#but there is beauty in a well-crafted short story

[kingofbodyrolls]

Say I Do (m) | jjk

Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.

Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)

AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au

Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

Word count: 5,2k

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).

Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 

Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜

This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜

Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).

This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨

Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 

Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 

As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.

Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.

The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 

You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 

A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.

What the fuck is Taehyung saying?

Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.

Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.

Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.

He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.

In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 

As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.

Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 

The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 

With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 

Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 

As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 

The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 

Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.

In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 

Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 

Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.

Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.

The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.

“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 

Fuck. 

All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 

Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 

In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.

With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 

Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 

As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 

Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.

Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 

Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 

Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.

Fucking hell he’s gonna come.

Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 

Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.

Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 

As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.

Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.

With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 

With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.

But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 

–

As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.

Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 

He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.

As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 

Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.

As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”

He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.

In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 

“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.

The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 

You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 

Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.

Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.

In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 

The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 

Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 

Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.

Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 

With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 

“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.

His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 

The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.

He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.

His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.

Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.

With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 

Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.

Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.

He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”

You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 

“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.

As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 

His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 

In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 

With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 

The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.

“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.

With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 

“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 

With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.

He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 

“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 

You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.

As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.

He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 

His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 

In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 

“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.

“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 

As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.

Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 

“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.

As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 

Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.

“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.

“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 

Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 

“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.

“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.

You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.

He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”

“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.

“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.

The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 

Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.

With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.

“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.

He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.

Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfics #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook smut #jjk fic #jjk smut #jungkook #jungkook one shot #bts x you #bts x reader #bts smut #bangtan smut #bangtan x you #bangtan x reader

[milswrites]

Unspoken Love

~ Eris Vanserra X Fem!Reader

Summary: All the ways in which Eris shows you he loves you.

Warnings: Fluffy goodness. Nudity (non-sexual). Period cramps.

Notes: This is for everyone who just longs to see Eris happy and in love (and more specifically for @searchingforbucky because I never would have written this if it wasn’t for you)

A Hopeless Prince

Eris had a silver tongue.

Centuries of speaking in court allowing him to become a master at crafting words. The Autumn Prince blessed with the gift of bending truths and delivering commands as though they were the sweetest poetry.

And yet, despite his eloquence in speech, Eris had one problem.

A cursed inability to voice his feelings.

It was a skill the red-haired prince had never required, a mask of cool indifference being the best item a male could wear in court. Emotions were a weakness that Eris couldn't allow himself to have on display, not in Autumn.

Until he met you. Then suddenly and all at once Eris found himself a victim to his own heart's desire.

A single look, that was all that was needed for Eris Vanserra to fall in love. One look and the male was certain he had found his equal.

Yet despite the instantaneous nature of his feelings for you, Eris found his tongue locked in your presence. The three words which he so longed to tell you caged within the confines of his mouth.

Eris loved you.

An all consuming love in which the heat of his desire burned brighter than any inferno he could muster with his own palms. And yet he still couldn't find the words to tell you this. But despite his inability to voice his emotions, Eris fought against his insecurities to make sure he let you know the depths of his feelings in other ways.

He made sure to tell you with the soothing tea he made for you each morning. With the gentle kiss he always laid upon your cheek as you stirred from your slumber. He made sure you knew with his sweet compliments and admiring eyes as he soaked in your radiant beauty for as long as you would allow.

Eris loved you.

He only hoped that one day he would be able to tell you this himself.

A Comforting Presence

Time was a scarce luxury for you and Eris.

Between his courtly duties and your equally busy schedule, quality time together was a rare sight.

Whenever you managed to find a moment of peace, free from your responsibilities and ready to devote all of your attention to the Autumn Prince, Eris always had the rotten luck of being called away to another task.

Which is why you often found yourself in this position; tucked away in a hidden area of the library, curled up with a good book whilst you waited for Eris to finish his daily obligations. The books you read acting as a blissful escape from the usually restless bustle of the Autumn Court.

It was all to easy for you to hide from reality between the inked pages. To allow your mind to freely wander amongst the stories while the time slowly passed until you could see Eris again. Working your way through Autumn's large expanse of literature as each day came and went.

So it was no wonder how in your dream-like trance you didn't notice the watchful figure admiring you from afar. It took three attempts of Eris softly clearing his throat before he was able to capture your attention and draw your gaze from the book in your hands. Tensing, your alarmed eyes swiftly flew towards the source of the sound, your muscles relaxing upon seeing the familiar face of your lover.

You took the time to admire Eris where he stood, shameless eyes raking over his well-defined figure before coming to a stop at the stack of documents which were clutched tightly in his hands.

"Another meeting?" you quietly ask with a sad smile, assuming that Eris had only dropped by for a short respite and a quick hello before he needed to return to his obligations.

Eris approached you, placing a delicate kiss onto your temple before moving to sit down in the armchair beside you. "Actually," he started, the low rumble of his voice cutting through the silence of the library, "I thought I might finish off my work here, if that is alright with you of course?"

You didn't fail to miss the light dusting of redness which blossomed on Eris's cheeks, nor the embarrassed edge to his tone as he spoke. Worried that the male would allow his insecurities to take control, you stretched out your hand to entwine it with his own, locking together your fingers as your thumb moved to rub soothing circles into his skin.

"I'd love nothing more" you answered honestly, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

The two of you sat in a peaceful silence, Eris beginning to work through his papers and you picking up your story from where you left off. Yet despite your different activities your hands remained placed in each other's, Eris placing the occasional kiss onto the back of your own whenever he sat back to ponder over what he was writing.

The two of you didn't speak; you didn't need to. Not when the comfort of each other's company was enough. It could have been hours until words were exchanged between you once more, the silence broken by a gasp escaping from your lips as you reached an exciting part of your story. Intrigued, Eris looked over to where you were sat.

"What is it?" he asked, straining his neck to peer over and try and catch a glimpse of your book. Interested eyes flashing over to your own wide ones.

"Nothing, sorry! Something big just happened, I'll try to stay quiet" you promised, afraid that if you were to disturb Eris from his work he would leave to finish it elsewhere.

Eris slowly nodded in acknowledgement, turning back to his papers to continue his writings, and yet it was impossible to stop his amber eyes from travelling back to your face. Brows knitting together as he took in the bright glint in your eye and the curling of your lips as you read.

Needing to satisfy his curiosity, Eris asked you once more, "What is it? What are you smiling at?"

"Shouldn't you be working?" you teased, noting the nosy way in which the Autumn Prince was trying to snoop at the page you were reading.

"Work can wait" he huffed, snatching the book from your hands, "I'm more interested in what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours."

And as you sat in Eris's lap, happily chatting away as his work laid unfinished and forgotten, the male promised himself he would always make time for you. Because no job, nor meeting, would ever be more important than getting to see you smile.

A Helping Hand

A groan of frustration tore from your lips as you entered your shared chambers. Distressed eyes meeting the teasing stare of your amused lover who was sprawled across the bed, no doubt having been waiting for your arrival.

A soft chuckle leaving Eris's lips at the sight of your disheveled form, "Difficult day, Little Fox?"

Having finally reached the sanctuary of your room, the weight of the days trials finally settled as your eyes began to uncomfortably sting with tears. Noticing your crumbling composure, Eris swiftly made his way over from the bed to where you were stood, gentle hands coming to rest against your cheeks as his searching eyes scanned over your frame.

Your appearance clearly worrying him as the male immediately pulled you into a crushing embrace.

Face now pressed into the exposed skin of Eris's chest where the top of his shirt was splayed open, you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the familiar scent of your partner. The smell of him alone enough to bring you the comfort you needed. The Autumn Prince held your tears at bay, both by the gentle caress of his hands against your body and the soothing murmurings of solace he offered you.

It was only when your breathing steadied, and the irregular pounding of your heart had subsided, did Eris then allow himself to pull away. "Do you want to talk about it?" Eris asked tentatively, lifting a tender hand to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear, "Or would you just like me to take care of you?"

Your heart lovingly ached at the male's compassion, his words the same ones you recite to him each time he comes back to your chambers forlorn and dejected after a difficult day.

"Will you take care of me?" you asked your prince, a single tear falling down your cheek. Not at the expense of your terrible day, but at the overwhelming surge of empathy swimming in your lover's eyes.

"Always" Eris replied, kissing away your lonely tear.

The Autumn Prince needn't be told what to do; silently leading you to the bed with a promise of returning.

You waited patiently for the male as he prepared your bath, the male filling the tub with an assortment of luxurious oils and healing salts. It was only when Eris was satisfied with the temperature of the steaming water, did he then return to carry you into the bathroom.

Eris's hands worked to aid you in unlacing the corset of your dress before he gathered the silk of the slip underneath to help remove it from your exhausted frame. Once free from the confines of your clothing, Eris supportively held your hand as he carefully assisted you in getting into the bath. Allowing you to adjust to the temperate waters before moving behind you to wash your hair.

Eris had the hands of a prince, smooth and unscarred, free from the marks of labor. Yet despite the polished nature of his nimble fingers, they worked wonders whilst running through your dampened hair and massaging your aching scalp. Each gentle rub as he worked the pine scented soap into your hair being enough to draw sounds of contented pleasure from your lips.

Your love was an expert at knowing what you needed, and as he worked to was the pollutant worried of the day gone by from your skin, Eris filled your ears with light-hearted stories of his own day.

It wasn't long before the sweet sound of laughter filled the room, memories of your sour day long forgotten as you merrily conversed with your partner.

The only thing that mattered in this moment of time was him.

And as your eyes caught Eris periodically sinking his hands into the lukewarm water to rise its temperature to an adequate level, you knew there was no one else in the world you would rather have take care of you. No man that you would rather love.

A Treasured Gift

Life with Eris meant you needn't want for anything.

He made sure to spoil you with more dresses than you would ever need and your collection of jewels had grown so large they now spilled from the box you kept them in.

But your favourite gift you had received from Eris wasn't the diamond encrusted tiara he had given you for your birthday, nor the prize mare he had surprised you with on the anniversary of your relationship.

No, the best gift Eris had ever given you was his mind, scrawled between the pages of a book. . .

Your lover's nerves were almost tangible as he approached, hands hidden behind his back as he slowly stalked in your direction. Low whispers of self-encouragement upon his lips as he set his determined eyes on you.

It was unusual, to see the usually confident male blanching in your presence, all colour drawn from his usually lifeful cheeks. Eris’s foot tapping restlessly against the floor when he finally came to a stop before you.

You made to greet your prince with a kiss, but Eris's shaky words interrupted your action. "I have something for you" he said, offering you an anxious smile as your brows raised in surprise, thoughts racing as you desperately tried to remember whether this day held any important significance that you had forgotten.

Noting your panicked expression Eris immediately blurted, "It's nothing big! Just something small I've been working on for you."

Eris was slow to draw his hands from behind his back, nervous eyes meeting your curious ones as you took in what he was holding.

"A book?" you asked, taking it from his slightly trembling hand in order to cast your inspecting gaze of the cover. Tales of the heart. Your favourite story.

A book you have read over a dozen times before. So why would Eris gift you a copy of a book you already owned? Sure your copy was tattered and well loved, but did it really require a replacement?

Ever the perceptive male, Eris inhaled deeply before explaining the reasoning of his gift, "I know I'm not the best at voicing how I feel. . . So I thought you could read it instead."

His expectant eyes urged you to open the book, so you did just that.

Peeling back the cover, you were greeted with Eris's familiar penmanship, the black ink which marked the page curling into words which made your heart swell:

You are my everything, nothing more and nothing less.

With watery eyes you eagerly flicked through the book, breath catching in your throat as you observed the ink covered pages. Eris had underlined all his favourite passages, each one accompanied by scribbles of his comments and opinions, the margins overflowing with carefully worded text.

Here in your hands you held a window into Eris's soul. His emotions laid bare across each page, exposing his mind and sharing his thoughts.

This little book, which fit snugly into the palm of your hand, was an offering. An invitation to get to know the male better, to understand Eris in his entirety.

Finding yourself lost for words you did the only thing you could do, pulling the Autumn Prince into a heated kiss of appreciation. Arms flying around his neck in an attempt to draw him in closer, doing your best to pour every ounce of love and praise into each gentle caress of your lips against his.

Anticipation growing in your chest at the prospect of delving into the book later on in the day, eagerly awaiting your exploration of Eris Vanserra’s mind.

A Heated Touch

You were in agony.

Bound to your bed, wallowing in your own misery as you clutched onto your abdomen with the hope of quelling the rising tide of pain.

It was that time of the year, your aching body signaling the unwelcome arrival of your cycle.

Eris had been reluctant to leave you this morning, worried about your ability to take care of yourself. Despite wanting nothing more than to spend the day wrapped in the loving arms of your partner, you half-heartedly pushed him from your bed, knowing the male had an abundance of dull meetings to attend today.

Yet now as you laid under your covers, curled into a ball as you miserably absorbed each aching stab of pain, you wished that you had never sent Eris away. Your suffering only increasing as the hours passed by.

You would search for your lover if you could, call him from his meetings and draw him back to your bed, but with a head like cotton and a body like lead you had no choice but to lay with your torturous discomfort in solitude.

Though thankfully, Eris had other plans. Unsatisfied with leaving his partner to suffer alone during her cycle, he had spent the morning postponing his meetings and delegating his work elsewhere. Anxiously wishing away the time until he was able to return to his chambers and take care of you.

Wasting no time once the rearrangement of his tasks had been completed, hurrying to the kitchen to make you a healing cup of medicinal tea before making his way to your shared room.

Opening the door to find you exactly where he had left you, huddled under the covers and eyes tightly closed as you tried to wait out wave after wave of pulsating pain.

Heart clenching at the sight of you in agony, Eris uttered curses to the gods for bestowing you with a pain that he could not fix. Sympathy flooding into his eyes as he came to sit by your side, raising a comforting hand to brush against your cheek and pull you from your fitful slumber.

"My poor Little Fox" he empathetically cooed, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose as you stirred from your sleep. Eyes blinking open, a weak smile graced your lips as the welcoming sight of your lover greeted you.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, brows furrowing at the wince which crossed your face as you turned your body to face him better.

"Will you hold me?" you pouted lamely, tears threatening to fall now your partner was here to comfort you.

"Of course" Eris answered, needing no further instruction as he moved to climb into the bed behind you, arms reaching out across the sheets to pull you towards him until your back pressed against his chest. A pained whimper drawing from your lips as he did so, Eris cursing himself for bringing you more anguish.

"May I try something?" Eris asked, seeking your permission for what he was about to do. Nausea building in your throat, you feebly nodded. What was the worse that could happen when you already felt like death itself?

Careful not to disturb you too much, Eris snaked his hands around your middle, moving them down towards your aching abdomen before allowing his hands to gradually heat to a bearable temperature.

A deep breath of satisfaction escaped from your lips at his heated touch. The ghost of Eris's flames working to quell your pain and soothe your aching.

"You are never leaving my side again" you giggled in relief, bringing your hands to rest against his own in the hope of absorbing each remnant of heat which Eris provided you with.

"That is something we can agree on" Eris purred, drawing you into his embrace further still, warm lips brushing against your neck as he continued, "There is nowhere else I would rather be."

And as Eris watched you fall into a blissful slumber, contented smiles resting upon each of your faces, the Autumn Prince could have sworn that the three words he so longed to tell you were patiently waiting on the tip of his tongue.

A Lover's Vow

It had taken you weeks to read through Eris's gift. Having opted to take the time to appreciate each little comment your partner had scribbled onto the pages.

Each word you read opening your eyes to a new side of the Autumn Prince, showing you glimmers of a male that felt and felt deeply. Every new thing you learnt about your lover working to crack the mask which he so often wore.

Now reaching the end of your story you didn't want it to end. You wanted - no needed- to learn everything you could about the male, feeling as though this gift had only scratched the surface when it came to introducing you to the mystery that was Eris Vanserra.

You had laughed, you had cried, and now turning to finish the final page you only longed to experience it all again.

Your curiosity would never be satisfied, not when it came to Eris.

Why is why you were pleasantly surprised, that when the final words had been read, a sealed letter which had been hidden between the pages dropped into your lap. The crimson ink which adorned the envelope staring right back at you as your wide eyes took in the message that was addressed to you.

Your happy ending, Little Fox.

You weren't sure why your heart had stopped at the sight of the letter, nor were you able to explain why your hands trembled nervously as you tore open the paper. Shaking as you removed the note which had been neatly tucked inside.

Pearlescent tears began to fall down your blushing cheeks as you read Eris's words, failing to even finish the letter before you had jumped on your feet and began to run.

You were unsure of where you were heading, but the one thing you were certain of was that Eris would be at the end of it. The letter now crumpled within your tight grip as you ran, afraid to let it go and lose the words which you had been so desperate to hear.

So you didn't stop, allowing your feet to carry you towards Eris, towards your answers. Only slowing down to catch your breath when you saw your partner outside, leading his horse back to the stables through the torrential rain.

Uncaring of the fact your clothes were not appropriate for the miserable weather, you closed the distance between you and the male. Mud splashing at your calves as you rushed towards him.

Eris didn't fail to miss your sodden figure running towards him, eyes blowing wide in alarm at your sudden appearance. Worried for your sanity, he immediately dropped the reins from his hands as he ran to meet you halfway.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, concerned eyes taking in the sorry state of your wild appearance, the male moving to grip your arm and move you towards shelter but not before you had forcefully ripped your arm from his hold.

"Is it true?" you asked, your silver tears mixing with the cooling rain which was beating against your flushed face.

"Is what true?" Eris cried, brows knitted together in confusion until his gaze dropped to the letter clutched tightly in your hand and then suddenly it all made sense.

"Yes. . ." he weakly replied after a moment, his surprise at your unexpected appearance having stolen his words.

"You love me?" you pressed further, taking a step closer to your anxious partner, lifting your fist which held the now sodden letter, "What you wrote, do you mean it?"

Eris scoffed at the ridiculous nature of your question, "Mean it? Of course I mean it, I wouldn't write it if I didn't."

"Say it" you ordered, "Please. I need to hear you say it."

The old Eris would have walked away, ignored your demands and fought against his tempestuous emotions. He would have never been able to express how he felt, unable to allow the words to escape from his lips.

Yet with one look at you, saturated hair clinging to your cheeks as you looked towards the male in desperation, Eris could feel his mask slipping. The stone veil falling from his face before it dropped to the ground and shattered.

And for the first time in your life you were staring at the true face of Eris Vanserra.

Tears streaming down his face as he allowed the wave of his once hidden emotions to crash over him.

"I love you" he confessed, burning stare meeting your own, "gods I love you."

A delighted laugh broke from the males lips as the weight of his confession lifted from his chest, hands flying to your smiling cheeks as the truth of his affections continued to flow, "Mind, body, soul, I'm yours. All of me. Mask or no mask, I have always belonged to you. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you this sooner."

"But I knew, Eris" you cried along with your partner, the heated touch of his warming palms enough to burn your tears away as they came, "Even though you never said it aloud I always knew, because you showed it to me in every way that counts. You have never failed to make me feel anything but loved."

"And do you?" he asked through heavy breaths, "Do you feel the same for me as I do for you?"

"Eris Vanserra" you beamed up at the male before you, eyes glistening as you absorbed the rawness of his heartfelt expression, " I have loved you since before I ever even knew you, and I always will. My heart belongs to you Eris, until my dying breath."

Unable to stop the sob which tore from his lips, Eris allowed himself to cry, arms coming to wrap around your middle in a crushing embrace as he sought to stabilize his trembling frame.

"I think I'm going to need a new letter" you mumbled into his chest, the ruined piece of paper having fallen to the rain-soaked ground in the midst of your embrace.

"I'll write you a thousand more if that's what you want" Eris promised, lips coming to softly press against you head as his tears subsided, "But I think I'd rather tell you how I feel from now on."

"I'd like that" you replied staring up at the male you loved so dearly, "I'd like that very much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Ahhh I love this fic so much! Thank you @sarawritestories for holding my hand and walking me through this 😂

#acotar imagine #fanfic #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra oneshot #eris vanserra imagine #eris oneshot #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris imagine #eris vanserra

[writingoddess1125]

Jessica Rabbit Effect pt. 4

So a lot of people have asked what if Crocodile & Mihawk found out about Buggys hot wife. So here we are!

Previous <<<

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Masterlist <<

• Buggy would be dragging his feet and reluctant on letting you go.. Truthfully he wanted to keep you on his little island village were you could live in ignorance and bliss. (Cause he's possessive)

• However it seemed some things couldnt be helped-

• Especially after your kidnapping attempt. So he felt safer dragging you with him to the Cross Guild meeting-

• "I'm so nervous" You admit, stepping in land as he kept you close.

• "Don't be- You'll be fine. I promise nothing will happen" He stated confidently, you assuming because these men were his friends- (While Buggy ment he'd kill to make sure no one harmed you)

• Once inside you saw them- And you damn near were ready to run back to the ship..

• They looked so much scarier in person!

• Craning your head up to meet the two massive men- Your nerves now all over the place as they just seemed to stare down at you.

• Hard-

• Your hand instinctively squeezing Buggy for reassurance.

• "Croc, Hawk- This is my Wife (Y/N)" Buggy said calmly with a hint of irriation in his voice at having them meet you at all, keeping a secure hand on your waist as you smiled softly at the two infamous men, still a bit nervous.

• "It's lovely to meet you both"

• Sir Crocodile and Mihawk exchanged puzzled glances as they stood before Buggy's wife.

• Perplexed-

• This pretty women was Buggy's wife?- Sure they had both heard rumors that she was apparently attractive but they assumed this was just Buggy's dramatic words floating around.

• However you were actually gorgeous!?

• Crocodile muttered, "Lovely to meet you as well-" Migawk nodding in greeting to you.

• "I know its a bit short notice me coming here and all, vut I made you both some gifts as a gesture of kindness" You say so sweetly as you reach into your bag and pull out the nice gifts for both of them nicely wrapped in colored tissue paper. Mentally praying Buggy's information was correct.

• Both Guild Leaders took the gifts in question- Still assuming something about this was fishy as both slowly ripped the tissue paper to take a peak at what you'd made.

• You had made a beautiful silk orange gold puff tie for Sir Crocodile since Buggy kept saying he was wearing a 'scarf' as a tie (But you knew better that it's a Puff Tie and not a scarf)

• And for Sir Mihawk you made him a white ocean cotton button down with front frills, you didn't make it as dramatic as you typically made Buggys but it was a incredibly pretty and beautiful shirt that would be comforble to wear whenever.

• Both men stared at the gifts, like they were trying to figure out what sort of trickery this was.

• "You made these?" Mihawk questioned at first,

• "I'm a seamstress" You state calmly, a bit worried they wouldn't be interested. However smiled when Crocodile complemented your craft and the quality of the tie.

• Once inside the main meeting room, conversation flowed naturally, You chatting up both men so they could become familiar with you. Even telling them the story of how you and Buggy met all those years ago.

• "Are you wanted to married him?-" Crocodile mused, taking another drag of his cigar.

• "Of course! He's so sweet afterall" Buggy looked miffed by Crocodiles words and the fact you gushed so much-

• Mihawk was the most interested in you however, taking sips of wine as he looked over you calmly.

• "Would you reconsider your marriage for a more suitable option?-" He so bluntly asked which made you blink in total surprise.

• "HEY!" Buggy yelled, Wrapping a protective arm around you as he began to yell at Mihawk for daring to 'hit on' his lovely wife- His temper definitely getting the best of him.

• Buggy throwing a full on tantrum now as he pointed a finger at Mihawk and screamed at him. The yellow eyed man grabbing his sword in warning-

• You flushed in embrassment and patted Buggys arm gently to calm him down before he got chopped to bits. "No No- I'm very happy in my marriage and love my husband dearly. I wouldn't choose anyone else-"

• Buggy stopped his little tantrum and seemed to be soothed by your gentle hands and soft words.

• Both pirates respecting such a loyal trait and moving on from such conversations.

• Both Guild Leaders found you quite enjoyable- You had wonderful humor, great in terms of conversation and essentially made up for everything your husband lacked.

• Work did take place however, Buggy and the two men talking over strategies of wealth and gaining a greater sense of power between them all.

• They did however find it irritating they couldn't beat Buggy's ass like normal- Seeing how it would upset you and the man seemed to be practically glued to you.

• By the time for you and Buggy to retire, Maps, Plans and even money had been exchanged-

• As the meeting delved later. Food and Alcohol was served, which left you full and a bit tipsy. Leaning your head on Buggy's shoulder as you soon fell asleep against him.

• "(Y/N)? Buggy said softly, claiming his arm to properly secure you against him as he saw your sleeping form.

• "Seems it's time to go our separate ways" Migawk said calmly, having finished off 4 bottles of wine himself and not too far behind you in terms of sleep. Crocodile wiping his mouth of the crumbs with a napkin as he set his near finished cigar on a ash tray.

• "Yes.." Buggy said softly, scooping you up with care.

• "....Since my wife is asleep- I need to say this to you both"

• Buggy didn't look at the two of them just stroking your hair as you slept- "I will only speak this once... If you two hurt my wife or make her upset in any way- Death will be the kindest thing I can give to you"

• They had always know Buggy hid his true abilities and simply didn't take things seriously- But they saw you were his only button.

• His only weakness-

• No words were exchanged, but a silent agreement seemed to settle on the three men.

• You were off limits.

• Buggy carried you out of the meeting hall, taking you to his private quarters so you could rest properly. Already mentally mapping out changing you into your nice PJs-

• The two men left behind watching their peer leave with his prized wife. Crocodile muttered, "How did Buggy manage to snag such a pretty and sweet wife?"

• Mihawk, equally mystified nodding in agreement.

• "It's a mystery as profound as the Grand Line itself."

Extra!-

"I can't believe those dirty bastards got you to make them clothes!" Buggy yelled, stomping his foot dramatically as he watched you sew at a purple and gold vest which clearly would belong to Crocodile by the large size.

You sitting in your favorte chair, dressed in comforble clothes as you continued to work into the evening in the home you shared with your dramatic husband.

"I make all your clothes" Gesturing to his low riding pajama pants and socks he was currently sporting. He waved this off with a dramatic eye roll-

"That's different your my wife and I still pay for your time since it's important! and they shouldnt get it fre-"

"They are paying me Buggy Boo" You cut him off quickly, taking the winds from his sails as he stopped mid rant.

"Eh?" He said confused, not knowing what you were talking about. You reach into your vanity next to you and handed your husband the letter both men had slipped you when you'd first met them in the guikd hall.

"They have me a lump some for 5 peices of clothes for each of them. 2 pairs of trousers, 2 shirts and a special item for each. For Crocodile he wanted this vest Im working on- and for Mihawk to restore a coat he liked" You explained, Buggy raising a brow at this news as he opened the letter quickly and read over how much they offered for such peices.

....

"GAHH!-"

Buggy yelled as he fell to the ground foaming at the mouth at seeing the large number.

15,000,000 Beri for each man....

He couldn't complain-

Well not about the men paying you so handsomely but about having to become the grumpy delivery man for his wife once the clothes were finished.

When he went to the meeting handing his two peers the clothes they had specially bought from you in the nice boxes youd always packed everything in.

Both men quick to open them and look over their new purchased goodies. Mihawk immediately putting on the repaired coat after seeing its quality- which was better then when he bought it.

"Tell your wife I'd like to make another commission when she has free time- I'll pay double" Mihawk said smoothing out the coat and seeing the nice gold pattern on the sleeves and nice red satin insides of the inner coat.

Crocodile adjusting his orange Puff Tie and he nodded in agreement and went through his box with great satisfaction. "Same for me as well-"

"I fucking hate you both..."

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #jessica rabbit effect #one piece buggy #op buggy

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Jade is drunk. That's it that's the story. Nah, there's some fluff and dancing with gn reader too.

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

Mostro Madness

In the midst of bright neon lights, blaring music, and a crescendo of of excited voices, you wondered if your eyes were deceiving you.

They had to be. It was the only explanation. Because the man in front of you right now could not possibly be Jade Leech

Surely, this was Floyd Leech. It couldn't be anyone else, given his current state.

Suit jacket and hat discarded, bowtie undone, shirt unbuttoned all the way down to just above his belly button, his hair an absolute mess and sticking to a face flushed red and stretched with a wide fanged smile.

Alas, Floyd was currently on the dimly lit stage to your left, singing remarkably well into the mic while swinging back and forth with a half empty glass of whiskey in hand

Therefore, unless someone had duplicated Floyd, the eel smiling at you right now was none other than Jade Leech.

Completely and utterly hammered.

"Puffball." Jade was swaying on his feet, his special pet name for you lilted and floaty on his tongue. "You look..." He giggled softly. "You look beautiful tonight."

You briefly wondered if he was pulling your leg, laughing like that, but you decided to humour him anyways.

"Thanks, Jade." You said, sickly sweet. "You look absolutely enchanting yourself, hon."

Jade's eyes widened in surprise and he covered his face with his hands, his golden eye peeking out from between his gloved fingers.

"Oh my." He slurred, giggling again. "My love is kind to me tonight."

You rolled your eyes at his sudden bashfulness. He was going to be quite embarrassed about this tomorrow (unless he decided to be happy about all that transpired) and he had nobody to blame but himself.

A friendly- if you could really call anything involving Jade friendly- drinking competition with Azul and Floyd had gone laughably awry, leaving all three of them a mess.

Azul lay spawled across one of the couches, glasses askew, with eyes as wide as saucers. He mumbled feverently to himself, ignorant of Floyd drunkenly singing on stage and Jade turning into a giggly puddle at your words.

How the twins managed to get Azul to agree to such a competition in the first place was a mystery.

Truly, the Mostro Lounge 10th Anniversary party (staff exclusively) had devolved into chaos, given the utter state of everybody else there too.

"Jade, I think you should sit down." You say, raising an eyebrow at his horribly wobbly legs.

"Hmm... nooo..?" Jade's voice slurred. "I think... I would like to dance."

"Jade, you're in no condition to walk, nevermind dance!"

Jade's smile was lopsided. "But my love, it'd the perfect time to dance. Alcohol on the tongue, a beautiful setting, romantic music in the air~"

You would hardly call Floyd snarling crude lyrics into the microphone romantic, as good as his voice was, but you hardly had the heart to say no to Jade when he looked so excited.

"Darling~" Jade gripped your hands with own. "Dance with me. Please?"

He looked at you with wide bright eyes, crocodile tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

You sigh.

"Okay. But don't whine when you topple onto your ass and bring me down with you.'

Jade didn't reply, instead opting to let out another airy giggle and pull you to his chest.

Right hand on your back and left hand intertwined with yours, Jade led you into a messy attempt at a dance that had you swinging around with erratic janky movements.

You nearly fell over a number of times from stepping on each other's feet and knocking into people and furniture.

Jade didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked utterly delighted. His sharp teeth were on full display, mouth stretched in a genuine happy smile as laughter bubbled from his chest.

It was a Jade that was on cloud nine, happy and free of care. He wasn't blackout drunk, oh no, but he was close. Enough to let go of his carefully crafted facade for a short while, surrounded by friends and loved ones.

Suddenly Jade picked you up and spun you in a circle, grinning at your shriek of surprise.

He came to a sudden stop and pulled you close once more, stroking your cheek cheek his thumb.

"I love you so much, my little puffball.' He whispered. "More than any mushroom in the world."

-End

......................................

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! I like the idea of Jade calling his s/o mushroom pet names so you're his Puffball hehe

Tagging: @krenenbaker @jadeleechisagoodboy @jaylleoo14 @hoboyherewego @officialdaydreamer00 @dadofdisappointment and @azulashengrottospiano @honey-milk-depresso for the Azul cameo ;)

#jade leech x reader #octavinelle x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #octavinelle #twisted wonderland #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #writing #one shot

[akajustmerry]

Curious to hear your takes on the new Avatar movie. It’s getting a lot of backlash for being culturally appropriative due to its casting of nearly all white actors (which I agree).

my nuanced take is that a film can be INCREDIBLE at a technical level, and be an epic cinema experience, AND be well intentioned as an anti-imperialist text, while at the same time failing to actually represent Indigeneity.

I'm an Indigenous fan of this franchise and have been since I was 15. Avatar 2 makes many of the same mistakes as the first and the layers to it are complicated. It's a white saviour narrative, it fetishises Indigenous (coded) women, it appropriates isolated aesthetics and aspects of various Indigenous cultures without cultural consultation, the majority of na'vi actors are white/non-indigenous ppl putting on ~voices~, and Avatar as a concept allegorically dehumanises Indigenous people by portraying us as aliens.

I will say that the sequel does have Cliff Curtis (who is Maori) playing a Na'vi, along with a handful of Indigenous extras, which is an improvement on than the previous. Also, Avatar 2 has a lot more Na'vi women as important characters so fetishism of the women is much less than the first (still there though). I'm aware of James Cameron's gross past "they should have fought harder" comments and I'm not excusing or condoning them. That dismissive attitude contributes to ongoing colonisation and I would have hoped a man creating a large scale anti-colonial story would know better.

Because that's the rub of it all. Avatar and Avatar 2 are explicitly anti-colonial and anti- imperialist. For all its layers of Nativism, that doesn't make it any less anti-occupation and anti-colonial. I'd argue the 2nd one doubles down on the anti-occupation angle even more than the first. The first had so many "good apples" among the invading humans, the 2nd has none. The invading force is just that, an invading force that you're not expected to sympathise with at all. You're positioned, in every way to empathise with the Na'vi.

My feelings are so complicated because at a technical level this film is a master-class of precision that pushes the boundaries of what's possible with live action VFX. Cameron and the team craft a truly immersive epic about family, solidarity, the beauty of nature and how its desicreited by colonial entitlement.

In short, a film can be both extremely Nativist and a technical masterpiece. Avatar 2 is one of those films and I'm not here to tell anyone how to feel about it. I enjoyed watching it at the movies with my best friend as someone whose an unironic enjoyer of the franchise, but I also felt disappointed that Cameron advanced the franchise at a technical level that did not extend to any genuine representation of Indigenous people.

In a strange way, it's a GREAT anti colonial story but a terrible pro-Indigenous one that demonstrates that a hatred of colonialism and respect for Indigenous peoples are (sadly) not mutually exclusive.

Always love seeing my girl Neytiri though 🥰

#avatar 2 #avatar #avatar the way of water #anon #/

[voidpetrova]

art deco — damon salvatore x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: blood, violence — angst(ish) (?)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: art was as long as life was short, something you and damon knew entirely too well.

✧.*

in the dimly lit, abandoned museum, the air hung heavy with the scent of history and dust. faint moonlight filtered through cracked windows, casting ethereal glimmers upon forgotten canvases and sculptures. every corner of the place breathed with the remnants of bygone elegance, a silent testament to a world long past. amongst this solitude, you stood, a figure of timeless grace dressed in an opulent gown that whispered of old money. the art in this decaying sanctuary spoke to you in ways only a fellow aficionado could comprehend. the cracked masterpieces adorned the walls, their colors faded yet their stories vivid. each stroke of the brush or chisel seemed to echo through the ages, a symphony of artistic expression transcending time itself.

as you moved from one masterpiece to another, your fingers brushed lightly against the gilded frames, tracing the intricate carvings that held the essence of centuries. your eyes, pools of liquid appreciation, gazed upon the paintings with a reverence usually reserved for holy relics. the strokes of genius laid bare before you – from the haunting chiaroscuro of a renaissance masterpiece to the avant-garde chaos of abstract modernism – all whispered secrets to your heart.

but amidst this silent communion with art, you couldn't help but feel a presence, a shadow that moved with grace and purpose. you turned your head, and there he stood—damon salvatore, a man of another era, his eyes a deep well of secrets. his attire, tailored to perfection, exuded the same timeless charm that you cherished in art.

he smiled, a slow and enigmatic curve of his lips that hinted at a world of knowledge hidden behind his captivating exterior. “you have exquisite taste,” he murmured, his voice a velvet melody that danced through the gallery. you inclined your head, acknowledging the compliment. “and so do you,” you replied, your eyes returning to the artwork that surrounded you.

for a while, the two of you stood there, side by side but lost in your own worlds. the art, the sculptures, the remnants of human creativity encapsulated you both, weaving an unspoken connection stronger than words could convey.

it was as if the museum itself had come alive, the masterpieces breathing, sighing, and pulsating with the essence of creativity. damon, seemingly enthralled by your presence, broke the silence. “you know,” he began, his tone almost wistful, “art isn't just what's on the canvas. It's the stories, the emotions, the beauty found in unexpected places.” you turned to him, curiosity dancing in your eyes, “elaborate.”

with a mischievous glint in his eye, damon extended his hand toward a forgotten statue tucked away in the corner. it was a fragment of antiquity, a delicate hand emerging from a block of marble, frozen in time. "this," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, “this is a masterpiece of its own. a testament to a sculptor's skill, yes, but also a tribute to the endurance of beauty. this hand, emerging from the stone, tells a story of transformation, of potential realized.”

you studied the sculpture anew, seeing it through his eyes. it was as if he'd breathed life into the lifeless, giving you a glimpse into the world beyond the surface.

as the night wore on, you and damon continued to traverse the labyrinthine corridors of art. each piece held its own unique charm, and damon, with his profound insights, revealed hidden dimensions to you. it was a dance of minds amidst a symphony of aesthetics, and you were enchanted.

but the final masterpiece of the night was yet to be unveiled, and it was not on the canvas or in the cold embrace of marble. it was the crimson masterpiece that damon had been crafting, a composition that was dark, brutal, and utterly enthralling.

in a secluded corner of the museum, far from prying eyes, the two of you stood together, surrounded by darkness and the echoes of history. damon's eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. you were not unaware of the darkness within him, the primal force that lurked beneath his charming exterior, but in this moment, it only added to the allure.

he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, his voice a seductive whisper. “art is subjective, my dear. and this, this is my masterpiece.”

before you could react, his lips met the tender skin of your neck, and the world exploded in a symphony of sensations. pain and pleasure intertwined, a chaotic dance that defied reason. as his fangs pierced your skin, you gasped, your vision blurring as a rush of ecstasy washed over you. the world around you dimmed as your senses heightened. you could hear the rhythm of your own heartbeat, the whisper of blood flowing through your veins. the metallic taste of your own life filled your mouth, and it was both repulsive and intoxicating.

damon's grip on you tightened as he drank, his movements possessive and primal. in that agonizingly beautiful moment, you realized the true essence of art – the collision of beauty and brutality, creation and destruction, life and death.

as the last vestiges of your humanity slipped away, you became a part of his masterpiece, a work of art in your own right. the abandoned museum, with its forgotten treasures, had witnessed another chapter in its history, a tale of immortal passion and boundless darkness. and in that timeless night, surrounded by the relics of a bygone era, you and damon salvatore became a living testament to the endless possibilities of art, where boundaries blurred and beauty was redefined in shades of red.

art, indeed, was subjective, and in the world of vampires, it was a canvas that knew no limits.

#tvd #tvdu #the originals #legacies #damon salvatore #damon x reader #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore angst #damon salvatore smut #damon salvatore fluff

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

I’d love a short story of spider at bridgehead with the recons and them teasing him after seeing his infatuated with a girl he sees. I just imagine him as a teenager who has not been around female humans before would stir up hormones.

Crush

Summary; Spider accidentally meets a human girl his age at Bridgehead, and thoughts of her refuse to leave his mind. To Spider’s misfortune, recoms can immediately tell.

Author’s note: I fully believe Spider could have a crush on a Na’vi, but the premise sounded like a lot of fun so here you have it! Just Spider being a silly kid lol 🥹

.

.

“Ow! What the—”

“Watch where you’re going you—”

The two fell silent when they caught a glimpse of each other. A neatly dressed girl, her style minimalist and regal…in front of a boy with dirty army camouflage pants and a head of poorly twisted dreads. The youth in their features was undeniable, they couldn’t be far apart in age.

“…who…who are you?” Spider asked, his previous sass gone. He’d seen old humans, and seen young children, but a teenager? That was new.

“Deliah.” She turned her gaze to her clothes, dusting them off. “And you?”

“…Spider.”

The girl smiled, amused. “Spider? That’s your real name?”

Socorro stood. “Got a problem with it?”

“Not really, it’s just kinda silly. I like it.” She brushed her curls behind the ear. “Are you native then? Thought I was the only kid in this hole.”

“Yeah, I’m Pandorian.”

Deliah took liberty to circle the blonde, her attention on the hand-crafted beads in his hair. “Are you…like, a Na’vi?”

“Culturally, yeah.”

She grinned. “Wow! I heard grown ups talk about some "wildling" found in the forest, but didn’t believe them. How’d you survive??”

Spider noticed that he had a hard time turning his eyes away from hers. They were dark like his…and beautiful, glowing in the light steaming from a nearby window. Her attention felt strange. He wanted all and none of it at the same time.

Blood rushed to his cheeks. “I…uh, I dunno. It’s not that difficult once you learn how to keep up.”

“Is it true Na’vi don’t wear clothes?” She giggled.

“What!?“

“Sorry, was that rude?”

“Kinda. We do, just not much. Jungle gets hot, wearing too much can cause a heat-stroke.”

“Oooh, right, sorry, got it. It’s like a survival thing.”

“Yeah…”

Deliah had a pleasant voice, one akin to a light rain after the storm, or a calm stream on a sunlit morning. The sound of her made something flutter in Spider’s stomach, like he swallowed a flock of butterflies.

“….so…you’re like…what?”

She giggled again, what is so funny to her? Is she making fun of me? The boy thought as his face grew redder and heart kept pounding for a reason he could not understand. All he knew is that he wanted to run as far as possible from this person and hide, as well as stay in her presence forever.

“I’m mixed, kinda like most people around here. My mom’s a vice-rep and she wanted me off Earth asap, so now I’m here…dying of boredom instead of smoke.” She rocked on her heels.

“Was it scary? Leaving it all behind?”

“I um…didn’t have many friends.”

“Relatable.” He rubbed his neck.

Deliah raised her brows, her head side-ways. “Na’vi don’t like you?”

“Kinda, but it’s not because I’m human. It’s my ancestry…my squad’s small but we tight. They’re my ride or die.”

“Oh, hope you get to go home soon then..”

Spider smiled sadly. Just as he thought; she didn’t know he was kept here as a prisoner of war. It made the boy wonder what else RDA higher-ups hid from their people to keep them in line.

“But, while you’re here…do you um…since we’re the only human kids for miles—”

“Spider, what the hell did I tell you about wandering off?” A loud voice boomed across the corridor, making both children flinch. Spider turned with a grimace, meeting a cold gaze of his father’s clone.

“Who’s that guy??” Deliah whispered, half-hiding behind the boy. Her touch on his shoulder was soft, and her hand so delicate compared to his…

“Socorro, get your ass over here!”

“Okay okay! Fine…” Spider groaned, before throwing a last look at Deliah. “Goodbye.”

“Where are you going?”

“I Wasn’t supposed to be here. I’m usually in the military block. Just wanted to explore a bit.”

“So…you won’t come back?” The girl’s full lips pursed in a slight frown.

Spider felt a sudden tug on his bicep and whipped his head to see a blue hand wrapped around it, dragging him off. Quaritch’s gaze minutely fixed on the girl, who initially shrunk under it, then tried to assert herself by crossing her arms, but Miles couldn’t be fooled; she was a child.

A girl. In Bridgehead. Talking to Spider.

Oh Lord.

“Let go! I can walk on my own!” The kid hissed when the two entered an elevator. He then noticed Quaritch throwing mischievous glances his way. “What??”

“You sly dog.” He smirked.

“What!?!”

.

Time in Bridgehead never passed this slow. Spider couldn’t wait to be back where he belongs; in the forest, where he could somewhat forget he was a hostage.

And forget about her.

Spider rolled over on the bunk, face in his pillow. Three days have passed and Deliah still plagued his thoughts. How? Why? He’d never know. It must have been out of boredom. That was it. Just boredom.

Not at all her beautiful voice or shining curls or big eyes or that smile…

“Missing your girlfriend again?”

“OH FUCK OFF!!”

Maybe Spider would have already forgotten if not for recombinants. He’d have to slit Miles’s throat for spinning them a twisted version of their conversation. You should have seen this, he told his colleagues. This boy was whipped, ready to propose right then and there!

“So you were huh.” Lyle chuckled, leaning on the doorframe. “Pouting won’t make it better. Get up, breakfast is serving.”

The mess had been loud as usual, but as Spider sat to reluctantly eat an RDA prepared meal, something caught his attention.

A head of dark brown curls in the crowd.

Before the kid even knew it, he stood up, then climbed onto his seat to get a better look. Could it be…

“It’s not her, Spider. That Deliah girl is high rank, but still civilian. She’d never be let in here.” Miles pressed a hand on his shoulder, forcing Socorro back down.

Zdog giggled. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Shut up.” The kid pouted. “We had only one conversation. I’m not like, in love or anything.”

“You sure look like it…she did too.” Miles nudged him.

The boy gasped. “She was just being nice.”

“She was twirling her hair and giggling at your every word, that’s the clearest "I like you" I’ve ever seen.”

Spider blushed. Deliah wouldn’t like a boy from the forest. Why? He was a total opposite to her, a "princess" from Brideghead, with her neat clothes and golden jewellery and glowing skin and…

“Oh great, Romeo’s off into the clouds again.” Lopez rolled his eyes.

“You’re unbearable.” Spider growled, digging into his disgusting porridge. The faster he ate, the faster he could escape this embarrassing exchange with immature soldiers who seemingly had nothing better to do than to pick on him.

“You want me to take you along next time I report to the investors?” Lyle teased. “Maybe she’d be there~~”

“Lyle I didn’t ask you—…wait…really?”

The table erupted in guffaws and Socorro’s face turned as red as a tomato. He wanted to die.

“Dawwww~!” Ja mused. “This is too cute.”

“I HATE all of you!”

.

.

#atwow #atwow spider #spider atwow #avatar spider #spider avatar #spider socorro #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #avatar quaritch #avatar recoms #miles quaritch

[bung3665]

Some Dynamics and Character Lore From GGZ

Given the title, this won't cover everything, especially the dynamics that are present for GGZ-only characters, but I thought I'd make a post for Hi3 characters that are present in GGZ for those of you who like to draw fanart/write fanfiction. As well as the fact that I like talking about GGZ.

Fair warning: this is going to be long, I have a bad habit of going into too much detail on things like this, so please bear with me.

For this post in particular, I was going to focus on multiple characters but this ended up being so long I relegated to it just being about Kiana and Mei, and more specifically two versions of them. I might make a follow up post for Bronya/Seele/Sin at another time.

Trigger warning for attempted suicide below. I feel like I should include this just in case.

Short introduction but that's all I have to say before diving into the material.

Kiana/Mei

It shouldn't really be a surprise that Kiana's greatest dynamic is with Mei and only Mei. The two are a lot more blatant with their feelings and relationship in GGZ. However, their relationship is also more tumultuous than in Hi3. They are a good example of doomed yuri, besides the ending to the Reborn storyline, which is bittersweet at the least and good at the most.

The writing of GGZ carries the same theme as Honkai 3rd, fighting against the fate of the world and for all that's beautiful. GGZ tends to explore the darker aspects to this setting, often times mixing in heavier themes while doubling down on the struggles of the characters. At times, it can be almost over the top, but I think its cohesive and still a finely crafted story.

It should come as no shocker that Kiamei is the primary ship of GGZ, it's outright confirmed that they love each other at points throughout the story. Sometimes it is for lesbian bait, but on the whole I think their writing is good and the way they rely on each other for support is nice.

Kiana and Mei are more grounded in GGZ, if I had to word it. They're still incredibly resilient, but there are times where they crack mentally. It happens to Kiana more than it does to Mei (save for the last arc, where it's all about Mei suffering), but seeing them work through these things does deepen the bond they have.

Now with all that said, let's move on to the actual content of this post.

Retrospective

Retro is the story you play when you first start the game, this is the "first half" of GGZ's story in some regard. GGZ's story and setting is divided into separate eras, with the main two being Retrospective and Reborn. Era Zero, taking place before both of them, was never fully completed unfortunately.

In Retro, Kiana and Mei initially start off on the wrong foot. Mei is sort of hostile towards Kiana (a result of her becoming a Herrscher) and Kiana is a bit insensitive to Mei on introduction, but after learning about Mei's past, Kiana manages to get through to Mei after their battle and the two make up.

Will put it out there that much like Kiana in the Hi3 mangas and early Hi3 story, she's a perv here. Yet her crush on Mei is a genuine thing.

Things calm down for a while, but when Bronya enters the picture and Mei begins to dote on her like a big sister, Kiana gets a little...possessive, and jealous. She's quite immature when it comes to romance in Retro. And while Mei is more serene about things she does care for Kiana too.

The two have their own unresolved matters, however. For Kiana, it's finding her dad who went missing when she was young (note: Kiana in GGZ is not a clone like in Hi3, this is the real and original Kiana Kaslana). And for Mei, it's regarding Ryoma's sentencing and his ties to Anti-Entropy. The two bring it up at points and reassure each other that they will find their dads which is sweet.

Things take a turn for the worse when Cocolia attacks St. Freya with the Moonlight Throne battleship. When the ship crashes into the church where the furnace containing the core of the second Herrscher is (yeah they stored Sirin's core there), Kiana somewhat fuses with the core and has a complete mental breakdown when Cocolia reveals the truth about Siegfried and how Kiana murdered him when she accidentally became a Herrscher while young.

This causes Kiana to become a Herrscher due to the rising amounts of Honkai energy in her body. If you're wondering about Cocolia, she dies by heading into the Honkai furnace and gets swallowed up by all the Honkai.

Kiana kills everyone after becoming the Herrscher of Finality (or Herrscher of The End, Final Herrscher etc), and the last person she kills is Mei.

It's a sad scene through and through, and the CGs are great. Even more so because at the end, when Kiana and Mei are floating above the world, Kiana still cries while the world ends.

See you in the next world originates from this scene. Very good piece of music.

So what happens after? The world ends, Mei and everyone die, but what happens to Kiana?

Kiana became a puppet for the Honkai, even after the initial catastrophe that occurred at St. Freya, small groups of people managed to survive the world-wide Honkai eruption. But they too would be wiped out by Kiana.

She didn't move, she didn't think anymore, and she had no emotion. Only when the Honkai needed her to kill whatever remnants of civilization rose up did she move.

This carried on for hundreds of years, or tens of thousands, but by the end Kiana had killed all of humanity.

And then she regained her consciousness and was faced with the reality of how many she had killed and how much blood she had spilled. To save herself from the suffering she tried to end her life, but because she was a Herrscher, she was immortal.

No one could kill Kiana, not even Kiana herself. When Kiana realized this fact she gave up all resistance. She deluded her mind with memories of the past and paralyzed herself on the spear she had impaled herself with, until the day Honkai disappeared from the world.

Quite the terrible end. I won't be covering Reborn in this post, but I thought it would be cool to write about the Fire Moth DLC side story, since their relationship in that story builds off of Retro.

Fire Moth

To understand Kiana and Mei's relationship in Fire Moth, you first need an understanding of the setting. The events of Fire Moth happen during Reborn's story, during the story chapters as a matter of fact.

But Fire Moth itself technically takes place in a stigma space where the world has turned desolate five years after Kiana became a Herrscher and destroyed everything. It should be noted that this is the world contained in the stigma space, so the setting of the story is not taking place in the real world. The backstories and characters are acting upon how they were in Retro (and were materialized by Kyuushou's memories of them).

This is Kyuushou's stigmata space, and she has the stigmata of both Kiana and Mei from Retro. Hence why this world bears so much familiarity to Retro.

Most life on the surface is dead, and the survivors in Nagazora have banded together to form the organization "Fire Moth", or "Moth Who Chases The Flame", under the leadership of an older Bronya.

Houraiji Kyuushou is the protagonist of Fire Moth, and you play through the story as her amnesiac self. Kiana is still the Final Herrscher, and rather than a being who is carrying out the Honkai's will endlessly, or someone who still has enough emotion and humanity to cry, this Kiana has gone deep into nihilism and has become devoid of most emotion.

This is a Kiana who knows what happened thousands of years ago and guilt has eaten away at her and left her with nothing.

CG of Kiana when Kyuushou first meets her in a dream.

To get a good idea of what Kiana and Mei are going through in Fire Moth, how about this short conversation I machine-translated. Might be inaccurate, I don't know Chinese that well! But hopefully it helps. Some of it has been taken from Guns Girl Z Cutscene Interpreter as well, I translated some of the text that was still in Chinese.

(Mei's text is purple, and Kiana's is blue).

Mei…what would you do if the world didn't fall apart?

If it hadn't collapsed...

I would probably have been like an ordinary girl, studying something I like, enrolling in a university I wished to go to, and then starting my own family, and walking through a happy and uneventful life with the person I love.

Kiana, what about you?

For me…as long as I'm with Mei, I'm already satisfied.

Really…don't say such embarrassing things...If it's Kiana then there must be something more worthy of pursuing.

If it's the old me…I do have hundreds of wishes I want to fulfill...

I wanted to attend the same school as Mei, eat our bento together under a cherry blossom tree, and spend our entire lunch break lazily.

I want to travel around the world with Mei, take pictures of us in beautiful landscapes, and keep our figures in a precious photo album forever.

I want to build a small cabin by the sea with Mei, watch the tide rise and fall together, collect seashells on the sand blown by the sea breeze together, and then fall asleep under the embrace of the moonlight.

There are so many more wishes…well there are so many more plans too..

But now…

I just want to stay by your side quietly like this forever.

Mei...please give me your hand.

Yes...

If it's possible, will you stay with me until the end of the world?

Kiana…thank you.

Thank you for loving me so much. For protecting me so much.

But both of us, no, we all, we all understand.

That this is a long-cherished wish that simply cannot be fulfilled.

Because...because all of it...has been destroyed by your hands.

Every promise has been turned into ash... and we can never go back.

I'm so sorry Kiana...I'm so sorry.

It's time for us to say our farewells...

(Kiana alone with Mei's ribbon).

...

I understand.

In fact, I understand it better than anyone.

This is the mistake I made...I've destroyed our future with my own hands.

Such an ending is the best punishment for me.

Alone in a world without you. Even death is too kind for me.

(There's a little bit more to this scene, but it's not relevant to this post).

During the final battle between Kiana and Mei (they're both in the same nihilistic and existential boat here, so naturally they are the two overarching antagonists), when Mei falls in battle, Kiana bids her farewell and calls Mei her "only regret".

At the end of Fire Moth, Kyuushou manages to reignite Kiana's wish from forty-two thousand years ago, which was to bring hope to the world. What Kiana was chasing all this time was a sliver of hope in a world that gave her none.

Kiana relinquishes her existence after their battle, so she along with Mei disappear from the world entirely. No one remembers them and nobody recognizes their names. Kyuushou remarks that Kiana's dream was to live in a world without Honkai, a sentiment echoed by both Kiana and Mei.

Fun fact: if you 100% all of Fire Moth, you get this wonderful CG of the two.

Conclusion

If you made it this far, thanks. I'm a bit out of my element when writing things like this, so if you have any questions on anything I'd be happy to answer them. I appreciate GGZ a lot, so making this was fun and I hope I can do more of it for the others.

I have a nagging feeling this was a bit too long, so I apologize for that. I ended up explaining a lot of GGZ's lore when this was mainly supposed to be about relationship dynamics...oops.

But to summarize, Kiana and Mei's relationship isn't entirely different from what they have in Hi3, but just like in Hi3 they have their own struggles and nuances. Mostly in the formed of doomed yuri but that's beside the point. I like their relationship in GGZ, at times its as simple as a few exchanges before a battle, and at others its the crux of the story itself.

With all that being said, I hope you enjoyed the read!!

#honkai impact #honkaimpact3rd #honkai gakuen #guns girl z #honkai #kiana kaslana #raiden mei #hi3 #kiamei

[emmartian]

The three perfect things this year to keep me living much much more.

Armored Core VI Fires of Rubicon - From Software

I have a soft spot for games where “you” start so low: a corpse, an addict cop fell from grace, a drained bounty hunter sent to a planet alone to get her soul eaten by somehow gentle parasites. 

Armored Core 6 puts you in a body bag and promises to give you a meaning.

The game makes you feel in pain, both physically and mentally, yet you dance the fastest legs exquisitely, while the voices in your brain implants seem to notice you, to worry about you, to tell you you're an artist that can crave for even more.

You choose a how to see if you’re still here. And so, you fly high the miserable sky.

The Boy and the Heron - Studio Ghibli

I’ve read a lot of words about The Boy and the Heron by this point, looking to praise it by finding hidden sources, mysterious meanings and cultural roots behind its attributed “unorthodox” narrative. But I doubt this given depth was THAT intentional.

To me, this film might be the peak of Hayao Miyazaki’s philosophy for process and creation which is well known that doesn’t allow a glimpse of restraint. First and foremost, dealing with a canonical script.

A choice that brings freedom and obsession. A way to live, instead a way to create, to be the stories we tell ourselves. I strongly believe this is what the film exhales. Depth and meaning by making brilliant collaborators invested with the nurtured concepts in his brain. Depth and meaning by making us fall for the intense personality of such a hard work overall.

To grasp a gap in the system you have to be so bold. And I can't wait for what comes next.

A Guest in the House - Emily Carroll

As dear homie Sloane Leong says in her quote, a Guest in the House is a very sophisticated character study coded as a horror tale, with exquisite art, prose and pacing. 100% Emily’s trademark.

Personally, I still can't stop smiling at how it philosophically reads as an essay about evasion. On how skipping reality can be empowering and healing, and more than anything, romantic; even if, you know, it takes you to the grou… Please don't mind me.

Hide from hideous, grasp a glimpse of justice, make the self you want to be, legit. Toxic. The knight or the ghost. In Emily’s safe HUB, the guts spill into refined erotic scenarios that make the average the most dreadful place to be.

Anyway. You don't do a book on this scale alone, to save the day. The accurate craft still feels like a scream. It's the kind of work that saves the medium by making creators unsafe. Please consider reading it and support it. Emily’s writing truly is precious.

She also did a beautiful Bloodborne short out of love this year. For the fans!

#armored core vi #the boy and the heron #a guest in the house #from software #emily carroll #hayao miyazaki #emma ríos

[elwenyere]

Crafting Comments on Fics

So with Comment Fest approaching - and with the possibility of bot-generated comments undermining the value of reader-writer engagement - I thought it might be helpful to provide a short explanation of some different approaches I use in crafting comments, in order to identify a few places to get started for anyone who has wanted to leave more (or more detailed) comments but who feels unsure how to get going. 

This is far from an exhaustive list, and the categories are designed to allow for a mix-and-match construction with varying levels of development (from basic to more elaborate). At the heart of it, I think of commenting as a practice of paying attention to what I notice in a story and then crafting language to share those observations with the writer. So each of these categories starts from something we might notice when we read.

1. Affect: how the fic affected you/made you feel

This is a great place to start if commenting feels intimidating, because you’re drawing from your own emotional responses. A basic template might be something like “_____ made me ________.” You can pick a particular moment (the scene with the tooka infestation, the kiss in the Denny’s parking lot, the moment we realize character x was dead the whole time, etc.) or focus on the fic as a whole; and you can describe the effect in simple terms (made me cry, smile, laugh, feel soft, etc.) or extravagant ones (made me want to roll myself into the sea, made me feel like I had ascended to a new astral plane, shook me so deeply it registered a 10.3 on the Richter scale). The idea is to take one or more responses you had to the fic and let the writer know what they were/what about the story produced them. 

2. Memory: what from the fic has stuck with you

If a story has an especially strong effect on you, you might also let the author know what particular moments, lines, or images are going to linger in your mind after you finish reading. After identifying the detail(s) you want to flag (if you were going to bookmark this fic with a note to remind Future You which one it is, what image or scene or plot premise or line of dialogue would go in the “the one with the ___________” slot?), you can describe the way it’s sticking with you in general terms (I’m still thinking about it, chewing on it, rotating it like a Hot Pocket in a microwave), or you can point to some of the reasons why it’s sticking with you (it captures character x’s whole deal so well, it reminds me of y moment in the film/tv show/comic, it crystallizes a larger theme in the story so effectively). 

3. Appreciation: what in the fic seems beautiful, artful, striking

In this approach you’re giving a writer a sense of what stood out to you aesthetically about the story: the moments that made you feel like “put a frame around that fucker because I want to keep staring at it.” This category can feel tricky because there might be terminology specific to the form that we’re not familiar with, so it can feel hard to describe what exactly makes a moment strike us as well-crafted. But we might think about the appreciation approach as having a basic template: “_____ is so ________.” The first slot can be either general (the whole story, a larger scene, the way the author writes dialogue or description or a major character) or very specific (copying and pasting a particular line or passage, identifying a pattern of imagery, pointing out the way the author narrates a specific kind of experience). And the second slot can be just one adjective (beautiful, visceral, unsettling, powerful, stunning, lyrical) or a more elaborate evaluation (so effective at conveying emotions, so hard-hitting after the slow build-up, so vivid I feel like I’m actually there). 

4. Discovery: what the fic showed you/made you think about

Sometimes you read a fic that makes you think about the media/the ship/the characters in a new way, and that’s a really powerful thing to share with the writer. As with the other approaches, you can frame this in terms of the fic as a whole or pull out particular lines or plot points, and you can either describe the effect on your thinking in general terms (this changed my brain chemistry, this blew my mind, this is canon for me now) or in specific ones (I’d never thought about x moment in the film that way before, but now I’m going to think about it that way every time; the line where character x says y was like a lightbulb moment for me - it clarified so much about x’s motivations; I would never have thought about this show as being about z theme, but after reading this fic, I’m seeing z everywhere). 

------

So there you have it: a non-exhaustive list of things we notice about stories and some ways to talk about that. I hope it’s helpful. And of course, when in doubt or when pressed for energy, a string of emojis, a keyboard smash, or an all-caps “I LOVED THIS!!!” are also wonderful ways to share a little love with fic writers.

#ao3 #comment fest

[writingquestionsanswered]

Any advice to write your own quotes that is not so common?

Learning to Write Memorable/Quotable Prose

As readers, we know there are few things better than reading a quote that hits in all the right ways...

"The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections." —Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

“Brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you go on even though you’re scared.” —Angie Thomas, The Hate U Give

As writers, part of the dream is to be able to craft quotes that resonate with our readers like that... quotes that will be quoted... quotes that will be remembered.

Unfortunately, learning to write quotable prose isn't something you can do immediately just by following a few tips. It requires a few thing that take some time...

1 - A Fertile Mind - A big part of being able to write quotable prose is having a fertile mind... or in other words, giving your brain all the right elements it needs to be able to produce quotable prose. Here are some things you can do to encourage a fertile mind:

-- Filling Your Creative Well ensures that your brain is full of words, ideas, and imagery that will help you think up memorable quotes.

-- Improve your vocabulary by using a thesaurus (just make sure to cross-reference with a dictionary), subscribing to Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day e-mails, buying a "word of the day" desk calendar, using a reference like The Describer's Dictionary or the Random House Word Menu, and reading as much as you can--books, short stories, poetry, magazines, blog posts, song lyrics, anything you can get your hands on. Read through lists of vocabulary related to specific things, like geography, weather, architecture, travel, etc. Keep a journal of new words and their meanings as well as words that resonate with you.

-- Bring out your inner poet by reading poetry (there's a ton of poetry available for free online), reading song lyrics, and trying to write your own poetry.

-- Fill your mind with beautiful imagery by traveling... in person, if you can, but if you can't, YouTube makes it super easy to be an armchair traveler. There are countless beautiful videos of every place on Earth you could ever want to visit. There are travel documentaries, montages of beautiful scenery, walk-throughs, and tours. You can also go to a photo site like Pexels or Pixabay and type in random imagery terms like "mountains" or "starry night" and see what images come up. Save the ones that speak to you most in a pretty folder.

2 - Practice - Even with a full creative well and fertile mind, you're still not going to be able to instantly craft beautiful prose or memorable quotes. You still need to hone this skill through lots of practice. That's going to mean trying to craft beautiful prose and memorable quotes, which is going to mean writing a lot of not-so-great ones before they get better and better. Try looking at some of those pretty images you saved and see if you can write some pretty quotes about them. Look at the list of interesting vocabulary you saved and see if you can use any of it to craft a pretty quote. Take a pretty line of poetry or a evocative song lyric and try to craft it into a memorable quote. And more than anything else... just write your stories and always try to craft beautiful prose and memorable sentences. The more you try, the better you'll get.

3 - Have a story that merits pretty prose and memorable quotes - The truth of the matter is that even if you do everything listed above, you still won't be able to craft pretty prose and memorable quotes unless your story provides you the necessary raw materials. You need an engaging plot, compelling characters, interesting themes, quote-worthy imagery in plot elements and setting, and both characters and circumstances where memorable quotes make sense.

If you do all of these things, though, you'll be writing pretty prose and memorable quotes in no time! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

[mitochondriencocktail]

i absolutely love your fic with older bojere! we don't really have many fics like that, and it's so refreshing and sweet. could you name your top ten favorite bojere fics?

AHHHH thank you!! I'm honestly such a sucker for them being middle aged and would love to write a proper fic about them one day... even if it's just a one-shot. Something about the beauty of a love that has matured and settled into its foundation... but also the joy of rediscovering love later in life after you think your prime has passed.

As for my top 10, this took some brainpower... There are SO many talented writers in this fandom and it goes without saying that a lot of the notable ones (private landing, camboy AU, 24k bojere space AU, others that my sieve of a brain cannot recall right now) are definitely on there, so I wanted to try and showcase some others that are less talked about :)

So, in no particular order:

hukun täällä lakanoihin by @sepetajmikolikomehoces (banger after banger from her)

Tarkotin sua by @frikatilhi (this take on the soulmate trope was DELIGHTFUL)

The perfect date by @dreaminofu (The pacing in this was DELICIOUS and the tension built so beautifully)

A Stolen Heart by robohippie on AO3 (I looove the world building in this and the commitment to the style of writing)

5+1 Times Bojan Kissed A Boy by @electron-road-suspect (I'm an absolute sucker for the 5+1 trope and also just any story about Bojan coming to terms with his sexuality, so this was a delight)

here, there and everywhere by @oneshotdepresso (well first of all this fic brought us together... but also I am OBSESSED with this concept and how CD put it together)

non-disclosure agreement by @alien-girl-21 (I'm really a sucker for an AU that builds out the world, and this one also crafted the build-up between Jere and Bojan so well!)

I'm barely breathin' (trying to stay afloat) by anonymous on AO3 (Again, the pacing and build-up in this one delight me)

and my road took you from me by anonymous on AO3 (Short and sweet and poignant. I really enjoy the tone of voice in this one)

Fanfiction of Käärijä and the Bojan by anonymous on AO3 (I knoooow this one looks like I'm adding it as a joke, but I'm actually not HAHA. Humor is so hard to write honestly, and OP committed to the fucking bit which I respect the hell out of. It's short but plays with the meta-textual knowledge we all have of BoJere, Jere's speech patterns, habits etc and it does it SO well HAHA.)

This is by no means an exhaustive list and if I had all the time in the world, I'd probably keep adding more. As you can see, I (personally, which is not the end all be all of writing!!!) really love a fleshed out world, thoughtful pacing, and strong writing style.

I also didn't include PWPs because man I'd have a whole separate list for those, but I hope people can check out some of these if they haven't already :) MWAH <3

#bojere

[blingblong55]

Simon as a civilian

Headcannoning all this:

Simon Riley likes to spend his days off working out and if he has nothing else to do, he will make small things out of clay.

Has a shelf of things he's made over the years and this is because it helps with his anger/temper issues. His therapist told him it was either he takes the medication or he would dedicate time to something that requires time and patience.

Now, he has a room in his home where he makes stuff. It's not normal-looking stuff by any means but it's like Adam(North of the Border/Youtube guy) kind. He takes pride in making 'Tiny Nerdy Things' and is well known in the arts and crafts store where he buys all materials, tools and other stuff. He even subscribes to all those YouTube channels that make dioramas and even leaves comments because this is genuinely something that interests him and believe it or not, he makes stuff for the other men in the task force.

With that said, I like to believe that when Simon retires, this would be what he would do most days, that and fixing the yard because he has the manpower for that. I also believe he would live in the countryside and would have enough space for a dog or two and would even make them cosy dog houses and the old lady that lives nearby would be his sitter for when he goes to visit some friends.

Talking about the old lady, she would be great friends with Simon and when he found out she too spent her days alone, he and her started to hang out more, which leads to shared dinners and stories. Occasionally, Simon spends days over at her place fixing stuff around and making her home more comfortable for someone her age. He sees his mum in her and he will do anything for this elderly woman and her cat, which he later calls his cat too.

When she ends up visiting her children elsewhere, she gives Simon the keys and he happily leaves some of his 'Tiny nerdy things' around for her to see. She compliments him a lot, "You made this? Oh my, you have so much talent." Simon gets excited over this and although no one understands why, she does and she keeps saying it over.

He feels comfortable around her and he never wears his mask, Ghost is out there but Simon is here.

When Christmas arrives, her kids come over, grandkids included, she phones Simon and when he answers he smiles as he hears her invitation to come to the family dinner. "I don't know why you are alone, you know family eats together." This was enough to make him so excited that he ran to his room, found a cosy jumper and nice trousers, fixed his hair and took out the biscuits he made (Price's wife had to come over to teach him how to make them) and runs down to the old lady's home.

At night, she hands him a gift. Turns out the entire time she was knitting, it was a jumper for him and his dogs to match in. Little skulls and paws decorated the jumper. When she opens his gift to her, she finds two ornaments. One with her cat and the Grinch, long story short she told Simon her cat and she would watch the Grinch movies with her late husband. The second ornament was one of his proudest makings, her home, covered in snow and two tiny figures on the frown yard. Simon and her, the cat and the two dogs.

She tears up a little and she says, "You know, this is very beautiful and I will have this on my shelf all year long. You are a good son." The last comment made Simon tear up too and he, like a clingy child, stays beside her all dinner long.

Also, he is the type of guy to visits that specific store for all his materials that he knows the owner, he helps other customers and even says, "No mate, that clay would last and it cracks, try this one instead." This man will walk around the store and give reviews to others and give them better recommendations which do help and now people try and find him around the store for advice and tips.

A/N: tell me why I really do picture him, night and day making small things and nodding his head and going, "Yeah, this is coming better than I expected." Just for him to downplay and be like, "It's bad, the thing didn't come out great and I wanted to make this green but the brush wasn't small enough." (I do this when I create stuff with clay)

#simon riley call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley headcanons #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost riley imagine #cod #simon ghost riley headcanons

[meadowlarkx]

Some March fic recs!

For Tolkien Fanfic Reading Month! Limiting myself to stories I read in March (but posted anytime). (header by Anna Zakharova on Unsplash)

picnic by @swanmaids - A bored and reckless Aredhel goes to Vána's orchards seeking adventure and has an experience. This lush and sexy fic feels like a warm summer afternoon. I love how seductive and eerie Vána is here!

Kiss and Marry by @thecoolblackwaves - Have you ever looked at Celegorm and Curufin and thought, "They should be the stars of a romcom"? No? This fic is here to reveal that wonder to you.

弄假成真 by Divano_Messiah - Maglor has been telling people at school that he has a boyfriend. Maedhros is jealous until he learns who it is. (I admit I read this via google translate, you can too...)

Envy by @polutrope - In Tirion, Maglor and Elemmírë struggle to handle each other's reputations with equanimity. The people around them try to respond. This fic is so funny and sweet--I love this take on Elemmírë and Fëanor's guest appearance is hilariously him.

Youthful Regrets by kitkatkaylie - Turgon and Maglor fall in love in Valinor before Turgon's engagement to Elenwë. I really like the personality contrasts of this ship, with Turgon opening up to Maglor, and how this story sketches out their relationship through the whole arc of Silm to its bitter separation.

I risk my life to make my name by @maironsbigboobs - The brave knight Galadriel goes on a journey to meet the Green Woman Melian and her fate, ft. adventures along the way. I love how Tolkien is blended with Arthurian conventions here--it works so well and brings out the myth vibes of Silm that I love so much!

Strange Currencies chapter 12 by @jouissants - This is such a beautifully-crafted tale in every regard, but I want to especially mention this flashback chapter I read in March, covering Maedhros' and Maglor's voyage on the swan ships up to just before Fëanor's death. The horror of the Fëanorian Noldor arriving in the dark with their distrust, inflated ego, and total lack of knowledge of Middle-earth comes through here so, so vividly--this part can be read by itself, go check it out!!

Oubliette by Stramonium - Horrifying and so vividly written scene of Maedhros in Angband, isolation, and monstrosity. Poetic and awful, I can't do it justice in summarizing it.

arrangement for flute and harp by @jouissants - Maedhros is determined to work late, so Maglor and Fingon decide to entertain each other. The Himring atmosphere and incredible character dynamics make this also really sexy smut such a wonderful story.

whatever you would crave by @eight-pointed-star - Sooo sexy ficlet in which Fingon and Maedhros attend to Maglor's Needs. Short but immensely powerful.

scherzo for ink and parchment by @dovewifes - Charming and comedic missives exchanged between Maedhros and Maglor during the Long Peace, ft. romantic endearments and the invention of emojis. Maedhros' so-apparent love for Maglor is something I especially cherish about this fun fic.

Star-kissed by @aipilosse - Celeborn of Doriath rescues recently-of-Gondolin (and silver-haired!) Celebrimbor from a predicament in Nan Dungortheb. Incredibly clever, funny, and hot!

Purification by @zealouswerewolfcollector - Thingol is curious about Maedhros: throne sex ensues. A favorite ship of mine in a flavor I'd never considered. Incredibly intense and super well-written.

Comfort from a Heavy Hand by @undercat-overdog - After the Bragollach, Mablung tends to an injured Beleg, and they seek comfort together. The wreckage and destruction of the battle feels so vivid in this one, and the dynamic of Beleg/Mablung as past teacher and student (and current battle companions) is wonderful.

Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow by @welcomingdisaster - A brilliant installment in an ongoing Children of Húrin AU series that has the most beautiful, unsettling, and dreamlike atmosphere. In this fic Maedhros teaches "Cáno" about pleasure in preparation for their marriage bed. Catnip to me personally!!

Proxy by @aipilosse - Celebrimbor comes to reproach Celegorm in Nargothrond after Finrod's departure. They fuck. Gender, tension, messy and complicated emotional dynamics all around. The dirty talk is so so good.

Star of the Nevrast Shore by joanofarcstan - Silmarillion filk of one of my favorite folk songs! What more is there to say!! A sweet tale of Gondolin told from Voronwë's point of view, recounting the love between him, Tuor (the star of the Nevrast shore), Idril, and Maeglin.

A Light Burns in the Forest by fictional_hr_department - Thranduil and Oropher escape Menegroth with child Elwing. The title and art by @lycheesodas give me chills and the atmosphere of the fic as they make their disorienting journey to Sirion really brings to life the terrible aftermath of the second kinslaying.

By Your Side by HiyoriTomioka - fem!Eärendil and Elwing support each other in this ficlet... such a good vision of this ship, and the way Eärendil thinks about Tuor and Idril here with longing uncertainty makes me think of a trans!Eärendil even though that is not explicit.

Something Sleepless in Mirkwood by @imakemywings - Thranduil sickens as the Greenwood does. Elrond tries to heal him, but can't understand at first what's happening. Brilliant and canon-compliant (To Me) wry, proud, and eerie woodland king Thranduil--go give this a read!

A boat, my boat, out upon the River by Tethys_resort - Sméagol is trying to craft his own boat to take fishing. His family keeps getting in the way. This sweet fic paints such an idyllic picture of proto-Hobbit life and made me really feel the tragedy of Gollum.

The Fortress by TheLegendCreator - Brief and haunting fic in which a Dwarf visits the ruins of Himring and they have a conversation. I love the view this offers of Maedhros and the fierce loyalty Himring and its folk had for him.

one whole with my other by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor - Indis' marriage to Finwë is transferred to bind her instead to reembodied Míriel. This turns out to be a good thing. An incredibly touching, beautifully wrought and worldbuilt story. I just love it so much.

The Number One Exercise for Relieving Work-Related Stress (Click to Find Out!) by @imakemywings - Date night in Mirkwood. Maglor (Noldorin princess, ex-kinslayer) adorns herself for the benefit of Thranduil (the Elvenqueen)--or that's her plan, anyway. This story is so sexy, so funny, and honestly so touching. I just adore this ship as a happy ending for Maglor and their relationship is gorgeously fleshed out here.

Cousin, Sister, Lover, Queen by broken_pencils - Lesbian Éowyn discovers desire... through Éomer's betrothed Lothíriel. Lothíriel is a stealth fav for me from the Éomer fics I used to read as a kid and I really enjoyed her here, and the lush atmosphere of this story.

His Return by @danmeiljie - Beautiful, tender scene of Maedhros and Maglor reuniting as per @tari-cua's art. Such lovely descriptions in this one and so cozy.

#did i try to put these in like silm plot chronological order? Just a little bit #tolkien fanfic reading month #silmarillion fic #my posts #I read chaotically and then sort of fell off the map as life became crazy. but i wanted to highlight these fics i enjoyed!!

[rinriya]

IF Masterpieces pt.1

Wayfarer by @idrellegames

This is a unique, original and incredibly interesting game. A rich plot, deeply written characters, unusual twists and turns, lots of choices and options, and an incredible amount of work involved. This game is absolutely unique in its genre and type. “Wayfarer” combines aspects of rpg and dark fantasy literature. There are many twists and turns that make it easy for your game to take a different path. All the decisions you make are sure to be reflected in the aftermath. An absolute must-have for fans of rpg, fantasy, and books. (My MC)

Werewolves: Haven Rising by Jeffrey Dean

This is an incredibly compelling story that will make you feel like a strategist who needs to make decisions in the most difficult situations and not break down. “Werewolves” is exceptional in its genre of military fantasy. The novel is full of unexpected twists and turns. Not in a "well I guessed it" kind of way, but in a "fuck what?" kind of way. It's insanely interesting, insanely suspenseful and thrilling. Discover terrible secrets and protect those who you care about. The path you have to go through will be very difficult.

A Mage Reborn by @mage-parivir

Do you want to have your heart broken? Then this game is for you. “A mage reborn” is an author's fantasy with a fully crafted world, laws, magic, and history. The long and beautiful descriptions make the lore fun to explore and learn, and the dynamic scenes allow you to immerse yourself in battles and tense situations. You know what this novel reminded me of? A good fantasy anime. It's got that classic sword-and-magic vibe with sacrificial hero. I like that drama. (My MC)

The Fog Knows Your Name by Clio Yun-su Davis

It's a very compelling story, moreover it’s finished! “TFKYN” is an intriguing and mystical story with a dash of detective, but more paranormal phenomena. The story is filled with mystery, oppressive atmosphere and tension, which perfectly conveyed in the text. Сanon in such stories is the end result of player choices. Who they want to be with, how they want to act, and what the result will be, but in this story, for me personally, a meaningful canon is only one. It's very painful, but beautiful storyline. 

The Soul Stone War by @intimidatingpuffinstudios

If you want to feel like an adventurer who gets into the most unusual and dangerous situations, then this game is clearly for you. An intriguing plot, fun company and a lot of adventure await you. Solve mysteries, fight and save the world. The plot is incredibly intriguing and you want to know all the secrets of your companions. You constantly want to know what happens next. (My MC)

Superstition by @13leaguestories

I play a lot of short stories, both IF and VN, but I rarely get emotional when I play them (I'm not the most easily impressible reader), but what the text of the Superstition did to me... I can't put it into words. It's been a long time since I was so emotionally tossed from side to side. This work is an incredible swing from which you constantly fall off, face into a dirt, but stubbornly get up and keep on swinging. This work is full of mysticism, darkness, twists and turns, drama, and oh yes, so many suffering. (My MC)

Wayhaven Chronicles by @seraphinitegames

I assure you, you will spend several nights without sleep, because “Wayhaven Chronicles” is the best modern fantasy. It's a detective story that will make you feel every dangerous and tense moment. This is a beautifully written story that you won't be able to tear yourself away from. Be a detective who's fighting for justice in this world and protecting people. Learn stunning secrets, discover a whole new world, and become the person who turns things upside down. Be the one who becomes an indispensable and important member of the plucky team. (My MC)

The Bastard of Camelot by @llamagirl28​​

If you love stories based on the legends of Arthur, then you should definitely play this awesome game. Become Mordred and write your own story. This is a very beautiful version of the famous legend. You can meet different people, ride a dragon, use magic and learn the secrets hidden in other people's hearts. Will you become the terror of Camelot, or will you prove to everyone that prophecies can be wrong? 

Supernatural in New York by @llamagirl28​

Immerse yourself in the world of supernatural creatures, meet many interesting personalities and join an extraordinary team to help and save others. This is a big and very interesting game that you read like a book! A great story, well-written characters and incredible adventures in the modern world, but with the supernatural addition. You will find colorful descriptions, many interesting references and choices that will affect future consequences. Also this story has the species nsfw scenes. Highly recommend. And tame your own dragon!

The Midnight Saga: The Monster by @the-keeper-of-midnight​

If you love well-thought-out story as much as I do, then you will definitely love this game. The story takes place in the modern world, but with elements of mysticism and the supernatural. Discover a completely different world, abilities and history! There are many interesting things in game: lore, monsters, abilities, even a parallel world! This is not a standard fantasy, because the author brought a lot of unique things to the story. The game is good not only with text, but also with quests. Yes, you can visit different locations, collect legendary weapons, create an armor and unlock the secret ending. You can even die in a variety of situations, so be careful! And omg, this game contains one of the spiciest and hottest nsfw scenes I ever read. (My MC)

#wayfarer #werewolves #werewolves haven rising #a mage reborn #the fog knows your name #the soul stone war #superstition #the wayhaven chronicles #The bastard of camelot #supernatural in new york #the midnight saga #the midnight saga the monster #if #interactive fiction #interactivefiction #Interactive Novel #interactive text #text #Text based #text novel #text fiction #novel #book #games #game #book recommendations #recommendation #if recommendation #my thoughts #the best of the best

[silver-grasp]

Narrative Power in Arda

An embarrassing number of months ago, I alluded to narrative as an in-universe force within the Silmarillion in my tags on a post I have since lost, which I feel merits further elaboration. The short version is that crafting a story carries meaningful weight and power in Arda, which is not much of a reach considering that 1) telling a story in a certain way has power even in the real world, and 2) music is already well-established as an important medium and means of magic in Middle Earth. I think it is relevant to consider this aspect when discussing the nature and weight of words in the Silmarillion, whether it be curses, dooms, oaths, or anything else.

To begin with, it is difficult to tease apart what I will call in-universe narrative from narrative in the sense that a guy called Tolkien wrote this whole story down, on purpose, with various story arcs that come to various narratively satisfying conclusions. The best illustrative example of in-universe narrative, thus, is Finrod’s duel in song against Sauron, because Tolkien could have had the song battle work however he wanted, but he chose to make it about storytelling. We joke about Finrod and Sauron’s rap battle, but their contest really is a battle of narratives – particularly cultural narratives. To quote:

Then sudden Felagund there swaying Sang in answer a song of staying, Resisting, battling against power, Of secrets kept, strength like a tower, And trust unbroken, freedom, escape; […] And all the magic and might be brought Of Elvenesse into his words. […] The sighing of the sea beyond, Beyond the western world on sand, On sand of pearls in Elvenland.

This is arguably the story of the Noldor, as told by Finrod – all the beauty and power of Aman, but brought by the Noldor to Middle Earth in their flight to escape the control of the Valar and avenge their king against Morgoth’s evil. This is his choice of story to wield against Sauron, and it makes sense. It invokes the Noldor’s heroism against Morgoth in maintaining the long siege, as well as their rejection of all the higher powers and his own faithfulness to his oath to Barahir that led him to this point. It’s a good story, but Sauron shatters it with a single invocation, because this narrative Finrod spins of the Flight of the Noldor cannot accommodate the atrocity that was the Kinslaying at Alqualonde.

The outcome of the song battle is not decided based on raw power, or skill in crafting magic or spells, or even singing ability. It is won on the merits of narrative: Finrod’s story doesn’t work; he cannot narratively reconcile the reality of the Kinslaying with “trust unbroken, freedom, escape,” and thus Sauron has the victory (1). Thus, we can conclude that “does the story work” is a legitimate part of how magic functions in Middle Earth.

This should not come as a surprise; Middle Earth (and the world itself) were created/predicted by the Music of the Ainur, which is itself a narrative work of music. It, arguably, puts the story in history (2). The narrative of the Ainulindale, moreover, is disrupted by Morgoth in much the same way Sauron disrupts Finrod’s narrative in their contest. But whereas Finrod’s story collapses under the contradictions introduced by Sauron, Eru incorporates Morgoth’s discord into the Music to create a new, greater theme than the one before. This is not an accident, and it shows that Eru, as God and Creator (read: Author), understands narrative better than Morgoth does: any good story has conflict of one sort or another. That’s what makes them stories, rather than a pleasant but boring account of a series of pleasant but boring events.

This is to say, Tolkien makes the necessity of having a plot arc into part of his theological worldbuilding. There is, frankly, a lot you could say about that, but I am not going to, because it is somewhat off-topic from the point I’m trying to make and also I really don’t know where to begin.

Additionally, while Finrod’s own narrative fails, the overall narrative of Middle Earth picks up where he left off and turns his defeat into a fourth-act crisis point, the abyss which makes way for Luthien’s subsequent victory over both Sauron and Morgoth and triumphant retrieval of the Silmaril. Finrod may not have known how to turn Sauron’s narrative disruption to his own ends, but Eru does.

Returning to the Doom of the Noldor, while Manwe is said to be the closest of the Valar to Eru in thought, I would argue that Namo, as the Vala of fate, is the closest of the God-as-Author aspect of Eru. His domain, fate, is closely linked with the Music. I said earlier that Middle Earth was created/predicted by the Music, and that blurriness between creation and prophecy is important for understanding the nature of Fate in Tolkien’s work - there is a careful tightrope walked between free will and determinism (3). I argue that the Music additionally suggests that fate in Arda is really Narrative at work.

So where does that leave, for instance, the Doom of the Noldor? Is it curse or prophecy? Punishment meted out by the gods or natural consequences of an unprecedented violent attack? Framing it in these binaries is reductive no matter which side you come down on. The Doom is neither a curse nor a prophecy: it is a narrative.

The soon-to-be Exiles, led by Feanor, kick off their narrative in maybe the worst way possible (murder). This is, objectively, a very bad inciting incident – stories that start with murder don’t tend to turn out well for the people doing the murdering. Within the Music, and the fabric of Arda’s fate, the Noldor have narrowed their narrative options significantly. “Slain ye may be, and slain ye shall be,” for have they not already slain their own kin? But it is very difficult to argue for the Doom as purely prophetic. The text itself indicates in multiple places the judgment or wrath of the Valar as something laid upon the house of Feanor and all who follow them, not simply natural consequences. There is a tangible weight to the Doom, and a sense after the War of Wrath that it is something that can be lifted.

Mandos says, you have chosen your story to be a tragedy by opening with a tragedy. But when this is spoken by Narrative himself, it takes on a weight greater than that of a mere prediction. The Doom defines the genre of the story that is to follow: Tears unnumbered ye shall shed. And they did.

The story, of course, is never truly over. But I’ll leave eucatastrophe for another day.

Footnotes: (1) As a side note, I am forever thinking about arrogantemu’s fic “Beyond the Western World,” in which Finrod says “I’d staked everything on an innocence I didn’t have.” Credit where credit is due for influencing my thinking on this subject.

(2) Tolkien as a linguist would undoubtedly be aware that the words come from the same root, and that other modern languages have not in fact separated the meanings of “work of fiction” and “account of real events” into separate words.

(3) To write a proper meta on this subject I would have to dig much deeper into other sources, but from my understanding fate in Tolkien’s works works very similarly to the Anglo-Saxon concept of wyrd – there’s a very interesting line in Beowulf, I believe, about how “for undaunted courage, fate spares the man it has not already marked” (paraphrased). I highly recommend reading more about it for a better understanding of fate in Middle Earth.

#the silmarilion #the doom of the noldor #meta #dear god this has been. a long time in the writing #in my defense I had to move across the country shortly after starting this #and my copy of the silm was in a box. which made research difficult. and then I forgot about it