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#﹠   .             aesthetics.      ›      there is a strength that hides within me.
koukaaa-descent · 2 months
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the fabled personal Bracken hc list..
mostly regarding biology, its relationships w/ other entities… etc... mostly just me yapping about brackens with 0 linearity
A Bracken is a collection of various recycled forms of plantlife that gathered underground into a (mostly) living being during its ‘gestation’.
During that process, it collects and absorbs some features from the plants, creatures (carrion that decomposed nearby the Bracken’s gestation spot) and minerals around it until it has developed enough to begin developing ‘thought’.
Regarding the carrion that the Bracken passively absorbs; in many cases, it simply results in differing aesthetics, patterning, and spinal structure*. If a Manticoil were to die and decompose, untouched, near a Bracken's gestation site, the Bracken may passively become more birdlike; a small beak, hooked claws (in adulthood) and clusters of thick, downy feather-like foliage closer to the skin than a typical Bracken might sport. (*Spinal structure refers to the leaves and foliage that tend to root into the Bracken's back, typically dominating the spine, collarbone, and ribcage sections of the body.)
Typically, a Bracken is made up of various different types of fungi coexisting, a species of fan-leafed plant which evolved alongside Brackens (which usually make up their spinal structures), and several small creatures (usually beginning during the Bracken’s juvenile phase) occasionally as large as a small mouse that take care of any debris, foreign liquids, or otherwise unnatural substances/materials that could injure the Bracken. Examples of small symbiotic entities include: newborn Bunker Spiders, newborn to adult manticoils, (mundane) insects and, very rarely, a Mask*. (*See the end notes.)
It’s not uncommon for a Bracken to ‘host’ a Bunker Spider’s offspring (NOT sexually), though in very small quantities; one or two maximum in return for the strong webbing that will eventually solidify into a strong, durable ‘hide’, regardless of whether or not the webs are left inside or outside of its body.
Some Bracken variations have low-strength sedative properties, while others have fairly weak vestigial poisons or venoms as a result of where they had gestated and the environment's effects.
A Bracken only ‘hatches’ on any singular planet twice every decade. It’s unknown as to why they are so sparse, though it’s theorized that the pollution and general desolation of their environments disables most of their ability to survive once they are exposed to the outside world.
On this topic; a Bracken is very fragile during the beginning of its life, displaying birdlike behaviors and croaking, rattling (a soft sound, one distinct to the Bracken species alone, typically described to sound like the click of one’s tongue and the scrape of bone against ceramic in quick succession) and huddling within its ‘nest’ until another creature appears, at which point a symbiotic relationship will be formed.
A Bracken cannot move easily on its own until after a week and a half has passed since its hatching. This is because it is still in the process of developing limbs solid enough to support its weight; a majority of its body by this point is still a buildup of roots, fungi, and plant life.
A Bracken, during its newborn phase, adopts the behaviors of those it is raised by until adulthood—after which, it wanders off on its own and usually into abandoned facilities, where they develop their common hunting behaviors. Few cases have been recorded wherein a Bracken chose to stay with those that raised it.
For example, regarding the Bracken’s behavioral mimicry, if it is raised by a pack of Eyeless Dogs, it will breathe deeply and slowly and hunch further than it usually will in adulthood. Its steps will be heavy, as though it weighs far more than it does (even though it is, truthfully, the size of a human child by this point), and it will occasionally clatter its jaws in a manner best ascribed as similar to a toucan, down to the sound alone. It is thought that the clattering behavior is used to mimic how the Dog’s large teeth click against one another during roughhousing.
A newborn Bracken can subsist off of sunlight for about one week before the demand for meat begins to truly kick in. If it is found before the ability to maneuver itself develops, the entity that will raise it will instead carry it regardless of any behaviors or aggression it should display instead. It is unknown if this occurs because of any unnatural influence from the young Bracken itself, or if it is simply instinctually hard-wired into the wildlife that they must care for the hatchling for however long it stays. Some have said that the strange behavior is rooted within the fungi developing in the Bracken's body; an evolved version of a parasitic fungus, engineered to influence another's thoughts during the war that took place roughly five hundred years ago which was since thought to have devolved into harmless forms over the years, regardless of the planet or environment. This is only a theory, however.
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ivydarkrose · 2 years
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Nathan the Nobody
Full Name:
Nathan Maxwell Lux 
Alias(s):
-Nathan the Nobody
-The Nobodies
-The Conjoined Twins
-Nat/Nate [Nickname, Pronounced just like Nate]
-Max[Old Nickname] 
-Natty, Nats [Ciara only, others he’d give them the look]
-Sass Ass [Vero]
-Pretty Boy, Bestie [Candy Pop.]
-DD [They know who they are]
Name origin:
 He is a nobody, but not as in “not cared for/loved”. After all he has people who are there for him.
Nobody comes from more of a social standpoint, a social outcast rather than someone that just dresses differently. A person not in power, or popular, etc etc.  
I view him as the very counterculture type of person, possibly what one would call an anarchist on some levels. With events years involving his twin sister, that has more less solidified his ideology on the matter. 
Sex/Gender:
Male- He/They
Age:
Approx. 22-26 years of age 
Species:
Human [Possesed?], A Visitant [Crystal]
Disabilities/Conditions: 
Heterochromia iridis (From Birth)
PTSD [Diagnosed after him and sister was found night of origin]
Others, however I am not comfortable labeling such
Ethnicity:
Mixed ethnicity (Eurasian)
Hair color:
Black 
Eye color:
Green[R] and Icy Blue[L]
Height:
6’0’ barefoot
6’2’ in boots
Weight:
190 approx. (this may need changing lol)
Birthday:
Oct 29th
Birthplace:
 He’d never tell.
Attracted to:
Personalities
Currently living in:
Deep within the woods, along with his sister.
Occupation/Type of Killer:
Assassin, SK, Angry goth guy yelling at teens to name 3 songs
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Type of Personality: 
Quiet, observant, introvert, often acting aloof. He can become very loud and lively around friends, Often joking about, other times a prankster of sorts. He often is sassy and sarcastic, you may feel his venom if he doesn’t know you or trust you. He’s a loyal guy, which this is obvious, but don’t fuck with the ones he loves and cares for. His “Don’t touch me , go away.” vibe is just a mask to keep others away. Even more so now.
He jokingly roasts his friends, but will respect boundaries unless someone crosses his. He does find it humorous to prank others, especially hiding things without others noticing, just to see their reactions. 
Betrayal is something you do NOT do with him, depending on the severity he may even act out to seek retribution, the “Eye for an Eye.”. He doesn’t always bother, as trashy, backstabbers are a waste of his time. However, he has no guilt in making sure the backstabber hurts as he deems fit,...or sending your soul in for Ciara’s quota. Price one pays for betrayal.
Likes:  
Stealth
Pranking or toying with others
CATS
His Necklace
Innuendos
Rain
Games and other assorted things
Acting on his Annoying little brother status
Calling Crystal “little Sister”
Hugs but also no
Nighttime
Horror genre
Swimming, water, etc
Goth Aesthetics 
Chocolates
Dislikes:
Broken Trust
His mother suffering
Busy bodies
Getting Jealous
Narcissists
Being told to cut his hair
People with no sense of humor
Animal abusers
Child abusers 
Trafficters 
Strengths +/Weaknesses-: 
+
Stealth Missions
Little Details
-
Green Eyes
Children
Normal human drawbacks
etc
Weapons:
-The Pipe from the room that held him captive, Now modified. The ends are slightly weighted to drive more force into the attack. 
-Things lying around, So yes he’ll pick up a knife here and there.
Character Origin Shortened:
 Nathan grew up with his twin sister, Crystal and his Mother. His father buried himself in his work, while the excuse was to support the family, it was also to avoid getting into confrontations with his own son. So while his father was there, he was very much lacking the role in the family dynamic.
One unfortunate day, Him and his sister were abducted by a group who dealt with black market trades. Upon pissing them off, He was left to rot in a dark, cold cellar room, trapped behind a metal door. His sister's well being only on his mind, and the ever growing anxiety between the two. His sister suffered a great amount of torment from the group who were left to their own devices, Her own rage turned into a gruesome death... Just moments before Nathan escaped his own imprisonment.
Once realizing he failed his sister, his grip on being the protective brother she needed faded away and crashed into a hard dilution. Her voice echoed the sentiment of making them and everyone connected pay for this. Unable to accept her death, he locked that part of her death away deep, deep in his mind and continued to believe she is alive, but only if he takes care of the group that made him suffer, that made them both suffer. He didn't stop at the ones in that house, aiming his anger at everyone he believes to be a part of this organization. Enjoying the idea of watching those members die, only able to see them as ones who harmed his family.
Quotes:
“ We are two halves of one coin.”
“No one can separate us.”
“Drip… Drip…  Drip… this sound haunts me, yet comforts me.”
Character's soundtracks/Themes:
Time of Dying 
Down With the Sickness - Disturbed (Cover)
Charcoal Tongue - "Control" (by Halsey) 
Songs on his phone:
Otep - Confrontation
After Dark 
Out Of Control She Wants Revenge
Kidneythieves - Crazy 
The Birthday Massacre - Red Stars
[More to add However i’ll do that in a spotify list or his TH idk lol]
__________________________________________________
Family/Relatives:
[Mother]
Alexa K. Morin-Lux
[Father]  
Calix* J. Lux (*Not Birth Name, Chosen English name)
[Aunts/Uncles] 
2 Aunts, 1 Uncle
-Cousins-
[Unnamed x 3]
[Siblings]  
-Father’s side- 
Terrance [Elder Half Brother], Ren [Second Elder half Brother]
-Mother’s side- 
Crystal Lux [Twin Sister, Deceased…?]
[Niblings]
Two (which he secretly spoils)
[WIP]
Friends/Allies:
Candy Pop [Canon best friend], Puppeteer, Crystal, Jason, Sally, Vine, Grande, Jane R, More to be Named
Neutral with:
Jeff the Killer, Morivin, Drolsoir, Slenderman, BEN,  more to be named
Enemies:
Night Terrors, more to be named
Romantic Relationships:
Ciara H. Callaghan [Child of Possed Candy Pop aka Night Terrors]
Previous Relationship: 
[3 Exs]
Sarah
TBN- NB bean
TBN
The Story of How he Met Ciara:
Being Best Friends with Candy Pop, Nathan often ran into and met the children of Night Terrors/ Night Terrors Fused Candy Pop also known as the Anathema. One of these hybrids he met was Ciara, who promptly took issues with Nathan. She was easily coaxed by others to mess with Nathan, her reasoning at the time was him being too weak.
Being around her and her siblings was a risk, given if Candy pop wasn’t in control then the  horrible demonic influence of Night Terrors put his life in danger. An ending that would be slow as Night Terrors would gleefully torment Candy Pop with the loss of another person he cares for.
Nathan would sneak around, and wait to make sure it was safe to get near. He himself enjoyed being around Ciara, even with her harsh behavior, something about her he just admired. Something he assumed was her strength, being able to protect herself and avoid dangers is what drew Nathan to Ciara.
Along with Pop, she picked up on calling Nathan “pretty boy” which he never found offensive and gladly welcomed, always giving her a smirk along with the nickname. Nathan picked up on her apprehension and overall strange behavior around him. Being somewhat of a button pusher and troll himself, he opted to start teasing her in a more gushy manner, enjoying her reactions to his advantages. This also leads him into coherising her to train him, so he may get stronger.
Over time, she opened up to him more, her own view of being less femminine, too much of a tomboy, especially compared to him, jealousy over his looks vs her rough appearances and scars. Truthfully she had unhealthy ways of managing her feelings due to how she grew up, and he gave her all new feels, that made her feel like running many miles at the sight of him.
They both connected emotionally, both of them losing their twin in one way or another. Both holding onto trinkets from their twins. This connection just helps them to grow stronger to one another. Her the bracelet from her twin brother and him the necklace he carries. All of her suffering was something that Nathan could more than sympathize and relate to. They found a confort with one another, leading to feeling passion, a spark. 
He admired her strength, feeling ease knowing no one could take her away from him, like his own family was. Until he realized the true situation of Night Terrors dawned on him, one that affected not only her, but his best friend Candy pop. 
__________________________________________________
Notes/Facts: 
- In case the info is a TLDR, Nathan’s while not BUFF is lean, mostly thanks to Ciara who trains him
- A Lot of this info is lifted from his Umbra Ref, because one in the same pretty much lol
-Its been a while since I touched a lot of this info, so I might be forgetting things 
Art and Nathan the Nobody (Nathan Maxwell Lux)  © IvyDarkRose
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moonleeai · 9 months
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My Moon
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“ARMY Birthday Bash” BWHQ Fic Gifting Event
🖤 Written for Sara🖤
➢ Fic Pairing: Vampire Jin x Human Namjoon ➢ First Person POV ➢ AU: Vampires ➢ Rating: MA 🔞 ➢ WC: 5,371 ➢ Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst ➢ Trope: Strangers to Lovers ➢ Requested details: angsty vampire story ➢ Warnings: M x M sex, cursing, pain, blood drinking, obsession, forced vampirism
A/N: Thank you Jasz @downbad4yoongi , Leah @colormepurplex2, and Kari sunkissedwriter for beta reading and helping shape this story for Sara!!
Summary: Seokjin hides his vampire identity in a sleepy town as a restaurateur. He spends his time living off animals and creating to die for meals until a new handsome face comes to town. Like the moon loves the sky, there is an instant attraction, but Seokjin may be too much.
🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙
Living as a modern-day vampire is simple and fun. Nowadays, no one cares if you’re a vampire as long as you’re not trying to kill them. They also don’t want to see or hear about how I satiate my hunger. My body has adapted to being in the sun and living off more than just human blood. My powers have weakened some, but I can still use my levitation and greater strength whenever I need. I don’t use them too often because I want to fit in and act as human as possible.
Becoming a butcher in disguise at a trendy eatery is my most clever façade yet. Kosmos, nestled between plenty of pretty coffee and pastry cafes, is my haven, so to speak, my safe place where I can fit in with the crowd. A delicatessen with a condo above it, a rooftop deck, and a large garden in the back. I found this sleepy but safe town along the Baltic Sea when I fled my last city from vampire hunters. I quickly became named the most handsome man with a sleek and classy aesthetic delicatessen, where I sell sliced meats and creative dishes. 
Human blood became boring to me ages ago. The hunt for wild animals is much more thrilling but also has much less risk than hunting humans. I tame my violet eyes by thriving off animal blood, something I’ve been doing longer than I can remember. In the restaurant, I can slaughter and cook the most exquisite meals, satiating my deepest cravings. I only open Kosmos four days a week, staying open well into the late hours and spending the other evenings hunting and experimenting with new dishes. 
Tonight is busier than usual. In an effort to liven up the area, the town council brought in a new art gallery, and from the talks of everyone, there’s a fetching curator as well. Kosmos happens to be the closest eatery, drawing many patrons in after they’ve visited the gallery. The artwork descriptions are fascinating, but the person they describe sounds much more intriguing. Tall, broad, drop-dead dapper; all words I’ve only heard folks using on myself. I'm a bit jealous of all the attention this new curator is getting, so I must see him for myself.
Instead of my usual day hunting, I decide to take a gander at the art gallery. Everyone is correct. The tall, burly man that greets the guests is devastatingly beautiful. I am possessed by his loveliness which leads me to spend countless days taking peeks from the sidewalk inside the small space through the large Crittall-style window. The art keeps the people busy enough not to notice me lurking day after day. 
Tonight, out of curiosity, I follow the new man. He rides a bicycle slowly and seems to enjoy the small-town views. With earbuds, he hums along to a tune I cannot hear. His apartment building is nice. A stunning yellow two-story home with dark accents and a maroon roof aside a cobblestone path. Outside of the front door, somehow within the cracks of the stones, are robust red flower bushes that rest along the house perimeter.
I perch myself on the roof of the home across the street and have a perfect view of this gorgeous man. I watch as he relaxes with a glass of whiskey and reads a book until he’s cleaning up and going upstairs. A bedroom light shines dimly through the upstairs window, completely unobscured. I stare as he undresses, removing his clothing, rough and messy, and tossing them onto the floor. As he turns off the light and lies in bed, the moon casts a perfect glow onto his silhouette. His chest slowly rising and falling is soothing. 
So soothing that time passes too quickly, and before I know it, the sun is rising. Today, I will make my existence known and visit this dreamy man at his gallery. Slowly but surely, I will make him fall in love with me and want to live eternally by my side. 
When I arrive at the art gallery, the man is occupied with a few guests, so I walk around aimlessly. Black hair compliments his warm honey skin under a white shirt tucked into cream slacks. While conversing with others, his dimples shoot daggers into hearts, and his deep voice soothes the sharp pain. 
“Hello, I’m Namjoon,” his deep voice boasts. As if I haven’t been watching his every move, I feign startled when he arrives by my side. His chocolate eyes pierce my dead soul within seconds.
“Seokjin,” I reply, flashing my sultry grin while extending my hand to grasp his in a handshake. His scent is warm and inviting…a soft rose with a hint of jasmine, something I now wish to smell endlessly.
“What do you think? These are ones I’ve collected over the years.”
“I’m not much on art… just wanted to check out the newest talk of the town.” My eyes roam his tall, brawny frame, and a subtle blush blooms on his cheeks.
“There are no right or wrong answers when it comes to art,” Namjoon says while placing a hand on my shoulder and guiding me to another piece. “This one is by Yun Hyong-keun. Inspired by nature, he combined colors like those of earth and water tones.  He would spread the pigments over days, weeks, or even months to create intense darkness, implicative of the hardships he endured.” 
Not only is this man beautiful, but he is also intelligent. His eyes gleam as he speaks of the artist. 
“You got all that from looking at a painting?” Namjoon chuckles at my ignorance. “Do you do any painting yourself?” His eyes turn dark, and it looks like he’s deep in thought when he finally responds with a side grin. He nods his head to a side door and begins walking toward it, so I follow.
Namjoon slides the door open, holding it for me to pass through, and then closes it behind us. The dark room has a few paintings with a single dim spotlight casting over each piece. 
“These are my personal works,” Namjoon says.
There aren’t many colors, all gray, black, and red. A deep vibrant red. He tells me about a few of the pieces. The first one is like a window; two large black rectangles enclosed by a thick, vivid scarlet border. Hazy with muddy edges where the colors bleed together. There’s another canvas with a frail, ghostly white being against a black background smeared in red hues. At first glance, one may perceive that it’s a dress, but I see blood pouring over the body. Both are labeled as ‘Untitled’.
My favorite, though… displays interesting shadowy woods. The smudging of the paint looks like thick fog around grayish tree trunks. What’s fascinating is the leaves are clusters of red dots, bright and burgundy shades, creating a beautiful depth while also looking like blood splatter. 
I listen intently as Namjoon explains his art. Aside from his brawns and brains, his voice is hypnotic. I find myself stuck watching his mouth, his tongue bouncing around, forming each word perfectly. I subconsciously draw my bottom lip between my teeth, concentrating on his alluring mouth.
“You’re quite handsome; you know that?” Namjoon speaks, breaking me from my thoughts.
“I know, I never get old.” I wink, and Namjoon chuckles, clearly amused by my antics.
“Would you…maybe… like to spend more time together?” Namjoon asks, and I find the shyness of his words endearing. 
“I’d love that.” I reach for his hands and rub my thumbs over his knuckles. Namjoon notes my touch is cold but never pulls away. I know my heart would be shaking in my chest if it still beat, but it sits frozen in my ribcage as it has for centuries.
🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙
For our first date, we meet at a coffee shop. Quaint, relaxed, and the most refreshing iced Americanos. We both wear our version of casual attire. Namjoon’s slate-gray t-shirt is devilishly low, the v-cut plunging between his perky chesticles, hugging his biceps tightly. My eyes drift, following the curves he has on display; I don’t care if I get caught, either. The conversation is easy, steady. Small talk and casual getting to know each other. My mind is set on one thing…making him my lover…my forever, in just three lunar phases. I just need to tell him I’m a vampire.
On the next date, we take a stroll through architecture-filled historical sites and gardens with maps and pamphlets in one hand and our other hands busy with interlocked fingers. If my cold hands ever bother him, he never mentions it. We steal glances of each other every second we can. Here in the botanical garden, surrounded by lush trees with leafy branches, the weather is perfect, and flowers are in full bloom. Next to a pond is a gazebo where we find a bench to rest and hold hands. Listening to the birds sing around us, we talk and learn more about each other. I decide to tell him about my uniqueness. 
“There’s something I need to tell you, and I really hope it doesn’t scare you away.”
Namjoon turns toward me, giving his full attention.
“I’m just going to say it… no sugar coating… no—”
“Just say it,” Namjoon interrupts, his eyes frantically searching for clues as his heartbeat speeds up.
“I-- I’m-- a vampire.” I wince at the words shutting my eyes tight. When I hear no sounds, I peek through my eyelids, confronted by dimples. “I’m serious, Namjoon. I should’ve told you sooner, but—” My words are cut off by Namjoon’s finger delicately placed on my lips.
“Can I say I kind of knew?”
Confused, I reply, “You… knew?”
“Your skin is perfect porcelain, and you have the coldest touch. You dress more dapper than most our age. I’ve seen your violet eyes… and don’t get me started on your very interesting butcher hobby. Need I say more?”
“And that…none of that scared you away?”
Namjoon tightens his hands around mine. “I’ve never felt more smitten…more ensnared to a person like I am with you. A vampire, a wolf, or a bear…I’d still find you insanely attractive, and dare I say, I’d love you the same.”
“Love?” I feel like I’m hearing things, Namjoon really loves me already. “We’re like two volcanoes talking together then.” 
Namjoon scrunches his eyebrows. “What?”
“I lava you, too.” After we both laugh like windshield wipers on dry glass, I lean in and kiss his cheek. A huge weight lifted from my shoulders; now I know he will spend forever with me. 
🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙
I plan our third date wisely. I am yearning to be close to him, so we go to the Forest of Wisdom, an hour’s drive with thoughtful conversation and getting to know more about each other. He tells me he’s always been fascinated with vampires and their abilities. Much as to why his art is mostly black and red, aligning with my original impression of blood splatter. To my surprise, he has a vast knowledge and is very calm talking about vampires. Namjoon and I find seats on the floor, and he reads me a book of poems with our shoulders pressed together.
“Ah this one, by Alexandra Vasiliu…’I want to bloom in your arms like the moon blooms in the night’s arms.’ I love that.”
I stare at his chestnut orbs, reading over the words in a loop, watching his eyebrows furrow while he’s lost in thought. I look to the next page and read, “‘If I were the moon, I would want you to be my sky.’ Namjoon, I think I shall call you my moon.”
“I’d like that,” Namjoon coos, snuggling into my side.
Quickly I’m learning Namjoon’s pleasures. He enjoys touch, and I feel his infatuation grow as he sneaks light touches in disguise of picking or brushing lint balls off my shirt. I catch him staring quite often, obviously entranced by my ethereal beauty.
On the way back, seated in the car, his baggy shorts hike up to his mid-thigh. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh, I move his shorts upward a bit more and feel his warmth under my icy palm. He shivers but places his hand on top of mine, keeping me there.
🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙
Tonight, Namjoon wants to try cooking, making something delicious together. This, I’m a master at. I close Kosmos for the night and teach him everything I know. He brought an expensive bottle of whiskey that we share most of the night, and I show him different techniques with knives. I leave him to cut an onion and carrot while I whisk the sauce; things happen so quickly I can’t remember the order in which they occur. A thud and a gasp from Namjoon, and then a smell that overwhelms my senses. My eyes flash violet, and I am next to Namjoon within seconds. I reach for his hand and bring it to my mouth, letting the droplets of blood fall on my tongue. He tastes like syrupy butterscotch. My eyes roll to the back of my head as a growl escapes my throat.
Fangs threatening to appear, I pull his hand away and pull him into me, close. “Are you okay, my moon?”
He pulls away and studies my eyes. “Kiss me,” he whispers.
Confused, I stay still, but his lips crash into mine. My cock throbs as he explores my mouth with his tongue, giving me a taste of his whiskey breath, a mixture of barley and vanilla.
“Let me get you upstairs to tend to your cut.” I lead him to the stairs up into my home and sit him on the couch while I go to get the first aid kit. I dab some ointment on and place a band-aid over the cut. Namjoon places a hand behind my head and brings me into another kiss that I can’t resist. Who would want to? 
He moans into my mouth before breaking the kiss, “That was fucking hot… the way you licked my wound.”
I sit back against the couch. Carefully watching this mountain of a man remove his shirt and press his body into mine. My eyebrows arch at his boldness.
“Your heart is racing,” I note while tracing my hand over his chest, riling goosebumps.
“Do you want to taste more?” Namjoon mewls, pecking my lips fiercely.
“What are you suggesting?”
“You like blood, and I have what you like. I’ll try new things… for you.” Namjoon’s eyes long for acceptance. Who am I to turn away his desire to please me? Especially if it lets me taste his saccharine blood again.
My breath gets caught in my throat, admiring his body as he tilts his head to the side to expose his neck. He leans closer and deeply whispers, “Bite me.”
My head spins at the words, lips barely brushing his skin as one of his hands firmly grips my inner thigh. The pounding of his heart sends shock waves through my body, and my cock strains against my pants. Namjoon eagerly climbs into my lap and entangles his fingers in my hair, yanking my head back to make eye contact.
“I don’t want to hurt you; a bite is painful,” I warn, giving Namjoon a chance to change his mind.
“Pain is pleasure, Seokjin. Do it. Bite me.”
I smirk, lick my lips, and dig my frosty fingers into his waist before pushing my mouth onto his plump lips. I trail my tongue to his neck and suck for a moment before my fangs appear and scrape against his skin. One moan from Namjoon and my fangs sink into his skin like a warm knife through butter. My eyes loll with ecstasy flowing through my body.
“Ah, fuck,” Namjoon groans, and his body squirms in discomfort. But as I swallow a tongue-full of blood, I withdraw my fangs and soothe the painful punctures. I suck again, grunting when his hips grind down on mine, hissing into his neck at the touch of his clothed bulge against mine. His soft whines turn me on further, lost in his soul as I take more blood, coating every crevice of my mouth. Human blood has never tasted this good; I need to control myself.
I feel blood dribble down my chin, and I pull away from him, fascinated by the maroon rivulets that flow down his neck toward his chest. I’ve never seen anything more erotic than him dripping with blood, lips turned in a pout, and asking for more. I watch, amused, as blood trickles down to his nipple, begging for my mouth. Latching onto him, I gently suck his nipple into my mouth and then lick up the blood trail, my tongue grazing his skin back up to the puncture marks. The marks will heal before the night ends, leaving just a bruise.
“Seokjin,” my name plummets from his lips in a soft gasp, his hips bucking into mine. “Touch me,” Namjoon pleads. His thumb runs over my lip to collect stray blood before pushing his thumb into my mouth. I suck on his thumb and pull from it, making a popping sound, then move my hands to his waist. He stands while I tug his pants and briefs off. He tugs at my pants, and I lift my hips off the couch as he eases them to my knees, my aching cock hitting my stomach.
Namjoon straddles me again, licks his lips, and presses his plush lips into mine. I kiss him back, moaning when he nips my bottom lip, tongue tangling with his as he deepens the kiss. His large hands grip my shoulders as he slides his cock against mine and rests his forehead on my shoulder. I fight the urge to sink my teeth into him again.
I fuck my cock against Namjoon’s, swipe my hand over our tips, and spread the precum over our shafts, squeezing them both with one hand. It doesn’t cover us both, but it’s enough friction to feel good, too good. I stroke us at various paces until Namjoon’s body tenses. I can feel he’s ready to burst.
“Cum all over me, paint my stomach,” I encourage him with my tongue in his mouth. Namjoon shakes, and hot cum spurts onto my stomach. He lowers his head and sinks his teeth into my shoulder as he rides out his high, hips stuttering and starting to slow.
His bite sends me over the edge, and I groan as my cum explodes and mixes with his. He deepens another kiss, pressing his body into the stickiness between us. We stay like this until our breathing slows, caressing each other. Namjoon sighs and grabs his shirt, wiping us off and cleaning my stomach.
“We should do this again sometime,” Namjoon praises before climbing off me and finding his clothes.
“Stay,” I say, a little more pleading than I intend. Namjoon smiles and drops his clothes back to their place on the floor.
🌙🌙🖤🩸🖤🌙🌙
The next morning, when I come back from my hunting, Namjoon is gone. I go to his home and find my place on the roof across the street and watch him through the window. This time, he’s painting. A black and gray scheme with a walking path between rocky hills and skinny bare trees. He dips his brush in red and paints a huge circle in the middle, a blood moon. Then he’s back to black, stroking lines into a figure of a person with a cape blowing in the wind. The finishing touch, though…I’m not sure what to make of it. He dips his brush in the white and creates a sword in the person’s hand. An individual with a silver-looking sword walking toward a blood moon.
I don’t think Namjoon knows or understands what the meaning of a blood moon is for vampires. My desire for blood is boosted times a thousand, which usually causes conflict for my kind. People become more aware of vampire existence during the blood moon, and therefore I, as well as others, are faced with imminent threats and conflicts.
I’ll tuck this in the back of my mind for a later conversation because, again, the time has quickly passed, and the sun is setting. On my way back to my place, a great idea sparks my mind to have Namjoon willingly agree to be my eternal lover. He loves plants and the outdoors, so I will create a garden for him. Something he can look forward to maintaining for all eternity. 
In between spending time with Namjoon, I spend the next few weeks preparing, finding, and importing exotic, fully bloomed night flowers and plants for a moon garden where I will confess my love and propose an immortal life together. Purple fountain grass that rustles in the breeze. Plenty of flowers to shine under the moonlight like the fragrant iceberg rose, giving off fruit and honey scents. White wonder caladium with its green edges and pink veins throughout the white leaf. Clusters of phlox, jasmine, and moon flowers with their lemony perfume. 
I use pebbles and white marble chips to create a crescent design on the ground. A small waterfall provides the soothing sound of running water and reflects the moonlight. In the middle of it all, a makeshift bed with comforters and pillows. This is where I will ask Namjoon to be my eternal lover and hear him beg me to turn him into an immortal like me. Here is where we will confess our love and be one with each other for time without end. I even set up an easel with a canvas and all the art supplies he could possibly need to paint boundless pictures of the garden.
Namjoon arrives for our evening together dressed casually elegant. A loose-fitting cream, cashmere sweater with a polo neck paired with black weaved leather pants. His style puts mine to shame with my white satin button-down shirt tucked liberally into black slacks. After sharing a meal and tender touches, I tell him I have a surprise. I’m nervous and have to hide my shaking hands as I blindfold him and take his hand, carefully guiding him outside into the garden I created out of love. I remove his blindfold, and he inhales sharply. While he takes in every detail, I watch the stars twinkle in his coffee-colored eyes. 
“A moon garden… for my moon.” I point to the area with the painting supplies and then shove my hands in my pockets, “and all the things for you to let out your creativity.” Waiting for his response, my stomach flips, thinking how close I am to spending an eternity with him.
“It's ethereal and perfect, just like you.” Namjoon kisses me deeply, holding the back of my head with one hand. Pulling away, he murmurs, “I love it.” 
I slot my lips with his and suck his lower lip between my teeth; feeling greedy, I declare, "I want to ruin you and make you mine for eternity." My brain short-circuits, and all subtleness is out the door. Namjoon tenses, then he simply grins at the statement.
“Ruin me, Seokjin,” he whimpers.
Namjoon glows under the full moon, and I am eager to make him mine. Standing next to the garden bed, I trace my hands along his mountainous ridges. I listen to his coos and swallow them as they escape from his throat. We tear at each other's pants, and he tugs roughly on my blouse, sending buttons soaring in opposite directions. I moan in response to both his passion and his palm caressing my confined cock. Free of our imprisonments, I lower him onto the blankets, surrounded by pillows. 
Namjoon’s eyebrows rise for a quick second before relaxing again. “Your eyes, they’re exquisite.” I drop my head to his neck, acting shy of his compliment, and sprinkle his skin with kisses. Is this when I ask him? No, not yet.
I feel Namjoon reaching for something, so I glance toward his hand. He’s pulling a bottle of lube from his pants pocket. I look into his eyes and wait for him to say something.
“Ruin me. Bite me. Make me yours.” Namjoon’s words have blood rushing to my cock, and I rut against his rock-hard thigh. 
“Your wish is my desire.”
“What are you? A genie?” 
I drench my fingers along with Namjoon's hole with the lube. Carefully, I push one finger past his rim, taking my time to loosen him up for me, showering him with gentle kisses... for now. "Is this okay?" I ask while dragging my teeth over his prickled skin.
"More, Seokjin, please," his whine spirals into my ear, sending a thrill down my spine. I insert another finger, praising him with words and soft suckles along his neck. I linger over his vein, letting it pulsate on my tongue. The throbbing on my tongue excites me more, and my hips rock, pushing my swelling cock into his leg again.
"More," he breathes. 
"My moon. You're so good for me," I moan low and soothe his tense body with my lips.
“Bite me, Seokjin, please. I need more–” his words are cut off by his moans.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please…” he begs continuously, almost in tears. I gaze at his body’s slight movements, his chest heaving, before I sink my fangs into his succulent neck. His butterscotch blood fills my mouth immediately, and Namjoon hisses as I swallow. I pump my fingers quicker, scissoring them as I swallow more nectar.
"I'm ready, please. I can't wait any longer."
I pull away, hide my fangs and drown myself in more lube. I watch his blood trail onto his shoulder and slowly press my girth into him. His sounds, oh his sounds. If I didn't have centuries of self-control, I would've cum already.
"Seokjin–ah– you're s–so big. Go–ah–slow, please, please, please, slow," Namjoon begs as his body writhes underneath me.
Slowly, my cock bottoms out inside Namjoon, and I pause, allowing him to breathe through it. I press my lips on his and use my tongue to part his lips, tangling our tongues, numbing his mind from the sting of the stretch.
"So good, my moon. You're doing so so good." My cock throbs inside his tight muscle. "Mmmm, can you feel that?" I subtly move my hips and swallow each mewl he makes. I pull my face away and look into his eyes as I drag my cock slowly out of him and push back in a little quicker. His glassy eyes flutter, and I raise my hand to his cheek, brushing away a single tear with my thumb. "Shhh, it's going to feel so good. I promise."
The garden fills with moans and pants as I drag my cock slowly against Namjoon's walls, licking from his collarbone to his shoulder, getting every last drop. I cage his head with my arms and quicken my pace, watching and feeling how his body reacts to me. He ruts his cock against my stomach, seeking any kind of friction.
"Fuck. Yes, like that," Namjoon moans, his back arching off the makeshift bed of blankets. His ass swallows my cock so deliciously; it’s a torturous pleasure.
I rise to my knees, unsheathing myself, and a whimper escapes Namjoon's lips. I pull his hips to my waist, and his shoulder blades rest on the ground. I maneuver a pillow under his hips before turning my attention to his raging pink cock with pre-cum that glistens in the moonlight. I spit in my hand, then caress his thick length, smearing it around and mixing it with his fluids. His body shakes with pleasure, all for my eyes. I take my other hand and squeeze his throat before following his perfectly sculpted lines down his chest and to his abs. I abandon the lube and align myself with his hole, entering slowly and as deep as I can.
Namjoon rasps a deep, stuttered moan as he pushes his ass into me. I stroke his cock rhythmically with my thrusts until he releases his warm arousal onto my hand and all over his stomach. I slow, only to finish depleting his every last drop, then press my hand firmly against his stomach, smearing the sticky substance. He smells of jasmine and honey, like the flowers around us, I immediately want to taste it. 
I bring my hand to my mouth and lick his remnants, growling in pleasure. This excites Namjoon, and he clenches around my cock. I gasp and feel my cock twitch inside him. The moonlight highlights every bead of sweat on Namjoon's torso as I pump furiously inside him. His accentuated plump veins and arteries, with his breathless sobs, are the push I need to find my release. Head falling back, I roll over the edge and fill him with my release. My body crumbles on top of him, and I slow my hips milking my cock to completion. I place my arms on either side of his head, soaking in his beauty, feeling drunk on love. 
I kiss him wildly and then lazily lift myself and roll to his side as he wraps his arms around me. I run my hand over Namjoon's hair and tuck it behind his ear, basking in an afterglow.
But as we lock eyes, I sense something is off with my love. He’s next to me but seems so far away. My chest tightens.
“Everything…okay?”
“Why did you do all this for me? This garden with beautiful plants and a perfect view under the moon?”
“Because I love you, Namjoon. I want to be with you forever and make you the happiest—” I didn’t want to ask him to be my immortal partner this way, laying next to each other, naked, half covered in blankets.
“Happiest… what?” 
“Well, you already know so much about vampires, and you seem really fascinated with them, so I—I don’t know. I was hoping you’d maybe want to be one… with me.”
Namjoon’s lips move, but no words come out. 
“Have you ever thought about what it’d be like?” I ask, trying to pry words from him.
“No,” he answers quickly.
“Oh—okay…Wh—what about being with me? For good?”
“Why couldn’t I stay human?” Namjoon abruptly sits up and grabs for his clothes. Dressing frantically while I rush to do the same.
“I mean, I just thought we could be together…endlessly. It would hurt too much to watch you age and leave me.”
“I don’t want to give up my human life,” Namjoon nearly whispers, and I can feel the uncertainty of the future weighing heavily on his mind.
“Why? What can be better than eternal life with me? Your true love?”
“I—I want to experience life…I don’t want to be stuck here forever…” Namjoon sputters. 
“But you can see the world. Every country, every food, enjoy owning the rarest items or plants…” I try to reason with him, calm his worries even.
“I don’t want to survive off blood and watch the world pass me by!” Namjoon yells, and the blood I’ve stored in my body begins to boil. My eyes feel different, I can feel them change, but it’s not the same. “Your eyes, they’re a reddish tint.”
My anger boils through my limbs, and I lurch toward Namjoon. He runs behind the easel and picks up a paintbrush, angling the handle toward me like he wants to stab me. “Stop! Don’t come any closer!” Namjoon shouts, trying to keep me at bay.
“I’ll have you, no matter what!” 
I use my power and conquer him, sinking my fangs into his neck, this time, not letting go. My entire strength is used to subdue him and drink his blood. The difference is I don’t stop. Not until I feel a cold, black cloud surround me. I drank just enough to leave Namjoon alive but unconscious next to me.  I bite my wrist and open his mouth, squeezing drops of my blood into his mouth and coax his throat to help him swallow.
I have never wanted anyone this badly; this is the only way that will make him stay with me forever. I kiss his lips and lay patiently by his side, awaiting my new eternal lover to awaken to our new life.
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ciaossu-imagines · 2 months
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So, while I got a couple of fun surprise box and match-ups on the personalization day of the event, nobody requested from the prompts! However, I really did want to make use of all the prompts, so I did both up for some tumblr uses I feel relatively friendly and close with, so you'll find those among the unrequested prompt posts, including this one! I hope at least the person it's for will enjoy it, and if these kind of things bore you as a reader, I apologize and hope you'll enjoy tomorrow's post!
Personalization Prompt #2 – C
BLACK: what face claim from an anime, comic book or cartoon do I associate with you?
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If I had to pick, I guess the one my mind first comes up strongly with is Mirai Kuriyama from Beyond the Boundary? I don’t know, the colouring feels right plus she looks cute and young, and I just imagine you very youthful and adorable.
WHITE: what flame type and box weapon do I think you’d have in the khr!verse?
I do very much see you as a Mist Flame, which means, of course, that like most Mist Flame users in KHR, I do see you as an illusionist! I like picturing you use your creativity to really bring about these illusions, hiding lies within truth, truth within lies to really protect your ‘family’, those characters, and people you love. It’s funny, because outside of fighting, you’re a straight shooter and your creativity is shown in other ways, but that’s the flame and fighting style I picture for you within KHR! I also think your box weapon would a Mist blue jay…for those unfamiliar, it’s a type of bird. I’m going with the positive meanings of the bird as a spirit animal, when I chose it for you, which are intuition, strength of character, loyalty, and the ability to adapt and be resourceful in difficult situations.
RED: what aesthetics do I associate with you?
Blank word documents quickly filling up with text. Bright, sunlit warm days in lush green parks. Hoodies, nice, warm, and fluffy on the inside. The fae. Cracking a book open for the first time, the new book smell and unblemished pages. Happy smiles that crinkle the eyes and hint at laughter. Chocolate.
BLUE: what are three songs I’d put on a playlist for you?
I actually stick pretty strongly for the three I did over here for you already 😊
YELLOW: what fictional world out of all my fandoms would I picture you in?
I can pretty easily picture you in any of my fandoms because we do know each other pretty well. I picture you most often in K Project, obviously, because that’s the fandom that brought you to this blog, but also in KHR and Servamp!
GREEN: who would I pair you with out of all my fandoms?
Oh, I kind of answered this elsewhere for you, haha, but I stick with all those answers 😊
PURPLE: what gif reminds me of you?
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PINK: if you were an AU, what type of AU would you be?
Ohhh, definitely a soulmate type of AU, just because romance is something you write a lot of, it’s a lot of what we talk about when we talk about our OC’s and such. So the AU has to have romantic overtones…I think the soulmate AU would probably be one of those ‘you’re cursed in some sense until you meet your soulmate. Once you do, your soulmate breaks your curse and gives you your ‘happy ever after’.
RAINBOW: if i were to write a khr sequel, following Tsuna’s demise, and could only use my reader’s as characters, who would you be?
Definitely see you as part of the Vongola, that’s for sure. While I don’t know if you’d be a Guardian, I definitely see you being a part of the inner circle, not only taking care of the individual family members but probably using your Mist Flames to cloak and protect the family’s stronghold.
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archive2394934 · 1 year
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So I actually wanted to post something cool I noticed that I was reminded of thanks to this post.
We almost actually never get to see Vecna in s4 in like, normal lighting, and it obscures a lot of his ‘features. One of the features it obscures is his predominant “dark veins” or like, I don’t know how to describe, the dark/discolored patches on his skin-- and why am I bringing that up? Because this seems to have something to do with his powers and, moreover, it might have to do with the mindflayer. Let me just explain real quick. 
We’ve seen when the MF/cloud thing/shadow monster, enters someone’s body, when its not “hiding” it manifests with dark veins similar to what we see all over Vecna in various forms. This was very evident with Will, when he was possessed by the MF and they started to try to draw it out from within him. As the mindflayer gets close to the surface, Wills veins turn black. 
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Will also starts to gain super strength of some kind. He begins to literally howl and scream and even talk some type of distorted gibberish, all in a very monstrous/demonic fashion. In fact, it kind of reminds me of every scene in every movie that depicts demonic possession and that is obviously the intentional aesthetic here. 
We also saw these black veins and even darkened patches of “rotted” skin, with Billy when he was flayed, and a similar thing with other flayed victims. Billy also gains heightened strength when the mindflayer gets full control, and starts to behave in a demonic manner. The signs of rot and decay we can suddenly see on Billy’s skin are particularly interesting to me, given we have seen, in season two in particular, that anything biological that the mindflayer makes contact with starts to rot.  And I can’t help but think of this quote from hallucination Brenner thanks to Kali in season 2 as well: “You have a wound, Eleven. A terrible wound. And its festering. Do you remember what that means? Festering? It means a rot. And it will grow. Spread. And eventually it will kill you.” I feel like this is extremely symbolic to a lot of themes in the show in general, but anyway back to that inhuman squealing/screeching. The vines make that sound on their own, and we can probably confirm they are parts of the MF. (A scene for reference) The vines on/in Vecna’s body are not even exempt. We can literally hear a hissing and clicking noise coming from them from time to time, not to mention the fact they’re almost always moving. 
Vecna is the most physically changed by the MF and I think his entire body at this point shows signs of being, FOR LACK of a better term, “possessed” by the mindflayer. From the Mindflayer’s vines that have literally merged with him, to the black veins, to the obvious signs of rot and decay that are basically trademarks to the MF.  Remember how I mentioned the upside down when Henry was first pushed through to it looks like a world that is devoid of life? As if the life has been completely sucked out of it? Because it seems the mindflayer consumes and rots what it comes in contact with? Yeah, that theory is still looking pretty good to me.  But anyway, heres the REAL interesting thing. I think it seems suggested that somehow the MF is the thing thats actually giving all the psychics their powers. Or rather, that somehow all the psychic powers can be traced back to it.  
In season one, when Eleven uses her powers to kill the orderlies in a flash back she’s left exhausted but we can see her physical complexion has changed. Her skin has become pale and “veins” under her skin are visible, they’ve become darker. Similar to how we see the veins under Vecna’s skin, which is also extremely pale. Heres a pic of it to show what I mean. Its subtle, but its def there, imo. 
We’ve got a lot of canon that heavily suggests Henry got his powers from the MF, so what about Eleven? We know that Eleven’s powers were apparently artificially induced by the experimentation Terry underwent by Brenner.  NOW HERES A THING. I can’t find the article anywhere but there was a whole thing about how LSD apparently helps unlock a higher form of human consciousness, allowing the human mind and perception to connect with things we otherwise can’t normally connect with. LSD has a whole insane history directly tied to MK ultra which is also important that I might talk about at some point but for THIS POST I just want to talk about the extrasensory perception LSD was basically suppose to be able to give some folks because woo psychedelic shit. Popular with hippies, folks who would claim to be able to talk to the trees and animals and shit like that? Terry in the stranger things universe was one of Brenner’s experiments, a man who explicitly worked on MK Ultra in the Stranger things universe, y’all need to look that up actually, but anyway Brenner used drugs like LSD on Terry that apparently gave her a form of higher conciseness.  The point of me saying all this is the idea is Terry was able to connect to something “cosmic” thanks to the drugs Brenner fed her and the experiments he did, whatever Terry was able to unlock within her that allowed her to connect to whatever she connected to, it was this that gave her powers that transferred to the child she was pregnant with at the time, Eleven, with this possibly tying into into the MF if it was in fact the higher force Terry was somehow able to channel in order to have powers--- which ties into the fact that IT SEEMS canon suggests Henry got HIS powers thanks to be able to somehow connect with the MF or rather it connecting with him.  Now on top of all this we know its been HEAVILY implied Brenner knew WAY more about the upside down than he ever let on. That Brenner may have even DISCOVERED the Upside Down or something FROM the UD going as far back as when he was participating in MK ultra and decided to spend his time looking for ways to somehow get contact/access to the UD and/or what was in it. 
You know what the big goal of MK ultra was? It was to create a “mind control” drug. The US government wanted a way to mind control people. From an article on MK ultra: 
"Gottlieb wanted to create a way to seize control of people's minds, and he realized it was a two-part process," Kinzer says. "First, you had to blast away the existing mind. Second, you had to find a way to insert a new mind into that resulting void. We didn't get too far on number two, but he did a lot of work on number one."
So, you know how the mindflayer was literally named the mindflayer because it has the ability to “consume” and control the mind?  So I would say it is possible that Brenner worked out that Hawkins in particular was a place on Earth were the barrier between worlds was thin, hence the lab being there. Brenner eventually abducted Henry, because Henry was the “original psychic,” who had somehow ‘communed’ with the "the thing” that was out there, on the other side of the barrier and thus could be the key to getting access to the Upside Down and whatever it was that was in it. That, largely because of Henry, Brenner realized something out there existed and was MUCH bigger than some silly mind control drug? Entire other dimensions that may be house to incomprehensible eldritch entities? God like beings? Who could give humans powers? Which is why Brenner began his own experiments. Imo this would all seem to add up and appears very suggested by canon. I need to make a proper timeline of Brenner’s activities actually, I should work on doing that.   But yeah.. I feel like the MF is def sentient, but what level of intelligence it has is still kind of questionable. But if it is as intelligent as it seems it would have to be to start reaching out to humans like Henry, if that is in fact what the canon is suggesting, does it feel compelled to attack the human world because it felt challenged by humans first-- did it feel like humans were invading on it and taking FROM it, OR if is just malevolent and humans just made the dumb mistake of trying to meddle with what they don't understand and ended up bumping into an actual evil god that hasn’t taken too kindly to this. Just some thoughts. 
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jesuis-melodrama · 1 year
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The Aesthetics of Miraculous' Main Cast Pt. 2
Due to popular request, a second instalment based on the series' deuteragonists and tritagonists.
5. Tsurugi Kagami // Indie
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Hear me out.
First of all, like with all aesthetics, there's no concrete definition for what constitutes as 'indie', although most people have a pretty definite idea of what shouldn't be. Indie is one of the widest aesthetics out there, bordering on multiple other sub-genres connected to a mish-mash of specific architectural, cultural, and musical styles.
But for Kagami, what I constitute as "indie" for her is simply a strong attraction to independence and individuality.
I don't think there's two better words to describe Kagami, out of all Miraculous characters, even the main deuteragonist cast, Kagami stands out because she has always been a girl who gets what she wants when she wants it, at times breaking the signature Miraculous limits of being reset back to default at the end of each episode. She remembered her disdain of Adrien, and although still cares deeply for him, never forgot the wound she obtained from him either.
Unlike all the other rich kids of Miraculous, Adrien, Chloé, Félix, and even Lila to a debatable degree, Kagami has always been far stricter and more formal in manner. This is does not, however, means that she is content to conform with her situation and blend into her mother's desires for her. No, Kagami has demonstrated capabilities to be far more rebellious than even our resident rogue superhero, surprising him at instances, and her adamant dedication to her drawing hobby, despite her mother's clear verbal disapproval, cements the strength of her indie personality. Moody independent loyalty, above all else.
We've never seen Kagami wear any other outfit apart from her fencing gear, kimono, and blazer-ed school uniform, and the audience certainly isn't aware of what her room or house looks like, but I imagine Kagami would be rather casual and grunge in sartorial terms. Preferring a good pair of comfortable, worn-in sneakers which are prime for running and other physical activities, rather than heeled shoes. Soft denim, fitted t-shirts, and relaxed bomber jackets with patterns of bright orange tigers and candy-red koi fish are also on the menu.
In terms of decorating her room – perhaps something like the image I provided above, granted with a lot more red and a couple prints of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's scattered around.
6. Luka Couffaine // Grunge
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Grunge is defined by music. Having started off in the hard rock scene of Seattle, Washington, the popular grunge fashion sense – worn denim with holes at the knees, flannel, Converses, and oversized jackets – was once the uniform of preceding alternative rock bands to the likes of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and 7 Year Bitch.
There's a general idea of hopelessness infested within grunge circles. Usually young teens with little faith in their futures or the adults/world around them, left to partake in aimless activities such as attempting to start off their band from their garage-offices, or smoking marijuana in the basement of their parents' house.
But a larger, more significant portion of grunge is about counterculture, rejecting the expensive and the mainstream, the manufactured and the perfected, for what is authentically human. In musical terms, this means hand-played instruments over recorded pieces and studio voices versus autotune.
I don't think there's a better way to describe Luka other than authentic. His grunge-style outfit and characteristic dyed hair aside, his rather angsty backstory as being the secret son of a rock icon, Luka is a genuine and honest person, who has seldom lied on screen (rather difficult to do when the series circles around hiding superhero identities from romantic interests), and never shied away from saying what would be tormenting and embarrassing to another person.
Congratulations to Luka for making the first, full love confession to his love interest in Season 3. It may have been blatantly disregarded since, but Luka did it, clear words right in Marinette's face, he did not conform to his peers' habits of sneaking around and attempting to find shortcuts.
7. Félix Fathom // Preppy
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Since I've found out Félix is part-American, this aesthetic suits him far more.
There is an aspect to Félix that is Old Money, much like Adrien, semi-canon or not, apparently both boys have blue blood within them, as Emilie and Amélie are both alluded to being some form of English aristocracy. But what differentiates Preppy from Old Money, and indeed what separates Félix from Adrien, is sociability.
Félix does not suffer the serious curfews and heavily regimented household dynamic Adrien does, he's free to do what he wants, when he wants, and according to this show, that includes committing cross-country felonies with the aid of his loving mother.
Much like Old Money, Preppy is characterised by wealth, and a penchant for materialistic objects. Félix lives in a London penthouse, BTW, if anyone doubts his ability to showcase his upper-class background. Plus: his outfit. Apart from Kagami, and that appears to be a school uniform that she pairs off with sneakers, Félix shows up to nearly each scene he's in with a waist-coat, black tie, and dress shoes. Not even Papillon/Papillombre/Monarch can beat that level of suave.
What also defines Preppy, a rather negative aspect which shines it out from other luxury aesthetics, is that partakers in this particular kind of sub-culture are known for elitism, looking down on those who are financially not on their level, or destitute in etiquette.
From the moment he arrived on-screen, Félix had been plentiful with his disdain, letting it be very well know who he despises or think little of.
8. Zoé Lee // Art Hoe
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Zoé wants to be an actress. You can't get more artistic than that, and considering family dynamics, having a career goal alone places Zoé as far from the Chloé alignment as possible.
Art Hoe is an aesthetic based around nature, a love for art, and (usually) women. While the specific art form in particular is usually paintings related to the pop-art, graphic, and modern and post-modern genre, there are plenty of indie and alternative films such as the works of Andy Warhol, David Lynch, and Wong Kar-wai's, surreal, dream-like pieces which fits into the spacey, high culture requirements.
Not to mention, Zoé's outfit. From her bright turquoise beanie to sunshine-yellow jeans. Zoé's dabbles between tough masculinity with her leather jacket and quirky femininity with her blocky flower shirt. Her shoes are perhaps the most vibrant aspect of her ensemble, with quite a sombre backstory – "Yeah, I've written every nice thing that anyone's ever said to me, to keep them with me all the time." "But there's only one message!" "I only had one friend." – speaking of both her colourful personal style, but subdued persona.
I can see Zoé wearing mom jeans and painted overalls, slugging Kånken backpacks over her shoulder and donning striped Van Gogh socks.
To cap-off her Art Hoe requirements, the aesthetic focuses heavily on DIY, which Zoé proves by painting her own daily shoes.
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theuntitledblog · 1 year
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Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022) - REVIEW (SPOILER ALERT)
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SYNOPSIS
Wakanda is in mourning following the unexpected death of King T'Challa which has left Queen Ramonda and Princess Shuri with the task of leading Wakanda against the threats posed by intervening world powers. As the Wakandans strive to embrace their next chapter, a new power emerges from the Earth's ocean in the form of Namor who challenges Wakanda in ways it has never been challenged before.
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No other film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe has arrived with such a weight of genuine sadness upon it as reality and fiction merge to acknowledge onscreen the real life passing of lead star Chadwick Boseman. There wasn't really any way for Ryan Coogler to avoid it and to his credit, Wakanda Forever tackles it head on with the greatest of respects being paid. The story has to acknowledge it as well with impact of that loss reverberating throughout the whole story and particularly influencing the character work. As a sequel to 2018's Black Panther, Wakanda Forever builds upon all the successful elements of that film and attempts to elevate them further with a bigger story that touches upon modern themes and showcasing the talents of its impressive cast. Black Panther boasted one of the best ensemble cast of characters in an MCU solo project and here they equally carry the load while this particular brand of the MCU looks to reboot itself with a new lead and renewed focus. In this sense alone it is a general success but when considered as a whole, it doesn't quite match the leaness of the first film for me nor does it quite manage to fully fill the absence caused by Boseman's sad death. If nothing else however, it is a moving tribute to Chadwick Boseman and takes some interesting and welcome steps in securing his legacy in the role of T'Challa.
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Wakanda Forever doesn't immediately lean towards a new lead character; you might be able to guess going in who the successor to the Black Panther will be but throughout much of its runtime it doesn't make that clear. Given the collective popularity and strength of Letitia Wright's Shuri, Lupita Nyongo's Nakia, Danai Gurira's Okoye and even Winston Duke's M'Baku as characters, this isn't really an issue. Angela Bassett's Queen Ramonda is a particular triumph following her comparatively smaller role in Black Panther but Ryan Coogler ensures that each of the main characters have a significant role to play at different points during the rather lengthy runtime. But the burden of lead does eventually fall, as I suppose it inevitably would, to Letitia Wright who does as good a job as could be expected given that she is carrying the biggest share of the on screen weight of Boseman's death. She fully convinces as a lost and angry Shuri who is true to character by hiding behind her technology and rejecting tradition as she mourns T'Challa's death. But she still has a way to go for me to fully convince as an action star even though she isn't really given much to showcase what she can do as the Black Panther.
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As a sequel, Wakanda Forever does a lot right. Much like the first, the costume design and music is incredible and helps maintain its unique style and aesthetic within the MCU. While T'Challa's death underpins everything emotionally, his death does also have the consequence of adding a sense of vulnerability to the powerful nation of Wakanda and its main characters. There is no Black Panther following Killmonger's burning of the Heart-Shaped Flower and this weakness is only amplified by the arrival of Namor (Tenoch Huerta) and the warriors of the kingdom of Talokan. There are some hard hitting set pieces and enough character development done with Namor to ensure he is more than just your standard villain. There is also the threat posed by CIA head Valentina de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) which is another promising story strand that runs parallel to Namor as the nations of the world scavenge the planet looking for more Vibranium. However this is a story that feels like it's being held back slightly for a potential Black Panther 3 or even the Ironheart series and therefore doesn't reach full fruition. What this does do however is create some genuine threat which is not something the MCU has always been very good at so Coogler deserves credit for me again here.
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Wakanda Forever has perhaps too much going on and isn't quite able to bring everything to a head in a fully satisfying way. While the conflict with Namor is well handled, the final set piece feels beneath the film as a whole and seems like a obligation rather than an essential piece of this story. Likewise the debut of Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne) despite enjoying good chemistry with Shuri and even a few moments with Okoye, generally lacked depth as a character and the Ironheart concept felt unexplored. These aren't enough to bring down the film completely because it is a generally well crafted sequel and a character driven affair that hits strong emotional beats especially with T'Challa's death firmly at the centre. It's a funnier film despite the aura of sadness upon it, the set pieces are suitably thrilling for the most part and the characters remain the greatest asset of the Black Panther series.
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VERDICT
Black Panther: Wakanda Forever is a wonderful tribute to its late star but Ryan Coogler's story judges it perfectly with the emotional weight elevating the film in general. Led by its incredible cast, Wakanda Forever is a well crafted sequel that builds on story elements of first Black Panther to thrilling effect even if it has perhaps too much going on to satisfy fully.
4/5
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lilikags · 2 years
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why barbara is the best genshin impact character - lili
word count: 504
@dawndelion-winery
to introduce to the readers who barbara is, she is a character from mondstadt who has a hydro vision and is part of the church of favonius. she's a sweet person who loves helping people out, and she's a very caring person. she's the sister of jean as well.
now, let's talk about things one by one. let's start with her vibes. upon meeting barbara, one may think she's cheerful and cute, and that's not quite wrong. she tends to act cheerful and cute for everyone else, to become the best idol ever. she cares about her fans and the people of mondstadt a lot, and she doesn't want to worry others. however, she is also human, which is not to be forgotten, and she always pressures herself to be so. there are times when she's sad, upset, lost, and insecure, just like everyone else. but she tries to hide it, for the sake of others not to worry. she puts others first over herself. it doesn't make me feel too sorry for her, per se, it's more like i'd love to give her a hug and give her the support she needs but refuses to acknowledge. and many people haven't recognized that need, because she hides it so well. and being able to endure that is something that takes strength- barbara is a very strong character.
she also has a sister, jean gunnhildr, of the knights of favonius. she isn't close to her sister, but she has always looked up to her. to barbara, her sister is a distant dream. she even took up the sword at one time to become more like her, but this shows barbara's constant desire to improve herself. her sister is a checkpoint at which she can be happy with herself, and the desire to improve within her is already an amazing trait. of course, if overdone it can be harmful to her, but i think that it's admirable for her to want to become better, for herself and others.
on another hand, barbara is absolutely adorable. all of her movements are a bit bouncy, which i find ever so cute. the way her dress moves is so satifsying, and her skill animations are so calming and aesthetic at the same time. her voice lines are the cutest ever, in every voice over language. it shows the energy that she shows to everyone, laced with the cuteness to make her idol image. yet when she fights, it's protective; it makes it clear she wants to protect all of those close to her.
she's an idol, with a lot of hopes and dreams, to protect everyone close to her and be someone people can look up to. she makes everyone's days, including mine, and she's the star of mondstadt. she's my star in the teyvat sky, guiding me every step of the way. walking together, hand in hand, giggling at the silly things in life and working our hardest to reach that golden plate on the game of life.
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Foxtail & Wolfsbane Mood Board
Collective suggestions for story/character soundtracks, face claims, and my pre-writing imagined character aesthetics are gathered here! 
☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾
General Atmosphere & Aesthetic:
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Full Moon.
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Ferns, from Remus.
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Star-Covered Ceiling. 
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Gentle Hands Meeting Shyly over a Map.
(Gif: https://64.media.tumblr.com/e75bc5a810fef5c47ed295fb24122918/3e0ef1d158c008d3-b7/s500x750/009c04a521117ce5939403cb1ee8a62eb48b83d5.gifv.)
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Tristan Graves’ Pocketwatch.
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Severus Snape’s Wolfsbane Potion.
Soundtrack: 
Popular/Indie: 
General Story Atmosphere
Hollow Coves by the Woods
Woodland EP by Paper Kites
Technicolor Beat by Oh Wonder 
Remus Lupin & Reader’s Relationship
Cardigan by Taylor Swift 
Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer 
Midnight Moon by Oh Wonder 
All I Want by Kodaline
Orchestral:
Window to the Past (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) by John Williams
Salamander Eyes (Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald) by James Newton Howard
(Summarized, Non-Spoiler) Personal Notes I Made Up for the Characters:
Rowan Scamander:
Casually, Prefect | Ravenclaw | Sun Child 
Magizoologist | Family Legacy | Price of Fame 
Strength, In All Ways | Inherent Charisma 
Train Rides | Foxtail Charm | Strong Denials, Shy Confessions
Childhood Best Friend | First Love | Naturally, Your Second Love, Too
Freckles | Auburn Hair | Chestnut Eyes 
Always on the Hunt | Crossroads of Possibility and Definition | Search for a Self 
“Little Fox Girl” | “Nymph” | “Baby” 
Rowan Scamander was born with the strength of a thousand suns burning in his chest. People confuse his incredible charisma and flair with his family’s famous legacy, but it hardly bears any connection. Rather, Rowan burns brightly all of the time - and it allows him to conquer the world on the grandest stage, but it also betrays him in the most intimate of moments, because he can’t imagine a world in which he isn’t burning alive. 
Remus Lupin:
Marauder - Moony | Marauder’s Map Mastermind | Bashfully, Prefect
DADA Professor | Night-Day Duality | Patronus Charm 
Lycanthrope | Moon Child | Lunar Sixth Sense
Soul Mate | Patches on Clothing | Sweater Paws | Folded Socks 
Foxtail Fern | Shared Hiding Space | Unexplained Scars 
Scent of Earl Grey Tea, Favorite Books, and Chocolate | Irrationally Possessive over His Favorite Jazz Records | Doesn’t Believe in Astrology and Fairytales, But Studies Them Intently, Anyways 
The Shrieking Shack | The Whomping Willow | The Forbidden Forest 
“Lovely” | “Sweetheart” | “Darling” 
Remus is the type of student who does his homework, and then forgets to turn it in. He is always mildly confused, which means it’s a toss-up as to whether his reaction to anything will be pleasant politeness or unintended, but utter savagery. Part of his uncertainty comes from his unrelenting desire to be kind, but part of it also comes from his deep-rooted struggle with his self-worth.  
Tristan Graves:
Head of the Aurors | Reluctant Protector | Star Child 
Family Crest | Price of Prodigy | Magic of Metal  
Cloud Within the Iris | Silver Streak | Emerald Eyes 
Leather Gloves | Black Cloak | Silver Timepiece 
Hades and Persephone | Byronic Lead | Realist, Yet A Victim of Myth 
Tristan Graves carries the weight of an incredible and mysterious family legacy, as well as the burden of being a child prodigy, on his young shoulders. What differentiates him most, though, is not quite apparent to the eye, for it is not his evident genius, sharp emerald eyes, or even the single silver streak in his otherwise raven-black hair, but rather - his reluctant, yet lordly status in life as the protector of those around him. 
Severus Snape:
Potions Master | Half-Blood Prince | Legilimens
Autumnal Spirit | Decay, Death & Glory | Days Gone By
Neither Villian Nor Hero | Own Code of Morals | The Bishop of All Kings 
Intellect Over Instinct | Control & Purpose | Simplicity & Solitude  
Oak Tree Crowned with Golden Stars | Scent of Herbs - Basil & Sage | Scent of Woods - Cedar & Soft Eucalpytus
"Little One” | “Always” | “Shush.”
Severus Snape demands control over his life because everything he once banked on - bringing pride and glory to his mother and becoming impressive and charismatic to his love - all fell apart before he turned thirty. He doesn’t believe in the logics of light, but neither can he fully give himself to the dark. He lives in the in-between, catching a few flickers of fire in his dark eyes as he moves among the shadows, forever living in a grey, extinguished world. 
*Note: I left Sirius Black off this list, because I’ve planned a different Sirius-centric story for the future. 
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My companions did not know the import of my journey. Of this I can be certain, as I myself maintained ignorance of my devices. I found the document on a whim in that guilded library, without great method, armed only with aesthetic rigor. I acquired it at some cost, and they observed this, but still they did not know, could not know.
Or perhaps I attribute too much contagion to my unknowing, and it shall at some later time come to light that I alone was ignorant.
My conclusions which this text enabled are simple, and so I shall give them here, early in my own work rather than burying and hiding them like those arcanists of old. I too will explain why those sages felt such a compulsion, as their minds are open to me, blossomed like a summer flower in daylight. Each petal ready and present for easy viewing and inspection. These words are not those of a braggart, as my mind having converged and meeting with them, too is legible even from that dead past. Such is the nature of minds bent towards emulation.
But yes, conclusion:
Those conflicts and feuds which seem so irreconcilable on paper are exactly that; artifacts of perceptions flattened by that which they attend. And by training their attention upon such flat things they train (like an arborist and her topiary) their habits and expectations to inflict upon the higher dimensions those restrictions which are indeed so applicable and correct in the lower.
This is it. Conclusions presented. Payload delivered.
But being without appropriate mechanism with which to read a particular text, the input itself is illegible to the point of encryption. If a foreign lover recites their people's most beauteous truths in language with which you are not fluent, then the most you may hope to glean from it is musicality of breath. (This, in the case of lover's poem, may not be so bad. Those exquisite lips and tongue and throat are the art to be appreciated and so being absent that distraction of hope of translation may be greater than any effable gifts, but in discourse of technical (and therefore brittle) variety, such illegibility delivers to the mind at best nothing, and at much worse confident misapprehension of the shapes which once danced so brightly in author's mind).
But worry not, I do not come like an inverse thief into your home to secretly leave something upon your shelves before sneaking out again. That attitude of a marketeer is indeed loathsome to me and I should like to perpetrate it minimally, or better perpetrate it not at all.
Some readers, those who have mulched their gardens with decayed leaves, soot, and kitchen scraps, those which have suckled on that oversweet milk of poetry, or worn their teeth into plateaus on the sands of numeracy, they may by mere chance have within their dreams and waking life a soil tweaked and fiddled to the balances of moisture and dryness, light and shade, acidity and baseness as to elicit this particular germ, this seed of idea, to grow into the sort of plant which grows even now within this author.
But be warned, this plant is more similar in character and attribute to a lichen than a tree or a vine. A chimera of relationships, some of love and some of violence. As such it is isomorphic in the extreme, and many forms take on many forms. Life is not evidence of success.
No, that is untrue but I lack the words to describe my truth as well as my falseness.
As such I should and do encourage you, reader, if you come to hold me in any esteem also accompany me with my opposite in your mind. For every angel produce a demon such that the two might, should war visit their border, cancel one another in import and in strength.
On the other hand, should you see me as a demon from the start I shall not encourage you to bestow upon your imaginings an angel on my account, but at least provide my demon a master, a greater demon loyal to only you.
Reader, I have already burdened you with much, and rudely I must now take my leave to attend the duties of my employment before making any attempt to lighten that load. I make promises not idly, but offer one in this case. The chapter which follows will be more personal and embodied in that manner more digestible and familiar to my fellow embodied persons. We strange kin of eating and drinking, of itching and squinting in sunlight.
Of course, with each step out of abstraction to touch on the love of my fellows, I risk obscuring myself from those who have been occluded from such experience. In evoking the golden light of our home star of Sol rather than merely its warmth, I cut at affinity with those who might be described as blind.
But yes, my duties bid.
Until next.
-Dashu
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ophiebot · 3 years
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OH MY GOD. GREEN KNIGHT AU. PLEASE TELL ME MORE
*cracks knuckles* I saw the movie like two days ago and I couldn't get the aesthetics out of my head. It was really immersive and surreal and ooooo I'm a sucker for chainmail and quests.
I haven't exactly laid out the proper framework for it yet but the gist so far is that MC (which in my case is a tired and timid non-binary 20 something with a mullet) is a soon to be knight with a strong enough relation to the king to be in consideration for the throne. The king in this au being Asgore. I tend to see him as a somewhat morally grey character; well-intentioned but often misguided in his attempts to do what he thinks is best for his people. He acts as somewhat of a mentor to MC and has raised them (distantly) since their parents died when they were young. Sans is an on again off again member of the court who has been maintaining a casual relationship with MC while harboring more intense feelings for them. However, he's the number one enabler of their ... indulgent side. Be that laying around all day, sleeping in, or messing around.
During a ceremonial gathering of the court for some celebration or other a hulking stranger crashes the party on horseback and asks if any member of the table would play a game with him...
To step forward and strike him with his own axe under the condition that they meet him again one year later to receive a blow in return.
Under silence from his court, Asgore steps up to meet the challenge, only to have MC offer their own hand in the game to protect him.
The stranger, clad in armor made of bark that is only just visible under the massive cloak hiding most of his form, dismounts. His feet land heavily on the stone ground, echoing. A piercing light from the shadow of his hood illuminates what they think is a skull underneath. It falls on them, scrutinizing their form.
The way they shake.
The huge axe set over his shoulder is lowered. The hilt is placed on the ground with a reverberation that betrays its weight.
His other arm reaches up and pulls back the hood to reveal...a skull...and a gnarl of roots twisting over half of his entire face like a parasite. Some inching across and into the eye socket that isn't covered.
He smiles down at them, looking content and pleased. His teeth are huge and sharp. Menacing and stark and frightening against the soft expression he offers them. They swallow thickly, eyes darting away briefly as they are unsure of what to do with the sudden attention. They briefly catch sight of Sans sitting across the way, watching them wide-eyed and paler than they imagined a skeleton could even get. He looks like he might jump across the table now just to stop them.
The sound of a heavy footstep brings them back to the situation at hand. He's come only a step closer, and is holding out the axe like an offering, though they're unsure they'd even be able to keep the thing upright let alone strike him with it-
He stares at them pointedly and doesn't move an inch. They think fleetingly that he could so easily be mistaken for a statue. Some monster of myth forever captured in stone....er, wood? But the light in his socket is very much alive, they have to blink once just to focus again. Their eyes fall to the axe. 
Do they just...take it? He remains unmoving as they reach a hand out....as they take it from him easily. Have they found some miraculous strength or is the thing really just light enough for them to lift with only little effort? It doesn't seem to matter either way. He looks pleased.
The thing they hadn't been expecting was for the giant of a knight to kneel before them. He doesn't break his gaze from them once, pushing his cloak out behind himself. They're only a couple inches taller than him now...even after he's lowered down to the ground.
Then comes his voice. Like thunder....or like the creaking of a thousand year old tree in the wind before a storm.
“take your aim, little knight.”
Their eyes widen considerably, stumbling back a pace and barely catching themselves as they rock back with the weight of the axe. They tremble. They hesitate “...You...you must fight me for it, surely?” They say carefully, tensing in their stance in case he does decide to rise again and attack them. He blinks at them, a shadow of the grin from before returning as his eye sockets lid halfway. He gives no response. This only flusters them further, unsure of what to do. Their face screws up in mild frustration.  
“What are you doing? Rise and face me.” Again he doesn’t speak.... instead he tilts his head down and to the side to expose his neck to them. “strike.”
They stare down at him blankly. They could feel eyes on them from every corner of the room, baring down at them at every angle. No one breathed a word as the exchange took place. They stood, adjusting and fidgeting with their grip on the handle of his massive weapon. This....it didn’t feel like honor. What kind of challenge was this? To kill a man on his knees...did it have to do with courage? Proving they had any stomach for killing at all? They take one final desperate look around the room. 
They look to Asgore, who is watching with a hard expression on his face.
His gaze meets theirs steadily, and it feels like an eternity as he nods.  Their attention is pulled back to the prone monster on his knees.  “fine, then. have it your way” They lift the axe above their head. They aren’t sure where to aim, its like white is searing their vision. Maybe an arm...just a cut on the cheek...
They cry out as they swing the weapon down and it seeks its true target. 
The monsters skull is lopped clean off, with nothing but the sound of the blade cutting air and a splattering of blood. It thuds to the ground and rolls a short distance away. They stand there panting heavily, gripping tight to the handle of the axe. The room is silent save for their breathing. They see white, hot and humid. They can smell the sharp of iron in the air...fresh. Another eternity passes til a sound is made again....the monsters body which had slumped to the ground lifeless...began to push itself up again. it slowly stands once more, and has no trouble finding its head and bending to pick it up. They cant move as they watch him. Rooted to the spot in some mix of bewilderment and horror. He turns to them, head held to his chest now. 
That eye socket blinks, the light inside flickering back to life bright as ever.
He looks them over for a moment before grinning. The head laughs, deep and rolling....like the very earth shaking. He seems far too happy with the turn of events. “...one...year...hence.”
With a blink he’s gone, along with his horse. Only his fading laugh echoing through the hall. His blood smeared across the floor...and his axe....still clutched tight within their grip.
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cancerjupiter · 4 years
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astrology notes: moon’s origins edition (pt. 2)
moon in libra
libra moons crave the idealized experience of beauty and peace; you seek to co-operate with others, to please, and to establish one-to-one relationships which are mutually gratifying. you also find satisfaction in using your minds, particularly your power of objectivity. a parent who valued you highly and enjoyed pleasing you; who encouraged your aesthetic and intellectual development, and who was willing and able to appreciate your points of view, may have helped you to become attuned to the positive dimensions of a libra moon. 
if, however, your moon is in difficult aspect, or if its trines or sextiles suggest a parent who was only superficially available to you, you may attempt to gain from a partner what you could never experience from our parents. you may become overly dependent upon others, seeking to win their favor by being indispensable and satisfying their every desire. you 're also inclined to avoid confronting our anger and pain, suppressing emotions because you fear any threat to your relationships which might force you to acknowledge your aloneness. these patterns were probably by a parent figure who placed too much emphasis upon appearance or surface harmony, who could not tolerate discord, or who led you to believe that relationship equals subordinating oneself to another. such a mother or father may have brought many unfulfilled needs into parenting, expecting you to compensate for deficiencies he or she experienced in childhood or marriage. 
although your libra moons suggest that your emotional fulfillment requires mutually significant relationships with others, you can only build satisfying connections by first developing a secure relationship with yourselves, accepting as valid your own feelings and needs, and being willing to assert yourselves, even when it means experiencing temporary discord for the sake of more authentic contact. you need to apply your openmindedness and capacity to identify with many points of view in relation to both yourselves, and others - to listen to and affirm each of your internal needs, willingly entering disharmony and imbalance when necessary to create a more enduring harmony and balance which is so vital to you. you need to honor your libran need for beauty and peace, creating environments and relationships which truly soothe and uplift you. 
moon in scorpio
this moon shows you value your privacy; you are capable of considerable emotional intensity and passion; and you need to probe beneath the surface of experience to truly connect with something. when your feelings are denied or your needs unmet, you may easily resort to detrimental scorpio behavior patterns - obsessions with sexuality or money, expressions of revenge or destruction, or demanding and manipulative behaviors. one of the difficulties of a scorpio moon is related to the fear of losing control or surrendering. because of this fear, you may deny or conceal the softer, vulnerable facets of yourselves, preventing yourselves from experiencing the genuine connection you seek. 
you may have internalized messages from your parents which enabled you to develop resourcefulness, endurance and strength of character, and the power to plumb the depths of experience. your sexuality may have been awakened early through the intensity of friendly or family interactions (this doesn’t mean abuse; but sex was one outlet your intense feelings found to let themselves go), so you were forced to come to terms with your own life and death force. a scorpionic parent, however, may have negatively influenced your ability to receive nurturance and to nourish yourselves. perhaps such a parent was hostile and disciplinary, so you developed considerable mistrust and learned to hide your feelings. they may have been dominating, intrusive or sexually provocative, leading you to fear being possessed or overpowered. coldness or stoicism, as manifested in a 'be tough' attitude, may have prevented your internal child from receiving the tenderness and care you needed. sometimes a scorpio moon suggests the premature death of a parent, or a premature confrontation with realities of death or violence. 
you have the power to re-parent yourselves by recovering, accepting and expressing your feelings and emotional needs, not just your sexual desires. you need to contact your core, to possess yourselves rather than others, and to learn how to channel your passion constructively. one task of your scorpionic moon is that of discovering your inner power and drawing upon your own capacities to meet your needs rather than manipulating others to give you what you are unable or unwilling to give yourselves.
moon in sagittarius
if you have a sagittarian moon, you need to be free to expand your boundaries - to discover and actualize possibilities, to travel, and / or to develop your own understanding of things. you have a generous heart and seek to give from your own bounty; you also seek to rise above your difficulties through humor and friendship.
when your real needs aren’t met, or when you come into contact with feelings or desires which threaten you, you may express your sagittarian nature in a defensive or twisted manner - procrastinating or avoiding immediate issues by focusing upon the future, abstract realms or escapism (daydreaming); becoming preoccupied with ideals or goals rather than current tasks; intellectualizing or philosophizing incessantly; joking inappropriately; or moving restlessly from activity to activity or person to person on an endless quest both to escape from responsibility and to fulfill your inner emptiness.
most probably, your mother or significant parent figure provided you with a constructive philosophical framework by which to view life, and imbued you with a love of both internal and external exploration. but such a parent may have been fearful of emotional closeness and taken refuge in themselves rather than responding to your actual needs or feelings or to the difficulties or burdens you experienced. they may have indulged you rather than given you real nourishment. they may have preached rather than gently taught, issuing 'shoulds' or religious principles which may don’t keep up with your own nature and development.
those with moon in sag may need to reparent yourselves by creating your own philosophy and morality apart from your parents and by using your philosophy to help you come to terms with rather than suppress your feelings and needs. your tasks may also include learning to give to yourselves and others, developing the internal freedom capable of existing within limitations and commitments, and discovering and maintaining contact with the god you believe in (if you do), the universe within or whichever internal guiding spirit which leads and inspires you.
moon in capricorn
those of you with a capricorn moon (me!) need the security of organization and structure, and the satisfaction of maintaining commitments and achieving your aims. you take pride in your work and want recognition for your accomplishments. capricorn is the position of the moon's detriment (i know. i know.) and is therefore a particularly difficult position for experiencing emotional nourishment and developing self-nurturing behaviors. when feelings and needs emerge, you may not even allow them fully to enter your consciousness. you may be too afraid of your vulnerability or weakness, and too judgemental of your inner child. repression of the deeper facets of yourselves may lead you to wallow in depression, negativity or self-criticism, to work incessantly, or to isolate yourselves from fulfilling connections with other people. you may continually give ourselves 'be tough' messages which support your self-sufficiency but prevent the real connection with your feelings which makes close relationships possible. 
it is most likely that a parental figure helped you to learn to control your emotions, take responsibility for yourselves and make adult rather than childish decisions; and also provided the consistency and safety you needed to feel secure. however, having a capricorn moon suggests that you could never give free rein to your feelings, and that you probably did not receive much tender nurturance (i did, but it was from another parent; mixed messages can make your feelings even more blurry). your parent may have been cold and rejecting; they may have neglected you or told that your feelings and needs had little value. perhaps they were also a perfectionist you could not satisfy, and whose acceptance was conditional upon notable achievement and success. as a result, you may feel a sense of worth only for what you accomplish, but not for who you are. 
moons in capricorn, you need to create their own standards for yourselves apart from your parents' standards, and to give up compensatory striving which does not meet our genuine needs. your task involves developing an internal source of security and giving yourselves the validation and recognition you may have originally sought from others. you may only experience the fulfillment you seek when, by accepting your feelings and needs and allowing yourselves to be vulnerable, you discover strength and self-sufficiency which embraces rather than denies the sensitivity of your inner child.    
moon in aquarius
your aquarian moon shows that you need to experience and express your individuality, to be free to interact with a wide range of people, and to use your intuitive, inventive and abstract mental capacities, and to contribute meaningfully to society. the energies of aquarius do not mesh easily with the cancerian moon principle. you may have difficulty acknowledging and validating your desires and feelings, and fear closeness and intimacy. when threatened by emerging emotions or needs, you may rationalize or intellectualize, may rebel or loudly proclaim your self-sufficiency, or may become overly preoccupied with meaningless shit. sometimes, moon in aquarius may lead you to make sudden abrupt changes in our lives to overcome the internal suffocation of too much closeness or intimacy with another person and / or lifestyle. cultivating a network of friends, and dedicating yourselves to a cause in which you believe, may fulfill you, but may also be a compensation for unmet personal needs. 
it is most likely that a parent encouraged your aquarian qualities. they may have been intellectual, humanitarian and individualistic, and supported these traits in yourselves. you learned to take pride in your uniqueness and originality, and in your social and mental skills. however, such a parent may also have been emotionally detached or cold, and unable to nurture you physically or emotionally, while remaining responsive to large groups of people and social involvements which were less restrictive and emotionally demanding than ties to you. one or both of your parents may have been erratic when relating to you, so you could not develop trust in stable relationships, and learned at an early age to defend against intimacy. 
you who have aquarian moons need to experience and value your own uniqueness, while simultaneously creating for yourselves your own society of intimates, one in which your emotional needs are respected and met rather than suppressed. you need to develop and trust your intuition, and to use your minds to help you understand your feelings and discover how to meet your needs, rather than escape from them. other tasks of your moon involve cultivating the internal freedom which results from full openness to your emotional natures and learning to be your own friend rather than submerging ourselves in social interactions because of your discomfort with yourselves. you can only have yourself.
moon in pisces
having this placement means that you need space in your lives to drift and to dream, relationships based upon empathic bonds, and openness to sources of inspiration inside and outside yourselves. the water energy of the moon is easily expressed, and sometimes overly emphasized, by a pisces moon. when you experience your feelings and needs, you may even indulge them through long bouts of crying, self-pity, or elicitations of sympathy from other people. with or without awareness, you may seek to escape from yourselves through fantasy or idealization, or through such addictions as alcohol or drugs. many of you with pisces moons may vicariously experience your feelings and satisfy your needs by continually focusing upon the feelings and needs of others and devoting ourselves to their welfare. 
a parent who was a piscean influence most probably responded sensitively and compassionately to you and encouraged your inspirational temperament. however, if your Moon is afflicted, such a parent may also have had a detrimental influence upon you. they may have overindulged you, catering to your aches and pains, or too frequently played the victim, giving to you wholeheartedly but also invoking guilt or seeking complete dedication in return. they may have been hypochondriacal, or of an ethereal nature which could not easily come to terms with physical reality. a piscean parent may have been victim to their own addictions, or tangled in dreams or fantasies and not fully emotionally or physically present. 
moon in pisces may need to learn how to respond constructively to your own feelings and needs, to serve yourselves and give to yourselves rather than attempt to lose yourselves in others. often, because you suffer from a spiritual discontent, you may have difficulty accepting and adapting to the realities of an earthly existence; you need to translate your visions into action, to live those dreams which are viable, forging a link between your practical and spiritual or creative natures. you may seek to experience oneness in close relationships, but you are not likely to know wholly that oneness unless you cultivate your attunement to your own creative and / or spiritual source, and open your hearts to the fullness of both the love and the pain within you.    
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lavendertales · 3 years
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La tortura (Javier Peña x f!reader)
Part 15 of Lay It On Me series
summary: when you, Steve and Javier are invited to the parliament to be thanked for your service against Escobar, the night culminates in a highly tensed moment.
word count: 5.1k
WARNINGS: some mentions of harm and death. hella mutual pining and tension.
AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
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gif: @henryscavills 
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You tossed between reality and sleep for a long time before the morning came.
Last night’s events creeped up on you and they hit you like an ax in the head, numbing your entire body and making it like putty under the blanket. You turned to the other side, to no surprise finding it empty. Exhausted and still in shock, you found an ounce of strength, residual-like within, and got out of bed, trying to focus on your breaths instead.
You shivered and flinched involuntarily when a warm breeze hit your arms and neck. You instantly recalled Escobar’s harsh grip over your neck, the way he forced you to watch Horacio getting shot, bullet after bullet, despite the fact that life had already left his body by the second bullet. You also recalled Steve not hesitating twice in shooting Escobar, rushing to your side just to be there for you and have his arm around you.
You must’ve replayed the scene about ten times until you finally walked out of the bedroom, feet back on earth and the harsh reality finally kicking in once again.
You thought you smelled eggs and bacon, reason why you frowned as you walked straight into the kitchen. You froze in the doorway the moment you were met with the most improbable sight you could have ever imagined.
Javier laid out the table for the both of you, it seemed: he set the plates and the cutlery, and he was preparing scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. You made no sound as you watched the scene unfold in silence. Honestly, if someone would’ve told you a year ago that was something he was capable of doing for someone he claimed he hated, you would’ve laughed. But now, watching him engage in of the simplest tasks, in the most domestic aesthetic possible, it made it all the more endearing and touching.
“You’re still here.”
You were astounded, and your voice did nothing to hide that.
“Hungry?”
His tone was coaxing and soft as he dumped the scrambled eggs on the plates, not making any sort of eye contact. It was not new; ever since you told him you were leaving, he had been seemingly avoiding looking at you like the plague.
You were leaving.
Escobar was dead. The Medellin cartel was gone.
But there was another one on the loose, much more dangerous in many ways. And yet… you had to go.
The sooner, the better.
Better for whom though?
You simply sat down, not feeling ready to have any full conversation, regardless of whom your interlocutor might’ve been. And Javier did not mind it; he found comfort in the quiet, lonesome mornings that constituted his hectic life, and that one was no exception. Both of you ate in silence, the only sound being the forks and the knives against the plates. 
“You’ve got a letter in the mail, by the way,” Javier said, focused on the content before him. “From the president.”
You looked at him as he devoured the breakfast, glancing at the coffee table in the living room, noticing, indeed, an envelope on it. You immediately went to open it, heart in your throat.
Estimada señorita Y/L/N,
Para agradecerle en nombre de Colombia por su dedicación a la DEA y todo el arduo trabajo que ha demostrado, me gustaría invitarles a ustedes, a Steve Murphy y a Javier Peña este sábado, a las 8 de la tarde, a cenar en el parlamento.
Encontrarán la dirección más abajo.
Saludos cordiales,
César Gaviria
 (Dear Ms. Y/L/N,
To thank you on behalf of Colombia for your devotion to the DEA and for all of the hard, restless work you have proved, I would like to invite you, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña this Saturday at 8 pm, for dinner at the parliament. 
You will find the address below. 
Warmest regards, 
César Gaviria)
You read the invitation three times. It was signed, undoubtedly, by the president himself. You were stunned. It was the highest honor you could think of, and it made you very nervous to think about it, especially being there with Steve and Javier.
“So?”
He finished eating, and now he was at the sink, cleaning the plate, back turned towards you. If this would’ve happened last year, you would’ve gotten mad perhaps, but now you undoubtedly understand it. You felt for him, you felt what he was feeling… you always felt everything he that felt and did.
“We, uh—we’re invited to the parliament tomorrow night for dinner.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“I think it is. Eight o’clock.”
Javier again said nothing as he sipped from his coffee. He seemed immersed into the cup, and you didn’t bother questioning it or saying anything with regards to that.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, seeming more distant than you would’ve thought.
“I—I don’t know, honestly.”
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead, his eyes landed on your neck. He approached you and his fingers curled into a fist the second they were at your collarbone.
“What happened here?”
Your own fingers sneaked around to inspect your neck, not feeling anything peculiar. But Javier’s glare stated otherwise. You rushed to the mirror in the hall, noticing the somewhat thick purple lines. And then you remembered again.
“Escobar. He—he tried to choke me.”
The response seemed as if it had a tormenting effect on Javier: he instantly frowned, moving closer to you and simply looking at your shoulders and at your bare arms, the mental visualization of Escobar laying his filthy hands on you to suffocate you revolting him to a boiling degree.
But he said and did nothing to betray how he felt. After all, Escobar was dead.
He did spend the rest of the morning with you, cleaning the dishes and just hearing you breathe in and out, as if that was a surefire indicator that you were safe and sound, as much as you could be. When he felt the timing was right, he casually made his way out of your apartment, only saying to you a cordial “See you tomorrow at eight”.
And you didn’t fight it. You didn’t question it, you didn’t overthink it. You understood him, you felt for him and for yourself.
You were leaving. It would all be over soon.
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The anxiety you had from the moment you stepped out of the taxi was surreal. You took a few deep breaths as you walked carefully to the entrance of the parliament, staring down at every step so you wouldn’t trip.
You knew you probably shouldn’t have done that. It was risky, but the dinner was a black tie event, given that it was on presidential premises. But you had to admit, you loved the way the fabric embraced your body. It was perfect in every way: comfortable, stylish…
Gorgeous.
He had been right. It was a gorgeous dress. And you nearly hated him and yourself for how well it fit you, how much you loved the feeling it provided, and not simply in the physical sense. It was familiar and safe, especially assorted with the necklace and earrings that Steve and Claudia offered to you, and the makeup that you spent applying, lipstick and all. Since it was a prestigious honor, you might as well go all in.
You took a moment to appreciate the architecture of the place. Numerous paintings were hanged on the walls, some more famous and some not, but they provided the place with a much more distinguished aesthetic, which was probably their intended usage anyway. You simply stood in the hallway for a while, admiring the paintings, the intricate details of the ceiling, the granite on the floor and everything else.
Suddenly you dreaded going further into the building. You didn’t really want to face anyone present there, and especially not Javier or Claudia. You felt an inexplicable sense of guilt at the thought that this would be one of your final nights in Colombia. And then you reckoned that Javier had it right all along: the less, the better. Of course he wouldn’t bother looking at you. It made it so much easier.
So you planned to do the same. You just had to get through dinner with a big smile on your face as it was usually expected of you and then you’d be free.
A large man opened a door for you to what you assumed was the dining room. Everyone else seemed to be present at the long table in the middle, and you stepped inside, wearing a radiant and earnest smile. You didn’t hear it, but you caught even Steve’s attention with that silky, long dress, earning a smitten “Wow” from his side.
“Miss Y/L/N, thank you for joining us,” Gaviria stood up to welcome you.
You walked towards him, barely noticing the glances thrown at you from the table. Claudia and Steve were sitting opposite to Gaviria’s side, which left seats for a mysterious man and Javier on the other. Once you were welcomed by Gaviria, you took your seat next to Steve, and right in front of Javier.
And he was staring at you like a hungry wolf, perplexed and shook.
You’d never been on the receiving end of such a look from him. He seemed completely fazed, utterly stunned as he stared at you, mouth half ajar and eyes wide, stuck to your figure. You knew why he was staring, of course. It was no mystery.
You were wearing the red dress he had given you.
Many were the times he imagined you wearing that dress, having you close to him, yanking said dress off of you or fucking you while you wore it, your legs over his shoulder as he thrust inside you. And for the most part, it helped him get off, but it was nowhere near enough.
It was never enough.
You were nowhere near enough. Not in that arrangement.
“You look incredible,” Steve whispered to you with a little smile.
“Thanks,” you smiled sincerely at him.
“This is Colonel Hugo Martinez,” Gaviria introduced the man. “He will be working closely with you in Cali.”
Said Hugo Martinez nodded respectfully and stoic to everyone present, including to a disordered you.
“After the tragic demise of Horacio Carrillo, we thought Hugo would be the man to lead the Cali operation alongside you three,” Gaviria added.
“Us three?” you couldn’t help but ask.
Steve looked just as dumbfounded. A round of drinks came, and whilst you had red wine poured before you, your eyes caught Javier’s still staring at you, making no attempt to conceal it or disguise it as something else. It was as if he was trying to make up for the time he couldn’t even bear to be in the same room with you and now, seeing you all dolled up, the outrageous effect it had on him was stronger than any spell, any bond he’d ever known or dared dream of.
“As part of thanking you for all of your hard work, I have been taking with Claudia and we both agreed that the three of you are the best ones to take care of the Cali cartel. Right in the heart of the operation, in Cali.”
You couldn’t snap out of it. In between those news and Javier’s eyes relentlessly on you, you had to take a big sip of the red wine before speaking.
“I’m afraid I don’t really follow,” you said with a nervous chuckle.
“I meant to tell you earlier, but with everything that happened…” Claudia began.
You turned to her, brows furrowed and face revealing some sort of displeasure that even you weren’t aware of.
“Your application for a transfer is gone,” she said, confusing you even more. “There are many documents which are missing, including your transfer. Now, you can apply for a new one if you’d like to, but the truth is, the process of transferring you, Murphy and Peña to Cali is complete and it would take months before having this one go through.”
You were so stunned, you had no idea what to reply. Instead, you finished your red wine, unapologetically so, and you were relieved to see the glass immediately refilled.
You had the feeling you would be needing more red wine tonight.
Again you locked eyes with Javier, unintentionally, and it made you feel like you were being burned alive. You haven’t properly seen him in months, and now, so close to you, yet so distant and unattainable, it aided you in no way. It made your skin crawl with excitement and pleasure, causing your hands to shake at the absence of his fingers intertwined with yours.
Gesture which you never did with him in the first place.
“That’s great, you don’t have to leave!” Steve exclaimed.
You stared at him, clearly having mixed feelings, a flustered and disoriented look legible on your face.
“Look, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I couldn’t wait to see you gone because you know I want you to stay. You know that I want you here with us.”
“I do.”
You gradually warmed up and eventually accepted the offer, feeling crushed and reassured at the same time. The previous weight on your chest got enlarged, feeling like a boulder pressing down on your lungs, restricting your airways.
And Javier only complicated things.
He was silent throughout the first part of the discussion where Claudia and Hugo gave you all the information you needed regarding your upcoming move to Cali. He quietly listened and observed, more often than not locking eyes with you purposefully, his glare scorching through you, hotter than lava.
When the conversation stirred onto paying respects to Horacio and Trujillo, you felt a shiver down your spine, recalling the events leading to both their demise. You were more than glad that the makeup you applied for nearly an hour prior to your arrival, covering up the marks on your neck. Javier seemed to be glancing that direction as well once in a while, eyes fugitively leaving you the moment you stared back at him. For the first time, you couldn’t tell at all what he was feeling or thinking. He remained much too quiet and much too impassible to be read properly, so you didn’t try to.
“Poor Juliana,” Claudia commented after a while, clearly distressed. “When I had to give her the news, she was… more than devastated. It was just terrible.”
“You had to tell someone that the love of their life died, shot by his worst enemy no less, ma’am,” Hugo interfered. “There is no good way to say it.”
“There really isn’t,” Steve fortified. “It’s crushing all the same.”
“Sometimes when it’s too intense, it’s best to just leave it unspoken.”
Claudia silently nodded before continuing to talk; your eyes intercepted Javier’s in an instant, cutting all the air supply to your lungs. You immediately turned towards Steve, who seemed lost in the moment.
But Javier’s eyes were seemingly glued to your figure, stealing the most intense glances that you’d ever seen him take. The air became constricting to your airway, seemingly cutting out your circulation altogether. It was tough as it was already, but to sit there in front of Javier, forcing yourself to not notice any of that was the sweetest and cruelest form of torture you had ever had the misfortune to experience.
You took a sip of your wine, but it wasn’t enough. Suddenly even the dress was compressing you, the straps confining your chest. Unknowingly, you chugged down the rest of the wine, right under Claudia and Steve’s searching looks, and you were eased when the waiter filled your glass again. You did the mistake of glancing in front of you again, noticing once more Javier’s darkened look, his lustful way of staring at you, and a breath got stuck in your throat.
“Excuse me, I need some—air,” you managed to get out, rising from your seat and grabbing the hem of your dress to prevent you from tripping over it.
A husky voice called after you. You didn’t turn around; you knew it was Javier who was calling out to you. Regardless of how much you wanted or how much you craved and needed to see his face, you powered through. You kept walking.
“Go back to dinner,” you said, only hearing the sound of your heels kicking on the marble floor.
He didn’t listen to you, just like he almost never did. He walked behind you, rushing slightly when you did, eager to catch up with you. You couldn’t see his face, the torment on it, the inner struggle and the desire to know whether or not you were okay. When he caught up with you in one of the empty study rooms, he grabbed your wrist, but immediately you pulled away.
He said your name again, more decisive, and it tore something inside you.
“Just stop—stop saying that!”
You froze, your back against him.
“Your name?” he asked.
“Yes, my name! Stop saying it, stop looking at me, stop… all of this!”
Javier was stunned. He never saw you break down or show any moment of weakness. It was a rare so sight that no wonder several colleagues had nicknamed you the Ice Queen. And to see you so riled up and restless, it was awakening something in him that even he himself could not pinpoint. It hurt him tremendously knowing that this is what he was doing to you.
“What’s going on?”
You chuckled against your will, against your better judgement, and you refused to conceal it or shove it down inside of you as you normally would.
You’ve had enough of games and sneaking around and playing pretend when you were both perfectly aware of the situation, of the circumstances and all of the torment that came with it. You’ve had enough of all of that talk that led nowhere.
“I can’t… breathe. I can’t breathe. I just can’t—”
You ran your fingers through your hair, huffing and puffing, trying to calm yourself down, but it was devouring you completely.
“What’s the matter?”
His hand was resting on your waist now, barely touching the fabric, but it did not matter.
It had the same effect on you.
“Stop acting like you don’t know, like you’re not doing it on purpose!” you snapped, finally shifting to meet with his stunned face, his body stiff as he watched you go off. “Yesterday, you couldn’t even look at me! You refused to do the simplest of human tasks! For… weeks, you couldn’t bear to be in the same room with me, let alone look at me! And now… now you’re staring at me like I’m some… expensive painting or some shit and I can’t—I can’t deal with that right now! And that’s not who you are! That’s not who either one of us is!”
And just like that, Javier snapped as well.
“Did it occur to you that maybe it’s involuntary? That there’s a reason why I can’t stop looking at you?”
“Why didn’t you look at me? After Trujillo died, you did everything possible to not look at me, to disapprove of my mere existence. Why?”
Javier gulped. Guilt and shame came for him again, consuming him ruthlessly.
“Because if I don’t look at you… then I don’t see the pain in your eyes. The disappointment, the anger or the beauty. Because that way… I don’t feel… things. And that way… my mind isn’t trying to memorize every detail of your face like it’s the last thing I’ll ever see.”
You softened under his words, despite that being the absolute last thing you desired.
“Look at me,” you ordered him, plain and simple. “I want you… to look at me. I want you to see everything that I feel. All of me. I want you to see that you’re the one who did this to me.”
“Did what?”
“Everything. The one who breaks me, who angers me more than I can fathom, the one who ruins me in every possible way you can think of. But what fucking reason could you possibly have for doing this right here, since the very moment we sat down at that table?”
“I did it long before that.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Because you didn’t see it. Just like you didn’t hear me when I said—”
“Stop.”
Javier moved closer to you, both hands on your waist, taking in your figure completely and this time, allowing it to burn through him like the most powerful flame ever known to mankind.
“What did I tell you? Say it like you mean it.”
You gulped, the rationality in your brain jumping out the window for one slow, torturous moment.
“Why won’t you admit to it?” you couldn’t help but ask.
It was evident that the question dumbfounded Javier; he stared at you with consternation, as if trying to make up some excuse to not answer it, but he only remained silent.
“You and I both know that this is gonna end in pain either way,” was the response he delivered.
“So then at least… do what you did before, and ignore me. Pretend I don’t exist, stop looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world because – “
“Maybe you are! Maybe… you are, okay? And… maybe I am. Maybe I… want to be. Maybe I want to be the guy who calls you gorgeous and looks at you like you are the most precious thing in the world because… I give a shit about you. I care about you, I… fuck, you—you distract me.”
“How? I didn’t say any—”
“By… wearing that, looking like that! It’s enough to just… be yourself and I’m… gone.”
“What the—this is the dress you gave me. You gave me this for my birthday, remember?”
“Yes, I do! And you couldn’t wear anything else tonight?! The way you… look in it, that’s—that’s your fault!”
“What the hell is that even—”
“You fucking own me!! When will you get it?? Everything is about you! Open your fucking eyes! You own me, you… control me, completely and irrevocably! Everything I do, it’s—it’s because of you, for you!”
“What are you talking about?!”
There it was. The anger, the tension, all of it crammed into a single moment when you finally didn’t have to pretend anything.
It was just you and him, raw, out in the open.
“Murphy, Vanessa, both those times… the whole thing… it was fun, it was hot, but I don’t care. I didn’t care then and I don’t care now. But you did. You wanted it, you needed it, and I did it. I had to stay. I couldn’t say no.”
“Yes, you could have! Don’t say that. At any given point, you could’ve – “
“I cannot deny you. I just can’t. I gave you that because you wanted it.”
“There’s one thing I want that you seem to fail to give to me.”
“And vice versa.”
Quiet.
“I—I can’t—”
“I know that.”
“Can you? Can you say it?”
Quiet again. You only heard your breaths and his, just as ragged and irregular, and it was tearing your apart.
“You have to understand that I… am tired. Hating you is… exhausting. And I don’t wanna do it anymore. I can’t keep pretending to have moments where we don’t hate each other, or keep pretending that I actively hate you… when I don’t. I really don’t anymore. I don’t even know if I did to begin with. I think… I’d like to be with someone who truly wants me.”
“You said you don’t… date.”
“Maybe I want to give it a shot. Maybe it’s time, and maybe… I want someone who lets me know that they choose me. Someone who does choose me and proves that to me.”
“I—I do care about you, I – “
“It’s not good enough, Javier,” you shake your head. “It’s not enough.”
“You know this is all that I can give to you, to anyone. You—you know that.”
His breaths were shaky and unstable as he stood inches apart from you. You suddenly thought back to Steve and his sweet words, whether drunk or not, how he offered to date you, how he opened up to you and told you that you were indeed an option to him.
“I do. I do know,” you admitted. “So, because of that… will you do what you’ve been doing for the past two months and just stop… looking at me?”
“I’m not sure that I can… the dress is—”
“Do you want me to take it off?”
He did not expect that proposal, and truthfully, neither did you. But you didn’t take it back. You didn’t correct yourself, you didn’t do anything to prove the contrary, and it derailed Javier’s thoughts severely.
“Fuck—“he muttered. “Yes.”
He stared at the way the dress was fitting you and he gulped, suddenly feeling more than parched and beyond hard.
“Please, I—no, wait,” he realized your location and gasped. “N-No, not—not in here. We can’t—”
“Javier.”
He had these damned puppy eyes again and you just weren’t sure whether it was solely that which set you off or a mixture of his cologne, the feeling of his knuckles brushing up against your spine and his fingers intertwining with yours for the first time ever, or all of him, but you didn’t really have control over yourself anymore.
He didn’t wait for you to say anything, not that you were going to, either. His lips found yours with ease, engaging into one of the greediest, deepest and bizarrely sensual kisses you’ve ever had in your life. His tongue slid inside your mouth, entangling with yours in an intimate dance. You simply couldn’t get enough of his mouth, and it seemed neither could he.
His hands gripped your waist and lifted you onto the desk, mouth continuously pressed against yours, traveling down to your jawline and neck. You wrapped one leg around his waist, allowing for the silky dress to slide down your thigh as your leg was in mid-air, and Javier moaned. There was nothing that could’ve contained that noise for the life of him. He moaned in the crook of your neck, just above your collarbone, and it sent shivers down your spine. With his right hand still on your waist, the other snaked and pulled your other leg around his own waist, thus spreading your legs enough for him to sit right in between them, pressing his body on yours.
Your fingers tugged at his locks, lightly grazing the back of his neck, and Javier moaned again, right into your mouth, causing you to scrunch your face in some sort of forbidden and new ecstasy. You knew you should’ve put an end to it, to spare both of you the inevitable pain and the further longing, but how to do such a seemingly cruel thing when it felt so heavenly?
You ran out of breath when Javier pulled away, struggling to breathe himself. He locked his forehead with yours, his thumb running across your lips, further smudging your lipstick. He looked hungrily at you for a little while, not even blinking.
“I like you without the lipstick better. Fuck, you’re… so gorgeous…,” he muttered, nuzzling at your neck.
“No.”
“Yes. You can’t stop me from saying that.”
You ached. It was too painful to keep doing that like it meant nothing, like there was still anger to be felt when that alone had disappeared months ago. You refused to play pretend anymore, to long for those little moments where you pressed pause.
“Then at least don’t make me think there’s a future for you and me,” you said.
“Fine.”
He sounded decisive, and you ached even more. More due to the fact that you also wanted to be firm and decisive, even though you so desperately longed for understanding and safety with him.
Only with him.
“You talk a lot and say a lot of things, but it’s not what you really wanna say. And I know it comes hard to you, I know it’s not easy… but at least let’s be mature about this and… just admit that it’s… we should let this go.”
He let go of you at last, dragging the fabric of the dress down along your thigh and stared at the floor, devoured by guilt.
“We should,” he silently admitted.
“No more but’s. No more pressing pause. We have to stop.”
“You’re right.”
Another never-ending silence during which you felt like you could burst with sorrow, but you did no such thing. You cleared your throat and bit your lips, arranging your dress as you stood back up, and searched for his face again.
“It’s already been established that I am not the guy who commits, and… I can’t give you what you may need or want, so… you’re right.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sure there’s someone out there who can… give you exactly what you want and need. And deserve.”
You saw devastation on his face, a tremor in his lower lip, and it broke you just as much. But it was the right call. You were tired of playing games that led nowhere. After all that you’ve faced in the past year, you slowly came to the realization that you craved stability once again. You craved simple moments when you could feel happy.
And those were just too short, too out-of-character with Javier.
“We’ll still have to work together,” you tried to coax him in a way. “So maybe we could even—”
“No.”
You frowned, puzzled.
“If you’re gonna say some bullshit excuse that we can be not just colleagues, but friends, or anything like that… don’t. It’s the worst fucking thing you could possibly say.”
“We—we have to work together still, that’s not gonna change.”
“I’d much rather be your worst enemy than any friend you think I would be to you.”
Javier walked away, fast-paced and furious, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone to crumble for one second which ticked like eternity.
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baya-ni · 3 years
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SHADOW’s Queer Coding
I first started exploring this idea of Sk8′s implicit queer rep (as in stuff other than explicit same sex intimacy) in this post.
I know we like to joke that Hiromi is the Token Straight of the protag gang, but I argue that he’s as much an example of queer rep as any of our main characters, albeit in a less conventional and fanservicey way.
So that’s what this post is gonna be, an analysis of Hiromi/SHADOW as a queer figure, how his character fits the Jekyll/Hyde archetype as a metaphor for queerness and The Closet, the similarities between SHADOW as a skatesona and early drag, and how his character represents a larger problem of exclusion within queer fandom spaces.
The 1886 Gothic novella The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson is the origin of the phrase “Jekyll and Hyde”. What I’m calling the Jekyll/Hyde archetype, refers to the same thing; it refers to duality, to a character who is “outwardly good but sometimes shockingly evil” (as described from the novella’s wiki page).
And the Jekyll/Hyde dynamic has also long been associated with Queerness. The antagonism between Jekyll and Hyde as two sides of the same person resonates with many people as similar to the experience being in the closet, and many many scholars have written about this queer reading of Jekyll and Hyde. Do a quick google search if you don’t believe me.
Hiromi experiences his own Jekyll/Hyde duality through his SHADOW persona, which seems to entirely contradict with Hiromi’s day to day personality.
Whilst Hiromi is sweet, romantic, and generally very cutesy, SHADOW is mean-spirited, sadistic, described as “the anti-hero of the S community.”  And though these two personalities seem entirely at odds, SHADOW doesn’t exist in a vacuum, he’s very much a part of Hiromi. In the show, this manifests as SHADOW’s sabotage moves being all flower themed, as Hiromi works in a flower shop, and how he’ll “step out” of character when playing babysitter to the kids.
Below is passage from an essay titled, “The Homoerotic Architectures of Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” which reminds me a lot of Hiromi’s character, such that I think his character arc can be read as an allegory for coming out and self acceptance.
The closet, here, is a space not only for secrecy and repression, but also for becoming; it is the space in which queer identities build themselves up from “disused pieces” and attempt to discover the strength needed for presentation to the world. The closet is both a space of profound fear and profound courage—of potentiality and actualization. (Prologue)
Unlike the kid/teen characters, the show’s adult characters all lead double lives. When they aren’t skating, they have day jobs. Kaoru is a calligrapher, Kojiro is a restaurant owner, Ainosuke is a politician/businessman (but tbh his job is just being some rich dude), and Hiromi works in a flower shop.
But of the adult protagonists (so not Ainosuke), Hiromi compartmentalizes the most.
Kojiro leaves his face totally exposed such that he can be recognized both on and off the skate scene. Kaoru at least covers his face, but his trademark pink hair and constant use of Carla doesn’t make it very hard to connect the dots between him and CHERRY. He’s also always with Kojiro in the evenings, so if you don’t recognize him as CHERRY when he’s on his own, you certainly will when you see him interacting with Kojiro/JOE.
Next to these two, Hiromi seems the more adamant at separating his Work from Play.
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Even when he’s been clearly found it, he still tries to deny that he and SHADOW are the same person. Miya even uses this to coerce Hiromi into helping him and the boys:
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I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the separation between Hiromi and SHADOW can be interpreted as a metaphor for being in The Closet. As SHADOW, he leads a secret life, one characterized by an tight-knit underground community with a vibrant night scene, where he behaves in ways typically frowned upon by larger society. He worries about being found out and judged by the people close to him.
But in Ep 4, the walls of his Closet begins to come down, or in this case is literally imposed upon by other members of his community, by its younger members, who don’t feel the same need to hide their passion for skateboarding or lead the same kind of double life.
We then see the line between Hiromi and SHADOW begin to blur.
He becomes less of an antagonist, and instead the audience sees him become a mentor and “mother hen” figure for the younger skaters. Later on in Ep 4, we see him casually interacting with the other protags in full SHADOW mode, not as an “anti-hero” but as a friend.  In Ep 6, he acts as a babysitter for the kids, and we see him totally comfortable appearing both in an out of his SHADOW persona throughout their vacation.
And I think that this gradual convergence of Hiromi and SHADOW will culminate in this tournament arc.
There’s something more personal that’s driving SHADOW to do well in this tournament. It’s not just for bragging rights or his pride as a skater, but the results of this tournament is going to have some kind of greater impact on Hiromi’s personal life. Personally, my theory is that Hiromi is using this tournament to prove to himself that he’s worthy enough to ask his manager out on a date.
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Hiromi is no longer compartmentalizing, his two lives are overlapping and influencing each other. Recall the essay quote I cited earlier:
The closet... is the space in which queer identities build themselves up from “disused pieces” and attempt to discover the strength needed for presentation to the world... of potentiality and actualization.
This is exactly the case for Hiromi. Through skating, he is piecing together the disparate parts of him such that he can present himself to the world as a more unified and confident being.
And the show presents the very skating community that Hiromi has been working so hard to keep separated from his personal life- Reki, Langa, Miya, Kaoru, and Kojiro- as the catalyst for that becoming.
That, my dear readers, is queer coding if I ever saw it.
But there’s probably gonna be people claiming something along the lines of “But SHADOW can’t be queer rep because he’s Straight!” And I assume that’s because he shows romantic interest in his female manager.
First of all, Bisexuality. Also Ace/aro-spec people. And second of all, SHADOW is Hiromi’s drag persona.
And before anyone can say anything about how Hiromi can’t do drag because he’s straight (assumption) and cis (also an assumption) uhhhh no, fuck you.
Drag didn’t start with RuPaul’s Drag Race, that’s just how it got mainstream. And it’s also how it got so gentrified and transphobic. You heard me. But anyway.
Drag is, and has always been, first and foremost about exaggerated, and oftentimes satirical, gender presentation and performance. It’s about playing with gender norms through artistic dress and theater, not so much to do with sexuality or gender identity.
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Literally, what’s the difference here?
SHADOW is a persona of exaggerated masculinity with a punk aesthetic. Regardless of his sexuality or gender identity, Hiromi’s gender performance as SHADOW is drag- that makes him queer representation, change my fucking mind.
Queerness is more than same-sex romance, and by extension, good queer representation is not limited to canonized gay ships. The very word Queer, in it’s ambiguity, is meant to encompass the richly unique experiences of everyone within the LGBTQ+ community.
In my opinion, Queer =/= Gay. I mean, they’re colloquially the same yes and even I use them interchangeably. But for the purpose of this post, they’re not the same, and that’s to argue that Hiromi/SHADOW’s lack of acknowledgement as queer rep illustrates a larger issue of exclusion within fandom.
I mean, this is something we all kinda been knew, but in the case of Sk8 specifically, there are a two main reasons why I think Hiromi is rarely acknowledged as queer rep.
1. He’s not shippable with another male character
Fandom favors mlm ships when it comes to what’s considered good queer rep. And the ultimate mark of good queer rep is explicit acts of romance or intimacy between two male characters. Unlike with any of the other characters in the show, we can’t point to Hiromi and automatically clock him as gay, especially because he expresses romantic interest in a woman.
So by default, he’s less popular, because “Ew Straight People” amirite /s.
2. He’s not attractive
This is really interesting, because like JOE, Hiromi is a beefcake.
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But fans don’t thirst over him the same way they do over JOE. Granted, the show really plays up JOE’s muscles in a very strip-teasey way that literally encourages viewers to find him attractive. By contrast, Hiromi is pretty much covered head to toe and he paints his face in theatrical makeup- the point is to look scary, not attractive.
In essence, even though Hiromi engages in “queer behavior” through his SHADOW persona, his queerness isn’t palatable.
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But I also think there’s some pretty insidious undercurrents of fetishization going on here, of both Asian people AND gay men. Which is... a whole other thing I really don’t have the capacity to unpack completely.
But basically, Hiromi doesn’t fit into any of the popular BL archetypes so he’s less likely to recognized as Queer. Relatedly, he’s also less often subjected to a fetishistic gaze as other characters. I mean...
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So again, fans just don’t find him as appealing. Attractive characters are always more popular than ugly ones.
And I’m sure there are a lot of people who just don’t care for Hiromi’s personality, that’s fine, he does act like an asshole sometimes. But this post is meant to illustrate that queer rep takes multiple forms, and unfortunately I think a lot of media just tends to fall back on stereotypical portrayals of queer people for the sake of broader appeal. And by consequence, the fandom’s idea of what constitutes queer rep narrows to same-sex romance, usually between two cis gay men.
With the release of Ep 9, I know a lot of people queer people are going to find representation in the Kojiro’s whole “unrequited love” thing. But personally, I feel more represented by Hiromi, his journey of self-acceptance and subversive relationship with gender- that’s what resonates with me as a trans person.
And I think it’s important to see that kind of less palatable type of queer representation more acknowledged in fandom, and in Sk8′s fandom especially, because I know the demographics of this fandom lean heavily queer.
But that’s all for now, lemme know what you guys think :)
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dear-mrs-otome · 3 years
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Tamamo
The Basics:
(First off - the tail and ears are not always there. Makes it a bit hard to hide what you are otherwise!)
Tamamo is one of the three starter routes, alongside Yoritomo and Benkei.
The ultimate fox spirit, Tamamo is an ethereal trickster, the rare powerful nine-tailed fox whose life is saved by the MC and subsequently binds her soul to his in a pact. Charming and sensual, always quick with a mischievous smile, he sashays his way through life finding entertainment in novelties both great and small. A consummate aesthete and somewhat of a hedonist, good food, beautiful things, and the general finer things in life bring this free spirit great joy.
Along for the ride and fascinated by MC and her 'beautiful soul', he follows her as she joins forces with the shogunate and finds a place for himself amongst their tight-knit group, his experience and wisdom especially in all things supernatural a great boon to Yoritomo's forces. His powers temporarily reduced after being hunted down by Yoshitsune and his rebels, the pact he has with MC allows Tamamo to regain his strength every time she absorbs another ayakashi's power. But what is a fox if not wearing a mask...and the figure lurking behind it may be something far different than his comrades or even his soul-bound partner suspects.
The Spoilery Stuff:
Tamamo is based on one of the Three Great Evil Youkai of Japan, Tamamo-no-Mae, a fox that seduced her way through a line of Chinese and Indian leaders before becoming the concubine of Emperor Toba, causing his eventual death.
Prior to the events of the story, Tamamo was caught flitting around the Imperial Court by Yasuchika and imprisoned by him within the Sesshou-seki (a stone that still stands today, said to be formed from the body of Tamamo-no-Mae). This stone was stolen by Yoshitsune and an attempt made at destroying it in the hopes of removing any potential threat to Yoshitsune's rebellion...but this backfired when they didn't manage to kill the fox, only set him free wounded to be found by MC.
Our Tamamo may seem like the epitome of 'a rolling stone gathers no moss', a carefree individual dedicated to nothing more than whimsy. But his insouciant front covers a history dyed in blood, one in which Tamamo cut a brutal swath through the ayakashi world in his quest to become King of the ayakashi.
Born over 800 years ago across the sea (note the jian he carries, a Chinese sword) as a rare and all-powerful nine-tailed kyuubi fox, from the time of his birth Tamamo has been subjected to a mixture of awe, envy, and fear by his fellow ayakashi. The foxes, a bellicose and self-centered race, set aside their struggles for individual power and rallied around him after they failed to kill him in his youth, pushing him against his will to conquer and subjugate the other ayakashi races. It took a long time and many years before Tamamo turned his back on their demands and gave up his warlord ways, choosing instead to wander the world and observe humanity.
He remains fascinated by the beauty of humanity, both in their personalities and the things they craft - perpetually looking in on them from the outside, interacting with them tangentially but never able to do more than flit through their lives after the sobering experiences of having his ayakashi nature exposed and suffering the backlash of human fear and revulsion. Underneath all the whimsy and the smiles, the charm and the allure, lies a heart painfully lonely even if Tamamo himself is only vaguely aware of it being so.
He admires each of the men of the shogunate for their own unique strengths, and delights in teasing them all mercilessly, especially Shigehira - often making amends for it by letting Shigehira pet his fluffy tail, much to Shigehira's chagrin at having his weakness so easily exploited. Tamamo believes MC to be a diamond in the rough, a beautiful and kind soul that he looks forward to watching shine as she's polished by the struggles of conflict. He and Kurama have a long established rivalry, although it's more one-sided than anything...Kurama delights in nothing more than fighting and considers Tamamo to be one of the only opponents strong enough to be worthy of his time, while Tamamo finds him often little more than an annoyance.
Tamamo's route deals with him navigating the uncharted waters of opening up enough to allow the 'real' him out, and realizing that no amount of watching humans can truly tell him what it is like to be one, or be seen by one in return. That the differences between humans and ayakashi are something perhaps to be celebrated, rather than mourned.
Lines that ended me: 'I can bring a human pleasure beyond compare...but I can never make them truly happy.'
Tamamo's personality in a few words:
Elegant
Mischievous
Wise
Sensual
Shrewd
Similar characters (note I do not say EXACT):
IkeVamp - Saint Germain (charming gentleman, outside of time)
IkeSen - Mitsuhide (the trickster comparison and kitsune an obvious connection)
SLBP - Kenshin
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aizawabby · 4 years
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LILY (m)
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Pairing: Yakuza!Tamaki Amajiki x florist! Reader
Plot: your flowers were the one thing you loved the most in your life... well it’s in the top ten so you bet your ass that you would scream at anyone who would dare to ruin and it didn’t matter if the person was the biggest mobster around.
Genre: mafia au, florist au , NSFW 18+
word count: 6k
Warnings: slight sub/dom play, soft dom Tamaki, explicit smut, oral(f), vaginal penetration, creampies, mirror sex, choking, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), light spanking, mentions of sucking dick, multiple orgasms, praising ish, fat cock Tamaki, dirty talk, slight mention of blood (I was listening to auralescent while writing the smut)
Disclaimer: this is my first time writing explicit smut so pls if I didn’t any mistakes or need to improve any where pls let me know! Also the art work above is not mine nor do I own any of the bnha/mha characters.
A/n: hello~ this is my first fic in this blog, I really hope you guys like!! I’ve been planning it since a month and got way to lazy to complete it :(
ko-fi
The hot rays of sun burn your skin as you walk out of your flower shop for the 10th time today to display your flowers letting them get sunlight. Regretting not putting on sunscreen before leaving home, you whipped the sweat off your face and smiled at the aesthetic you created in front of your flower shop.
It truly was beautiful.
Satisfied with your work you were ready to go back into the air conditioned store. As you neared the glass door, a loud thud noise that came from the background making you flinch. Praying as you turned around you hoped that whatever caused that thud had nothing to do with your flowers and it was just the neighbors cat, Ginger, who had once again jumped over the garbage bin and toppled it over.
You sighed in relief when you saw that your flowers were still intact. Just when you were about to go back a man with a white cloak tripped over your vases not paying attention while running ruining all your hard work.
The man laying on the ground looked at your angry face and seemed like he was about to cry, but you didn’t care right now. You were furious, all your hard work has gone to waste just because one person didn’t pay attention to where he was going.
Getting off the ground he noticed how you were about to start to scream at him, quickly got up and started apologizing.
“Look here sir, apologizing isn't going to do shit for my flowers nor is it going to clean up this mess so I suggest you t-” just as you were about to finish your sentence you felt him grip your wrist and pull you into your store.
‘What the hell’ you thought as you looked up at your captive, he pushed you on to a corner wall where no one could see you, his one hand on your mouth keeping you from making any noise while the other was near your head trapping you from the outside world.
If you weren’t being kidnapped in your own store you would’ve been very much aroused by the situation.
Having let your only staff member go on their lunch break, leaing you alone with your captor was not helping your situation either. Even if you scream for help no one would come to your rescue.
Your captor must have felt your gaze as he looked your way and then looked away once again a blush creeping on his cheeks.
What the hell? Why is he blushing
You continued to study his features so that you will be able to memories them in case he decides to do something, only if you were left alive.
damn he’s cute
You watched him as he kept shifting his gaze from you and the window, curious to what he was eyeing, you peered your eyes out the window to see some pro-hero, whose name you couldn't remember, along with some police officers gathered together holding a piece of paper which seemed like a sketch, showing it to civilians that walked past them.
Since your hearing quirk wasn't going to help you get free you thought it might be useful to hear what the heroes were saying.
“Have you seen this man?” one of them asked “please if you do call the police station right away”. The hero held out a picture. It was your capture.
Holy shit
You let out a quiet gasp at the information discovered, your capture hearing the sudden noise turned towards you once again, his gaze unreadable.
He masked his emotions so you wouldn't be able to tell how nervous he was staying within such close proximity with you. Something he learned pretty early, since in his line of work showing any type of emotions was a weakness.
The sweet smell of your perfume that was helping calm his nerves, was making him lose focus on the tasks at hand. Finding an opening to escape without the pros seeing him.
God how did he want to bury his head is the crook of your neck a- his train of thoughts broke as he felt you try to wiggle out of his grasp.
He glared at you, eyes dark and menacing seeding chills to your spine, he was about to lean closer when the pro-hero left their post and started walking towards their new location.
‘That was close’, he thought
He freed your mouth and placed it on the hand on the other side of your head trapping you. “W-who are you?” you managed to say, he looked you in the eye “Suneater,”.
Thank god for the wall that was supporting you because you were sure that you would've fell on the floor because how much your knees had been wobbling out of fear and being so close with this very handsome man who happens to be the biggest mafia leader of Tokyo.
You blankly stared at him as the headlines from several news articles popped in your head about the man holding you captive, opening your mouth to say-no to beg for your life, this is definitely not the way you imagined yourself dying.
“I” you breathe out watching as the man leaves from his spot, freeing you.
‘is he getting some torture weapon? Is this because i screamed at him omg me and my stupid big mouth’ as your mind filled with gruesome thoughts when all of a  sudden cough broke your trans, you whipped your head to the noise almost getting whiplash from the sudden movement.
It was him.
He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his head hung low looking at his shoes as if they were much more interesting than you. He rubbed his palms together and was saying something under his breath. It almost seemed like he was...shy
What the hell is up with this guy?
“I… um… i am sorry for that” wide eyed and mouth agape you watched the man who once looked so frightening you nearly passed out from fear was now stumbling on his words as he apologized to you.
‘God i need to talk to my therapist after this, if i get out of this’
He lifted his head, his eyes barely noticeable as they stayed hidden due to the length of his hair. “I… I am s-s-sorry for putting you through this mess. I-it's just because, you see I didn't mean to, it's just that” he paused, he looked as if he were about to cry. What does one do in this situation? Do you go and console him for kidnapping you in your own store?
Confused, you stayed still, scanning him to look for some weapons he can use on you, eyes stopped at his trembling hands.
He’s bleeding
Once again mumbling something under his breath he continued “ you see, some people are looking for me, a-and because of some… things, that's why i ended up bumping into you, i-i didn't mean to knock down your flowers, you see i was just in such a hurry and needed a place to hide that i brought you here” he explained his situation.
He looked back at you waiting for you to respond,
“Are you gonna kill me?” he looked at you even more panicked than before almost like he was disgusted at the sheer thought “oh no no no no” he frantically moved his arms telling you no.
“Good, because i know how to fight” you lied, but seeing how scared he is you began to question whether this man actually was the notorious yakuza you heard about on the news.
Maybe he was the weak twin no one knew about
Your legs finally regained their strength and you leaned off the wall, and walked past Suneater as you disappeared in one of the rooms in the back of your shop.
“Are you coming?” your head peered from the room as you waved your hand at him to come.
‘What are you doing?!? Inviting a yakuza in your safe place’ you thought, while one part of your mind told you to run, the other told you to stay you were conflicted.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Suneater enter the room, without turning around, you pointed at the chair, “sit” said a little more sternly than you wanted to. Confused at the sudden change in your demeanor, he raised an eyebrow at you, why did you want him here with you when you knew his truth. Anyone with the slightest of common sense would call the police right now, yet you stayed calm.
“Look” you turned around, tiered “ if your not gonna kill me then let me help you with your injury”
‘injury? What injury?’
He looked down at his hand feeling a sting. There was a deep cut, most likely from when he knocked over your flowers ‘oh’ his palm was covered in blood.
He sat down at the designated seat waiting for you, closing his eyes letting the sweet and earthy smell of the flowers fill his nostrils, calming his senses.
                                *     *      *
“Hey did you even listen to a word I said?” Tamaki lifted his head from his palm, “hmm?”. The spiky red head grunted, rubbing his hands on his face tired of his boss being so distracted.
“What’s gotten into you, man?” he questioned, Tamaki innocently looked at him as if he did nothing.
Truth was he was bored, he knew the plan they had went over it a millions of times heck he was the one who made it in the first place.
“Nothing Kirishima, I heard you, ” he said, moving his gaze to where he was looking before, Kirishima followed the direction in which he was looking and spotted you.
You were out in the scorching sun, moving huge pots of flowers around the front of your store.
Grinning he looked back at his superior “why are you looking at me like that” Tamaki said, not liking the way Kirishima smiled at him, he knew something.
“You got a crush don’t ya boss?” Kirishima proceeded to repeatedly poke his bosses arm, annoying him.
“fuck of” Tamaki flustered, turned around avoiding Krishima’s graze, maybe he did have a small crush.
“hey boss” Kirishima scooted his chair closer to Tamaki “after our mission why don’t ya go get her number hmm? Who knows you might even get a date” he said grabbing his bosses shoulder and shaking it as he told him to man up.
                                 *     *      *
He broke out of thoughts feeling the pads of your fingers linger over his palm.
“Is this okay?” you kneeled in front of him, placing the safety kit on your lap concentrating on the task at hand.
“Y-yeah” you looked up, worrying that you might have hurt him accidentally, instead of seeing him wince in pain you were faced with a blushing yakuza.
Not knowing how to react you quickly lower your gaze and continue working on the task at hand.
“You're good at this,” he was the first to speak, breaking the silence.
“Huh, oh yeah i guess,” you let out a nervous laugh, “I used to volunteer as a nurse in hospitals back when I was in college, at one point in my life i wanted to become a doctor or nurse, to help people like pro-heroes did but then i lost interest in the subject and started to like other things so i opened up a flower shop,” you bit your lip realizing you might have over shared, “sorry that was to much wasn't it?” he smiled.
Shaking his head no, he looked at you warmly making you feel weird inside. As the two of you continued to talk, you learned more about him, nothing too personal but enough to make you feel like maybe just maybe you were starting to become friends.
“Alright all done, Tamaki” giving him a bright smile as you got up. He looked at his bandaged hand, smiling “Thank you, Y/n”. He got up from his seat, bidding you goodbye after apologizing for the inconvenience he caused, and walked towards the front door.
“Wait Tamaki!!!” you ran towards the front door hoping he hadn't left already, opening the door you called out for him once again, he stops and turns to look at you, confused as to why you called him.
“Y/n? What happened, are you okay?” he waited for you to catch your breath “yeah i'm fine i just,, i wanted to give you something” the tips of your ear started to burn as you felt a blush creep in, you handed him a purple lily.
Dumbstruck at the present he stayed quiet, smiling shyly as he reached for the purple flower, his fingers grazing you for a second, blushing he thanked you for the gift “ but why?” he asked, finally gaining the confidence to look at you.
You were smiling softly, a light blush spread on your cheeks “it reminded me of you,” you looked at him “and it's pretty like you” you said mentally cursing at yourself for voicing your inner thoughts, and for blushing harder.
Before the tomato looking man could say anything else, you ran back into your shop waving him goodbye.
                                  *     *      *  
Six months ago today, you were ‘kidnapped’ by the notorious Suneater. Your life hasn’t changed much since, you still wake up everyday at 8 am, you still drink the same type of coffee, and you still come back home at 8 pm.
But there was one thing that was significantly different, everyday at noon Tamaki would present himself in front of your store.
At first, it started with him coming to your shop, waiting outside debating whether he was coming in or not.
You would stay in the back of your cash register, listening to him mumbling to himself “common just go say hi that’s all you can do! Common just like you did with kirishima” you giggled.
But without a word he would leave. Disappointed you waited for the next day, maybe then he’ll talk to you.
The next week, he finally came in the store, (with the push of a spiky redhead) he wandered around before picking up a single rose, and came to the cash.
Ever since that day, he started to come more often and stayed longer talking to you about everything and nothing.
Slowly, his visits at the store became more constant just like his presence in your life.
“Are you here to buy something or to see me?” you winked at him going in the store, leaving a flustered indigo haired man behind.
He followed you inside, taking a deep breath calming his racing heart.
“Do you like me?” you asked casually as you picked up boxes from the front desk. Eyes wide Tamaki looked at you and gulps nervously before speaking “I-um I...w-well actually”
‘Fuck was I that obvious?’ He mentally screams at himself.
You laugh at his panicked expression “I’m just kiddin Tama, you don’t need to worry, come on help me with these boxes” you say grabbing his hand drawing circles trying to calm him, but it didn’t. It made him even more red and made his heart beat so fast he thought it was going to come out of his chest.
And sometime along the way, you had begun to fall for him too.
                                 *     *      *
Breaking you out of your day dream you felt a strong grip on your shoulder, you grabbed the intruders hand and twisting your body as fast you could ready to attack.
You lowered your hard after seeing your crush.
“Not bad, Y/n” he showed you the bag of food he was holding “you’ve improved I’m impressed” Tamaki said pressing his hand on your lower back pushing you towards the front door of your apartment complex.
Oh yeah you had also started to take self defense lessons from Tamaki once he found out about your bluff about knowing how to fight. From that day he took it upon himself to teach you how to defend yourself in case you were abducted by another Yakuza.
“Didn’t you have a meeting today with the Kyoto group?” you opened the door to your small apartment where you guys would often hang out “how did it go” you asked taking off your shoes.
“It was alright i guess, they wanted to make a deal” he spoke calmly and went to set the table for the two of you. You hummed at his answer without further questioning him because nothing good ever comes with dealing with the Mafia.
The two of you silently enjoyed the Takoyaki brought by Tamaki.
“Can you pass me a napkin?” you observed as he manifested a tentacle thanks to his quirk and handed you a napkin.
“Hey Tama” you rested your chopstsicks on your place, resting your head on your palm looking at him as he was midway of putting an octopus ball into his mouth, he hummed in response telling you to continue.
“With your quirk you can manifest everything you eat right?” nodding he put another ball into his mouth “so can you…” you wiggled in your seat regretting what you were about to ask, but you needed an answer it was a question that kept you up during many sleepless nights.
Confused at your sudden shyness he lifted an eyebrow at you, this was very out of character for you since you were usually pretty blunt “c-can you make your semen taste like chocolate?”
Tamaki choked on his food, spitting it out looking at you with a horrified face, you scoot closer to him waiting for his answer. Unable to look at you in the eyes he raised his head looking at the ceiling rubbing his hands on his face trying to calm the rush of heat he was feeling. “Taaaammmakii” you whined, tugging on his arm like a child begging him to answer you, he looked at you opening his mouth but then closing it going beet red.
“Ohhh did you do it” you giggled as he blushed even harder and hid his face in his hands and you laughed harder.
                                 *     *      *
“what are we watching tonight?” Tamaki walked into your living dressed in gray sweatpants and a black shirt sitting on your sofa, poking you with his left foot.
It wasn’t often that you got to see Tamaki dress so casually due to his job most of the time he would wear expensive suits (which made him look very hot) but there was something about him dressing down that made your heart flutter.
It was nights like these you loved the most, nights when you do nothing but stay up all night watching movies still you passed out cuddling against Tamaki.
“hmm I don’t know” pouting as you looked through your nail polish wondering which color you should paint them next. Tamaki smiled and pointed towards the purple bottle.
“Then how about” he scanned through the list of shows and movies “this” he said finally stopping at Avatar the last air bender.
While one would expect Tamaki’s attention to be at the screen in front of him watching the show he picked out it wasn’t. He was much more interested watching you paint your nails. He watched as you stuck your tongue out while concentrating on not to make a mess.
She’s so cute
“didn’t you go for lunch with your friends today?” He asked his eyes glued to the tv, mouth slightly agape.
“oh yeah I did, it was fun” he hummed and laughed at something Soka said. “My friends kept asking me if we’re together yet” you laughed at the memory of your friends teasing to finally confess your feelings for the man.
“then why don’t we” not paying attention to what he was saying he continued to watch tv.
Wide eyed he looked at you when it finally hit him you looked back at him in shock from the sudden confession“i ..i mean if you want you haha” he panicked.
Grinning as you got up from your spot on the floor you climbed onto his lap. Tamaki’s face burned a deep shade of red as he tried his hardest to sink his head into the couch wanting it to swallow him whole.
“Hey tama look at me” you brought a hand to his cheeks caressing it softly, making him look at you as you leaned onto him giving him a kiss.
“I like you” he breathes out as you pull away from the kiss smiling at each other “will you go out with me?”.
You rest your forehead on his, catching your breath you nod “yes I will” he holds you tighter holding your body next to his never wanting to let you go.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his lips brushing up against yours, you nod “i'll be mad if you didn't”
He captured your lips in a delicate kiss. The kiss slowly escalated, becoming more rough as he pushed his tongue in your mouth. His wet muscle exploring every nook of your mouth as you submit to him, soft moans erupt from your throat as he grabs your boob giving it a squeeze.
“Oh fuck” he moans grabbing your hips pressing it harder on his crotch as you continued to grind against him.
“Someone’s excited” you smirk against his neck making it, as you grab his clothed dick gasping at size. He was big.
Stopping your movements, he stared into your eyes softly, his hand coming to caresses your face “ are you okay with this if not we don’t need to go further” he reassured. Smiling, you took his hand and kissed it, “I want it Tamaki, I want you.”
He pulled your shirt over your head throwing somewhere in the room, eyes lingering on the lace white bra. His hand was quick to go back on your breast, squeezing it with such an eagerness that just made you wetter by seconds. Taking off the bra, he grabbed your left tit. Soon, your nipple was engulfed by his mouth, he eagerly sucked it letting the tip of his tongue roll around, making you release another moan as you grab his hair pulling him up attaching his lips with yours.
Tamaki’s tongue was back in you, eyes closed as he enjoyed the warm and sweetness of your mouth. He held your hips, lifting you up heading towards your bedroom.
Amajiki hovered over you, smiling softly, he leaned in sealing lips with yours; peppering your skin with his soft kisses and marking you all the way to your breast. His hand finally finding the soft flesh, he gave it a squeeze as his lips came in contact with your areola, you let a breathy moan as his tongue worked on teasing your erect nipples while his other hand massaged the other in pleasurable manner.
He lifted his head from your chest, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to your aching core. Spreading your thighs open, kissing the soft flesh slowly, he teasingly nips at your inner thigh marking you, ignoring the place you wanted him the most.
You grind your hips in the air, hoping it will get his attention, you whimper as he rubs circles on your clit over your underwear finally feeling some relief, you feel the cold air hit your wet core as he slides it off your legs.
“You’re so wet, bunny” he hummed in approval as he twirled his finger in your wetness, content that he was able to make you feel this good. “I bet you taste good too ” he murmures, his eyes darkening with lust, he props your legs into his wide shoulder.
Unable to wait any longer to taste you, he lowered his face to your folds, the feeling of his mouth on your lips, moaning as you pulled his hair telling him to continue. He moaned into you sending vibration to your core, he squeezed your thighs to signal that he understood, he ran his tongue along your dripping slit and plunged his tongue past you lips and shallowly thrusting it inside until he was lapping up your juices with fervor while you arched your back as you moaned his name “you taste so fucking good, bunny” he moaned as he grinned his hips on the mattrest revealing his arousal.
Addicted to the slight bitter but sweet taste that he continued to eat you with more force.
“Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck” your legs trembled.
He knew you were close, slowly he slipped the first finger in, your walls warm and welcoming clenched his finger as he pumped it in, adding another right after. His mouth finding your clit, sucking the sensitive bud, sending pleasure coursing through your body.
“A-amajiki don’t stop” your toes curl at the sensation of his fingers curling inside you, you breathlessly moan your mind going blank as pleasure takes over. Pulling on his hair as his mouth works on your clit while his fingers work their magic, overwhelmed by the pleasure you felt from your lower stomach tightening, “Amajiki… i'm gonna-” before you can finish your sentence you feel the third finger slid in, you roll your eyes back feeling your walls stretch “Oh god, Tamaki”
Tamaki grinds his hips harder at the sounds coming out of your lips, his rock hard cock twitch in sweatpants “fuck” he groaned into your heat fingers slicked with your juices as he worked them in and out of you and lapped your sweet juices with his tongue “I love when you say my name,”.
“T-tama” you moaned bucking your hips on his face in search of release. Only a few moments later you came hard, with his face between your thighs and into his mouth. Your vision blurred as felt Tamaki continue to eat out even after cuming so hard. “Amajiki” you tried to get out of his grasp telling him that you’re too sensitive, he didn't move. He stayed there till you felt another wave of pleaser hit and you came into his mouth.
You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling as you felt euphoria, you watched Amajiki get up from his position between your thighs, get up to kiss you, you tasted yourself on his lips moaning as you felt his boner poking your inner thigh.
He pulls away from the kiss, whining at the loss of contact eyes following him as he gets off the bed. You watch him as he takes off his sweatpants revealing his black boxers which had a wet patch at the tip of his dick, drooling at the outline of his fat cock you imagined having it in your mouth fucking your troat till you became sore.
You get on your knees and start to crawl to where Tamaki was standing, pulling his briefs down until you were met with his painfully erect cock. Licking your lips you looked at him “can i suck your dick” he grabs your chin giving you a peck on the lips “sure, but not now” he says as he backs you up on the bed, laying you down as he starts to nip at your jaw “i wanna be inside you first” he whispers in your ear.
Tamaki separates your legs with his knee, placing himself between your thighs, stroking his dick as he brushes the head of his cock your wet centre. “Amaji-ah” you feel his tip rub against your entrance, but then backing away with flushed cheeks “baby… do you have any condoms” he rubs the back of his neck. It was moments like these where you would question how this man was a mafia leader.
Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him on top of you kissing him, “its okay im on the pill” you say kissing his face. He aligned himself with your dripping core, his length sliding against your folds and getting coated by your arousal. You shudder, hearing him grunt as he inserts his tip in, stretching you out. He then thrust his length in you, grunting as he felt your wall squeeze around him, once completely in he stayed still letting you adjust to his size, since he was on the bigger side.
You moaned, biting his shoulder as you felt him stretch out your walls, you felt full. “ oh no baby are you okay?” Tamaki cooed still inside of you as he whipped tears from your face “should we stop? Does it hurt?” It wasn't the first time that he had to pull out because he was too big during sex, as he got ready to pull out, you wrapped your legs around his waist kepping him in place “Tama i-its okay, it doesnt hurt, you’re just big” you kiss his cheeks giving him a okay to move as you grip his shoulders” as he slowly began to move.
“Fuck youre so tight baby, you feel so f-fucking good” he let out a groan thrusting even deeper in you.
“Holy shit, your pussy feels so good” he moans in your mouth, picking up the pace. Your mouth drops open and you watch his brow furrow as he slips deeper into you, and fills you up. He continues to push until he finally bottoms out, he pants out a heavy breath that he's been holding out. Your eyes flutter but you fight to keep them open, and your arms wrap around his torso to grip his back.
“oh god Amajik” you moan, hips moving to match his thrust “feels so good”
“Yeah?” he pants out, moving at a steady pace, and you nod in response.
Admiring how he looks on top you, lips pink and swollen from your kisses parted as soft moans and grunts pass them. His eyes dark, looking at you with insatiable hunger that told you that he was holding back.
“Amajiki harder” you whimper, “fuck me harder.”
He pauses for a second, studying your face to make sure he was hearing this well. His breath stuttered before he let out a shaky breath.Then his hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold and he started snapping his hips as hard as he could into yours.
Your eyes roll back at the force of his hips slapping against yours. His nails dug into your supple skin and it stung but you didn’t bother to care because the feeling of him stroking along your sensitive walls was too overwhelming.
“Fuck baby” he gruffly let’s put “you’re making me feel so good”
Clenching around his words, you feel more of your juices coating him as he fucks you harder into the mattress.
“You like it?” he pants “ is my cock making you feel good, baby”
You nod. You couldn’t speak properly, not with the way his hips seemed to increase their speed and hit you deeper with each thrust.
“Use your words, bunny” he grunts into your ear. He releases your hips in favor of gripping your thighs, pausing to shift onto his knees and have a better handle of you and angle his hips just right. “You love it don’t you? You love it when I fuck you with my cock?”
“Yes” you moan “i love it, i love your cock”
“Your close aren’t you? I can feel the way you keep clenching around my cock,”
“Oh god I’m close tama, don’t stop” you say when the thrust abruptly stops when he pulls out of you, and you whimper in shock and desperation. But he doesn’t allow you a second to question him before he’s gripping your hips and flipping you onto your stomach lifting your ass up. He spanks your ass and you squeal in surprise but it morphs into a moan when he shifts your hips to position himself behind you properly. He’s slipping inside you with ease, and you’re back where you left off.
Trailing a hand from your back, all the way to your head he gripped your hair, pulling your head back to capture lips with his.
His mouth on your neck kissing his way to your ear, nibbling on it before he continued spewing filthy phrases in your ear that had you whining in blinding pleasure.
“You're taking it so well, baby. Now be a good girl and cum on my cock” he pants in your ear.
His hand finds your engorged clit, rubbing vigorously as he snapped his hips faster. Your mouth dropped open but no sounds came out, your voice was gone as you felt the pleasure rapidly increasing and the heat in your tummy growing larger and larger until it finally exploded.
“oh tamaki” you moaned “ fuck, I’m cumming.” You called out his name breathlessly as if it was a mantra as you felt yourself come undone all over him.
Amajiki groaned, fucking you through your orgasm, chasing after his own. After a few deep thrusts he stops and gripping your hips as he feels himself shooting his release in you.
He stays inside for a while and you feel him kiss on your along your spine, whispering soft nothings. He pulls out leaving you feeling empty.
Unable to move your body, you let yourself fall into the mattress resting your head on your pillow.
“Tired” you hear tamaki leaning against the headboard of your bed. He pulls your limp body making you hover over his lap, your back against his chest “but i'm not done with you baby” he bites your shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock on your entrance lubricating it with both of your juices.
“Yeah that’s right watch yourself as I fuck you” he says starring right at you through the mirror. You watched him as he slipped himself inside you with ease.
He held your hips keeping you in place as you watched his length disappear in you with each hard thrust.
“Oh my god” your moan feeling the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot. “Are you gonna cum baby?” Amajiki grunts going faster, you nod grabbing his thighs to help you steady as you start to move your hips to match his pace as you feel your 4th orgasm approach.
“Look at you bouncing on my dick like a good little slut” he growled in your ear, his hands wrapped around your throat choking you “come for me slut” with a couple more thrust both of you came undone.
Breathing heavily as you calmed from your high, you got off his lap and sat beside him leaning on the headboard.
You looked ahead seeing both of your reflections in the mirror; cheeks flushed and swollen lips.
Tamaki turned towards you smiling as he caressed your face leaning for a kiss.
“You're amazing, you know that?” you smiled at him, finding him adorable in his fucked out state.
“So are you,” you said, returning the kiss.
Tamaki gets off the bed and goes to the bathroom to get something to clean both of you up. You manage to keep your eyes open, smiling as you see Tamaki’s naked butt as he leaves the room. Reaching out your hand imagining to squish it.
You close your eyes letting the sleep take you over when you something cold on your inner thighs opening your eyes only to see Tamaki cleaning you off.
You feel the bed dip from Tamaki’s weight, you turn around laying on your back facing your lover. Smiling at him you wrap your arms around him and bury your head in the crook of his neck inhaling his sent mixed with sweat and sex.
“You're gonna be sore tomorrow” he places a kiss on the crown of your head “don't blame me for it though it was you who wanted it” he tries to mimic your moans from earlier. “Shut up” you say playfully slapping his chest he let out a low chuckles holding you tighter ready to let sleep take over.
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