#phantasmagorical world au

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

it's that time again!

wahoo hey hi everyone i'm doing another fic roundup of a small sampling of my favorite things from this year! it's not super complete and this year it is a mix of ao3 and things posted directly onto tumblr

i know i'm going to miss a ton of awesome pieces but here's the best attempt in no particular order (also just go read stuff from all these authors anyway, they rule)

Angus McDonald and the Arcade Enigma by ceilingfan5 (ao3)

Angus takes his nephew to the arcade; they both have their eyes on unique prizes

parlay, as a gamble by anistarrose (ao3)

Merle tries to get in touch with the Red Robe but is pretty sure he's got a wrong number

One Last Dance by writtenfanworksofGab (liltaz-asatreat)

Taako and Kravitz share a final dance at the end of the world.

Tedious Familiarity by IntrovertedHappiness (barry-j-blupjeans)

A character study of Barry Bluejeans and the lives he leads in his decade alone.

Someone I Have Loved, But Never Known by anistarrose

Barry and Lup try to help each other find the spouses neither of them can remember with only their unique rings as clues.

leaving, as an injustice by anistarrose

A character study of Merle Highchurch through the eyes of Mavis

Scamming me, scamming you by Noodyl (noodyl-blasstal)

Kravitz has a grand time scamming circles around a would-be email scammer; on a completely unrelated note, Taako confesses to his crush via email.

Lovebites by Mmmarty (x)

Barry is a super devoted familiar to two twin vampires for Absolutely No Reason, Don't Be Silly

you got me used to loving you (hurry on home) by raezura (hellawrath)

Taako's got a surprise for Kravitz.

in light of last week's events by rosgoldhalberd (phantasmagoric-acquaintance)

Barry and Lup have a little talk after Lup fed on him

Keep Your Friends Close (And the Lich Who Gives You Cryptid Advice Closer) by IntrovertedHappiness

Magnus spends time trying to figure out who is good, who is bad, and who decides both of these statuses.

this ficlet by ceilingfan5

it's from the taz november celebration and i just need you to read it okay? it slaps, veritably

this celebrity au ficlet by phantasmagoric-acquaintance

the celeb twins au that lives inside hali and my head is one of my favorite things in the world and you too can get a glimpse

mallternate universe by phantasmagoric-acquaintance

come play in the mall au please it's so fun and good for the soul

once again, please please please go read literally anything from these authors, they all rule and are so fun and lovely (and also some of them have really cool original fiction stuff you should also check out!!!)

#rip (reeses in pieces) #fic rec #long post #trying to not make this a mile long vs my friends being amazing goddamn writers !!!! #anyway i know im forgetting some bangers that i've read and that's not on purpose my brain is just a sieve #taz balance #also they're all balance because i haven't finished any other arc #i know some of these lovely authors have also written amnesty grad and eathersea stuff!!

[lordofthestrix]

Tristora in a phantom of the opera au bc why not

What could I do with this? Let's see... Basic premise: Aurora de Martel is, as far as the world knows, the sole survivor of the deadly fire that took away her family, her home and her good fortune. Orphaned at seven years of age, Aurora would eventually reunite with a voice from her past at the Palais Garnier. Becoming the visible but unrecognized face of the strange duet that holds a phantasmagorical hold over the place. Who asks the other on dates: In the beginning Tristan is the one who always appears and invites her to secret meetings under the cover of the night. But I believe Aurora is probably more pro-active than your prototypical Christine Daaé. She is very intuitively aware of the moments when Tristan is watching over her. She is almost supernaturally good at realizing when she can say something subtle out loud and expect him to hear. Including allusions to the desire for a speedy meeting between the two. Added to this, they have at least one or two secret spots where Aurora can leave a ciphered or coded message, following their new tradition, and she is not afraid to use them to suggest time and place for their next clandestine encounter.

Who is the bigger cuddler: They spent some years apart in this au and one can instantly tell by the way both of their bodies very naturally react like perpetually attracted magnets ravenous to demand a feast for each missing day. Who initiates holding hands more often: Following the aesthetics of the film, Tristan began wearing leather gloves and the first thing Aurora does whenever they see each other, sometimes without even realizing it, is get rid of them. Who remembers anniversaries: I don't think they celebrate anniversaries here. In part because every day since their re-encounter carries a special, festive air for them. Aurora still receives something quite unique to celebrate her for her birthday. No matter the universe it appears she will never get rid of that. Who is more possessive: Tristan is ferociously envious of the seething injustice of anyone and everyone who gets to share the world with Aurora for a fleeting second in a way he no longer can. Who gets more jealous: Tristan. Although there are times when Tristan's written demands suggestions for the opera house mention the positive traits of some specific performer or another and Aurora gives him a run for his money. Who is more protective: Tristan will hang you from a rope if you so much as make his sister sad one lonely time. Who is more likely to cheat: Tristan has one fourth of his face burned under the owl-themed mask and his profession is as governing legend over an opera house. An acquired taste of a gentleman, let's say. Speaking in statistics alone, he is not precisely a coveted bachelor here. Who initiates sexy times the most: Whoever is not holding or playing a musical instrument at that given moment. Who dislikes PDA the most: Aurora has some bold and wild ideas on just how much they can get away with under the right disguise in public. Tristan is both extremely elated and sharply cautious about exploring some of the world at her side again under these condition. Neither of them is at all opposed to the displays of affection involved. Who kills the spider: Tristan explained that you can transform even catacombs into a glorious and grand hideaway if you learned how to make the territory yours. Aurora proceeded to kill the spider. That was her way of making the territory hers. Who asks the the other to marry them: No marriage proposal. Although there is a very much say you'll share with me one love one lifetime at the end of Point of No Return moment. Who buys the other flowers or gifts: Added to the obvious flowers, Tristan writes her plots to harmoniously accompany her music and makes sure they are transformed into plays for her enjoyment. Although no one except for them knows some of the compositions originally came from Aurora. Tristan does sign differently depending on if what he is presenting is of his own authorship, Aurora's or a collaboration. This caused some to theorize that they are haunted not by one but several spirits. Aurora has some financial limitations when it comes to gifts in this universe but whatever she gifts Tristan, he most definitely treasures. Who would bring up possibly having kids: The real question is when are we going to find an au where that is an attractive possibility for either of them. Because I don't think this universe is going to be the exception. Who is more nervous to meet the parents: Zombies are a dreadful pest. All of us should be if not nervous at least annoyed when thinking about the possibility of zombies. Who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry: What couch? Begone from my sight, not-applicable question Who tries to make up first after arguments: A strange system of hinting innuendos and extremely small insinuations and gestures any other person would call them insane for assuming the other understands. They both understand it. Who tells the other they love them more often: They probably fell sleep in the intimate reverie of hearing it repeatedly from the other after they reunited. They haven't been able to keep count since then.

#Ladamedemartel #Hopefully it isn't a complete disaster. #This ended up being 90% inspired by the film and musical. #With only minor references to the book. #I talked to you about Iris right? My sister slash musical theatre fanatic? #She would be proud of me today.

[alitheakorogane]

Day 7 - Illusion

(The Illusion of The Bright Future Ahead)

"Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces."

-Sigmund Freud

------

This is still part of my Phantasmagorical World AU, where Clockwork never resets the timeline and give Danny a second chance. Danny's family and friends still died on the explosion and Danny was sent into Vlad's custody.

But instead of separating his humanity and became Dark Dan, which he doesn't want to be since he made the dreaded tragedy possible, he had planned to approach the wishing ghost, Desiree, on a meteor shower event, and wish that the explosion never happened and his loved ones are still alive.

Desiree grants his wish, but in a twisted way. She placed him in a make-believe world where everything were fine, his loved ones were still alive and he was still the hero of Amity Park. The worst is, Danny forgets about the wish.

But Danny noticed how strange it was now compared to before, as he was starting to get stronger easily, Vlad became more deranged as ever, and the Amity Park was starting to warm up to his presence.

That means everything happened after The Ultimate Enemy was just a dream, a phantasmagorical world created to make Danny happy, and as a distraction for Desiree to enact her plans to become powerful.

While Danny was happy in the fake world, someone in the fake world will try to make him remember his wish before the real world and Amity Park crumbles without his protection.

-----

The pictures in each shards are actually scenes from episodes after The Ultimate Enemy to Phantom Planet, representing the fake memories this PWAU!Danny had experienced.

#dannymay2021 #dannymay #danny phantom #phantasmagorical world au #illusion #dannymay day 7 #danny phantom artstyle #danny phantom fan art #danny fenton #danny phantom au #dp au #phanart #danny phantom phanart

[lunalucrea]

Favorite fics by some of your buddies on Tumblr and Discord?

Oh man, there's so many! It's hard to limit myself, especially since I read such a wide range of fic. I can find enjoyment in just about any trope or genre to an extent, and I have like... 900 bookmarks haha.

Sorry not sorry for the amount of pure adoration I have for these people and their fics. A few of my favs (but by no means is this all of them) are:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274960/chapters/66637159

Little Sunshine, by CosmicMerman.

I adore this fic. I usually have a hard time getting into the whole "Izuku gets turned into a cat" trope... but this isn't really typical of the trope considering the *twist.* This fic is just. so good. Aizawa is the focus character in this, and their characterization of him is just phenomenal, and the way they portray depression is really realistic and I just. felt. it. in my chest. I will never not gush about this fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31689026

we are but remnants of stars (and somehow you still shine) by CalicoLynx @faelwenholdsthelight

I may be a bit biased here, because this is a gift fic they wrote for one of my prompts during fic-fight... but man, did they nail it. They knew exactly how to target me directly and kick my knees out from under me. It's a sweet fic, but it also kinda hurts and that's my whole jam. Light Tododeku, which is my favorite ship. Plus, the characters are .stars. literally. Space is like... my whole thing. What's not to love?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22155211/chapters/52887604

Presumed Dead, by cornflower_Blue @cornflowerbluewrites

Ok, listen. Like everyone here, I have a very hard time picking any one fic I love for Alice. She's got so many that I adore. Phoenix, worm fic, just... all of them. But I chose this one in particular because I have a soft spot for kidnapping/escape/gasp he's not dead? tropes. My first MHA fic is a kidnapping/recovery fic, after all. And Alice does it so well. She knows how to capture the characters I love.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942834

Phantasmagoric by Orkestrations @autisticmidoriyas

Again, it's hard to choose, but phantasmagoric and it's sequels just hit me hard in all the right ways. Dire, hopeless timeloop situation, angst, hurt/comfort with all my favorite characters, who's characterizations are all just. On point. Dadmight. Dadzawa. It's just my jam all around and Kestrel is an amazing writer.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798505/chapters/59972725

Complicated Creation by Elemental @elementalsight

Is a fic rec post even really a fic rec post without CC? Haha. Elemental handles this AU setting so well, and all the characters are incredibly fleshed out and believable in the world, while still staying true to their canon selves. I adore AU fics that don't get rid of quirks, and you can tell that they put so much time and effort into the worldbuilding.

There you go anon! five recs from me, by a few of my discord peeps! I could honestly go on for days because there's so many writers I love, who's fics I admire. I can always do more later if people are really interested!

#fanfic #mha fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #some recs #some of my discord peeps #fanfiction recs

[lightdancer1]

We might have a little more writing in Avatar! Azula and Omashu AU please?^_^.

OK, Avatar!Azula bit first:

Mai and Ty Lee had, in the beginning, not understood the ways their parents reacted when the news came from Azulon, the former Fire Lord before the strange 'stroke' that had taken a man in vigorous health. They had been ordered to make friends with Princess Azula, and had met the entity that walked and spoke with the collective voices and insight of ten thousand years.

Their first impulses had been to scream and run, but something had stopped them. It was golden eyes looking at them forlornly, bitter, resigned. And to their stunned surprise that friendship had become very real and they had pulled a person from the eerie events and supernatural phantasmagorical events that surrounded the Avatar. That had become noticed. Then exile, for the crime of finding a human being within a legend. For Azula, actual breathing person Azula reaching out to them and them to her.

Three years later the Palace was obliterated in a horrific incident that they had understood, all right. They had feared that the twisted monster Azulon and Ozai wanted (so easy to forget titles when you saw a child suffering and knew it could have been you if things were otherwise) had won out.

Then the Princess had returned on a dragon, Water Tribe children at her side. Had returned, had found them, and then collapsed weeping into their arms, weighed down by the burden that grasped her. Blind Destiny in his garden had thrown an iron ring around them all. The Water Tribe children spoke of Fate, Fate that had decreed them fight to undo the terrible world that raged around the world.

For them it was both a weightier and a softer burden. They could fight, and fight superbly. But they were humanity itself for an Avatar born for terrible purpose. They had seen Azula fight, and it showed them why Avatars had shrines and eyes to see across the world. Devastating. Godlike. Words that came to mind.

And now, by a fire kindled by her flames and sustained by the Water Tribe children who gave them uneasy glimpses that softened at the other sight, Azula slept, curled up beside them. Almost more like a cat or like her dragon than a person. She only slept with her belly and her neck exposed around them, a crude and primordial sense of trust but one no less real.

The younger Water Tribe girl, the Waterbender, gave them a look of hostility and wary respect.

"She only sleeps when she's around you."

Their gaze turned to her, surprised.

"Oh she closes her eyes, but she has terrible nightmares and it's.....not fun, to have an Avatar have nightmares. The ground uh....it shakes."

Ty Lee tilted her head, her hand on Azula's shoulder.

"She never did tell us how she knew you, or why she had us look for both of you with her."

Mai answered, not her, and her voice was soft, and strangely detached.

"We were punished in the past for something we did around her." (Katara's hands instinctively moved to a waterskin and Mai did not smile as hers rested on a spring the Avatar had made for her).

"We helped her be Azula, not the Avatar, or the Wrath of Agni, as she was expected to be by her father and her grandfather. She was lonely and hurting and we helped her be less than that. So the Fire Nation exiled us, me to my parents," (and she shuddered at that cruel mercy) and Ty to hers."

Ty Lee nodded. "And you can guess how that went for me by my er, running to the circus."

The Water Tribe children blinked and nodded once.

"It might have spared our lives. Or it might not have. She saved her brother and her uncle because they treated her like people. And all of her handmaidens. That's the worst part of it, you know?"

Their eyes met hers, and the fire almost seemed to reflect in them, one of those small elements of strangeness around the Avatar that they took for granted.

"if more people had been like us, or her brother, and seen a person and not a weapon to scourge the world, it would have been better for us and worse for you." Mai shook her head.

"And we were the ones who did, and now we're here."

A silence fell, long and uncomfortable. The fire crackled and the Avatar slept the calm sleep of peace and tranquility.

"Well," her brother said, strangely lightly, "she needs it. I think the world needs it."

Mai bit her lip.

"Kindness is a strange thing, sometimes."

And there was silence again, one less uncomfortable than before. No screams that night, or on the others where Mai and Ty Lee were there. Talking, sometimes, sorrowful and regretful. Voices that were not Azula's and instead those of men and women or worse, It. The Thing within her flesh that spoke with a primordial set of antisounds that reached into the very soul.

Next to some of the things Katara and Sokka had gotten used to it was quiet enough that the tranquility itself still disturbed them and not least Mai's statement. The next morning they would be heading to a place of great significance, where they would meet Bato and learn of things of no little importance. Azula had seen this in the fires, though only she knew of the fullness of where they were going or why.

#atla aus #avatar azula #avatar azula au

[minstrivia]

; THE BEDTIME CRYPTICS |☽

this is the masterlist for all fics included in this series. enjoy. x

CAUTION ✘ LUCID DREAMING AHEAD

— pairings: ot7 x reader

— genre: smut, angst, pwp, slow burn, au’s (all are specified under each part)

— overall est. word count: 125k+

— warnings: will be specified further with each released part

↳ release date ⇢ sometime in 2020

* word counts may vary

「❖」

; the nyctophiliac | m.

nyctophiliac; (n.) love of darkness or light, finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness

— pairings: jeon jungkook x reader

— genre: smut, vampire!jungkook, pwp, bdsm, subspace

— est. word count: 20k+

— synopsis: finding a job as a gap year student proves harder than you’d once believed and after weeks of searching you were almost close to giving up. that is, until you suddenly strike gold on a job of a lifetime and all you have to do is solely occupy a mansion. only problem is, you have no clue who it is you’re working for, yet he watches your every move. and before you know it you’re uncovering secrets of the underlying world that are better left hidden.

release date ⇢ tba | teaser | moodboard

↳ READ HERE

「❖」

; a thaumaturgy | m.

thaumaturgy; (n.) the working of wonders or miracles, magic

— pairings: park jimin x reader

— genre: smut, angst, angel!jimin, demon!reader, defloweration

— est. word count: 25k+

— synopsis: for as long as you know, a friendship between the likes of demons and angels has been forbidden, and for good reason. despite it though, you’ve been friends with a particular angel that you’d met at a bust operation. the dynamics you both had settled in, worked for the most part, but recently it seems as if your angel friend could want more. so what is to say of a possible romance when mere friendship is disowned?

release date ⇢ tba | teaser | moodboard

↳ READ HERE

「❖」

; the crepescular | m.

crepescular; (adj.) of, resembling, or relating to twilight

— pairings: min yoongi x reader

— genre: smut, pwp, alpha!yoongi, omega!reader, extreme voyeurism, knotting

— est. word count: 10k+

— synopsis: the crepescular is a yearly held event, a chance to catch up with neighbouring pacts and most importantly meet your mate. only thing is, consummation for higher powers is a very public affair and your mate happens to be the highest of the highest; the werewolf king.

release date ⇢ tba | teaser | moodboard

↳ READ HERE

「❖」

; roué | m.

roué; (n.) a person devoted to a life of sensual pleasure

— pairings: kim namjoon x reader x min yoongi

— genres: smut, pwp, devil!namjoon, ex-boyfriend!namjoon, infidelity, threesome

— est. word count: 15k+

— synopsis: your ex (satan) has had enough of watching you galavant around with your new boy toy. so he’s back in town to prove he can offer more than than the puny human you’re foolishly engaged to. or, don’t waste your time on a man that won’t fill that pretty asshole with cum.

release date ⇢ tba | teaser | moodboard

↳ READ HERE

「❖」

; phantasmagoric | m.

phantasmagoric; (adj.) having the appearance of an optical illusion, especially one produced by a magic lantern

— pairings: kim seokjin x reader

— genres: smut, angst, afterlife, angsty smut

— est. word count: 20k+

— synopsis: the collision should have killed you, it was fast and hard enough to have you dead at the site. yet somehow, you find yourself in limbo, reuniting with your dead boyfriend. and you’re given the once in a life time chance to bring him back to life. only, you have no idea how to do that.

release date ⇢ tba | teaser | moodboard

↳ READ HERE

「❖」

; a syzygy | m.

syzygy; (n.) an alignment of three celestial objects, as the sun, the earth, and either the moon or a planet

— pairings: jung hoseok x reader

— genres: smut, historic, pirate!hoseok, humiliation, exhibitionism

— est. word count: 10k+

— synopsis: a 19th century pirate manages to spot you when the tides rock havoc and saves you from drowning in the middle of nowhere. but now it’s follow orders or be fed to the sharks. which would be fine if his orders didn’t include licking his dry cum from the deck floor.

release date ⇢ tba | teaser | moodboard

↳ READ HERE

「❖」

; orenda | m.

orenda; (n.) the spiritual power that people and animals inherit from their environment

— pairings: kim taehyung x reader

— genre: soft smut, angst, modern, magic, voyeurism

— est. word count: 25k+

— synopsis: it’s the year 2050 and some humans have harnessed the powers of eternal life for their selves. with high aspirations wanting to become one of the bred, you turn to the cold-hearted natural born for guidance. though he seems to be sabotaging you more than helping. now you have to find out, what is it about this that is such a burden to him?

release date ⇢ tba | teaser | moodboard

↳ READ HERE

all rights reserved ©️ minstrivia

#bangtan bookclub #btssmutclub #bangtanarmynet #masterlist #bts masterlist #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts preferences #jungkook smut #jimin smut #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #hoseok smut #taehyung smut #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #smut #bts x reader #ot7 #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #the bedtime cryptics

[sugaxjpg]

paradise 17; m

⤷  “Welcome to Paradise 17, the immersive virtual reality of your most private fantasies. Please, to begin your pleasurable experience, click ‘proceed’ and pick your partner.” 

✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | VirtualReality!AU

✓ Filed under: smut

✓ Look out for: dom!tae; overstimulation; praising; voyeurism; cock worship; spanking; vibrators... there’s also a mirror on the ceiling because science 

✓ Words: 15,217

Author’s Note: Do you ever feel a feeling that doesn’t exist? That was my entire experience writing this fic. Hope you guys like it, because I even made a gif-cover for it. 

The first time you heard about Immersive Virtual Reality, you thought that it could be the biggest breakthrough of the century. It was something straight out of a futuristic movie; an invention that even the most intelligent of programers could only aspire to achieve; or perhaps a trope that had been worn-out by repetitive anime remakes and hollywood producers. It was too good — too complex — to be true, and that was precisely why it worked so well.

There had been a huge fuss amongst online communities much longer before the devices hit the common sphere of customers. Forums whispered of a secret project of a big gaming company, supposedly a helmet that could induce a dream-like state, in which the individual was completely absorbed in an artificial, parallel world. Lo and behold: one of the most predominant tech names in the world — Idol —  came out with their almighty IMVIT helmet soon after, and the promise of an “overwhelming new experience” for gamers worldwide.

Of course, it didn’t take long for humans do what they do best: turn something innocent into porn. In less than a year after Idol’s IMVIT helmet had hit the markets, the so-called Paradise 17 — with its embarassing slogan: the future has come — was already one of the top five most sold platforms, rapidly climbing up towards the first position. From what you had gathered, it worked as a hotel-like interface, in which you could mold an insubstantial partner into your perfect sexual fantasy, and then be taken into a personalized room, where the magic would take place. There were supposedly a lot of steps involved, for the system wished to reach as close as possible to perfection, while making sure that the entire experience was both pleasurable and safe — words from its website, not your own.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t succumb into the temptation that the program offered, but, of course, those had been mere superficial rationalizations. You lasted precisely three months — quite a long time, if you were to be completely honest — before you purchased the simulation. To your defense, it was one hell of a deal: since they had been getting ready to launch a new version of it, you managed to get it for 75% off in a stock clearing. Besides, it was only a five minute wait for the download.

The future had, indeed, come.

“Simulation fully downloaded. Connect your IMVIT helmet to your computer.”

Obediently, you did as the program requested, and watched as your system gradually recognized the device. From an outsider’s perspective, you probably looked like a lunatic — completely wrapped up by the adumbration of your bedroom, with only the phantasmagoric light of your computer to illuminate your expectant features; the rapid movement of your fingers against the keyboard, and your eyes over the lines on the screen. To be fair, you didn’t feel much different, and your position only worsened as the connection was concluded.

Next to you, your helmet — you always thought it looked like a motorcyclist's apparatus — lit up in pallid shades of emerald and yellow. Your computer, asymmetrically, turned off for an instant, and the sound of the fans started vibrating within its structure. Once it illuminated again, you were greeted with the logo of Paradise 17 in beautiful, golden cursive letters.

“Welcome to Paradise 17, the immersive virtual reality of your most private fantasies.” Could be read underneath it — bright pink characters against an alabastrine background. Through your speakers, came a robotic female voice, which you quickly turned off. Even her automatic timbre sounded a bit judgemental, but perhaps you were just paranoid. “Please, to begin your pleasurable experience, click ‘proceed’ and pick your partner.”

You did as it said, and watched as the screen morphed into a completely different image. Unanticipatedly hesitant, you swallowed dry, feeling as expectancy started to burn like wildfire at the bottom of your stomach.

With cautious movements, you leaned in and started to read. A second later, your eyes were growing wide as you saw the endless selection of categories. The “partners”, as they were called, were separated in criteria that went from race and gender, and all the way to a five-page quiz about your kinks and sexual preferences, rating them from “not hot” to “super hot” in a very cringe-worthy scale.

The answering section of Paradise 17 had been overlooked by other users, and the internet forums had forgotten to comment on how long and obnoxiously detailed the inquiries could be. You scrolled through those quizzes and randomized sections for what appeared to be hours — when, it reality, it was probably around fifteen minutes — until, at last, you found yourself facing the final page. On the screen, it could be read: these are your three finalists, sorted by your answers and preferences. Please, think about your choice, for there will be no possibility to switch during the simulation.

That page was much cleaner than the previous ones, and presented exactly what it had promised: on it, three pastel-colored pictures and, underneath each one, the specifics about the guy, and how he would behave in the simulation — from a quick look, you could see that they had all been classified under “strictly dominant” in bold crimson letters, which had been one of the first choices you had to make. With a subdued hum of interest, you stared at the options, and started to read what they had to offer.

Firstly, Seokjin. The primordial thought that crossed your mind once you met his picture was that they must have based it off a real life model, because there was no way that a computer program could come up with that level of handsomeness by its own devices. Just like the other two photographies, the image was quite simple — against a anemic blue background, he stood, disheveled black hair and semi-parted lips, his mouth vaguely stained by a shade of pink. Under his picture, it claimed that he was especially fond of voyeurism and bondage. Interesting — but the second wasn’t really your cup of tea.

Then, Taehyung. One thing that made him stand out had been the shirt he was wearing — black as midnight, while the others used white ones. The choice of wardrobe contrasted against the clear strands of his blonde hair, which fell down his face like golden cascades; mingling harmoniously with the lackluster blush that dwelled upon his cheeks. Under, his interests listed spanking and overstimulation. That was something you could deal with. Gladly.

At last, Jimin. His features were somewhat softer than the other options, but his gaze was even more piercing, sending electrical charges through your veins the second that you met the profoundness of his irises. You could not tell how a computer-generated man could look so good, but, then again, that was the kind of awe-inspiring perfection you would face in that simulation, so you should probably prepare yourself for it. It said that he was a fan of praising and cock worship. Which was nice… very nice.

Still, there was a decision to be made, and three fantastic options standing right before you — so, you did what you had to do, and went straight for the superficial desires of the flesh prison that you called a body. You would never admit that to anyone else, but the only element that pushed you towards a choice had been the... size difference. If your simulated body was going to have some fun, you might as well go out out.

With another deep, tremulous breath, you selected your partner.

How should TAEHYUNG call you? We advise not to use real names, or share any sort of personal information.  

Several fake names crossed your mind, but none of them seemed to be a good pick for the circumstances presented to you. Your eyes trailed off onto the details of your room, attempting to find some sort of inspiration amongst scattered books and random objects, but all that came to you were overly-complex character names, or simply ones that you didn’t feel like would be suited for that pornographic scenario — Cordelia, Constance, Galadriel, Ophelia… Elizabeth Bennet? You didn’t even like Pride and Prejudice. You should pick some new books for a change, that was getting ridiculous.

At last, your gaze paused on a vase at the corner of your cubicle. Many weeks prior to your impulsive decision to purchase Paradise 17, one of your friends had gifted you with a rose for your birthday — before such a burning shade of scarlet, now a despondent tinge of purple, withered and dried up, barely standing in a vase of yellowed water. Gross. It was not in the best condition but, hey, your mental state wasn’t much better. It would have to serve.

Eager to get those steps done with, your fingers quickly typed “Rose”, and clicked to the next page before you could second guess your resolution. It wasn’t as if it was a life or death situation — you were about to have simulated sex, for fuck’s sake, not receive a nobel prize. Your name didn’t really matter.

Finally, pick your context. Paradise 17 is a sexual roleplaying simulator, please play your part accordingly. The storylines compatible with TAEHYUNG ar—

Now, that was a decision you did not expect to face. In an instant of startlement, you ran through your thoughts in a failed attempt to recall anything about that part of the program, but you could not remember anyone in the forums mentioning that Paradise 17 was about roleplaying — but, then again, you did select that kink before, so maybe that was it.

You ended up going for a simple one: you had just come back from a long time away, and Taehyung had booked a hotel room for the two of you. You didn’t believe you’d be capable of roleplaying anything much more complex than that — like the sugar daddy or teacher/student dynamics that the platform had suggested — especially when you were already so nervous about it. It was your first time trying it out, after all, you might want to ease your way in. Kind of.

Anticipation controlled your movements as you clicked for the next step, only to be met with a warning. The letters were white against a black background, quite a striking view when compared to the page’s clear and minimalistic style, and also with everything you had been presented so far.

Curious, you started reading: “Warning: Your session in Paradise 17 will go on for as long as you, the user, decides. Please be aware that prolonged exposure to Immersive Virtual Reality is not advised, and should not exceed five hours at a time. Do you wish to set a time limit, or decide later when to cease the simulation? The program will warn you half an hour before you reach the advised period of immersion.”

You hummed in an instant of thought, then clicked your preference. Decide later.

“Please enter your safe word. When spoken, the simulation will cease, and your progress will be saved. We advise you to use a word that would not come up normally during this context.”

Cinnamon. You had no idea why it had been the first one to reach your senses, but it would have to do the job for now — hell, you were winging it so far, there was not much that you had to lose.

“Your safe word is: CINNAMON. Confirm?”

Yes.

“Please, ROSE, review your data before we begin. Thank you for choosing Paradise 17, and we hope you enjoy your experience.”

With a tranquil suspire, you did as the program requested, and looked the list of your preferences. Besides your name, your safe word, and your partner’s data, you received the kinks that had resulted from your long session of quiz-answering — besides a dominating companion, you apparently enjoyed overstimulation, praising, voyeurism, cock worship, spanking and, as the cherry on top, vibrators. That was quite something, and you could tell you were in for a treat.

You chuckled, impressed at the agglomeration of kinks; some of which you had never even considered in depth before. “Seems about right,” you mumbled to yourself, then clicked the next page. Suddenly, you were looking forward to that “overwhelming new experience” a lot more.

“Check-in successfully finished. You may now place your IMVIT helmet.”

Oh. It was done.

Anxiety hit you like a punch in the gut, but you forced yourself to keep your movements under a clear veil of control. Like you did for other simulations, you picked up your IMVIT device, making sure that the long cable that connected it to the computer would not get stuck anywhere, and walked towards your bed. You made yourself comfortable, placing your back against the headboard, and took a look around to see if there were any objects to take care of — it wasn’t common, but sometimes users would report some muscular action in real life, and the last thing you needed was to slap a lamp mid virtual intercourse. When every particularity was revised, you moved your hair behind your ears, and placed the helmet on your head. Your vision went immediately dark, and your fingers promptly started searching for the button on the right side of the large equipment. Once you found it, you pressed it, and the small screen before your eyes turned on. The brightness induced you to blink a few times, making the clear cyan letters almost impossible to read at first.

Initiating program. You will feel a numbness in your limbs as you get into the simulation. Do not turn off your IMVIT helmet during the immersion phasis.  

You inhaled profoundly, trying to calm down your nerves. Progressively, you started to be deprived of sensation through your body, almost as if you were starting to fall asleep — starting from your toes, and then working its way up.

The pixelated screen withered into obscurity, and the sound was activated. First, there was only static, then the auditory commands begun to resound inside your head.

“Welcome to Paradise 17,” the previous robotic voice echoed all around you, sending waves of excitability through your figure — or, at least, what hadn’t been numbed by the system. You knew these steps were necessary to fully submerge you in the simulation, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they were a bit more creepy then they should be. Morbid, almost. “You will be taken to your room shortly. Please, enjoy your stay.”

Your eyelids were heavy and, even against your best attempts, they closed. Sensation only lingered in the line above your neck, and it was rapidly diminishing, morphing into a vague trembling against your skin before, at last, disappearing completely. You always compared that part of the process to a bathtub full of anesthesia, in which you gradually slipped down into — submerging your abdomen, shoulders, jaw; and then all the way to the top of your head.

For the last time, you heard the rhythm of your breathing, and then there was only silence. The next inhale you took was already inside the program.

Abruptly, your eyes opened, and you found yourself inside the wonders of Paradise 17. The brusque change of atmosphere was always the most intimidating part of the process — in the breviloquent space between two heartbeats, you went from feeling nothing to absolutely everything. The sensation of your body was as realistic as ever and, if it wasn’t for the change of wardrobe, you could have claimed that you were still out of the virtual world.

Looking down, you noticed you had been wearing a silk robe — nothing beyond a thin, translucent veil of crimson — and, underneath it, a pair of lingerie that probably would’ve coasted your entire salary to acquire in real life. With a quick running of your hands through your hair, you noticed that the makeover had been complete, and you could only guess that your simulated self was also wearing a full-face of makeup. You knew that the system would go the extra mile to make you feel sexier than usual, but that just felt a bit weird to experience, if you were going to be frank.

Then again, it was probably your anxiety speaking.

You had been transported to a long, dimly-lit hallway. The forums were right about something: it felt like every hotel you had ever been to, and that only made the experience much more engaging. From the ugly carpet beneath your feet to the way that the corridor seemed to go on forever, bleeding into the darkness of the night; to the numerous doors that stood shut on either side of the walls — all of them the same: painted in an ivory shade, with beautifully-crafted golden handles — you found yourself in a flawless replication of reality.

The only passage that was accessible to you had been the one in front of your flabbergasted silhouette. From the parted door came a blast of the most profound tinge of magenta you had ever seen, casting its hypnotic, triangle-shaped glow all over the floor; and bathing your flesh with its phosphorescence. You could hear vague shuffles beyond it, and the distant sound of music and cars, many meters beyond your floor. Other than that, absolute silence.

From the other end of the hall, came the exclamation of a bell, signaling that the elevator — that you had barely noticed before — had arrived at your floor. Its golden lambency sliced through the thickness of the stygian atmosphere, and a person entered the hallway with hurried footsteps. Instead of what you expected, the stranger that came from it wasn’t your partner, but a short, middle-aged woman.

In the midst of the corredor’s shadows, you could see that she was wearing a maid’s outfit, and didn’t seem very thrilled about it. She walked hastily towards you, expression neutral — which, for her, made her seem as if she was pissed off at something. Not that you could judge: you, too, suffered from Resting Bitchface Syndrome.

Her voice was high-pitched as slightly nasaled as she spoke out. “Rose?” she asked as she stopped a few meters away from where you stood, placing her hands behind her back. Thin, rectangular-shaped glasses slid from the bridge of her nose, and her image seemed to be the most off-putting fragment of that world.

You didn’t know if she was part of the simulation, or if she was an administrator logged in the system. Either there was a woman like that laying in a dark room and guiding people through their off-putting sexual fantasies, or the programmers had willingly coded that character into a bitter person. Frankly, both options were equally bizarre, and you chose not to dive deeper into that inner debate.

Also, the fact that you were in full-lingerie in the middle of a dark hallway didn’t make you feel any more at ease. “Yes, that’s— That’s me,” you responded, a bit startled. The fake name sounded so off-putting coming from her lips, and you hoped that it would not be constantly used during the simulation.

“At your service.” She nodded. Her movements seemed a bit too unnatural for your taste, so perhaps she wasn’t a real person. You didn’t really want to find out. “Welcome to Paradise 17. Is this your first time using the server?”

“Yes,” you replied, expectant.

Once again, she agreed with a movement of her head. “Understood.” She signaled towards the half-open door. “This is your room, as you might have guessed. Remember: this is a roleplaying simulator, so play your part accordingly. Do you have your safe word in mind?”

Her speech caught you a bit off guard, but you managed to answer rather expeditiously. “Yes, I remember it.”

“Understood,” she repeated, then took a step behind. The purple light did her no good: it only made her eyes seem even more sulken, thin lips being pierced together in an instant of thought. “Your chosen partner, Taehyung, is ready and waiting for you,” she continued, “and you may start whenever you deem comfortable, simply open the door and the simulation will resume. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” you spoke, those two words feeling heavy against your tongue. Not that you had the time to add anything else.

As quickly as the mysterious maid appeared, she vanished into the twilight of the corridor, walking rapidly toward the elevator’s open doors. You stood there, somewhat stupefied at the odd interaction, and watched as the metallic cubicle closed with a low purring of its motor, then moved up to the following floor.

Well, that was... unexpected. Surely not something you wished to think about for any longer than necessary.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the confused thoughts that surrounded your mind, and reached out for the golden handle. The metal was cool beneath your touch, and you had to recognize the perfection that the simulation provided — according to some programmers, the physical sensation of objects was the harder one to evoke, but Paradise 17 seemed to have no issue in regards to that. Which was good, because, honestly, the experiences of the flesh were the majority of its offers.

In a brusque decision, you made the call that you would not allow for your performance anxiety to get the best of your actions — it was just a simulation, and you had nothing to worry about. Paradise 17 was just another parallel universe, and Taehyung was just another pre-programmed character. You were there to have fun, and not have an existential crisis. You’d be okay. You’d live.

You hoped.

So, with that in mind, you opened the door.

Your room was both what you had expected — based on the few preview pictures on the Paradise 17 website — and a bit more. It was by no means ostentatious, but it had enough details that it would feel much fancier than it was; certainly something you would not be able to afford in real life.

In the very centre of it, stood a large, round, king-sized bed and; by each side, white nightstands held the weight of frail lights. Crepuscular silk sheets enveloped the mattress, bathed by the vague lambency of neon; and you could sense the vague aroma of something sweet dancing in the atmosphere.

Nevertheless, those were not the important aspects of that space. You did not care for the deep purple curtains that ornamented the walls, nor for the mirror by your side that made you catch a glimpse of your own barely-covered figure. Your attention had been funneled to the large window that practically covered the wall opposite from where you stood — and the man that looked at the city below.

Behind his figure, the prismatic city lights scintillated like a million constellations. There was a thin line of turquoise phosphorescence that delineated his body, but, other than that, he was pure shadow — a black hole amidst a vivacious galaxy. Many meters beneath your secluded room, the muffled symphony of cars and effervescent conversations attempted to reach for your senses, but barely made through the silence that bloomed within that structure. It was far too perfect to be real and, yet, it immersed you so fully that you forgot, even for an instant, that you were inside an manmade world.

With the pushing of your fingertips, the door closed behind you. The man — Taehyung — appeared to get startled at the clicking noise, for his head quickly snapped away from the image of the kaleidoscopic city, and towards you. Taehyung had his hands deep in the pockets of his cream-colored suit once he turned around, his eyebrows slightly elevated in a muted inquisition, barely visible past the cascades of his soft hair strands. Once you saw his face, you could swear your heart forgot how to beat for an instant — he was absolutely handsome, ethereal almost, and his picture did him no justice.

Nervousness forgotten, you allowed for a dim smile to germinate upon your lips. “Hey,” you almost whispered, voice a lot softer than your usual timbre. You felt a bit stupid saying that, but it wasn’t as if you had a long line of groundbreaking introductions to choose from.

Taehyung’s eyes were wide in a mixture of surprise and nostalgia. “Rose,” he called your fake name with so much fluidity that you wished you could change it to your real one. The system had forgotten to notify you that the man had just enchantingly deep timbre, and that could be a problem — you would not respond for your own actions. “You showed up.”

You nodded, pushing your legs to move in his direction. The atmosphere felt thick, your lungs were barely able to suck the dense air in. “I did, Taehyung.”

The man suspired. “You look beautiful, my love,” he spoke underneath his breath, eyes glued to the movements of your figure. Against the blazing, yet scarce, lights of your room, his blonde strands of hair had decayed into a shade of pallid pink, and you loved it even more. Taehyung looked angelic, in the most demonic of ways. “I didn’t think you’d find me here.” He paused. “I didn’t think you wanted to.”

Dry — your throat felt so damn dry. If you could, you would skip that roleplaying part and jump straight to the action; especially now that you had seen him in “flesh”, and all the eroticism that encompassed his figure had completely asphyxiated you. Next time, you made a mental note to not go for any sort of roleplaying. “I did. I wanted — I want — it,” you responded slowly, walking in his direction. Your thoughts were disorganized, anarchic. “I... want you.”

Talk about being direct. Well, you had never been the most subtle person ever, anyways. It’s not as if you should get self-conscious about a simulation judging your eagerness to get inside his pants.

Taehyung smirked, pleased by your reaction. There was no way that man had been generated by a computer: he was so alluring that you could swear you had seen him somewhere before — perhaps in a renaissance painting, where diaphanous brushstrokes could ever so precisely construct the symmetry of features and actions. “I know that,” he verbalized — and of course he would be cocky too, because that was the essential ingredient when it came to cooking the Ruin-You recipe. “This is all for me, isn’t it?”

And of course, he was talking about your clothing — or lack thereof. “Yes,” you agreed. With a final step, you found yourself standing right before him — so close that, at every new inhale, you thought your chest would hit his. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, and felt as he placed his own on your hips. His skin was warm and, against yours, it felt like it was burning, setting your soul aflame. “All for you, Taehyung,” you repeated.  

Taehyung seemed to take a moment to dwell in your words, caliginous eyes continuously flickering downwards, attempting to catch glimpses of your body; explore the valley between your breasts. “Well, as much as you know I adore to see you like this...” he started, voice barely above a suspire. Beneath the fabric of his suit, you could feel his defined muscles moving as he massaged your body; squeezing your ass lightly. “I prefer when you’re wearing nothing.”

You looked up, meeting his tenebrous irises — vortexes of greed and lust, sucking you into a world you could not comprehend. As the words left you mouth, they did not feel like your own. “We can change that,” you proposed.

He hesitated. Just as you thought that Taehyung would respond, with his reddish lips opening to form a silent syllable, the darkness of his gaze deepened into a level that you could not fully grasp. The man’s eyelashes quivered lightly as his eyes met the delineation of your lips, and there they stayed. He leaned in.

Taehyung’s answer, instead, came in the form of a passionate kiss, and a subdued groan against your mouth.

His large hands departed from your lower body and, subsequently, cupped your cheeks as his lips parted in a warm welcome, a soft sigh coming from his throat once he felt your immediate reciprocation. Air was stuck inside your lungs as Taehyung kissed you with all he had, tasting the nectar of your lips, succumbing into you. His kiss passed a clear, palpable message: I want to have you all for myself. And I don’t want excuses.

And, fuck, you wanted him too.

That was why you didn’t stop him when his hands started trailing towards your clavicles, just to hook around the hem of your robe and pull it down your shoulders — a second later, it was merely a pool of translucent silk around your ankles. The fresh air embraced your figure then, and you could fully feel the asperous sensation of the man’s suit against your body.

Annoyed at the abundance of fabric in between you, you were quick to move your fingers to take off his own clothing. In due time, his suit jacket was already accompanying your robe on the hardwood floor, and your hands were using his blood-red tie to pull him closer to you, silently begging for more.

You knew that the hotel room was fake, but your experiences were very, very real. There was no way to mask the excitement that had taken over your limbs, nor the lewd expectation that had started to accumulate at the bottom of your abdomen. Taehyung knew exactly how to kiss you — he knew which pacing to follow, when to caress your tongue with his own; when to depart from your lips so he could meet the luscious skin of your exposed neck. He had been, quite literally, handmade for you, and you adored every second of it.

The man departed from your mouth, and navigated his lips towards your cheek, kissing the spot with unbearable softness. Taehyung suspired frequently, drowning in his own reverence at your form, as he trailed a path down your neck; biting as sucking your flesh in-between the wet touches of his mouth. “Love,” he called, his hoarse voice sending vibrations through your body, “Let’s be patient, we have the entire night for ourselves.”

Your only response had been a sigh, for you were aware that you could not speak anything else, even less play your part well. Many years before, you had been removed from the theater club for a reason — you could not act to save your life. And, frankly, you were in no position to do so.

As you would soon understand, though, Taehyung was everything but patient.

Sooner than you would admit, his dahlia-colored tie was on the ground, and your hands were fumbling to open the buttons of his white cotton shirt. Taehyung wasted no time either — his slender fingers were quick to undo the clasp of your bra, and throw it somewhere else as they moved to cup your breasts, to press them together. You whined at the contact, feeling as your arousal begun to present itself between your thighs.

In an unexpected action, Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your body closer to his, grunting in delight as soon as your nude chest met his own, and the hardness of his cock was felt at the bottom of your abdomen; poking against the light fabric of your underwear. The mere sensation was enough to make you sigh, your hands trailing downwards to meet the hem of his trousers in a blind search for his member.

The tingle of his kiss still lingered on your lips when his mouth, once again, came crashing down against yours; taking your breath away and making your legs weaken at the brusque, hunger-filled contact. That kiss was dramatically different, for his movements had turned much harsher, filled with impatience and lasciviousness. You couldn’t say that you disliked it —  in fact, you probably liked it a bit more than you should.

The separation of your mouths pushed a frustrated exclamation out of your throat. With firm hands, Taehyung guided you downwards, sitting you on the edge of the spacious bed — your hips bounced as you met the velvety mattress; your eyes darting up to look at him once again.

Whatever complaint that you had started to construct within your mind came crumbling down once you met his expression. The picture the program had presented could never do any justice to the ethereal beauty that stood before you; the redness of his tongue as it came out to wet his plump lips, the thickness of his eyelashes as he lethargically blinked, taking in the desire of your form. His white shirt had been opened halfway through, and you instantly met the outline of his muscles through the thin fabric; his golden-kissed skin shining alongside the colorful phosphorescence of the room.

Taehyung could have been just a product of your digitally-enhanced imagination for all you cared, but, then and there, he was made of flesh and blood; wrapped around the purest curtain of ravenousness. Furthermore, with the new angle, so came the image of his own throbbing member, now much closer to you.

Your eyes fell to his erection, mouth watering— he was already hard, as you had felt aforetime, and the outline of his cock pressed strongly against his pants. As ephemeral as that instant of amazement was, it showed you just how wise you had been to base your decision on the size difference.

Ephemeral because, as you soon noticed, Taehyung seemed to have the same focus as you did, and was quick to cover your view. Before you could even construct a basic thought about what was given to you, the man cupped himself over his clear pants, groaning once he experienced the sensation his hand provided. “You’re making me so horny, baby,” he moaned out, biting down on his lower lip. “I can barely hold myself back.”

With exhausted limbs and parted eyes, you stared up as he started to stroke himself over his cream-colored trousers, hissing at his own neediness. The image was so erotic that you swore you could faint at the spot — luckily, though, your simulated version had a bit more endurance than that. “Then don’t,” you vocalized, your own tone muffled by your concupiscence.

Your actions — from the movement of your fingers to the words that left you — felt alien to you. Not because the simulation was bad, god knows it was amazing, but because you felt as if you had reached for a level of freedom that real life could never give you. Perhaps that was why Paradise 17 was so popular: besides your fantasies, it was also permeated with the possibility of acting out without fear of social consequences. You had full control of the scene, and it molded itself to fit your wishes. It was far too tempting for you to overlook it.

Regardless, those philosophical meditations could wait. There were far more important elements taking shape before you.

Taehyung’s nostrils flared up as his digits started to tease his crown through the fabric, permitting a ponderous exhale to depart from his chest — the sensation was numbed and, yet, it made his eyelids grow heavy as he stared down at your form. “I don’t plan to,” he spoke in a hushed tone, appearing as if he had utilized every ounce of his self-control to do so. “Want to feel it? How hard I am for you?”

The aching between your legs was getting intolerable, at it filled your mind with hazy clouds of craving. As your stare oscillated down to his pants — where you could notice a small wet spot of pre-cum starting to accumulate amongst the material — you swore all the remnants of your apprehension had left you behind. “Yes.” You swallowed dry, sitting up straight. You were out of your senses, but not enough to disregard such tempting proposal, especially when his velvety tone felt so deliciously inviting.

You had to battle against a moan that started to form at the tip of your tongue when your fingers met the textile of his pants — and, right underneath it, the hardness of his cock. Delicately, you started to stroke its sides, feeling as his member twitched in your hands; then the wetness of his pre-cum when you dared to tease his slit. From miles underneath the sea, you heard Taehyung’s breath being caught in his throat, his abs clenching as he drowned in your feather-like movements. “Can I cum in your pretty mouth, baby?” he asked, rather suddenly. You heart almost jumped out of your chest. “Do you want to suck me off?”

“Yes,” you responded just as rapidly. Once again, the proposal was too good to be neglected. “I do.”

Above you, the sound of Taehyung’s chuckle reverberated throughout the consolidated air. He seemed to find some sort of diversion amongst your dissimulated distress, the eagerness you tried to mask as you fumbled to open his buttons. “You love my cock, don’t you?” his voice was dangerously deeper as he asked, clearly amused. And there it was: your first of many kink choices for the night. Cock worship. You could do that. “You can tell me, love, you know how much I like to hear it.”

However, your response did not come so fast. With measured movements, you slided his trousers —  and boxers —  down his legs, your arousal only increasing as his erection was freed from its confinements. Slightly flabbergasted at the perfection of his form, you observed attentively every particularity that surrounded Taehyung: the shaky breath that left him as his member touched the cool air of the room, already soaked by its own nectar; the flinching of his limbs as you dared to move closer to him, magnetized by the frail neon aura that bathed his flesh. It was a heavenly picture, to say the least, and it was yours to have a taste of.

Still, you reminded yourself that he needed an answer, and your inner conflicts would have to be put on hold, at least for the time being. “Yes, I do…” You trailed off, placing one of your hands around his base. It felt so heavy against your palm, so thick. You bit back a moan once you thought about how good his cock would feel inside you, how amazingly it could fill you up. God bless impromptu decisions, and god bless the cravings of the flesh. “I love it so much.”

Nonchalantly, you tilted your head closer to his center, and your tongue met his crown, flat, then started to draw circular movements against his reddened skin; teasing his opening just enough to earn a muffled cry for more. As you would soon learn, Taehyung was sensitive to even the most timid of caresses, and even his dominating aura could not disguise the need that overruled his mind.

You felt as his fingers intertwined with the strands of your hair, pushing at the top of your head, wordlessly imploring for more. Above you, the boy grunted and cursed, closing his eyes to savor that moment the best he could. “That’s it, baby,” Taehyung eagerly praised, almost as if talking to himself. “Just take it all.”

He didn’t have to ask twice, for every other option was outrageous to even consider.

With a sigh, you placed your lips, rather tenderly, around the head of his cock, and suckled lightly, barely teasing him. You leaned back enough so you could speak, your breath hitting his member in thin clouds of heat. “You’re so hard,” you spoke, angling your head slightly to the right. You licked your path from his base to his top, and heard as a dragged-out grunt broke just behind his clenched teeth. Even the salty taste of his precum felt awfully realistic, you though in a moment of surprise; the texture of his swollen skin was perfect. “So big, Taehyung.”

“All yours, love.” He exhaled. As much as his timbre was somewhat controlled, his actions were not, and the roughness of which he held to your hair only presented his hunger further. “I’m so close already, just looking you is enough to make me cum.”  

Now, there were some things that you didn’t precisely think about, but that would appear in the midst of your thoughts regardless. At that instant, the mental depiction of Taehyung coming all over your lips, untouched and trembling at his own release, hit you like a tidal wave, washing away all traces of logic that still lingered inside you. You could see it, in a way, hanging like a sword over his head, reflecting at the bottom of his parted eyes — the man was reaching closer to the edges of his self-control and, between your fingers, his member was painfully enlarged, begging to be caressed.

And that was all you needed to stop teasing him. Go figure, you weren’t that patient either.

Taehyung’s body jolted forward when your mouth wrapped around his cock, and you pushed yourself closer to it, sinking it inside your mouth. He, too, lost the ability to hold back his actions, for the hand that held to your hair closed around your strands with even more force, marking the rhythm of your movements, fighting to pull your head closer to his hips. You hummed at how good it felt, regardless of the sudden rush of pain. You loved it rough, and that had been precisely what you had went for.

“Oh, that’s it. You feel so fucking good,” he cried out in an astounding instant of adoration, every small movement of your tongue against his member made him buckle his lower body towards you; a groan bubbling on his throat. “Take me deeper, baby,” he pleaded.

Obedient, you leaned your body forwards, causing for his cock to hit even deeper inside your mouth. Progressively, you relaxed your throat so you could take even more of his large member in, and grew surprised at how easy it was — apparently your simulated self had no notion of a gag reflex, and that could be used in your favor. All hail the horny programmers that had made that moment possible.

You hummed around his member, taking him whole — or, as much as you could, while your other hand worked massaging his base. Even if it was slightly bothersome the way it ached the back of your throat, you could ignore it; instead focusing on the way his voice resounded around the room; moans and cries echoing around you as he thrusted inside your mouth, delighting in the amazing way you felt around him; chest rising and falling in heavy pants. “Fuck yeah,” Taehyung sobbed, thrusting his hips against your mouth in pure jubilation. “Just like th— shit, your mouth feels so fucking amazing—”

There had been failed attempts to find some sort of relief by slightly thrusting your center against the silky bed sheets, but that was clearly not even close to being sufficient, and it only served to make you even hornier, teasing your clit lightly. You had guessed that such part of the simulation wouldn’t last for long, since your pleasure was the main one to be taken into consideration by the program, and you had completely soaked your underwear by the point that Taehyung’s words were completely lost amongst a tide of broken moans.

Much to your delight, you were correct.

“I'm gonna cum, baby,” Taehyung warned, his member throbbing and twitching between your lips. His every action was a silent bargain for more of your mouth — to take him deeper, faster, to allow him to fuck himself against your soft tongue as you sucked him. Since you weren’t a fan of prolonging his — and by consequence, your — suffering, you did as he expected, and the reaction was instantaneous. “Oh, fuck—”

With a last, breathless whimper, he released inside your mouth; fingers grasping to your hair as you moaned around him, allowing for him to fill you with his cum. Only then, when his amazingly deep voice cried out the shattered syllables of your (fake) name and his thighs begun to tremble underneath the weight of his satisfaction, did you fully notice that you could move away from his cock, for he was already flinching with overstimulation.

After you had swallowed his release, you looked up at him. A dim, fucked-out smirk decorated his lips as his eyes found your own, presenting you with the felicity that had took over him.

Taehyung was still inhaling heavily as he took his thumb to clean one of the corners of your mouth, unhurriedly guiding it to part your red-bitten lips. “You look so pretty like this…” he praised, watching as you sucked on his thumb, swallowing the remnants of his cum. He sighed. “Love, you’re driving me crazy. Lay down for me, let me take care of you.”

You swore you almost cried out in relief as he said so, mind completely focused on the wetness that had pooled in-between your legs. Regardless, your only form of agreement was a long, drawn-out sigh as you moved away from his figure and did as he ever so pleasantly requested.

With fluid movements that did not show your overwhelming craving for his touches, you leaned your torso back, and threw yourself on the mattress, amongst the mountains of the silk sheets, and slightly pushed your body towards the center of the circular bed. As you did so, however, your eyes promptly met… you own.

God have mercy, of course there would be a mirror on the ceiling.

There was a short-lived moment of surprise as you followed the cascade of your hair on the mirror, irradiating around your head; the iridescent lights that contoured your exposed breasts; and the red marks that delineated your mouth. The person on the mirror looked both like yourself and a different version of if, barely a lost phantasm living amongst the shadows of that hotel. It was a paradoxical position: it felt like an hallucination, and yet a vivid part of reality.

Before you could ruminate on that piece of information any further, though, another figure came into focus on the reflection. Taehyung had taken off his last piece of clothing — his shirt — and had kneeled before you, fingertips landing on your thighs and pushing your legs apart. “Keep’em open for me, baby,” he whispered, overtaken by devotion. His voice was husky, enthralling. “Let me see what you’re giving me tonight.”

Your eyes darted away from the mirror, and towards him. “Taehyung,” you called out, shame long forgotten. The flame of carnality that burned at the bottom of your abdomen was overbearing, scorching your skin and turning your contemplations into ashes. There was nothing else that you needed but to feel him. “Please, just hurry.”

He placed his hands on either side of your head, finding support on the malleable fabric, and placing himself between your legs. Taehyung’s figure blocked out the obfuscus luminescence that came from the outside world, and the heat of his skin managed to be overwhelming, as bright as the lambency that shone within his gaze.

Against your expectations, though, the man didn’t laugh at the vocalization of your painful needs. Instead, Taehyung steadily lowered his body to your level, placed a prolonged kiss on your lips, and then moved down to your collarbones, his tongue writing poetry against your skin. He maintained his sluggish path as his large hands caressed your tits, pressing them together and grunting as he felt your nipples hardening underneath his touch.

“Taehyung,” you called out his name like it was a prayer — it was no time to tease you like that. “I want more.”

He hummed and departed from your bosom, kissing and licking down your stomach, your waist, your hips. Pushing your legs apart — which had once again closed in a natural defense against his erotic touches — Taehyung trailed up the invisible course on the inner part of your thigh, moving nearer to where you needed him the most. His lips were soft as feathers, warm as the flames of hell, and his tongue marked ancient spells on your skin.

God, you were doomed.

“Ah, love, you're dripping for me,” the boy complimented in awe, moving his palms towards your oversensitive center. With lustful appetite scintillating behind his eyes, Taehyung took two of his fingers back to your folds; but, instead of entering you, they simply dwelled at your wetness, earning a low groan from him as he pushed them apart.

The heath of his mouth met the cotton of your underwear, his lips circling your covered clit just right. He wanted to tease you further, but he knew you were in no position to endure it. “I just want to have a taste of you, love…” Taehyung trailed off, two of his slender fingers curling around the hem of your panties, pulling them down with umberable patience. The brush of his skin against yours was gentle, but enough to have a sigh leave your mouth — his voice was something you just fucking loved to hear, sweet as honey and deep as the libido the bloomed within your chest. “Fuck, look at you…”

Licking his plump lips in expectation, the boy stared in hidden fascination as he uncovered your soaked center, presenting him with a luscious view of your dripping sex. With a reverberating, satisfied groan, Taehyung placed one of his fingers on your entrance, playing with your wetness, barely teasing his way in. “You're all ready for me, babe,” he praised in a suspire, lowering his head to take a closer look at you. When he spoke, his hot breath hit the skin of your inner thighs. “God, you'll make me go crazy. I can't wait to make you cum around my cock.”

Your pulse quickened at the idea, causing for you to raise your hips against the motions of his expert digits. Through your parted lids, your gaze met his cock — already hard and throbbing against his abdomen, ready for another round. In real life, that would have taken a bit longer than a couple minutes, but, then again, Paradise 17 knew what it was doing.  

Taehyung hummed once again, content with your physical response — the whines that broke upon your tongue, and the trembling breaths that got trapped in your fast-beating chest. His nose brushed its path along your thigh, moving dangerously close to your heat, while his fingers moved to rub your clit at a slow pace, coating it with your own moisture. “Will you be a good girl for me?” Taehyung questioned in a mumble — God, that voice was going to be the end of you. “Will you do what I ask you to?”  

“Yeah…” you agreed in a whimper, respiration getting heavier by each torturous second. It was awfully annoying the way he grew confident at your distress — Taehyung’s gaze was one of pure cockiness, making you clench your teeth as you attempted to get more friction from his touches; the ghost of his plump lips against your sensitive skin. “Yes, just let me…oh fuck—”

Before you could even prepare yourself for it, Taehyung had moved his hand down, and entered one finger inside you, delighting in the way you clenched around him. “Just let you what?” the boy provoked, raising his head away from your heat, watching as your fingers dug to the sheets by your side. It was no fantastic discovery the fact that Taehyung had deliciously long fingers, but, once he added the second one, you were already starting to lose the terminal remnants of your self-control. “I couldn’t hear you, baby.”

Outside the concupiscent walls of Paradise 17, you would have never seen yourself as much of a submissive person, but Taehyung managed to turn that around rather quickly. And, as his movements grew more frantic, you lost yourself. “Taehyung, please,” you cried out, closing your eyes in absolute bliss. You could feel yourself getting lighter as your orgasm approached, chest rising and falling as you seeked your release. “Please, let me cum.”

Taehyung inhaled sharply at the inflections of your needy speech, groaning once he felt the throbbing of his own hard member against the bed. Around his fingers, you clenched and released, signaling that you weren’t far from your high. “Good girl,” he praised, repositioning himself to get closer to you.

In an action that was a bit too mercurial for your foggy mind to follow, his mouth was working on your clit with an unprecedented hunger, fingers completely sinking inside you. Taehyung grunted as he sucked on your sensitive spot, feeling as your walls tightened around his fingers, your juices soaking the path down his digits, and onto his hand. Hard and heavy, his cock twitched and rubbed against the bed every time you whined out his name, at every new, needy moan that dares to reverberate past your tongue.

When moved back, you could sense his shallow breaths reaching for your clit in small puffs of air. “Will you cum on my tongue? You know I love how you taste.” His charges got a bit faster, reaching deep inside you. Every once in a while, he would part his fingers ever so slightly, which you were sure it was a way to prepare you for his big member.

You could not be in the best state of mind then, but you could remember perfectly how thick he was as he was pressed against you, or as he filled your mouth, and the recalling was more than sufficient to push an answer out of your arid throat.

“Yes, yes, please,” you struggled to speak out, the right words flying away from your grasp. Your mind was already getting overwhelmed by the constant stimulation, the eminent arrival of your release turning your thoughts into absolute pandemonium — something that only worsened once you felt his tongue flat against your clit, losing no time in massaging it in gradual, deliciously circular motions. “Oh my god,” you gasped, hands flying to grip his soft strands of hair.

His digits curved upwards, hitting your sweet spot with no effort. You threw your head back, feeling as your pleasure expanded by the second, “Taehyung,” you called out in a whimper, rolling your hips against his hand. Weak, your knees felt like they were made of jello as he continued his movements, using his fingers to open your entrance wider, hitting you deeper. You were hanging just over the edge, and one last push was all you needed. “Right there, fuck. I’m going to—”

And the last push arrived in the form of a low, guttural moan against your heat. Just like Taehyung had requested, you came on his tongue, and gladly so. As your legs trembled under the hit of your first orgasm, your fingers held tightly to the roots of his hair, riding out your high against the intoxicating movements of his tongue against your clitoris. You cried out what resembled the pieces of his name in an exasperated exhale, drowning in the intercalated waves of heat and iceness that ran up and down your spine.

When Taehyung departed from in-between your legs and sat back on the bed, his roseate tongue came out, licking the remnants of your liquids on his plump lips, and taking his fingers to his mouth to do the same. “You taste so good…” the boy trailed off, the mere image turning into the hottest thing you had ever seen. As he looked at you, however, you observed that his eyes were a bit emptier than before. “Do you want to continue?” he inquired.

As soon as those words left his swollen, wet lips, you noticed that his timbre had decayed into a neutral one, and instantly noticed that it was the simulation asking for your consent. Better safe than sorry, you guessed.

Then again, if you were there, you might as well go all out.

You licked your lips, looking down at his own — his mouth was completely covered by your juices, shining against the dim magenta lights like small diamonds. “Yes,” you responded. That simple sentence took all of your spiritual strength; even the steadiness of your voice was hanging by a thread. “I want more.”

Much to your delight, that appeared to be all that he necessitated to keep your night moving along, for his gaze drew back to the same fathomless expansion that had been ruling over your thoughts. If there were any fragments of his robotic, pre-programming self still living within that hotel room, they soon vanished as he began to speak again.

“Ah, love, you're still dripping for me,” the boy complimented in awe. With lustful appetite scintillating behind his eyes, Taehyung took two of his fingers back to your folds; but, instead of entering you, they simply dwelled at your wetness, earning a low groan from him as he pushed them apart, then trailed softly towards your clit. The contact made you shake, air stuck in your lungs. “Fuck, you're soaking the bed, baby. Is that how much you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, Taehyung, please,” you whined out, trying to move your core against him. However, to your frustration, his other hand moved quicker than your intentions, and it held your hips in place. Such an annoying little tease you had gotten for yourself. “Stop with this and just fuck me.”

Again, so much for being subtle. Then again, as much as Taehyung was playing the dominating part in that piece of virtual heaven, your wishes were the ones to be taken into consideration, especially when they were worded in such urgent manner. Quite literally, it bottomed down to the fact that you wished for him to fuck you, and so he would.

Without warning, as he often liked to act, the boy positioned himself between your legs. Taehyung took his hand away from your core and wrapped it around his member, using it to guide himself past your folds. He started by teasing his head in, making you get used to his size, before, at last, sinking the rest of his length inside; the delicious way of your walls stretched open to accommodate his cock making you to fall back against the mattress in a silent plea.

Taehyung was a quivering mess as he breathed out, fighting back a groan of satisfaction. His hands returned to rest on each side of your head, and his chest lowered, getting closer to your own. “Shit, I could just slip right in,” he told you, slowly pulling his hips back, leaving only the tip of his member in, just to shove himself back inside you. Once again, he repeated the action, starting with a slower rhythm, filling you to the brim. “You feel so fucking good, babe, fuck…”

Your only reply had been a restrained moan, and the wrapping of your legs around his waist. Taehyung was thick, reaching every possible spot inside you and leaving you in a storm of moans and torn supplications; fingers holding to the bed sheets in a shallow, frustrated attempt to hold yourself back to rationality.

With furrowed brows, Taehyung closed his eyes in concentration. Gradually, his hips started to lose precision in their pushes, and his rhythm was a scattered combination of movements; following the symphony of his constant groans and moans, fucking you much faster — rougher — than before. “You like this?” he panted.

“Yeah,” you said. He rolled his hips against you, fucking you so well that you saw stars forming constellations before your eyes. “Go deeper, ple—”

But he had already understood your request, and loud exclamation of delight dropped from your bruised lips, interrupting your sentence. You felt as his member, thick and throbbing, entered you deeper, stretching you wide and hitting all the lovely spots. “Like this?” he whispered in a hoarse voice, unable to hold back his own cries of delectation. His pouty lips wrote your fate on the surface of your soft cheeks, moving towards your neck once again. “Is this okay?”

“Oh fuck, yeah, just like this,” you cried out, closing your eyes in utter ecstasy as he did what you requested. Taehyung made sure to bring his hips back — his tip almost leaving your heat — before slamming himself back in, rolling his hips slightly so he could reach the all the places you loved so much with each feral thrust. The heat of his breaths against your skin was constant, but it could never win against the sensations that spreaded throughout your body. “Don’t stop, oh my god.”

Sooner than you would like, your second orgasm of the night hit you like a tidal wave, making you cry out his name again and again; your previous line of thought forgotten. You closed your eyes in endless, euphoric bliss, dwelling in the way he continued to fuck you through your high; knees shaking and arms far too weak to hold down to the bed.

Still, he fulfilled your request, and didn’t stop even after you had come undone.

“Taehyung,” you called, voice no more than a frail exclamation floating around the air. Your body was thrown up and down as he fucked you hard, the sound of sheets beneath of skin combining perfectly with the deep moans that left the boy. Taehyung was so strong in his thrusts that even the sensation of your boobs bouncing turned into a ocean of jubilation. “I already c-came.”

He inhaled sharply, hands meeting the curvature of your waist. The heat of his palms sent shivers down your spine; the frown of pleasure that overtook his features was enough to erase all your flabbergasted contemplations. “But you feel so perfect,” the boy praised, his storm-like advances becoming more and more inconsistent by the second; fingers holding to your flesh almost possessively. “Do one more for me, baby, come on. Cum for me.”

If it had been in real life, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to pull that off, but, since the context was different, the task did not feel as impossible as it seemed. “O-Okay,” you agreed in a stutter, reality seeming to be eons away. You were too weak to even protest, not that you really wanted to. “For you.”

And bless Paradise 17 for making your simulated body recover faster than your real one ever could, because it didn’t take much longer until your oversensibility gave way to a new wave of euphoria.

You bit your lip then, hard, trapping a whimper behind your teeth as you felt Taehyung maintain his strong actions, his eyes glued to the soft bouncing of your boobs; lips vaguely parted to form a silent syllable. Everything was becoming too much: his moans were too constant, yet so muffled; the pigmentation of the room contrasted with the bright lights from outside. The world was coming to a sudden halt, and your focus could barely hold itself to one single fragment of that room — the buildings that tried to reach the skyline beyond the window glass; then back to the sweat that accumulated between your bodies; then flickering to the clenching of Taehyung’s jaw as he felt your walls tightening around him.

But then, when you started to believe you were going to cum for another time, the man ceased his movements, and drew away from your body.

The absence of his touch — and subsequently, of his member inside you — was like a shock that ran through your limbs, making your eyes immediately dart open. You found your own discombobulated gaze on the mirror above and, besides that, the retrieving of his figure as he moved away from your own.

You pushed yourself to seat up.  “Taehyung, what—”

“Hold on, baby, it won’t take long,” he requested, interrupting your ‘what the fuck are you doing?’, and leaning over the bed’s edge, reaching for the crepuscular nightstand. Taehyung opened the drawer in a swift movement and you heard something roll inside it, meeting the wood. “I want you to feel even better. You can lay down.”

Fighting back against your true desires, you did as he requested. Above you, your reflected body was covered in cherry-covered marks — all the way to the deep colors on your neck, to the ghostly pressing of his hands on your breasts and hips. The realization of Taehyung’s true roughness only made your craving reach further, rupturing upon your tongue in the form of a breathless suspire. “Tae, please.”

Taehyung lived up to his promise and, within a second, he was already crawling back towards you. “I’m here, love.” He smirked rather amicably — though, in his eyes, shone the flame of his prolonged self-indulgence. “I have something for you.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about when you saw the small, pink-colored object in his hands, and you understood where he was getting at. Of course: you did select vibrators after all. Cheers for stupid decisions.

And cheers for Taehyung for acting before you could even construct a response.

The contact of the vibrator against your clit made you cry out instantly — your body was unaware of the small period that it had been privated from his touches, for you were right back where you stopped, and lust, once again, ran through your veins.

You clenched around nothing and, in an automatic movement, you looked down at his throbbing member. Promptly, you observed how his cock was swollen, ready to cum once again, begging to be touched, to fill you up just the way you loved it. The mere sight of him made you whimper in expectation, your abdomen flinching as the vibrations continued to spread. “Taehyung, p-please,” you begged again. The pressure inside your core was too intense, you just needed to release it. You couldn’t hold back for much longer. “I’m gonna cum like t-this if you don’t hurry.”

Luckily, Taehyung, as you had noted, wasn’t the biggest fan of holding back either. With the fluid movements of a running river, he moved back in between your legs, and placed them over his thighs, angling you perfectly to receive him once again.

One second later, he had already slipped back inside you, and his rough advances resumed.

Sweat had accumulated at the bottom of your spine, and the world just felt too dense to even breathe properly; even less to construct abstract sentences. You begged for your body to just made you cum at once, because you didn’t know how long you could endure that torture for.

Yet, Taehyung wasn’t completely satisfied with your position. With a strong motion, he took one of your hands and placed it over the vibrator, making you hold it firmly against your sensitive spot. The pressure became more intense, and you felt as if your lungs were on fire. “Keep it there, baby,” Taehyung instructed with a hoarse voice, his hips beginning to take a more violent pace. The vibrations against your clit were becoming too much, and you felt as if you could reach your high again at any time now. “Yeah, that’s right. Feels good?”

You bit down on your lower lip, fingertips trembling against the vibrator. “T-Taehyung,” you called in a whimper, looking up to meet the mirror on the ceiling. You could see the motions of his back muscles with perfection, his hips advancing against yours repetitively; your own, needy eyes staring back at you in an unspoken bargain. God, the man fucked you like a machine and, in a way, he was one. “Taehyung, it’s too much…”

Like a whisper inside your mind, your safe word came in a silent proposal — but you quickly overlooked it. You didn’t want it to stop. Not yet.

“Yes, baby, fuck,” he groaned, making sure to add more and more force to his eager thrusts. Shit, you could feel him throbbing inside you, fucking you raw. You moaned and cried, knees shaking as you pressed down the pink vibratior to your clit, the contact adding to the hypnotic, harsh thrusts of his cock in and out of you. The scorching, frenzied waves in your lower body were becoming unbearable, ready to come crumbling down at any given instant. “Cum on my cock, please, baby…”

And that was the final drop. You didn’t know if it was his stupidly corny pet names or the overwhelming movement of his large member inside you, but, honestly, you didn’t care. It could have been a combination of those factors, or perhaps something entirely different. The point was that you had reached your breaking point, and your body could not take it any longer.

You wanted to beg for him to go on, to fuck you harder, deeper, faster; but you couldn’t find the words to do so. You reached for the stars, and there you stayed. As your lips opened, only a choked moan came out, eyes closing as your climax washed like currents throughout your body — making your knees tremble and your stomach clench up. Your nails dug to the skin of his back as you called out his name, your weak voice coming in fragments because of the force of his thrusts.

He, too, could not take much longer. “I’m gonna cum,” Taehyung said in a groan, hitting impossibly deep inside you. Though your climax, you really felt how big he was, keeping you in your place as you tightened around him. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect, so tight, I’m— oh, shit.“

You felt as his cock throbbed inside you as he came undone, his thrusts getting more erratic as his voice was sliced by moans and grunts, your name being thrown in the form of disconnected sounds. He fucked you through his high like he had promised: roughly, giving you no space to recover, and only stopped when you complained at the oversensibility.

Taehyung, at last, let out a final, exhausted curse before he moved away from your body, rolling next to you on that king-sized bed. For an instant, silence filled the space between the two of you. Then, the forsaken inquiry resounded once again. “Do you want to continue?” he asked, his throaty voice navigating the air like disembodied sin.

The vibrator was turned off, and you placed it in between the two of you — quivering fingers and sliced breaths echoing in between your sweaty bodies. You swallowed dry, taking an instant to fully organize your thoughts. The sensation of your orgasm still lingered within your bones, and you could swear your centre still felt the vibrations of the object.

“Yes,” you said in a blunt, reckless decision. “Yes please, I want more. Just one more.”

“Are you sure? There’s no need to be greedy.” Taehyung smirked at the eagerness that lingered behind your lips, barely vocalized within your fragmented syllables. As the man lethargically turned his chest towards you, your gaze followed the movement of his cock — still so deliciously swollen, vaguely coated by the whiteness of his release — as thumped against the softness of the mattress, begging to be caressed once again. “I’ll understand if you want to stop for today, love.”

You licked your lips, attention oscillating between his dark charcoal eyes and the throbbing of his member. There was something terribly hot about the way that Taehyung was still hard, and traces of hornyness could still be found lingering just at the back of his smile.

The man, just like every other computer-generated personality in that simulation, had been perfectly coded to be the best partner you would ever have, and he certainly lived up — and surpassed — your expectations. And, to top all of that, the atmosphere of Paradise 17 was, on itself, aphrodisiac. It consumed you from the inside out, making you base your decisions on the desires of the flesh, and not your rational impulses. Outside the simulation, you would have never agreed to another round of that cardio exercise, but, then and there, any other option seemed far too preposterous to even consider.

So, when your answer left your lips, you were not precisely left surprised.

“I can do one more.”

A deep chuckle reverberated within his chest, and he moved slowly to sit up on the bed, back pressed against the headboard. Manners forgotten, one of his hands curled around his aching cock, fingers teasing his slit as he took in your fucked-out image. Taehyung hissed at the sensitivity of his member, twitching painfully at the absence of your heat; a long, guttural moan breaking upon his lips as he spoke again. “Look what you do to me,” his chest quivered as his spoke, panting breaking his words into breathless pleas. “I’m still so horny.”

The image of him jerking off was just too hot to handle, and certainly not something you had been psychologically ready to endure. Taehyung moaned, his own eyes falling to the rapid movements of his fingers against his pulsating length; droplets of sweat glistening on his forehead, shining over the roseate hue of his cheeks. From the clenching of his abs and the rise and fall of his hips, you could tell that he was working his way past the painful sensitivity of his last two orgasms. You desperately wanted to watch him cum like that, but you knew that he was just teasing you further.

Which, by the way, really fucking worked.

Taehyung grunted as his hand continued its movements, eyes falling shut as the delightful sensation of his actions started to work its way around his body. “I can’t hold myself back when I’m around you, baby, you make me so hard.” He threw his head back against the soft headboard, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard, attempting to hold back a whine. You didn’t even care that you were in a simulation then, you just wanted to have him again. “Will you take me well, babe?”

“So well.” You breathed out, biting your lower lip as his actions increased in speed. Taehyung was starting to lose himself in his own bliss, enchanted by the sinful images you presented him. The view he gifted you — sweaty hair and closed eyes; parted lips coated by your nectar; and constant, needy moans — was driving you insane, eagerness taking over you once again. “Taehyung, please, I need to feel you… I’ll take you well, please…”

“Ah, babe.” Taehyung sighed, opening his eyes just enough so you could notice the way his irises shone in absolute lust — he looked like a piece of inferno wrapped in the ethereality of paradise, from the way his hair was gleaming in droplets sweat to the clenching of his abs. “You’re such a good girl for me, fuck… Get up.”

And that request was all you necessitated. With expeditious movements, you stood up besides the bed and, instantaneously, felt as his cum began to drip in between your legs, running down your thighs. What a fucking mess, you thought. If it hadn't been a simulation, you would have definitely cleaned yourself up before anything else — not that you thought your real body could have endured all of that, plus what was coming, but still.

“Move closer to the window, let me see you.” Taehyung delicately requested, as he leisurely let go of his member and watched it bounce against his abdomen, aching for you. As you did as you were told, you felt the weakness of your legs beneath you, and the unspoken promise that they would give out at any instant.

You didn’t know what it was, but you just loved the way that Taehyung seemed so horny to have you again and again, unable to keep his hands off himself as he watched you — from the movement of your wet thighs to the suave bouncing of your breasts — as you moved towards the kaleidoscopic glass, momentaneously hesitant, waiting for more of his orders.

Soon enough, they came.

Taehyung got up, and ran one hand through his sweaty strands of hair, pushing it back and showing you his furrowed brows. He looked like lucifer then, owner of such enveloping aura that you could lose yourself in the labyrinth of his fathomless gaze. “Love,” he began, “Tell me what you want.”

As he took one step toward you, you took one behind, and your back me the gelid window. Air was trapped within the walls of your throat, both from the contact of the surface and the tension that lingered between the two of you. “I just want to have you,” you spoke out. And that was the pure truth. “I don’t care how.”

He smiled. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets,” Taehyung told you with uncharacteristic kindness, gaze falling to the alluring forms of your body, the vague trembling of your knees. Two of his fingers traced down the path between your breasts, his voice coming out lower as an order came out of his lips. “Turn your back to me.”

Eager, you followed Taehyung’s command immediately. Before you, in his phantasm-like reflection, you saw the way he bit down on his lower lip, groaning as he noticed your growing wetness.

“Ass up for me, love,” Taehyung murmured from behind you, his hoarse timbre sending shivers down your spine. Once again, you did as he said, perking up your hips and finding support with your palms against the window. “That's it, baby.” Lackadaisically, his digits contoured the curvature of your ass, groping at your flesh tightly. He knew about your desire, and took his time to tease you — next time, you would make sure to get the most impatient partner you could find. “Just look at you, all ready for me.”

You whined at the sensation of his big cock bumping against your heat as he stepped even closer, your core clenching around nothing. “Taehyung, please—” Heavy breaths painted pictures of diaphanous clouds against the window, and the polychromatic city lights became foggy underneath it. Outside, you could see the outline of other people passing in front of windows, and something fell at the pit of your stomach — were you on online mode? Were those real people using the system?

Did you even care?

Not really.

Behind you, Taehyung chuckled at your distress, and the sound reverberated through your breastbone. “Look at that,” he provoked. Against your clit, you felt the tip of his cock, and the mere contact made you gasp in anticipation — you felt so empty, you needed him again, just one last time. “All those people are watching you get fucked. Isn’t that lovely?”

Lost amongst your blurred thought, you closed  your eyes as you felt the sensation of his member rubbing itself in-between your folds. Taehyung was still vaguely covered by his own pre-cum, and your wetness lubed his way perfectly. If you angled your lower body just enough, you’d be able to feel the slow, dragged-out grinding of his throbbing ache against your entrance and convince yourself, even if for an instant, that his grinding would cease, and he would end your torture by spreading you open.

Nevertheless, that illusion of pleasure was short-lived.

A sharp, burning pain spread across your asscheek as it came in contact with his palm, making you jolt your body forward in a mixture of surprise and delectation. And there it was: spanking. You knew there was something still missing from your checklist of kinks.

“Answer me, love,” Taehyung almost hissed against the skin of your neck. “I asked you a question.”

You took a second to even remember what question he was referring to, and three more to conjure an answer — or something even remotely close to that. “Yes, yes it is,” you said. You had no idea what he wanted you to respond, and the grinding of his cock against your folds didn’t make your mind any less fogged.

Once again, he laughed at your distressed words. This time however, the softness of his deep chuckles was accompanied by the tenderness of his palm against the same area he had hit. “Well.” Taehyung breathed out, pushing your hair away from your neck. He planted a kiss on your skin, and his hands found the curvature of your waist. “We should put on a show, then. Don’t you think so?”

As much as you would adore the idea of him forcing another answer out of you, you pushed your tired vocal chords to formulate the words of your agreement. “I do, yeah.”

He hummed, and took one of his hands to guide himself to your entrance. “Let’s start, then,” Taehyung mumbled. With the heavy breaths that departed from his lips, and the hunger that was reflecting in his eyes, you could tell that he did not want to prolong that instant for longer than necessary.

Taehyung entered you with one long, swift motion, allowing for you to get, once again, used to his size. In the phantasmagorical reflection of the foggy window, you catched glimpses of his own face, contorted by fervorous hunger, as he felt the way you opened himself to him.

You pressed your forehead against the glass as he held tighter to your flesh, gasping at the feeling. This time, he wasn’t really focusing on thrusting inside you, but on pushing and pulling your body against his cock, making you do most of the job. “Taehyung, you’re so big,” you choked out without much thought, back arching as his hips begun to move, sliding in and out of you, then starting to take on a more violent, rapid rhythm. “It feels so good, fuck.”

Mindlessly, your hips perked up, seeking for a new angle. It was probably the amount of times you had come already — two? three? You couldn’t even remember — but you could tell that your body was not going to be able to endure that sensation for much longer. That certainty, however, presented itself once Taehyung moved to pull your ass up, while fucking you deeper, and happened to hit your sweet spot.

“Oh my god, Taehyung, right there. Don’t stop,” you begged. Against the glass, your fingers slid down, leaving behind the marks of your hand. The world outside was nothing but a blur, and you did not care for anyone else that could catch a glimpse of your decay into perdition.  “I’m so close already.”

“Me too,” Taehyung responded in a whisper. Inside you, his member throbbed and twisted in need, signaling that the man wouldn’t be able to take it for much longer either. “Fuck, baby, just take me, I know you can do it.”

The tingling in your lower belly was spreading throughout your hips and stomach, traveling to infest your entire body. It felt dangerously good, and you were sure you were about to reach your breaking point — a part of you wished for him to go slower just so you could prolong that sensation, but that was just too much for you to ask. You loved the way he filled you up, his thick cock twitching inside you as he fucked you into oblivion, too harsh, too rough for you to follow.

So, you found your relief for the final time that night, crying out his name as he continued to drill into you, pushing your breasts against the glass, holding to your hips with the same force he has smacked you aforetime. In a way, you didn’t expect to end it any other way. It was almost poetic, if you thought about it.

“That’s right, love,” Taehyung murmured against the skin of your back, closing his eyes. You could tell he was close too, for the his abdomen had started clenching. He was a greek god then, making you his in every right way, his muscles outlined by the neon illumination that came from outside. “You’re such a good girl, aren't you? You just love it when I have you like this, you take my cock so well.”

You felt as if you were about to explode, pleasure overtaking every cell of your body. Trembling, your knees fought to keep you steady as Taehyung used your body to get himself off.

His teeth found the skin of your neck, biting down lightly. Taehyung seemed as if he wanted to claw his way into your body, for even his thrusts got impossibly harder, raising your hips with the impact. “You’re so tight, love, so fucking perfect,” he spoke against your skin, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, and the other seeking support on the window. “I’m… I’m going to cum, baby.”

And, of course, he was a man of his word. Taehyung came inside you with a profound groan against your wet skin, and you could feel as he filled you up with his cum; still thrusting in and out of you as it began to drip in between your legs. You whimpered at the sensitivity, and your legs almost gave out beneath you as he continued to fuck himself through his relief.

Alright, truth be told. You may have exaggerated a bit, but, god, it was worth every second.

He ceased his movements and, for an instant, there was only serenity. Then, for the final time that night, the same question resounded throughout the consolidated room. “Do you want to continue?” Taehyung inquired, his lips mere centimeters away from your ear, and his cock still buried deep inside you.

You sighed at the contact of his warm breath, attempting to organize your ponderations. “No, not anymore,” you answered, a bit sad. “I should go now.”

Frankly, you didn’t want to leave: the sex was too good and, from your glimpse at the clock at the wall, you could tell that you still had two hours before the constant virtual immersion reached the margins of dangerousness. Still, you were fucking exhausted. There was no way that you could endure another round, even if your simulated self already had much more stamina then you would ever achieve in real life. Paradise 17 was, after all, also reaching for the realistic side, and the tragic truth was that you were never the most athletic person around.

On the reflection, you saw that Taehyung pouted at your answer. “I will miss you, love,” he whispered against your neck, his fingertips caressing the curvature of your waist. Oh, you would really fucking miss him, and would make sure to come back as soon as you had your energy back on track. “I’ll be here for you, alright?”

That was a low hit, you thought, but you forced yourself to maintain your call. “Alright,” you mumbled back, closing your eyes in a moment of concentration. That was going to hurt — spiritually, psychologically, perhaps even physically, but it had to be done. “Cinnamon.”

Upon the soft-spoken verbalization of your safe word, the universe came to a sudden halt, and the simulation was paused. On the window before you, a diminutive, square-shaped screen appeared, shining in bright niveous colors. Do you wish to cease the simulation? It inquired.

“Yes.” You breathed out. The most difficult of decisions require the hardest of wills, after all — or at least that was how you thought the saying went.

Before you, the screen flickered into a brand new message. Please hold. You will be unplugged from the online interface, and your progress will be saved.

Increasingly, the hotel morphed into a darker shade of itself, like the flower that withered at the corner of your bedroom. The lights were turned off, and the world succumbed into penumbra. The fabric of the artificial reality shivered then, similar to how a small rock induces waves in a puddle, preparing itself to send you back to the world of the living — away from Paradise 17, and from the hellish magnificence that was Taehyung.

The steps were the same as when you entered the simulation: all physical sensation ceased for a prolonged instant, only to come crashing back as you were transported to a completely different position. Abruptly, you could feel the weight of your IMVIT helmet all around you, and the softness of your mattress was, once again, beneath your thighs — the touch so paradisiacal when compared to the roughness you had just endured.

You blinked a few times, trying to grow used to your body, and the tenebrosity that expanded all around you; your features barely illuminated by the small visor inside the object. On the screen before you, blue, pixelated letters read: Thank you for using Paradise 17. We hope you had a pleasurable experience. Come back soon.

And oh, damn right you would.

You can now remove your IMVIT helmet. Idol thanks you for your preference.  

Supiring, you did as it requested.

The muffled atmosphere of your room hit you all at once, in clear dissonance with the sweet, cool air of Paradise 17. You waited a few seconds before your eyesight had adapted to the dim illumination and, with a heavy heart, you placed your helmet by your side, and threw your legs over the bed’s edge. Between your thighs, you could feel the effect of the simulation, for you had completely soaked your underwear.

Within a minute, you had already sat down in front of your computer and closed all open programs, feeling the ponderousness of sleep hanging over your shoulders. Still, there was something you needed to check before you allowed for your slumber to overtake you. For science, of course, just a bit of research.

Without much thought, you opened one of your go-to forums, and typed “Paradise 17” on the search bar. After a few seconds of scrolling through high star reviews and awfully personal descriptions of the user’s experiences, you found the piece of information you were searching for.

“The developers of the infamously popular simulation, Paradise 17, came out this last Sunday with great news for its devoted users. Its newest version, which is expected to hit the markets next month, will have, amongst other updates, the possibility of multiple partners. Oh Sehun, the spokesperson for Idol, told us in an exclusive interview that, so far, the number of participants is limited, ranging from the usual two, all the way up to five. Other than that, Idol promised to add new scenarios to the simulation, while still following the hotel theme — such as a hot tub and a public pool, for the ones who enjoy the thrill of being seen in public (...)”

You elevated one of your eyebrows in clear interest — a threesome? Now, that was something you could look forward to. The new update couldn’t come soon enough.

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #kim taehyung #bangtan boys #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #taehyung imagines #taehyung scenarios #scenarios #imagines #smut #rxm #bts reader insert #dom taehyung #bts v #this is just fiLTH

[aryalaenkha-a]

I was doing Akadaemia Anydre's dungeon when suddenly, as I went to the final boss, my eyes moved to a red drawing on the floor.

I don't know what the text says exactly in English, but in French, there is a note written on the floor saying this:

(French Version) Compte-rendu de recherche : Nous avons pu confirmer l'existence de ces “bêtes cauchemardesques” qui faisait l'objet de bien des rumeurs au-delà des mers. Un membre de l'institut a été dépêché sur place afin d'en rapporter un spécimen pour procéder à une étude in vivo. Nous avons baptisé la créature : “Archaeotania”. Lahabrea lui-même s'est penché sur le sujet et estime qu'Archaeotania pourrait être un amalgame de toutes les peurs qui sommeillent en chacun de nous. Actuellement, les recherches se focalisent sur la découverte d'un moyen de contrer cette menace. Le plan le plus prometteur consisterait à créer une bête fantasmagorique capable de lui faire face, une sorte de force gardienne.

(Translation) Research report: We were able to confirm the existence of these "nightmarish beasts" that were the subject of many rumours across the seas. A member of the institute was dispatched to the site to bring back a specimen for an in vivo study. We have baptized the creature: "Archaeotania". Lahabrea himself has looked into the subject and believes that Archaeotania could be an amalgam of all the fears that lie dormant in each of us. Currently, research is focused on finding a way to counter this threat. The most promising plan would be to create a phantasmagorical beast capable of facing it, a kind of guardian force.

After studying the drawing more closely, I managed to highlight 3 main elements that were perfectly intertwined:

The symbol of Lahabrea.

Quetzalcoatl (the final boss of this dungeon)

And probably Archaeotania (a FATE world boss located in the Tempest area)

I am now curious to know if Square Enix has put other small details like this!

#mun | ooc #FFXIV Lore #shadowbringers spoilers #5.0 spoilers #Akadaemia Anydre #Amaurot

[omatics]

GRACE  AND  HUMANITY :  an  extremely  long  headcanon ,  i  am  so  sorry !!

preface (aka, why this matters): essentially i’m trying my best to understand the truth about grace and separate it from the lie that grace herself propagated and believed in for many years. it’s a lie i think reginald started, honestly.

he thought it was in his best interest to assert that no part of grace hargreeves was alive or sentient at any point. she was wholly based on a code that he had written and incapable of growth or change. 

so what i’m trying to answer is a pretty pivotal question to her character. was any part of grace, the one who loved and cared for children who would never have experienced that kind of kindness without her, ever truly human? 

short answer, yes. long answer??? well ............

the early days (1993-1995): grace was not born but built and she was not initially built exceptionally well. she was cold in weird places (literally) and uncanny as hell. she couldn’t feel pain and therefore could not react to things properly in a way that would identify her as anything other than a robot.

she would get back up when vanya tossed her, turn her head a full three-hundred-and-sixty degrees and be all beaming smiles. this is weird. it’s also the period in which she is the least physically human, and her physicality is tied very closely to her sense of self.

when the seam lines and edges get smoothed out in 1995 and she’s fitted with both nerve endings and the ability to be a human temperature all over her body, her relationship with the world around her begins. she can feel things, all kinds of things and not just pain. she has a preference for certain textures, she likes running warm water over her hands.

little things that were once so pointless and phantasmagoric become real and important. she begins to develop likes and dislikes because she can feel them.

she is not, however, fitted with any kind of programming that would induce genuine emotion in her. grace had to come up with that shit on her own.

the mid-days (1996-2006): this is really the period in which grace comes in to her own and can be completely herself. her preferences begin to solidify as concrete likes and dislikes. she begins to separate things she enjoys from things she does not. 

programming her to protect her children is really the crux of how all other emotions develop for grace. her code insists that her kids matter, she believes that so deeply and as she watches their personalities grow she realizes why. luther is strong and brave. diego is tough with a real sweetness. allison is confident and intelligent. klaus is carefree and dynamic. five is competitive and curious. ben is good-hearted and funny. vanya is talented and reserved. 

all these things, these real and tangible differences between her children leads grace to want to learn how to love them best. it requires understanding, strategy, trial and error. and while she might have been initially only programmed to protect, her desire to understand why leads her to truly care for them.

the first emotions grace understands are love, pride, joy. she realizes she enjoys watching her children be happy and succeed. she goes out of her way to make sure they feel special and important, because they deserve that.

this initial love is also how she comes to feel negative emotions as well. grief, anger and loneliness are all learned in response to what happens to her children. losing five makes her cry for the first time, and ben shortly after is her first brush with permanent death. her understanding of anger comes as a response to reginald abusing klaus and vanya, and then taking away her ability to fight for them.

and when her kids leave her, grace realizes just how difficult it is to be alone. she never thought for a second that it would matter, she isn’t real and shouldn’t expect people who are to care for her in return. but it still hurt that no matter how much she felt, no matter how careless she was about hiding it, it wasn’t enough to make her children write or visit. 

grace could understand why. reginald has a habit of being the centre of attention even when he wasn’t in the room. her love would always be limitless, they never need to worry about whether she’s proud of them. but they did with reginald, and staying away is the only way for them to heal from that. 

the later days (2007-2013): it’s hard to tell exactly when all grace’s children were gone, but the vast majority had likely left as early as the mid-2000s. by this point, her duties as mother have mostly come to a close, leaving her somewhat adrift but also able to explore herself more freely.

reginald by this time had also stopped regularly maintaining grace’s code. she is no longer really needed, her kids are now young adults and capable of taking care of themselves. she doesn’t have to work as hard to preserve through careful, secret back-ups the sense of self that she had been building for a decade or more, but she still does.

she starts watching more movies, developing a taste for genre and learning to let herself feel whatever the director is trying to communicate. she reads all the books in the library and lets herself be moved by the stories therein. grace discovers she liked stories of adventure and developed a wanderlust that will follow her for the rest of her life.

music also becomes a way for her to feel things deeply irrespective of an attachment to her kids. heavy metal makes her feel valid in her anger, love songs help heal her loneliness and eighties music helps her understand that what she’s experiencing is sentiment. she can miss the good old days while also acknowledging that those days were not very good at all. 

complexity begins to creep in the more she experiments with, but grace is adamant about keeping it hidden. because regardless of what she is actually going through, she is almost certain that it isn’t real emotion. because if it is, if she’s even a little bit human?? then the way reginald treats her is utterly unacceptable. 

she becomes very angry with him, for pushing her identity down and implying that she is only an extension of his brilliance. she tries hard to purge the code that forces her to hold him in high esteem. she’s unsuccessful but nevertheless able to understand internally that his greatness is a lie. and if he can lie about that, maybe he can lie about her being just a robot.

the last days (2014-2018): this is where things start to go downhill. grace’s secret experimentation with her own humanity, even if it’s at an arm’s length is difficult for her to process. while it doesn’t fully degrade her hardware, it’s hard for her to keep up. 

she knew fear before that, she fears reginald very much but when she’s so close to defining herself as someone separate from him??? there;s a lot to be lost. she creates extensive backlogs of her consciousness, trying desperately to preserve herself should she finally be discovered. it slows her down considerably and she struggles with tasks she once found simple. 

in the end, she has every right to be afraid. reginald would go on to deactivate her first-aid response and protective programming, essentially gutting her of her personality. the protective code is the baseline for the rest of her personality, without it she’s forgetful and distant, cold all the time and unable to feel even partially the way she once had. 

she can’t feel enough to know that she misses how things were when she had a sense of self, but she definitely does. 

following her son’s decision to deactivate her, however, pogo restores grace not to her original settings but to her most recent back-up, the one right before her baseline programming had been disabled. this act of kindness allows grace to wake up both in the literal and figurative sense. she’s alive again, truly alive and able to return to her self discovery without the fear of being caught.

the now (au, 2018-present): this is really only applicable to verses in which the apocalypse doesn’t happen and the time jumps don’t start. but grace is happier than ever exploring the outside world for a time and eagerly setting herself on the path to know more.

she’s still unlikely to admit that this is very human of her. to reach beyond the confines of her programming and learn more about herself is something she’ll deny the importance of. to her, it’s just a way to spend some time now that she doesn’t have to be cooped up in the house.

really, though, her capacity to feel grows and changes every day. she understands complex emotions and situations much better now and actively seeks out new experiences. life isn’t just for human beings, she attests, although at this point she’s pretty close. 

#* ♥ ⎛ 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 ? ⎠ ── hc . #long post // #this is so fucking long god help me but it's important #because the answer is YES!!!!!!!!!!! #bc what defines human is very??? loose lbr here #so her existence fitting in to what makes someone human is ultimately subjective #but i think her desire to improve and learn and feel and love is very deeply human of her

[kawaiikatanabushi]

Hello! Can I get no. 18 from the angst prompt list, please? Thank you and hope you're having a happy day! ^^

Absolutely, @nospringonions ! This prompt had so many options, but I thought a modern day AU fit best. Please enjoy this angsty pile of ouch.

Angst Prompt # 18. “I made the mistake of thinking we could fix each other.”

This was Souji's least favorite place, sitting upon the hallway floor, his back leaned up against the bathroom door as the sounds of sniffles and sobs echoed off the white tiled floors. Freshly dried tears lined his cheeks, his eyes still red rimmed from crying. He had never argued with Chizuru this badly before and even he knew she was the only one in the right.

The woman had remained at his side through two years of tuberculosis treatment, almost living in his windowless hospital room. They hadn't even started dating until the last two months of treatment. It was a horrible way to spend the first two years of university, but Chizuru had become his lifeline. He would do anything for her. That was until treatment had ceased and opiodes had stopped pumping through his veins. The withdrawal was phantasmagorical, urging him to find another source and satisfy the searing desire for more numbness, lulling him into a false sense of security. He was wholly disillusioned thinking he had control. He fell to rifling through her uncle's clinic, popping pills out of patient's bottles with the excuse that he needed them more and stuffing them into the ziploc bag he had grown accustomed to concealing in his pocket. Chizuru's discovery was pure accident as they kissed on his couch within his apartment, the pills slipping out easily and Chizuru being the kindhearted caregiver she was had picked them up only to recognize what they were. Her confronting him had started the fighting, his pride hindering himself from admitting he had a problem.

Addiction.

The word felt so nasty and societal pressures made him feel like a failure, driving him to conceal the issue. Drug abuse was not so common, and even less spoken about. If he admitted to it, he ran the risk of losing everyone he had ever cared about and his parent provided lodgings. He had been afraid Chizuru would abandon him for it and he held onto their security like a blanket. They not only made him feel good, they aided his function. He no longer had panic attacks or aggressive outbursts. He had decided they made him a better person. That was until Chizuru demanded he get help. He hadn't been hateful, he had been monstrous. More demon than Oni-sensei.

Outside the bathroom, he shut his eyes tightly, tears washing his cheeks anew. There was a brokenhearted woman walled away from him behind a simple closed door. He would loose her, just as his father through divorce and his sister through an abusive marriage. This time, the departure would be entirely his fault.

“I made the mistake of thinking we could fix each other," Chizuru blubbered out behind the door, a loud nose blowing penetrating the silence, "But, I was so naive and childish. You started dating me for the pills, didn't you? It had nothing to do with me and my overwhelming feelings for you. I was just a means to curb your cravings. I was just a tool to you,"

"No," He sobbed, voice cracking as tears surged forward, "You mean the world to me. It's not your fault I'm screwed up. I'm messed up, kid. And, you're so innocent. I wanted to keep you as far from this ad... addiction as I could. I just wanted to protect you from it. I didn't want it to touch you,"

"But, it does touch me!" She wailed, crying vehemently, "You lied to me, Souji! You were the one to pick up the pieces after Kazama-san. You didn't shame me for dating him, telling me I should have done better. You held me tight after he left me for some other girl. You pulled me through high school. I didn't just owe you in the hospital, I wanted to see you recover. I wanted to help you through, rescue you like you did for me. I wanted to give back, because I... I lo...I..."

He could only hear the sounds of sobbing once her voice drifted, his heart bursting from her utterances. What a diabolical way to treat a woman, so poorly she couldn't even confess after all the years they had known each other and secretly loved each other. He was a villain, not a storybook hero. He wasn't the prince she deserved. He was no better than Kazama and the realization stung. He bit his lip as he heaved his own quiet tears.

Souji slipped his hand underneath the door, hoping that she would at least touch her fingers to his. He knew he had made a monumental mistake and wanted the reassurance that she would remain his love. A moment passed and he sluggishly withdrew his hand, his eyes misting so terribly he could not see through the tears. There had been nothing but air to meet his fingertips.

"I love you," he spluttered, holding a hand over his face as his heart splintered into pieces, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I'm broken. You deserve better than a using, stoner boyfriend!"

He pulled away from the door, far too afraid to hear her response. He fell face-first into his couch and wailed out his sorrow. He wasn't sure how much time had elapsed until he heard the quiet creak of an opening door. He turned to meet eyes with a tear stained Chizuru and upon instinct held out his arms for her, which she willingly collapsed into. They snuggled and sniffed, Souji unwilling to let her go.

"Maybe it isn't about fixing, you know?" He began hesitantly, "Maybe, my brokenness and rough edges meet perfectly with yours. Maybe we don't fix each other, but we mend into one thing instead. Maybe that's why we feel whole when we're together. Maybe we mend well together, n-ne?"

Chizuru lifted her petite face from his chest and met his lips with hers. He could taste salt within their kiss, but whether they were her tears or his mattered not to him. This was oneness and it felt better than any stupid drug. She was a brave woman and he was a baka is he thought she would leave over a trial such as this. She would remain his support and he would do his utmost to regain sobriety. Chizuru deserved it. Perhaps he was a broken samurai who had fallen of his horse a time or two, but he would be mounting that white charger once again.

"Will you let me support you through rehab?" She asked, her eyes froth with hope.

"As long as you hold my hand, because I'm a baby who needs constant reassurance, " he replied honestly, pulling her tightly against his chest.

"Of course. We're mending together, right?" She queried tenderly.

He nodded emphatically, loathe to let her go anytime soon. They spent an hour laying within the embrace, Chizuru gently building Souji's emotional courage until he was ready to walk to the rehabilitation center. They both knew the road was no easy trek, but they loved each other in their brokenness. To them, the other was worth the sacrifice as it well should be.

#hakuouki #hakuoki #okita souji #yukimura chizuru #okita souji x yukimura chizuru #okichi #i love okichi #angst prompt #kawaiikatanabushi #kawaiikatanabushi drabbles #ficlet #hakuouki AU #hakuouki oneshot #hakuouki oneshots #don't mind me #just sitting in the tub #writing and crying over okichi

[herobrinesfangirl]

All of the unique self ship asks? :3c

phantasmagorical - what is your favorite fantasy involving your f/o? this can be either sfw or nsfw, but please specify.

I have so many aus and fantasys, but one i always think of is, im just waling up and bendy is still asleep and just laying there, cuddling up to bendy and not wanting to move, beacuse i dont want to wake him and its so cute and mushy!

endive - if, under the circumstance, you were able to treat your f/o to a single, beautiful day without a budget, what would it consist of?

I would buy him clothing to disguise himself (because really, a toon walking around will cause panic) and taking him on a world tour, showing him more modern tech, and movies, and video games, and the big thing is japan where we will buy a bunch of pokemon merch at the poke centers and buy anime merch

limerance - gush about your f/o, no limits… but the catch is, gush as if its a message directly to your f/o. 

oh gosh hm, this is how it would be:

omg i love you so much bendy, your so cute, and adorable, and your toons are ao freaking a d o r a b l e, and i love it when you purr, and your tail is so fuccin cute! Your hooves are adorable, amd your clawa are cuteeee! I love your brooklyn accent! its so cute! i love everything about you bendy! so cuttteeee

au courant - describe in detail or provide an image of your favorite outfit your f/o has worn. if they only have one outfit, find, draw, or make an outfit collage online of something you’d like to see them in.

drawing attached

ubiquitous - how popular is your f/o in the fandom? do you think the fandom treats them well?

judging by all the x readers, au blogs, comics and stuff, pretty popular. TBH I gave bendy like angst of all angst backgrounds so i have no comment, i just dont like how people ship him with Alice AND THEY DONT TAG IT!

foofaraw - do your chosen aesthetics line up well with your f/os? meaning, if the two of you were to say, decorate a home, would your chosen styles clash or compliment each other?

If we were to get a house, we would decorate it in like a gothic style but mix in video games, dragons, and some anime.

fanfaronade - what would your f/o say when bragging about you to others?

"yeah, i gor the best wife ever, shes so cute and adorable, and she doeant take crap from anyone!"

ineffable - describe your f/o in only aesthetics. you can make a moodboard, or perhaps describe them with colors, songs, scents, unique words (; no explicit or literal details, if you can help it. be indirect. paint a picture.

ink, old cartoons, film reels, black and white, demon, dancing

serendipity - how did you first discover your f/o, or your f/os source material? how did you feel when you first saw your f/o in your source material? 

so i was browsing YouTube and saw da games had an animation for chapter 1. i watched it and laughed, then i watched the song build our machine like 100 times. every time i kept saying "dont fall in love with bendy" to myself. after like my 5th watch im like, well shit, im in love with bendy.

Drawing:

Which is a redraw of the royalty au drawing i made:

#pen ship #the pen ship #me x bendy

[alitheakorogane]

Day 17 - Freedom

(It’s Time To Be Finally Free)

“Ah, let’s sing in the summer breeze!

Even though you’re gone, I’ll look on and keep smiling free

So don’t you go and drag your feet!

We’ll sing a bright duet of the likes that they’ve never seen!

Ah, this little heart I caged so long,

It dreams of azure skies, of clearer light and a place to belong!

I guess that means I’ll play along,

For all of those days, never changed, I’ll push on with this song!”

-Henceforth, Orangestar (English Translation by David Toth)

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Two Danny Phantom fanarts posted in one day. 😂

I am back in Danny Phantom artstyle, based on the VOCALOID song “Henceforth” by Orangestar/Mikansei-P. This can be considered part of my Phantasmagorical World AU of mine, but it can still be considered as stand-alone.

#dannymay2021 #dannymay #danny phantom #danny phantom fan art #henceforth orangestar #henceforth #phanart #danny phantom artstyle #dannymay day 17 #freedom #orangestar #vocaloid #vocaloid fanart #vocaloid crossover #danny fenton phantom #phantasmagorical world au #danny phantom au #alternative universe #nicktoons #nicktoon art #angst is behind this

[cryptidsandcatacombs]

all the words for Ouma

I’m putting phantasmogorical last cause that’s gonna get nsfw reaaall quick and yes Ouma is aged up to over 18 thank you very much~

endive - if, under the circumstance, you were able to treat your f/o to a single, beautiful day without a budget, what would it consist of?Honestly, probably just a grand ol time. He’s a pretty fun guy to begin with, so I’m pretty sure I’d let him take the lead cause whatever he has planned is probably more spontaneous and fun than whatever I could come up with. To be honest, it’s one of the million beautiful things I love about him.

limerance - gush about your f/o, no limits… but the catch is, gush as if its a message directly to your f/o.

Ouma listen you may feel like shit a lot of the time and think you deserve to be alone, but you’re amazing you know that. You got a bigger heart than you think you do and you’re so fucking smart it’s unreal. Honestly, you think you’re scum, but anyone who loves to make people laugh as much as you do can’t be that bad at all. I honestly really love how fun you are like 110 percent of the time. You’re always doing your best to strive towards what you believe is the best conclusion even if it doesn’t always come across that way and it may not seem like it, but you’re a pretty nice guy in my opinion if not rough around the edges. You’ve come so far as a person and I’m proud of everything you are and what you’ve become. You make me smile a lot and I love you with all my heart. Please remember that you’re worth everything to me and you think you deserve to be alone, but you don’t. You’re more amazing than you can ever imagine Ouma and I’m proud of everything you are~

au courant - describe in detail or provide an image of your favorite outfit your f/o has worn. if they only have one outfit, find, draw, or make an outfit collage online of something you’d like to see them in

God I really haven’t thought of anything specific to be honest. I guess seeing him in an Assassin’s Creed cosplay would look amazing on him cause well it looks amazing on anyone. 

ubiquitous - how popular is your f/o in the fandom? do you think the fandom treats them well?He’s the kind of guy people love or hate. I don’t know exactly how popular he actually is to be honest, but I guess I can say he’s pretty up there. 

foofaraw - do your chosen aesthetics line up well with your f/os? meaning, if the two of you were to say, decorate a home, would your chosen styles clash or compliment each other?I would say it does to an extent. I think they would compliment each other very well if you ask me. I’m into a lot of blacks reds and purples and he’s into a lot of purples whites and blacks so ye.

fanfaronade - what would your f/o say when bragging about you to others?I heard he talks about me all the time and he says how handsome funny and smart I am and how I’m the best thing to ever happen to him and how amazing I am and how much he loves me, but come on Ouma really??? I’m not that good to be honest.

 ineffable - describe your f/o in only aesthetics. you can make a moodboard, or perhaps describe them with colors, songs, scents, unique words (; no explicit or literal details, if you can help it. be indirect. paint a picture.Full moons, sunsets, Clockwork Orange, gothic clowns, ghosts and other phantasms, the void, a diamond in the rough. 

serendipity - how did you first discover your f/o, or your f/os source material? how did you feel when you first saw your f/o in your source material? Honestly, it was when an ex friend of mine got into it to be honest and started talking about it with me. Given that I had heard about it years before but I thought nothing of Danganronpa. I decided to watch it cause it seemed interesting and I think one of my friends really wanted me to check it out to talk about it for an au we were doing. Either way, the universe has a funny way of pushing you where you need to be I think and i think the universe finally pushed me to see it at last and it’s been something amazing that I love and adore. Ask @ampersandies here. I always end up spending a large chunk of my money on Danganronpa merch at every con I go to.

NSFW under the cut:

phantasmagorical - what is your favorite fantasy involving your f/o? this can be either sfw or nsfw, but please specify.God uuuu a lot to be honest. I get the feeling Ouma is a kinky bitch and I pray to God that’s true cause let me tell ya a lot of the fantasies I have of him is being a kinky little shit. Just getting rough with me and staking his claim of me as his cause he’s also kind of possessive but I don’t if he actually is, but that’s just part of the fantasy.

Honestly, it’s all part of the thing where I want to be possessed by him and I want all of him to love and adore me. I don’t know I also love the idea of him being kinda yandere but that might be just because I’m a sucker for yanderes. That he just sees me as the most beautiful thing in the world and that he’s in awe of me. Like how much does he love me and want me really??? How possessive is he??? These are things I wanna know personally. 

#gushing about the bae

[micaramel]

Artist: Jean-Charles Hue

Venue: Lulu, Mexico City

Exhibition Title: Tijuana Tales

Date: July 11 – August 22, 2020

Click here to view slideshow



Full gallery of images, press release and link available after the jump.

Images:

Video: 



Jean-Charles Hue, Tijuana Tales, 2017, 11:04

Images courtesy of Lulu, Mexico City

Press Release:

Lulu is pleased to present a solo exhibition of the French, Paris-based film maker and artist Jean-Charles Hue entitled Tijuana Tales. Fluidly operating within and between the worlds of contemporary art and cinema, the work of Jean-Charles Hue is very much about thresholds–between nations, places, comprehension, modes of being, this world and the next. His singular and inimitable production has been shown in galleries, institutions and film festivals all over the world. He is probably most well known for his portrayal of a French Yeniche or Roma community outside of Paris, with whom he became quite close, existing among them almost Gonzo-style, making them the subject of several short and then full-length films, made between 2003 and 2007. However, more recently his work has begun to revolve around the Mexican border town Tijuana, where he has become something of an habitué, having explored the city and its inhabitants in the forthcoming full length feature, Tijuana Bible (2020) and numerous short films, one of which, Tijuana Tales (2017) is being presented at Lulu alongside a selection of photographs related to the production of the film.

This short, harrowing film recounts the stories of a motley crew of quasi-otherworldly characters whose status as figures on the threshold between life and death reflects the liminal quality of Tijuana itself. Formally indebted to Chris Marker’s Sans Soleil (1983) and Jean Rouch’s Les Maîtres Fous (1955), it is a strange and beautiful piece which both creates and portrays a universe which is categorically difficult to circumscribe with language. It is perhaps precisely for this reason that it has such a unique way of marking the viewer with the visionary mood it so evocatively seeks to depict, all but initiating them into its phantasmagoric demimonde.

Jean-Charles Hue (b.1968, Eaubonne, France) lives and works in Paris. A selection of recent solo exhibitions includes: (2011) Jean-Charles Hue, Espace croisé, Roubaix, France (2015) Jean-Charles Hue, 40mcube, Rennes, France (2014) Jean-Charles Hue – Talk, SAM Art Project, Paris, France (2013) Database (collection du FRAC Poitou-Char- entes), Centre d’art expérimental, Angoulême, France Jean-Charles Hue / UNDER- WORLD CINEMA. Recent group exhibitions include: (2020) Oh les beaux jours (Happy Days), Michel Rein, Paris, France (2001) En toute Modestie – Archipel Di Rosa, MIAM, Sète, France (2016) Day for Night, collection video Antoine de Galbert, Le SHED centre d’art contemporain, Notre-Dame de Bondeville, France Mexikokarikatur, Instituto Cervantes, Frankfurt, Germany; Animal on est mal, FRAC Ile de France au Château de Rentilly, Bussy Saint Martin, France (2015) New Tijuana Mood, ENSAPC Ygrec, Paris, France Cinéma, Les 2 Scènes, Besançon, France; True Story, Proyectos Monclova, Mexico city, Mexico. His films have been screened numerous festivals including Cannes, Venice, FICC Mexico and others, and he has been the recipient of the Jean Vigo Prize (2014) and the Langlois prize (2015), among others.

Link: Jean-Charles Hue at Lulu

from Contemporary Art Daily https://bit.ly/38ZXKCb

#micaramel

[alitheakorogane]

Day 4 - Stars

(Phantasmagorical World Upon A Wishing Stsr)

All of it was just a fake world constructed by a wish made on a shooting star, from a grieving teenage half-ghost who lost so much.

Will he woke up and go back to the real world, facing the fact that he will never be able to take back the happy world he once had? Or will he be stuck in an endless fantasy, a fake world his wish had made possible, forever?

-------

I had this wonderful AU idea that was inspired by the Picture Perfect Arc of Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun and Sky Patrol of Tomorrow by Mikansei-P.

What if the events of the Ultimate Enemy still happen, and Clockwork never fixed the timeline and gave Danny a second chance?

He still went to Vlad because of custody rights, but Danny tried hard not to repeat his mistakes that caused his family and friends to be killed. Devastated by his family and friends' death but doesn't want to become Dark Danny, he decided not to make his emotions go away by removing his ghost half, instead seeks out Desiree (the wishing ghost) to make his wish come true, to see his friends and family again.

He decided that he will wish at the same time as another major astronomical event come in, another meteor shower. He knew Desiree would be there and become powerful enough to grant his wish.

Desiree felt pity over the boy, but she can't resurrect them because she can't resurrect the dead (And on hindsight, she doesn't want Danny to interfere with her plans by stopping people from wishing and fight her). Instead, she placed Danny in a fake world where his family and friends are still alive, and time moves on.

Danny felt happy in a fake world with his loved ones still alive, while he was still struggling hiding his identity, but he felt that something's not right.

This AU explains that all what happened after The Ultimate Enemy to Phantom Planet was just a fake world that was designed by Desiree to distract Danny and help him cope with the loss of his loved ones.

That will explain why the whole world easily accepts Danny and hailed as a hero on Phantom Planet, the existence of a sentinent clone (Dani), why he was always winning against powerful ghosts easily and getting stronger, and why he can easily remove his powers and gained them on PP.

------

This and the work I will do for prompt "Illusion" for Day 7 may be connected. The AU has a title (still subject to change): Phantasmagorical World. Since phantasmagoria mean fantasy or illusion, and it screams the word Phantom on it. 😂

#dannymay2021 #dannymay #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #phantasmagorical world au #stars #danny phantom fanart #phanart #danny phantom phanart #danny phantom art #danny phantom au #dp art #dp fanart #dp au #angst #dp angst #danny phantom angst #au #au idea #danny phantom fanfic #danny phantom artstyle

[alitheakorogane]

Day 13 - Daydream

(Daydream Sky Train/空奏列車)

"Our train’s running along the Future Line, above the sea and under the dawning sky,

Our field of vision is cloaked in a serene veil of haze.

Come, let us drill our way straight through it and head toward our uncertain future, like always."

-Daydream Sky Train (Kuusou Ressha/空奏列車) by Orangestar/Mikansei-P

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I am late for DannyMay... again. It was supposed to be the 24th,and here I am, posting the 13th one.

This Danny Phantom fanart was based on the VOCALOID song Daydream Sky Train by Orangestar, also known as Mikansei-P, for the prompt 'Daydream'. I had tons of ideas popping up for this prompt, such as an idea for Phantasmagorical World AU of mine, but when I had heard another amazing VOCALOID song made by Orangestar, I decided to draw the DP version of its album art.

#dannymay2021 #dannymay #dannymay day 13 #daydream #danny phantom #sam manson #amethyst ocean #fakeout makeout #danny x sam #daydream skytrain #kuusou ressha #空奏列車 #danny phantom artstyle #danny phantom art #danny phantom fandom #danny phantom fan art #dp #phanart