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himikiyo · 2 years

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autoclave // himikiyo analysis

this was originally posted on dra and ao3 back in summer 2020, but i’m crossposting it here upon request! this meta piece looks at himiko and korekiyo as foils within v3′s narrative and can be read as a tool to help in writing them (in a romantic sense or otherwise) or simply as a character analysis.

you can find the ao3 post here

although this is an old post, i’m still very proud of it and always seeking to introduce himikiyo to a wider audience so rbs greatly appreciated!

intro

so, this a blog i’ve been wanting to write for a long while. about a year ago (probably longer by the time this is actually posted), i wrote my ‘why i ship himikiyo’ blog. it was my first attempt to try to condense some of my reasons and feelings into a more organized format, rather than scattered over zillions of different conversations, posts, and so on. even at the time though, i wasn’t satisfied. i knew i probably wanted to make a follow-up at some point, but it wasn’t really a top priority.

now, after mulling over ideas for a few months, i’m finally ready to give it a try. in some ways, this is a sequel to ‘why i ship himikiyo,’ and that’s kinda the angle i’m coming from, but this isn’t meant to just be about romance or shipping. the original blog was a general overview on my personal reasons why it became my favorite ship, something i could link to people who asked me why. today, i’ll instead be comparing their characters, pointing out some similarities, and talking about their potential dynamic from that perspective.

as friends, enemies, or anything else, i think they have such a unique, fascinating dynamic, and as i’ve steadily talked to more and more people over the past couple of years who feel similarly, the more reasons i find. if this blog inspires even one person to make some content of their own, that would make me very happy.

getting to the point, what specifically am i going to be comparing? the main focuses are themes of vulnerability, control, and repression. in these areas, i think it could be argued that they serve as foils to each other, illuminating what could have been if himiko wasn’t able to move forward, or if korekiyo was. korekiyo is the dark to himiko’s light. just as she starts on the path towards real change and growth, kiyo is there to show the dangers of making the opposite choice.

please note that this blog touches on themes of depression, including a mention of suicidal ideation, and sister’s abuse of korekiyo is brought up multiple times, so take caution if topics related to that make you uncomfortable!

big chunks of my argument rest on the fact that this abuse did occur, but i don’t discuss the textual support for it at length, as many other people have already done so (and this blog would be like 2k words longer if i did). instead, it’s assumed that the reader already understands the basic idea that kiyo is an abuse victim. if you disagree, you probably won’t enjoy it much, and that’s fine. it’s not a point i’m remotely interested in debating.

aside from that, as always, this analysis is just my own interpretation!

emotional repression

first off, emotional repression. it’s true that many characters in v3 engage in this to some extent, hiding perceived weaknesses or undesirable emotions. a whole blog could be written talking about the whole cast on just this issue. unsurprising, considering the truth vs lies theme of the game. but once you dig a little deeper, korekiyo and himiko’s specific ways of hiding their feelings have more in common.

although many characters in the cast have ways of hiding their true emotions, like angie’s perpetual cheerfulness, kaito’s reckless confidence, or kokichi’s mischievous nature, they still do show emotion in some form or another. none of those three could be called stoic, that’s for sure. one way himiko and korekiyo differ from their classmates is that they both try to repress their emotions entirely, rather than simply masking them with other ones.

in himiko’s case, this should be obvious. her early apathy and struggles around learning to be more expressive form the basis of much of her character development. she doesn’t express much passion or seem to hold strong opinions on anything in the first couple of chapters (aside from her magic, of course). even after she begins bonding with angie, her comments about atua aren’t exactly *emotional.* she does draw comfort from having a source of escapism and someone else to make decisions for her, which i’ll be talking more about later, but her overall demeanor doesn’t change much. tenko and shuichi both talk about how hard it is to even interpret her facial expressions.

this is perceived by the majority of the cast as being pure laziness, and himiko’s own comments about things being too much of a pain don’t exactly do much to convince them otherwise. it’s not that simple, of course, but because it seems to be, pretty much everyone dismisses her as not being worth their time. despite how bad it must feel to be treated that way, himiko has no reason to try to change their minds. excessive laziness is a flaw, but not necessarily a weakness. it’s a choice — if that’s the reason for her behavior, she could do plenty of things and be successful at them, but she doesn’t feel like it.

the overwhelming depression and fear she actually feels, however...that’s a vulnerability that can be exploited. himiko is easily the physically weakest one there, not a good thing to be in a killing game. with her fragile mental state on top of that, she could be a very tempting victim. indeed, ryoma’s death in chapter 2 proves how depression and suicidal ideation can easily be taken advantage of. all of this was probably on himiko’s mind. she wanted to avoid seeming weak to others, but even more than that, she wanted to avoid seeming weak to herself.

distraction and escapism are very common coping methods. sometimes even just thinking about all the horrible things going on around you can be enough to crush your will to carry on. the more you bottle things up, the more it might feel like if you let yourself give in even for a moment, you might never be able to get it under control again. falling apart wouldn’t do anything to change the awful situation she’s in, and would, in her mind, reveal once and for all what a useless burden she really is. as we see several times, such as after she investigates rantaro’s dorm room in chapter 6, himiko is someone who desperately wants to be useful and have worth to her friends. this isn’t outwardly expressed much until after she’s developed, but it’s doubtful the actual feeling came out of nowhere. that desire to be useful was there all along.

one of the biggest examples in the first half of the game is the aftermath of her magic show. as the ultimate magician, her talent is her biggest source of pride. himiko mentions several times how her magic is supposed to make people smile and heal broken hearts. not only do most of her classmates freely ridicule her magic, her show is co-opted by kirumi for murder. it becomes the exact opposite of what she wanted to accomplish, accelerating her downward spiral and prompting her to give up even more control to angie. the student council is another chance to give herself meaning, and it works, but only for a while.

this repression and distancing from her emotions is also shown in her initial lack of connections to others. pre-development, himiko doesn’t try to get close to the others. if anything, she pushes them away. in both kaede and shuichi’s first free time events with her, she acts disinterested and makes no real effort to engage. likewise, tenko’s affection is entirely unwanted and unwelcome. himiko repeatedly makes it clear that they aren’t as close as tenko thinks they are. even angie, arguably her one friend in the first half of the game, is the one to approach himiko. angie is a very outgoing, controlling person, and that suits himiko’s needs at the time, but i don’t think they would have gotten close if angie hadn’t been the one to initiate it.

setting aside the extra variable of tenko’s pushy behavior, these examples show a pattern of fear and distrust. you never know who might betray you — if you don’t get close to someone in the first place, you can’t get hurt. additionally, keeping everyone at arm’s length lessens the risk of someone finding all the parts of herself she wants to hide. untethered, she’s free to ignore reality as much as possible.

korekiyo clearly has a whole mental health cocktail of his own, and is even more isolated. he’s not shy or antisocial — far from it. he likes to be around people in order to observe them, and doesn’t seem to have any qualms about contributing in trials or chatting with others, especially when anything connected to anthropology comes up. however, like himiko, he keeps everyone at arm’s length. he’s not really shown to be close to any person in particular. because of his sister, he’s likely never had a true friend of his own, at least not since he was a young child. the mere idea of it would be unthinkable. it would be a distraction from his mission.

by maintaining his role as an observer and his classmates as research subjects, he can both more easily fulfill sister’s wishes and separate himself from the real danger of the situation. even during the time limit in chapter 1, he shows no fear for his life, as if it all has nothing to do with him. though he does call everyone his friends before his execution, it’s not a sentiment that anyone seems to take seriously, and maybe rightfully so. it’s possible to have casual friends and acquaintances who you don’t know much about, but for a deep, meaningful connection to be established, some level of emotional vulnerability is needed. with kiyo, that’s never given.

while his affect isn’t quite as flat as himiko’s, he comes off as ‘creepy’ from the very beginning, and some of that is due to his calm, unruffled attitude. multiple people are disturbed by how casually he can talk about gruesome topics, and when his lab is discovered in chapter 3, shuichi is quite surprised by his behavior, emphasizing how unusual it is. both positive and negative emotions — his gleeful shouting and rushing around to check out all the artifacts and his threats to kokichi respectively — are openly on display for the very first time.

prior to the chapter 3 trial, both korekiyo and himiko are shown to lose their composure in relation to only two things: being able to show off their talents, and having things related to those talents threatened. those biggest interests are deeply important as sources of comfort and meaning, and they also provide a sense of control. however, nobody can keep things bottled up forever. there’s always a breaking point, and these smaller events hint towards the fact that they’ll each eventually lose that control in spectacular fashion.

this leads into my next topic, but before that, i want to mention one more detail. after korekiyo’s execution, kokichi says that “it’s not good to lie to yourself” in relation to himiko’s behavior. the timing was incredibly appropriate. the connection to korekiyo isn’t brought up by anyone, but in his last scenes, he was likely lying to himself as well — about his relationship with his sister.

it’s not uncommon for abuse survivors to minimize the severity of the abuse or outright deny that anything bad happened at all, because that’s what the abuser groomed them to believe. i won’t go into listing them all, but even with the series’ questionable track record when it comes to handling sensitive topics like abuse and mental illness, there’s plenty of hints that the situation was far from the mutual arrangement kiyo makes it out to be. unfortunately, he never gets the chance to heal and, as kokichi would put it, stop lying to himself.

not only does he die believing his own lies, everyone else believes them too. feel free to correct me if it turns out i forgot a line, but as far as i remember from the many times i’ve been through v3, with the exception of optional flavor text if you check places like his room or lab, korekiyo is never specifically mentioned again after his death. he’s the only one in the game this is true for (except maybe tsumugi but like. the epilogue isn’t that long.) even posthumously, he gets no opportunity for change. this is one example of how korekiyo’s stagnation acts as a foil to himiko’s growth.

behavior when upset

in the previous section, i established that both characters keep things bottled up in favor of projecting a calm, apathetic front, but when pushed to the limit, that control will slip, leading to emotional outbursts. digging even deeper, their mannerisms when those outbursts do happen or come close to happening share some similarities as well.

the most notable example is that they’re both shown to shake uncontrollably when distressed. in korekiyo’s case, the entire screen shakes too, and at one point in his breakdown, the influence gauge damage sound effect even plays, the only time this happens without the player actually getting something wrong. plenty of other characters are shown to have meltdowns in some form or another, kirumi probably being the most dramatic example, but kiyo and himiko are the only two whose sprites shake like this.

trembling or shaking is, of course, one of the major symptoms of panic attacks. feeling out of control, stumbling over your words, sweating, a sense of impending doom...as someone who has personal experience with panic attacks and how they feel, i see korekiyo’s breakdown as a pretty clear example of one. while himiko never has reason to reach quite that level of distress, and seems to internalize her feelings more than korekiyo anyway (eg her going totally silent and unresponsive vs him getting increasingly outspoken and combative), there are enough clues to suggest that she has similar tendencies.

it’s possible that part of the reason they both keep their feelings so tightly locked down is because of this tendency towards intense anxiety. a natural reaction to fear of losing control is to try to control things even more.

secondly, they both fixate on the supposed failure of an event instead of being concerned about the murder that just occurred. in chapter 2, himiko’s magic show is ruined by the discovery of ryoma’s body in the water tank. as everyone else reacts to that and starts investigating, himiko is mostly still focused on her show. she’s shocked about ryoma, of course, but most of her dialogue in the investigation is about being sad her magic show couldn’t make everyone smile and defending her magic. this carries into the trial, until the trick is figured out and she’s forced to agree.

in the next chapter, korekiyo’s dialogue in the latter part of the investigation matches up with that pretty closely. he feigns surprise at tenko’s death, but doesn’t even bother pretending to be that concerned about it, focusing on the seance instead. the fact that he can’t stop talking about the seance failing instead of the more pressing matter at hand is commented on and maki tells him off pretty harshly, much like how everyone reacts to himiko’s stubbornness about her magic.

obviously, the biggest difference here is that himiko was merely framed for ryoma’s murder, while korekiyo really did kill tenko. it’s possible that reacting the way he did was a calculated effort to avoid suspicion, and i do think that he was pretty confident he’d be getting away with it at that point, but i think at least a small part of it was a genuine attempt at maintaining control. knowing you’re about to be on trial has to be pretty damn stressful. even for an experienced killer like korekiyo, the class trial experience is not the same as something like evading the police in the outside world. the single minded focus, the small pool of suspects, the life or death stakes...all of that makes the killing game riskier.

both of them stay focused on a topic they’re intimately familiar with, and whose stakes are lower than the murder at hand. this is yet another tactic of denial and distraction, using the magic show and seance respectively to avoid fully processing (and potentially panicking over) the possibility of impending death. much like some of the other things i’ve already discussed, this is fairly common, and something i’ve experienced myself. when faced with something overwhelmingly distressing or traumatic, in that initial period of shock, you can find yourself focusing on something that doesn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things, because that’s easier to cope with in the moment.

to make this a bit easier to understand, i’ll provide a couple of other examples. in my fic ‘the things that scare us today,’ himiko can’t stop thinking about how someone’s going to need to clean the blood off the counter, rather than thinking about how the source of the blood is the person she just caught korekiyo burying in the woods. or for a real life example, after i got the news that my mom died, one of the first things i started worrying about was who was going to help me do my makeup for the funeral, because i wasn’t very good at doing it myself yet. completely irrelevant compared to the fact that i’d just lost the most important person in my life, and yet that’s what my brain latched onto.

the fact that (in my experience) this sort of reaction happens most often when faced with extreme loss isn’t a coincidence. coping with death is one of the core themes of chapter 3 and korekiyo’s character as a whole, and one of the threads that ties him and himiko together.

next, my final example before i wrap up this section. this one is less significant than the others, but i still felt like it was a detail worth noting. korekiyo is one of the characters in the game who is never really shown crying (though you can hear it in his voice towards the end, particularly in the original japanese), and himiko is first shown tearing up during their last conversation, and full-on crying for the first time right after his execution. this marks the real beginning of her character development, and i think it’s interesting that such an open display of emotion happens right after the death of someone who shared so many of her unhealthy coping mechanisms.

(also the fact that she kinda started crying while they were still talking and she was telling him she couldn’t accept it [the case ending up like this] lowkey hints that maybe she’s sad abt him dying too but i said this wasn’t a shipping blog so)

self-soothing

now, how about the other side of the coin? the ways they act when attempting to prevent distress are comparable too. they’re both interested in aspects of the supernatural or occult, and those interests form the basis for escapist fantasies. when the worst happens and they’re forced back to reality, they each use the death of someone important to propel them forward instead of giving up.

korekiyo is incredibly vocal about his interest in seances, spirits, and all things macabre. some of the pushing for a seance is because he wanted to kill, of course, but he talks about it even before chapter 3. he can’t possibly have been planning the seesaw trick before his lab was unlocked, since he’d have no way to know the equipment for the caged child would be there, and yet he mentions performing a seance as early as the chapter 2 flashback light. this, coupled with the anecdotes about participating in them before, indicates that his passion is genuine.

this belief in spirits and communicating with them is absolutely crucial to his stability and sense of self. we as players can see that the sister tulpa is just that, a tulpa. she’s something originating from his own brain, completely separate from the actual person who died. but korekiyo himself wholeheartedly believes it’s his sister’s spirit possessing him, and this is what gives him his mission and reason for living.

he mentions that in the year between sister’s death and his own near death experience, he “nearly went mad.”

exactly what this might have entailed is up for debate, but it’s safe to say that if he describes it that way, he was far more erratic and visibly unstable than he is by the time of the killing game. he never mentions his parents or other important people besides his sister, and talks about traveling extensively for fieldwork, so it’s also a safe assumption that he had no support system for dealing with his grief. the comfort of believing she returned acts as an anchor, easing his distress and allowing him to, at the very least, appear functional.

his beliefs about death are also integral to his comfort with killing. contrary to some popular opinions, i don’t think he ever enjoyed killing. felt no remorse? yes. felt a sense of satisfaction in pleasing sister? yes. sadistic enjoyment in the actual act, just for the hell of it? no, i don’t think there’s any evidence to support that. he even takes offense at being characterized as a “bloodthirsty, indiscriminate killer.” whenever he mentions needing/wanting to kill, he specifies that he wants to kill for sister. korekiyo doesn’t strike me as an innately violent person. without the incentive of thinking it’s what sister wants/something he must do for someone else, i doubt he would become a serial killer.

by the time of his death, he’s killed dozens of girls and become desensitized, but he probably didn’t start out that way. most people faced with needing to take a life would struggle quite a bit. by fully embracing beliefs about ghosts and thinking that death is just a change of form and not really a bad thing, he could justify his own actions and avoid feeling guilty.

if this belief system was damaged, it would shatter him. not only would his rationale for killing be fake, he would have been doing it for NOTHING, and he’d have to grieve his sister all over again, this time with no hope of an eventual reunion. having “nearly gone mad” the first time, a second time would be even worse. this is all he has.

(maybe a bit of a tangent, but him hugging himself and other forms of physical self-soothing are also very obvious. this is meant to be indicative of the whole tulpa thing, but it also suggests that he’s very touch-starved and has probably gone without any kind of non-violent contact from others for a long time, even something as simple as a hug. turning to this kind of outward self-soothing in public settings where it’s likely to be seen as weird or socially inappropriate fits well with a history of childhood trauma, which can hinder the development of coping skills.)

himiko’s stage magic isn’t actually occult or supernatural, unlike korekiyo’s hobbies, but she wants people to see it that way. the game not exploring her interest in actual, witchy magic was a wasted opportunity in my opinion, but regardless, it’s not much of a stretch to imagine she likes it. her status as a mage and the power that comes with the abilities she insists she has helps keep her from feeling weak and afraid, as i talked about in previous sections. it pushes away negative feelings just like korekiyo’s beliefs push away guilt and loneliness.

when angie introduces her to her religion, that’s an even better tool for escapism. himiko doesn’t discard her mage persona, but she devotes much of her time and focus to helping angie and praying to atua. trying to convince yourself that you’re strong and powerful can be helpful, but giving up control to a separate, all-powerful being is even better. she doesn’t have to accept responsibility for scary decisions or fear what might happen. all she has to do is follow directions and atua will make sure everything’s okay. this is part of why cults can seem so appealing.

whenever those negative feelings start cropping back up, like when tenko interrupts her praying or when angie reveals that tenko betrayed the student council, himiko retreats back into that mindset as quickly as possible, deferring to angie’s judgment. it shields her from the full impact of everything going on.

just as korekiyo finds purpose in his mission to reach 100 friends, pursuing that goal above all else, himiko finds the motivation to help the other survivors end the killing game after chapter 3. she shuts down and openly gives up for most of the investigation and the early part of the trial, only finding her way after getting a couple of pep talks and taking on the responsibility of going forward for angie and tenko’s sake as well as her own.

himiko’s motivation from these deaths is a positive force. she grows as a person and helps the rest of the cast through the second half of the game, ultimately ending up one of the survivors despite monokuma and tsumugi trying to crush everyone’s spirits time and time again. her strength is adaptive, and far healthier than the sources of comfort she was relying on before.

kiyo’s motivation, on the other hand, is a negative, destructive force. stuck on a self-destructive path and unable or unwilling to find a new source of strength, he ends up essentially digging his own grave. he’s inflexible, prioritizing his mission over everything else to the point of actually hindering that very goal. he acknowledges that he knew he’d have plenty of chances to kill after escaping the academy, but couldn’t resist the temptation to go through with it anyway. with patience and self-control, he could’ve made it out and accomplished what he wanted.

personas for control

comfort and companionship aren’t the only purposes of the tulpa. her personality, likely reflective of what her real life counterpart was like, is more aggressive and controlling than korekiyo’s. for instance, she directly insults the other students and generally acts quite arrogant, in contrast to korekiyo consistently saying that he considers all of them friends and only lashing out when he’s panicked.

this is also why she only comes out when he’s in serious distress. as i’ve said before, it’s natural to feel the need to regain your composure and take control of a situation when you feel yourself slipping, but the more upset you get, the harder it is to accomplish. korekiyo’s abilities to control the direction of a debate and generally seem powerful rest on a rather delicate foundation. the moment that calm veneer is stripped away, it becomes obvious how unstable he actually is. he’s not used to being the one in control, the one with power. sister is. asserting control over others through aggression is a tactic of bullies and abusers.

i’d venture a guess that it might feel reassuring to be on the other end of that for once. he knows firsthand how good she is at getting her way, so maybe some small part of him actually hopes that coercing the others into voting wrong is possible. however, he’s not completely on the other end — sister is still clearly controlling him through the trial, and her primary reason for making herself known is to keep his behavior in check. this shows how deeply ingrained her manipulation is. years after her death, in a life or death situation that would make anyone panic, he’s still subconsciously punishing himself for not living up to her draconian standards. this can also be seen earlier in chapter 3, when his lab is discovered. after getting overly excited about doing a seance and shuichi refusing him, he apologizes. this is the only time the voiced line “forgive me, i lost myself” is used. the polar opposite of sister’s “apologize, apologize, apologize,” to the point that it would make sense as a reply to it.

in order to deal with intense stress or discomfort, he lets the tulpa deal with it. this distances him from the problem at hand and responsibility for it as well as providing comfort. by hiding behind and deferring to the judgment of someone he sees as wise and powerful, he can feel protected and taken care of. something that he’s probably never genuinely experienced.

we can guess that needing to apologize to her for any number of transgressions, including being visibly upset, was part of their dynamic. furthermore, korekiyo sees it as a good thing, a sign she wants the best for him. apologizing and submitting to her whims, making her happy, would then bring relief and confidence, and this pattern continues with the tulpa. giving control to get control.

himiko’s use of personas and other selves is much more subtle, in keeping with the fact that she’s on an upward trajectory instead of downward. it’s also more of a conscious choice. she knows she’s putting on an act. korekiyo represents what could happen if she goes on lying to herself for too long and starts to actually believe it. the all-powerful, universally revered mage is a fantasy version of herself that’s much more capable of solving her problems. if only she could become that himiko instead, everything would be better.

this tendency of hers actually seems to decrease throughout the game, but she still goes back to it when she’s especially rattled, reinforcing the idea that it’s a defense mechanism. for example, after she’s trapped in the hidden room and finds the secret passage to escape, she claims it was her magic that let her escape before continuing on to explain the real reason.

pushing negative emotions onto ‘someone else’ could also, in both cases, help fend off the possibility of rejection. if they never present their true, vulnerable selves, then any negative reactions won’t hurt as much. both of them tend to be on the periphery of the group. i’ve already discussed how part of this is due to their own actions of pushing people away, but that’s not quite the whole story. neither of them seem to be taken seriously by many people, and nobody really holds back when it comes to teasing or insulting them.

tenko is the only person who fully indulges and supports himiko’s magic. pretty much everyone else has at least one scathing comment about it, and people like kokichi and miu go much further with their insults, as they’re wont to do. she does grow closer to the others in the later part of the game, but there’s still a sense of distance that’s very obvious compared to, say, the training trio’s friendship. maki is still making snide comments to her by chapter 6, while himiko is clearly trying to get more friendly with her. part of that is just maki being maki, but overall, there’s a sense that the other characters don’t quite see himiko as being on the same level as them, something that takes until the very end to fade away.

similarly, hardly anyone seems to care when korekiyo tries to talk about his interests. people tend to be either creeped out, or generally resigned to yet another anthropology lecture. any talk about seances or the occult gets double the negative reaction. kaito and maki in particular are quite hostile towards korekiyo at times, though the worst moment of kaito’s was toned down significantly in english compared to the japanese dialogue. korekiyo doesn’t make much of an effort to integrate himself with the group, but why would he when it seems like nobody wants him around anyway?

it’s hard to say whether the group’s dislike bothers him or not. he never gives a clear indication that it does, and maybe he truly thinks it doesn’t. but deep down, there’s probably a great deal of self-loathing waiting to be unearthed. a sense that nobody could ever understand or love him, that sister is the only one who would accept him and care for him. his entire belief system regarding love and healthy relationships is warped.

post-trial wrap up

finally, here we are. the only place this building pattern of similarities could lead. the end of the third trial, prior to korekiyo’s execution, is the scene where everything comes together and his role as himiko’s foil is made clear. it’s an important scene for his character, obviously, with all the reveals packed into it. perhaps even the most important. it’s also one of the most important scenes for himiko.

after voting time, we get into the reveal of korekiyo’s motives. at first, it’s a pretty standard format — him addressing the group, with everyone getting a chance to chime in here and there. every blackened in the series does this. throughout, the focus of the conversation begins to narrow. this also happens pretty much every time — the blackened starts off by explaining the details relevant to everyone about why they did what they did, and then it becomes more personal. everyone else is still present, but the conversation is mostly with just one or two people. generally, these people are the protagonist and the person closest to the blackened.

individual trials have slight variations, of course, but this loose pattern tends to hold true. ishimondo, kuzupeko, hinanami, saimatsu, kaimaki...just to name the most obvious examples, all these very popular ships feature a heart-wrenching exchange before one of them is executed. regardless of how you feel about any given pairing in a romantic sense, those final moments are for very significant bonds. it would feel odd any other way. if you’re about to die, of course you’d most want to talk to someone you care about.

what would it be like if kaede reached out to someone like kokichi instead of shuichi? or what if kaito gave parting words of advice to tsumugi instead of comforting maki? it would feel weird and jarring. the scene would be confusing you instead of making you cry. close relationships are what we expect the focus to be on in those moments.

with that in mind, who is korekiyo primarily addressing once the focus narrows? himiko. it’s not as in your face as some of the other examples i mentioned since there isn’t as much of an established dynamic there, but it fits the pattern all the same. there’s no one else it could be. nobody is anywhere near as connected to him as himiko is. even if you say their only connection is the fact that he killed the two people she was closest to and leave it at that, that’s still far more significant than what he has with the others.

himiko is the first and most receptive to the idea of the seance, and participates most actively in helping him set up (she chooses the stone from the courtyard, chooses the room, and so on). she’s the only person kiyo directly goads and tries to provoke for no strategic reason whatsoever. she’s the one who pushes to hear his explanation when everyone else is content to have him punished as quickly as possible. everyone else is disgusted, but she’s the one who’s truly upset. the tension is palpable. this is the single most important relationship in the room.

hence why himiko is also the recipient of his last anthropology lesson, a piece of what seems to be genuinely well-intentioned advice. it’s directly in response to her saying she can’t accept it. she can’t accept the case coming to an end this way, can’t accept the unfairness of it all. she can’t accept angie and tenko’s deaths, but also, i’d argue, can’t accept korekiyo’s. not like this, anyway. though it’s rooted in anger and frustration, she wants more time.

she needs him, or rather, needs to understand him. she needs closure and acceptance, something that will let her keep going. she ends up having to find it after he’s gone, of course, and acceptance isn’t something that can be given anyway, but in some sort of scenario where he lived longer, she wouldn’t be able to leave him alone regardless. she’d be constantly digging and provoking, trying to get something out of him that would fill that void.

on some level, i think korekiyo recognizes that, and recognizes at least a few of their similarities. his morals are skewed, but he’s not a malicious person when he doesn’t feel he has to be. he doesn’t set out with the goal of hurting anyone. that’s just collateral damage. i don’t think he’d have any desire to make someone suffer the way he did, beautiful though it might be. so why not help her a little, offer a bit of guidance?

in his own way, he’s trying to teach her and reassure her. this really hammers home the contrast between their characters. the core traits that he serves as her foil for are coping mechanisms, especially related to death. he’s the dark, the wrong path that himiko must find the strength not to choose. what better way to emphasize that than essentially having him tell her so? he gives her his answer, all the tools that he feels she needs in order to come up with her own, and then leaves it to her. others can watch and advise, but himiko has to make a choice by herself.

bonus notes, or ‘i held back for 6k words, we’re shipping now’

if you got this far, thank you for reading! i hope it was thought-provoking and did more to show why i feel that their characters make each other stronger and are so deeply intertwined. if you want to stop here, that’s cool, i know this is a longass blog. but if you stick around, i have a few more casual/loosely related thoughts that didn’t make it into the main blog. a lot of them are more ship-oriented and/or fic inspo, so if any give you an idea you want to play around with, go for it.

(tho if anyone actually does use any specific ideas of mine, a link back to this post would be cool of you)

- they’re uniquely positioned to understand each other and work thru their trauma. i think any sort of understanding or tenderness from himiko would mean way more than from anyone else bc of all those connections. any kind of bond formed from seeing those similarities and just. being able to see each other as they truly are would be so special

- it’s not an ‘easy’ ship and that’s part of the appeal. it’s not simple or effortless. there’s always trauma and emotional baggage to work through. there’s always two different sets of walls that need to be taken down, even in non-killing game settings. there’s conflict and difficulty and gray morals and that’s some of the beauty of it. it takes work and determination to create something healthy and nurturing out of that and i think that’s what makes enemies to friends to lovers type dynamics so fun in general. the happiness at the end feels earned.

- kiyo calls himiko’s magic show fun during the ch2 investigation and that makes my heart warm ok? we stan supporting each other’s passions. relatedly, the singular dirty joke he makes in the entire game is directed at her and i just think that’s a fun little note

- himiko having to go past kiyo’s lab every single time she went to and from angie’s...maybe once or twice she stopped and they talked about magic or smth

- himiko is generally pretty expressionless at first, and obv korekiyo’s expressions are mostly hidden by his mask so like?? one of them seeing the other smile for the first time or smth small like that, and realizing that it’s okay to open up a little bit and nothing bad will happen? p l e a s e someone write a fic of that or i’ll have to just do it myself

- i tend to see them both as being simultaneously touch-starved and kinda avoidant of physical contact w most people so like,,, them eventually trusting each other enough to get that comfort? it kinda ties back to my point abt them being uniquely important/significant to one another. i don’t believe korekiyo needs to be ‘redeemed’ either to be a good character in general or to be ‘deserving’ of himiko, but redemption arcs are good shit sometimes, and she’d be an ideal person to help him w that in a setting where she’s already learned those lessons abt growth herself

- nothing says ‘maybe i cared about you’ like ‘your death was the catalyst for me crying so hard i passed out and didn’t wake up until the next morning’

- i thought nobody rly realized/talked abt them being foils (& i still stand by the fact that it’s not talked abt Enough), but literally today 6/6 i saw someone call kiyo himiko’s foil in the comment section of one of lucahjin’s videos on youtube & that’s what made me finally finish this fucking blog so i happily stand corrected

#danganronpa #dr #drv3 #korekiyo shinguji #himiko yumeno #himikiyo #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #shinguji korekiyo #yumeno himiko #meta #m

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reverieblue98 · 3 years

Text

How to Write a Hero: Dan Harmon Story Circle

Dan Harmon, a producer and writer, came up with this formula for writing a hero’s story. This post will take a good look at it, and break down into easier pieces to digest.

To better explain this style of writing, I’m going to use Spider Man’s backstory, because he’s the perfect example of a hero! I’ll explain what the step involves, then compare it to Peter Parker’s origin story. There are eight steps to Harmon’s circle, so let’s get started!

1: You

The first step is very easy! Establish your character, and the world’s status quo. You can introduce what relationships they have, what job they have, etc. In Peter Parker’s case, he is a high school student in NYC who loves everything science and math. Very simple, but very important! Get all important character or world building pieces out now.

2: Need

When you see need, most authors will think of the things that drives their main character to do whatever it is they need to do. However, in this style of storytelling, the need doesn’t have to be big so long as it paves the way for a bigger problem or need.

In Peter’s story, once he got his powers, he wanted to test them out in a fighting ring. Not a big need, but it creates something bigger...

3: GO!

In this step, your hero will set out to fulfill their need! Outline what the hero must do, and why it is important that they do it.

In his origin story, Peter goes and fights in the ring, testing his amazing abilities. I want to point out that your step three will look different than Peter’s step three, because his is just an origin story. There’s not a whole lot of detail, but if your whole book is about the hero’s journey, yours will probably end up longer. (which is expected!)

4: Search

Here’s the part where you show the reader that the path isn’t as straightforward as it seems. Create some roadblocks or problems, anything that prevents your hero from getting what they need.

In Peter’s case, this is where he is asked to stop a thief, which he does not. This creates the horrible event of his uncle dying. This is the big problem, the one that will change the hero permanently.

5: Find

Now, the hero will find what they were looking for in step two, but not how they wanted to. This is where your main problem breaks down into a ton of different ones, all stopping the hero from getting what they need.

In Peter’s story, this is when he realizes what his powers could actually do. That’s what he was intending to find out in step two, but not like this. This problem should be devastating to the hero. It can be introduced as early as step four, established in step five, and even carry on to step six if you want. So long as it forever changes the hero. It must be big!

6: Take

Now your hero has what they originally wanted, and they need to take it. But, it won’t come without a price. The hero will realize what they need to do to fix the problem introduced in step five, and it will require sacrifice. Peter realized that there were millions of people who had loved ones die to murderers as well, and knew he wanted to avenge all of them. In doing so, he could possibly be sacrificing his life. The stakes are higher and the problem is bigger, so the reward for the hero (and reader) will be sweeter. Be sure to show just how difficult solving this problem will be!

7: Return

Now, the hero is beginning to return to the start. The calm before the storm, if you will. They have been changed fundamentally by the events of step five and six, and so they have a new need/problem that needs to be solved. For Peter, this step was realizing his new need of protecting NYC. This is a very important step in setting up a good ending, or paving the way for a series.

Your hero needs to be a changed person, with their new goal engraved in their mind. The new goal they have should be fueled by the devastating event that happened to them. The reader should understand why the hero needs to do this, and want them to get a happy ending.

8: Change

This step is also known as the final showdown. In this step, the hero uses everything they learned to solve the problem/fulfill the need. Peter fights the criminals who killed his uncle, and promises to protect people from this happening to them.

The ending is sweet and makes the reader proud, because they could see how difficult it was for the hero to get there. That’s how stories that use this format should end: The reader should feel happy for the hero, because they deserved it! They went through hell, and made it out better and stronger. (This is where the circle would start again, especially if you plan to make a series out of the story.)

Whew, that was long! This plot outline really revolves around pain motivating the hero. Maybe not so good for a happy-go-lucky character, but perfect for your dark and brooding heroes. If you have any questions about Dan Harmon’s Story Circle that I didn’t address here, don’t be afraid to ask! My dms are always open. Happy writing!

-RB

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muraenide · 2 years

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☠♥♢⚜☀☢❀❥♒❣ drops these and rubs my hands like that one evil raccon gif, spill the tea <3

the salty af munday meme

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

Answered here!

♥ What's the WORST thing that has happened to you rp wise?

Getting to know someone, who shall not be named, blocked me and my friends and then they make a post accusing us for numerous things that I didn’t even know we did, and then threatened all their mutuals that if they interacted with us they’d be blocked 😃

It’s all because of a ship they didn’t like. It was also my second day on that blog and I’ve legit have no idea what’s going on. It originated from this other mutual who is also shipping that ship and generally follows everyone, so when people saw that ship they started the whole witch hunt. I was sleeping at that time and when I woke up the dash turned to hell. Had to ask my friend what’s going on and turned out it was because of that ship (IM me for details!)

Apparently the same person also made an excel with all our urls + other people we don’t know and shared it around so everyone can block us. I only found out about that excel (and the whole story) through another mutual only like 6 months later and by that time I don’t care much anymore. You can call me whatever <inserts problematic label> and I’d say OK, you are absolutely right, have a nice day!

✧ Do you agree with reblog karma or is it forced interaction?

I don’t mind not practicing reblog karma as long as someone isn’t like, rbing 10 posts off my blog at once. But that’s different from feeling like you’re outright being used as a resource blog, which in case I would just sb. So far no one has rb anything much from me though, but that might be because I don’t rb much either 🙈 It also depends on the meme... When it’s just a headcanon/munday/opinion meme then there’s no reason not to send any. If it’s IC memes then it’s understandable that you might not find one of the options that is fitting for your muse and theirs, so its ok not to send any.

⚜ How many people do you not like?

A lot. 😭 And since I hold grudges I tend to remember them forever. I usually just avoid them though. If they’ve done something toxic or evil to other people then I’ll most likely have them blocked. But if I don’t like them for petty reasons that’s just a personal thing, I don’t block them, I simply don’t interact with them.

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

I’m running out of pet peeves that I’m willing to put on the dash 😂 Okay this only happened to me twice here, but I find it annoying when you put so much of effort into writing a long reply and your rp partner does not appreciate it. It makes me not want to write longer replies anymore and just half-assed something until we’ve established something more solid so we can be sure both sides are invested.

When you’ve been mutuals for a long time and there’s no signs of interest or interaction. I understand that people can be busy but neither of us are mind readers. An occasional like on posts or an ask or an ooc post to show that interest is still present is nice sometimes.

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

The karma is a b1tch trend. I feel like this typically occurs with villain muses. Your muse did something bad in canon so you’re supposed to feel guilty to mine now and feel sorry and has to immediately redeem yourself! I think that’s not fair in rp, especially when we have plotted nothing, my muse hasn’t done anything to yours yet but your muse is demanding retribution without giving mine a chance or, like, ask the mun for an opinion?

❀ What has made you completely lose your chill?

asjkdhas A lot of things. I feel like I can list them down forever. I don’t consider it losing my chill, but I can get carried away with topics I have a lot of opinions on, since I hardly write anything too personal on tumblr and/or anywhere else, so that’s not losing my chill but sometimes I forget that I’m talking to someone and keeps going on and on. I should fix that about myself 😭

❥ Has someone ever ruined an FC or character for you?

>> ....... Yes. (IM for details).

♒ Thoughts on the fandom you're currently rping in?

Answered here!

❣ How salty are you feeling right now?

From a scale of 1 - 10, 5 😂 If I’m not tired than maybe 8.

#drama cw #// freya asking all the core questions asjdhas #long post cw #𖦹 ⋆꙳ ⁄ ooc.

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banglatown · 2 years

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You have no right Saying you have a tough relationship with your parents when you constantly talk about how good you got it with them

RIGHT,,, LISTEN THE FUCK UP BC I WILL, AND I REPEAT, I WILL ONLY SAY THIS FUCKING ONCE

despite however much you think you know abt me, you know nothing abt my life, nor can you make an accurate assumption from the things i choose to share

this is exactly why so many modern mental health experts tell you to keep your mental health woes to yourself and avoid sharing them online … bc of this shit … bc the internet isn’t compassionate, it’s a seething cesspool of hatred

but, fucking none of you have the right to tell me what i can and cannot vent abt, FUCKING NONE OF YOU, i fucking tag my shit when asked and if you don’t like it, you’re well within your right to 🚪 LEAVE

i share with you guys bc i found a community here of likeminded ppl who i could seek comfort in and give comfort to, which is what started ‘big sis beebs’ i turned it into a tag so tht whoever needs my help can get it in whatever way i can offer it, and at first it was fine, i was happy, it was nice being able to be what i never had, my own sister, though one of my fave ppl and amazing, is 30 years my senior we don’t exactly exchange tips on fucking birth control … not to mention how my cousin sisters who are close in age to me make me feel deeply uncomfortable w/ any of tht sort of thing so it made me honestly super grateful tht i could provide some sort of wisdom for my babies .. it made me happy 💕 however, slowly, as i lost the ability to be online constantly due to lockdown easing and i had to go back to uni, work and managing my irl social life, it took me longer to reply to ppl but i’d like to think when i did i would be thorough and actually helpful … but then ppl like THIS started crossing their fucking place so

what the actual fuck are you on about??? you think just bc i’m not constantly doing a fucking soliloquy abt the intense relationship i have w/ my mum means tht i live inside a fucking cloud where all is merry? the lack of intellectual depth is killing me ,,, i’m gone … i try my very fucking hardest to be kind when ppl on anon misunderstand me but oh my goD i cannot ,,, i just can’t rn … believe it or not … ppl can … have good times … and also bad times … but just bc they don’t share either or .. DOESNT MEAN THE OTHER ONE DOESN’T FUCKING EXIST

and the fucking post you’re referring to was a rb … one that spoke to me heavily so i wanted to share in hopes it’d help others which it did and i’m so grateful … bc sharing paternal trauma is one i still struggle with and is something i’ll probably struggle w/ for the rest of my life as a child of diaspora .. so it was a big deal for me … so yes, this did fucking piss me off to no end

okay, now tht i’ve calmed down, can you please for the love of all tht is pure and good not think you have a monopoly on understanding me just bc you follow me on tumblr … you don’t … like … idk why this is the case like ,,, i rmbr back in the day where i was like 13 and all the cool bloggers would have their personal lives torn into and then they’d deactivate and i’d be like !??!????? and now i’m here … and i see it .. i fucking get it … but dw i’m not deleting nothing, what i’m going to do is a set a fucking boundary, if you are to seek advice or guidance or whatever, you do so with respect, or you will not get it, that’s it 🤍

i’ve included a helpful infographic:

#i’m so sorry for losing my shit babies #today was just not the day to piss me off #and so … yh i said what i said #for the record; this is for the tiny percentage of ppl… for the rest of my babies my arms are open for you with love #i hope you’re all well 💓💓💓💓#big sis beebs hours 🕰🤎🧸#answered #tw death #tw abuse #tw drug use

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elle-smells · 3 years

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thank you @alittleemo for tagging me, I do love to talk and ramble sdjfhkdsjfd

1. why did u choose ur url?

this current one was bcs I've been wanting a bapo url for a while and I finally sat down to think of one and really liked lesbeanadiamcnll so here I am sdjdhfds My last one was half wtfock related and I kinda wanted to switch it up after season 5 anyway but since they decided to really drag this show through the mud I couldn't wait any longer

2. any sideblogs?

I had a taylor swift side blog for a month and then got tf out of that side of tumblr sdkjsdfds its still up bcs I love the url I chose, apart from that, I like keeping my mess in one place <3

3. how long have u been on tumblr?

uhh I think it's coming up on 2 years since I started posting and about 3 since I joined (and then deleted my first blog by accident lmao)

4. do u have a queue tag?

yes, its a sander driesen quote: moonlight was shining down on queue

5. why did u start your blog in the first place?

tbh I don't really remember. I mean I know I joined to look at skam + remakes content but I don't remember why I chose tumblr specifically. I did join at 4am tho so clearly It was a sleep deprived decision.

6. why did u choose ur icon/pfp

bcs its pride and I love Sander Driesen and, as I do with every comfort character, I project my bisexuality onto them so there you have it dkjfsdhfsd

7. why did u choose ur header?

I LOVE the Argentina production of Bare a Pop Opera. I really liked the way they staged/blocked Jason's last scene with him opening those gates to a big bright light 😔😌 Thats what you see in my header :) shoutout to aurore for making it for me

8. how many mutuals do u have?

i don't know....skjshdf I don't keep a tally nor do I have the energy to go find that out right now but I'd say maybe 15? maybe a bit more? maybe a bit less? Do I interact with all of them? nope but I still think they're cool <3

9. how many followers do u have?

wouldn't you like to know /s /j

10. how many people do u follow?

183

11. have u ever made a shitpost?

*sends link to my entire blog*

12. how often do u use tumblr each day?

Its always open on my laptop lmao somedays I'll post and reblog a lot, others I'll jsut check in on what's going on and be very quiet, few times I'll catch up once, and then leave.

13. did u ever fight/argue w another blog? who won?

the only "fight" I've had is the twink peter simmonds discourse which is not a "fight" anymore, its a family <3 Also I'm pretty sure @torisgf and I are gonna exchange punches just to see who could win

14. how do u feel about "u need to reblog these" posts?

I'm gonna steal part of your answer too lee. ngl, I don't read every single activism/long post that I come across bcs I don't always have the energy for it and I don't wanna rb for the sake of rb.

15. do u like tag games?

I do, I just forget to do them most of the time kfjdsfds

16. do u like ask games?

fuck yeah I love talking with purpose

17. which of ur mutuals do u think is tumblr famous?

y-you think I give off tumblr famous vibes?? skdjfhds I'll take it

anygays I'm not gonna tag her bcs *awkward* skdjfhsd but Jenna @/marjvn ....girl I am not worthy dkfjdsfsd she's cool :) and then there's Viv @alexiaugustin , famous in some palces, infamous in others (I mean that's truly iconic). Known for many things and having great takes on everything one of them <3

18. do u have a crush on a mutual?

actually @suburbanenigma and I have been proven to be soulmates so...

Tagging, people I've mentioned here and anyone else who wants to do it dskjfdshf

#and now I'm goign to get food I'm starving

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falsegoodnight · 4 years

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Hi Ris! First of all, I want to tell you that you are such an incredibly talented author and I enjoy your works so much. I'm curious as to how could you write a lot in short amount of time? I mean, can you explain a bit about how do you plan your fics, if that makes sense? Sorry to bother you, have a nice day❣️

hi!! ahh thank you so much!! i’m so glad you enjoy my fics! <3

so for your question, i got a bit carried away so i’ll be adding a cut so you can read more!

just a quick ramble:

first of all, i just want to say that there’s going to be people that write really quickly and people who take more time to write but that difference doesn’t have any holding over one’s worth as a writer or anything like that! in other words, there’s nothing wrong with taking your time when writing a fic/story so i hope you keep that in mind and don’t be too hard on yourself when you’re struggling! every writer is different - it’s the same as how some writers have tons of ideas and some only get a good idea once in a blue moon or how some writers can write dialogue or a different element of a story easily and others can’t. it’s just a characteristic and not a representation of your success/achievement!!

that little bit is hopefully unneeded but i wanted to include it just in case!!

anyways, even though speed is relative to your own person and it’s different for everyone - there are factors you can control!! and you’re right in that planning is one of them!! if you have a detailed outline (or basis for how the story is going to begin, progress, and then resolve at the end then you’re going to have less struggle when it comes to writing the story because you know what you’re characters are striving towards!! obviously, some writers don’t use outlines and i can’t speak for anyone because this is what’s worked for me but it has helped me a lot so if you haven’t tried an outline before, i’d definitely recommend doing it at least once!

i’ve talked about it before but my outlines tend to be super detailed!! once i get a basic idea of a fic, i like to delve as deep as i can into the characters/plot/world. the first thing i’ll do is type out my idea in full detail so i don’t forget anything important and so i can see it all in print. then i’ll usually make some character profiles for each of the main characters (usually just louis and harry but sometimes i’ll include small ones for side characters!!)

an example format:

louis:

- age:

- job/career: (if they’re in school or it’s a fantasy/paranormal then this could be something like ‘student, english major’ or ‘witch’)

- background/history: (everything important to the story but also a lot that’s not dhjdk)

- positive traits:

- negative traits:

- character growth: (if i want to include character development, i always write that down!!)

then i begin my scene list which is basically a numbered list of every scene that takes place in the story!! it’ll usually start with a beginning scene, maybe a few scenes i know will take place somewhere in the middle, and also the ending scene (which is typically one of the first things i figure out when outlining the story!) and as i get more ideas and dive deeper and deeper into the story, this scene list grows longer and longer! some scenes are more outlined than others depend on how self-explanatory or complicated they are!

it’s also important to note that outlines are fluid, in that you can tweak/change them anytime you want! even when you’re 3/4ths of the way through a story and you decide you don’t like the ending you initially had and have a better idea! i can’t count how many times i’ve changed things in the middle of the story!!

having a super detailed scene list helps me know exactly what’s going to happen in a scene so i can just write it instead of spending time trying to figure out what’s going to happen in this scene while i’m in the middle of writing it!

and if i’m writing a fantastical/paranormal world, then i also always write down every detail of the worldbuilding that i want to include in the story - but also a whole lot of information i don’t end up including! knowing your story and your world is KEY to writing something quickly!!

i could go way more in detail if you wanted but i won’t ramble this time!! if you want more insight into outlining, i’d be happy to do a longer post one day (i already plan on it actually - i’m just lazy haha) but basically, planning has definitely had a huge impact on my writing productivity!

it doesn’t work for everyone though!! so here are some other things that contribute to my productivity:

- finding as much time as possible to write

as a full-time student with a part-time job and other responsibilities and just a life in general, it’s difficult to find time to write! but i try my best to carve out even just ten minutes per day to write and when i get that time, i take advantage of it. i think we all know that there’s time in our days that we usually just let get away from us - whether that means scrolling through social media without actually retaining anything, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, or just sitting around and doing nothing - i’m not saying that’s a bad thing or anything (i do all three all the time) but i am saying that it’s possible to stop yourself from letting that time slip away and instead choose to channel it into getting down a few words! even if you only write eleven words, that’s eleven more than you had before!

it sounds a bit obsessive but here’s what i’ve been doing when i wrote my last few fics: waking up thirty minutes earlier every morning before class so i can start my day by writing (honestly this is one of my favorite things to do because it helps wake me up and also gets me feeling productive when i’m usually just groaning and complaining about exhaustion - ofc not everyone will be the same), staying up late to write on my phone while in bed (again, i have unhealthy sleeping habits so maybe this isn’t a good tip but the point is that i take advantage of free time hdjkdk), and my favorite thing to do to get out words quickly:

- writing sprints

this is honestly one of my favorite things to do whether it’s a ten minute sprint or an hour long one! just setting aside a time dedicated to getting as many words as possible on paper (don’t focus on whether they’re perfect, just write - everything else comes later!) is always beneficial to me!! i do this frequently!!!

setting goals also helps for goal-oriented people like myself!! well, goal-oriented and competitive people such as myself haha. i love a good challenge to reach a certain word count (or even a goal like finishing a certain scene!) so if you’re like me, this could help a lot!

- accountability

this one can relate back to the writing sprint/competition thing if you do a sprint with someone else (super fun!) and keep each other accountable!! you can even just tell someone close to you that you’re aiming for a certain word count in a certain time and then tell them to check in with you! the satisfaction of being able to tell this person that you succeeded rather than didn’t (once again, not that that’s a bad thing!) can be particularly motivating!

- incentives

again, if you’re someone like me who works on reaching goals and reaping rewards, then this could be really beneficial! rewards can be anything from candy (i used to let myself eat a sour patch kid for every 100 words i write and let me tell you, that really helped hdjkd) or letting yourself watch an episode of a show you want to see!! they can be big prizes for smaller chunks of words or small prizes for bigger chunks of words - it doesn’t matter!! just do whatever gets you motivated!!!

also:

- get rid of distractions

i use sites like blocksite to keep myself from getting distracted by things like twitter/tumblr/youtube so i can focus!!! they have things like passwords so you can’t deactivate the block so if you have someone around you that can put in a password to make sure you don’t get tempted, taking advantage of that when you really want to get some work in is always good!

this is also something i do for assignments and other things in day to day life so just a helpful resource in general!

---

yeah so those are my main tips for writing a lot - do keep in mind that i’m naturally ambitious and also that i enjoy (or enjoy the results of) doing all of these things (even the harder ones!!!) but that may not be the same for everyone!! and not everyone writes as much or me, or even wants to in the first place! and that’s fine!

the most important thing to do is to cater to what you want. the goal you’re aiming for, the progress you want to make, etcetera.

at the end of the day, progress is progress - no matter how miniscule it may seem to you!! and also, quality is always better than quantity in my opinion!!!

this is way longer than i intended but i really hope it helps even in the slightest and if anyone else that’s a writer sees this and wants to rb with their own input (or comment!), feel free!! <3

#asks #:)#writing advice #writing tips #my writing tips #to save

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spaceradars · 4 years

Text

about M*A*S*H finale “Goodbye, Farewell and Amen”:

(the other post in which i talk about it is right here)

the time has come for me to tell you: today was the day. i just finished watching “Goodbye, Farewell and Amen” and i really don’t know what to do with my feelings, so i figured putting them in words would help (we’ll see how helpful it truly was when im done writing this anyway).

I’ve been knowing about M*A*S*H for years, but I didn’t grow up with it. No one watched it at home, no one talked about it at home... I know about it since I was around 13/14 and read The Perks of Being a Wallflower for the first time. In case you haven’t read the book, the protagonist recalls more than once of having the memory of watching this episode with his family. Since I read the book around seven years ago and have no memory of ever watching this series with my family, I had no idea of what that was like, but I was always curious about whatever this series was and how come it was so especial for this protagonist. Anyway, flashfoward to the beginning of this year, I begin to read/see posts about it here on tumblr, as well as to watch small bits of epidoes/random episodes. But a couple of months ago, I decided to actually watch the show. I mean, to give it a try. I was drawn into it not only for the premise, but for the fact that, being The Perks such an important book for me as a kid in her early teens, I somehow always felt curious about the show, and somewhat even connected to it. And I was not mistaken. You see, during the first episodes of s1 I felt like “meh, this is good but I don’t know if I’ll like it that much”. Great thing I gave it a try for longer than just a couple of episodes, because I suddenly felt so drawn to it I couldn’t stop watching (and I mean it, I just can’t watch more than 3/4 episodes of any series on the same day because I get bored, but with M*A*S*H I found myself suddenly watching two seasons in a week/7 days). I felt this connection to the series somehow, and I know it doesn’t make sense (or maybe it does? maybe some of you experienced it as well with this, or any other series and know how it feels) and yet I know it’s a real feeling. Is this feeling you get for some reason, and it’s more than just watching a show (or a movie, or reading a book, or listening to some music, or whatever) and loving it, is just the everything about it, all those reasons that make this experience of yours nearly (if not totally) perfect. And so, that’s what happened to me and M*A*S*H

And about this whole experience with this particular episode... well, it was some experience. Of course, you cannot watch an almost 50-year-old series and expect not to spoil anything to yourself in the course of the watch (11 seasons, no more no less) but this episode was so different to what I expected because I guess the experience was just... idk it was something else than just knowing about it.

Anyway, regarding the episode, I loved it. It was fantastic and no wonder it has all its reputation behind it. It was phenomenal. But as I kept on watching (particularly its second half) a thought appeared in my mind; that all these people, these people I had gotten to know in the course of eleven seasons... well, they were doing this thing they had been wanting to do for so long —to go home. And even if I was so happy, there was something that was like bothering me because... well, they were going home. What would be of them? Would they meet again? Would all this friendship they had formed over the course of the years remain? Would they write, phone, see each other again? And I know it’s fiction and I know they’re all characters, but that was all I could think about. I had this feeling I had only had once in my life, this especial feeling I had only experienced as an eleven-year-old, watching the ending of The Lord of the Rings trilogy for the first time. I swear it was like butterflies were making pressure on my stomach (or like I was being kicked, either way). I was thinking “oh, it’s the same feeling, but I’m not eleven any more, how come I still feel like that regarding another thing?” and there’s no answer, it’s just... I don’t know. I guess it’s all part of the experience. Or I guess it’s just my relationship with these movies/tv series. Or is both of them, or something else, I don’t know.

Look, I don’t even know what to say other than to talk about my own personal experience with this episode, with the series per se. I mean it’s been so helpful to me during these past months, and I know I can rewatch it any time but this whole experience was so important to me. This love I have for this series is just... too much (I’ll keep rewatching it, of course, and I’ll keep blogging about it so you don’t have to worry about missing me too much lol). But seriously tho, when I started M*A*S*H I was just looking for some sort of entertainment and I found much more than that, so much more.

Thank you all for reading my posts, for rb/liking them and for talking to me about the series, you’re all lovely <3 (aaaand expect many thoughs to come because all i’ve talked about here was myself but I’ll talk about the finale as well just you wait till i stop crying)

#i'm not crying you're crying #sofi watches m*a*s*h (in order)#mash #m*a*s*h #m*a*s*h 4077 #goodbye farewell and amen #mash s11 #mash 4077

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jksangelic · 5 years

Text

defanged (m)

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: smut, fluff, werewolf!au, a/b/o au, pwp

↳ pairing: mates werewolf!reader x werewolf/alpha!hoseok

↳ warnings: explicit sexual content, dom themes, breathplay, knotting, rough play, impregnation kink, overall general ”werewolf” smut themes, personality change, probably an uncomfortable amount of squishy mate talk

↳ summary: hoseok is an easy mate—as such that there are moments you question if he’s just human. so when his sudden spike of aggression emerges, you do your best to keep this unknown man at bay. or, alternatively: young alpha hoseok has started teething and he’s being a bratty puppy about it.

↳ note: ok so if you were with me a few months ago you would know that this is actually a collab fic with a couple other writers but life happens and here we are now *cowboy emoji*. this is really important to me bc they’re such *clench fist* great people and i’m happy i received such an opportunity to collab with them (’: pls make sure to rb/like/visit our collab masterlist if you want to be in-the-know of when they post their parts!

also i wanted to play around with the humorous sides of what werewolves might go thru (-: so, like, short attention spans and hating loud noises and typical big dog stuff. with the teething, just imagine that their growth stages are prolonged because they’re, idk, maybe immortal or something lol

(i…… i’m not used to writing fantasy can u tell)

((gif isn’t mine + his side profile ;-;))

↳ words: 9k+

You could hear every miniscule thread snap and unwind from themselves, a simple task such as painting your nails becoming less relaxing than it should be.

“Hobi,” you mumble once. You swipe down your thumb again, carmine red smoothing over brightly and with utmost delicacy. He doesn’t listen, another squeaking grind of his teeth against the material of his sweatshirt followed by a snapsnap.

“Hobi,” you say a little louder, flinching from annoyance and staining your cuticle with the polish. You curse your discontents, waiting for him to look at you but only meeting a turned neck and eyes still glued to his phone, an I’m listening portrayed by his demeanor but not really meaning it.

He chews hard on the neckline, a solid rip completely tearing several inches down his chest, eyes widening and attention finally caught when his chest is exposed hilariously.

“Hoseok!” you yell, slamming the closed bottle onto the coffee table and meeting his startled eyes, “I just bought that for you!”

He hopes to play it off and shrugs as you swipe it from his teeth, untwined fibers poking out sadly. You smooth your thumbs over the poor fabric, the third victim of his recent gnashing problem.

“Why do you keep doing this?” you ask sadly, a little more bummed about the beautiful sweatshirt than you should be.

He responds simply, “My gums itch.”

You roll your eyes at his childlike excuse, the full-sized man sitting cross-legged and distractedly in his corner of the couch with his phone paused on some game with horrendously annoying music. Was he really your alpha?

“Why don’t you do us some good and go hunting.” You offer, a lame excuse to get Hoseok out of your hair for a bit. It’s what you deserve. He rolls over with a harrumph, shoulder now bare from the growing tear in his clothing. It made you giggle slightly.

“I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me,” he deadpans, body static-still and stubborn more than ever.

Your breath fans his skin as you slither next to him, “I’m sorry, baby. Are you really hurting? Why don’t you go to the dentist?”

Hoseok pouts, taptaptapping away at his screen instead of looking at you, “I don’t want to go to the dentist. They just itch.” Even now, he licks over the burning sensation of his gums, clenching and grinding his teeth to ease the feeling in any way. You can hear the collisions of his canines, your own tingling uncomfortably from the sound.

You shake your head. “Maybe you’re teething,” you suggest in all seriousness. It wasn’t impossible; your kind’s lifespan certainly placing such life stages at seemingly unusual times. In any case, it would simply mean his canines were most likely growing longer and stronger.

He scoffs as if you’ve insulted him, “I’m well over my teething days, Y/N. They just itc—"

“Say that one more time and I’ll neuter you,” you huff. When he lacks a kinder response, you push yourself off the couch to tidy your bedroom instead. He clearly wasn’t in the mood to have a serious conversation with you at the moment, and despite its rarity, you could use your space.

Your mate was in no way irritable; in fact, Hoseok was one of the sunniest alpha’s you’ve ever encountered. His kindness differentiated him from others, bearing his mark (and one day, hopefully, his pups) certainly deeming you quite lucky. He was a soft lover above all, never making you feel as a subordinate or anything of the like.

Perhaps it’s why you two were clashing heads recently, his personality completely contradictory from his true self. Never does he ignore you, let alone snap at you.

Folding your clothes (and purposefully leaving his items in a pile on his side of the bed in spite), you exhale heavily and leave for the living room once again, disregarding your now smeared manicure.

Hoseok beams at the shoe aisle, producing more light than whatever was already lit in the store. Due to his “issue”, stopping by the mall was a given. Two more of his shirts and even one of your necklaces mangled and chewed up like he was the Tasmanian Devil.

Petting his hair fondly, you give him a nuzzle to his cheek, “I’ll be in the next store over, puppy. Come meet me when you’re done.” He nods happily, wide-frame glasses bobbing atop his pretty nose.

You beeline for the department store in hopes of purchasing a few extra things for yourself before Hoseok sniffs you out. It’s immediate heaven when you sift through the dresses, picking a few out and dangling them happily on your fingers before bouncing from rack to rack. By the time you reach the dressing rooms, your arm aches from the pile you’ve accumulated.

“Hey there, you can go ahead and take that first stall right there,” a man directs, tall and intimidating and rather fucking handsome, you think. “My name’s Jaebum. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll go grab it for you.”

You bat your lashes and mouth a Thanks before waltzing into your room, appreciating his kindness perhaps a little too much. Despite your complex and absolute relationship status, it didn’t hurt to peek at what’s on display. It was only right!

You try on more than what you even remembered picking out, velvets and satins and the softest of cottons all hugging you warmly with every piece, a bittersweet happiness when everything seemed to fit you perfectly. The last dress, though, is your only hiccup. Material skin-tight and ending just a little above your ankles; you harrumph. Almost a perfect streak.

Dress still on (at least it zipped), you peek through the door and spot handsome Bum at the front. “Psst, um, do you mind getting me a couple more sizes in this? I think it was near the wall to the right.”

He grins and nods, almost grateful of the fact that you asked him to do so. Why was he even in this section? Should it concern you?

You watch as he leaves, back muscles showcased quite lavishly in his pristinely pressed suit.

Should it be more concerning that it didn’t?

You take a moment to look at the dress once more, smoothing over the velvet that bunched snugly at your waist and checking out your own ass. The fabric might rip if you sneeze too hard but you look pretty damn splendid.

“Found a few more and got you another color as well,” Jaebum says upon return. You almost snap your neck away from the mirror, hoping he didn’t see you ogling your bum. What a speedy fellow.

You politely open the door wider and reach for the hangers, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Jaebum doesn’t fully hand it to you though, briefly but noticeably skimming over your body, “I think that size is cute on you too. You have a really beautiful figure.”

Maybe it should concern you. You chuckle awkwardly and look elsewhere. Please just give me my dresses, you almost say, now self-conscious in your skin.

“It’s even better when she’s naked. I would know,” Hoseok near growls, appearing out of thin air. He swipes the hangers from behind Jaebum, who is surprised beyond all comprehension of the word, and pushes you back into the room. You’ve never seen him look so enraged, face serious and twitching as if he would shift at any given moment.

“Th-There aren’t allowed to be more than one person in a—,” Jaebum nervously starts from the other side before the door is slammed on his nose.

You didn’t even see Jaebum’s reaction, nor do you ponder it when Hoseok drops your beautiful dresses and thrusts your back against the mirror with his hand to your neck, deliberately making you yelp loud enough for others to hear. You recoil as he bares his fangs, sharp and taunting, threatening to devour you whole and you know this isn’t your Hobi.

He doesn’t get the chance for whatever else he had in store when pure vehemence engulfs you, daring to stand your ground with a low guttural snarl and shoving him off. Your strength is nothing to snicker at, his shoulders nearly hitting the other wall despite his stature.

“What’s wrong with you?” you didn’t even care if everyone in the damn store could hear you, “Don’t you dare touch me!”

Regret instantly arises in his eyes, his hands reaching out to comfort you in any way but hesitant in the warning. He would rather die than hurt you, he was sorry, he was so sorry.

Your body can feel his sorrow and want, itching to touch him in any way but you push it down. The little she-wolf in you whimpers as you struggle out of the dress and leave him alone in the stall, begging for you to go back and forgive him.

Jaebum stands, bewildered, outside of the rooms. He sure did rue the moment he ever made advances on you. Not a word is spoken as you pass by and exit the store.

It doesn’t make it any easier when Hoseok follows you closely. “Baby, I’m sorry. Please.”

“You were going to shift because of some stupid sales clerk! You could’ve gotten us in some deep shit with the order,” you scold, “We’re going home. Right now.” This was a double-edged sword, you didn’t even get to purchase anything. Though your mood is far too foul to continue.

“But I didn’t! No one saw anything. I just lost my cool for a second, I promise. I know better.” Even Hoseok strains to keep up your pace, car already in view and goddamn you walk fast.

“Do you? Are you seriously justifying your actions? You need to uphold your responsibilities, Hoseok. You’re not new to this.” He finds that he despises when you lecture him this way, gums and skin and everything prickly and he wish he could gnaw on something right about now.

It was odd to tell him these things, taking into consideration that his role is considerably higher than yours and that he hardly ever faults as an alpha. If there wasn’t something going on biologically, what else could it be?

He’s obviously straining to keep his composure now, jaw slacked and knuckles cracking in his fist, “How am I supposed to do that now? It won’t happen again. It’s over.”

“Then what about your shitty mood swings? We don’t argue, Hoseok. You’re not mean, you’re not easily agitated, and you’re not a fucking paper shredder. Neither are you aggressive to your own mate,” you throw in his face, unsurprised when he cowers again at the thought. It’s like the man was on his period.

Now that you recall, the last time you’ve ever seen him so angry at you is when you watched Endgame without him, and that should say enough. This was just all so new and unbecoming of someone with his level of reputation.

“You know I didn’t mean to do that. I never want to hurt you…” he leads as you beat him to the driver’s side of the car, watching him over the hood for him to finish his sentence, “I’m just—”

“You what, Hoseok?”

He jostles the door handle a few times, a rep of unsettling clacks making him uneasy.

“Can you unlock the car?”

“You what?” you say a little louder, entirely avoiding his question.

“Goddammit,” he hisses, “Just let me in and we can talk about it when we get home.” You scan his face in search of anything. For the truth. For him to own up to what it is. What you get is nothing.

So you smile, “No.”

He stands cluelessly as you unlock your door and hop in, starting the car with a satisfying roll and opening his window just enough to see his addled facial expression.

“What are you doing?” he deadpans.

“If you won’t admit it then you obviously don’t take me seriously, and if you won’t take me seriously then I’ll take my car home by myself. So, toodles!”

He smirks nervously, slender fingers sifting through his hair, “Y/N, c’mon. Just let me in.” He’s even more staggered when you start reversing out of your spot. Eyes widening hilariously, he cusses under his breath as he walks cautiously towards the door.

“Have a fun run, baby. Better get home soon,” you feign pity, “looks like it’s going to start raining pretty soon.”

“We live an hour away!”

You drive down the row, turning on your signal just in case someone needed to know. Shucks, you were such a good driver, even in the parking lot.

Hoseok thinks otherwise, anger and panic so vivid that you can feel it from this distance. Walking Time Bomb even begins to jog, not willing to risk your bluff.

“Okay! Okay, I admit it. I may be going through something…” his wavering voice trickles into your head. “You’re right.’

You let him catch up to you, eyes shifty and fingers fiddling. “Hi, darling. Can you say that one more time? In person?” His chest puffs.

“I already said it once,” he begs.

Was his pride this important? Did the strangled mutt deep down change your Hoseok for the worst? An impatient car behind you honks and you shrug.

“You’re making people wait. I’m going to leave.”

“Jesus fucking—okay. I think I’m teething. Or something involving my dental state. It’s making me fucking grumpy and it’s painful and I want to punch a fucking wall because it’s stupid that this phase is so late.” You unlock his door mid-sentence, his body falling into his seat before he continues to blabber on.

“Oh, little puppy,” you slide your sunglasses from atop your head down to the bridge of your nose, “Don’t be so sensitive. ‘S like a human adult getting braces.”

The week passes by agonizingly slow. And that wasn't necessarily because Hoseok bitched and complained, throwing temper tantrums when the remote had fallen between the couch cushions or throwing his pants stormily when they would catch on his ankles and make him hobble about like a disabled chicken.

Or maybe it was because of that.

You dare to creak the door to his den (pun intended), having locked himself in such confinement to work through the paperwork that's been piling on his mahogany desk for days. He looks worn around the eyes, long brown hair pushed back with his fake reading glasses. You knock three times as if he couldn't already sense your presence. When he looks at you through his lashes, he nods for you to proceed.

"Hi, baby. How's the work going?" you ask with a honey-dipped edge.

He shrugs, "A lot of affairs from other packs that I have to go over. I should be done soon."

You slink behind his office chair and wrap your arms around his shoulders, "Mm, why don't you take a break and have a nice little bath with me?" He doesn't budge one inch, straightening out a stack of papers before stapling them neatly and tucking them into one of his drawers.

"I need to finish this. I've been pushing it back until the last minute."

Rolling him out a bit, you slide onto his lap and rest on his chest. Your touch always lulls a serene sensitivity from his skin, a natural effect that only you are capable of. But his muscles remain taut. Bones stiff and budging none whatsoever. Stuttering, you try again, "You've been working for hours. I'm lonely. Just an hour--,"

"Y/N. I'm warning you. Get off."

She-wolf unconsciously warns you to stand down upon this statement. Was he being serious? He's warning you? You search his blank face, waiting for him to crack a smile or lift you up and attack you with kisses. When he doesn't, you test the waters.

Your nails scratch the bare skin under his shirt, "H-Hoseokie, we haven't had sex in so long," you whine. Invading his space, however, only sets him off more.

He growls, deep and meant to be menacing. It takes brutal force to push yourself to move, a weight halting your ministrations. His word, no matter how rare it be, was your law. Do you dare defy that?

You unbutton his pants the same time he threatens, "Continue any further and see what happens." He's breathier than normal and that gives you some satisfaction. He was your mate, after all. Eternal fulfillment was your duty.

The feeling of his heavy and growing bulge, nestling in the crook of his thigh, is a success all in its own. You purr and rub your legs together, licking at Hoseok's neck lovingly and waiting for him to give in. "Hobi, you're already--ah!"

Your view spins as Hoseok scruffs you to his desk, cold wood pressed to your cheek and wrists somehow pinned behind you. Yiping in fear, you struggle in his harsh imprisonment.

"You don't fucking listen," he complains, voice balancing on the line between speaking and yelling.

"Hoseok! L-Let me g-go--," you start before he grinds himself into your ass, boner prominent and angry as it prods. He replaces the hand to your neck with his mouth, laving and suckling all the way down your shoulder.

"Can't do that. I warned you and you disobeyed me. You disobey your alpha, Y/N?"

"No, I'm sorry--," you squeak before your dress is thrown over your back and a sharp slap comes down onto your ass.

You don’t believe the sound that comes out of your throat, pressing your thighs together and wiggling the pain away. “J-Jung Hoseok! What is—” Another slap, harder than the first.

The nerves tingle all the way down to your toes as your eyes roll back. You moan once more, unsolicited and without restraint. Hoseok is content with your reaction, not expecting you to squirm so nicely because of your punishment.

"You like this, don't you? I can smell you leaking like some submissive whore," he snarls with an edge of disappointment. You're beyond mortified of how he speaks to you, although not inclined to deny his words. Not when he spanks you once more, with such force that a scream is rewarded and your back arches in euphoric pain.

"Hoseok, no more, please. I'll--I'll cum if you keep, ugh," you blabber over yourself. He thinks you look prettily pathetic drooling on his desk, so close to spilling over the edge from being physically humiliated.

"Tch, so weak," he comments before releasing your wrist and letting you collapse to the floor. "Are you done?" The question both turns you on and pisses you off, emotions swirling into something self-destructive.

Crawling on the carpet and up his leg, you nuzzle into his bulge, "But I still didn't get what I want." You don’t even ponder where this behavior is coming from; slinking out of you like a dog with its tail between its legs. Perhaps his own change of manner influenced one in you.

He could laugh at how easy you were being, wondering when he ever mated with someone who acts like such a sexually-obsessed brat. "Oh?" he prompts, "So you think you get to make the calls here?"

Licking the hem of his boxers in response, he doesn't feel pleased with your lack of words. You perk up when he shuffles his cock out from the confines of his layers. It’s almost instinctual, not wasting any time to pepper kisses and kitten licks to his tip. God, he even smells amazing. You don't care if you look ridiculous, feverish with your actions like he'd take away your precious treat if you weren't cautious.

He snickers at you, petting your hair with an unexpectedly soft touch. Your heart-shaped irises peer up, knowing he loves your eye contact when you suck him off. Watching the blush spread on his face means that you must be doing your job correctly. Besides, not even the Big Bad Wolf can deny when he feels his pleasure.

He almost can’t stand the self-righteousness that oozes off you. If you thought you were in control, you were dead-wrong. "You want my cock that bad, huh, baby?" your love bunches as much of your hair as he can with his fist, "Then fucking take it."

Then his girthy dick shoves to the back of your throat without warning, hips to your nose and thrustingthrustingthrusting as far as he can.

You'd sputter if your mouth wasn't so full, eyes overflowing with tears and throat constricting in hopes that he'll let you go. When he doesn't and continues to grind himself down your mouth, you dig your nails into his thighs and whine on his persistent cock. It doesn’t matter, the digging crescents in his thighs rousing him even further and even hoping those pretty nails of yours leave marks for him. He’d accept no less.

Hoseok thrusts twice more before pulling you off and watching you cough maniacally. The tears that gathered were now running down your face, accompanied with your saliva that leaks from your chin and onto the floor.

You couldn't breathe, you couldn't ask him to stop, and you loved it.

He cocks a brow as you struggle to catch up, "We'll stop here. You're obviously not made for this."

Pitiful is the only word he can use to describe how quickly you paw and beg for him, desperately wrapping your fingers around the base of his member and pumping him just the way he likes it, "No! I can take it, please use me." Your unstable hand massages the cum-saliva mix as well as it can, a small victory celebrated when he bucks into you.

"Mm," his thumb wipes a stray tear from your lip, "You're so beautiful when you cry. Will you sit on the desk for me?"

You don't hesitate to obey, being careful to hop up when your bum is so sore but otherwise eager for him to touch you again. When he places himself between your legs, your body hums.

"I'm... I'm not well, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you," he says, voicing his first concern after what's already happened. With his brows knit in concern and his slender fingers rubbing calmly at your sides, it's almost as if the Hoseok you know has returned. The Hobi that makes your pancakes just a little overcooked like you prefer. Who makes you a blanket nest when you’re feeling down. And will gladly give up his last bite of anything to watch you munch happily even after you’ve finished your own portion.

In some way, this was your same Hobi. Maybe not so sweet and innocent but more on the receiving end. Spending his days tending to you out of pure love and pleasure to see you bloom; it was just your turn to return the favor.

So you kiss him with fervor and mold your chest to his, feeling the scorching heat that emanates from him. He must seriously be straining himself, you think. His canines graze your lips and you know he's trying his best to hold back; to not completely obliterate you.

"I want to help you," you whisper against his mouth. You implore him and he doesn’t hesitate to take your offer.

You extend your legs as he rushes to pull down your thong, throwing it to the side, and embracing you with another kiss, all tongue and pants. Some of his documents get ruffled under your steadying hands and he shoves them off altogether, a rain of really important paper littering the room. He comes in a little too excitedly, slamming a drawer closed with his thigh and even scooting his desk across the floor.

“God fucking dammit,” he swears, your chuckles covering his wet lips. “I’m… a mess… not thinking straight. Need to cum inside you.”

You purr when his head rubs against your sex, an electric sensation tearing through you. “Want you to knot me,” you whisper. A mistake in its own because he’s practically moaning into your mouth when you say such things.

“Yeah, baby? Want your cunt pumped full? Hm?” he asks into your jaw, all the while spreading your legs as far as they can split with his strong hands. His hips begin to circle like he’s stalling as long as possible and that rouses you up in a way.

You nod with sultry eyes and chant, “Yes. Yes, yes.” By the second yes does he all but slam into you, your final confirmation his endgame.

Hoseok was truly blessed in size, something no mere human could ever match. His length alone would make you double over in ecstasy if he allowed you the space to. Squeezing around him only makes him fuck you deeper, both wanting and needing more of each other than you already have. You were made for him, and him you.

You whimper as he pulls out, his head tantalizing your g-spot before ramming back inside and forcing an angelic cry. “H-Hoseokie… Please, your pups. I want to have your pups”

The sounds of his hips against your skin with your moans and the subtle creak of his desk is almost humorous, you were fucking like dogs. Even more so when he pushes you flat against the wood by the front of your throat, his thumb tucked gently on an airway as your tongue flops out in simple bliss.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” he snarls with a particularly evil drill to your core that curls your toes. “Nothing to me would be more satisfying than to breed you.”

Your throat constricts and you cough, your tiny hands tugging at his fingers while barely being able to pry his grip. You can’t resist moaning through clenched teeth still, even when the prettiest wine red pours into his irises. Hoseok holds back incredibly well, despite having shifting eyes, his total control never fails to astonish you. It was years worth of training and you thank the stars that it was useful in a time where you were literally stuffed with his cock.

“And you’re so willing; so obedient now. You like when I fuck you like this. Just want that beautiful pussy bred until you’re spilling, right?” he chuckles with means to humiliate when your eyes flutter and drool spills from your swollen lips, “What a mate.”

You tighten, an embarrassing amount of arousal spilling and sticking to your love. He doesn’t mind one bit, rather, losing composure for a brief moment, “Ugh, so good.”

His hand suddenly withdraws from your tender neck and you sputter an attempt to catch your breath, a fleeting moment before he wraps his arms under your knees and prompts you to hang onto him when he stands. How quickly he’s able to switch positions is hot in itself, but the thought is also lost when you sink down even further on his dick.

“Oh, oh my god,” you wail pathetically, wrapping yourself around him and trying to lift your trembling body to ease how full you feel, even for just a moment.

“Hm? I thought you wanted this, baby. Wanted my complete, unforgiving love for you. Isn’t that why you walked into my office?” he smirks similarly to how you imagine the devil would. His hands find leverage against the closest wall, also shoving you against it and resuming his pace into you.

This, to whichever persona was hiding deep down in Hoseok, was divine. Incredible. You would die for this man even without the bond. He was literally screwing you braindead.

He pants, warm and sweaty and shirt somehow unbuttoned halfway down (when did you do that?), “I thought you wanted my knot? Not anymore?”

Your pupils blow out as you shake your head, you were so close.

“Ah, then I’ll knot you. I’ll knot you but you have to beg,” he says with a wink. Bastard.

“Please, please knot me, baby. Breed me and let me have your pups,” you sob, “Fill me up until I can’t take it anymore, Alpha, please—”

He jabs incessantly until you’re entirely maxed out, sloppy smacks echoing out further than the den and his growls emanating when you drag your sharp nails down his back, the fabric tearing under your fingers. Hoseok grinds his full length into you, reaching beyond the end of your walls.

“S-Stay,” he orders. He slows as the base of his cock swells and even though you asked for it, it’s always a little uncomfortable. You can’t even fathom how it feels for your mate, his sudden groans and the absolute necessity to lave at your neck only scraping at the surface of any real indication.

Hoseok told you once that it was similar to both being overstimulated and having a sudden spike of energy, which could explain his touchiness. It was cute though, and kinda hot.

Nestled deep inside, you can subtly feel the ropes of semen beginning to pool. You rest your head over his shoulder, buzzing from the intensity of it all and watching as the walls move and shift into the ones of your bedroom.

Hoseok’s hoarse voice surprises you, “Fuck, I’m so dizzy.”

The bed is a heavenly difference from the den’s desk and wall, your heart pounding a little too hardly when he places one of his pillows lengthwise under your back for extra squish. He was so cute.

But then he collapses on you.

“Oof—I’ve never seen you like that before. My ass hurts,” you state dreamily.

“Oh, love. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asks seriously, lifting his head to study your face in case you lie. The red dissipated long before, his deep brown eyes twinkling down at you like they always do.

“You were a little rough,” you feign, pouting and pushing around his face with paw-folded fists. He thinks you look like an idiot, a cute idiot.

“I’m sorryyyy,” he whines, burying his face into your chest and wiggling around like a fish. His knot moves with him and you wince.

“Hoseok, stay still.”

Being showered in a sudden attack of kisses is what he responds with, not even aware of the task at hand and fake crying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to hurt you—I—oh no.”

You yipe as semen sloshes down your leg, shoving your palm into Hobi’s (who is undoubtedly back to his usual self) cheek and trying your best to not panic.

“Goddammit, Jung Hoseok! Stay still!”

beep boop hope you liked, leave some feedback if you did!

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dio-theshitpost-brando · 4 years

Text

This will be a massive list that’s basically, in order: DNI/DNF, About, Rules, Main AU description, Muse List.

Sorry it’s so long. I’ll be editing the pages again, but it is kind of important to have a pinned post since pages aren’t viewable on mobile.

(I will likely edit things off and on and I may make temporary posts referencing to here when I do that; particularly with the muse list. Aka, working on adding George even tho he’s baby...)

Do NOT interact/follow me if you:

Fit the general criteria (Anti-LGBT+ (including excluding any part of the community), Racist, Sexist, Etc. If your shit can be seen as hate speech Don’t Follow.)

If your blog is mostly NSFW/Kink. If I can skim your blog and not know, I don’t really care.

If you mostly rb discourse/drama. Like the above. Doesn’t matter if I can’t immediately tell, but once it’s a majority of your blog content it makes me anxious.

If you ship incest (J0/na/D10 ESPECIALLY COUNTS WITH THIS), because that shit is a huge trigger. Yes. Legitimate trigger. Don’t argue this with me.

If you ship underaged and adult characters, too. Please don’t. There’s people out there who like these things or don’t care, follow them instead, not me.

About:

First off, this is kind of a mashup shitpost/ask/roleplay blog, though... I do usually tend to roleplay with very specific people (and my format is weird, but has an on blog reason to be), and tend to still use images in those. I’d rather not have a bunch of blogs so I kind of push it all into a couple, so feel free to come at me with anything! I try to be as inclusive as I can be. Though there are a few rules that weren’t covered in DNI.

Also, all blog “canon” overlaps with my Jotaro blog! (jotaro-hoards-belts) They both stem from the same AUs.

Rules:

Obviously, no asks about ships that would be included in the above list.

While heavier content asks aren’t forbidden, I’d say to handle them with care. (Please consider the muse in question when considering how to bring up trauma. Aka I’d rather a “good” Dio not be taunted with his mother’s death; I’ve some headcanons that make that especially bad.)

Know that any triggering content in my stuff will be tagged and even if it’s of a certain variety I will not romanticize it. But I have some heavy headcanons and AU developments.

While muses can have a bit more freedom in reacting to muses on assumption, I’d rather muns and anons be openminded. For example, muses can be shitty about traumatic experiences, muns and anons cannot do that; however, anything that would relate to muses’ gender/orientation/race, I’d rather not deal with from muses OR muns.

AU Explanation:

With the rules out of the way, time to explain the AU situation. First thing’s first, is that actually all of this is kind of a multiverse situation. Think like Spiderverse or something like that, yeah.

I ALWAYS tag my AUs, now. I don’t have a list of which tags are for which AUs, but just clicking them and skimming them SHOULD clear some things up; if that doesn’t help just ask! I’m aware I do kind of a lot and it’s not always chronological, so I’m always A-Okay explaining things!

Fateswap:

Fateswap is basically a Jonathan-Dio roleswap. Though, slap it with a heavy dose of butterfly effect and it basically means “oops everything’s different!” Granted, there are kind of 2 timelines, but I use completely different tags for those muses, so it should be easy to tell which is which. The one I usually use is also referred to as “Fateswap-B”, and it’s essentially the “main” timeline, now.

The general gist of the AU is Vampire Jonathan and Hamon User Dio. There’s other changes too, since I refer to it as “Fate” swap, not “Role” swap. Dio has George in the AU, for instance. There’s lots of changes, but instead of making this longer, I will just say that there’s always sending asks to muses. (Or to me, but it’s a character ask blog for a reason, yeah?)

This blog will stay more focused on Part 1 of the AU, outside of events. If you’d like to ask about other parts, my ‘Jotaro’ blog is at part 6 in the AU!

Muse List:

Name: Dio Joestar Display name: Ham!Dio Age/DOB: 25 // April 20 Height: ~5'10"/178cm AU: Fateswap-B ;; fateswapSCRATCH.exe AU Overview: Dio turns Jonathan into a vampire, learns hamon, then- wait. Oops Time traveled, learned life (more like death) spoilers and decided to apologize instead of go for the kill. Extra info: By the power of unexpected time travel and universe hopping he was set on a path that basically can be summed up as “Fateswap but mostly everyone lives.” Has since bettered himself and, to split all associations with a certain man, has just taken his adoptive family’s last name. He avoids fighting as best as he can. He lives with Erina who helps him take care of his son, George. He also has been adopted by or adopted various JoJos. Give him the chance and he’ll adopt more. Also, did I mention? Dude fucking hates moose.

Name: Erina Pendleton Display name: FS!Erina Age/DOB: 23 // March 18 Height: ~5'10"/178cm AU: Fateswap-B ;; fateswapSCRATCH.exe AU Overview: [See Dio’s entry.] Extra info: Lives with Dio to help raise George; only slightly regrets it. With her around you can’t roast Dio in any way that matters, she’s got it covered. She takes no shit and is always prepared to fight, and isn’t scared of much; regularly tussles a hungry vampire. Loves moose only because Dio hates them. Despite that, and other ways in which she harasses Dio she’d consider him her best friend at this point. If you care for your life don’t imply they are anything more in front of her. She helps Vampjo hunt for food; or rather, does it for him. Definitely considers Jonathan to be another dear friend, and truthfully nothing more.

Name: Jonathan Joestar Display name: Vampjo Age/DOB: 24 // April 4 Height: ~6'5"/195cm AU: Fateswap-B ;; fateswapSCRATCH.exe AU Overview: [See Dio’s entry.] Extra Info: Despite needing to eat people to survive, he’s quite hesitant to kill. With Erina’s help he eats anyway, to stop from attacking innocent people, or the few people he cares about. He definitely has a lot bottled up, though doesn’t like to speak much until he warms up. He also tends to try to stay to himself, though is slowly becoming more comfortable around people since completely isolating himself proves to just be self destructive. As such he goes from staying at Windknight’s Lot, to staying in the manor, moving between the two depending on how he feels. He is far from completely trusting Dio again, but does his best to be at least moderately friendly. Mostly for Erina and George’s sakes.

Name: Dio Pendleton Display name: ??? Age/DOB: 23 before death. // April 20 Height: ~5'10"/178cm AU: Previously Fateswap-A ;; fateswapDisk1.exe Currently lives in between universes ;; withinTheFurthestRing.exe AU Overview: Turned JoJo into a vampire, tried to kill him but only destroyed his body, married Erina, had George, then got killed and body snatched. Basically Hamon Dio without the cross universe stuff. Also is now a dullahan, of sorts. Nice. Extra info: His head will come off if his ribbon is removed. Also, since he’s a really busted ass ghost who is NEVER invisible he drains the energy of the surrounding area like a bitch, making places he goes cold. Used to use Joestar-Brando as last names but after finding the rest of his family he took Erina’s last name like mostly everyone else did. They just chill in between universes, now. Also the best way to describe how he acts is Hamon Dio but if the only thing he felt bad about was disrespecting Erina and not All Of The Bullshit He Did. Has been recently given a bit of a gift...

#ooc #figure seeing blogs i'd like to interact with and gettng more traffic is a good time to make this all a lil more clear #i need to work on thos requests then i can get to a few more content related asks!

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jincherie · 6 years

Text

a lullaby on canvas | ksj [m]

✧ pairing; seokjin x reader ✧ genre; neighbour au, siren au, artist au, fluff, smut ✧ words; 15k ✧ rating; m ✧ warnings; explicit sexual content; oral (receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial/control, light choking, unprotected sex, creampie, marking/hickeys, minor siphoning of energy, pet names, uh I feel like there’s more but I suppose I’ll remember later! ✧ notes; happy birthday seokjin!!! also behold, my emerging coughchokingcough kink that is probably spawning thanks to a certain SOMEONES *narrows eyes at half the crack chat*

Your neighbour, as far as you knew, was mute. You weren’t sure what exactly had happened, but you figured that perhaps it contributed to the stunning works he created with paints and clay. You were curious, and that curiosity led you to grow closer – but perhaps, in growing closer and getting to know him, you were getting a little in over your head.

posted; 04.12.2018

gif source: @sweaterpawsjimin (I’ll link to the excact post in a rb)

It was with a sigh that you allowed your head to fall back with a soft thump against the headrest, the hum of your car’s engine fading as it cooled and drew to a halt. Now that the air-conditioner was off, it was quickly beginning to grow stuffy inside the cabin, yet still you remained in place a moment longer. You’d just finished a particularly long day at work and needed a few moments to collect yourself before you emerged from this safe little haven to face the world once more.

You loved your job, you really did, but some days... some days it was particularly draining. Childcare in itself was an oft underpaid industry, especially considering the hard work and hours required, but when the children were having a bad day, it usually didn’t mean well for you as staff either. There were a few children that attended the centre where you worked, endearing triplets with chocolate hair and big green eyes from a lovely wolf couple, and most of the time they spent the day attached to you by the hip. Today, however, the pups had arrived in a mood, and had retained it throughout the whole day—and when you were dealing with toddlers, that usually spelt trouble, and a lot of tears and tantrums. So after such a day, you were understandably exhausted, and had only managed to make it through your shift thanks to the promise of last night’s leftovers waiting for you in the fridge.

Chicken noodle soup, with rich flavouring and hearty chunks of meat… god, your mouth was watering just thinking about it.

Letting out another huff, you grasped your bag and eased open the car door; you didn’t bother attempting to hide the groan that escaped you since the basement floor of your apartment building was practically empty anyway. Even so, you weren’t a fan of the way the sound echoed.

You managed to take a few steps before the loud THUD of a car door shutting broke through the air, bouncing heavily off the concrete walls, and making you jump about five feet in the air from fright as it alerted you that you weren’t the only person down there like you thought. You were too startled to swear, whipping around with wide eyes only to falter and flush slightly as you caught sight of the basement’s only other current resident.

Kim Seokjin, the man who occupied the apartment right next to yours, was standing by the boot of his sleek black car in all his glory, perhaps a dozen or so bags settled at his feet. You caught the huff as it left his mouth, watching as he bent and began gathering bags in each hand. His dusty rose locks were tousled, similar to how you imagined they would be after a trip to the beach ruffled by the breeze, and his smooth, honeyed skin contrasted nicely with the thin, white material of his shirt as it stretched over his broad shoulders and back. A flush of heat washed over you as it usually did whenever you came within close proximity of him, knees wobbling slightly. You cursed this schoolgirl reaction as always, but couldn’t help it—not when he always looked so good and had such an air about him that drew you in so completely.

You blinked and suddenly he was attempting to lift the bags he had in hand, what looked to be four heavy bags in each grip, and felt your throat grow parched at the sight of his biceps and forearms bulging, veins rising to the surface from the strain and tension in his arms. Lord. You really needed a moment.

A moment you didn’t really have, however—you quickly realised you were just standing there with your jaw on the floor, ogling, as he struggled, and hurried to correct that.

“Ah, hey Seokjin!” you urged your limbs into motion, thankful you didn’t stumble on your wobbly knees. “Did you want some help?”

The male jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, spinning as quickly as the load in his grasp would allow to stare at you with wide eyes. When he saw it was you however, a soft grin slipped onto his full lips and he lifted his fingers from where they were weighed down with bags in his best attempt at a wave of sorts. In response to your question, he nodded, dusty pink locks sticking to his forehead slightly from the small amount of perspiration he’d managed to work up. You had to give it to him though, it was so stuffy down here that had that been you, you’d no doubt be drowning in sweat by now.

At his acceptance of your offer to help, you quickly made sure your own bag was adjusted over your back and scurried over, picking up the remaining shopping bags. The contents seemed to range from groceries to small metal tools that you’d glimpsed a few times before but never caught the name of, no doubt things he used in his craft. Now that you were even closer to him than before, your nose picked up the familiar, enticing scent it usually caught mixed in with the cinnamon and vanilla aroma the male carried—brine, a peculiar addition to the mix but somehow, it worked. You loved the ocean after all, so you didn’t exactly mind that he always smelt a little bit like it.

The male waited patiently for you as you picked up the remaining bags, silence filling the air, but you didn’t really mind it at all. In fact, it was to be expected.

“Did you want me to take some off your hands?” you asked, smiling a little when the male shook his head. “Alright, let’s get them up to your place then.”

He offered you a bright grin, pearly teeth flashing briefly before he turned and began to move towards the stairs that led to the first floor and lobby. You admired the toned muscles of his back as you followed, in awe of how his body didn’t even lean or sway from the weight he was carrying, unlike yours. God, this man was unreal. You really hoped he couldn’t feel the weight of your stare. Once more, silence filled the air between you, broken only by your soft humming and the sound of your footsteps slapping against the cool concrete of the steps. Again, you weren’t surprised by the lack of conversation, and didn’t really mind it. You’d be kind of a dick to be bothered about it.

Your neighbour, Kim Seokjin, was mute, after all.

You didn’t really know what had happened, had never dared to ask the details since it felt too, well… too invasive. But you knew that you had never heard him utter a word, and the friends of his that you’d met had confirmed your suspicions after the first time you’d ever run into him. Seokjin didn’t talk, couldn’t talk— you mused that perhaps that was why he poured so much of his time, effort, and soul into other mediums.

The trip up to the floor the two of you resided on was fairly quick, and before you knew it the male was attempting to fish his keys from the deep pocket of his ripped jeans. You were almost going to offer to help when he finally found them, sliding the metal into the lock and turning it with a satisfying click. To be honest, you expected him to just liberate you of the bags and bid you farewell at the door, but to your complete and utter surprise, he marched right in, turning to beckon you after him with a hand. Giddy with excitement, you adjusted your grip on the bags and scuttled in after him, eyes already swinging around in awe. You’d waited and wanted so long to get another glimpse of this place.

Seokjin was an artist, and the artworks he had hung and displayed around his apartment, both complete and otherwise, were almost addictive to look at. The first time you’d come in here, not long after you’d moved in next door, you’d been lucky enough to glimpse a few of the paintings he had been working on—one set up on an easel in the living area, only at the beginning of its journey, and others leaning against the wall in various stages of completion. Even though it wasn’t finished, something about the way his works were, the way the brush strokes swirled and ended, the colours popped off of the canvas, and the composition of the image—it all caught your gaze and kept it for hours, days after. You’d found yourself thinking about his works long after that initial visit, and even now you could remember vividly how they’d looked. They weren’t anywhere to be seen now, of course, and it wasn’t paintings but small sculptures and various clay body parts that lay in partial completion across the coffee table in their stead.

With a tinge of regret, you tore your eyes from the clay shapes and hurried to follow after the pink-haired male, finding him just around the corner in the kitchen. He was plopping his bags on the floor, having taken up the bench space with some already, and you joined him in depositing the bags down. He began to rifle through them, searching for something, and you allowed your attention to wander for a brief moment as your gaze flitted about distractedly.

“Ah!” the noise escaped you suddenly at the pleasant surprise flooding your senses, eyes lighting up as you caught sight of a large canvas sitting alone on the dark wood of the kitchen table. “Oh, wow!”

You didn’t even notice Seokjin’s gaze on you as you shuffled around the bench to get closer to the painting, an awed grin already tugging your lips as you scanned the canvas before you. The colours appealed to you instantly, soft sky blues that blended and curled into deep turquoise and aqua, sea green in the places where it caught the light. It wasn’t really a portrait of anything distinct and distinguishable, yet you could tell that it encapsulated something from the nameless emotion that began to rise and swell in your chest beneath your lungs. You didn’t know what it was about it exactly that evoked such a strong reaction in you, but you loved it. Your gaze flicked to the side where you saw a few words scribbled onto a piece of A4 note paper, only one remaining that hadn’t been crossed out— ‘lullaby’.

“Seokjin, this is beautiful!” you gushed, turning to give him a bright grin. You felt your cheeks flush when you found his gaze already on you, plump lips tugged into a smile of their own and dark eyes curved pleasantly. “I like everything I’ve ever seen of yours, but I think I like this the most of all.”

You could have sworn his cheeks flushed as he placed the item in his hand onto the bench for a moment amongst the other groceries he’d unpacked. You wondered what he was going to do as his free hand lifted now, and nearly choked as he brought it to his lips to blow you a kiss, before holding up a finger heart. The action wrought a surprised laugh from you, cheeks hurting a little from how big you grinned. An idiot. He was an idiot, but it was oddly endearing.

“You’re welcome,” you managed to say, turning your gaze back to the painting for a moment in attempt to disperse the awkwardness beginning to creep upon you. “God… it really is beautiful Seokjin.”

You admired it for a moment before your gaze strayed and you caught sight of the clock—it had been about half an hour since you’d parked in the garage and run into him. You’d been taking up his time and intruding in his space that long?! A light flush of embarrassment washed through you as you jerked away from the table, whipping back to face Seokjin with a sheepish laugh. Your heart skipped a beat as you found his gaze already centred on your form, and struggled to find your voice as a result for a moment.

“Shit,” the curse was the first thing to escape your mouth, and you smacked yourself mentally for it as Seokjin’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t realise the time! Sorry for intruding so long, Seokjin!”

The male’s lips tugged at the corners, an amused glaze catching in his eyes as he shrugged, unbothered. You were already on your way to the door though.

“I’ll let you do uh, whatever you need to do. I should go. I’ll show myself out,” you stumbled over your words, waving while you made a hasty retreat. “See you, Seokjin! Have a lovely night!”

And then you were dashing out of his apartment and straight next door to your own, eager to escape your own embarrassment and awkwardness. The rosy-haired male stared after you, blinking in surprise. If only you’d stayed a little longer, you would have seen the small profiterole he’d pull out of the package to give you as thanks.

x x x x x x x x x

It was a few nights later that you found yourself roused groggily from deep in the middle of REM sleep, the remnants of a dream about talking crabs and a crustacean-driven apocalypse flashing across your mind before they disappeared completely, discarded to the abyss and forgotten. You lay still for a moment, blinking eyes that were still heavy with sleep, and took the time to wonder exactly why you’d been pulled so abruptly from the tender embrace of sleep at—you checked your phone, wincing at the brightness of the screen as it assaulted your eyes—2:35AM.

You didn’t have to wait long before the answer to your question was caressing your ears, softer than a summer breeze but just as soothing. At once, you felt the tension in your body dissipate, eyes fluttering, the soft, pillowy comfort of your bed around you all the more apparent as you relaxed into it. Someone was singing, and it was such a soul-wrenching, beautiful sound when paired with the stillness of night, the cool glow the moon cast upon the inky depths of your room, that it almost brought tears to your eyes. Hearing the melodious ring of someone singing at such hours surprisingly wasn’t uncommon. You’d not heard it in a while, but it was several times a week that you were often lucky enough to catch it. It wasn’t in a language you understood, but in all honesty, for you, that only added to the charm, the allure. Your eyes glazed over, unfocused and directed up at the ceiling, not even registering its deep blue hue, as all of your attention and focus went to your hearing.

The voice, more masculine than feminine if you had to discern, dipped and flowed, each note hitting something in your chest that made your lungs constrict and heart tremble. There was something haunting about it, the loneliness of such a strong, beautiful voice without the company of instruments and backing, but you found that you liked it that way. It made it feel special, really, as though this song was just for you, the notes resonating so hypnotically through the wall and against your chest that you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat every so often. You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, slowly lulled back to sleep by the soft caress of the nameless voice against your ears. You were quick to re-enter the realm of dreams, but this time your mind flickered with images of plush lips and sweet smiles.

x x x x x x x x

When you’d become conscious enough to register the knocking on your door, early the next morning, you’d taken a few moments too many to get out of bed and had, subsequently, missed whoever it was bothering you at such an hour. By the time you’d wrapped yourself in your silk nightgown for decency’s sake (it had been a disgustingly humid the night previous and with your poor air conditioner at its limit you’d been forced to take drastic measures regarding attire) and made your way through your modest apartment to the front door, whoever had been knocking was long gone.

In their stead, you managed to notice just in time before shutting your door in dismissal, was a package left at your doorstep. Confusion filled you at the sight—you hadn’t ordered anything lately? It wasn’t all that big of a package, but it certainly wasn’t small; it can’t have been all that important either, as the deliveryman hadn’t even waited for a signature. Curious, you bent and retrieved it from the ground, twisting it in your hands in search of the label that would clear up all your questions.

“’Deliver to: Mr Kim Seokjin’,” you read aloud, letting out a surprised huff afterwards. It clearly had his apartment number printed on the label, how had they managed to mix it up with yours? Perhaps the deliveryman was in a rush, you mused, and didn’t have time to check. He hadn’t knocked for very long before dashing off, after all.

Well, it would be better to clear this up sooner rather than later. Completely forgetting about your current state of dress, you left your door open and padded down the hall to the one that belonged to your neighbour. A round of butterflies tickled your tummy at the notion of seeing him again, as it usually did. Curse these damn hormonal reactions. You shook your head to clear it of the ridiculous thoughts beginning to clutter it and raised your hand to knock.

It was frozen in its path, however, when the door creaked slightly open from the gust created by your abrupt movement. It was already open? Damn it, one of these days Seokjin was going to get mugged if he didn’t lock his damn door. Making a note to talk to him about it again, you went to knock on the doorframe instead when the sound of a voice from inside the apartment reached your ears.

“You’re being ridiculous,” it was decidedly masculine, and growing louder with each second that passed. You distantly registered the sound of two pairs of footsteps, but any alarm you might have felt was squashed when they stopped several feet from the door. You strained your ears to catch what was being said and discern who exactly was speaking—it surely couldn’t be Seokjin, could it?

“You’re really still on this?” the voice came again, youthful in its tenor and somewhat melodious despite the sharp edge of frustration riding in its tone. “You’re really still attempting to keep this act up?”

There was a pause, then shock had your heart skipping a beat as the voice continued, “Ridiculous. How long are you going to keep pretending you can’t talk?”

You felt your mouth drop open, your brows shooting up in absolute appal. But the voice was not done yet, despite the budding rage beginning to bloom in your chest.

“Your voice isn’t going to disappear just because you don’t use it, Seokjin. You can only escape what you are, who you are for so long. What’s so great about this place, this world, that you would refuse to come home, refuse to embrace your own gifts and blessings—”

Unable to take anymore, you smacked the door open and marched inside, catching sight of the two males barely a few feet from where the door smacked into the wall. Seokjin’s eyes were wide in shock, mouth parted slightly, as he registered it was you bursting into his apartment like that. It was such an open expression, so startling to you that a surprising shiver rolled down your spine to accompany the gasp that fell past his full lips. The male next to him seemed equal parts surprised and unimpressed at your abrupt entry, large brown eyes narrowed at you in an expression of his displeasure. You couldn’t help but notice that he had the same sort of air as Seokjin, the barest scent of brine brushing your nostrils, and was just as attractive if a little more youthful in his looks due to the roundness of his cheeks. You caught it as his strong jaw clenched and ticked, arms crossing over a firm chest. You didn’t let his appearance stop you from letting forth what was on your mind, though.

“Who the hell do you think you are, standing there and saying those things?!” you demanded, anger hot beneath your skin and no doubt flushing your cheeks. “How rude and insensitive do you have to be?”

The male seemed slightly taken aback by your outburst, apparently having not expected it, but was quick to recover. His eyes narrowed further from where they’d shot open in a doe-like look of shock.

“Jungkook,” he responded curtly, tone sharper than you’d heard it before but just as mellifluous. “And I’m Seokjin’s friend, practically his brother. Who are you?”

Despite your surprise at the information, it did nothing to quell the anger still bubbling in your veins. In fact, if anything, it only added to it. “I’m his neighbour,” you answered shortly, “And you’re ‘practically his brother’ yet you’re still standing there saying those things? What the hell is wrong with you?! What gives you the right to come in here and be a prick like that?!”

The male, Jungkook, went to open his mouth and retort when a sudden hint of realisation washed over him, his expression shifting and a sly curve tugging his lips. His dark eyes flicked from you, to Seokjin, and then back again—you missed the look of dread that passed over the rosy-haired male’s features from the side.

“You’re absolutely right,” he hummed, completely throwing you for a loop with his sudden change of tune. He even smiled at you, without a hint of malice, bunny teeth flashed your way. You refused to acknowledge the sheer amount of rage he quelled with just that single action. “It was very insensitive of me to say those things, especially considering… well. I should have known better.”

Something shifted in his eyes as his gaze turned to Seokjin, leaving you standing there in absolute shock as he seemed to convey something with his expression. His voice seemed to drop in his amusement, “I should get going. I am sorry, Seokjin. I’ll remember to be kinder in the future.”

He then took a step away, timberlands thudding loudly against the hardwood floor. His gaze swept back to you and you were rendered frozen to the spot for a moment in your dressing gown with the package under your arm. His eyes slipped over the length of your body before meeting your own. A sly smile tugged his lips, something akin to mischief glimmering in the dark chocolate of his iris. There was something particularly lilting and hypnotic about his voice as he spoke this time, “It was nice to meet you, y/n. Do me a favour and take care of Seokjin, give him a kiss on the cheek for me. Goodbye to both of you.”

And then he was turning on his heel and exiting through the open doorway, disappearing quickly down the hall. You stood a moment, basking in the bizarre turn the conversation had taken and the way your anger had all but completely fizzled out, before turning to face Seokjin. The moment your gaze connected with his form, it was as though something came over you and you were stepping forward and leaning up, pressing your lips to the soft cushion of his cheek. As soon as you performed the action, you seemed to snap out of it, and you lurched back with all the speed of someone who’d just been burnt.

You flushed and stuttered, eyes wide as you realised what you’d just done—why had you done that?! Why the hell did you just kiss Seokjin on his cheek?! God, your shoulders were pinching up from the sheer embarrassment flooding your form in such a debilitating manner. Seokjin was staring at you with wide eyes, lips parted slightly as you stuttered, his cheeks flushed a couple shades lighter than the colour no doubt staining your own.

“I—” you fumbled with the package and your words, knees shaking from your nerves. “I’m so sorry I don’t know what just came over me! I just came to give you th-this, since they delivered it to the wrong door! I’m so sorry! Have a nice day, Seokjin!”

With that you were thrusting the package in your arms towards him, barely making sure he’d grasped it before you were turning on your own heel and dashing away. You managed to close the door behind you just in time before absolutely legging it to your own and slamming that behind you as well. You let yourself drop back against the wood, sliding down the door with your heated face pressed into your hands.

That. Was so. Humiliating.

Over on the other side of the wall, Seokjin brought his hand to his cheek to chase the phantom feel of your lips against his skin, the smallest of smiles curving his lips.

x x x x x x x

Due to the intensity of the embarrassment you still felt about that little incident almost a week ago, you’d been doing your absolute best to avoid your attractive neighbour, if only for a little while. You weren’t doing too poorly, if you were being honest with yourself, you’d managed to avoid him thus far without problem, effectively preserving your dignity yet another day. You were embarrassed at the action, at the fact you’d up and kissed poor Seokjin on the cheek like that out of nowhere, but you were also confused as to why you’d done it. You weren’t someone to do things so impulsively and on a whim, and hadn’t had the thought or impulse to kiss him on the cheek in the first place. Despite this, the second you’d laid eyes on him, you’d acted without hesitation or room for thought—the helplessness of it, the lack of control, was what frazzled you so. Therefore, until you could sort out that particular cocktail of emotion, you were going to avoid him.

As was the case with most things though, this avoidance couldn’t last forever and was soon to come to an end.

The end in question came one Friday evening when you rushed up the concrete stairs into the apartment lobby, making a mad dash for the packed elevator before it closed and left you to wait for fifteen minutes. Usually there wasn’t much traffic through the elevators, but it was around the time that each working man and woman came home, and so the small compartment was crammed full of people in suits and dress clothes.

“Hold the door please!” you called across the space, hoping you didn’t sound as desperate as you really were, while you scuttled over. You didn’t get to see who you were squishing against as you effectively threw yourself inside, hands holding your bag close to you in a poor attempt to make yourself as compact as possible and reduce how much space you were taking up. There was an annoyed groan from someone in the corner as the doors shut behind you and you leaned around the person in front of you to shoot a bright smile in that direction, ignoring how their attitude annoyed you. “Thank you so much for waiting!”

With that you leaned back, taking an involuntary sniff through your nose as you did. To your surprise, instead of the usual musty aroma of dust, body odour and fresh sweat that was so familiar to the elevator, it was the soft tinge of brine and something floral that brushed your nostrils. You blinked, turning to face the person in front of you, who you were essentially pressed chest-to-chest with. All at once the blood drained from your face then flushed back in to colour your cheeks what was no doubt an alarming shade of embarrassment exclusive only to you.

Seokjin’s lips were tugged into an amused smile, eyes creasing at the ends in his mirth, and you very much wished for the floor of the elevator to open up so you could drop down the shaft and escape this humiliation.

“Oh, hello Seokjin,” your voice was small and you could hear the fluster riddling your tone. “I didn’t see you there. I hope your day has gone well?”

The male managed to nod down at you before the elevator jostled slightly, jerking a little as it came to a stop. There was shuffling from the back as the doors opened and you realised with dread what was about to happen.

“Hi, sorry, excuse me—” it was a woman in her mid-forties that squeezed in behind you, disregarding the fact that there was absolutely no room for her. You squeaked as her entry meant you were now properly pushed up against Seokjin’s front, your bag clamped to your side. You felt the movement of his chest against your own as he inhaled sharply, a shuddering breath, and you were sure your face couldn’t get any more flushed as the elevator jostled into movement once more and had you rubbing against him. This was it, this was how you were going to die—of embarrassment, like you always thought.

There was a plastic-like rustling and crinkling by your shoulder and you turned your head slightly to see plastic and cellophane, wrapped neatly around a large bouquet of spring blooms, the bundle assortment of colours that found their home in the sky at sunset. You were sure more than one of the flowers in there could match the colour currently staining your cheeks.

“Flowers?” the word slipped from your mouth before you could think to stop it, gaze flicking back up to Seokjin whose dark eyes were lidded slightly as he gazed down at you. Your breath caught in your throat slightly as you were suddenly made hyperaware of him— the scent of him mixed with the summery allure of the flowers, sweet and cloying as it brushed your nostrils; the golden tone of his skin as it contrasted and complimented the magnetic warmth and darkness of his eyes and brows and the dusty pink of his hair. His plush lips were parted just slightly but pressed together after you finished speaking, one side tugging up.

He lifted his hand, apparently not accounting for the cramped space. It brushed your hip and the side of your breast as it rose to the air, making you jerk slightly in surprise—lord, now you were even more aware of how your front was pressed so much against his, the heat of his form through your clothing almost overwhelming. A brief look of mortification flickered across his features at the accident but he managed to hide it just as quickly as it arose, the only remaining tell-tale sign of his embarrassment being his pink cheeks. You were torn between fluster and endearment.

He brought his hand so that you could see it clearly and posed it like he was holding a pen, or similar instrument, before moving it through the air a little. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ in realisation.

“Oh, for reference?” you guessed, warmth bubbling in your chest when he nodded with a bright grin, teeth flashing. You didn’t notice how he was angling his lower body away from yours slightly, as much as he inconspicuously could manage in the tight space.

The elevator halted, and you glanced up in time to see that it was your floor—you’d never been so thankful that you didn’t live closer to the top. As soon as the doors creaked open you sprung forth from the tight space, ignoring the huffs of relief from the residents behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know that Seokjin had followed you out, but you still paused and waited for him to catch up anyway. When he stepped beside you, a smile on his face and the bouquet of flowers held lax in his hands in front of him. You resumed your pace and he was quick to join you, the two of you walking in ambient if somewhat awkward silence. You had pretty much all but forgotten about what had happened last time, too busy getting over the embarrassment this encounter had caused.

The male seemed like he wanted to express something to you, but remained focused on where he placed his feet with each step, right up until you reached his door. You offered him a smile in farewell, preparing to turn and continue to your own door, but he halted you in your steps as his hand shot to wrap around your wrist. Your skin buzzed where it came into contact with his, the surprising cool of his palm very welcome against your heated flesh, and you turned to him expectantly, eyes wide.

He dropped your wrist as soon as he had your attention, and you found yourself missing the contact the second it disappeared. He was barely over a foot away, close enough that you could reach to touch him yourself—you just barely managed to hold yourself back, cheeks warmed by your loud thoughts. He held up a finger, something you took to mean ‘wait a moment, please’, and so you did, with as much patience as you could muster. Seokjin shifted in his stance, resting his weight on the opposite leg and bringing the bouquet up closer to his face as he used his hand to carefully pluck a flower from the bunch.

It was a pretty strawberry-coloured bloom, with petals that were stained a deeper, darker colour in the centre, which was decorated with a light lemon sphere of pollen. You blinked in confusion as he separated it from the rest, holding it before him to inspect for a moment. It seemed to pass whatever criterion he was holding it to, as in the next moment he was holding it out to you. Bewildered, you took it, and he flashed you a grin. The only explanation he offered in answer to the confusion splayed across your features was a finger pointing to the petals, and then to his cheek—your cheek.

You flushed further, wanting to run now that you knew for sure your face was completely taken in the throes of your embarrassed blushing.

“Th-thanks,” you managed to stutter out, already edging closer to your door. The male, whose own cheeks still had yet to recover from the incident in the elevator, shot you a bright grin. He lifted a hand and slipped the flower from your grasp, slotting it in and tucking it firmly behind your ear. Your cheeks could have cooked something they were so absolutely scorching with how utterly flustered and embarrassed you were.

Luckily for you, Seokjin was the first one to step away. He turned to his door, bouquet in his grasp, and fished his keys out of his pocket before giving you an enthused wave. And just like that, you were free from whatever spell had kept you standing there as long as you had been— you took a step back of your own and returned the wave.

“Thanks, Seokjin,” you barely managed to articulate without another sudden bout of stuttering, “See you around!”

He nodded, already slotting his key into the door and letting himself into his apartment. When he disappeared inside with a final wave, door thudding shut behind him and the lock clicking (for once), you hurried to do the same and let yourself into your own apartment.

With your heart racing, butterflies rampant in your abdomen, you shut the door behind you, and couldn’t help but think that one of these days, Seokjin was going to be the end of you.

x x x x x x x x x

In the short amount of time after that most recent incident with the elevator and the flower, you ceased your active attempts to avoid Seokjin, but didn’t end up seeing much of him anyway; the two of you led very much separate and individual lives and that meant that a lot of the time your personal schedules didn’t always align. So while you weren’t consciously trying to miss him this time, you ended up only glimpsing him once or twice over the week or so since the last incident—once as he was climbing into his car in the basement, and another time as you walked through the lobby and caught sight of him entering the gym on the bottom floor. The second time had you scuttling away as fast as possible, admittedly, because he’d slipped into a singlet that exposed a lot of golden skin and toned back and arms and you really weren’t out looking to suffer. You didn’t have an explanation for the way your body behaved and reacted at just the mere sight of him, but it was damn dangerous. You were going to have to find an outlet for all of this pent up energy sometime soon because if you didn’t you had no doubt you were going to be even more of a mess than usual around him and you simply couldn’t take that amount of embarrassment because clearly, as witnessed already, you weren’t that great at handling it.

Tossing the little square of chocolate into the air and thankfully caching it with your mouth, you allowed the sweet treat to melt on your tongue as you returned your gaze to the television. It was some drama that you’d put on initially as background noise, but had unwittingly gotten a little invested in. The characters were quirky and funny and you found yourself developing a bit of a soft spot for the most extravagant and boisterous one. You refused to analyse why exactly that was. The current conflict in the series was more of the emotional type than traditional outside forces—it was riveting.

You’d been watching this, binging it all day. You didn’t have work on the weekends, thankfully, and you’d had the thought to do something productive with the time you now had but ended up relaxing and moulding yourself into the couch instead. Sometimes you were a little too self=indulgent, but you didn’t mind it all that much when you could afford it on days like today.

It was early evening, and you would think that with such a show-stopping distraction in front of you, you’d be able to avoid thoughts of a certain someone—but alas, that was not the case, and yet again you found yourself thinking about your neighbour and, oddly, the singing you’d begun to hear almost every night the past week or so. You wondered how he was, whether he was woken by it and heard it too—the rare few times you’d glimpsed his face, he’d seemed somewhat deep in thought, distracted, and you hoped he was able to hear that lovely voice that sang at night because then he’d be able to relax as he listened to it, much like you did. The tune of the song had changed lately, it sounded different but was just a haunting, just as mesmerising. You still couldn’t understand the words sewn so wonderfully into the air, but felt in your gut that the mood of these melodies had shifted. You were relaxed upon hearing them, as expected, but also filled with a tug, a pull and a longing, nestled in your chest and wrapped around your heart and lungs. You didn’t know what, but you wanted to do something, to go somewhere. It was a little odd that you got such urges at midnight and the early hours of the morning, but you were able to ignore them for the most part.

You let out a loud gasp, unchecked in the midst of your solitude, as the two characters on screen, enemies at the current time, kissed. You straightened so abruptly in your seat, eyes wide, that you nearly knocked the block of chocolate you’d been nibbling from off the armrest. A precarious position, you knew, but you didn’t want to put it on the cushion and risk squishing it with your ass or something. You were wearing your lazy outfit, which consisted of black tights and an oversized sweater that hid the cute lingerie you had beneath—the baby pink set with silk and lace weren’t your first pick for a lazy day, but you’d gotten behind on your washing and they were all that was left. Thankfully, they were comfortable, so you didn’t have that many complaints.

As the shock began to wear off at what you were seeing, your form began to relax back into the couch—that is, before a god-awful, ear-splitting, absolutely blaring noise, only barely muffled by plaster, assaulted your eardrums and you jumped so hard you nearly fell off the cushion. It took you a few moments to realise what it was, and then a few moments more before you realised exactly where it was coming from.

It was a fire alarm, sounding from the apartment right next to yours—Seokjin’s apartment.

You were a little worried, but figured he probably just put his toast in for too long or something—these alarms were really sensitive, you didn’t have enough fingers to count all the times your own had gone off on you suddenly for cooking an egg or bacon or similar consumable product.

So you waited a few moments, thinking it would turn off as the male no doubt hurried to fix the culinary happening that had led to this situation—but you waited, and waited, and the alarm continued to blare on, and on, and on. More than a little worried, considering the male should have been able to get it off by now even if he had to take the batteries out as a last resort, you rose from the couch and quickly dashed down the hall to your front door.

The sound was a little more muffled in the hallway of the complex, but you could still hear it well enough—you quickly made a beeline to Seokjin’s door, raising your hand to knock and accidentally pushing the door in from the gust of air that resulted from the movement as it was, once again, left unlocked. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes; it was like the male was just asking to be robbed or something. You really had to remind him to lock his own door, huh.

At the persistent ringing in your ears from the fire alarm as the sound slipped through the crack in the doorway, you weighed your options for a brief moment. To enter, or not to enter. You had a brief image of poor Seokjin knocked out, or something equally dramatic, and immediately came to a decision. Your palm pressed to the cool wood of the door, pushing it open, and you quickly dashed inside. Immediately, you were greeted by the sight and acrid smell of smoke—so something was burning.

His apartment was in pretty much the same state as it had been last time you’d been privy to its contents, except the artwork you’d seen had all been switched out again. Actually, you amended that observation as you entered the kitchen, passing the dining table on the way and catching sight of a familiar painting on the wall. Something flickered in your chest briefly; Seokjin had hung up the painting you’d complimented last time, ‘lullaby’ if you were recalling correctly. The knowledge brought a smile to your face before another large waft of smoke assaulted your nostrils and you were reminded of the current situation at hand.

As soon as you stepped foot in the kitchen, you were able to pinpoint the source of the smoke—and what it had originally been, if the barest scent of fish was anything to go by. You were quick to take the frying pan off the stove, the charred remains of what you presumed had been seafood more like ash at this point than anything edible. Just how long had it been sitting there on the glass-top stove, burning away?

Dumping the pan in the sink and blasting it with water from the tap, you left it running while you rushed to open the windows along the bench—at the scent of fresh air and the cool breeze on your face, you let out a pleased sigh. Grabbing the first tea towel in sight, you started to fan the smoke out, wrinkling your nose at the smell as the heat was doused in the stream from the tap.

It took only a short while to silence the fire alarm, your ears singing praise the second it cut off. You’d managed to fan most of the smoke out of the room, although the smell was lingering a fair bit. You turned the tap off, leaving some water in the pan for good measure, and took a step back.

This whole time, you still hadn’t seen hide no hair of Seokjin.

Worry curled in your abdomen, wringing your stomach, and you hesitated for a moment. You felt a bit uncomfortable barging through his apartment like this, but you also wanted to be sure he was okay. Ultimately, it was a worse ending if you didn’t go looking for him and something actually turned out to be wrong. Biting your lip, you steeled your will and left the kitchen, double-checking the stove was off as you went. The heat coming off of it was almost unbearable at this point, and you were glad you’d thought to come in and check on things.

Seokijn’s apartment was very similar to yours in layout, the main difference being the fact that it was flipped and, obviously, the different furniture and décor. You were prepared to go searching through every room for him, but with the alarm no longer blaring obnoxiously in your ears, you quickly caught the sound of running water as it brushed your ears, somewhat muffled. The bathroom…?

Quick to act, you started in the direction the noise was coming from, finding the door to the room ajar by barely an inch and the sound of running water most definitely coming from inside. Was this something else he had left on? Lord he was going to be in so much trouble with your landlord—

Pushing the door open and stepping inside, your feet slapped against the thin layer of water pooling across the floor, cold where it hit your skin, and you didn’t even get to scan the whole room before you caught sight of an image that answered a lot of the questions you had bouncing in your head, yet also thrust you into such a state of shock you nearly slipped right over there in the doorway.

Seokjin was in the bathtub, head and upper body completely submerged as water continued to flow unchecked from the tap, rippling and splashing across the surface that lapped and spilt over the edge. The way it flowed over the side of the tub reminded you of a water feature as it spilt down to the floor, pooling across the tiles and trickling slowly down the small drain situated in the middle of the room. You might have been alarmed that Seokjin was completely underwater were it not for the other part of the scene that had your breath catching in your lungs and shock rooting you in place.

Seokjin’s upper body was beneath the water, in the depths of the tub, but it was not his legs that hung over the side—no, it was a large tail almost twice the length of his upper body, and it was rich, glimmering turquoise that bled to black at the end, scales iridescent and gleaming soft pinks, purples and summer blues as it flicked and dragged across the floor. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, the way droplets of water caught the light on the surface, the way it shifted and the thin, wispy, shimmering fins that decorated the sides and trailed to the end would follow the motion. A tail… Seokjin was…

You barely had time to conceive let alone process the thought before the water shifted and rippled, Seokjin’s body moving as he sat up and broke the surface, the contents of the tub sloshing over the sides to slap and splatter against the tile. His eyes remained closed as water cascaded down his face, streaming over his fine features and plastering his rosy hair down before he brought a dripping hand up to brush it up and away from his eyes. A flush of heat washed over you at the sight of him now, droplets slipping over the smooth planes of his chest and shoulders, lashes wet against his cheeks—he was so beautiful, so incredibly stunning in this moment that it made your chest ache inexplicably.

Then his eyes opened and swept to meet yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the look held in their depths, the heat that you could feel seeping into your skin, that was currently making your knees weak and core throb. You didn’t even notice the gasp that escaped your lips, too bewildered and shocked at the turn this day had taken. Seokjin’s stare was unwavering as he held your gaze, and the longer you remained trapped in it the more heat you felt flush over your body. It was only when his lips parted and his tongue darted out to wet them that you snapped out of it, immediately a discomforting combination of mortified and strangely aroused.

You stumbled back, very nearly slipping in the water still overflowing from the tap and pooling on the floor. Your voice caught in your throat and almost broke as you blurted out apologies, “Shit, I-I’m so sorry, Seokjin! Fuck, I—I’m—”

Floundering for words, you just gave up and succumbed to your desire to flee, turning tail and dashing out of the room. You needed more than a moment to process this whole debacle.

Distantly, you registered the sound of a tap twisting and shutting off, and then the sound of water splashing and sloshing. In your panic and embarrassment, you ended up going the wrong way and scrambled further into the house rather than back out to the kitchen as you’d intended. You were just about to spin on your heel when there were footsteps behind you and a large, wet hand grasped your wrist to keep you from moving. You had a moment to adjust to the scorching heat, the searing of his palm against your skin, before you arm was firmly but gently tugged and you were spun around in place.

“y/n, y/n, y/n…” the voice that graced your ears was a low, dulcet purr, velvet against your eardrums. It took a moment as your gaze flew to Seokjin’s face, hair still damp over his forehead and the odd droplet of water still decorating his skin, for you to realise the voice was coming from him, that it was his plush lips shaping your name in such a sultry way. Another wash of heat fell over you, your gut dropping and knees trembling; somehow he’d managed to throw a towel haphazardly around his waist, the material slipping low on his hips, and the rest of his body was still damp from his recent dip. Something began to smoulder in your abdomen as Seokjin’s eyes caught yours. Your mouth dropped open with the urge to speak but no words escaped.

His lips curled at your speechless state, fingers drumming softly against the skin of your wrist as he pulled you closer before beginning to urge you backwards. It was only now that your own voice returned to you, legs wobbling as you stumbled backwards, the doorway to a room you didn’t know passing over you, “Seokjin, y-you—”

“I’m not mute, no,” his voice was melodic and clear, a daze of sorts washing over you and arousal beginning to swim along your veins at the sound of it. The back of your legs brushed something soft and he ceased in his gentle urging. “But I have to admit, seeing you defend me so heatedly, so passionately… If I hadn’t already been wanting you since the very first day I saw you, I might have fallen then and there.”

His words had your heart skipping a beat, his free hand coming to grasp your other wrist and a pleasant heat searing where his skin met yours. You were quivering, not in fear but in need, a kind so deep and primal it felt like your insides were ablaze. What was he, that at just the sound of his voice your body was reacting so strongly, like it never had before?

You wanted to talk, to speak, but couldn’t find your tongue let alone the words to grace it, mind running too fast to keep up with even with the haze beginning to cloud your mind; he seemed to understand. His hands trailed along your arms, eliciting a deep shiver along the length of your spine, and then came to brush down your sides until finally resting upon your hips. His grip tightened momentarily before he pushed once, sending you backwards. Your form met the bed softer than anticipated, elbows sinking into the mattress to prop yourself up slightly. Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed up at him, mesmerised.

“Do you know what I am?” he asked, breathless, as he advanced and slid his knee onto the bed between your thighs. Your core throbbed wantonly as he climbed over you, gaze never once breaking its hold on you.

“Siren,” you breathed in answer, stomach fluttering at the way his gaze lit up and his lips twitched. “I knew you were too attractive to be human.”

He let out a laugh, and if it wasn’t the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard then you didn’t know what would be.

“You’ve always been perceptive, sweet flower,” he cooed, the depth of his voice as it caressed some of the words and the pet name making your stomach dip. “Yet you’ve never quite caught on, have you?”

“To what?” the question almost caught in your throat as he hummed softly, gaze slipping down your neck to caress your form.

The smile that curved his full lips was indulgent, enamoured. “I want you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, butterflies rampant in your abdomen and your heart racing in your chest as he continued, “I’ve wanted you, resisted you, for so long; the draw of your energy, your soul… But I cannot resist it— resist you— any longer. You’ve seen me.”

He was breathless now, an undercurrent of excitement threading through the mellifluous timbre of his voice. He lowered slightly, breath brushing your ear and the sensitive skin of your neck as he spoke, “You’ve seen my truest form, and now you lay beneath me smelling so sweet with arousal, your body singing my song. I can hardly resist,” he let out a soft chuckle as he lowered his head further, lips brushing your throat—your heart was racing so fast it was like a hummingbird fluttering against the confines of your chest. “Fancy this, a siren caught and ensnared in your mortal wiles.”

He pressed a kiss to your throat and you shivered, hands coming up to grasp the smooth, heated skin of his biceps. Pleasure, light and airy, tingled along your limbs with each soft brush of his lips to your neck. Your voice trembled as you asked, “Why did you never speak?”

You saw his shoulders shrug, a soft hum vibrating against your skin.

“It’s always been much easier to show,” he murmured, avoiding the question and what you’d intended to ask. He distracted you with a firm kiss to your neck, tongue darting out to lave over the skin and tearing a sharp gasp from your throat. He began to decorate your neck with his lips, hot open-mouthed kisses making your knees weak and your core throb.

“Are you going to show me?” you could hardly keep your voice level, a tremble of nerves and excitement still present in the undertones. He shifted in his position, resting on his elbows and allowing his hips to lower between your thighs. At the sudden pressure, the roll of his hips against your throbbing core, you let out a soft whine of need; even through the thick material of the towel you could feel the heat, the hardness beneath, and the observation had your head swimming in the throes of your arousal. You’d never felt such all-consuming desire for someone.

“Tell me, y/n,” he paused to suckle underneath your jaw, the sensation eliciting another sharp noise from your throat—he seemed to bask in it. “Do you want me?”

You were lucid enough that you still felt the embarrassment such a question caused, but taken enough by your desire for him that you were able to answer him nonetheless. Your response escaped your lips on your next breath, “Yes. I-I do.”

The siren hummed his pleasure against your neck, rewarding you with a tender scrape of his teeth against your throat and a roll of his hips into yours. His voice ran like velvet over your ears, “Then I will show you.”

With that his lips were on you with renewed fervour, kissing and suckling tender bruises across the expanse of your throat; soft, gasping moans tumbled from your lips and you tilted your head back so he had more access, fingers gripping him hard. With each noise you made, he seemed to grow more and more excited—and with how skilled he was with his mouth, you were making a lot of them. He decorated all the flesh he could reach in tender marks that bloomed the colours of twilight, the occasional drop of water hitting your skin from his still damp hair as it tickled you wherever he went.

Soon enough, he met the barrier that your sweater presented, and was quick to sit up, gaze taking you in for a moment—your flushed cheeks and lidded eyes, the hickeys he’d just dressed your neck up with, the way your thighs trembled with the urge to close and rub. He let out a low, throaty groan that had your stomach flipping and was quick to grip the bottom of your sweater and rid you of it. Your pants went next and when he was faced with the sight of you in nothing but the lingerie you’d donned this morning as a last resort, he froze.

“Fuck,” his voice was thick and caught in his throat, but even then it retained its silky, mellifluous quality. Soft pink locks, still damp, fell across his forehead as he let out a shuddering breath. His large hands came to hover over your form, fingers tracing your shape and trailing over the soft skin of your sides—your cheeks were so scorching you were almost worried, and at the heated look in his eyes elicited by the sight of your body almost bare before him, you felt you might explode. “So pretty and perfect for me, kitten.”

You shivered at the change in pet name, this one infinitely more out there and potent than the last, but you didn’t find yourself minding one bit. He lowered himself down once more, but not before his gaze fell upon what was no doubt the wet patch your arousal had soaked in your underwear. He let out another groan, a delicious rumble that started in his chest, and then his head was dipping down and his mouth was on you once more. One of his hands found your own and threaded your fingers together, making your heart skip a beat, and the other cupped your breast before dragging down your side and over the soft swell of your tummy.

The siren returned to sucking marks across your flesh, your body serving as his personal canvas as he decorated you in a mixture of rosy pinks, reds and purples. The attention he paid to your neck and throat had you whining loudly, hips rolling up to grind against his own and fingers gripping his hand harder. He relished in each noise he managed to elicit, fascinated with the sound of your needy whines and moans—as a creature whose gift and power lay in voice, the tantalising timbre of yours as it brushed his ears only served to make him all the more enthralled.

The free hand that had been exploring your every dip and curve began to skirt the waistband of your panties, and it wasn’t long before his fingers dipped lower to drag over your clothed core. You jolted at the sensation against your clit as he rubbed it, teasing; you were almost hypersensitive at this point, so fraught with need as you were. Your core ached for something inside of it, clenching around nothing. He drank each of your moans in as he suckled the flesh of your breast that wasn’t obscured by the soft pink bra into his mouth, teeth scraping the skin and eliciting a delicious ache.

Eventually he grew tired of the remaining barriers hiding you from him, and tugged the straps off your shoulders and the cups down beneath your breasts—your nipples were already peaking under his rapt attention and the cool air. He took a moment to survey the mess he’d made you into already before returning his attention to your skin, kissing along the swell of your breast and allowing his tongue to roll your nipple before taking it into his mouth and suckling. You let out a loud cry at that, more sensitive than you’d expected, your back arching into his ministrations slightly. The hand that had been dancing around your core slipped beneath the waistband and his fingers were soon dragging along your folds, gathering the slick nectar pooled there and using it as he rolled your clit, rubbing it in figure eights.

You moaned sharply at that, Seokjin moving across your chest with his mouth and ensuring almost every inch of you was covered. His fingers didn’t tease you for long, dipping back down to part your folds, two digits pressed at your entrance. He brought his head up to meet your gaze for a moment and at the almost indiscernible nod you were able to offer in your haze, his head dipped back down and his fingers slipped into you.

“Fuck,” he swore, muscles in his back trembling slightly. “You’re so wet.”

With how aroused you were, they slipped in easily, a long, drawn moan tearing from your throat at the stretch and ending in a gasp as the rosy-haired siren took your nipple between his teeth, the slight pinch sending little shocks of pleasure straight to your core. Your walls clenched around the intrusion involuntarily, Seokjin letting out a sharp gasping groan at the sensation. He quickly sank the digits the rest of the way in until they were knuckle deep, his thumb teasing your clit. He allowed you a moment to adjust before he was shifting his hand, rolling his wrist and beginning to fuck into you with his fingers. Your thighs trembled, fingers gripping his other hand hard as you whined and moaned.

“Seokjin,” you gasped, eyelids fluttering as pleasure began to throb throughout your body in a heady ache. “Seokjin, can I kiss you?”

The male lifted his head enough to send you an apologetic look, before he dove down to press a kiss to your cheek. “It’s not wise, flower,” he murmured against your skin, brushing his nose against yours before turning to press kisses along your jaw. “I think you know what a kiss from a siren does, sweetheart.”

You let out a sound torn between a moan and a whine, the male having curled his fingers inside you, the pads of his fingertips brushing against your g-spot. He was right, you knew what a siren’s kiss entailed, but in your lust-induced haze you could hardly find enough fault with it to dismiss it entirely from your mind. Intent on giving back even a little of the attention he was giving you, you brought your free hand to cup his face, along the sharp curve of his jaw, and as he looked up you guided his face closer to your own.

Heeding what he said for now, you pressed your lips to his cheek by his lips, the curve of his cheekbone, the tip of his nose—you got most of the way over his face before he was pulling back with pink cheeks and an endeared smile.

“Cute,” he noted, tone dipping melodiously, making your own cheeks flush with heat and causing your hand to leave his face as it came to cover your own in embarrassment. He let out a chuckle, peppering soft kisses across your collarbones and humming at the shiver it elicited.

It wasn’t long before Seokjin deemed you ready enough to add another finger, slipping it in with the other two—you gasped, mewling at the stretch, and you felt his lips twitch against you.

“You sound so sweet, kitten,” the siren purred, dulcet tone deep and low as it brushed your ears. He began fucking into you harder with his fingers, curling them each time they breached your walls. You were a gasping mess, your body writhing from the pleasure that resulted from his actions. Rapidly, you were approaching your peak, and you could hardly catch your breath from the suddenness, the intensity of it all. Seokjin’s next words only pushed you closer, heart fluttering in your chest, “I’ve dreamt so long of having you mewling beneath me like this—you sound just as I imagined and better.”

You were too taken by the pleasure to respond, arching into Seokjin’s ministrations wantonly. “F-fuck, Seokjin! I’m—”

“You’re close?” he guessed, voice like velvet against your ears. Something different shifted into his tone, intertwining with his words, “Come now, kitten, cum for me.”

You weren’t sure what, but something in your snapped at his words—at his command. You recognised distantly it was a gift often belonging to sirens, but could hardly focus on the thought when the sound of his voice as he directed you sent you forcibly off the precipice of your release and spiralling into an orgasm that had you crying out, keening loudly, as pleasure flooded your form and set your nerves alight. You clenched around him as he continued fucking his fingers into you to ride you through your high, hips bucking up and thighs shaking.

“Good girl,” When you returned to the present moment and the pleasure faded to a pleasant buzz beneath your skin, you found Seokjin cooing at you, thumb brushing over your hand soothingly. When he noticed you were looking at him once more, chest still heaving as you attempted to regain your breath, he continued, “You sound so pretty when you cum for me, flower.”

He peppered fond kisses across your chest, a soft laugh escaping him when he pressed them to your breasts and their pebbled peaks and you jerked, somewhat ticklish to the action. It was as though he was especially attuned to your body, as the second any remaining oversensitivity ceased he was slipping his soaked fingers from your core and moving his kisses southward. You moved to fight him on it, wanting to give some back, but he simply pressed you back to the mattress and sent you’re a firm look. One by one he slipped his fingers into his mouth, deft tongue ensuring none of your essence escaped on his watch—the sight had your breath catching in your chest.

“I’ve waited so long for this, kitten,” his lips tugged into a salacious smile. “Won’t you let me make you feel good? Won’t you give me some more of those pretty sounds, pretty girl?”

Your cheeks were instantly set ablaze, yet the undeniable ache of arousal began to settle in your abdomen nonetheless. He pressed one final kiss below your navel and then was quick to ensure you were bare before him, slipping your remaining garment completely from your form and grasping your thighs to part them. You heard his sharp intake of breath at the sight and scent of you and had to fight the urge to close your legs in embarrassment.

You had barely any warning before Seokjin was dipping his head between your thighs and delivering a long, deft lick along your folds, your ears burning at the slick noise that resulted along with the sharp, abrupt moan that escaped you. He hummed against you, pleased with your reaction, and began cleaning your folds with broad , firm licks of his tongue. With each swipe it flicked and brushed your clit, and your hips rolled slightly, unable to help it as the fire of desire was rekindled so easily in your abdomen.

It took him a shamefully shorter time to begin working you up again, tongue quickly changing directive and rolling your clit instead. You cried out at this, hips twitching up into the ministration on instinct as pleasure shot through you once more, core throbbing with the same ache you’d been stuck with in the first place. You rose back up to the peak at a steady pace, soft moans and Seokjin’s name tumbling from your lips as you grew closer and closer to your second release—that steady climb was shot to hell as Seokjin grasped your thighs and began to wrap his plush lips around your clit, continuing to flick and roll it with his tongue as he sucked it into his mouth, against his teeth.

The hand he wasn’t using to hold your thighs apart brushed back up your body, cupping your cheek a moment before trailing down to wrap loosely around your throat, thumb and finger brushing the tender, marked flesh before settling over your pulse points. The male’s dark eyes swept up to catch sight of your expression as he began to apply a little pressure, monitoring your features for any sign of displeasure or discomfort as he continued to stimulate you with his tongue. This wasn’t territory you were all that familiar with, but you were familiar enough with it and Seokjin’s nature to trust him, and when he increased the pressure a little more and your head began to fuzz just slightly, you couldn’t help but let out a choked moan.

“F-fuck!” your voice wavered and trembled, more than enough to tell the pink-haired male that you were close once more with this new sensation adding to the pleasure. He hummed, continuing to work you up, and you were drowning in the pleasure—right up until you were on the precipice once more and he abruptly slipped his mouth from your core. His voice was firm and laced with the familiar note the command from last time had carried.

“Don’t cum until I tell you to,” he instructed, and the softness of his voice and features contrasted sharply with the firmness of his tone—all of which had your heart stuttering in your heaving chest and your stomach flipping giddily. With that he allowed a slight smile to cross his lips and he was ducking down to return them to where you ached for them to be most.

You might have paid his words no heed, except that from the second he uttered them it was as though you were stuck on the precipice, a tantalising millimetre from your next release and unable to cross it. Seokjin’s fingers and thumb teased your circulation, your head filled with a pleasant buzz that exacerbated your pleasure but was never enough to push you over.

One of your hands slipped down to wind into the siren’s damp pink locks, the other gripping his bicep for something to anchor you. He continued lapping at your folds, rolling your pearl with his tongue and even grazing it ever so carefully with his teeth—you were constantly stimulated, held on the edge for much, much longer than you were used to. You began to grow even more sensitive, so sensitive, and the pleasure was so hot and all-consuming you were easily going to lose yourself in it and go mad, if only you could hit your release.

“F-fuck!” you ended up letting out a sobbing moan, body arching and chest heaving as you gasped for breath when Seokjin let his grip on your throat relax for a moment before resuming. You were feeling so much all at once, too much, yet none of it was enough to push you off the edge—it was torture of the most exquisite kind. “F-fuck, please—“

You were so wet that when Seokjin returned a finger to tease at your entrance, all that resulted was lewd noises and wet squelching. You were absolutely soaked, your body continuing to gush in its prolonged, heightened state of arousal. Your senses were quickly beginning to overload, filter disengaging as tears began to bud in your eyes and pleas tumbled from your lips.

“P-please can I c-cum—” you gasped, hips twitching as he suckled your clit once more and another sobbing moan tore from your throat. “Gah, f-fuck Seokjin, I can’t take much more p-please let me c-cum—”

He hummed against you, drinking in your sinful sounds as he leisurely lapped up your essence, pussy constantly gushing with more of the sweetness thanks to the prolonged arousal he’d brought upon you. A part of him wished to hear more of your begging, your pleas and whines as your body strained to come undone, but his heart throbbed in his chest and he found himself wanting to indulge you more.

“I want to hear more of you, but you’re begging so nicely, being such a good girl for me,” the siren hummed, delivering a rewarding lick to your core between words. He lifted his hand from your throat, fingers ever so gentle and tender as they brushed away a tear of frustration you hadn’t even realised had fallen. “Tell me kitten, who is it that’s making you feel this way?”

You nearly sobbed your response, limbs trembling and nerves alight from the prolonged pleasure, “Y-you are! You are.”

He purred, pleased with your obedience and compliance. He had one last request for you. “Say my name, kitten.”

“K-Kim Seokjin!” you burst hips straining to roll away as the male in question brought his thumb to your clit.

The siren smiled, pressing a tender kiss to the soft flesh of your inner thigh before humming, “Good girl. Now—cum.”

Almost instantly, at his words, you’re finally thrown off the edge and headfirst into your long-awaited orgasm, and it was blinding, almost debilitating in the force with which it ravaged your senses. Pleasure ricocheted along your limbs, your eyes clenching shut as you let out a loud, keening cry, more tears squeezing from your eyes, in relief this time.

It took you more than a few moments to come down from this high, which thankfully Seokjin hadn’t ridden you through—you were currently too sensitive, and if he’d done anything more than catch your release on his tongue you didn’t know how your fried nerves would have handled it.

Your breathing was ragged, chest heaving as you came down from the peak of your pleasure and euphoria. It was as though your senses had been muted briefly, and they came back to you now—it took you only a moment longer to realise that Seokjin was hovering above you, arms either side of your head and shoulders as he cupped your face, thumbs brushing gently over the skin of your cheeks. The action had your heart fluttering and you attempted to offer him a smile, even if it came out more fucked-out than intended.

Seokjin’s voice was a gentle, lilting coo as he continued caressing your face with more softness than you ever thought someone capable of, “Are you alright? Can you take some more? Use your words for me, flower.”

You couldn’t help the giddy giggle that escaped you, your hands coming to cover your face in embarrassment. Although the male wasn’t moving against you directly, his hips were still pressed to your core and you could feel the throbbing heat of his member through the towel. Shamefully, you were already beginning to get a little aroused again—just what had come over you today?!

“I’m fine,” you managed to breathe, allowing Seokjin to remove your hands from your face so he could meet your gaze. “I just—just need a minute, because that… whew.”

The male’s face broke into a stunning smile, dark warmth in his eyes gleaming as he chuckled. In an odd turn of events, he dropped his head to hide his face in your neck bashfully, nuzzling the tender, bruised skin affectionately. It was such a sweet, unexpected action you felt your stomach fluttering and flipping in response.

Seokjin pulled back for a moment, and you might have wondered what he was doing if he didn’t immediately follow through—he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you with him as he rolled onto his back. You let out a squeak as you were suddenly brought on top of him with your thighs either side of his hips, his thick, heated length resting firmly against your core with the only thing separating you being the towel that had miraculously managed to stay wrapped around his hips this whole time.

At your surprised gasp he shot you a boyish smile, hands trailing down your arms to grasp your hands and intertwine your fingers. Still catching your bearings after that second orgasm, you allowed yourself to drop forward slightly, resting your face in the crook of his neck. You heard the way his breath hitched and hid a smile into his skin.

In all honesty, it took you much less time to recover than you would have thought— and if you were being completely honest it probably had something to do with the way Seokjin had begun rolling his hips just slightly, enough of a motion that it teased you back into a state of arousal without being too much at once. Soon enough, you were ready to go again, no doubt staining the front of his towel with how soaked you were becoming once more.

Allowing your hips to roll back and grind your core against his pelvis, you relished in the sharp moan that caught in his throat. You decided to give him back a little of what he gave out, pressing your lips softly along his skin before beginning to suckle and mark it much like he had done to you. He had the slight taste of salt and sweat that graced your tongue, his soft, lilting moans more than sweet enough to make up for it as they brushed your ears. His fingers tightened in their grip, slipping from your hands to come grasp your hips.

You lifted yourself up for a moment, sitting back and raising your hips so you could slip the towel from his waist. He inhaled sharply through his teeth, cock twitching to attention the second its cover was no longer present. Your mouth almost watered at the sight of him, thick and long, swollen with desire and leaking generous beads of precum at the tip of the straining member.

“Fuck, Seokjin,” you didn’t even realise you’d spoken, hand coming to trail tentatively along his length. He hissed and moaned sharply, hips twitching along with his member.

You could feel his eyes burning into you as you reached down to your pussy, gathering the generous amounts of slick from your folds so that your hand was coated before you took him into your grasp. The flesh of his cock was searing against your palm, throbbing in your hold, and if Seokjin’s soft whine was anything to go by then he was more than a little desperate for some sort of stimulation. Tightening your grip so that it was firmer, you began to stroke him, wrist rolling so that the movements were more fluid.

“y/n—” he groaned, head falling back against the mattress. You continued to jerk him off, thumb running over the flushed, sensitive flesh of his head with each upward stroke and relishing in the gasping moans that were elicited as a result.

Eventually he reached a hand to halt you in your motions, bringing you forward so that your hips were hovering over his own once more—you understood what he wanted and were eager to comply, grasping his length in hand and holding it steady as the head brushed your slicked, aching entrance.

Seokjin was content to wait for you as you allowed yourself to slowly sink down on his intimidating member, relishing in the slight burn of the stretch and the way his cock was splitting your walls and spearing into you. Sharp, keening moans tumbled from your throat unchecked as you slowly sank down, your thighs trembling as he was finally completely seated inside of you. Your arms shook a little, one hand going to find his and lace your fingers and the other resting against his chest.

“Move when you’re ready, kitten,” the soft comfort of the siren’s voice was all the encouragement you needed, thighs already beginning to burn a little as you lifted yourself up until only his tip was embraced by your walls, and then lowered to slowly spear yourself on him once more. The next time the entirety of his length was inside you the tip hit a bundle of nerves that had you crying out, clenching around him from the sudden flush of pleasure along your spine.

“Fuck!” you could have wept, wavering in your position atop of him as your pussy throbbed deliciously. “F-fuck…”

“Kitten, if you keep doing that I’m not going to last very long,” he warned, dulcet tone dipping into a moan at the end as you began to resume your slow, leisurely riding of his cock. You struggled to find words for a moment, gaze falling across his features and aweing over how stunning he was even now, sweaty and still damp from his bath. Even so, he was glowing—your gaze flickered to his lips, plush and bitten red, and you couldn’t help the question that rose to your lips.

“Seokjin,” you began, somewhat breathless as you shifted your hand to run your thumb over his nipple; he gasped, hips bucking up and pelvic bone grinding against your clit. “Can I kiss you, Seokjin?”

At your question you could see the dilemma cross his features, a look of regret making itself known despite the gleam in his eyes that told you he very much wanted it. “Flower, you know why—”

“I know, I accept it,” you lowered yourself so that your lips brushed the shell of his ear with your next words. “I want it—I want you. Please?”

Seokjin didn’t say anything for a moment, and you might have thought he was going to pretend you hand said anything at all, but then he groaned, long and deep, and uttered a low swear. His arms came up, one wrapping around you and the other coming to grasp your hip.

One moment was all you got before he grasped you tight and took over your job from your aching thighs—he snapped his hips up from the bed, slamming the thickness and length of his cock into you in its entirety. You keened, fingers digging into the bed and his shoulder at the sharp crack of pleasure and desire that shot through you, thighs trembling and walls clenching around him. Once he started that brutal pace he did not stop, holding you to him in place as he fucked up into you, cock slamming into you so hard and so good each time that you were nearly sobbing on top of him.

He pressed soft kisses against your jaw, your ear, the side of your face as he repeatedly speared into you, cock dragging against your aching walls with each stroke and sending your senses absolutely mad. With each forceful thrust he hit that same bundle of nerves inside of you, eliciting a new cry and moan from your throat. He drank them all in, each of them only fuelling him more and more in his sudden frenzy. A coil began to wind tight in your abdomen, quick in its pace.

“Fuck, Seokjin!” you cried out, teeth scraping his collarbone. “Fuck, I’m—”

Seokjin’s hips were beginning to stutter, the two of you too worked up for this to last all that long despite your best efforts. His hands left your body to come cup your face, bringing it gently but firmly before his own. He waited just long enough, gaze boring into your own with all the heat of a thousand suns, for you to reach the edge once more, before he brought you closer still. His breath brushed against your lips as he spoke, voice once more laced with the familiar edge of a command. “Cum for me, kitten.”

And not a second later you did, right as he brought your face down and slammed your lips to his. The sensation that took your body by storm was indescribable, and in combination with the incredible orgasm that had you crying out against his lips, body stiffening and pussy clenching around him, it was very near debilitating. Your release had pleasure washing over you like the heat from a fire on a cold day, sharp and distinctive but pleasant—but the sensation of Seokjin’s lips against yours, his siren kiss, as he took some of your energy, your life essence, for his own… it was as though an electrical current was zapping through your veins, a pull and tug that made your heart patter and stomach flip.

At the clenching of your walls around him and the taste of your essence, Seokjin came undone. His cock throbbed inside you and then he was cumming, his release painting your insides with scorching heat and filling you to the brim. He moaned against your lips, tongue darting out to deepen the kiss to which you hardly had the mind to reciprocate but happily obliged. Seokjin continued to hold his lips to yours, drinking in a combination of your moans and energy as you both began to come down from your high.

When he was no longer in the throes of his orgasm, the siren was quick to release you, jerking back as though he had been burned and gasping, “F-fuck, flower, y/n, are you alright? Did I take too much? Are y—”

It was a drowsy giggle that bubbled in your throat this time as you buried your face in his neck, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to the skin there. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Well, better than fine, actually.”

At your words the male relaxed, a relived sigh escaping him as one big gust of air. “Thank gods…”

You turned your head to peer up at his face, admiring how he seemed to glow despite the activity you’d both just partaken in. Of course, you supposed, it figures considering he was a siren.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, before letting out a yawn as your exhaustion caught up with you all at once. You were thankful he didn’t seem to want to go another round, because you honestly couldn’t take it. “Sleepy though.”

The male hummed, amused, as he brought his arms up to embrace you and hold you tight; neither of you paid any mind to his member where it was softening inside you, a combination of your fluids leaking out to dribble onto your skin. “I’m sure you are.”

He allowed you to rest a few moments, your eyelids drooping, before he began to ease out from under you, transferring you onto the bed as he got up. “Stay here for a moment while I get something to clean you up, flower.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, eyelids already fluttering closed as you curled into the comforter that had become unmade from the bed in your little tousle. It felt like only a moment later when Seokjin returned, damp cloth in hand, and made quick, gentle work of cleaning up your abused pussy. He pressed a kiss to each thigh before rising and depositing the cloth somewhere, then joining you in bed, peeling back the covers properly and tugging you up so your head was resting on an actual pillow.

You were barely lucid as he looped his arms around our waist and tugged you closer to him, but you welcomed the warmth and made sure to lean back into him—the pleased purr he offered was reward enough. Distantly, you remembered there was a lot you needed to find out, a lot you wanted to ask the siren currently spooning you, but right now you were too tired, too spent, to even entertain the thought of asking him. So for now, you allowed your eyes to close, and your body to relax back into him—those questions could wait for tomorrow, when your energy and your body have had time to recover.

In the meanwhile, you enjoyed the warmth and security you found in Seokjin’s embrace, and allowed yourself to slip into sleep where you dreamt of a honey, dulcet voice singing all your worries away.

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

The Mean Girls club gets destroyed

So a while back I had the joy of stopping around 5 girls who had been openly using and abusing people. Most of them ended up losing partners and almost all their friends one lost their job two went to jail and they all lost their social status.

So context, years ago I worked in a large corporate store, trust me you would know if I told you the name. Now during this time I was in a dark place emotionally for various reasons and was very much a loaner which led to me being a target for this one girl (let’s call her CS for cos-play slut) now I know it sounds terrible me calling her that but really it’s what she was and trust me as this story goes on you’ll see why.

Now she quickly befriends me and gets me to help with video editing and photo shots I say yes as at the time I was trying to get into content creation and figured it’d help and I was a very lonely depressed virgin at the time and any girl showing interest in me made my brain go crazy. Looking back I kick myself for letting her use me that way but I was stupid and didn’t know better. This girl used me for everything from making me edit videos for her and her friends totaling around 3 or 4 videos a day all with different styles and length to getting up early to help with shoots that had to be done at sun up to get “the magic hour”. (I know it’s a real thing but still not the best thing to spend your day doing when your days off are spent making videos)

As well as using my help for her online stuff she used me for a lot of other things rides to her “meetings” with potential photographers (she never picked her them she was just sleeping with them) to buying her movie tickets that’d she would go to claim being alone with me in a theatre made her nervous so I’d have to wait outside for then I’d have to buy her food on a daily basis at work then if we ever did anything outside of it.

Now I know this sounds like I was the worlds biggest cuck and yeah I was. I had no self confidence as previously stated was a virgin with very little ability to socialize and never learned to choose how and when to give my help. So I was an easy target for all this, my parents tried to warn me against it but i didn’t listen and even at one point told her I liked her only for her to laugh in my face.

This went on for months in that time I quit content creation but was still editing her videos and was always doing something for her. One day while she was having me buy her supplies for another cosplay we ran into another girl whom we will call RB (random bitch) she was nice enough very energetic at first and I felt like we could get along so we exchanged info and became friends on fb. Afterwards CS told me how she was in a relationship and not to try and hit on her not even talk to her because I gave off a “creeper” vibe.

I only mention that interaction before this next one because it is chronological and because it was the first time I can ever trace back to the two of them working together against me. So after that CS starts going after another guy not gonna give him a special name but let’s just say he was terrible I mean really bad. Him and CS meet up once bang them he tells her all these lies about emotional damage and how they have to keep things a secret but still wants to be together. She believes him but he ghosts her she gets worried and has me look into from my end with an old friend. Now here two things happen that to this day I’m happy happened because it let me later on get my revenge the first was I created a second fb account pretending to be a girl the next was CS gave me full access to her fb.

Now like I said this dude was bad news he was cheating on her didn’t even need to catfish him just sent him a friend request and got dp back. Then I learned from some friends he did this serially and then ran across a girl who after I asked her about him responded “that’s the man that raped me don’t contact me again.”

I gathered all this evidence and brought it to CS and she flat out refused to believe it was real claiming I had faked it and was just jealous of him and that she and I were never going to be friends again. I said ok and we stopped being friends.

Now then that was my interaction with CS, after we broke off our friendship I started messaging RB and we became friends little did I know the real story behind them. I’ll be quicker with this than with RB but to put it lightly she was worse she would constantly have me just give her money and buy her things like expensive things. I never felt like I could say no because if I did she would give a sob story about her sad childhood and me being a bleeding heart would cave.

This went on for two years during which time I got a lot better more self confident and a better all around person but i always would go back to my sad self when she would belittle me. Finally I had had enough I told her to stop messaging me and we weren’t friends anymore. She took it hard dragging my name thru the mud at the end of it I had one friend left.

Skip ahead two months and I’m feeling way better I’m smiling more often no longer wanna take my own life and am feeling great. But I was still upset about everything that had happened but couldn’t do anything that was until I got bored one day and was looking thru my phone and saw something interesting. CS’s account was still logged into my phone a second profile. On a lark I tried opening it it let me she hadn’t changed her password and had given it permission to just sign in.

I thought I was just gonna have a weird voyeuristic look into her life but what I found was even worse a fb group that was literally called “Mean Girls Club” in it I found 5 girls including RB and CS all talking about what they were getting guys to buy them and do for them. It was horrid to look at I scrolled up and up and up all the way to the first message and it went back years. I don’t know how but these 5 had been doing it for so long it was crazy.

It was then I started to form a plan. The first thing I did was screen shot everything and when I mean everything I mean I had thousands of pictures from this including but not limited to pictures of stuff they had bought or had bought for them. Nudes of their partners or of people they were interested in and then the biggest one a shared drop box folder filled with pictures and videos of them doing a lot of nasty stuff I mean really bad. Apparently this whole thing was set up so that none of them could stop nor back down at anytime due to the blackmail Dropbox and the fact the rest of the group would back the others.

I know this is crazy to understand but let me put it this way from what I gathered to OG group was a total of 8 girls and 1 guy the numbers that left all were told they would be ruined and boy was it bad. I read about them making some of the people leaving lose their jobs and families falsely accusing the one guy of rape of which if what they said was true he was forced to move to another state because of the rumors.

On top of that they ruined a local store making them go out of business and then getting another guy thrown in jail after they accused him of attacking one of them. I can list plenty of what they did that was bad but mostly all of it was them bragging about guys they were using for stuff and money and what they could get them to buy them. I of course was on there as was everything I ever bought them totaling around 5500 over two years. The two of them CS and RB were so proud of what they did.

I was astonished by what had happened and was honestly very hurt by it all I knew they were bitches but nothing of this level. So I did what anybody would do I turned them against each other. The first thing I did was use my fake profile to enter into the group chat under the guise of a friend of CS’s. Took some time and creative use of the two profiles but I did it then moved onto insight some war by messaging each of them about the others of the course of a month I had them all suspicious of each other with some he said she said then I struck with one reveal.

I sent RB’s bf a message from CS’S profile in sighting them to openly flirt then took a step back and told RB about it. All the while with my fake profile I told CS that RB wanted to burn her by sending out her blackmail then I messaged the rest relaying info on the upcoming conflict telling them to prepare to burn another person if someone else struck (think start of world war 1 but with 20 something girls). 3 hours was all it took from went that past message went out to the first “bomb” fell. It was glorious each one destroying the other telling significant others about lies cheating and theft. Jobs being called about misuse of company property and inappropriate behavior in the work place. Full on sex tapes were posted to tons of porn sites.

It was three months later that the dust cleared everyone but CS had deleted their social media accounts. It was then that CS started in on my fake account demanding for some form a of repayment stating she had never added me to the the group and that no one had had any dirt on me so I was unscathed. I responded with “Well let’s just say I’m a bitch, the names Karma.”

I deleted the profile and lost the login info for CS. I keep the Dropbox stuff though and screenshots since I’m sure if they ever put two and two together they could guess who I was. But now a full year later nothing.

I’ve not been able to know more then the basic repercussions of this sense I didn’t know the other three personally but RB ended up homeless for a few months before going to jail sense some of the blackmail was a video of her doing drugs while skipping a court date about drug use (she openly stated in the video the date and that the courts could suck it and told them later she was helping a friend go thru some hard time to get an extension) jail due to her breaking parole and lying to a judge. CS lost her day job and all but around 30 of over 5k followers as well as her bf who she was cheating on then he back up bf since she was cheating on him with another guy who was just in it for the sex. Last I heard she moved back in with her parents and can’t keep a job due to her running into people who know what happened.

TL:DR Got emotionally and financially used by two girls and then made their mean girl chat destroy each other’s lives.

PS if rslash is reading this hope you know you inspired me to share this because your vids are amazing.

(source) story by (/u/notmine1337)

#prorevenge #by /u/notmine1337 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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aquilamage · 5 years

Text

I finally finished the Klavier pov companion fic to the last klavbastian thing I wrote! (which I’ll rb in a moment because I know this site doesn’t like links in original posts)

Klavier composes his first letter before he even finishes unpacking, scribbling it out over a box in his lap because the desk is too cluttered to use. It’s nothing too fancy. Just enough to tell Sebastian that he made it safely and give him a mailing address like he promised. It gets sent out a few hours later once he’s shown the nearest post box. Klavier knows it’ll be a few days’ wait both ways (and anyway doesn’t expect a response to this one), so he resolves to write another one soon.

‘Soon’ turns out to be several days later, the single one between orientation and the start of classes. He’s simply been so busy that the energy to write out as detailed and heartfelt a letter as he wants simply hasn’t been in him. Sprawled across the floor, he fills the page. Themis starts a few days later than them, so hopefully this should reach Sebastian when he’s at the same point Klavier is now. He pauses when he thinks of that. It’s a nice thought, that all these little facts have lined up so that the two of them are separated by time and distance and yet also technically having this conversation at the same point in their lives.

There’s definitely a song in that, he thinks, and smiles as he skips down a few lines to tell that to Sebastian.

He also tells him to watch out for himself this year, especially since “you’re going to have to share top of the class with someone else. Try not to make me too jealous?” That had been one of the similarities the two of them had bonded over, along with their age. It wasn’t a massive difference from their peers, but they had still been the youngest in every course. Klavier had actually struck up their initial conversation based on this, reasoning that they ought to stick together. Even though they’re apart now, he writes, that sentiment hasn’t changed.

---

He finally gets around to decorating in the second week of classes. After ages of looking at the box of things and meaning to get to it but only ever remembering at the most inconvenient times, he sits up from his textbook and starts right then. It’s a complicated affair, with everything he’s brought. The highlight, though, is the photographs – a few with his parents (copies, he didn’t want to risk bringing the originals); newer ones of just him and Kris; Professor Courte before his first mock trial, her hand on his shoulder and her expression immeasurably proud; random group shots of friends and the band; a lot of weird selfies with Daryan.

Putting them up takes longer than if he were simply doing the physical act. Klavier stops to really look at them, remembering the people with a fondness that only gets stronger when he remembers that he won’t be seeing any of them again until he’s done here. Each captures his attention for different reasons, but the one that gives him the longest pause is of himself and Sebastian.

Klavier’s arm is over his shoulder, the other held out to take the picture. Sebastian’s hand is on Klavier’s and he’s looking at him more than the camera. It had been an ordinary…well, Klavier can’t remember the day of the week, but the two of them had been hanging out after school somewhere on the grounds last year when Klavier realized he didn’t have any pictures with or of his friend. That situation had to be rectified immediately, of course. The clearest thing Klavier remembers is Sebastian’s initial surprise that he even wanted one. Mostly because it was a bit of an odd reaction, but also for how it pulled at Klavier in the same way seeing his friend in distress did, although he has yet to figure out why those seem connected. And then of course, there was Sebastian’s wide-eyed look when Klavier presented him with a copy the next day. He had tucked it inside one of his books with delicate care.

Despite having known the fact before, it was only after that event that Klavier’s mind had really registered the fact that Sebastian didn’t have any other friends. On the barest surface level, he supposed he might understand. But even that was hard because Klavier knew if people took even a few seconds to look past Sebastian’s first impression, it wasn’t exactly difficult to see what he was really like. Becoming friends hadn’t even been any effort. Show Sebastian the smallest bit of interest and kindness and he was all over you. (To the extent that it worried Klavier, sometimes.)

But despite Klavier’s subsequent efforts to help expand his friend’s social circle, something out of their control always seemed to block their progress. Sebastian gave up relatively quickly, and Klavier respected his wishes enough to drop it as well. Besides, he still had time with Sebastian during the number of classes they shared, plus before and after school, and the lunches where he would sometimes leave his usual table and go sit with him in one of his hiding places (the latter not as often because Sebastian tended to alternate between ‘of course you’d want to be with me’ and distress about Klavier losing his other friends if he kept doing this).

Klavier sighs as he puts the picture up at eye level. It fits perfectly. He should write another letter.

---

Klavier isn’t worried about Sebastian’s lack of response yet. Themis keeps students busy even at the beginning of the year, and figuring out international postage does take a while. Besides, words aren’t Sebastian’s strongest point. If he can be patient with him during conversation, he can certainly extend the same courtesy over written communication.

Being conscious of that does encourage him to tone down on how often he scribbles down some new thought to share with his friend. It’s hard going from talking with someone every day to not at all. Klavier’s got a lot of friends, but there’s always been something about Sebastian that feels…different. In a good way.

A day or so later he’s thinking about someone else he’s been missing and a thought clicks into place for him. At the bottom of his newest letter, he adds a note asking him to say hello to Professor Courte for him, if he can. (He considers mentioning this to her as well, but decides against it. Better to let Sebastian do it on his own terms.) Now that he’s thinking about it, he doesn’t know why he never introduced the two of them before. Courte always told him any friend of his was welcome with her. And she’d be good for him, even if only to have someone to talk to.

---

Klavier still wouldn’t call himself worried, but he can’t deny a twinge of concern peeking out its head. By this point, it has been a non-insignificant time since he started writing. He checks his mail daily, enough that he won’t miss anything, but not so much that he’s working himself up. His first thought is that he’s somehow messed up the address and practically sprints out at the end of class to go check. Eventually, though, he’s forced to admit that the reference he’s been using is correct. Besides, if it really were wrong the letters would’ve been returned by now. Going off of that, though, he starts to think he somehow put the return address on wrong, which isn’t exactly anything he can check.

The next time he writes, he makes absolute sure that he’s gotten it perfectly and one hundred percent legible, just in case.

---

Midterms roll around and consume his attention. Those days fly past in a whirl of studying and test-taking where the only marker of time is what subject he’s working on.

Being done should be a relief. The night after his exams are completed, however, he finds himself unable to sleep, wracked with the dread of having forgotten something very important. It’s only during the latest hours that it dawns on him.

“Sebastian,” he whispers, clutching his hand to his chest.

(The fact that he’s also neglected communication with everyone else back home is realized a little later, and with less fanfare. And that fact isn’t something that he will pick up on for a while yet.)

The grip his feelings have on his insides won’t let him sleep. But he doesn’t write either. There hasn’t been much of interest to report, and he hasn’t any particular thoughts to say. It’s just that he misses Sebastian with a sudden ardency that’s a bit alarming, actually. (Another form of homesickness, he figures, to be expected when dealing with the withdrawal from someone you’re used to seeing so often.)

Fortunately, the next few days provide him with a diversion in the form of a local music festival. Klavier spends most of his time there after class. It’s nice, and by the end of it he’s also filled several pages describing everything to Sebastian.

Music’s always been the easiest connecting point between them. Despite, or perhaps because of their different preferred styles, it’s almost too easy for them to become tangled in complicated discussions, everything else forgotten. In terms of showing the other new music, Klavier is almost always the one doing it, but he doesn’t mind. It’s far too enjoyable an experience watching Sebastian react to things. That encouraged him, as time went on, to seek out music he thought Sebastian would enjoy, just to get another glimpse at that secret little smile he only seemed to make when that happened. Or sometimes things that he definitely wouldn’t like, because his passionate explanations about that were also invariably cute to watch.

It’s in that spirit that he’s been making recommendations in his letters, even if he isn’t going to get Sebastian’s immediate reactions. This time is no different, as he makes sure to emphasize the names of those artists who he thinks Sebastian would like.

That isn’t the only thing he enjoys about their conversations, he muses one day while studying. Klavier’s noticed Sebastian’s tendency to make himself bigger or smaller than he actually is when interacting with people. Talking with Klavier about music is one of the only times he doesn’t try to do either. He doesn’t know what about that situation makes Sebastian feel so at ease, but he’s eternally grateful for it.

Because that makes him comfortable as well. Sure, Klavier has other people he can and does talk music with, but there’s something different about talking with Sebastian. He figures it’s got to do with how passionate he is. Sebastian cares so much, is the only person Klavier’s met who shares his level of enthusiasm about music. Who hangs on to every word of Klavier’s but still freely expresses disagreement when it occurs. When they’re both in the middle of a discussion and getting progressively more excited, feeding off the other’s energy, it feels so right. Like that’s where the music of his life is and everything else in between those moments is just one big rest.

It isn’t until he drifts out of thought that Klavier realizes he’s been humming something. He runs through it again and smiles. New music.

---

Klavier tries to keep himself from missing Sebastian so much. But it's hard, going so long without talking to him, especially with how often he's reminded of him. In the way he instinctually turns to comment on something in class. In the music he listens to, so much of it having been shared. In the way other people’s gestures always make him picture the dips and twists of Sebastian’s hand while he’s concentrating. Even in the twinges of concern that run through him now and again, his mind used to interpreting not seeing his friend in a while as a signal that he should go look for him.

The missing consumes him, he could say, but the reality is nothing so dramatic. It sneaks up on him, quietly, softly, a variant on feelings he’s already experienced but never bothered to identify. And doesn’t, until he’s getting up, the early morning sun warm and promising on his shoulders. His eyes immediately fall on the picture of Sebastian, and he sighs. It comes to him then, as easily and undramatic as drawing breath. He smiles. Of course. With that recognition everything else falls into context.

He loves Sebastian. Has for some time perhaps, he isn’t sure. Not that it matters. All that does is the warm joy of the here and now.

---

The first time it does make him pause is the next time he puts pen to paper to write a letter. He wants to tell Sebastian, there’s no questioning that. But to do it in writing…he’s not sure how right that feels. He’d much rather in person. Then again, it’s still months and months until he goes back, and the idea of waiting that long…

So he writes out the rest of what he has to say. Carefully putting that to the side, he takes out some scrap paper. If he can’t figure out how to put what he wants to say into writing in a way that he feels satisfied with, then he won’t include it.

Nearly a week passes before he finishes striking the right balance. An honest, accurate expression of his own feelings that also make it clear that whatever Sebastian feels (Klavier had taken almost a full day off writing when that hit him, the thought that Sebastian might return the sentiment left him dizzy and clasping a hand to his chest from how full his heart was), Klavier will be fine with it. Klavier’s noticed how Sebastian thinks he has to earn people’s affection, and the last thing he wants is for that to happen here. That, more than anything else, he thinks, would hurt him to see happen.

He seals the envelope with a careful reverence and holds it close as he takes it to mail. And just like that, the deed is done. All he can do now is wait for Sebastian to read it.

---

Having already gone several months without any letters, Klavier really shouldn’t be so surprised that Sebastian hasn’t responded to this one yet. But as time goes on, he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants this time to be different. To get a response. He’s wishing with every feeling he has that it’s reciprocated, reassuring himself that either way, things will turn out alright.

But eventually, even that certainty begins to shake. Whatever other reasons he’s used in the past to understand why Sebastian never writes have been shoved aside as Klavier’s convinces himself that now it’s because of what he said. If Sebastian is happy, if he loves him as well or even thinks he could, then what reason would there possibly be for him to remain silent in the face of his confession? No, the only answer is Sebastian is angry or repulsed, or feeling like Klavier’s taken advantage of his trust. Maybe he has. What right does Klavier have to make such declarations? True, that’s what he felt, still feels now, but had he really thought through what it would be like on the other side of that?

---

Klavier starts writing again. The first letter is a simple apology, heartfelt as the confession but with quiet contemplation in the place of its warm exuberance. What he said can’t be taken back; he could never lie to Sebastian like that even if it might make his friend feel better. But if he can at least atone for what he’s done…

He writes many letters of that kind as the days go on. Initially of the same tone and content of the first, in the vague hope that perhaps Sebastian hadn’t opened the previous, the hurt of what Klavier had done being too near. But soon they begin to match the desperation in his heart, for the first time asking for a response, begging Sebastian to at least tell him if he was upset, he doesn’t even care at this point (that’s a lie; he does care. No matter how much he tries to bury it he can’t change the fact that even if Sebastian said he despised him to his face it wouldn’t be enough to root out the love nestled into the deepest part of Klavier’s being. It would only hurt). Anything would be better than the agony of not knowing.

He should’ve waited, he tells himself. Kept it to himself and treasured his feelings just like he’s come to treasure the person they concern, until he went back home and had the conversation in person. But no. No matter how much he’d dressed it up in pretty phrases, the fact was that Klavier had put his own silly emotions before those of the person he supposedly cared about so much. His brother has told him a thousand times that he is too soft, too emotional, that he runs entirely on impulses of the heart without so much as a thought in his head. And as time stretches ever on, faced with more of the same nothing in response, Klavier finally finally finally begins to resign himself to the fact that every bit of that is right, and now that inability to take things seriously has gone and ruined everything, leaving him with the ruins of a friendship and the heartache of knowing he’s responsible for hurting the person he loves most.

#Ace Attorney #Klavier Gavin #klavbastian #my writing #fanfiction #Sebastian Debeste #(mentioned)#and of course it's about twice as long as the first. got excited I guess #no longer unrequited but still angsty! yay?

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