keysmash (i’ve started to around him. it’s mostly emojis bless his heart) he deadass called me ‘hun’#oh and the best part? i couldnt think kf what to watch. and he’s over here saying he doesnt watch ANYTHING. like bro how do u NOT. listen to#any music past 1900. OR OPERA EITHER. and NOT have any favorite movies/shows??? wh??? like. he deadass was like ‘unless [gardening channel#on youtube] counts’ like girl i am so in love#but yeah i was literally sitting there sounding like a pretentious film nerd bro i cant fuckin believe it. but i FINALLY wriggle it out of#him. because apparently he cant concentrate on most movies (valid.). the ones he CAN are cheesy chick flick comedies#saying that he can recite 90% of mean girls. thats his favorite movie#and he also mentioned like. legally blonde#and i have a feeling he almost was avoiding it in case i would judge him or whatever but ngl i honestly fell harder HAHSHSJAJDJAJ#fuck 30 tags but let’s just say. very effeminate compared to me. a full on Dad
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furbee8467 · 1 year
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This happens to me WAY to often lol
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koqabear · 4 months
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Lamb To The Slaughter
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♫: Gods & Monsters, Lana Del Rey
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"An act of kindness goes a long way, your parents told you once; their words stuck with you all your life, your pure heart never failing to follow their philosophy— though, it seems your naive self was left unaware of just how far an act of kindness can go."
wolf hybrid!beomgyu x lamb hybrid!fem!reader x herding dog hybrid!soobin
Genre: smut, hybrid au, angst, porn with the world's smallest amount of plot
Word count: 15.8k
Warnings: barely edited oops, heavy predator/prey themes, injuries/blood, use of scents, scent glands and scenting, mentions of kidnapping and murder, psychological abuse i guess… this fic doesn’t let you forget that they’re hybrids btw, (showcases animal-like behaviors and habits), soogyu are stronger than the mc, obsessiveness, manipulation
Smut Warnings: DUBCON. threesome, mean dom!gyu, soft dom!soobin, sub!mc,inexperienced!mc, pet names (pretty, doll, good girl, etc.) manhandling, marking, subspace, possessiveness, choking kinda, dry humping, praise, praise kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, fingering, exhibitionism/voyeurism, degrading, orgasm control, dumbification, finger sucking, cum eating(?), spanking, begging, mind breaking, unprotected sex, jerking off ig, jealousy, hair pulling, rough sex, corruption kink maybe, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, double vaginal penetration… brief mentions of breeding, creampies, knotting, claiming, mc blacks out. (lmk if i should add anything.)
Notes: look at these stupidly long paragraphs of warnings oh im gonna kms. this story almost had me plucking my hairs out one by one, i’ve never been so stressed out by a pwp before. it was originally an ot5 au and was supposed to come out during october but… yk. shit happens. (i saw a post that changed the entire trajectory of this fic)
[This story contains dark content. Please read the warnings carefully; I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume.]
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The forest at the edge of the village is something that should’ve been closed off long ago— but there’s no resources, no men to work on the border, no money— so the townspeople have resorted to old myths and tales to ward off wandering children and defenseless women instead.
There’s a killer in the forest— fairies will lead you down the wrong path and trap you in the woods forever; there’s a hidden pond so deep that if you fall in, you’ll sink forever. Typical tales that are told around the bonfire, where people cower and whisper from the thrill of the stories. Yet with each varied warning, one thing stays the same.  
There are wolves in the forest.
Large and strong and invincible, with a terrifying bloodlust and noses so keen they could spot you the moment you cross the barrier; tearing you to shreds, eating you alive and forcing you to feel the pain all throughout it. The wolves are always hungry, insatiable, and lurking about for its next prey— anyone who would enter the woods willingly would be deemed suicidal. 
You’ve never been one to believe such tales; how could you, when you’ve grown alongside the forest?
There are wolves in the forest, that much you’re sure of— but the fantastical tales and myths are nothing but a farce, crafted from the fear of the unknown and the dark, entangled landscape that lies past the backyard of your small cottage; belonging to your deceased parents, now left to fend on your own and care for the gardens and lush plants your mother had carefully cultivated since you were a child. 
She taught you everything you needed to know about the forest; which paths to take, which areas led to steep cliffs or poison ivy, and where to find herbs and plants that would aid to the medicinal business your family ran— you were fascinated by the craft, even as a young child, learning with eager eyes and an even more eager mind as you stored all the information in your small, worn down journal; the pink material of the cover faded and torn at the corners, filled to the brim yet still useful to you as you took it with you on every trip.  
Tonight, you pull on a warm coat dress; it’s thick and durable, a cute piece gifted on your birthday by the baker’s son, the border collie family always making sure to look after you since the day you were left on your own. The shawl sewed into the coat hangs over your shoulders like a small cape, adding in extra warmth as you look out the window and onto the cold scenery; the leaves have begun to abandon the trees, and if you hadn’t memorized the forest layout like the back of your hand, the covered paths might’ve concerned you— but you’re confident as always, grabbing your wicker basket and perching it on the crook of your elbow, glancing down to make sure your journal is already inside— and with one last mental check to make sure you have everything you need, you slip on your boots and make your way outside. 
“Soobin,” you say in surprise, swinging the door open, getting scared at the sight of someone already waiting for you outside— the said man only smiles at the sound of his name, laughing fondly at the way you press a gentle hand against your startled heart; his ears perk up at the sight of you and his black hair is slightly disheveled, though you guess it’s probably from his habit of running a hand through it whenever he’s restless— he holds a basket of his own, and your eyes fall onto it with a curiosity you don’t bother to hide.
“Hello pretty,” he smiles softly, the nickname never failing to make a heat flush up the back of your neck— you really hope he doesn’t notice your flushed expression, his eyes narrowing with fondness as he brings his basket up, opening it to show you the contents, “I made an extra batch of bread, and I thought you’d like some. Business will get busy for us both soon, and I’d hate for you to get hungry because you don’t have time to eat.”
He’s sweet and caring, and it never fails to leave your knees weak— he looks at you with nothing short of affection, raising a brow in curiosity and glancing down at your already occupied arm— his brows furrow, biting his lip in thought as he finally pieces everything together. 
“Are you going to the woods?” he asks softly, reaching past you and into the doorway, placing the basket of bread on the table next to the door— his hands are immediately coming up to your shoulders, smoothing out the soft material of the coat with narrowed eyes— and they’re filled with worry again, ears angling down and tail swaying slowly from side to side, searching your face that can’t seem to lie to him, “It’s dangerous to go at this hour, you shouldn’t.”
“It’ll only be dangerous if you continue to stall me,” you tease, shrugging his hands off and wrapping your own around his elbow, tugging him until you’re both stepping out of your home; he allows you to, and you’re locking it up with ease, even as he continues to tell you not to, to go another day, another time— you huff, shaking your head and frowning at the way he begins to offer to come with you; his instincts must be kicking in again, eyes filled with a calculated look he only sports when looking out for your safety— and with you being nothing but a fragile little lamb in his eyes, this look was something you’ve become very familiar with. 
“No, you mustn’t come with— it’s dangerous, and I’m the only one who knows my way around the woods,” you scold him, and even though he stares at you with that intimidating, stern look, murmuring about something about his keen senses, you stand your ground, “I’m too one-track-minded to guide someone else through these woods— I’d hate for you to get hurt because of me.”
He sighs— and you know you’ve gotten him good by the way he remains silent, stalling his leave as he tries continuing to reason with you— but you keep refusing in return, cooing softly that you’ll be okay, that you’ll be quick. 
“I’ll wait for you,” he finally says, refusing to back down even as you express your worry; after a moment of bickering, you finally give in. Your eyes widen in surprise as he gently pulls you in for a hug, engulfed entirely in his embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a content sigh— warm, comforting and pure, like jasmine with the hint of a pure, soft vanilla, his nose subconsciously poking at your gland in search for more— and you shiver at the feeling, engulfed in his calming scent, a sage and rich pine, allowing yourself to melt in his arms and hold you tighter, ignoring the way your heart begins to race the longer your remain there. 
“Come back to me safe.”
Soobin is just as solemn and loyal as he was the day he declared that he would always protect you— and it makes your heart race a bit faster, a dopey smile stuck on your face as you wave him goodbye— you sigh pathetically the moment you’re finally in the woods.
The leaves crunch under your feet and birds chirp in the distance; it’s comforting to you, humming softly to yourself as you walk the paths you need to take without much of a thought, gathering herbs and plants as you slowly check them off your list; everything goes as smoothly as it always does, your mind in awe as you witness the sun beginning to set. 
You should get going soon; it was never ideal to be in the woods after dark, no matter how familiar you were with the landscape. The thought makes your steps quicken and your eyes sweep over the land in acute concentration, looking for the last plant on your list— you’re freezing entirely when you hear a shift against the leaves. 
You’re still; was it a false alarm, or a harmless rabbit passing by? You’re not entirely sure, wicker basket heavy in your hand as the other presses firmly against your heart; trying to settle your heart rate, breathing deeply as you look for any signs of movement, any signs of life around you. 
Just when you think the coast is clear, you hear it again; rustling against the leaves, harsh and erratic as something else greets your ears— sharp pants and sounds of struggle, a pained yelp resounding into the vast space and sending you into action before you can think twice. 
You round the thick oak tree ahead of you, searching for the source of the sound— and stumble back in surprise, an involuntary gasp escaping you as sharp eyes and equally sharp teeth point your way— a man lays before you, injured and weak.
Except, he’s not just a man; that much is made clear to you the moment your eyes sweep over his frame once more, taking in the ears that press flat on his head and his fangs that remain bared at you, the injured man—wolf hybrid— growling lowly at you and shuffling back to curl against the thick tree that once covered him; your hands shake as you hold onto your basket a little tighter, wide eyes sweeping over his figure and inevitably landing on the source of all this commotion; a twisted ankle, rendering the man before you immobile. 
You must run— you must, and it’s all your instincts seem to yell at you, your muscles becoming rigid with tension, white ears pressing flat against the top of your head and fluffy tail quivering with fear— but you have yet to, something about the look in the wolf’s eyes making you ignore your instincts, just for a second; behind the dangerous fangs that glint beneath the remaining light and his eyes that are narrowed threateningly, you can still see the pain he’s found himself in.
Something inside you clicks— your weak heart twists and your hands grip your basket a bit tighter, a voice in your mind telling you that you can’t just leave him like this; you can do something to help. Next thing you know, you’re taking cautious, slow steps toward him, hands held out to show that you’re nothing close to a threat— though you’re sure that the smell of fear that rolls off you in waves is enough of an indicator— and your soft voice is whispering out your intentions, continuing your approach even as he bares his teeth at you in warning. 
“I want to help you,” you say softly, finally at his feet as you place your basket gently next to him; and he growls at you once more, though you don’t find yourself to be afraid— if he were dangerous, he would’ve attacked long ago. It’s the only thought that repeats itself in your mind like a prayer, pretending as though your hands don’t tremble as you reach into your basket, as you grab the herbs you were just stocking up on and the bandages you carry for emergencies. 
He lets out a particularly harsh growl that makes you jump; it makes you hesitate to touch his skin, bruised and broken and bloody, eyes jumping to meet his— and though the action was meant to be confident, nothing can hide the fear that taints your eyes, the way your frame shrinks slightly when you’ve found that he has no issues holding eye contact— and after a standstill moment, you finally continue, ripping a piece of the bandage and attempting to clean the wound as best as you can. 
You’re a bit clumsy at first; unable to look away from the man, his strikingly dark red hair that's matted to his head from a thin layer of sweat, dirtied clothes and face that’s twisted in a mean glare— but eventually, it softens, the deep heaving of his chest calming as he watches the way you tend to him with deft hands, not seeming to care if he’s soiling your pretty coat as you tug him closer to you. 
The bandages are tight on his ankle and you’ve placed herbs within to help soothe the swelling— all tricks you’ve learned from your mother, from the times when you would run about carelessly and twist your ankle in some hidden hole, only calming your cries to see her work her magic on you.
Reassuring words don’t do much in the grand scheme of things, but you still whisper them sweetly to the injured man before you, dry bandage cleaning along the rest of his calf as you tell him to rest, to try and not overexert himself. And though you don’t know if he can understand you, though you’re unsure of where he came from— because as far as you know, wolves have been banished from your village for decades— you still find yourself caring for him. It’s something he can pick up on in your eyes, gentle and reflecting the last of the sun’s golden rays that leak through the woods. 
It’s quiet; it’s peaceful. Warm fingers lingering on his skin much longer than you intended, a curiosity leaking through your wide eyes as you take in his figure, the tall dark ears that stand on his head, the tail that lays on his side, thumping rhythmically— and you think you’ve finally found the courage to ask who are you? Lips parting to speak, you’re cut off by the sound of rustling, a new overwhelming scent overtaking your senses; something is approaching. 
The man before you doesn’t seem to be worried; it’s you that’s whipping around to the source of the sound, shrinking pathetically once you spot something emerging from the dark, thick mass of trees behind you; eyes, multiple pairs, glowing and angry as they stare at you like you’re their next meal— you’re not sure how many pairs there might be, but you’re stumbling to your feet quickly, eyes widening as you realize that the sun has set long, long ago.
You almost slip on the leaves beneath you; one last glance at the man behind you shows that his hands were out as though to catch you, expression twisted with what you’re surprised to see is… concern. But as a rough growling begins to surround the two of you, a sharp pang of fear courses through your body, the gravity of your situation finally sinking in as your eyes sweep around the area in one last, terrified glance.
They’re targeting you.
Before you can think twice, you’re turning on your heel and running— though nothing follows behind, you still let adrenaline take its course, shallow breaths and teary eyes guiding you back to your home; you don’t realize how crazed you must’ve looked until you’re finally reaching your front door, a worried Soobin immediately interrupting your flee and scooping you into his arms, whirling around to shield you away from the forest.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Dear, what happened?” he’s breathing out the concerned questions against the crown of your head, arms wrapped tightly around your middle and the only thing keeping you up as your knees buckle with fear; his gaze sweeps down to the state of your cute coat, the once pristine and pink material now dirty and bloodied; his hands hold onto it with a newfound panic, lifting the coat and attempting to find the source— it isn’t until you’ve let out a few pathetic sniffles that you can finally reassure him the blood is not yours.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to you? Oh, I should’ve—” Soobin has pulled away to cup your face in his hands, wiping away the tears that escape your sweet eyes like a fountain; thumbs caressing your tear-streaked skin lovingly, brows knitted together as his concern pours off him in waves— and you shake your head softly, attempting to dissuade the guilt he must’ve felt for leaving you on your own. 
“It’s fine, I’m not hurt,” you croak out, grabbing onto his waist for support as you finally regain the strength in your legs, “I just— had some encounters with a wolf— but I’m safe, they didn’t hurt me, I’m just a bit shaken, is all.”
“A wolf?” Soobin asks, much more concerned by your words as he pulls away to inspect you once more; his hands run gingerly over your shoulders, running along them until they’ve stopped at your neck, eyes honing in on the spot for a moment before he sighs in relief. His gaze is hardening once more, cupping your face and looking at your sternly as he speaks. “Where were they? Did they follow you? Did you interact with them?”
“No, no— it’s alright, I’m alright, I promise,” you breathe out, hoping that Soobin doesn’t notice the way you shrink under his gaze, the way your body warms up at his touch— but he’s much too concerned about your safety to pick up on it, dismissing every cue of your body as nothing but fear, instincts heightened as he looks behind you and back at the forest you just came from. He watches the woods carefully, eyes narrowed and ears perked in concentration— but nothing happens, and he’s left to reluctantly believe your words, even if he wants nothing more than to run into the woods himself and make sure there’s no threat to you. 
After a moment of observing the forest, Soobin is turning back to you, and his gaze immediately softens at the sight. The brave front you put up isn’t fooling him, and it’s quite obvious that you’re still shaken from your encounter, delicate ears still pressed close to your head, eyes wide and scent muddled with distress— like rotten flowers, earthy and pungent— and with all the adrenaline ebbing away from your system, you’ve found that your legs have become pure jelly once more; Soobin is quick to catch on to the way you tremble and hold on to him tightly. 
“Oh, my doll,” Soobin sighs softly, fishing for your keys in your coat pockets and unlocking the door for you, leading you inside with a careful hand— as though you were made of porcelain, still shaken and anxious as he leads you to sit down, “it’s alright, you’re safe now— I’ll keep you safe.”
Soobin insists on taking care of you long after you tell him you feel better; he’s keen to protect you through and through, keeping his distance yet still doting on you as he makes you tea, helps you out of your coat, and even offers to wash it for you— the sight replaces the heavy fear in your stomach with butterflies. 
When he bids you goodbye, his eyes are soft, his movements slightly reluctant— but he must, it’s unlawful for him to stay the night with you; an unclaimed little prey like you, spending the night with Soobin, even if he was nothing short of perfect and kind, was enough to have the town gossiping like a storm. The very thought has your cheeks hot and your tongue stumbling on words, telling Soobin to get home safe with a shy, sweet voice— and he brushes his thumb against your cheekbones, smiling fondly before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead; he lingers there, and you think you might just melt against him before he finally bids you goodbye. 
Your heart still races long after he’s gone; you suppose all this makes up for the fact that you forgot your basket in the woods, mourning the fact that you’ll have to go back to get it tomorrow— but for now, you’re content with giggling softly at the memory of Soobin’s lips against your skin, completely unaware of the eyes that watch you twirl around your kitchen happily.
 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  
When you wake up, you find something peculiar at your doorstep; your wicker basket is placed before your feet, pristine as it was when you first took it out. 
Your brows furrow, looking around the area and wondering how it got here— your mind is going back to the wolf you tended to, eyes slowly sweeping over the dense forest, ears twitching in attention, listening for even the slightest rustle of leaves, wondering if he’s still lingering— but the world around you is still, and it seems to be only you here. You bend down to pick the basket up carefully. 
Everything is intact— your herbs, your bandages, your worn down pink journal— and the closer you bring it to your face in order to inspect it, the better you’re able to catch something peculiar; a scent, your nose twitching in curiosity and your eyes narrowing. The unknown scent only grows stronger the closer you get to the handkerchief you used to line the inside, and only then are you able to get a good sense of it— light and heady, like an amber and smoky smell filling your nose, finding yourself oddly enticed by the scent. 
You’re far too wrapped up in attempting to decipher the complicated notes of this new scent to notice someone approaching; your senses have gotten so used to Soobin’s presence you no longer find yourself alert around him, only perking up at the approaching sound of leaves crunching and the familiar, sage filling your senses— tucking the basket behind your back, you send him a meek smile, cheeks heating up as you silently hope he didn’t see you curiously nosing at your basket. 
“Hey, pretty thing,” Soobin rumbles out lowly, smiling fondly at the way you practically preen at the name; you’re terrible at hiding your expression, the way your ears twitch at his words not helping your attempts to seem nonchalant before him. 
“Hi Soobin,” you smile, fingers restlessly playing with the wicker basket behind your back as you tilt your head curiously, “what’re you doing here today?”
“I needed to check on you,” he says immediately, a soft oh leaving your lips at that, “I couldn’t sleep well knowing I just… left you here on your own. I needed to make sure you were safe.”
“Soobin, it’s fine, really,” you reassure him softly, fluffy tail wiggling behind you at the fact that he confessed how worried he was about you, his dedication to keep you safe, “Nothing happened— as long as I’m in my home, I’m safe.”
Soobin wants to argue against that, you can tell. But you don’t give him a chance to, inviting him in with a tug at his arm, smiling at the way he immediately relents; you tell him about your plans for today over a cup of tea, that you have to make a few deliveries to some homes across the village— Soobin practically jumps to offer to come with. 
“You– won’t you be busy?” you ask shyly, staring down at your teacup and stirring your spoon in  a feeble way to distract yourself. 
“No, I’m not needed at the bakery today,” Soobin immediately reassures you, reaching over the table to place a delicate hand over your own— and you stiffen, a heat rushing through your body at the sudden contact; the smell of sage wafts over to you as his thumb rubs soothingly over your skin, your mind mulling over his offer as you bite at your lip in thought. 
He’s eager to hear you say yes; his tail wags slowly behind him, ears perked up and eyes honed in on your every expression— and after a moment, you finally nod meekly. 
“It’s only a house or two, but the walk is… it’s far,” you say, standing at the doorway and reaching over for your basket, placing the bottles and jars filled with homemade remedies inside carefully— but before you can continue your explanations and tuck your basket snuggly into the crook of your arm, Soobin is taking it from you, his brows knitted together as he stares down at the item in confusion. 
“I thought you lost this,” he says quietly, rotating the item in his hands, taking in its pristine condition with a frown— his ears are perking up and his tail is straightening, head whipping over to you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did you go into the woods to retrieve it?”
“No!” you say, oddly defensive as you shake your head adamantly, “It just— it was at my doorstep this morning, I think someone might have found it—”
“The wolf,” Soobin sneers, his tone much darker than it was mere moments ago— it makes your ears flatten against your head and your figure shrink, his scent turning earthy and thick and rendering you docious and pliant— his eyes are darting from the basket and back to you, only to go back to the basket in order to examine it closely; the moment Soobin brings it closer to his face, you’re able to see the very moment where that same, smoky scent enters his senses— his pupils dilate, and his nose twitches. 
The same scent as before. Soobin recognized it as the same scent that you were drenched in the moment you found him, shaken and face aghast— your coat and skin reeked of nothing but that scent, wanting nothing more than to take you inside and replace it with his own— but the most he could do in the moment was hold you close and hope that it would wash off. 
The owner of this scent must have brought you the basket back; Soobin’s head races to find meaning, to find reason, adrenaline coursing through his body that yells at him to take action; this must be a threat—you’ve been followed, they know where you live.
“It isn’t safe for you to stay there anymore,” Soobin proceeded to tell you, only confessing how he felt once you were far, far away from your home— from the woods. And you could only shake your head at that, the reassurances an automatic response in your head at this point. 
But Soobin wasn’t going to go down without a fight this time; knowing that the wolf was out there somewhere, that he knew where you lived and even went as far as to visit your home— it made Soobin tense with anger. 
“That wolf was at your doorstep without you knowing,” Soobin continued to reason, all throughout your walk back, “you don’t know who they are— what their intentions are.” 
It was only then that you decided to mull through his offer to stay, or for you to stay with his family— images of a bloodthirsty wolf at your doorstep filled your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel like your nine year old self again, sitting at a fireplace and telling each other scary stories about the forest only a few feet away from you— your young self would always be left shaken and paranoid, asking your parents if you could sleep in their bed. 
Maybe you’ve become too used to being independent; you’ve survived this long on your own— most lamb hybrids you knew couldn’t walk around at night without having a trusted predator around to protect them, just in case— yet you were so used to depending only on yourself that you seem to have forgotten how truly vulnerable your species is; Soobin made sure to remind you with a stern look and crossed arms. 
“I don’t see why you’re insisting so much, binnie— I promise nothing happens here, this place is dead,” you tell him as you make dinner for the two of you, the sun now long gone and the man still stuck to your side, leaning against the counter beside you and watching you cook dutifully— his eyes drift over to the window behind him, looking over his shoulder and at the dark, gloomy forest that obscures his view; his eyes can’t help but narrow and pick apart each shape he sees, nose keen and eager to sense any changes, any hint of that smoky smell— but he sees nothing, and he’s turning back around to catch the way you send him a slightly incredulous look. 
“I understand why you might feel this way— you’ve been on your own for longer than you can remember, after all,” Soobin says softly, taking in the way your eyes remain downcast and you shy away from his gaze. Hesitantly, he shifts to stand behind you, a gentle hand placing itself on your bicep before his head lowers to rest on your shoulder; his forehead rests against you, able to smell the restless, flowery notes of your scent— despite the strong front you put up, Soobin’s keen senses are still able to pick up on the tenseness of your body, the way you keep glancing out the window and into the forest unsurely. 
“You have to allow yourself to be helped— there’s nothing wrong with that, doll,” he coaxes softly, ears atop his head twitching at the sound of the shaky sigh you let out— the stove is turned off, and the food is done— but you don’t seem to care about that much. 
Carefully, Soobin nudges at your jaw with his head; allowing your neck to tilt slowly, to expose it to him as his nose runs along your skin delicately, until it’s pressed against your scent gland, inhaling slowly and taking in the intense mix of smells and emotions within you— and he presses his lips softly against it, a gentle kiss that turns your scent sweet and fresh like a blooming flower; your heart pounds against your chest for a second, then proceeds to relax against Soobin’s hold the moment his scent invades your senses. 
“I’m here to protect you.” 
His words stick to you for the rest of the night— as does he, his presence reassuring enough to make you forget of why he was here in the first place— enough to allow you to miss the glowing eyes that peek from the edge of the forest as you get a glass of water in the middle of the night, taking in your drowsy figure and eyes that are heavy with sleep; unaware of the pair of eyes that take you in hungrily, the tongue that runs along a sharp set of teeth, nose twitching to get another gust of your sweet, clean scent, the muddled vanilla that makes his mouth water. 
With Soobin lying in the guest bedroom, you’re almost able to forget that there are wolves in the forest. That there is one that has now set his sights on the cute little lamb that tended to him with wide eyes and an innocent heart. 
 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  
It’s early in the morning when you bid Soobin goodbye; your cheeks are flushed and you’re barely able to look him in the eye, despite not having done anything more than talk the whole night. He finds your shyness nothing short of endearing, placing one last affectionate kiss on top of your head before he tells you to call him if you ever need anything— to never be afraid to ask for help. You nodded to his words with a soft smile. 
Watching him leave had left a bit of an empty feeling in your heart; you couldn’t seem to help but watch him leave pathetically, standing at your doorway even after he had long gone; his scent still drifted around in your senses, the warm and sturdy scent helping you remain calm as you finally went back inside— closing the door behind you, you were pleasantly surprised to see that your home still smelled strongly of him. 
You had over ten different orders you needed to work on; you were able to busy yourself with making medicine throughout the rest of the day, boiling herbs and making remedies for colds and illnesses and burns. It was a tedious and slow process, and as you finally began to reach the end of your list, you couldn’t help but frown. 
You ran out of two different herbs needed for these next three orders; without them, you wouldn’t be able to make the medications at all. 
Glancing out the window, you gulped; it wouldn’t be another thirty minutes before the sun set, but after your encounter a few days ago— paired with Soobin’s warning and harsh reality check— you were much more hesitant to go into the woods on your own. 
You could call Soobin— ask him if he’d like to accompany you, stay put until you finally had proper protection. You mulled over the idea for a moment, your traitorous mind whisperering encouraging words in order to see him again; it’s just for protection, you told yourself, walking over to your landline phone before you began to dial his number, tangling the long cord around your fingers absentmindedly as you did; you tried to dismiss the nervous pounding of your heart, the way you bit at your lips in anticipation of hearing his voice again.
“Hello?” you’re gulping slightly at the sound— part of you wasn’t expecting him to actually answer. Clearing your throat softly, you muster up the courage to do what you’ve been hesitant to for so long. 
“Hi Soobin,” you start softly, listening to the small hum of acknowledgement from the other side, “I— I’m sorry to bother, but I just wanted to ask; I have to make another trip to the forest— it’s urgent— and I… well, I was wondering if you’d be able to accompany me. For protection.” 
The shyness and hesitance in your voice is horribly apparent; it makes you face burn and your hands grow clammy, feeling as though there’s a lump in your throat as you wait for him to respond— it feels like eternity, but in reality, it’s merely seconds—- and you’re practically slumping against the wall in relief when he gives you a soft of course I can in response.
“Wait for me inside until I get there,” he says, and you nod, letting out a sound of affirmation as well, “I’ll be quick.” 
Soobin hangs up promptly after; you’re left to scurry around your home in preparation of your trip, changing out of your sullied work clothes and into something more comfortable— inevitably, the same coat from before finds itself wrapped around your form, and as you wait by the doorway with your wicker basket in hand, you realize with a smile that the item is practically drowned in Soobin’s scent— the item is wrapped around you tighter and your nose is burrowed deeply into the soft plush-like material, your senses spinning with the warm, earthy smells that belong to the man. 
The sun is setting— but he’ll be here soon, a fact only proved by the sound of footsteps your keen ears manage to pick up on; you’re practically racing to make it to your front door, only to pause at the sound of something else— more footsteps. 
Instinct brings your body to the floor and away from all windows; your back is pressed up against your door, ear pressed tightly against the wood as you remain alert, subconsciously holding your breath in fear of getting spotted in any way— but whoever is currently surrounding your home knows you’re here, judging by the way they take careful, calculated steps closer to your door— you will your heart to remain calm, to not alert them that you currently lean on the very item separating the two of you, but the fear that courses through your veins is simply too strong. 
Your mind is racing a mile a minute; you try to calculate who it could be, why they’re here— and you’re thinking back to Soobin’s warnings the night before, eyes widening as you scold yourself for being such a naive idiot— because as you pick up of the soft sounds of sniffing and low growls, you realize that you’ve managed to lead a pack of wolves right to your home. 
It all happens too quickly; you’re running from the door at the sudden spike of scents, like a dirty smoke that approaches your door in the blink of an eye— the wood practically flies off its hinges with the way it’s broken into, a scream involuntarily leaving you as you grab the nearest thing to you as a weapon— the fire pit poker is thin and old in your hands, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you back away slowly, taking in the wolves that make their way into your home with sheer terror. 
One, two, three— it’s only three of them, but it’s enough to have your limbs trembling and your ears pressed flat against your head; tall, broad figures, disheveled in appearance and looking at you with eyes dilated, filled with nothing but a carnal hunger that makes your stomach twist into knots. 
It’s a standstill. They watch you with coy smiles and blown out eyes, watching as you press yourself against the wall, wondering if you can make it to the back exit of your home if you try enough— but they’re perceptive to even the most miniscule movement, every twitch of your muscle garnering a step closer from any one of them; you remain still, and so do they. It’s silent, save for the ragged heavings of your chest and the low grumbles that resonate from theirs— they have yet to make a move, locking eyes with the tallest and watching as his lips quirk into a smile.
You feel nauseous. They’re toying with you.
They could easily take you— kill you— in a split second; the second you try to run, they’ll be hot on your heels, outmatched three to one and left at their mercy entirely. And judging by the way they practically salivate at the smell of fear that radiates from you, you don’t think your fate with them will end well.
You gulp. They watch you, keen eyes taking in the way your throat bobs, the tears that fill your eyes— the way your legs look as though they’ll give out on you any moment now, the flimsy poker in your hands nothing but a joke as you point it at them in warning— as though it would do anything, they muse. 
One of them, with a head of ginger hair and eyes sharp as a knife, begins to approach; you tense, bringing the poker forward more, inhaling sharply and taking a step back— but that only garners a sharp growl from another, with pitch black hair and a gaze so threatening it renders you pliant; hesitantly, you meet the eyes of the man who stands before you, narrowed eyes taking you in with amusement. 
He reaches towards you— again you tense, flinching at the movement and weakly yelling at the wolf to stay back—! But it can only come out as a breathless whisper, your entire being rendered useless, instincts doing nothing but telling you that this is it; accept your fate, it tells you, weakening your muscles and sending off waves of fear so thick the room reeks of death and rot; your figure shrinks the moment he grabs your poker, ignoring your clearly empty warning as he lowers it forcefully, fighting easily against any strength you had left. 
“Don’t be afraid,” he smiles, baring his teeth that only makes your blood run cold— sharp canines, strong and in great condition to bite and chew even the toughest of meats— “We’ll take good care of you.”
A sharp growling impedes the man before you from closing in on you, from taking away what little space was left between you— the sound is loud and furious, making the three wolves before you turn immediately in search of the source; including you, the foreign sound making your knees buckle and the poker fall from your hands as you paralyze with fear. 
Standing in the doorway is a figure you remember quite well— the sight of him makes your eyes widen and you heart flicker a dim light of hope, watching the way he sends the three wolves before you a pointed glare, enough to make the two nearest to him avert their eyes the moment his gaze lands on them. 
“Beomgyu,” the wolf near you sneers, “what the hell are you doing?”
He doesn’t bother answering the question; his eyes land on you, on your figure that visibly trembles with fear, nostrils flaring at the scent that radiates from you and fogs the room— and he growls. 
“Get out.” 
It’s a simple command given by the man— Beomgyu—  to the others, eyes filled with an unbridled rage that makes the others flinch; they’re confused, glancing to where you remain frozen before they’re turning back at the man, as though waiting for him to back down on his words— instead, he bares his teeth, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed with rage, and repeats himself. 
“I said, get. Out.”
Silence; you can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you watch the two wolves glance at the man with the bright head of ginger hair— as though looking to him for their next move. The two remain in a standstill, refusing to look away from the other, as though silently communicating. And after what feels like eternity, the wolf near you scoffs, lips upturned in annoyance as he finally looks away— he turns back to you, eyes scanning your shaken figure, and he smiles the moment your eyes meet.
“Don’t expect any mercy from him.”
You’re sure you might be on the verge of fainting as you watch them all exit, one by one; tails practically tucked between their legs, only wolf to make a fuss being the orange-haired one from before; you watch the two of them bare their teeth and make comments you can’t quite pick up on, pressing yourself firmly against the wall and jumping the moment they snap warningly at each other— a threat to bite, the sight of their sharp fangs enough to have you retreating slowly to the exit of your backyard. 
The second his back is turned from you, watching the wolves retreat to the forest, is the second you make an attempt to escape— hurried steps leading you to the kitchen, walking backwards in order to keep an eye on him— your shaking hands remain pressed against the wall in an attempt to keep yourself upright, keen eyesight taking in any small movement from him, body alight with adrenaline as you wait for the moment you can book it. 
His ears, a dark auburn just like his hair, twitch; his head snaps over to where you stand, dilated eyes meeting yours in milliseconds. 
You’re turning around to make a run for it— the floorboards creak behind you from the very sound of Beomgyu running after you, a yelp leaving you involuntarily; your feet are falling harshly on the cool tile of your kitchen, but before you can so much as outstretch your hand and reach for the doorknob of the back exit, strong hands are wrapping around your middle and spinning you around, away from your last taste of freedom. 
“Please!” you cry out aimlessly, a pained groan falling from your lips as your back collides with the wood of your counter; you’re pinned into the very corner, tears pricking at your eyes and weak hands pressing against the strong chest of the wolf before you— your eyes remain glued to the floor, soft tail trembling with abandon and ears willing hopelessly to hide your face. 
“You’re running? After I just saved you?” is all you get in response, his voice gruff and genuine as he remains unfazed at the weak pushes against his chest; his arms cage you in, body impossibly close to yours as he looms over you, watching the way you cower and make yourself shrink with wide, interested eyes. “Why do you run from me, my flower?” 
The pet name makes your stomach lurch; a soft sob escapes you, eyes closing in defeat as your mind makes peace with your demise— your shoulders shake with every attempt of yours to breathe properly, every inhale only flooding your senses and clogging your mind with the scent of the wolf above you, like a thick smoke that burns your lungs and leaves your thoughts impaired.
Beomgyu is all but salivating at the sight of you; your soft, fragile body, the tremble of your limbs, your pure and fluffy ears that are pressed flat atop your head, hands subconsciously gripping onto his shirt in a feeble attempt to keep yourself upright— your heartbeat overwhelms him, quick and panicked just like your scent; it makes his brows pinch together and a confused pout form on his lips, the familiar, delicate flower no longer radiating from your figure.
“Are you scared of me?” he murmurs, ears twitching in curiosity as you remain silent; he leans down, willing to get close even after you continue to shrink away in response, curling into yourself and keeping your chin tucked in dutifully; his hand flies to your waist in attempts to prevent you from shifting away any further, rough claws digging in through your dress and making you jolt in surprise— a shaky breath leaves your lips, the wolf that continues to inch closer to you, cocking his head in fascination. His eyes all but burn through your skin. 
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, lips brushing against your temple as he speaks; you remain frozen, stiff, feeling the way he continues to wander down, nosing at you softly in search for a sign of that sweet, intoxicating smell you once gave off. 
“You’re safe with me— remember?”
Your voice remains stuck inside you— all you can muster is another shaky breath as you feel his lips brush against your jaw, wandering along until he’s at your ear— then he trails down, forcing your head to tilt as his nose runs a soft line along the column; a weak whimper falls from your parted lips the moment he presses down against your pulse point, feeling him inhale slowly before he presses a soft kiss against your sensitive neck— like an automatic reaction, warmth blooms from the spot, spreading through your body, your heart telling you to calm down— but you refuse, and though Beomgyu is able to smell the sweet vanilla and the flowers that blooms from his action, it all dies into one muddled mess that leaves him to huff frustratedly. 
His hands have begun to wander— large and warm, sharp claws scratching at your garments and running up your sides before he hugs you tight, pressing your figure flush against his— and as have his lips, pressing soft kisses against your scent gland repeatedly, in search of the scent that he was only granted a mere glimpse of— soft, careful kisses at first, listening to the way you whimper and cry against him, trembling hands balling up his shirt in your fists— only to feel himself grow more desperate, out of control, his lips parted and harsh as he presses his kisses against one of the weakest points in your body. 
Beomgyu’s nose is sharp, is able to pick up on even the slightest changes within your scent— so when he picks up on the warm, subtle twinge of vanilla that peeks through everything else, he’s unable to find himself exhibiting restraint. Warm and wet, you feel his tongue press against your skin, the sharp, accidental scratch of his fangs following after— and you gasp, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you as your mind finally processes what his intentions truly are, feeling your instincts take over soon after— the moment of clarity passes, and your vision fogs; your body melts against Beomgyu’s.
You’ve been sandwiched between the counter and Beomgyu’s body; even more so now that Beomgyu’s felt you submit to him, head lolling to the side and displaying your most fragile part to him, a smell of vanilla, warm and sweet like a pastry, filling his lugs soon after— you’re presenting yourself to him, eyes glassy and lips parted as you simply let out a shaky exhale. 
Your legs are parted with every attempt Beomgyu makes to get closer to you, feeling him stand in between them as he continues to cage you in, continues to kiss and lick along your exposed skin, huffing and sighing in satisfaction with every soft keen you let out in response, your mind and soul still convinced that your time has come to an end. 
From a distance, Soobin senses it; he sees the dim lights of your cottage, the door that is left ajar, crooked on its hinges— most of all, he’s able to pick up on the intoxicating sweetness that escapes from the cottage, the innocent jasmine that’s intertwined with the scent that travels with the wind— and his ears stand straight, keen senses straining to hear the soft sob that leaves your delicate lips— his body reacts before he can, and he runs straight to you. 
The sharp call of your name is all Soobin can get out before he stumbles to a stop at the kitchen doorway— his eyes remain wide and focused on the sight before him, body on edge and tail stiff as he grits his teeth in rage. 
Your doe eyes meet his instantly— they’re shining and incoherent, and Soobin wonders if you’re even conscious of where you are, of the way you whine out his name in the most fragile tone he’s ever heard. The rest of you is covered— you’ve been pressed tightly against the kitchen counter, back arching backwards due to the sheer pressure of the body that weighs you down; ragged clothing covers your own, the pink coat obscured by a white flowing, dirtied white button up, falling off the owner’s shoulder and pooling at his elbow— Soobin’s eyes follow the line of movement, taking in his arms disappear behind your waist, forcing your lower halves to be glued together, your dress bunched up at your thighs from the crude way they’ve been forced open. 
“Soobin,” you whine again, taking his attention as he watches a hand of yours appear from where they were caged in, outstretching shakily toward him before it falls limp, hanging over the arm that pulls you closer against him. 
Dark, long hair covers the face that is buried in your neck— ears of the same color adorn the top, twitching with interest at the sound before they stand forward— roughly, the head emerges from its hiding place, eyes blown open with nothing short of hunger; the wolf before Soobin bares his teeth and growls, hugging you tighter against him, stepping back and shielding you away from the dog’s view. 
Soobin doesn’t hesitate to mimic the other’s threats— he means every bit of it and more, face alight with rage and body poised in an aggressive stance— and though your face has been tucked into the wolf’s chest, though the arms that wrap around your body attempt to prevent you from being seen at all, Soobin is still able to catch glimpse of your tail that quivers with fear, of your figure that shakes pathetically from instinct. 
Loud, angry growls and spiked scents fill your senses and leaves you docile; Soobin’s sharp, strong pine mixes with Beomgyu’s thick, intoxicating smoke, painting the scene of a burning forest as they continue to warn the other, narrowed gazes and sharp canines creating yet another standstill. 
Beomgyu’s eyes catch onto Soobin’s restlessness with ease— and before he’s able to make a move, Beomgyu is manipulating your body once more, spinning you around and pressing your back firmly against him, feeling the way you follow his every command without a second thought— and when you present yourself to him for a second time from pure instinct, Beomgyu grins; his eyes lock with Soobin’s and his head cranes down, dangerously close to your scent gland that continues to release its tempting smell.
“Stay.” is all Beomgyu growls out, eyeing the way Soobin freezes immediately, wide eyes watching the way Beomgyu’s mouth opens, tongue lolling out lazily before it’s running slowly against your shoulder, gliding along until it stops dutifully against the joint of your neck, pressing down to feel your pulse— Soobin flinches, undoubtedly wanting to lunge forward, but is stopped again by the wicked smile Beomgyu sends him, sharp canines meticulously on display. 
You’re all left frozen— Beomgyu’s arm that has been thrown around your waist toys with the hem of your cute coat, the other that presses against your heart feeling the quick pounding against his palm— and he laughs, inching his hand up slowly until it’s around your neck, his index and thumb exuding little effort to keep your head upright, watching your eyes slowly meet Soobin’s.
“Any sudden moves,” Beomgyu begins again, eyes flickering down to your neck, watching the quick rise and fall of your chest with fascination, feeling the way your throat constricts with every swallow against his palm— and he smiles, looking back at Soobin and allowing his tongue to run over the top row of his teeth leisurely, “and she’s mine to claim.”
Silence; Soobin takes a moment to weigh his options, to inspect the scenery before him— the wolf means it, Soobin is quick to realize, seeing the way he all but drools over your exposed neck and faint figure— and he meets your eyes again, attempting to decipher what you may be thinking, only to realize that you’re not composed at all; you’ve been stripped down to nothing but your basic survival instincts, and yet it seems as though your brain has told you that it’s best to give up any fight you have left inside you.
Soobin feels his jaw ache from the way his teeth grit together angrily— and with a soft huff, he becomes the first to look away from Beomgyu entirely, turning his head in defeat and forcing his body to back down. 
“Good dog,” Beomgyu coos mockingly, grinning unabashedly at the sight of Soobin’s face twisting up in anger; he turns to you, placing a slow, lingering kiss on your cheek before he murmurs softly into your ear. “My flower, don’t you want to show him how perfect you are for me?” 
Beomgyu doesn’t expect a response from you; the way you whine and shift restlessly against him is enough, having already felt him rutting against you the moment he had you caged against the counter— and he continues to do so, even now, the hand on your throat forcing you to tilt your head, allowing him access to suck and bite on the clean canvas of your skin; your eyes flutter shut, and you’re left to rely on his strength to hold you upright, body rocking gently with every thrust that is delivered from the wolf behind you. 
“So sweet for me,” Beomgyu groans, his hands letting go of their respective places before they begin getting busy; your legs feel shaky and you’re left to watch as he undoes the ties of your coat, slipping it off before he reaches to bunch your thin skirt at your waist— you gasp softly, face heating up at the feeling of being so exposed, hands flying to pull down your skirt on instinct— but you’re granted no such reprieve, stilling immediately as a growl leaves Beomgyu’s lips at your action.
Soobin’s head is snapping back at the two of you at the sound of the threat— his eyes widen and he inhales sharply, a clear mistake that only makes Beomgyu grin— your scent, thick and progressively needier, clouds Soobin’s mind, clouds his judgment, unable to do anything more than stare at the way Beomgyu has you in his arms, canines still glittering under the soft lights of your home as a constant warning. 
“You smell it too,” Beomgyu speaks, his words less of a question and more of a fact— Soobin’s eyes dilate and his nostrils flare that moment Beomgyu’s lithe fingers begin to wander around the hem of your panties, feeling your thighs press together and your hands grip at his forearm shyly; from Soobin’s distance, he’s able to pick up on the tears that hang on your waterline, the way your lip quivers from the humiliation of being exposed so crudely. 
“Innocent thing…” Beomgyu murmurs, dipping down to swipe the pad of his middle finger across your slit, listening to the yelp that escapes your lips, feeling your body buckle against him— and sure enough, a spike of your scent follows after, like an addicting toxin that only fuels the desire of the two canines before you, “So tempting. So good.” 
You’re crying softly at the way he continues to tease you, overwhelmed by the foreign sensation, mouth parting in shock as his hand sneaks past the waistband of your panties; you feel as though shocks of electricity flow through you the moment he brushes against your clit, teasingly at first, only to begin circling it steadily soon after— and you can only moan and whine for more, unknowingly bucking your hips forward in search for something else that can satisfy you. 
When your eyes meet Soobin’s, you can only feel a hot wave of shame flow through you— his expression is unreadable; is he embarrassed of you? Disgusted, ashamed that you have already given in to the simplest threats? You’re not remotely near as strong as he is, you defend yourself mentally, you’re sure that it was either this or— or…
“You filthy mutt,” Beomgyu spits out beside you, laughing softly at the way Soobin has yet to take his eyes off you, eyes narrowed meanly and brows tugged together, an expression that could be easily read as rage— but Beomgyu knows better, watching as the said man jumps at the sudden sound of the other’s voice, gaze hardening the moment they lock eyes; Beomgyu huffs out another mocking laugh.��
“You like this, don’t you?” Beomgyu asks, as though he were sharing a secret— behind you, you feel his hips buck against you, able to feel the hardness of his cock as he uses his free hand to press just below your navel, forcing you back on him— and you gasp, his ministrations against your clit never ceasing as he continues to fuck against you slowly, groaning breathlessly at the feeling of your warm body against him; Beomgyu’s eyes never leave Soobin’s, however, pupils filled with nothing but a mocking joy as he continues breathlessly.
“You want her.”
Another wave of arousal floods though you at his words, filling the room and reaching the two men before you with ease; you’re able to see and feel the way their chests rise slowly, the way they take in your essence before letting out pleased sighs, their own strong, heady scents filling your senses as you simply flutter your eyes shut and whine with need.
“No need to deny it,” Beomgyu grins, leaning his head against yours fondly, middle finger abandoning your clit to tease your entrance, your mouth falling open and hips twitching in surprise at the feeling— the man behind you simply watches with amusement, watches the way you meet Soobin’s gaze shyly, body heated up with embarrassment as you can only let out pathetic cries and breathless gasps with every new stimulation— and Beomgyu’s finger enters you slowly, meticulously, angling himself just right; your vision is fogging at the stretch, hands gripping onto the strong forearm that helps keep your upright as you merely beg for more. 
“I’m sure she’d love to give you a show,” he continues, palm pressing against your clit, other hand guiding your hips to roll steadily against his hand— he chuckles softly at the way you’re pliant for him, following his every command without a second thought, “filthy, greedy thing.” 
Though Beomgyu directs those comments at you with a voice of acid-like hatred, the way he stares at you is anything but; his eyes are just as keen as the rest of him, willing to not miss a single reaction you make for him, from the way your voice breaks with need to the way your fingers twitch helplessly against his skin— his body buzzes with a desperate energy, his cock pulsing and begging to be inside you the longer he feels you rock helplessly against him— lucky for him, you seem to be getting just as desperate. 
“Get your filthy hands off her,” Soobin seethes, though he’s unable to make a move to get you away— a single twitch of his tail enough to garner a harsh sneer from Beomgyu, teeth snapping together in warning— the idea of having you claimed, taken, and possibly killed by the monstrosity that holds you hostage is enough to keep Soobin complacent for now, undoubtedly waiting for the moment the wolf no longer has easy access to such a vital part of you to make his move.
Beomgyu doesn’t heed the other’s comment— if anything, he laughs, prodding a second finger at your entrance, forcing the other to listen to the way you perk up and cry in panic, poor inexperienced body not used to the stretch, to the curve of his fingers as he presses against your soaking, tightening walls, calloused skin making you shiver as he forces you to grind against him, to fuck yourself on his fingers. 
“Hmm? Don’t touch her?” Beomgyu asks, curious fingers stretching you open slowly, grinning at the way you throw your head back against his shoulder and whine, a hand slapping over the arm that currently fucks your slowly, pressing against it in feeble attempts of getting more, “What, does it upset you that you won’t be getting to her first?” 
With a particularly calculated thrust of Beomgyu’s fingers, you’re jolting up and letting out a broken moan; he proceeds to continue to abuse the weak spot within you cruelly, watching with an amused gaze as you continue to fall apart against him like clockwork. You’re getting wound up quite quickly, not used to the intense feeling of pleasure being provided to you— and Beomgyu takes in the sight eagerly, smiling in amusement before he’s stopping abruptly, watching your head hang and your chest heave from the sudden loss of stimulation. 
“Does it anger you?” his fingers slide out from your cunt slowly; you twitch at the feeling of emptiness, barely processing the way his hand slowly snakes its way back up, grabbing at your neck and forcing you to look forward again— his fingers, covered in your arousal, prod at your mouth, and in your dumbed state, you can only follow his commands and part your lips dutifully; your tongue circles around his digits and your lips close around them, flushed face painting a lewd scene that only makes Soobin tense; beside you, Beomgyu smiles wickedly. 
“Knowing that you’re about to watch her get fucked open— get knotted good— by a wolf?” 
Soobin thinks he might be seeing red at this point; his hands remain by his side, closed into a tight fist that has his nails threatening to break through his skin— but that’s the least of his worries, especially with the way your ears twitch and your body perks up at the wolf’s words— both of the men are able to pick up on your reaction with ease, one clearly much happier than the other at the sight. 
“You know, if you behave, I might give you a turn.” Beomgyu looks over at you, chuckling softly before he removes his fingers from your mouth, only to grab at your face and turn it roughly to look at him; his fingers dig into your cheeks and his forehead presses against yours, taking one glance at your hazy expression before he’s cooing softly. “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
All you can do is muster a broken whine in response. 
Beomgyu is letting go of your face with a soft chuckle; slowly, you muster the courage to look forward once more, inevitably meeting Soobin’s gaze as a result— his expression is unreadable, and it makes your knees feel weak— your mind races to try and decipher what he may be thinking about, left unaware of the way Beomgyu has let go of your dress, letting the skirt fall slowly over your front as he busies himself in lifting it from the back instead, allowing himself access and grazing your skin curiously; it is only then that you’re coming back to your senses, heart rate picking up with a panic and body bristling the moment you feel the wolf’s hands wandering across the swell of your ass, muttering soft praise that doesn’t quite reach you— a firm hand grabs at your waist, keeping you in place the moment you tried to shift away from him shyly, tried to cover yourself with a weak protests that only garnered yet another growl; with wide eyes, you looked to Soobin, unaware of the helplessness that coated your glassy pupils. 
“Soobin,” you cry yet again, blood growing cold at the way he simply seems to stand and watch; his gaze seems to have wandered, seems to have been following Beomgyu’s every action, adam’s apple bobbing at the sudden sound of impact that filled the room, the sound of your yelp followed by the sight of your pathetic hands attempting to swat Beomgyu away, easily overpowered the moment the wolf gathers your wrists in his tight hold and scolds you to stay still, his claws digging threateningly into the soft skin— and again, your head whips back around to look at Soobin, ignoring the keen stance of his ears and the slow, interested sway of his tail as you simply call out to him again, “Soobin, please…”
You’re not sure what you’re begging for any more. All you know now is the feeling of Beomgyu’s broad chest pressed against yours, the muddy feeling of your brain as smoke fills your lungs, allowing your head to loll back against his shoulder, allowing your hips to begin to grind back against the hard bulge that has begun to tease you, shivering softly at the way Beomgyu’s head remains buried in your shoulder, pulling you back against him firmly— you barely register the way your voice whines in protest the moment you feel his lips pull away from your delicate skin, abandoning the gentle kisses and sucks to sneer triumphantly, his low voice a half-hearted replica of yours as he proceeds to parrot your words softly. 
“Soobin…” Beomgyu sing-songs, reaching his free hand down to tug at the waistband of your panties, soaked through with arousal that leaves your inner thighs shining pathetically; the said man is snapped out of his trance immediately, enticed gaze hardening the second his eyes find Beomgyu, chin perched on your shoulder leisurely as he continues to tug your panties down, feeling the way they slip down your hips ever-so slowly, “Soobin, come here.”
When Soobin refuses, Beomgyu scoffs— though, he doesn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest. 
“Come on Soobin,” Beomgyu repeats again, softly this time, eyes half-lidded as his mouth dips down to kiss your skin; right at your scent gland, tongue darting out before his eyes dart up to lock eyes with Soobin— you can feel goosebumps form on your skin as Beomgyu laughs breathily, mouth still open as he proceeds to nip at the spot gently; not enough to break skin, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make you squeal and jolt in surprise. Soobin flinches. 
“Come.”
It takes a pleading look from your tear-brimmed eyes for him to move. A slow, hesitant step first, pausing momentarily to gauge Beomgyu’s reaction— the said man quirks a brow in amusement, a silent encouragement to continue— and Soobin finally finds himself looming over the two of you, eyes dark and narrowed as he watches you reach out for him with a trembling hand— curling his shirt into your fists, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his chest, body unintentionally arched forward and left in the perfect position for the man behind you— Beomgyu simply coos softly at the action, a false sense of endearment that makes Soobin’s teeth grit with rage; when their eyes meet, the wolf simply smiles. 
“Kiss her,” Beomgyu says, the words almost inaudible from how softly they were uttered— but then he’s grabbing at your head and forcing you to look back up, ignoring the sound of protest you make and holding you up by your jaw as he tilts your head to look at Soobin, fingers squeezing your cheeks and forcing them into a soft pout, “Go on. She’s dying for you to touch her.”
Beomgyu speaks as though he were the one in control of your body and mind— and perhaps he is, you find yourself thinking, teary eyes unable to communicate anything more than want as you feel your panties slowly dragging down your thighs, the wolf behind you hissing softly at the sight of the string of arousal that sticks to the fabric, your slick cunt tightening around nothing in response— Beomgyu’s fingers find themselves teasing your entrance again, three this time, dipping in and out of your cunt, stretching you yet leaving you craving for more.
“I…” Soobin breathes out, reaching out slowly for your face; Beomgyu’s rough hand retreats, and it’s replaced by Soobin’s large, gentle ones that cup your face and stroke your cheekbones, watching the way your eyes flutter up to look at him, tears clinging to your lashes like crystals; his eyes follow the path one makes as it falls, thumb wiping it away softly as he finds himself leaning closer, watches the way your lids fall and leave your eyes hazy and obedient.
This is it, Soobin realizes, eyes flickering back to where Beomgyu continues to tease you, much too lost in the sight of your cunt trying desperately to suck in his nimble fingers to pay much attention to the two of you, this is his chance— he can save you. 
You seem to catch onto Soobin’s calculative gaze quite quickly this time— and your heart flutters with a slight hope, your chest falling in quick, shallow breaths as your hands tighten against the fabric of his shirt— his eyes flicker back to yours from the action, taking in the way they hold that innocent light of yours he’s always adored— and his heart breaks. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 
There’s nothing you can say to that; his lips are on yours before you can so much as let out another breath. They’re soft, hesitant, as though you could shatter if he touched you wrong. His hands shake slightly as he holds your face close to his, feels the way your mouth remains frozen for a second, only reciprocating once you’ve felt the soft pass of his tongue against you— and your overwhelmed mind blanks entirely. For the final time tonight, you submit. 
The kiss is slow, it’s deepening out of your control, and it’s everything you imagined many moons ago, when you first began to feel a spark of desire for the man before you— when you swooned and flustered at the comfort you found in him, the warm feeling that always settled in your chest when he was next to you, knowing you could always go to him for protection. 
So as you feel his hold on you become firmer, feel the way he sighs against your mouth with no intentions to let you go soon, you wonder what it is you feel now— trapped between the two canines, lungs burning and and mouth left open as you allow Soobin to venture inside, not allowed any reprieve from the man who keeps you close, a soft groan leaving your lips as your sensitive ears pick up on foreign, slick sounds behind you, hisses and sighs of pleasure from another— because the feeling that pools in your stomach isn’t remotely reminiscent of the gentle, delicate warmth you always felt around Soobin; it’s hotter, angrier, greedier— it begs to be satiated and throws away the last good sense of judgment you had within you. 
“Soobin— oh god, Soobin—” you hiccup suddenly, finally able to escape from the said man’s mouth that seems to chase endlessly after yours; even now, you still can’t help but cry for him, your body unprepared for the sudden feeling of a cockhead swiping at your slit, the wet noises that arise from the sheer arousal that continues to leak out of you. You cry and you beg with hot shame burning at your skin, unsure of whether you plead for mercy or for more— your body arches and your hips seek for more, cunt throbbing at the feeling of Beomgyu’s tip pressing at your entrance, his rough hands rubbing circles along your ass absentmindedly, but your heart twists and makes a thick lump build in your throat, wishing nothing more than to be experiencing this all differently, in the comfort of your room and in the secure, warm embrace of the man in front of you— you wish for something more intimate, something as gentle as the love you felt. 
But all Soobin does is watch. He strokes your hair with a slow hand and cups your cheek fondly, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before wandering down to press another at the tip of your nose— and he soaks up the pitiful sounds that make your voice break, feeling your hands attempt to steady themselves against him as Beomgyu begins to enter you; slowly, salivating at the way he feels your walls stretch around him, struggling to adjust to merely the tip— he stares down at your dripping pussy with a parted mouth, letting out a slow breath at the sight of your legs that threaten to buckle and your fluffy tail that goes wild with every inch he eases in— and he finds himself having to take deep breaths to not take you as he wants then and there.
“It’s okay. I know, I know— I’m right here, I’m right here with you,” Soobin murmurs against your skin, placing slow kisses along your jaw, allowing you to duck into the crook of his neck for solace— and he smooths your hair as he feels you nuzzle into him, eyes hooking onto the sight over your shoulder of Beomgyu entering you, the feeling of his hips flush against your ass bringing about another shuddered sigh from your lips, nails digging into Soobin’s chest as you attempt to overcome the new sensations. 
“I got you, don’t worry my doll,” Soobin utters, a hand going to place itself on top of your own, intertwining his fingers with yours before he begins to weigh it down, to guide it down his chest— he lets out a shaky sigh, feeling you cry and squirm against him, “It’s okay… just relax and you’ll feel good, okay?” 
“Don’t you wanna feel good?” Soobin coos against your temple, eyes fluttering shut as he feels you nod against his shoulder, feels the way your hand has successfully breached past his underwear, pants already undone and still guided by his much larger hand as he brings you to palm him slowly, wrapping your shaky fingers around his length; you’re hesitant, unsure of your actions as you allow Soobin to show you what to do— though, you don’t think your brain has truly processed what he’s doing with you yet, preoccupied instead by the thick smoke along with another smell that leaves you feeling lightheaded, along with the feeling of hands groping and smoothing over your skin as a heavy cock continues to twitch inside you. 
Beomgyu isn’t quite fond by your sudden shift of attention; his lips remain upturned in distaste, watching intently as Soobin continues to use you however he likes, your face that remains hidden in his neck directly able to smell the calming, dizzying scent Soobin exudes, placating you and dumbing you down to nothing but a fuckdoll for him— his eyes trail down to where he has you jerking him off slowly, Soobin’s lips pressing kisses to the top of your head as he continues to murmur soft praises that have you melting against him— an unfamiliar, hot streak of rage courses through Beomgyu’s system at the sight. 
“So ungrateful,” Beomgyu scolds suddenly, reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and bring you back— he’s forceful, uncaring of the way you protest, an arm that’s wrapped around your stomach pressing you flush against him as he forces the two of you to move— and you’re left bent over the counter, face pressed against the wood and wrists secured behind your back as Beomgyu bunches the skirt of your dress at your hips and bottoms out inside you once again; you hiss at the feeling, looking to the side to see that Soobin is unfazed by the action— if anything, his eyes cloud with lust at the scene before him, taking in the way you’re stuffed full and arched prettily with a gulp. 
“Why won’t you pay attention to me?” Beomgyu asks breathlessly, looking down at your pliant figure with blown out eyes, tail whipping side to side in anger as he catches the way your gaze still seeks out Soobin’s, eyes unknowingly pleading for reassurance— and he growls, low and heavy in his throat, catching the attention of both of you successfully— but he only cares to have your eyes on him, fully engrossed in the way your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back the moment he ruts into you with rough, slow thrusts. 
“Look at me,” Beomgyu groans, pulling out slowly as he speaks, all the way out until the tip of his cock is the only thing catching at your entrance. You’re squirming, trying to move your hips back against him, but the brutal hold Beomgyu has on you keeps you in place; ears pressed flat against your head, you look over your shoulder, back at the wolf who continues to fuck his tip into you with subtle thrusts, sneering at your glassy eyes that continue to look at him with a jarring innocence. 
“That’s right,” he breathes, sinking into you oh so slowly, filling you up and laughing cruelly at the way your hands scramble to hold onto something for stability, for a simple comfort Beomgyu denies, “Eyes on me.” 
Beomgyu fucks you to prove a point; he fucks you so your eyes roll back and your mouth spills moans and whines dumbly, cock filling you to the brim and stretching you out in a way you never knew was possible— the sounds are lewd and has your skin burning, slick, wet sounds of skin against skin filling up the room and mixing along with your cries of pleasure. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to be doing any better than you, transfixed entirely on the sight of your cunt sucking him in eagerly, dripping with slick that makes his cock shine and falls to the floor in a mess, of your ass that ripples with every smack of his hips against you— this is all so new to you, he can tell, your body buzzing with an insatiable need that turns you into nothing more than a cock-hungry whore, your tail wiggling desperately with every harsh thrust of his, as though hypnotizing him to keep going.
The sight of you— a drooling, crying, moaning mess— is the polar opposite of your sweet, naive self, your trusting self that got you into this situation in the first place— and it makes Soobin’s cock twitch with raw lust, the spectacle of you becoming ruined so easily something he never thought he’d witness; such a pure thing, Soobin always felt as though you needed to be treated like glass— but Beomgyu is more than willing to prove that’s not the case with you, growling pure filth at you as he continues to fuck you into the counter, watching the way he hovers over you, practically caging you in with his body, as though wishing for the two of you to become one. And just like before, Soobin watches. He stands to the side and listens to every sweet mewl of yours attentively— after all, he’ll get his hands on you soon enough.
“Tight little cunt— fuckin’ takes me so well,” Beomgyu murmurs into your ear, panting and groaning at the way you tighten around him, “such a good girl for me— shit, you like that? Like it when I talk nice to you?”
Beomgyu is quick to catch onto every little reaction of yours, including the way you tighten hopelessly around him every time he sings soft praises into your ears; it makes you want to hide your face in shame and deny his questions, but you barely get a chance to speak with the way he fucks you— fat cock stretching you out, leaving you speechless as he continues to pound into you firmly, sloppy mouth nipping and marking all over your neck; feeling him on your shoulders and back, canines brutishly ripping at your clothes to get more access to your innocent skin, feeling the way your walls squeeze with every scratch of his sharp teeth against you, eager to get his lips onto any part of you he can. 
“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, you’re— shit– you’re squeezing me so tight, can barely fuck you,” he rambles off, hand letting go of your wrists so he can grab your hips and pull you back onto him— you’re wailing at the feeling, hands failing to stabilize you as you hold onto the counter, eyes screwed shut as you babble at Beomgyu to slow down— but of course, he doesn’t listen, too caught up in the feeling of you to pay any attention, “Oh, are you close, sweet thing? I can feel you— can feel you getting closer.”
“Do you wanna cum?” He asks you in that same, sweet voice laced with faux pity, smiling unabashedly at the way you immediately nod in response, giving in to his brutal pace, “tell me how bad you want it then.” 
“Please… please let me…” you trail off, unable to communicate properly with the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you, not granting you any mercy as he watches you struggle, “need– need t’cum, want it, feels so good.” 
Beomgyu laughs, the sound labored and breathy from the way you clench around him throughout it; he finds himself glancing over to where Soobin continues to watch, the sight of him focused entirely on your figure making him sneer— his eyes are hypnotized by you and his ears twitch at every weak word that spills from your mouth, lips parted as he all but drools for you— the drastic contrast in character has Beomgyu’s lips twitching in amusement, wondering just where that overprotective bodyguard of yours has gone.
“Yeah? Am I making you feel good?” he mocks, watching as your bowed head nods instantly; he huffs, glancing back at Soobin before he coos softly at you, “Who’s making you feel so nice? Tell me, pretty thing.”
The sudden mention of the pet name is enough to set you off unexpectedly; your mind goes blank entirely, save for a single thought that continues to roll of your tongue like a mantra: 
“Beomgyu,” you cry, sobs wracking at your body from the intense feeling, your voice interrupted with loud, uncontrollable moans, “You— it’s you– Beomgyu— please, please— too much…!”
Beomgyu continues to fuck you until your legs tremble and your body weight is placed entirely on the counter, hips held up entirely by the strength of the man behind you as he finally heeds your pleas; he slows until he’s bottomed out inside you, feeling the way your walls continue to pulse as you whimper quietly at the sensitivity— such a touchy thing, Beomgyu muses to himself, looking down at your messy cunt and feeling the way his cock twitches, still in need to fill you up properly.
“Can’t take anymore?” Beomgyu asks apathetically— and though you weakly let out a sound of affirmation, you can tell he doesn’t really care to hear your answer; not with the way he strokes at your skin in fascination, wandering hand pulling at the base of your tail and watching you squeal in surprise, body arching in an attempt to get away— you all but slump into a pool of overstimulation once he finally lets you go, foggy mind barely able to pick up the way he tsks. 
“Don’t lie— you can, I’m sure you can,” Beomgyu tuts, watching with amusement as you pout and petulantly shake your head, “you’re a good girl, you can take whatever we give you.” 
You don’t seem to process the meaning of his words to a full extent— you’re too far gone to do so, body turned weak as you continue to try and stabilize yourself, chest heaving with every breath you take. But it doesn’t matter if you’ve caught on to what’s happening around you, your every movement taken care of by the two men that cage you in— your shudder at the feeling of Beomgyu pulling out of you, the slick sound drowned out by the crude praises Beomgyu growls; two, strong hands are pulling you up next, proceeding to maneuver you so you sit on the counter— Soobin stands between your legs, looking at you with eyes filled with want and an undeniable pity; he takes in your worn, marked and messy figure intently, watching as his eyes linger on the rips of your dress and the marks all around your shoulders. His hands go up to the area, and your eyes flutter shut, body craving to be covered, to be coddled and tidied. 
“Such a perfect doll for me,” Soobin sighs out, beginning to tug down at what’s left of the material, watching the way you shudder and open your eyes with a slight shock— a whine bubble up at the back of your throat, but you can’t really find the strength to protest the way you’re slowly left undressed before the two pairs of hungry eyes before you, no longer able to find the energy to feel embarrassment from being left bare— Soobin’s voice is as gentle as his movements, feeling him lift your hips so he can slide the dress off you properly; it wasn’t very hard to do anyway, the fabric practically hanging together by a single thread, “It’s alright… I’ve got you.” 
When Soobin wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you off the counter, you can only wrap your arms around his shoulders and lean your forehead on his shoulder, seeking for more of the scent that calms you down and leaves you mindless; your grip tightens the moment you feel the head of his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he sighs out shakily at the feeling of your sensitive walls fluttering at the feeling— he’s stretching you out slowly, filling you up, and all you can do is bury your head into his neck and try to calm your breathing, taking in the thick sage that fills your senses.
Soobin stays buried deep inside you for a moment, cursing at the tight embrace of your heat around him; you allow yourself to relax— it doesn’t last long though, body jolting with shocks as you feel another head poking at your already stuffed cunt. 
“Wait— wait– I can’t— too full, it won’t fit…!” you cry out, looking at Soobin in a panic; a broad chest pressed firmly against your back, familiar lips pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder— Soobin’s eyes are dark as he takes you in, ears forward and twitching at your pleas; softly, he shakes his head in reassurance.
“You can,” is all Soobin murmurs, watching your face twist as Beomgyu begins to push into you— little by little, stretching you past your limits, resting his chin on your shoulder and shutting his eyes at the sensitive feeling— tears stream down your cheeks freely, soft hiccups escaping you as Beomgyu’s hips press flush against you from behind; Soobin reaches up to caress your head, to pet gently at your ears, and smiles. “See? You’re doing so well. You can take it.”
You shake your head to refute his claims— but it’s not as though that would change the way they’ve begun to slowly pull out, setting their individual paces that inevitably work together, leaving you full no matter what— and it has your head falling back, mouth falling open dumbly as they begin to fuck you; slowly at first, gently, only because your poor cunt has yet to adjust to the size of them. But once they feel the way you leak onto them, the way your cunt begins to clench as their tips ram into places that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, they begin to find the confidence to use you how they want. 
Eventually, you’re nothing but putty in their arms; weakly grabbing onto anything you can for support, one finding a firm grip onto Soobin’s shoulder as the other ventured to tangle itself in Beomgyu’s hair— the said man continues to keep his head buried in your neck, lips having a mind of their own as he continues to nose at your scent gland; the action of him nuzzling against it, of him scenting you, is enough to have you a whining mess, fingers tugging at his hair desperately; it only serves to have him fuck into you harder, hips snapping ruthlessly against yours and rough groans escaping him from the pleasure. 
“Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight— ah,” Soobin groans, watching as your eyes flutter open to look at him, teary and catching the moonlight that shines down through the window; he cups your cheek, stroking at your cheekbone fondly as he speaks, “so pretty… you’re so pretty, all I’ve ever wanted— god, you’re perfect.”
The look of adoration Soobin gives you isn’t lost on you entirely— but there’s something else that rears its head within his gaze, hungry and desperate, threatening to swallow you whole— and you realize that, for the first time ever, Soobin seems to be staring at you as though you were nothing but prey; something for him to claim and own. 
But it seems as though he’s not the only one who possesses those particular feelings— Beomgyu’s pace seems to be growing erratic behind you, knocking you forward against Soobin’s chest and leaving you to wail at the feeling of his cock ruthlessly pounding into you, uncaring of the rhythm the other has set in place; he mumbles gruff words against your neck, but it’s all muffled and interrupted by huffed out moans he lets out in between— but your poor cunt seems to catch onto what he might be saying quite clearly. 
“C-close, oh shit, ‘m so close,” Beomgyu says, finally perking up from his place in the crook of your neck to speak directly into your ear, placing sloppy kisses at your jaw as he does, “Ah, d’you feel that? Yeah? Want me to cum inside you?”
You know what his question really entails— you know what your answer should be. But your body simply trembles and your brain short circuits at the thought, traitorous to the last bits of reasoning within you as you dumbly nod at his request; he lets out a moan at the sight. 
“Yeah, you do, don’t you? Want my knot, wanna be bred— ffffuck, I’ll give it to you, I’ll knot you, make you mine,” his every movement has become erratic; Soobin finds it hard to continue fucking you, undeniably sensitive to the harsh pace the other has set— but Beomgyu doesn’t care, leaning in close to your ear to whisper his next words. 
“I’ll claim you,” he breathes out, enjoying the way your little tail thrashes against him at the sound, panic filling your tone for a second before you melt into the idea, too fucked out to be able to refuse anymore— if anything, you tighten like a vice around the two, bringing out sensitive sounds from the two; Beomgyu continues to ramble into your ear, much bolder now that he’s taken control of the situation. 
“You want it— oh fuck, yeah, you’ll make such a pretty mate, all for me,” he growls, his words slipping to the other’s ears and alerting him, his eyes widening yet his pace not stopping, “all mine— mine, mine mine— o-oh, shit—!”
It all happens so fast. The swelling of a knot inside you, stretching you out to the point where you find yourself sobbing, pawing at whatever you can and begging for them to slow down, to be gentle— hot cum fills you, your cunt only able to handle so much as Soobin’s cock is pushed out, just enough so his own knot doesn’t catch, his orgasm triggering immediately after— it’s so much, yet it’s not enough, your whole being pulsing with desire for the final thing to push you to the edge— and it comes in the form of sharp canines digging deep into your neck. 
The right side of your neck stings— then, your left. Two sets of teeth have found their home within your skin, the last of your freedom stripped away as your orgasm swallows you whole— you tremble and you twitch within their hold, cunt filled and leaking with their cum, unable to do anything more than lie within their embrace and take what they give you. 
Your eyes feel heavy; you will yourself to stay awake, but your vision becomes spotted within moments— for the first time in a while, your mind is able to find peace.
 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  
When you finally wake, you find yourself surrounded by warmth; with heavy blankets over your figure, you’re able to recognize the place as your room. You attempt to look around, but are immediately met with a searing pain— the night’s events flood through your mind all at once, and suddenly, you’re able to sense the presence of two others next to you; their arms wrap around you and they remain glued to your side, one embrace much more familiar than the other. 
Through your line of sight, you’re able to spot the moon that peaks through your window, hovering just above the dark, looming canopy of the forest. You stare and you stare, unsure of what to make of everything— of what you’re feeling, of the bodies that shift beside you, pulling you closer to them, as though it could never be enough. 
Your eyes sting, and after a second, you find yourself mourning. Mourning for your loss of freedom, for the overwhelming amount of sensations you were put through, and for this complex, dangerous situation you’ve been thrust into. 
You were warned of the forest; you were warned that nothing good came from venturing within. 
But even then, nothing could have saved you from the creatures that roamed beyond.
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itsmearia01 · 3 months
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Past Love || Prolog
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Various! Yandere! Jujutsu kaisen x Sukuna's past wife! Itadori's best friend! F! Reader
A/N : English is not my first language, sorry if there are some wrong words. (btw, here Sukuna is considered as king and you considered as the queen) And there are some OCs that I added to add more drama. Hope you like it!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 1
Series summary : You always get the same nightmare over and over every night. You feel annoyed but can't do anything about it. On the other hand, your best friend who suddenly becomes the vessel of a cursed king brings your nightmares to reality. You don't know what happened but the people around you started acting strangely.
Series warnings : Non-con, dub-con, yandere, stalking, kinks, gaslighting, blackmail, overtism, smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, all character 18+ (but first years still first year, try to make sense), sex, rough sex, oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, blood, manipulation, corruption, mind break, forced relationship, yandere character being their own warning, mind control, possessive, kidnapping. ⚠️Jujutsu kaisen character was not my original, credit to Gege Akutami as original author! There's a few OC as my originally made character. If you don't like/ you hate this kind of story, please go.
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(Y/N) (L/N) or now known as Ryomen Sukuna's wife. That night was a wedding between you and Sukuna. Your father, who is the only parent you have now, is the figure behind all of this. It all started with him make you engaged to hundred year old demon when you were 12 years old. And now you are 18 years old, which means it's time to get married.
Many important people come, make you have to smile throughout the event. And when it all ends, that night you ended up at your bedroom alone. You reflect on all the things happened.
They think you're happy, they all think you love him. All this time you have to act like you can't live without Sukuna. You have to act like you love him. No, of course you don't love him. You admit he's quite hot, but he's not your type. You don't like mean, psychopathic men. You like gentle and loving men.
Your father always forced you to be obsessive with Sukuna and act like you love him. So you always hurting women who tease him because your father told you to. But you can't do much if Sukuna wants those women. So you are the antagonist.
You're 100% sure he's with one of his mistresses now. As the first wife of Ryomen Sukuna, everyone is sorry for you because he likes to sleep with other women. But you don't mind it, you don't care. But THEY CARE, those who think you love him.
"What should I say to your majesty?"
You hear the waiters talking behind the wall, you start to focus on listening.
"Did lord Sukuna slept with his lover?" Ask someone you recognize as your personal guard now. "Yes. I have to immediately bring this dinner to queen (Y/N)."
Not long after the conversation ended, your bedroom door was opened. "excuse me queen, this is your dinner." He said while put down the tray of your dinner. "Thank you, did he slept with his mistress?" you ask.
The butler raised his head, looking at you with pitying eyes. "I-That's right, Your Highness." he answered nervously. You sighed and told him to leave. Before leaving the room, he look at you with pity once again.
Several months passed, nothing special. He always looks at you disgusted, because he also thinks you're obsessed with him. When you meet Sukuna, he always with his concubines and those concubines always grin at you.
You have to be patient, this is for your family.
That day, he suddenly call you and everyone to the great hall. He was with a woman as usual, but something was different.
"I want to make this women, as my first wife." He said. Everyone was shocked. Because if he wants to make that woman his first wife, it means that she will replace your position. You saw the woman smiling innocently, but you can see her grin.
Because Sukuna wanted to make that woman his first wife, all support for you disappeared and turned to that woman. After your father investigated the woman named Yurika Sato, a illegitimate daughter of a lowly noble who went bankrupt.
The thing that made he attracted to her was because of her innocence. Sukuna really likes innocent women and really hates rude women like you. And just as you'd think, Sukuna will eventually replace you and take Yurika as his first wife.
But you realize this is your chance to escape. You tell your father that you will run away and he agrees. Just in time for the wedding between Sukuna and Yurika, you packed up your things and leave a farewell note. Finally, after everything Sukuna did to you from betrayal, his harsh words, and other acts of cruelty that you received from him, you are finally free.
You and your father still communicating by letter and he bought you a house that is not big but still very nice. Now you live in a village and sell cakes you make by yourself.
Until one day something special happens in your life. At that time you were walking around in the market suddenly you hit bye someone and fell. When you look at that person it was a tall handsome man.
"Sorry, I'm really sorry." He says. Reaching out his hand to help you up. And that's when you were get to know to him. It was strange that an aristocratic family name was used by a commoner like him. You were suspicious, but you were a person who believed easily when he said that he completely unrelated to nobles, he happened to share the same last name.
He work as a doctor in this village.
Months have passed and now you know him better, you start developed romantic feelings for each other.
One day he proposed to you and you happily accepted. It's been a month since you were married and you read a letter from your father explaining that the capital in chaos. There are so many evil curses attacking everything around.
You want to go there, but hampered by your body feeling unwell. You keep feeling nauseous and vomiting, your menstruation hasn't come since a month ago. You finally checked secretly with other doctors in the village. Unfortunately, it took a few days to find out.
Three days have passed and there is still no news about the results. Due to getting another letter from your father and worrying about him, you finally decide to go to the capital that day without your husband knowing.
But you don't realize that will be where it ends. You didn't find your father at your family's residence, and you immediately went to Sukuna's residence. You find your father fighting a curse and behind him is Sukuna. When your father neglects to help the others, sukuna who somehow looks very weak is attacked by a special grade curse.
Time went fast, you ran trying to protect Sukuna's body and in the end the curse attack hit your stomach. You lay down weakly and heard screams of your father, Sukuna, and your husband who somehow were there. You see them approaching you and screaming for someone to heal you. And what surprised you the most was when your husband shouted, "SHE'S PREGNANT!"
It's too late. You was already unconscious and fell asleep forever.
_____
"HAH- HAH- HAH."
You wake up from your sleep, the dream is again in your mind. You quickly looked at the time and realized that you would be late for school. You hurry up and get ready for school. Go downstairs and find your father and sibling eating in the dining room.
You grabbed a loaf and rushed out of the house ignoring your father's screams telling you to come back.
And this is your life now, (Y/N) (L/N) the only one daughter of a rich family which has one of the most successful companies in the world.
On the way to school, you keep imagining the dreams you've had every day since you were 12 years old until now. No matter how much you deny it, You know that it's not just a dream but an incident that happened in the past. Maybe it was your past life.
To be continued
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A/N : Hello! This is the end of the prologue, once again English is not my first language, btw your family won't be featured much in the next chapters, so it's okay if you don't have any siblings to imagine in the story. Sorry if there are any wrong words. I feel it's too long for prolog, so I'm sorry but hope you like this story and waiting for the first chapter! Banners credit to @cafekitsune !
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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months
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Hi! If you're still taking requests I'd love request a drabble about the moment when Konig and Reader first noticed each other and what they thought/felt during that moment based on your "Just Friends" fic.
Btw I love your work and oh my god, it's perfection, absolutely amazing. Super excited to read chapter 3&4 (no rush take your time!!)
Thabj you!!!
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Even Demons are Lonely
Wordcount: 3.8 k
Summary: König sees reader for the first time. Soon, the promise to never touch someone as lovely as her turns into a vow to never leave her side.
Tags/warnings: F!Reader, König POV, Just Friends universe. Angst, twisted & fluffy feelings, pining, obsessive behavior, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of past trauma, abuse and patricide, yandere!König falling in love (=being delusional). Mild sexual and violent themes. 
A/N: I did take my time with this one... 🩷 And it's only König POV, but I hope you enjoy! 💋
"Abashed the Devil stood, and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely – saw, and pined His loss..."
– John Milton, Paradise Lost
Purgatory.
That's the word that stuck to him when he was learning English at school, simply because it was an accurate definition of how he felt.
Adults used to say there is heaven and hell, and then this world, the world of humans, somewhere in between. They said he would go to heaven after he died and that bad people would go to hell.
They were all liars because hell already existed here on Earth. He had lived there ever since he was born.
The first memories of the cutting are shallow and pale, like they happened to some other boy. With every hit and cut and every cry, the sounds turned muddy until he was mute too, until all he could hear was mother's crying and Papa's roaring. The old man always got more mad when people cried and cowered. 
That's when he knew he would someday do something about bad people, that crying and cowering and begging wasn't going to help. It was the birth hour of hope and heaven. He dreamed of killing his father, killing his "friends", killing everyone who looked at him like he was a freak. 
He soon learned that this was not what people associated with heaven at all. He learned that there was a word for people like him, for phantoms who were morbidly interested in death and decay.
Ghoul.
A grave robber and a corpse feaster he was not, but neither was he going to pretend that some people didn't deserve to be gutted. If being normal meant he should just play along and pretend that there was justice in this world, then he was happy to be morbid. A little ghoul boy who grew up in hell, who dreamed of heaven, who slipped behind the thin veil between the worlds when he was four, who learned how to make the knives dance while everyone around him suffered.
He learned to cry and beg before he learned to speak, but when the words finally started to make sense to him, he had no use for them. No one wanted to talk to him, so he settled to observe. Life was a film reel running by, and words were useless when all he wanted to do was roar. There was a growing, gaping maw inside him, shrieking and spitting blood while he was without a voice.
It took a while to make Papa cry and beg. But he begged, eventually. In his last words, he tried to hide behind a woman’s skirt. 
"Don't do this to your mother," was a plea that didn't ignite mercy: it drove him off the ledge. Looking at the horrible excuse for a man squirming at his feet made him realize he should've released his mother from this demon years ago. He was too weak, and he vowed to himself, to the whole world, that he would never be weak again.
………………
Sometimes, a glimpse of true heaven can be seen on a clear summer's day when the sun shines, when bees are buzzing and a beautiful voice sings a love song on the radio. Beautiful, peaceful things only add to his suffering. They are simply evidence gathered – examples of everything he will never have. 
The air clots inside his mask with a brew of old sweat and acrid gunpowder. It's usually enriched by a hot desert wind or the stench of dust and emissions, a city's rotten core. It would feel odd to be met with a fresh breeze or the smell of rust and smoke than have them dampened by the baggy mask. He's certain that it would only be painful to feel the full brunt of the world on his naked face again. His enemies can't see him when he kills them, so they can't haunt him either.
He is the only ghoul here. He is the one who haunts.
He's learned to let love and peace go. He came here to reap; that's his job. Ghouls cannot love or be loved. They are supposed to get rid of the plague, do what normal people can't do, what good people deem hideous and wrong.
People have always been alien to him: they both know something he cannot seem to decode and are unaware of the constant presence of the Maw. He has to feed it in order to not be swallowed by it himself. It helps with the constant yelling for a while. 
His father was the first demon to be punished, but he has learned that all demons are liars when they beg. They don't know what real hell is like. That's why he didn't give mercy to his father, and that's why he doesn't give mercy to them, either. It's not hell, it's not heaven, so he must be in a limbo state in between. 
That's why he calls this place purgatory. 
………………
He sees a woman under the sun one day.
The sheer sight of her sitting there on her little blanket spread over the grass, dressed in a pure white dress is like a torturing dream from above. It stops him in his tracks like there is suddenly an invisible wall in front of him, forcing him to halt.
His heart is pounding, but that's not new. His heart is always tight and racing, and that's why it's better to have a heavy gun in his hands than hold onto nothing at all; it's better to do something than do nothing at all. The only thing that calms the endless roil inside him is work; when there's no work, it helps to go outdoors, somewhere between the shadows between thick trees.
Trees are better than people...
But they're not better than a woman like her.
He knows his mind plays tricks sometimes with females. That is why at first he thinks that the creature before him is not from this world either. How could someone like her even end up here? There are few ladies in the base, and none of them have picnics; none of them look like angels.
She looks up at the sky, at the single cloud drifting across the cerulean blue that hurts his eyes. Sun shines on her exposed throat, her stare is dreamy as she basks in the warmth and raises an apple to her lips. 
He stops breathing as she takes a bite, fearing it might stain the beautiful white dress from how juicy it is. The runaway apple juice drips down her chin, but she catches it with her finger, then sweeps the sweet taste of it back into her mouth. 
Her lips hug the finger gently as she savors the treat, and his breath returns to him, heavy and with a pang, like someone just punched him between the lungs.
She can't be human... 
He wonders if she's even real. 
He's hungry, but the need to devour this woman turns into a need to worship her before he can even decipher what is happening to him. He would grovel at her feet if that's what it took to get her to feed him some of that fruit. His mind goes numb from the need to march there and hug her. Just hold her, so close that he forgets what it is to breathe.
He knows she would only scream, and it's good he's been walking in the shade. It's good that she can't see him unless she turns her head. Because she must be an angel, and angels have no business with ghouls. 
He should go and leave her be... Mortals he can want, humans he can torture, but a celestial being he could never touch. The wind carries a whiff of apple juice to his nose; it overrides the stench of sweat and gun oil and smoke. 
And then the angel turns her head. 
It's Judgment Day, but she doesn't condemn him. She blinks a few times, lashes fluttering like he's another sun, the dreaded black sun, and she can't bear to look directly at him. But there's no disgust, no uneasiness, there's no fear. There's only shyness and the smallest smile. 
The pain inside his gut turns into a brutal stab, pure suffering. He hasn't hoped for anything for a long, long time. Now hope bleeds into his stomach with golden tingles, like those rays of sun that caress her skin.
He thought good things would feel… well, good, but to his horror, they feel painful too. She's painfully sweet. Even the demon inside him falls silent, the only demon he cannot destroy. It's finally quiet, as it should be. Everything in him bows to this greater power of Her. 
But she can't be real... His mind is sick and has finally conjured up the most beautiful thing he can never, ever have. He's been called a freak, he's been called a dumb ugly giant, he's been called so many things, but he's not stupid enough to think that the creature hugged by the golden aura of light is meant for him. 
So he squares his shoulders and pushes through the invisible wall, back behind the veil, back to where he belongs, and leaves the heavenly apparition in the sun.
………………
The next time he sees her is after a mission and inside the base. 
He brings mud and blood inside after a few rainy days spent in the mountains. He's so soaked that not even the 3-hour flight managed to dry all the dirt. She's waiting for him, or that's how it feels like when she gives him a small, relieved smile and starts to clean the mess he and every other operator leave behind.
His angel is not only a celestial visage but a cleaner.
She keeps the building that houses people who destroy life, clean. She scrubs the filth killers like him bring inside the cold, dead compound built on what used to be a forest full of birds, life, and wind through the trees. 
No one thanks this girl as she humbly dusts a table or mops the floor. No one understands that she's a saint for coming to the purgatory and making it a more decent place for the demons and ghouls to live. And she's relieved every time he comes back unharmed. She's happy to see he's alive. There's someone waiting for him. And not just someone, not just anyone, but an angel.
It's unbelievable how no one has claimed her yet. She has no one to keep her safe, and it makes his hands twitch. If he was her protector, she would never have to work again.
She's not like the rest of them: she doesn't turn her gaze away when he flicks a knife out. She likes to watch him make them dance. It's a ritual that makes him invincible on the battlefield. He used to do it every morning before school to stay safe – there were no angels back then to keep him alive.
He almost stops the first time he sees her watching how he goes through the rite. 
No, look away, little angel... You're not supposed to see this; this is a death dance, it's filthy, demonic magic.
But she's not afraid of his blades or the way he weaves his spell of protection. The girl follows his moves entranced. Her eyes shine, and he nearly drops the blade – he hasn't dropped a knife since he was ten – because there's hunger in her stare. Not as fathomless as his, but deep enough for him to recognize it. 
His angel is lonely and trapped too. 
He completes the dance, returns the knife to his pocket, and looks back, straight back.
She doesn't look away. She doesn't wince or lean back, no: she leans forward, and he can see it, the way her pulse flutters on her neck, the way her mouth opens even more, how a tiny pink tongue sweeps across her lips as she looks back into the jaws of damnation. It takes him a while to realize his angel must be wet, just from seeing how good he is with a knife. The notion doesn't only make his cock jolt; it throws him headfirst into the abyss. 
You'll never get rid of me now, the demon growls before he can choke him silent.
Her wet eyes, her wet, promising lips belong in a realm of madness. She's not filthy; his angel could never be filthy. But she's seducing him, which means she might seduce other men too. 
Has someone claimed her already…? 
What if she has a lover? Do they make her legs shake, do they make her mew?
Who does he have to kill?
………………
He breaks into her room that night. 
He only meant to stand watch and see if someone creeps to her in the cover of darkness. He thinks about different ways to kill her lover as he waits near her door. Should he just strangle them when they enter her room? Make her an offering, let her know she could have a far more powerful male if she wants?
No, he must use a knife... She will get wet if he uses a knife.
But no one appears: he is the only shadow in the dark hall, and after midnight, he decides to take a look at his innocent, sleeping angel. Just one look.
Her domain is full of softness, and he has to take a few deep breaths before he continues. Her world is so different from his that he nearly turns back and closes the door to paradise. But then her breathing calls to him, causing him to take a few steps. She sleeps with her window open, likes to listen to the sound of night birds before she falls asleep – just like he does…
The demon is awake in an instant and grabs him by the throat. 
No. 
Don’t look. If you look, she will steal your soul.
He freezes before he reaches her bed. His gaze sweeps her room instead, and the demon pants at the sight. Her dresses are laid out on a clothing rack: they salute him like a row of colorful flowers. Flowing and singing like a river, they hit him with a breeze made of life and all things good. 
She has a little armchair filled with cushions, and there's more softness and beauty everywhere he looks; he can see it even in the darkness of the night. Her delicate perfume that follows him as he follows her around the base lingers in the air and mixes with the distant birdsong and moonlight that shift the curtains in her room.
There's art on her walls, lively houseplants on the window sill, she has collected a cavalcade of cute little things on top of her drawer: nail polish and sea shells and beeswax candles and a piece of driftwood, a bottle of that perfume she uses, decorative lights above it all, placed around a small mirror. 
He wants all of that. 
He wants light and living things and greenery – he never had plants at home – he wants softness and cute little items, he wants to listen if the seashell still roars with the crashing waves were he to bring it to his ear. His mama always told him seashells remember the ocean because it used to be their home…
He wants her to light a honeyed candle and give him a bite of that apple, catch the juice as it runs down his scarred chin, or better yet, kiss it away before it falls. He wants to taste what's between her thighs. She must taste like honey and heaven.
One of the drawers is open, and from it, a torrent of cute little underthings is spilling out; they almost cascade on the floor. In different colors, too, and his hand reaches out and takes one before he can even think. He steals it like it's candy, then turns around with a stiff back and shoulders heavy from the sin he just committed.
He's about to go to the door, but her soft breathing calls him back. He tries to calm the demon - the girl can't steal anything: there's nothing left to steal. He has no soul, so he doesn't have to fear her either. 
Taking a few steps, he takes the peek he shouldn't take because it will only prolong his sentence in purgatory. Little does the demon know that he would suffer eternally for one little glimpse… 
She's not cocooned inside her blanket as he thought she would be. He thought he would find her coiled into a fetal position, curled into safety, but instead, she's sleeping on her back, arms spread next to her face, looking like she just fell from heaven and is feeling a little dizzy from the fall. She's calm and innocent as the moonlight brushes her cheek, her face free from all worry.
Why is she so cute, why is she so sweet? 
She has no right. She should be up in heaven.
He almost crawls on top of her right then and there, because blinding want is nothing compared to this. He wants to breathe her, breathe with her, hold her gently, and have her smile at him when she wakes up. He doesn't want to ruin her… He just wants a taste, see if an angel would like to have a demon worship her. If his worship would mean anything, if it had any power to persuade her to like him... 
He would never kneel before anyone, but he would kneel before her. In spirit, he is on his knees, and the only thing that makes him suffer is the fear that she might not want him, a ruined temple haunted by old, hateful spirits.
The madness was right. Apparently, there was a soul to steal, a tiny broken mosaic piece left, for the angel has it now. She owns what's left of him, the haunted temple is hers if she would ever want to come visit. He would restrain all those monsters so that she can walk freely and explore all the things buried under the rubble.
Her underwear burns his palm like a flower on fire. He only then realizes that there are no actual flowers in her room. He wonders if she would give him a kiss if he were to bring her one. Or two. Or an entire bouquet…
The demon inside cuts him with a searing blade – stupid idiot – she doesn't want to kiss your mauled face or love your ghouls. There's no treasure hidden inside that filthy rubble, there's only shit and blood and festering vomit. Better to just take her right now, see how tight she is, how wide her eyes go when a proper man comes to assert his will and authority. The demon tells him to at least ruin that cute thing in his hand and throw it on the table. Imagine her shocked little face when she wakes up…
Tears brim, and the maw of hell laughs with a roar of raging fire. He forces both down with a swallow and a wrench that shuts his heart.
There's no way she would ever let a man like him inside her. He's a sickness; no, he's an entire plague. He could try to make love to her, and she would only cry and bleed to death.
The smooth place between her brows gains a wrinkle as if she can hear his thoughts but doesn't agree with them. A little whimper escapes her nose, her head nods on the pillow; it looks like an attempt to hide while you're tied and cannot move. 
Pretty angel is having a nightmare, and it's no wonder. Of course she can sense she's being visited by a monster. 
He turns to leave, and notices another colorful thing on the floor: her underwear, and not clean. She's slipped out of it before bed: his angel is naked under that blanket. His angel sleeps naked…
He wonders if she has touched herself before sleep. Not with feverish, stern hands, like he does, but softly, under that blanket, with her features melting into pleasure as she comes with sighs and a series of desperate little whimpers. 
His blood turns to hellfire as he drops the underwear he's holding. It falls right next to the intoxicating thing he picks up instead. Taking a deep inhale, he can finally smell her. Not just her perfume, but her. She smells of an angel and a woman, raw, perfect woman, and he knows he's lost. This is worse than any dream or demon; this is worse than anything ever before. There's no going back now. 
Her scent calls to him, those hands frame her face in a gesture of surrender. She smiled at him on that day under the sun, and she smiled at him today.
What if he's spent enough time in hell? What if it's possible to have a taste of heaven?
He can't help but wonder if his angel wants this too... 
“Engel,” he whispers into the night.
It takes only a second before she whimpers again. It's an answer, it's a yes, and his heart is full of tiny needles; they pinch him with terrible love and hope. The wrinkle has smoothed out, and his angel is smiling very, very softly. 
She's calling for him. How could he refuse?
His angel is full of light as he makes his decision. He whispers his apology, only in his mind and only in German, trusting that angels must know every language in the world. He asks for her forgiveness for all the things he's about to do to her. Then he promises he will come for her, that she doesn't need to worry: she has a guardian now and always will. She will be forever safe with him by her side. He will drive even her nightmares away.
Then he returns to his room so different from hers, returns to the realm of death and worships the thing he just stole, spraying it with hot, white love - the only thing inside him that can be called pure, the color of angels. It's only a matter of time before he gets to worship her in the flesh, unite with her, the soul who forgave his sins and slipped him the key to heaven.
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artastic-friend · 5 months
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Some things I love about DJ’s sound design and animations in Help Wanted 2:
Every time he makes a bigger movement that requires shifting of its weight you can HEAR IT- It creaks and you can hear hydraulics inside of him WHICH BTW IS SO COOL IN SO MANY WAYS BC (tangent): it makes sense as to why he needs hydraulics being so huge and heavy, but also because the way real spiders extend their legs is like a natural form of hydraulics!! They pump their hemolymph(basically bug blood) into their legs which then allow those legs to be filled with more pressure that causes them to extend! This is why a dead or near-death spider’s legs go into the curled position (the death curl) :(
The sTOMPS I always loved the stomps even in base sb but there is just something so cool about hearing them around you as he is so close!!! It all just adds to the feeling of his weight and size 😫
HIS GROWLING?? AND MORE ANIMAL-LIKE SOUNDS??? In the past we would hear a little bit of it when he was sleeping in SB, but now we hear more examples of it and just like- closer and more noticeably 😳 it’s almost like you can hear it breathing at times and it is so cool and uncanny in the best ways :D
Ok the SNAP?!? The way he snaps his fingers and the sound reverberates all around you?!? And the way the light ring of the outside of his tunnel turns on at the same time??? I don’t really think that DJ is actually producing the snap sound from the snap alone, as with the synthetic materials its gloves are made of probably can’t produce that crisp of a sound, BUT THAT JUST MEANS THAT HE MAKES THE SOUND HIMSELF WITH ITS SPEAKERS OR SOMETHING AND SO HE’S DOING IT 100% FOR STYLE POINTS AND I LOVE THAT FOR HIM
The sound of its teeth clanking together to the beat of the music, that’s just a neat feature I like very much
Ok movements now, THE WAY HE SWAYS HIS HIPS(?) TO THE MUSIC!?! especially when it is doing that little happy dance of his or pointing at the player when it’s their turn to play. I LOVE THAT LITTLE DANCE IT’S SO CUTE
Ok the way he leans in reaaal close before settling back? He’s probably just doing it as it shifts its balance to lean back, but like, I wanna believe he’s also sorta doing it on purpose a little 🤭
Speaking of which, the movements for him going from leaning towards you to shifting his weight back and getting into that badass cross-armed pose?!!? Love it 😭 I love it sm- once again, the recoil and the followthrough of his movements just emphasize its size and weight so well I am just obsessed
OH AND HIS LITTLE FINGER TAPS WITH HIS MIDDLE RIGHT ARM THAT’S ON THE FLOOR?!? It’s a smaller detail but I am so glad they included it because it’s just so neat!?! I don’t know how to explain why I like it but it is so neat and adds to his vibe so well
OK I JUST NOTICED THIS BUT WHEN IT IS DOING THAT LITTLE DANCE AND POINTING AT YOU WHEN YOU GOT EVERYTHING RIGHT: he like, Bops his head a little and with each head bop his headphones bounce a little as well!! Idk why that is just such a neat little detail to me!
Ok this one I probably should have mentioned sooner since it’s one of the first things it does but the way it climbs out of the tunnel and grabs the sides like that with his middle set of arms? 😫😫✨ Idk what to tell y’all but that is the most attractive shit I’ve seen!!! Y’all need to step up your game if you wanna be like him XD /j
His head tilts. Need I say more? They’re adorable.
THE JUMPSCARE??!?? Dude I know it’s probably meant to look like he’s coming in to bite/eat you or something??? But to me and my DJ-Simp corrupted brain it just looks like we’re boutta make out 😁😁😁
OK THAT’S ALL I GOT FOR RIGHT NOW, but I might possibly add to this later???? If I notice anything else that stands out to me.
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swimmingelectron · 17 days
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And firebenders can tweak the electric signals in someone's body-
But this made me think. Waterbenders can control water molecules and can bend anything the water will bring along. That is why they can bend blood. But waterbenders are also capable of NOT picking up objects that the water is carrying. So they can also dehydrate people, flood their lungs, flood their bladder, flood their digestive track, in turn giving someone diarrhoea, they can give someone a cough and a cold by increasing the volume of their mucus.
This means waterbenders would make great medics, btw. Any water is potable water. Everything is a water container. The most powerful water bender should be able to turn water into ice or steam, access groundwater in the deserts, and be able to make canals and streams.
The earth bender can bend a select range of minerals, but if they work really hard on it, they can bend any of them. Like toph did.
Strong earthbenders should be able to manipulate the very structure of molecules of the minerals so that they can sit on top of one another in a way that makes them pliable, malleable, strong, springy, etc to form the right shape and the right type of earth.
Like the water benders, they have the ability to add pressure and also control the movement of the rocks. Boomi and Toph already demonstrated what crazy fighters earthbenders can make. But i also think about how easily they can poison someone, oversalt them (dehydration 2.0), and calcify organs while the person is alive. They can cause bone cancer, they can break teeth, crush bones to powder, and puncture the internal organs. Manipulate bones did not even cover it.
They could manipulate armour to move to fight wars for the country. They could set flintstone fires without being there. They could weave metal into fabric. So many possibilities. I'm not even mentioning the industrial use, i believe LoK covered that?
Air benders and fire benders are different. Fire bending is easier to cover on an atomic level.
So they can bend heat, basically, right? But also, for some reason, they can channel electricity. The conclusion i am coming to is that they have command over the kinetic energy of individual electrons. That is why it is hard to master.
But this opens possibiliti3s. So i joked that they could modify the electric signals in the brain, but they literally could. But they can do so much more. Because this isn't atomic, it is subatomic. Yes, they can heat (and cool) things. Yes, they can use electricity. But if they can move electrons? So much more. They can change the properties of things. I can't even begin to list them. They can cut things, they can mend things seamlessly, and they can perform alchemy, changing the very structure of the atom. But that means it is an extremely volatile ability. Even the strongest bender would have to work these things one at a time or risk radiation.
Lastly, we have airbenders. There's two things that could be manipulating just air. One, they can move only free atoms. Which actually fits in with the heirarchy of molecular bonds of earth bender, molecules of water benders, airbenders with free atoms, and firebenders with subatomic electrons.
The other one would be the ability to create vacuums in space, and the air follows the small vacuums. Seeing how rigorously airbenders train, that seems the likely option despite the harmony from the other one. And then, the air bicycle is not possible. Which means. The airbenders just were into aesthetics and acting like a cult. Oh well, that's ok.
Aang has proven that airbenders can lift things with air. Heavy, dense things. They can probably aerosolise any atoms. Basically, they could pick atoms to put next to each other and let them form molecules. Airbending air out of lungs is probably the easiest thing. They can literally travel to space and make their own space suit. Out of air. Their scuba diving gas tank can be made out of literal air.
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fillinforlater · 10 months
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WICKED LOVER
Female Reader x Choi Yena
Length: 2791 words
Tags: intense dancing, very hot choreography, wicked love, lesbian sex, rough sex, finger fucking, clit stimulation, face sitting, abs worship, marking, scratches, a bit of shaming, mentions of toxic relationships, freaky kinks, wicked_lover!Yena / dancer!You
TW: mentions of blood by scratches + toxic relationships; I guess shaming
Inspiration: "WICKED LOVE" by Yena, especially the Dance Practice (I have watched it like 30 times for this fic, fuuuuuuck)
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(A/N: female reader bfh that came out of nowhere. Yena had no business being this freaky for her pre-release. (BTW: the title of her actual title track is also quite inspiring...))
“You are going to do the part during the bridge with me.”
Rumor has it that Yena had a break-up before writing this song. Although it has not leaked out into the general public, the message of the song should even get the most delusional or densest fans thinking. However, inside the company building, everyone knows that there's more to the story. 
Yena’s relationship was wild, toxic and violent. She and her lover grew from being extremely close and intimate, something the company struggled to hide, to avoiding each other because of the drama that would unfold if they locked eyes. Somehow, they still found ways to make up, but after a few months nothing could salvage this relationship anymore.
As a dancer who regularly works for the same label as Yena, you remember passing Yena’s studio and hearing the vile insults they would throw at each other, audible even through the thick walls. An hour later you’d pass the same door and hear her  moans and screams of pleasure. You never dared to peek inside; it would have fueled your envy.
“S-sure,” you answer the imposing idol standing in the midst of the dance practice room, surrounded by dancers just like you who had hoped to be assigned the same part. “I’ll give it my all.”
“Stay after the main practice,” Yena adds in the same stern, professional tone. “I might want to change it up a bit.”
You lock eyes with her through the mirror and nod. The perfect length for eye contact is supposed to be 3.3 seconds, but why is it that Yena makes you weak in less than half of that? If you’d really focused on her for 3.3 seconds, you’d lose your footing and would have to admit that there was more than adoration for her success and (not anymore) adorable visuals. 
Through all the curses you’ve heard her scream when there are no cameras, through the rumors of her leaving scratches all over her former lover's face, through the thought of her maybe being the more toxic partner, you’ve continuously grown more obsessed with Yena. You are not better than all those delusional fans out there.
Well, you might not be better, but you are a lot closer now. The rest of the dancers have left the room. The track is still in loop, so you and Yena continue to dance as if it was a normal practice up until the bridge. Luckily, dancing always pulls you into a powerful trance in which you can escape the hold Yena has on your fragile heart. Even when the two of you are close to each other, even when her hands are on your body, hell, even when she tears off your top, the music keeps you going. 
However, it’s a lot different now. 
During the first part of the choreo, Yena positions herself and you do a couple of quick movements around her. Then the two of you start facing each other, showing off something like an intimate fight before smoothly switching to the finale where Yena circles your body with her arms three times—untils she rips the black top apart. 
The moment you start to face Yena, you can see or rather feel how the choreo has changed. Yena is a lot closer, she is literally pressing her chest into yours and moves her knee up to reach your core in between your legs. Doing the hand motions becomes difficult, especially Yena continues to have this dull, bored expression on her face, like it’s just practice. 
Yena’s cheek really touches the palm of your hand and you almost forget to continue, your spin out of her imminent reach is amateur-like. You almost stumble when Yena gets on one knee, grabs your lower leg, quickly brushes up your body to grab your waist and then, with perfect timing, destroys your top with a single pull. 
The tatters fall from your chest, shoulders, arms. Your breath is heavy and your face is red—not due to dancing anymore. Without a care in the world, Yena hurries towards her phone and stops the music. 
“What do you think?” Yena asks, her hands on her hips, her breaths deep, her eyes a bit softer. “Are these changes good?”
You’re frozen in the final pose. The white crop-top with its spaghetti strings suddenly feels too revealing, so you hide yourself with both your arms, unable to truly understand what just occurred.
“Uhm, I-I think it’s good. It adds to the, uhm, intensity of the br-bridge?” you ask, hair and words in a mess, then your heartbeat as well when Yena approaches you again, the track already booming once more.
“I think so as well,” she whispers. “Let’s try it again.”
The two of you get in position. When your muscle memory kicks in, you remember that she just shredded the top and now you’re more exposed and vulnerable to her than ever before. But it’s too late to change it now, the bridge has already started. 
This time, Yena is even bolder. Her face seems to go in for a kiss during the second part before she pushes you away and then pulls you back in with her aura, her scent for the finale, which is now way too intimate. From your leg, her hand intentionally rubs over your folds, then grabs the hem of your baggy pants to slightly tug them down and the moment you shoot your hand up to leave your backside wide open, Yena—
“Ah, fuck!”
You scream out in pain. Yena’s painted nails pierce into your skin and mercilessly dig through it up to your neck. You throw your head back as you feel tiny veins burst and droplets of blood leak out of the fresh wounds. Sink into Yena whose arms have not yet left your nape.
“What about this?” she asks with a lewd smirk. “I think it brings out all the intimate anger from the lyrics.”
You nod, eyes narrowed in pain. Yena looks at the mirror and eyes your back. She immediately removes her hands and gasps. 
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want it to be, like—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you hiss and look into her eyes, level with yours, an inch away from yours, she looks so into it, so needy—
That is more than 3.3 seconds. Your legs melt like butter, your chin falls to Yena’s chest. She not only looks bigger than you, her soft pillows are more voluptuous and the tight crop-top is perfect for showing it off. 
“We should…” Yena hums, her voice deeper than ever, her hands deep in your hair at this point.
“W-we should fu—” you try to finish the sentence, but she is too fast.
“We should go for a final attempt. There is something I still want to change.”
The looped track is at the second chorus. You need to push all love and lewd thoughts and tension and pent up stress and the feeling of Yena’s boobs out of your mind. The tug she gave your pants shows a string of your thong, your hair is disheveled, your eyes spin, your muscles try to follow the rhythm but there is no need to follow it. The bridge has already started.
Yena is off beat, grazing your jaw with her lips before spinning you around with her own two hands. Those same hands grab your leg, feel everything up to your inner thigh and even pull at the string of your thong. You’re about to explode, but Yena isn’t done yet. Her sweaty palms rub over your sweatier sides, grab both your top and bra and pull them over your skyward arms. 
Your heart skips a trillion and one beats when you see through your messy hair that Yena has her eyes closed and lips sucking your lower lip, fingers on your breasts, cupping, poking. You fall backwards, the mirror catching you after a couple of steps. Its cold surface meets your scars, you groan at the ease in pain, the increasing pain, whatever it is, you don’t care.
“Yena, I—”
“No words, nothing.”
Yena pulls down your pants, fiddles with the string of your thong before putting her hand into the front. She sighs a little and you open your eyes to find yourself in the mirror, flushed in red with excitement, confusion and arousal. 
“From now on you will shave,” she commands, lips inching towards your ear. She adds, her voice in a husky whisper: “And you will only wear the thongs I give you. I think my pretty girl understands.”
“Y-yes, Yena,” you moan as she rubs your labia.
“Good. 
“Now, let’s get into the storage room.”
Yena starts to circle your entrance while guiding you towards the storage room's door. You were always confused why it was lockable from the inside. Now it makes sense. What also makes sense is the big box with pillows, dresses and stage outfits Yena empties onto the floor before pushing you into it. It’s soft, a worthy replacement for a bed.
“Get those off,” Yena groans but her hands are a lot quicker at undressing your pants than yours. “Spread your legs.”
Open shaky knees slowly. Yena is a lot less hesitant, her fingers pushing away your thong and going straight into your pussy. When she curls them upwards, your feet shoot upwards as well. When she thrusts them in and out, you move the same way to engulf them. When she starts to moan—well, you’re already moaning louder than her.
“Fuck, that’s just two fingers,” Yena groans her complain out loudly, not louder than your moans, but she makes sure you learn that she is in control of your neediness. “What if I actually make you cum with just these two, huh?”
“Ye-Yena, I—”
“No words.”
Yena puts the palm of her hand on your mouth, sealing it shut. The only way to get air is to breathe through your nose, the only way to voice your pleasure is by frantically swinging your legs through the air. However, Yena seems to be amused by your struggle to breathe coherently or release your tension. Feverishly, she starts to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, while her thumb pokes your clit again and again. 
“Are you really going to cum just like that?” Yena huffs and rolls her eyes. “God, I haven’t even undressed and you’re already this weak. I bet the fucking filthiest of my fans would do better than you.”
There is this ounce of pride in you that wants to fight back and argue that you are definitely not on the same level as those creeps lewding her, but in all honesty, you also don’t. Yena is so right, you are wet for her, your soft walls milking her two fingers like you need to do it for your survival. Your hands are free to do everything, you could push her arm away or put yourself upright, but they flop around uselessly, like weak straws. 
“Now—”
Yena removes her hand from your whimpering mouth and puts it on the hem of her crop top.
“—I want you to cum, perfect little girl.”
With a single pull, she gets the tight piece of clothes over her surprisingly big, bra-covered breasts and you get to see something all her fans can only dream off. Too bad you are just too weak, her upwards-downwards curling fingers stretching your cunt and her left-right flicking thumb have you on the edge and with a final, painfully hard push, you start to cum all over her arm.
“Oh, so hot,” Yena groans as your juices run over her skin. “It’s so sticky—did I tell you that you smell fucking lewd? Just from your sweat while dancing, I knew you’d smell perfect down here as well.”
Yena blows on your sore pussy when she pulls out her soaked fingers. The final spurts of your arousal leak onto the stage outfits below, but Yena does not give a fuck. Rather, she continues faster than your orgasm-shaken brain can react. Her face hovers above yours, it looks like she is about to take you missionary—if only she could.
“The next time, when you are shaven,” Yena whispers, cum-covered hand creeping over your chest to your chin. “I’ll fuck just like this. I’ll make you cry with nothing but my pussy. I bet you’re yearning for it already.”
You nod mindlessly before sucking yourself from her fingers. Yena is right, everything about you is lewd, so you might as well make a lewd expression while cleaning each of her fingers individually, then lapping off the rest from her palm. Her expression changes from a fascinated smirk to something a lot more sinister. Suddenly, she pulls your hair while trying to get out of her own pants.
“I know you want it, but I’m not going to give it to you. I’m just going to use your slutty little face to fuck myself and you’re going to be a good, perfect little girl. You will do the fucking things I say.”
“Y-yes, Yena.”
Wordlessly, Yena stands up and finally rids herself of all her garments. When her panties fall, you immediately want her crotch to be closer, but it comes a bit too close. Though the light is dim in the storage room, Yena makes sure that you can see her shaven pussy, her folds, her ass upclose when she starts to sit on your face. 
“Stick your fucking tongue out!”
Yena starts to moan loud and deep and louder and deeper when she rubs her labia on your nose and her clit on your tongue. She is incredibly wet, dripping on your face and making you more than a sweaty mess. All your eyes see is her subtle ass ripple as Yena goes faster, her clit chasing for more stimulation from your mouth.
A sudden sting on your sides fills you with pain. It feels like you are bleeding again, but this time Yena's nails feel intentionally torturous. Right above your hip bones she is leaving scratches, as if she is a tiger attacking and slashing you. You try to show your pain by grabbing her thighs, but she immediately swats you away.
“No! Only I mark you! Fuck, your abs make me so fucking jealous. Be a good little girl and move your stupid tongue.”
Yena suffocates you with her sweaty, pink cunt while her glossy lips begin to kiss all over your midriff. Enticed by her worship of your abs, you start to worship her lower lips with everything you have. Lick it, nibble on it, suck on it, blow on it, just to make her thighs shudder at the sides of your head. Then it’s Yena’s turn to slobber all over your abs, leave painful hickeys and even more painful scars when you strike at her most sensitive nub.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’ll fuck your face forever, don’t stop, fuck!”
She likes that word so much—just like she likes thrusting her hips down, smacking her juices all over your features until her unannounced yet definitely noticeable orgasm that leaves you with a blurry vision of her trembling crotch. Yena’s smell and cum fill your nostrils as you try to take deep breaths, a grave mistake which leads to you falling into a coughing fit. Not a good final impression, but the idol does not seem to mind. With unsteady feet she gets off of your face just to sink to her knees beside you as the orgasm still rattles her mind.
Half a minute later, your coughing fit finally subsiding, Yena’s hands do not subside—like claws they cling to your abs and hips, making you hiss when she goes over the fresh wounds. She looks at you, brushes the wild strands of pink hair behind her ear and does what you assume is an apologetic gesture: Eyes still locked with yours, her lips gently kiss where faint droplets of blood come from and you throw your head back at—again—pain and pleasure. 
“I can’t get enough of this,” Yena hums and you continue to groan.
“I-it hurts, Yena.”
“I like marking my girls.”
Suddenly, her hand creeps in between your legs and you lock it right there with your thighs. Shit, you’re sensitive, needy for another round of her fingers getting you off. Yena however only brushes the bush of your unshaven pubic hair. Once more, she sighs, but this time it’s a lot less demanding; maybe she sounds hopeful?
“If you want another round,” she whispers. “Shave yourself ‘till tomorrow.
“Understood, my perfect little girl~?”
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yan-lorkai · 1 month
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Hi!
Dunno if you know or watched about hazbin hotel but can I ask a Alastor!reader with whoever you want to write?
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I already binge watched hazbin twice lol, so yeah I know Alastor my beloved little guy. I'm writing this for my beautiful ladies and Undertaker btw!
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Always smiling, dressed in red and carrying a microphone. You are a peculiar figure in the eyes of many. Wherever you go you leave people with mixed feelings, some afraid, others fascinated, but everyone knows that you are someone not to be messed with. Or else there will be consequences. Your smile may be sweet at first sight but hide a part of sharp teeths.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Integra thinks she should be used to death and blood but she has quite a soft spot hidden deep within her. If you are killing vampires and ghouls she doesn't mind much but killing humans, or worse, Hellsing agents, makes her sad. So very sad. Her humans dying because they didn't know any better and had provoked your ire, do please spare them. Or she'll have to send Alucard to teach you a lesson and even she don't know who could win between you two.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Seras kind of match your energy. She was a police officer once, arresting and even killing when necessary. Even if she had seen her fair share of bodies, of guts spilled from inside out, of blood, she isn't disgusted by it anymore. She is more concerned that you cannibalize your victims sometimes. She knows some serial killers like to claim trophies but you just eat them. She can't really say anything because she drinks blood to live and many would find it just as disgusting.
That said, she loves your gentle persona. When you two are out and about, people seem like to admire you two. At the surface level you're both gentle and calm, and it's cute how you interact.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Thirteen find you so funny. She likes teasing you till your breaking point, where your voice is all distorted and your form begins to waver. She can't help, she like this side of you. And she loves even more to watch you kill, as a reaper is her job collecting souls so she isn't bothered by the blood or the smell of flesh that you eat. Kill for your heart's content, she's just going to stay here to show her support for you. And later she can take you to eat jambalaya.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Undertaker is another one that find you and your mannerisms funny. He was always round you when you were alive and killing people, watching you, wanting to see what you were going to do next. You were funny as hell too. And when you were killed he was the one who collected your soul, in his eyes your soul was so interesting, so precious, but was time to go.
When word got around about a demon killing other demons then he wanted to meet the infamous Radio demon and he is delighted to know you still up to cause chaos around. This time he is going to stay around and watch you closely, you make him laugh very much, after all. And likes you too. You want power, you trap people into deals, you scheme and it's so entertaining watching everything happening, Undertaker even likes to share his thoughts on your plan just to add a little more perspective.
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villainessxassassin · 2 years
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Hello and how are y'all doing? If the requests are still open for me, I was hoping to ask for a similar request as a previously written one about Grim pushing an easygoing and patient fem s/o to the point of grounding him in front of Lilia, Riddle, Epel and Jade? Figured that'd be fine. If not, then that's okay too. I can only imagine Riddle being surprised because s/o is normally the calmest and most down-to-earth out of the two. Not today, Grim. Idk thought it'd be cute. Please and thank you :)
Seperate! Riddle, Lilia, Epel and jade x reader
Part 1 here -> ft Malleus, Ruggie, Kalim, Vil, Leona
warnings: none unless you count grim abuse, cough.
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Riddle always saw you as the calm and collected one out of the group, so imagine his suprise when he saw grim almost cowering in a corner after he just witnessed your sweet smile disappear after what seemed to be the final straw for you.
You'd expect him to be disappointed that he saw you in such an indecent state, but what came was the opposite. If anything, he was nothing but impressed you were even able to hold out that long with such a troublemaker like grim as your companion.
Grim crossed the line resulting in you giving him the consequences of his actions so he had it coming, a very valid response in Riddle's eyes (his eyes are sparkling btw). He might also even take turns in giving grim some well needed discipline.
Will encourage you to show this side of you more but only when necessary because he doesn't want you too keep all that pent up frustration to yourself, no matter how easy going or calm you are.
And he'll surely collar grim the next time he makes your calm exterior break.
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He'll be making the 😶☺️ face if he catches you breaking off from the calm y/n you portray infront of others.
You sound angry, so it's only reasonable he waits until you finish, but if he's feeling in the mood he might discreetly add more fuel to the fire just to see what more reactions he's able to pull out of you.
Curious, a word he finds himself associating with you often. What else are you hiding? Which emotions are how you truly feel? Have you been suppressing them all this time for it to all just finally break?
All he had to do was use his unique magic and he can get the answers directly from you if he wanted, but that wouldn't be fun, so why not poke you a few more times and see how you'll react to his different schemes.
Overall, he doesn't really mind that you have this side to you. As entertaining as it is he also knows when not to cross the line. He'll indulge himself whenever the time comes, just as much as he enjoys the sweet, sweet calm y/n that he knows and loves.
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He's kinda scared but at the same time he really can't decide if he should interfere before things escalate more quickly or just stand there in awe while he applauds you a thousand times over in his head. (he actually did the latter first before going onto the former😭)
In fact he doesn't even know why he should be amazed at all when grim already looked like he was about to pass out.
He just thinks you look and sound so cool right now? The way you switched up from all gentle smiles to the fed up look you had on right now just has his blood pumping.
Has newfound respect for you. I mean he already respected you alot before but it's just more different, even more meaningful now you can say.
Epel is a very (in some cases it's not there but in most cases yes) gentle person too, so seeing you have this side to yourself eases his spirits since he atleast now knows he doesn't have to be all dainty and charming all the time.
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Just watches the scene unfold, doesn't do anything, doesn't plan on doing anything, he just wants to watch honestly.
He'll feign a Suprise look at your sudden outburst when grim finally dropped your last cup of patience. I really just see him standing there trying to contain the small smile that's creeping up his face.
Whether he's smiling at grim's despair or this new side of you it all really depends, but you can be positive that he's happy your getting it off your chest instead of extending whatever's left of your spilled patience.
Humans really are quite the spectacle and fascination, so he will observe a little while longer before deciding when grim has had enough. He'll give little words of comfort to grim but they are nothing compared to the intense gaze you had, but it was the least he could do.
And now he shall indulge himself in teasing you for the rest of the day, mentioning how cute you looked akin to a little kid loosing it's temper.
covering up for Guinevere until she finishes the request she's working on ehe- kishira
what I write is quite long guys that’s why its taking so long TT- Guinevere
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eternityservedcold · 1 year
Text
an extremely thorough list of content warnings for jojos bizarre adventure
because the old one was made by a deleted blog so it isnt easily accessible any more (and i dont think it was good enough to begin with)
btw if you say anything to the effect of "why do people like jojo when it has x" or "you guys really excuse y?" on this post im just gonna block you. people who get angry about me saying to skip parts/episodes will also get blocked.
feel free to reply/send an ask with anything i missed, preferably with a chapter or episode number. parts 7 and 8 wont be on here in full until i finish reading them but feel free to send me cws for them and ill add them. also the warnings are just in the order they appear, and more specifically when they appear in the anime, so as to not have weird "x is more important than y" nonsense
general warnings
these are things that…. basically if youre triggered by these i think you should just sit this out tbh. its an amazing series but its not worth repeatedly triggering yourself. this ones just ordered alphabetically bc its throughout (read: in at least 3 parts)
blood, violence, body horror, gore, and death -amputation -animal abuse and death (especially of dogs) -decapitation -eye, nail, and mouth horror -impalement -parental and sibling death -police brutality -suicide and self harm
child abuse -child abandonment -corporal punishment -leering shots of minors bodies -pedophilia (still gets a warning every time) -physical abuse
christian themes and symbolism
drug use -alcohol -tobacco -underage drug use -unspecified white powder
fire and explosions
gambling
misogyny, both in-universe and on the part of the author
racism (gets specific warnings every time)
sexual misconduct -catcalling -rape (still gets a warning every time) -sexual assault -sexual harassment
unsanitary -eating/drinking gross things —being forced to eat/drink gross things -pee -poop -snot -vomit
vehicle accidents -car accidents -plane crashes
part 1: phantom blood
(manga only) ritual sacrifice
restricted eating
non-consensual kissing
(manga only) a dog is shown on fire
poisoning
chinese ethnic stereotypes
a baby gets eaten
part 2: battle tendency
okay im gonna rip the bandaid off now. there are nazis in this one, and its significantly worse than youd expect just reading that. im gonna quote the old list here: "there are so many nazis in this part and they’re not condemned like at all tbh". i would almost say its glorified, one of the main allies is a nazi and another main ally directly praises a different nazi. in the manga, hitler and swastikas are explicitly shown as well as nazis being called by name, but in the anime, they are removed and simply called german soldiers.
almost nothing from this part comes back in the future and what does come back is explained as it comes up or is understandable from context. so please. if you need to skip this part, just do it. i even understand if you skip the whole series because of this.
its possible some may find the mesoamerican aesthetic of the villains in this part to be insensitive or offensive. im mexican and i personally dont, but i could see why someone would
racism toward: -black people -mexican people —slavery and degradation of mexican women is explicitly shown -japanese people
hostage situation
kidnapping
human experimentation
ritual sacrifice
"man in a dress" gag and subsequent transmisogyny
unintentional incest. there are only two scenes of this, which are: -a character spying on someone (later revealed to be their mother) in the bath -going through said mothers belongings and talking about her panties
animal cannibalism
part 3: stardust crusaders
since fights in this part are much more self-contained than the other parts, its possible to skip some of these if youre triggered by them. those will be marked with chapter and episode numbers
a woman gets spontaneously undressed in the middle of a fight (only her bra shows but it happens against her will)
jotaro, a 17 year old, kisses an adult woman to save her from possession. i wouldnt really say this is pedophilia and it lasts for 1 panel/less than 10 seconds but i found it uncomfortable
while incapacitated from sickness, holly will randomly be shown naked with weird leering camera angles. this happens many more times in the anime than the manga
pedophilia (depicted as a bad thing and the victim is saved before anything happens) (skip chapters 17-19/episode 7)
native american stereotypes (skip chapters 20-22/episode 8)
"person gets replaced" trope (skip chapters 23-6/episode 9; chapters 76-79/episode 27)
infection
suffocation
drowning
"child acting like a pervert" trope (skip chapters 92-96/episodes 32-33) -in the same episodes, the child spends the entire fight naked which might be uncomfortable for some
stardust crusaders ova
this gets its own subsection due to being so different that i was having to say "this doesnt apply to the ova" for a lot of the warnings. unlike the main sdc section, since this ova is extremely pared down, there wont be skippable warnings. also note that this is in "manga order", so its 2000 ova then 1993 ova
the english voice actor for avdol (a black/egyptian character) is a white guy doing a vaguely "ethnic" accent
the non-consensual kissing thing above, here its with a girl jotaros age though
infection
suffocation
ritual sacrifice (used as the intro animation for the 1993 portion)
drowning
part 4: diamond is unbreakable
rape, pedophilia, and kidnapping mentions
physical abuse
electrocution
blackmail
yandere trope -emotional abuse -isolation -stalking -kidnapping
restricted eating
skin picking
(anime only) jumpscare
invasion of privacy (skip this part if this bothers you because one of the main allies power is just, doing this, and its constant)
"child acting like a pervert" trope
bodysnatching/"person gets replaced" trope
theres an uncomfortable scene where a child gets attacked in the bath (non-sexually). both the child and the attacker are naked for the duration of the scene
part 5: vento aureo/golden wind
gang violence/the mafia (main crux of the plot)
bullying
(anime only) racism toward japanese people
reckless driving
torture
rape (not shown just heavily implied)
terminal illness/infection/disease
(anime only) pedophilia
forced childbirth (its like, magical childbirth and the mother doesnt register it)
possibly offensive depiction of systems (systems, feel free to correct me on this)
medical malpractice
a guy gets swapped into a girls body and gropes it
part 6: stone ocean
(anime only) heavy use of chromatic aberration, which may be eye straining for some
this part is really horny, comparatively speaking. this isnt really a bad thing but depending on your level of comfort with that you may want to skip
(manga only) misgendering a trans man
hallucinations
memory loss
abuse of religious authority
(manga only, only in some translations) homophobic slur
grooming
gang violence
"disposable sex worker" trope
creepy stalker-ish behavior (the person who does it becomes a main ally & never stops or eases up)
cult
drowning
electrocution
unintentional incest
the kkk (in the anime its a generic racist mob) -lynching
part 7: steel ball run
possibly offensive depiction of native americans (feel free to correct me if youre native)
a 14 year old girl: -is a child bride and im pretty sure this isnt condemned at all -gets hit on by adults -experiences a rape attempt? -gets pregnant?
the entire plot is about curing a disability
medical malpractice
capital punishment
(only in some translations) r slur variant
homophobic slur
attempted pedophilia/rape?
"bisexual sex pest" trope (grown woman making advances toward a minor/trying to rape her)?
part 8: jojolion
ableism?
rape?
part 9: the jojolands
"unsettling gender reveal" trope
pedophilia
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head---ache · 1 year
Text
Edit: Added Spades + Some links.
Character charts!!
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This is kind of a long post btw.
I kind of want to add a bit of information about the kids that didn't seem relevant enough to add to their charts but I still would like you all to know, and I prefer to have all that information in one place.
Emmie: She's now officially the one and only Tube Baby of the group!!! I imagine Tails will later use the big fucking tube in his lab, just not for any of the kids in this group (here's a bit of context for how this happened) (Another short explanation here).
Just to quickly mention it, her full name is Emily, however, everyone in her life just calls her Emmie, because, according to her, 'it goes with her vibe' (first talked about here).
She has Black Arms DNA, and although it's uncertain how it affects her, they (Emmie and her dads) know she has green Black Arms blood (shown here) and has access to the hivemind, which as a baby she used to communicate with Shadow (here), but as she grew older she stopped using it, and now finds it harder to access to it.
She also, of course, has Chaos Energy. She can perform Chaos Control (in this one) and turn Super (that second thing they don't know until she's a teenager, shown in this comic). She also has all the abilities Sonic and Shadow share (such as spindash).
Sparks: Like I've said before, Sparks is a Belly Baby, Blaze carried (here's context)
Sparks has fire powers, similar to Blaze's, though they find it a bit harder to control. They get Blaze and Espio's help to learn to use said powers, since they require a lot of concentration. Also, again, like Blaze, they can turn into Burning Sparks (here), but that form is more unstable and drains their energy pretty fast.
I am also taking this space to clarify this about the entire family (including Tulip). Since Blaze is a princess, Amy, Sparks and Tulip do acquire royalty related titles, however, they're very informal and don't hold that much power, since Blaze didn't want them to have any responsability simply because they're related to her. So they're royalty just by name.
Lash: Another Belly Baby, your local surprise baby representation.
Like is said in her chart, her main ability is acrobatics. She also has some sort of super speed but she doesn't rely much on it.
It's not said in her chart but she has both mommy and daddy issues and is often at Aim's house. The first time she stepped into that home and Tangle and Whisper welcomed she immediately felt glued to that family (here).
Aim: I finally decided that he's also a Belly Baby, mostly because the timing didn't add up, since him and Emmie are the same age and there's only one Baby Making Tube.
Like it says in their chart, he does archery, which is his main fighting technique, however, during battle they also use their tail to move around faster (otherwise he just keeps it under his cloak) and teams up with Whisper's wisps in very rare occasions.
He does not speak, unlike Whisper who simply speaks quietly. Aim doesn't speak at all, but everyone around him eventually just finds a way to understand him (because I think it's funny). He very usually is the braincell carrier of the group.
Bria: Bria's a Belly Baby as well, it just felt like something Sonia would want.
They don't have any special ability, but they did learn martial arts as a way of self defense, consdering the group of people she often is surrounded by.
Even though Bria's hard of hearing, his biggest passion is music (over being a hero). She plays piano and guitar.
He's also the extrovert of the group. The loudest and friendliest there is. (Should I also add they're Emmie's cousin?)
Tulip: I was a bit more indecisive with him, but in the end I decided to also make him a Belly Baby, because otherwise it felt weird for that to be the one thing he has in common with Emmie. (In-universe explanation here!)
He hasn't shown any special ability yet -he's the youngest of the group though, being only ten years old-, so he isn't allowed to be around the other kids when there's danger, however, he's very sneaky and often gets things to work in his favor anyways. He does have an interest in tarot though, thanks to Amy, and he also shows to have an impressive intuition.
When he's not around Sparks he is often found next to Big, probably complaining to him about something.
Destiny: One and only Code Baby!! She's basically made from the same programming as Nicole, but more advanced and sophisticated.
Being an AI herself, she can hack robots and similar things, which helps during battle. They can also get into anyone's computer if they want to (they rarely do).
She usually takes the leader role very naturally, immediately making a plan on the spot and guiding the rest of the group. However, she's quite shy (even while being an extrovert. This forms a bit of a problem for her, wanting to be around people but being too shy to do it). Her more confident side mainly showing when assuming the role of the leader.
Spades: She's a belly baby just because of the timeline, there simply wasn't a way without changing her age to make it make sense for her to be a Tube Baby -and I like her being 16-. Unfortunately I backed myself into a corner here JSKDJSKFJWKFKS I don't have many details on how she came to be because, guess what!! There's no real way for her to be the way she is the way I want it to happen:]]] So let's just use our imagination and say that it's possible for two guys to have a kid who's biologically related to both of them because this is a world where magic color changing hedgehogs are a thing so this isn't super crazy, okay? Okay.
Like I said in this post, Spades has trajectory manipulation, so basically she will never miss her target, and can move away whatever is thrown at her, al that's pretty handy:] She also trains with Espio, so she has a lot of his abilities -which is why in her chart it says 'ninja but not really'. She doesn't really want to be a ninja but has many of the skills.
She's the mom of the group!!! And the braincell carrier. She is very sweet and caring, but also quiet and calculating. Her strategy is the best, and her stoic appareance makes her look a bit threatening, but she's actually a total sweetheart!!
Also about swimming!! She really likes it because she fines it relaxing. You can't hear anything underwater so she likes to close her eyes and just swim around.
She gets along with everyone in the group, but is usually hanging out with Aim and Lash:)
And that's it for the individual kids!!
Here's some other links of interest:
-1. Character reference sheets for all the fankids, including a height chart.
-2. A bit about Emmie's inhibitor rings.
-3. A bit more about how Emmie came to be.
-4. Voice claims!!!
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lostparadise-mp3 · 8 months
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KAEYA !!! — silly headcanons.
okay i haven't played the kaeya hangout yet BUT now that more people are on the same page as kaeya stans are, i want to talk about him again (this is just an excuse to project on kaeya and to add more headcanons about him).
note: i also haven't played cariberto. i am indeed behind on the story. not sure if it could have something to do with my hcs but just in case, i get a little anxious whenever i post anything. note 2: i already played cariberto, i've caught up with the story, but i get anxious about posting anything anyway.
silent lover that also wants to be loud about his love for you - he wants to do both !! and over time, he achieves that !!! hugs and kisses behind closed doors, whispering sweet nothings, stolen glances, tangled hands under the table, letters left on your bedside (modern au or not doesn't matter, he would leave notes or letters either way), that's his way of silently loving.
he's a passionate but soft lover. he wants to scream and announce the world his love for you, and he does, somehow, by telling his loved ones about his new special one. long chatty nights, whether at home or the city streets, whether at a park or sitting on the sidewalk, just... talking with you, listening to your voice, to your thoughts, and also, being heard and seen.
gift giving, words of affirmation, quality time, in that order. he's probably got it all five. i believe with all my heart that letters gather the holy trinity: gift giving, words of affirmation, and acts of service. i really think that, in a relationship with kaeya, he would love giving and receiving letters. he loves doing gifts, and he loves to tell you the sweetest of things. he wants to be close both physically and emotionally, even if the latter is hard to achieve for him- or both of you. it is something he yearns no matter how much he doesn't want to admit it.
maybe he can be a bit too cheesy. old fashioned lover boy, am i right? flowers for every ocassion: month-versary, birthdays, casual dates, “i saw this tiny one growing on the sidewalk and it reminded me of you” flowers, you name it. you should start drying the flowers he gives you if you haven't already. press them in a book, he will grin and slightly blush if he ever finds those.
the type to give you his jacket when it's too cold, the type to take your hands in his trying to warm them up, even though his hands are colder and now you're both laughing because of the freezed hands. hey, at least he made you laugh.
he may not be interested in long-term relationships (i am a strong believer that he is tho, btw) but he sure is interested in commitment. he may not be the first one to fall, but he sure falls harder- and if you are the one to fall harder... well, he will try to surpass that. he believes that relationships are 60-40 and each party works —and perhaps compete— to be that 60. i think he must have fooled around in his late teens and early twenties, but now that he's older he just wants a warm love, someone who can joke around with him and also hold his hand with care.
he prefers tea over coffee. it's a made up fact i choose to believe now. and maybe, just maybe, he likes to look “tough” by drinking coffee more often than tea. of course, nothing beats a good cup of wine after a nice meal.
he's an emotional drunk. he gets flashbacks of the things he would never talk about- things he would rather bury deeper in his memory, he stares with lost gaze while holding his drink at the tavern. he never cries not even once, but he seems so quiet and gloomy. he plays it as cool as he can, pretending to be the bubbly drunk, the playful one.
he longs for a family, and he knows he's found one he can hold close and dearly, but of course, he fears losing another family. he fears getting too close so he hides certain things of himself. he dreams of marriage, and maybe, if you want, adopting a child (definitely adoption because he also is afraid of sharing the blood of “the sinners”), altough he fears fatherhood as well. he fears fucking up and he fears not being able to be there for his child and most specially, he fears messing up things with you and the child you two wanted to raise together. so those are dreams, just dreams. good dreams, even.
now, getting more specific (i already said this in my first batch of kaeya headcanons lol), a demirose/demian icon. demisexual demiromantic. i think he went trough the “bi/pan to aroace” pipeline (shotout to my aroace siblings that went trough something like this !! hope you can relate), though his experience got a bit different. sure, boy's demirose, and he holds little to no preference on who he gets attracted to after that bond forms, so he doesn't put a label on that. i like to think he knows what being demirose means but he doesn't use that label a lot neither. he likes to chill, you know?
he falls slowly and has a hard time opening up even though he so much desires to do so.
ah, being demirose doesn't stop him from finding people pretty, of course. he has a thing for long hair, but if he sees a girl with short hair? he finds that very attractive too. so, long hair and strong arms. getting a bit more suggestive maybe by saying he would adore his partner's body no matter what it looks like. whether you're tall or short, slim or chubby, no muscle or a lot of muscle, hip dips or big thighs, crooked nose or crooked teeth, moles, scars... oh, sunshine, are you listing flaws or his favorite things? he would love to snuggle against you once he's warmed up to you. that means, cuddling sessions from time to time. take a nap with him, be the big spoon and he will try to hide his flushed cheeks. he doesn't like to admit it often, but his heart melts when he is held. so... hold him thight, hold him close, whisper an “i love you” and he will give you the dumbest of smiles, all head over heels for you.
another thing i wrote before is that, if you're shorter than him, he would like to tease you for that in subtle ways. he would stretch his back when walking beside you. he tends to slouch when nobody sees him, but at the sight of you he straightens up immediately, almost like someone's poking him to do so.
he is contradictory. he wants to be close, to be vulnerable, to be open and honest, but he fears being rejected, he is uncomfortable with intimacy and vulnerability, he shuts himself when he feels like he got too close to you. how will be get what he wishes if he's like this? he would cry at night for that, but tears are not so easy to come out.
on a more optimistic note, he's a picky eater. he loves sweet things, and may be the type to add too much sugar and milk into his coffee to the point where it barely tastes like actual coffee. he enjoys noelle's pancakes.
he either is tone-deaf of has the most angelic voice, there's no in between. i find it more endearing if he's tone-deaf, so he prefers to hum under his breath soft lullabies. in a mordern setting, he would enjoy ballads and romantic lyrics. jazz as well, maybe. he is not too picky about music (contrary to his picky tastebuds).
and he may not be the best dancer, he lacks flow, but he sure can dance a slow waltz with you in his kitchen at three am because you're staying over and (you) felt like having a midnight snack. not necessarily a slow waltz, maybe he just wants to be close to you and pretend to dance, whatever he is doing, but he seems confident so... he at least earns that.
random addition after leaving this soak in my drafts for a month, lol: he has a very light (is the word tame?) scoliosis and the corset thingy he wears has that purpose. now, i know it's totally wrong because a backbrace covers the whole torso but i'm being delusional and self-indulgent. i have a mild, not that annoying scoliosis that have never been treated and i choose to project. with that being said: he rubs his shoulders in any way he can before bed because they get thight from work and his goddamn back :( and he can't reach his shoulderblades even though he can feel a knot there. what a shame... if he only had a lover willing to massage his rock ass hard back for him.
i want to spread the “kaeya owns ‘i can't take my eyes off you' by frank sinatra” agenda. i have to say i was enlightened by this edit. truly wonderful.
oops, i think i got too carried away for just “some silly headcanons”, i honestly don't know if it's a good format to post these, but i like to write like this. anyway, live laugh love kaeya.
english is not my first language, if i made some kind of mistake with my wording lmk !!
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