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recitedemise · 5 months

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𝗠𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝘂𝗹𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿. This lengthy headcanon will refer to canon dialogue from mostly Gale, sometimes others. Reader's discretion is very much advised. There will be in depth explorations into grooming, emotional abuse, heavy manipulation, and suicide.

First, let it be said that Gale, a mortal man, will always be the powerless one in his dynamic with Mystra. Of course, nearing forty years of age, he remains entirely responsible for his own actions, his own foul blunders and every hurt he'll cause, but it's important to remember who formed much of who he is: his goddess, his deity, and egregiously, his lover.

Mystra is power. Mystra is possibility. She knows what sway she holds over her Ioyal, vulnerable, and entirely mortal followers. In all ways that matter, they are but lambs she can steer and herd as she sees fit. She knows they can't deny her, and knows they'll never want to. Gale's sheer servitude and complete devotion; to the very quick of his bones, she lapped them up.

Gale: I was just... practising an incantation. Player Character: No, there's more to it than that. I know devotion when I see it. Gale: What can I say? She's—she's Mystra. I can't describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence... Mystra is all magic. And as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation. Player Character: I didn't realize the depth of your devotion. Gale: Magic is... my life. I've been touched with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it.

Gale, orb in his chest, doomed to be eaten by the very thing he loves the most, still speaks so reverently of the goddess, of his lover that has left him to die. He conjures images of her memory—and she is all the while forgetting about his.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rasheman. While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth, I thought it born of caution after some catastrophe of wizardly men-folk of old. Now, I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

Tales of Mystra's treachery spreads far, leaving those familiar waters surrounding Gale's tower in Waterdeep. They whisper her name, afraid to utter it one time too many, suspecting, perhaps, that she'll show in their mirror like some Faerûnian Bloody Mary.

Talent rouses Mystra. She can see who uses the gift of the Weave and feel them, sampling whatever delight sings their veins as they pull from her domain. Not unlike a spider, she'll follows every tremor that strikes her as just a sliver more profound; and Gale, a prodigy, plucked the Weave's web to so garner her focus. And like some black widow scurrying, she surged down that ripple to prey on a boy. There, Gale, so impressionable, was just a mite older than twelve whole summers. He sat so stunned, beholding Mystra as she lured him into the cradle of her Astral domain. Bathed in her magic, pleasantly coddled within that glittering cosmos, Gale felt blessed in a way he'll struggle always to recount, no word, no language, fit to describe it. He felt chosen. He felt seen. And potently, to a child, he felt loved. Now, imagine a child experiencing something like that. Imagine what they'd think, how brilliant they must be when stood beside the rest. She told him he was gifted, made his heart swell not unlike a child's appetite for praise. She knew what she was doing by offering these morsels, by preying on a child's most delicate mind, and Gale, child prodigy, was already so awash in the idea that his value was in magic. Unfortunately, Gale, susceptible, had no way of squirming out of his goddess' grasp.

Reality: She's laid down the seeds to creep into his heart. When he's just old enough—seventeen's sufficient, she thinks—she stakes her claim and makes him hers.

Gale: My virtuosic talent once caught the eye of the goddess of magic herself, Mystra, who named me her chosen and her lover.

Gale is stunned when she takes him to bed the first time. (Is this really happening?) Mystra claims his mouth in a kiss, taking everything she knows he offers so willingly. Mystra, of course, is not so stunned.

Dream Visitor: An elder brain... one of the cruelest and most powerful creatures in existence, enslaved by mere mortals. Gale, tasked with Mystra's missive to sacrifice himself: This is it... I must do as Mystra commands.

Gale has worryingly low self-esteem beyond his magic. As already explored, his entire worth as a man hinged on and was built entirely off his talent as a wizard. He fought tooth and nail for any crumb of affection Mystra would offer his way, something she only gave him at all seeing his gift as a child. He wants her forgiveness. He desires it genuinely. He believes so firmly that he has wronged his goddess, buying into the idea that sacrificing himself will right his wrong. She holds such dominion over him, making him reduce his confidence in himself into a mere, trifling pittance; after all, she wasn't just his lover, but the patron deity he prays to. And regardless, Gale is a people pleaser, his initial acceptance of her missive coming as no surprise.

After all, Gale, at times, goes to incredible lengths to appease his audience. This habit, compulsion, impulse, whatever you want to call it, is a quality that was relentlessly exacerbated in his relationship with his immortal paramour. He wanted to content her, felt all he did was never enough, for as a matter of principle, he was oceans, leagues, and entire galaxies beneath her. Gale figures: well, how can a short-lived dalliance satisfy a god? He had to make her happy. Indeed, he'd done everything she'd ask. He'd bedded her how she liked, kissed her how she wanted, and of course, even said those words she'd said tasted best. She was his lover, a lover that never tended to his own needs and pleasures, and he fooled himself into thinking that's enough. He won't bend backwards for everyone, mind you, but if you're of the ones he would, he would stop at nothing to make you happy. After all, people pleasing is a way to keep oneself safe, a trauma response to sidestep discomfort, and though it achieves only a direly tentative peace, when that is all you've been fed, you will pursue it.

Gale did not want to lose Mystra; he couldn't bare the sting of it. And so, when Elminster visited him, Mystra's call for his death offered oh so callously, Gale, heartbroken, felt that part of him kick up. He couldn't endure the guilt, was so hungry for a chance to let his weighty heart breathe, even if it meant dying in the process.

At least this way, he'll finally do something right. At least this way, Mystra will forgive him, and all his friends will survive.

Gale: After I was afflicted with my condition, I locked myself in my tower for an entire year. I was inconsolable, wallowing in my self-inflicted tragedy. I'd given up on myself.

As a byproduct of people pleasing, Gale, too, is all too quick to accept all guilt. He self-deprecates, gaslights himself to a venomous degree, and twists his reality in so cruel a way as to make him the villain Mystra'd led him to believe. He self-flagellates himself, the first one in the world who will throw Gale of Waterdeep a mental punishment. Mystra's a goddess, after all, seen as utterly faultless, and twined so tightly with a being so mighty in esteem, Gale slipped into the role of the guilty often. When tied with anyone with grandeur like this, so immeasurable in their own self worth, it's important to keep in mind this: you are nothing but a prop in which to fulfill their ego. Gale was not Mystra's, not by a long shot. Rather, Gale was a tool, simply her mortal extension.

And he took every blow meant for her... a common and terrible habit for many people in imbalanced, ego-fueled relationships.

Gale's life beyond her wasn't something that interested her. She took most of Gale's devotion, manipulated his life to be her sole mantle of attention, for Mystra is not a goddess that shares very happily.

Indeed, long before his self-imposed isolation, this jealous deity did well at keeping him isolated.

Player Character: Picture kissing him. With tenderness. Then, with passion. Gale: I... I didn't think— Narrator: You perceive quick-fire embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.

And so, cheated out of love, so reduced in his value as a man and lover both, suffice to say, Gale's slow to believe he can ever be loved. That's what happens when you're with someone so cold, consistent only in their infinite lack of respect. Gale looks at fondness, and he feels—confounded, to be sure. He thinks, is this truly mine to have? He doesn't know what to do, is nearly forty in game, and despite having lived decades devoted to one relationship, he feels, at the same time, entirely out of depth. To be frank, he greets it with embarrassment, like he's been caught red handed with something not his at all. He's like a child caught rummaging with his hand in a cookie jar, all this isn't mine to enjoy, not mine to indulge in, but he thinks, startled, but god, do I want. He wars with disbelief, uncertainty, and need, and in so many ways feeling utterly starved, with just a glimmer of affection, he falls fast into love.

Scenario: (And if properly romanced, it changes his world.)

Gale: In her (Mystra's) likeness, I used to read a thousand stories. She was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes. But now... it is hard to see any redeeming qualities in a lover who condemned you to death. I'd much rather gaze into your eyes than hers. Yours are capable of tenderness and feeling... No god could ever compare.

He says it with sincerity. There is such wonder, such love, and such awe in his eyes. He makes the act of kissing him feel like you've just reached into the trenches to but pluck him soundly from his ruin and despair. You think, Gale Dekarios, how unloved have you been all this time?

Gale: To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command… none have loved me so purely before.

The answer is: entirely.

For so long, Gale thought love was simply being chosen. He knew nothing of being favored for the quality of his character, to be cherished and accepted even in those ways he fumbles and lacks. Again, his needs were seldom met, often treated with utter indifference by Mystra herself, and to meet someone so eager to treasure him, dote on him in a way his heart, his body is somberly new to, raptures his spirit and captures his soul. He's seen for who he is. He's... loved, desired for his silly quips, his easy smiles, and his growing affections. He bares himself to them, and in turn, they cradle his heart like something entirely precious. Gale thinks this has to be dream. He says, at times, you are more than I deserve.

Scenario: (But sometimes, he hopes too strongly and loves too greatly. As it always does, then, like he's once more wanted too much, he watches something beautiful slip right through his fingers. Of course, Gale Dekarios. Of course it does.)

Player Character: I didn't know you felt so strongly, Gale. Gale: Perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach... but I was only myself, and sometimes that isn't enough.

They don't love him anymore. It breaks his heart. He hurts so much, so profoundly and deeply, and he doesn't realize that he breaks their heart in turn.

Unable to ever voice his feelings with Mystra in any way that amounted to much, Gale's a tendency to wallow, expressions coming off as potentially 'guilt-tripping' and even, on occasion, passive aggressive. Firstly: Gale NEVER means to manipulate emotions, and he's no intention of twisting anyone's arm, either. Fact is, Gale, never taken seriously when he'd bared his vulnerabilities to the Mother of the Weave, can end up saying just a little too much. He feels very deeply, and for most his life, seldom had an outlet for these weeping sentiments. He sometimes lets slip raw words and oftentimes heart-wrenching expressions; all the same, it's not so pitiful as to shepherd an outcome, but rather, is a gesture taken by a man so desperate to be heard. It may feel like scheming, but the truth is far, far greyer: feeling as though he's no right to share the depth of his heart, Gale simply lets it geyser out in a way he can't cork up. In ways he doesn't realize, he's adapted to this ache, passively reacting so his feelings can at least be seen and recognized—no matter how pitifully unwhole. With someone who values so little his thoughts... well, when he slips into these moods, one can hardly feign shock.

Situation: (And if no one shows him trust and tenderness, any true care in his character or worth, Gale gets swallowed up by how wronged he was.

He thinks: Let me be a god. Let no one hurt like me anymore.)

Gale: They only want us to serve them, pray to them...and ultimately, to die for them. But what if we didn't need them? What if we wielded their power instead and helped ourselves in all the ways they refuse to? I could make that happen.

Gale is not above anger, and as stated, he is not above pettiness; however, more than that, he is not above righting himself whatever wound he was struck. Gale, if not offered much by ways of affection, understanding, is made to believe that one idea that's lived growing in his mind: Gale Dekarios is far from sufficient; he has to be more. He has to be better. Gale, in such an unkind ending for himself, sips too desperately—and perhaps greedily, too, but desperately serves as a far better word—at that idea that he needs power. And so, wresting the Crown of Karsus for himself, he spites Mystra in his own way, becoming a god he feels is leagues better than she will ever be. Damn her thoroughly. Damn her ego, her power, and her endless indifference. He will serve the people, protect them, and in ways Mystra never could, better the world.

Situation: But as a god, he loses all sense of his kindness. Humanity. All who loved him leave him, and even Tara spurns the image he's become. With power, he's gained the respect he thought he always wanted... but in turn, he lost in even greater measure all the love he's known.

Endnote: But healing, knowing to forgive himself and knowing he's deserving of care simply for being Gale Dekarios will remain, always, the best path for him.

#HEADCANON.#Oh... anyway. This. Was. A lot.#And it was a lot for me mentally and emotionally to write.#So much of this hit home.#Gale isn't perfect. He can be petty and immature—a byproduct of not being all too good at venting his frustrations when #it gets to a point. He has very bad self esteem. He is not forgiving of himself and is too forgiving of Mystra.#He endured FOR DECADES the cold indifference of a goddess he called his lover.#I know people dog on him because he's a grown man with these hurts and traumas and responses #but just because his trauma manifested in ways you don't find palatable or hot or sexy #doesn't mean they aren't scars left by trauma buddy!!!#And quite frankly that bit about God Gale sounding vindictive and angry #yeah! SOMETIMES people who have so cold and uncaring and belittling a partner #end up angry. You shoved someone into a corner and hounded them for SO LONG. Don't start crying when they rear back on you and bite #I have a deep connection with godhood Gale. But obviously a healed Gale that finds love and acceptance in himself is so much healthier.#I'm rooting for you Gale (always).#So much of this was typed up with a lot of first hand experience so... to say this was a Gale exploration #as much as a way to navigate my own trauma is an apt one.#No two tales of abuse are alike of course. Gale's experience isn't my experience. But I can sympathize a great deal.#TL;DR: This meta post means a lot to me. K. Thanks.

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dawnstruck · 6 months

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a traveler's shade

In his pursuit of Mizu, Taigen finally makes it to London as well. He ends up learning more than he bargained for.

Tags: Post-S1, Spoilers for S1, prediction/wishfulfillment for S2, Mizu/Taigen, female-identifying Mizu, WIP, 1/3 chapters

Chapter 1

年暮ぬ another year is gone 笠きて草鞋 a traveler's shade on my head, はきながら straw sandals at my feet Matsuo Bashō, 1685

London is a miserable place, covered in fog and soot and shit, the sky constantly overcast.

Taigen has been here for a week, and not seen the sun a single day. Most of the time, it has been raining too, turning the smaller roads into rivers of mud and sewage. The main streets are decked out in uneven cobblestone that become dangerously slippery in the damp. He has already had to exchange his wooden geta for softer zōri sandals, to avoid making an ass of himself.

It’s bad enough that people are staring at him wherever he goes; he doesn’t need them to take him for a fool as well as a foreigner.

Is this how Mizu feels, he wonders, each prodding gaze like pinpricks on his skin. He hears people whispering to each other, laughing sometimes, but he knows only a handful of words in their confounding language. Are they insulting him, ridiculing him, or do his paranoid ears just misinterpret the gibberish?

Round eyes, wherever he looks, always already staring back at him, so he keeps his back straight and his gait steady, and silently dares anyone to openly challenge him.

What would he do if they did, he wonders, with his hands on the heft of his broken sword. He may be a master of the blade, but what good will it do him here, where men carry revolvers concealed in their jackets. He has seen what a bullet can do to even the sharpest of katana, and he does not wish to experience what it would feel like to have one ripping into his flesh.

It’s a small mercy that, unlike Japan, the island of England has not closed its borders. In fact, they have done the very opposite, sending their ships and their guns into the rest of the world. After all, the greed of the white man knows no bounds.

As such, while Kyoto has always had something of a butterfly to it - beautiful and delicate and each part lovingly crafted - London is more of a centipede: a squirming, restless mass of feet, dark and disgusting and poorly fitting together.

But it also means that, while Taigen sticks out like a sore thumb in his uwagi and hakama, he is by far not the only foreigner to walk these streets. The port in particular had been swarming with people of all sorts, some of whom Taigen would have mistaken for old wives’ tales not so long ago.

He has seen tall strong men with faces as dark as coal and hair as coarse as wire brushes. He had watched a small group of people disembark a ship, whose skin was smooth like brass and who clad themselves in garments of leather, with feathers woven into their long braids. Once or twice, Taigen had caught the eye of such a stranger and felt a peculiar sense of kinship with them.

I, too, am far from home, he wanted to say. I, too, feel like a mute child on these unfamiliar shores.

Continue reading on Ao3

#Blue Eye Samurai #BES #Spoilers #Mizu/Taigen #Mizu #Taigen #Mizugen #Taizu

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alexanderlightweight · 2 months

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Hey, hoping you and your loved ones are doing well and that you are regaining your strength and health. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. This is me sending virtual hugs :)

Thank you!!!!

Anon this made me feel so much better about things recently I really appreciate you!

Also just; you and everyone on tumblr hs been so amazing and nice and understanding. I appreciate all of you, my ao3 has been getting a lot of commands about updates and I’m just… I want to update too! I write every day in my head. Im just typically wiped out after but I’ve stabilized enough in PT that we don’t have to do it as often. So i won’t be a turtle rolled on its back when I got home from it as much.

I got a lot sick due to being around a group of traveling, germ collecting niblings a few months ago. Since i hadn’t recovered from Covid (kept getting small illnesses). What followed was me finally getting into a few appointments I’d been waitlisted for months on. So I’ve been doing some hard core physical therapy and some other stuff to try and get my health back up.

@queensaryn aka Saeth’s fibro got fucked up with Covid and they’ve barely managed to leave the house twice a month (even just to sit in the car while I get groceries) but they’re also improving albeit slowly. We have to be careful with their goals and limits. Basically they have to be treated like an overripe peach or a plum blossom, or baby strawberries.

Very delicate.

The rest of the house recovered faster but they still have some long Covid symptoms like us and it’s been hard for everyone. Months past and sometimes one of us will still get taken by surprise when the lingering affects hit us.

But we’re getting better! Sorry if that seemed pessimistic, it’s been exhausting, but I’m definitely finally getting stronger. It does seem like every time I make two steps forward we find something else wrong and I go 1-3 steps back but after three years of fighting I’m getting help for some old injuries and damage.

Just last night I was plotting out a scene in ‘a craft of adoration’ that I can’t wait to actually type out. So thank you again for the encouragement, it makes me want to push through because I really love writing. And it’s a lot more encouraging then some very backhanded compliments and demands for updates on ao3.

Which tbf, they probs don’t know I’m sick and have been struggling but I’m already fighting so hard to get better that it gets discouraging. So thank you for lifting my spirits!

And thank you to everyone else who has sent me and the House well wishes if they happen to see this. My inbox is a little bursting rn with prompts so I tend to get distracted very easily when I try to look through it.

Sending virtual hugs back and lots of Nightshade cuddles!

I will say that the Abyss and Nightshade have both been incredibly cuddly since I got sick. Nightshade throws a tantrum if anyone in the House so much as sneezes. He is horrified by the thought of any one getting sick again

💜 lumine

#lumine talks to ppl #lumine answers asks

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writing-with-sophia · 8 months

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Hello!

Hope you are doing fine. I had a question about writing:

How do you create a redemption arc for villain without glorifying the villain/ excuse them for their horrible past action? I really wish I could do some fanfic about redemption villain/character, but I'm always scare that I do it the wrong way.

Thank you and have a cool day 🌼!

Redemption arc for villain

Do not be afraid! I've read a lot of fanfics about redemption for villains, and I find that people in my community take them very well. So write down what you want. (However, there is a slight problem. I have never written a story involving redemption for a villain, so this article will be based on reference only and what I think is possible.)

Creating a redemption arc for a villain without glorifying or excusing their past actions can be a delicate and challenging task. Here are some guidelines to consider when crafting a redemption arc for a character:

Establish Accountability: It's important to acknowledge and address the character's past actions and the harm they caused. Show that the character takes responsibility for their actions and understands the consequences of their behavior. Avoid portraying an unrealistic and sudden shift in the character's personality or beliefs. Redemption should be earned and grounded in believable character development. Ensure that the changes they undergo are consistent with their backstory, motivations, and the challenges they face.

Genuine Change: The redemption arc should involve genuine growth and transformation in the character. They should demonstrate a sincere desire to change and make amends, not just for personal gain or to manipulate others.

Internal Struggle: Portray the internal conflict within the character as they grapple with their past actions and strive to overcome their flaws. Show their genuine remorse, guilt, and the emotional weight of their past deeds. Show the conflicts between their old ways and their newfound desire to be better. This adds depth to their journey and makes their redemption more compelling.

Earn Forgiveness: Redemption should not come easily or quickly. The character should face challenges, skepticism, and resistance from those they harmed or the wider community. The process of earning forgiveness should be gradual and earned through consistent positive actions. Portray the character actively working to rebuild trust with those they have hurt. This involves consistent actions and behaviors that demonstrate their change and willingness to make amends.

Positive Actions and Redemption Journey: Focus on the character's actions in the present and how they actively work to make things right and contribute positively to the world. Show their growth, empathy, and efforts to repair relationships or help others. Create situations that allow the character to learn from their past actions and grow. Provide opportunities for them to demonstrate the lessons they have learned and apply them in meaningful ways. You can also incorporate symbolic acts or gestures that represent the character's transformation or atonement. These acts can have a profound impact on the character themselves and those around them, further solidifying their redemption.

Consequences and Sacrifice: Highlight the character's willingness to face the consequences of their actions and make sacrifices to atone for their past deeds. This can demonstrate the sincerity of their redemption and the lengths they are willing to go to make things right.

Complex Characterization: Develop the character as multidimensional, with strengths, weaknesses, and internal struggles. Avoid simplifying them into a purely heroic figure but rather create a nuanced portrayal that reflects the complexities of human nature.

Learning from mistakes: Show how the character learns from their past mistakes and actively works to prevent others from following the same path. This can involve using their experiences to guide and mentor others, or taking actions that promote positive change in the world.

External Validation: While redemption is primarily an internal journey, it can be reinforced through the recognition and support of other characters who genuinely acknowledge the character's growth and positive actions. Introduce supportive characters who believe in the character's capacity for change, challenge them when necessary, and provide guidance and encouragement along the way. Ensure they have their own reactions, feelings, and growth in response to the villain's redemption. Neglecting the perspectives of other characters can make the arc feel one-sided or unrealistic.

Realistic and Challenging Journey: Ensure that the redemption arc is portrayed as a challenging and ongoing process. It should not be too easily achieved or presented as a quick fix. Emphasize that growth and change require time, effort, and consistent commitment. One common pitfall is rushing the redemption process, where a villain suddenly changes their ways without sufficient development or justification. It's important to allow the redemption arc to unfold gradually and realistically, showing the character's growth and transformation over time.

Empathy and Understanding: Offer insights into the villain's backstory, motivations, and underlying reasons for their actions. This helps readers develop empathy and understanding for the character while not excusing their past behavior. It adds depth and complexity to their redemption arc.

Growth Beyond Redemption: While redemption is a significant part of the character's journey, ensure that their development extends beyond it. Allow them to have goals, dreams, and motivations that go beyond their redemption, making them well-rounded and dynamic characters.

Remember that a well-executed redemption arc requires careful planning, character development, and consideration of the story's themes and overall narrative. It should feel earned, authentic, and contribute to the story's emotional resonance. Approach the subject with sensitivity and respect for the gravity of the character's past deeds and the potential impact of their redemption on the story and its themes.

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

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flowersforchoso · 5 months

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Intro dialogues w/ mk1 male characters

background: fei is an oc and a chloromancer which means, she's a practitioner of plant magic. these are intro dialogues with the men of mortal kombat 1. ranging from friendly, flirty, subtextual romance to animosity.

sub-zero: you're as delicate as a rose

fei: wait till you see my deadly thorns

sub-zero: i do not wish to fight you

fei: are you conceding defeat already?

fei: i have immense respect for you but i wont stand down

sub-zero: a fatal mistake

fei: you have something against me. what is it?

smoke: i- well...

fei: you find me alluring?

smoke: your powers are

smoke: you'd fit right in with the shirai-ryu

fei: a compliment, but i doubt it

fei: for the last time johnny, its a no.

johnny cage: wait. i just wanna ask for gardening tips

johnny cage: you could be the leading lady in a movie. just let me contact my agent

fei: i'm not interested in your proclivities

johnny cage: i've been thinking about going vegetarian

fei: this concerns me how?

havik: you're pathetic and weak

fei: a baseless assumption you'd soon come to regret

havik: chaos is order, beauty is oppression

fei: you gain converts by spouting such nonsense?

havik: when order has been replaced by chaos, you'll be by my side

fei: keep your delusions to yourself, havik

shang tsung: your powers would be beneficial

fei: i won't be subject to your sick experiments, sorcerer

shang tsung: when i say join me, i'm being diplomatic

fei: never! not even in my death

fei: how do you live with yourself?

shang tsung: *laughs* its all too easy

reptile: i've- i've never met someone like you

fei: is that a good thing or a bad thing?

fei: you bleed green?

reptile: does that terrify you?

reptile: have you ever heard of the kytinn?

fei: yes. they're truly... bizarre

fei: you're so different from your brother

kuai liang: sharing blood is where our similarities begin and end

fei: how is young hanzo doing?

kuai liang: very well.

kuai liang: you still trust bi-han? after everything he's done?

fei: not trust. more so, understand his perspective.

general shao: i'll trample upon your vines and thorns so scamper.

fei: if raiden can take you down, then i can

general shao: your kind should not be in battle

fei: care to explain further, general?

fei: i must admit, you're terrifying

general shao: *laughs* and you still choose to proceed, woman?

fei: crafting a world and maintaining it must be tedious

liu kang: a price for the greater good

liu kang: don't overwork yourself

fei: thanks. i'll try not to

liu kang: its regrettable. what we've become

fei: i'd rather not dwell on it

kung lao: you and lord liu kang were a thing?

fei: how- how did you know of this?

fei: your ego will soon be your demise

kung lao: doubt it. its one of my greatest assets

kung lao: i'm single y'know

fei: tell that to someone who cares

reiko: liu kang is not gonna save ya

fei: i'm more than capable of holding my own

fei: basking in the glory of war makes one inhuman

reiko: keep your sanctimonious drivel where the sun doesn't shine

fei: you're no soldier, you're a criminal

reiko: and what does that make you? a sheltered brat

fei: the way tarkat holds you hostage worries me

baraka: i do not need your pity

baraka: i'm sure my mere presence sickens you

fei: don't assume such baraka.

baraka: my ilk are treated worse than dogs

fei: its terrible. they deserve better

fei: you have alot of luck on your side with that amulet

raiden: *laughs* even without it, i'm formidable

fei: confidence is not pride. gladly wear it

raiden: i suppose. old habits do die hard

raiden: you're like mother nature herself

fei: *laughs* i'm nothing but a custodian

fei: how are you so bereft of principles despite being a high mage?

rain: don't speak on things you do not know of

fei: its comical that you run with a tail between your legs afterwards

rain: i'm not above seeking repentance

rain: my storm will wash away your plants

fei: water only fosters nature.

fei: i've never faced a blind swordsman

kenshi: it'll be your first and last encounter

fei: is it possible for others to control sento?

kenshi: try it. the anticipation is killing me

kenshi: i was in the yakuza once.

fei: so you admit to having blood on your hands

fei: what does the future hold for me?

geras: that, i cannot say

fei: being only a construct must be a terrible fate

geras: why do you presume so?

geras: just as the stars are infinite, so are the grains of sand

fei: proverbial. but where are you going with this?

#mortal kombat 1 #sub-zero #scorpion #smoke #kenshi takahashi #reiko #johnny cage #geras #rain #raiden #liu kang #kung lao #baraka #general shao #havik #reptile #bi han #kuai liang #tomas vrbada

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ceruleancattail · 1 year

Note

WHY HELLO THERE- cough- Hey hi hello its me, Mrs Leech, and im here to make a predictable request !! Fluff + Established relationship: i look after my flowers and Jade has his mushrooms and terrariums, so i have to know what it'd be like for me and my silly mershroom to do our gardening chores and scheduled things together,, maybe even writing down how to take care of each others plants/fungi for when one of us is too busy,, also i'd totally join his club because i love to sketch scenery, plus hiking would be nice and relaxing for me since i enjoy being around him (ps.bonus points if the reader isn't MC/Yuu/Ramshackle Perfect)

Oh my goodness the @twistedchatterboxed in my inbox? An honour-

Coming right up, Mrs Leech!

Jade Leech with an s/o who gardens!

Jade Leech x reader

Jade’s glad. A shared hobby with his beloved. Well, one may argue that flowers and fungi are nothing alike. Yet both sprout from the Earth, do they not? A thousand different species, each with their unique charms.

Mushrooms grow in the dark, rising from rotting corpses. Almost like a phoenix, no? Caps of red, brown and white, facing up to the world courageously. They creep up in the shadows, slowly but surely. Dark knights, slowly consuming whatever remains of their hosts. He’s rather fond of his mushrooms.

Yet if his mushrooms were the knights, your flowers were the maidens of old. Sprouting from small, delicate seeds, their stems pierce through soil, reaching for the sun. Leaves unfolding like hands in prayer, their buds blossoming with all the grace of a lady in court, they shine brilliantly. Drawing all eyes to their petals, their blooming flowers.

Those very same petals can be crushed into tea. The last cup of tea you’ll ever have. Needless to say, Jade’s enchanted by your collection. You two spend hours in the botanical garden, sharing about the latest additions to the collection.

Sunlight streams through the glass, fragmenting it into every colour of the rainbow, dancing around the garden. A breathtaking scene, if Jade says so himself.

His beloved, brows frowned in concentration. Leaning over their plants, carefully pruning the flowers, bit by bit. Soil clung to their fingertips, sweat blistering like pearls on their skin. Surrounded by the angelic light of the sun…

Well, you do look rather gorgeous, if he does say so himself.

Date nights are spent together, both of you pouring over your schedules, highlighters in hand. Crafting together a timetable of sorts, to ensure that both the fungi and plants have sufficient care. Jade does draw, little doodles swarming his side of the timetable. Mushrooms, with dotted caps growing out of the lines.

In retaliation, you draw on flowers. Each one picked out for their specific meaning. Pink Camellias blooming at the edges; longing for you.

Gardenias in a line under his name; You’re lovely.

Baby’s breath dotted throughout the paper; Everlasting love.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #jade #twst jade #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #lucky charm🔹

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oceanlipgloss · 2 months

Text

VALENTINE

ELIGOS.

+ no warnings.

+ female mc, feminine pronouns, hints of female mc’s official appearance.

An arts and crafts project of her very own.

An eyeshadow palette on the vanity, scissors in her hand, pink ribbons on the floor. And his adorable smile, of course, reflected in the mirror.

He looked so cute. Like a little present.

Ribbons were once tied in bows around his horns and clothes. Same old, same old—but then she thought, why not change that just a little on this chocolate-sweet day?

When red paint and pink paint are mixed together, they swirl into a color akin to magenta. The pink he likes comes to life from a drop of magenta—or perhaps strawberry-red—and a dollop of cream-white. But aren't cherries and Red Delicious apples the actual color of Valentine's?

That's why ribbons dripped from a lacquer box, all red, pretty and shiny. The crimson sheen of them made him wonder: was that why had she led him by his pale shoulders to the golden vanity? Better yet, was he going to get lots of pampering?!

Warm fingers stroked his hair. Compliments sprinkled themselves over his head. Made him feel giddy. And then those fingers were untying bows from black locks, sliding ribbons down white strands.

Horns for last!

Red ribbons twirled around her pale fingers, limited their movement; she avoided touching his horns as best as she could, however. It's nice to keep things innocent for once—sweet and childlike!

These short dark bones were such sensitive things, though, for even the caress of soft fabric against them made his body stiffen. And contact was ever inevitable—so when his short horns and her delicate fingers eventually met in the lightest of brushes, a shiver rippled under his porcelain skin.

Every time a pink ribbon fell to the ground, instead of it a red one got tied into a bow.

Snip, snip, snip! Scissors cut away any offending strings. Sunshine fell on his hair and made red velvet shimmer like rubies.

Minutes ago she was thinking about how precious he looked with his pink ribbons, blushing cheeks and childish smile, but right now she almost felt like she would eat him up as though he were just a tiny piece of heart candy. Red complimented his rosy happiness so prettily.

Just like a doll.

She had told him that in the human world, red was the color of love, and the color of Valentine's, the day of love.

That had to mean...that she loved him!

Happy. He felt happy.

As he watched her dip a soft brush in metallic red, he found himself thinking that white ribbons would look lovely in her violet hair.

The fine bristles felt softer than a dream against his skin. And a bit ticklish. He giggled. It was hard to stay still, but he knew it was important for perfect results, so he did.

Scarlet spread over the little bows on his shoulder. And since this was not only for artistic purposes—but also a message of endearment—she might as well also 'paint' the ones on his leg. So, she knelt before him and did just that.

With every tiny bow colored, she pressed a soft kiss to his skin and gifted him a compliment—didn't stop even when he already had a whole heart-shaped box of them that overflowed and dropped the sugary candies to the ground.

Finally, her hands reached towards the great pink knot about his waist. She would now sew red velvet to another one of his outfits, because the ribbons and colors must all match, no?

+ MASTERLIST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

#whb #what in “hell” is bad #what in hell is bad #whb eligos #the story factory

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cupidsdescendant · 9 months

Text

"Teufelstanz" Medic X Y/N (SMUT)

He waltzed alone, his feet slowly glided on the smooth marble of the medbay. The muffled sound of Al Bowlly's "Midnight The Stars And You" played from the outside but inside it was like a ballroom, and Medic was the star of it. As an old man, reminiscing his younger days when he was still in school filled him with sweet melancholy. Medic had needed a break from such an exhausting day, taking care of the mercenaries had sucked all the life out of him. Having this moment for himself meant the world. Piles of dusty vinyls were piled on top of his paperwork, and a huge record player sat on his office chair. Young Medic was an outcast. He didn't have many friends or lovers despite how handsome he was, he kept to himself and found comfort in isolation in a world of war and destruction. Medic let his fingertips dance with the piano in the background and followed along. He kept his eyes shut, he knew where he was going. His mind slowly wandered from being in the cold room to back at his school's prom, everyone stared and awed at his movement, how slow and delicate they were. With years of bullying everyone believed he was a sporadic freak but that night everyone was proven very, very wrong. He owned that dance floor for those last hours and had everyone starstruck with the talent he possessed.

And there he was, at the climax of his dance, the ending that would bring a raging encore- a small knock interrupted. "Who IS it?" He opened his eyes quickly and straightened his back. His fists tightened into a frustrated ball as he tilted his head to the silent door. "Hey, Doc" Y/N's sweet voice responded with, "You told me that I had a checkup?" Medic's eyes widened and his mouth turned into an irritated frown. He looked over to the clock showing that the hours had passed and it is, indeed time for Y/N's checkup. "I know it's late but, I mean that's when you told me to come. It's totally fine if you can't have me right now, I can wait tomorrow-"

"You can come in, Y/N" Medic said endearingly. Without the knowledge of Y/N he was rolling his eyes agitatedly.

"Relax jour knee." Medic kneeled one leg down and kept his other up. He slouched over with an arthroscope to your exposed legs. He tapped your knee with the arthroscope twice and grabbed his clipboard, writing his results down. "How long have we been doing this?" Y/N said as she fiddled her thumbs together. "About 15 minutes." "And when do you think it'll end?" Medic gave a slightly annoyed glare to the chatty girl. "When jou stop talking." His shoulder twitched as if he was brushing something off and walked away from Y/N to the operating table. He took out a sheet and laid it down, smoothing it out and opening a bag of new, clean utensils. Y/N stared around quietly, slightly embarrassed at his response. Her eyes landed on his cramped desk filled with his vinyls and other papers. She smiled a little "Someone had a dance party." she added a small chuckle to her witty remark. "Nein." He replied, trying to give as little emotion as possible. "Well you sure were dancing for a while" Medic shot his head back to find Y/N standing up, running her hands through the vinyls and shuffling through the covers "You have great taste, Mr.Ludwig." She cocked her head back to see a tense Medic. His shoulders raised and his hands less relaxed than they were before. His face reddened, red as his gloves and looked away. "Zhat's...Medic to you, and Danke schön. "AI Bowlly's work is...beautiful" Y/N pulled up his "Sweet As a Song" album. "His song crafting is immaculate. ...I didn't know jou had such a keen eye-" He said adjusting his glasses and letting the glare slightly hit off. The air was silent for a minute but then, Y/N broke it with a soft hum. She continues it and followed along with singing the lyrics to Blue Hawaii.

"Dreams come true in Blue Hawaii,"

"And mine could all come true this magic night of nights with you"

Her singing wasn't the most beautiful in the world but she didn't sound bad. A little flat, but she was human. The authenticity of it all made up for it. Medic looked over to Y/N's back and his lips parted, eager to yell and scream how excited he was to find another person that loved the same artist as him but he let her continue, staying silent. She could feel him looking at her. She could feel him in awe. She opened her mouth but before she could speak Medic's voice had sung back in response. "Come with me while the moon is on the sea" Medic's boots followed from behind, the clomping of them alerting Y/N that the man was about to be inches away from her. Y/N's heart sunk in anticipation and she laid the vinyl back onto the desk. She looked down to her feet and held her hands together, her lips parting once she couldn't hear his boots. Y/N let Medic sing, "The night is young and so are we" he cooed, a tiny ring echoed in her ears indicating that he was right behind her. "So are we...." Y/N she sang back. She felt her cheeks become hot, unbearably hot when she felt the man's hand brush up against her. He rested it on the table and Y/N held her breath for a second before taking a deep breath in, realizing her anxiety. "And mine could all come true," "this magic night of nights with you" They caroled together, and a loud snort broke the intimacy. Y/N roared in laughter and looked back to a flushed Medic, her face full of joy. "My god!" She yipped out. "That was absolutely, positively angelic, Mr.Ludwig!" She gripped the straps of his shirt and pushed him closer to her face. She looked longingly into his eyes and grinned "You sure did give it your all, did you?" Medic's face, still extremely flushed let out a chuckle. His lips quivered and he readjusted his glasses once again (he does it when he's anxious) "Vell...I guess I did, haha-...Jou was beautiful yourself." He put his hand on Y/N's back and learned in. The both bathed in their eyes and a small grin crept onto Medic's face. "How...how about we finish that checkup, hm?" He pulled her by her hand and a small "Oh!" fell accidentally out of her mouth. Y/N had followed Medic's steps and they both danced their way over to the operating table, with a final spin and the room full of giggles Y/N laid down. "What are you going to do now?" She said cooingly, resting her hand on her chest and looking up at him. Medic took his gloves off and washed his hands thoroughly in the sink. "Well..." he said as he dried his hands off "We must make sure you're internal organs are okay." "What does that mean?" She questioned. He slid a chair to the corner of the table where Y/N's torso lay and he rested his hands on where her lower pelvis. "I must do a pelvic exam. Ve want to make sure jou're healthy under there, no?" He turned his hand into your inner thigh and bit his lip, releasing it and smiling innocently at her. "It won't hurt at all. Now are jou ready?" Y/N's heartbeat sunk and her breath quickened, all of the nerves in her body had a sudden physical rush of heat and she looked deeply into Medic's taunting blue eyes. "Is this...really needed.?" She protested. He let a loud roar of amusement out and sweetly stared at her, "Fräulein, it would be in both of our best interests to know you're in good shape." She stared at him from the operation table as she felt his hands trace her hip bones and her stomach “I promise it won’t hurt.” A smirk was raised from his mouth. “Now could you take your pants off?”

She fumbled her button and unzipped her zipper, from the angle her pants had gotten stuck to her thighs. Medic chuckles and grabbed the denim that covered her ankles. “Here, I can help with that.” Quickly, he pulled them off leaving Y/N flushed, the shock of it coming off so fast and the coldness of the room had left her shaking. Her eyes had shut as she held herself, her hands moving up her forearms and shoulders trying to keep herself warm. She felt a cold finger curl up against her panties, leaving a small gap exposed. Y/N opened her eyes to find medics' index finger, eagerly waiting to slide her panties off. “Do you mind?” He said amorously. She nodded and the undoing of her panties had left her bare and cold. Medic grabbed her knee and pulled it up “It’s okay, Fräulein. There’s no reason to be tense.” But there was. She was soaking at this point. She could feel herself throbbing already, she was limp from her knees down. She was holding herself but her nipples were rock hard. It was embarrassing and perverted knowing how his fingers will enter her but “just for an examination…” so why did she feel this way? "If it'll help you, I suggest taking a deep breath." His eyes were gentle and he seemed remarkably calm. Y/N followed his instructions and on the count of 3 inside her head she took a deep breath, letting the cold air itch her nose. She clenched her body and let out a stunned gasp as his fingers entered her, pushing up against her pelvis and curling inside. "That's it, there we go..." Medic gave out a tiny scoff and his cheeks reddened, his index and middle finger turned to the corner and nudged her a few times, forcing Y/N's grasp to strengthen. "I'm very surprised, Fräulein...you didn't need any lubricant." He extended his thumb and it pinched down onto Y/N's clit. "Doctor-!" She screamed out loud, and she slammed her hand onto Medic's shoulder, arousing the man further and him rubbing his thumb over her clit faster, pulling it gently down and up. His fingers moved back and forth, letting the sounds fill the room and take over. Pushing his thumb and moving her clit up Y/N's shortened breath stopped as she released a built-up tension and came into his hands. She gave out a long-winded whimper, Medic looking at her pooched lips and her heavy eyes. "Hm...seems like you're quite healthy."

He took two fingers and opened her lips, letting her cum pour slowly out of her. "Fräulein...say, have you been having any difficulties with...arousal?" His eyes glanced up in a sort of predator way, ready to pounce on her. "A bi-it" she said, mustering the courage to reply. "Well then...how about we try another test?" He smiled, exposing his sharp teeth. Pushing her legs on top of his shoulders, he grabbed the insides of her thighs and pulled Y/N close into his grasp, leaning in and almost suffocating her with how big he is. His bulge rubbed against her exposed parts and Y/N felt something wet on the side of her neck. She clenched her hands onto Medic's back as she felt his tongue glaze the part of her neck that connects to her shoulders, she was to her breaking point. "are jou ready?" hi everyone ^w^ this was in my drafts for MONTHS. I had a very busy summer so i meant to get it done early but now that i finally finished I'm ready to take on requests :D hope you enjoY!!!

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 medic #fanfiction #team fortress medic #tf2 medic x reader #medic x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you

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cinnamonspicevanilla · 4 months

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"in what way do you express coquette?"

(a tag to talk about our inspirations, icons, basics and blueprints)

what are your main inspirations and in what way do you express your personal concept of coquette?

꩜ im a huge vintage girly, i grew up loving old movies and style, so i took a lot of inspiration from movie actresses and their characters, specially from exploitation or avant-garde movies from the 60s and 70s and cool girls that i saw on 90s tv shows, i would say that 50% of my personal style (that covers not only the way i dress, but also decor and lifestyle) stems from that, the other half ot it is influenced by my passion for gothic motifs, music and literature, which includes religious imagery, statues, a darker color palette, flowers (specially those saw on funerals) and the whole haunted aspect, that i like to mix with more delicate and feminine details to resemble a creepy, almost uncanny doll.

꩜ all those things help me to craft my perfect coquette look, that i would put on the coquette noir category. is also very inspired by aspects of my personality, which i consider to be sullen, sardonic and kind of mysterious but also very sweet, i think this goes too well with the mix of edgy with femininity.

what media and people directly influence your look and lifestyle?

꩜ some of my favorite media that inspires me in the way i dress (also some personal philosophy) are movies like la ceremonie, as meninas, marie poupee, daisies, la belle personne, heavenly creatures, ms. 45, trashy europeans erotic films from the 70s and basically every godard movie from the 60s.

꩜ figures like tina aumont, anna karina, isabelle huppert, faye wong, early 90s mariah carey, strawberry switchblade, rachel weisz, sherilyn fenn, sade adu, hope sandoval, lana del rey, ayo edebiri and françoise dorleac also are big icons to me.

finally, list some of your coquette basic staples.

꩜ i consider my basics to be denim, black or tartan miniskirts, thights (specially dark colored or printed with flowers), lace dark tops, chokers, necklaces with pendants, dark shoes such as boots, loafers and mary janes, mini dresses (either floral, tartan or plain black), lots of mascara with 90s lip combo, berry lipstick, nude or slightly dark eyeshadow,and obviously my fringe.

do it too!: @lovesickbrat @lonelystarlet @iridescentdarliing @dark-nymph3t @miss-mademoiselle and basically everyone that want it

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #coquette noir

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honoviadakai · 4 months

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What I think the Diaboys smell like: Mukami borthers edition

(CW: mentions of self harm in Azusa’s section and blood in all sections)

Ruki:

Top notes: old books, Tea, Herbs and spices

Bottom notes: Garlic, ink, charcoal

Ah yes

A refined smell from a refined man

This guy smells the least like a vampire

Like, the Mukami’s in general smell a tad more human than vampire, but Ruki smells the most human out of the 4 of them

And humans would never think he was a vampire based off smell alone anyway

Now in case you didn’t know, Ruki’s favorite food is soup

Why is that important?

Well it’s cuz ya boi smells vaguely of garlic, herbs and spices

Most people will believe he’s an Italian man before the idea of him being a vampire is on the table 😂

Tbh it works out in his favor and for this reason, he’s the most human passing out of all the boys

However he does give old man vibes

Why?

Cuz he smells like he works in a library that was built during ancient Roman times

He smells so concerningly of old books that I don’t blame anyone that assumes his skin is actually made of paper

He also smells like he bleeds tea

To be fair…he probably does

Caffeine doesn’t affect vampires in the same way it does humans so you bet your bottom dollar he’s drinking tea every chance he gets

You have no idea how happy he is that tea and coffee don’t give him heartburn or acid reflux anymore (╯ ‿ ╰,)

But he does go overboard with his drinking sometimes…Kou and Yuma had to hide some of his tea so he’s chill out a bit

That day, they learned that vampires can in fact go through nasty withdrawal symptoms…

Thankfully he was able to take his mind off of that with his hobbies!

He has a few but the ones he tends to do a lot , outside of reading, is calligraphy and drawing

He specifically loves using charcoal as his drawing material!

His dad used to take him out for walks and they’d draw some scenery together

His mother was the one to teach him calligraphy

Doing either of these two crafts helps him feel close to his parents again

So he’s grown to love the smell of the ink and charcoal on paper

Sometimes he gets so into his work that his nails and fingers turn black by the time he stops

His brothers can tease him all they want, but he doesn’t mind it at all

He used to get much dirtier as a child when he worked on his crafts

So having the ink and charcoal permeate his skin in both appearance and smell gives him a sense of pride

He thinks his parents would be proud of him too

Kou:

Top notes: lilies, Gucci A Chant for The Nymph Eau de Parfum, berries

Bottom notes: Vongole Bianco, Cats, blood

Omg this guy smells so nice

First of, he naturally smells like lilies

Those flowers naturally smell sweet but super subtle

He also isn’t allowed to eat lots of desserts sometimes so he found a loophole and eats a metric fuck ton of berries when his sweet tooth is acting up

He’s not picky about the kind of berries he munches on, he just wants them to be sweet enough to satisfy him

So he smells very much like the cast of the Strawberry Shortcake franchise

And to top it all off, ya boi has pretty good taste in perfume

His favorite perfume is Gucci A Chant for The Nymph Eau de Parfum

It’s a very sweet, clean smelling fragrance that he makes absolutely sure to buy every 6 months

So based off all that you’d assume he always smells nice right???

Well…not exactly

First off, he is a vampire now and he does drink blood sometimes

But he doesn’t even smell like blood because of his vampiric nature

He just claims that’s why he sometimes smells like blood because the real reason is kinda embarrassing

So he’s an idol right? Part of his job is to sign stacks and stacks of autographs

He’s gotten so many paper cuts that he just starts wearing gloves

He has very delicate skin for a vampire, not as delicate as someone else on this list but we’ll get to him

He also smells like cats

He just really likes them so sometimes he just goes to cat cafes and plays with them

He also brings in strays and takes care of them

He won’t force them to stay if they don’t want to but 9 time outta 10 they stay so he just kinda smells like his feline friends

This dude also smells of his favorite food, Vongole Bianco

If left unsupervised, he will eat 5 plates of the stuff and he will smell of the pasta dish for weeks

Not in a bad way, he’ll just smell like he recently has dinner XD

@magnificentkidclamclod and I also came to the conclusion that once in a blue moon, this man will smell like French fries

Why and why’s it so rare?

Well for one, he’s just a big fan of McDonald’s French fries as well as their sprite so he will get it every chance he gets

Now as for why he rarely has it, it’s because of his manager and Ruki

As an idol he’s expected to maintain a certain weight and figure so he’s been told not to eat fast food

When his manager catches him he’ll just scold him and give him a slap on the wrist

But if Ruki catches him…it’s on sight

If Ruki even catches a whiff of fries on Kou, he’s running at him at full speed with what we blunt object happens to be close by

Unfortunately for the other 3 brothers, Ruki is a bit of a health nut and bans fast food from the house

Kou suffers the most and Azusa is the only one who helps him sneak contraband into the house

Yuma is true neutral on this tbh

He has a garden so he doesn’t care 🤣

Kou and Azusa will share fries every weekend at the mall followed up by a trip to the spa to get rid of the smell

Yuma:

Top notes: Dirt, Sweat, Sugar

Bottom notes: Blood, Fennel, Neem oil

Man is a farmer to his very core!

Doesn’t matter if he’s human or vampire, he’s gonna be up at 4 in the morning tending to every single one of his crops

And his scent always reminds everyone of this

He smells of the earth he tends to every day

He smells of the sweat of hard days works

And he smells of the fruits and veggies he tends and harvests

This giant bear of a man is the poster child of a rugged country boy 🤠

He also smells pretty sweet!

He eats sugar cubes so often that everyone’s amazed he hasn’t gotten diabetes yet

He also smells of fennel and neem oil

Those are really good, natural bug repellents

He’ll eat the fennel to keep the mosquitoes off him

He doesn’t need to cuz mosquitoes tend to avoid vampires but he did this a lot when he was human and old habits die hard

He sprays neem oil on and around his crops to keep pests away

All of these smells permeate into his being and set the gold standard of what your big, strong country boy should smell like

There is one thing that kinda weirds humans out though

He smells a tad like blood

It’s no where near as bad as the Sakamakis or the Taukinamis

But it’s juuuuust strong enough that sometimes his classmates will stop and ask him if he’s feeling ok

Thankfully his country boy aesthetic can save him from suspicion

Sometimes he’ll show them a cut he got from when he tried to clean the shattered remains of a pot and they’ll immediately drop the issue

Of course the dude who tends crops is gonna smell like blood! Hard physical work makes you bleed sometimes!

That’s all it is right?

🙂

He’s lucky he’s got such a water tight excuse cuz when he does drink blood, he gets a bit messy

Thankfully he cleans up after himself right away

Azusa:

Top notes: Blood, Shichimi Togarashi, curry powder

Bottom notes: Rubbing alcohol, fresh bandages, leather

Oh Azusa…

You beautiful, precious little masochist…

This one is the least human passing of the Mukami brothers and it’s not too hard to see why…

First off, he smells like the inside of a hospital morgue 💀

He smells like rubbing alcohol, bandages and blood

The strongest smell being the blood…

And here’s the thing

It’s his own blood that people are usually smelling

Yeah, sometimes it’s someone else’s blood

But 9 times outta 10 he smells like blood because he gave himself a few fresh cuts

And it’s usually a concerningly large amount of blood

He has the most delicate skin out of all his brothers

I’m also convinced he might have been anemic when he was human and maybe even still is

So combine all that and Azusa is basically a gusher

Thankfully he always has bandages on him

Unfortunately he doesn’t do much to cover up the bloody smell…

He does like spicy food so he tends to eat quite a bit of curry

So he does smell like curry powder sometimes

He also smells like his favorite food, Shichimi Togarashi

It’s basically like a seaweed mix

But it’s not enough to change very the weird bloody hospital smell he permanently has on him

Ruki does use the “He has anemia” card to make people less suspicious…but then Azusa gives Ruki a heart attack

Hell ask people if they wanna cut him

That’s not exactly normal human behavior so his brothers will step in and prevent him from doing anything to blow their cover

He also just naturally smells like leather

It’s very subtle but it’s nice!

As stated in Kou’s second, he also smells of French fries

He really likes McDonald’s fries…when they’re cold…

It weirds Kou out but he’s getting fries with his lil bro so he does his best to ignore it

#diabolik lovers #diaboys #mukami brothers #ruki mukami #kou mukami #Yuma Mukami #azusa mukami

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hwajin · 2 years

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 — !# : hhj

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: artist!hyunjin x fem!artist!reader

wc: 5.9k

warnings: LOTS of tension, piv /unprotected sex and cumming inside, otherwise hella soft and lovely :3

Your footsteps halled through the emptied rooms of the University building you were so used to walking by, so familiar with. Every painting and sculpture – fragile sculptures, that you passed by oh so carefully, not daring to damage them in any way – were as though engraved in your mind, the gentle strokes and lines of colour placed so delicately onto every work, and you knew them all by heart. A smile crossed your lips any time you walked past the halls of the school you were privileged enough to visit, each and every piece of art representing the student’s talents precisely, students and classmates you’ve visited courses with, all different yet connected by one simplicity; the love to create, the wish to pursue an artist’s career.

Right before entering the room you aimed for, you passed one of your very own sculptures presented in the hallways of your art school, something you’ve created for the very first exhibition you were allowed to participate in, the memories of the day flooding your mind any time the art piece met your eyes. Admittedly, not with exceptionally good memories, the pressure and limited time and the judging eyes of teachers and professors wouldn’t let you sleep for days on end. But maybe it was for a good cause, because now that you were at the brick of graduating, experiencing the same old pressure and limited time and having to bear the judging faces or teachers and professors – you were used to it already, didn’t find it all that bad altogether.

Though, of course, the nearly unmanageable amount of work you had to put into your last project, into the sculpture that would decide your by far most important grade was overwhelming, caused you to spend night and day in the studio, the bags under your eyes a constant accompany lately.

You’ve made your way to your assigned seat in the classroom, your half-finished sculpture standing beside the table, wrapped in moist foil to keep the fictile in a shape you could still craft on, even after days of no usage. It was mostly dark around you, the room long fallen into a slumber it seemed, the only source of light the faint rays of the downing sun and desk lights that students forgot to turn off after a day of work. The professors hated that, scolded each and every one the next day at how much electricity that’d cost the school, so whenever you stayed overtime you made an effort to cut off any light source you didn’t need beforehand, simply to not get an earful the next morning.

It hasn’t even crossed your mind that another person could possibly still work that hour, as it was long after closing time already and you’ve always been the last one seen walking the school halls lately. But a couple seats behind yours you could make out a figure, could see eyes looking back at your fearful ones and you took a step back, until the darkened figure got up from its place and started to speak, suddenly, much to your displeasure as fear ran through your veins.

“Oh god, I’m uh- sorry for scaring you, I didn’t know someone else would come here--”

You recognized the tone as a hast one, words speaking a quick reassurance and you noticed you knew the voice, a male voice that you surely were familiar with but not enough to grasp it yet. Your muscles relaxed nevertheless after the wave of shock has washed over you, seeing it was simply another student that decided to voluntarily work additional hours just like you, maybe graduating as well, or just an overachiever.

You chuckled quietly, already finding amusement at just how scared you were moments back, and you were quick to mumble something back to the supposedly classmate that was standing afar from you – you were yet unable to see his face, the dark shadowing out most details in the room.

“Ah no, it’s alright. I just didn’t know…”

Your voice drifted off when the male finally stepped into the dim light of the classroom, revealing his persona, which – you couldn’t lie – made you gasp slightly. It was no other than Hwang Hyunjin, another graduate, not in your class though. You only knew him from friends, and friends of friends, having talked to him only a couple of times, those conversations stored in your memory as nice ones. He was smart and funny, a calm guy who didn’t seem to like the crowds much, always seen by himself or with a small group of friends only. He was undeniably pretty, and you’ve heard hardworking too, and those two qualities alone made him by far the most popular guy in school, making everyone fancy the boy secretly, or so painfully obvious that you’ve sometimes felt bad for him. You weren’t one to deny his attractiveness, nevertheless you have never developed a crush on the student like most others, figuring it must be his popularity that icked you off in a way. Or maybe it was an unintentional voluntarily thing, maybe there were butterflies after all that you wanted to deny, simply to not be one of many who wanted him.

You saw Hyunjin’s face form into a small smile after he recognized you, though his brows were slightly furrowed in confusion, given your unfinished sentence.

“Oh my god, it’s you, you uh- you scared me, I didn’t really think that anyone would like- be here either, yeah.”

You chuckled again as you fought the urge to scrunch up your nose in embarrassment. You wouldn’t particularly call yourself a social butterfly, and though you’ve talked to the boy more than one time already you had to admit that neither of those times you were fully sober, alcohol making most of the conversation as the majority of things you talked about were uni things and professors. You remembered meeting at a get together of first semester students for the first time, and then occasionally afterwards when friends and classmates decided to go out for a drink or two. So yes, right now you were at a loss for words, unsure of how to talk with him, what to talk about.

And if you thought about it, your slight social awkwardness wasn’t the only thing that made you as nervous as you were, that made your palms sweat just the slightest bit, almost unnoticeably. It was Hyunjin’s somewhat strong presence, if you could call it that, a kind of aura that always seemed to circulate him wherever he went, making everyone passing him turn their heads at him. It wasn’t intimidating, nor felt it intentional from his side. It was just there, making him nearly desirable in every sense of the word.

Hyunjin cocked his head, gave you a smile like two acquaintances, mere strangers would give each other, and it was contagious, made you smile back at him.

“Yeah, I’m graduating and I’m- far not done yet… this was the only room open.”

You were aware, on your request you were allowed to use the atelier by night as long as you closed it after and handed over the keys to the professors first thing in the morning, and since that has never went wrong you were trusted by both your teachers and the janitor who was supposed to close all doors by 8pm. For out standers it seemed like special treatment, some students eyeing you whenever you stayed longer to keep working – at the end of the day it was your own decision though, and except Hyunjin you’ve never seen other students stay voluntarily, so if everyone else will lack behind while you’ll have your project ready and done it surely would be their fault, you figured.

After his comment you were unsure as to how you should continue the conversation, so you nodded at him, gave him a smile which you hoped looked like a genuine one and made your way to your seat. Should you restrict on using your headphones for tonight, to not seem rude while the boy was sitting behind, painting away as he did? Or would he start listening to music too, allowing you to dedicate your whole concentration on your sculpture as you so often did, without having the distraction of having to talk to him? Which would sound rude if you spoke it out, but you’d rather finish off early than holding small talk which surely would turn awkward anyways.

But the man started speaking, when he was halfway back at his desk again, leaving you with no option than to converse with him – which again, you had no problem with, you simply feared for the conversation to die out into something embarrassing that both of you had to bear with for the rest of the night while you were working away.

“Oh, this is your sculpture? It caught my eye when I walked in, it- stands out. It’s pretty.”

Hyunjin had a shy undertone in his words, which didn’t make his compliment sound any less genuine, though. He inspected your work, and suddenly you felt nervous, flustered. It wasn’t the first positive comment you’ve received from classmates and friends, yet this particular one, from Hyunjin, felt different. More personal. Which admittedly was ironic, given you barely knew the man.

“Ah, thank you so much. I- uh- I tried.”

You chuckled, and Hyunjin fell into a small fist of giggles as well, your answer more sarcastic than he expected. And though you feared it, the night proceeded with comfortable small talk you and him shared. It wasn’t a serious chat, filled with jokes and laughs, Hyunjin being as funny and witty as you remembered him to be, and talking to him was easy. It felt like you were close friends, almost, teasing at each other from time to time when the other grunted out in frustration about an accidental mistake, trying to fix it while the other merely chuckled at the attempts.

After a while of comfortable silence – you figured that two hours must have passed already, surprised at how fast the time flew while spending it with Hyunjin – the man several seats behind you sighed out in what sounded like frustration, tsking and clicking his tongue frequently while the sound of eraser on canvas filled your ears. Another mistake, you thought, though you decided not to tease this time. It was late, and given that he was a graduate as well, every wrong brush and line of his must be stressing him out to exhaustion – since you didn’t feel any different.

“Hey, you good over there?”

At the sound of your words, intended to help, Hyunjin’s eyes found yours and he chuckled in a somewhat defeated manner before looking back at his piece, eyeing it critically. You’ve realized you haven’t yet asked him what exactly he was working on, though you were of those people yourself who didn’t like others gawking and staring at an unfinished project, especially if it were experts in the same field. And maybe he was the same, so you stopped your curiosity to get the best of you with this one.

“Ugh, I’m not sure, I can’t like-- get the anatomy right on this one, I think.”

The man threw his head back in frustration, long, slender fingers – slightly chalk stained – running through his dark hair, pushing the longish strands out of his face. It bothered you, in a way it shouldn’t be bothering you, your eyes fixed on his hands before you came back to your senses again, quickly, giving your head a slight shake to get rid of the shiver that deemed to run down your spine, for less than a second only, yet you still noticed.

“Uh- can I- can I see what you’re making? Maybe I can help out…?”

Your words were hesitant in a way; though you had to admit that anatomy was essential in what you were doing, and you’d claim that sculpturing years and years on end has taught you to have a decent understanding of it, so maybe he could use your eye after all. And the look Hyunjin gave you only confirmed your suspicion, his eyes almost pleading, already laced with thankfulness as he nodded at you, another sigh leaving his plump lips – you shouldn’t have noticed how puffy they were, how reddened pink his mouth contrasted against his pale skin, yet you did, especially now that you didn’t have a choice but step closer to him.

You tried concentrating on the painting ahead though, which – now that you were directly looking at it, inspecting his work – you could barely take your eyes off it. You knew that whatever he’s been drawing for the past hours you’ve spent together in the atelier must have been nothing but good, yet it overthrew all your expectations; the canvas was huge, which was the first admirable factor you couldn’t possibly overlook, and on it a clearly unfinished though carefully planned out drawing that left you nothing but speechless in its gracefulness – it was only a sketch, yet Hyunjins talent was surely undeniable after only a peek at it. The pencil drawing showed an abstract image of a nude body, unidentifying lines and strokes all around it; you figured those would make more sense the moment Hyunjin would add some color. Parts of the body were left out in the sketch, haven’t been added on yet, and those precisely must be the spots Hyunjin struggled with. Understandably so, the position he chose to draw the woman in a tricky one, surprised he hasn’t been using a reference tonight in the first place, a model, or a picture at least.

“See, the feet right here don’t seem right. I didn’t think it would be too hard, I drew the majority of this with a model anyways, thought finishing this off on my own would be easier than it is.”

So, he did have a model after all, it made sense. Hyunjin cocked his head at his work, showing towards the part he explained to struggle with so you could get a better look at it. He let out another sound of frustration, hands propped up on his thighs as he leaned forward, and back, getting a look at the canvas from different positions. His shoulder blades moved visibly at that, pried up underneath his white shirt, and your eyes have forgotten the painting by now. The muscles in Hyunjin’s arms flexed and relaxed with every other movement he decided to make, and at this point your thoughts went a place elsewhere, too.

“You know, I modelled for references for a bit in my second semester. I could help you-- that way.”

Hyunjin’s head snapped at you, eyes opened in surprise and his ears a bright red; you knew you weren’t off any better. You weren’t quite sure where those words came from, suddenly, unexpectedly, and while you wished that he maybe overheard them; you everything but regretted it. You were embarrassed, shy now that you locked eyes with him, but the anticipation tingled in your fingertips as you expected his answer.

“I mean- if you want. If you’re uh- okay with it; the model is supposed to be- you know- naked.”

In a way, you two were acting bold, increasing the tension in the room to an extent that was soon impossible to let slide. Yet, the shyness and hesitation was nevertheless hard to overhear in Hyunjins words, blush now creeping around his neck and cheeks too – still, he didn’t break the eye contact, held his gaze locked with yours, and you decided to do the same, humming at him in response, giving him your wordless approval. And in that moment neither of you could merely predict what the next minutes would bring, how both of you would handle the ever-rising heat in the atelier, how your relationship would continue after this – would you be smiling at each other in the hallway, or simply look away in an embarrassed manner, shy to even lock eyes with the other in memories to this day?

You both walked over to the small area of sofas and chairs and couches that were scattered in a corner, your movements stiff and fearful almost, yet none of you backed off. Hyunjin brought his canvas alongside, placing it in front of a longish sofa, supposedly the one you’d be laying on, modeling on. The old, rough material of the cushions made you shiver, already thinking about your naked body touching where generations of students have been sitting, eating and drinking on. It shuddered you thinking of it.

And you weren’t sure if Hyunjin perhaps caught a glimpse of your expression, maybe saw how you were eyeing the sofa covered in mysterious dark spots; but the man walked back to where he was seated before, to the back of the classroom, and coming back he had his jacket in his hands, one that was surely too big on you, one that he currently laid onto the sofa carefully before giving you an unsure look.

“Uh, you can lay on that. That thing looks disgusting.”

Hyunjin gave you a chuckle, nervous, but it brightened the tensed atmosphere in the room even if slightly. A sound similar to a chuckle left your lips, and you mustered the creased up jacket he prepared, your stomach turning as you stepped closer to your seat. Hyunjin was doing everything possible to not look at you, it seemed, running around to turn on lights and get his canvas in the right position, or pick up different pencils and erasers that were laying by his desk; all the while he made no eye contact, purposefully avoiding it, and you took it as a sign to get ready yourself; to undress, if you will.

And oh, was it bizarre, the situation as a whole. When you thought about it, you must have gone crazy, the upcoming so strange to your usual behavior, so much bolder than your normally laid back persona. What the hell were you doing, and why? There was no reason to help a colleague, a mere stranger to the extent of undressing before him – though, for a reason you were unable to explain yourself, you felt the pit of your stomach flutter in what must be anticipation, a sign you’ve surely nothing but went crazy.

Your fingertips found the hem of your shirt, and you slid out of it with ease, letting it fall to the ground beneath you. You didn’t dare to even turn around, to peek a glance at Hyunjin, embarrassment coloring your ears already, your face heating up into an impossible the moment your pants and underwear joined the pile of clothing, too, after a while. You were naked, to the bone, and your body felt as though in trance – you were barely able to make your way to the godforsaken sofa, your feet carrying you towards it almost hesitantly, though wanting, needing.

After ages, it felt like, you dared to turn your body, dared to sit down by the corner – bum touching Hyunjins jacket, and you weren’t sure if that’s what he meant when he said you could lay on it. The man in question has not ended his scurrying around, still, his figure making its way through the atelier in what felt like an attempt to spare time, to prolong what both of you couldn’t believe would happen sooner or later.

“Hyunjin-“

Finally, the man stopped in his tracks, finally dared to convert his eyes onto you, your figure; your body. And you'd lie saying it left you cold when you saw his mouth falling agape slightly, when his eyes encountered you, before he sealed his lips again quickly, embarrassed, as if he came back to his senses. You took notice on the way his eyes wandered across your curves for what seemed like a millisecond only, as though not allowing himself to stare, to admire, before he looked back at your face, locking eyes again - and you'd claim to have seen a sort of excitement in them, anticipation maybe - or perhaps it was desire, the thing that's been circulating your mind as well, the very emotion, the very lust that has infiltrated your mind and body long ago, barely allowed you to think straight.

"How- do you want me?"

Hyunjin almost visibly gulped at the question, eyes fluttering in fast blinking as though he awoke off a trance, his body following movements that seemed unnatural, too stiff, too nervous. You didn't intend to make your question sound the way it did, but maybe it wasn't quite you talking, after all, not when Hyunjin looked at you the way he did. He made his way over to the chair, behind his canvas, giving your body a glance that caused you nothing but to shudder. He had an intensity in his presence that you were used to already, hence why all and everyone would swoon over the boy the moment they laid eyes on him. His gaze though, however, was too much, too intimate for you to handle, the depth in his eyes so much more than you could stand out. Your every fibre in you wanted to hide, to lay your hands above your body and cover up, simply to escape the proceeding look of his, a slow inspection he tortured you with. It wasn't to make you feel watched, wasn't to make you insecure - you knew he needed a good look of you to perfect his work, yet it was nothing but mind wrecking, given that he himself was fully dressed.

"Can you lay down? On-- your side, please, and-- cross your legs so your uh-. So you can't see... you know..."

Red color shot onto your face at the sound of Hyunjins stuttering, knowing very well what he must be referring to, his hands motioning to his crotch area vastly, his own ears burning. You took his instructions, hopefully the way he needed it, laying down and crossing your legs, trying to get somewhat comfortable, as much as it was possible. The silk-like underside of the jacket he’s given you was soft against your skin, the reminder that your body laid on it making your palms cover in a film of sweat. And you thought that Hyunjin must have noticed too, how his piece of cloth scrunched up under you, beneath your weight, the way it came in contact with your body, with every bit of it, and it took him longer than usual to get back his composure, it seemed.

A nod from him told you he was happy, roughly, precisely, but not quite yet, not fully. He showed you how to position your hands, your arms, corrected you in the position you laid in, found new imperfections with every closer look he'd take, it seemed.

Not imperfections he made out on you, though – in his eyes, even if you couldn’t possibly see this, you were the perfect model, the most beautiful reference he could wish for. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that you laid naked before him, though your body surely was nothing but distracting, the accent of your chest perking up before the curve to your waist lined the shape of your upper body, rounded hips protruding with the position you laid in. It was hard for him to not lose focus on the flesh of your thighs, how your legs pressed together when you took his instructions, how you obediently stayed in place for him, waiting for his further word. It wasn’t all that, not entirely. It was the look you gave him, as if you wanted this for more than one reason, as if you had another motive up your sleeve other than simply helping him. And your piercing gaze was nothing but screwing with his head, god, his mind would not stop circulating around you.

By the time Hyunjin has started with his work – it has taken both of you long enough to finally figure out the ending pose, with how worked up you felt, how stuffed the air suddenly got, how hot you were – and it was nothing but sensual. The way Hyunjin looked at you, so concentrated to capture your every curve and movement on his canvas, trying to get your body as realistic as possible, as possibly beautiful as you were in his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to feel this way, sensual and intimate as it was; it was a simple task, between art graduates that knew each other merely and lent a hand to the other, nothing more or less. But the tension in the atelier could have been cut through with a knife, if possible, with the way Hyunjin didn’t once dare to forget to lock eyes with you after inspecting your body, and before going back to his sketch. His eyes would find yours always, even if for a second, so quickly you’d miss it if your own gaze wasn’t locked on him too. And you couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for this, didn’t understand how looking for eye contact, and finding it for a fleeing moment, would help him get this done any better, faster. Only if his reasonings were the same as yours, after all, if the turmoil in his own mind and body was as nerve wrecking as yours – lust and needing growing rapidly, with every pencil stroke the man made.

“Just like that, you’re uh- you’re doing really well.”

Hyunjin gave you a smile, sweet and somehow inviting, comforting. Yet his words sent chaos through your brain, your face surely painting a darker color as you blushed, unable to contain the shy smile that crept up your lips. God, he was attractive as he sat there, hands carefully moving his pencil across the whitened canvas, erasing mistakes here and there after inspecting your body intensely once more.

“But…”

Hyunjin hesitated suddenly, his brows furrowed at you, eyes going back between your body and the progress he’s made. Something was off, maybe your position wasn’t quite right anymore, given you’ve laid stiffly for several minutes by now. He got up from his seat, walking over to you. Coming closer, with every slow step he took, your eyes following up the lines of his figure until you were met with his face, the moment he scrunched down to be levelled up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, the man so close to you suddenly you could nearly feel the heat his body radiated, against the sensitivity of your naked skin.

“Uh- can I just-…”

It seemed like he asked for approval, to touch you, maybe, to correct the perspective. You gave him a nod, a silent agreement, his hands proceeding to wander to the mess of your hair, before you felt his fingers on your scalp. He most likely needed to fix the way it laid, the way it fell above your shoulder, as it could affect parts of his sketching progress; but you felt no ounce of professionalism this very moment, the very bit that was left when the two of you have started surely dissipating into nothingness at this point, slowly but surely. And you nothing but hoped that he felt the same, that maybe Hyunjin would look down at you, would lock eyes with you and maybe screw the project altogether, would allow himself to shortly let his focus go elsewhere – on you.

His hands were fiddling with your strands still, his dark orbs – shimmering slightly in the artificial light of the room – wandered south, to meet your eyes. There was a pause, filled with anticipation, with excitement about the unknowing, with the need to figure out what the other was thinking, if thoughts were shared. Both of you felt the same desire, the same urge to dive in, to lean into each other, yet both of you were too cowardly to act on it this instant. Only shared eye contact, trying to get behind the others mind, to see past whatever you wanted to call this.

Hyunjins eyes fluttered down to the outline of your lips, yours did the same. It was short, the staring contest proceeding as quickly as it got interrupted. Until Hyunjins mouth opened, as though to say something, catching the corner of your eye.

“Is that- alright…?”

Unsure to what exactly he was referring to, you simply nodded. He could mean anything, everything, and you’d be up for it. Now that his scent was infiltrating your mind with the way he hovered over you in an unstable manner, how the neverending touch of his consumed your mind and body – the want for him was stronger than before, stronger than when you first noticed him, than when you first started with this bizarreness of a situation. So whatever it was he meant, you were nothing but alright with it, wanted it.

And luckily for you, Hyunjin was far braver than you, took the initiate the both of you saw anyways. His lips found yours, in a quick moment, hastily, yet the feeling of relief shot through your body, as if the immense tension got finally cut through, as if the air in the atelier got clearer, momentarily. It was a slow kiss, a soft one, as everything Hyunjin seemed to do. The feeling of his puffed up lips felt cloudy against you, and you sighed out in content, in awaiting. You felt Hyunjins hands disconnecting from your hair, finally, finding touch with your body, hesitantly so. It was noticeable in his movements, he was clam and careful, approaching your figure mindfully. While your lips were moving against each other, in a way of getting to know, in a way of exploring, Hyunjins fingertips made sure to stay in place the further he made his way across your curves, as though waiting for a sign of disapproval – only if none was found he kept his travel going.

Your own hands soon had the urge to find contact with the man, too, his shoulders suddenly so inviting, his arms so steady around your figure and against the sofa that you let your fingers dance across them. You felt every dip of muscle on them, felt the bones in his shoulders when you reached them, felt how his back flexed and relaxed in different ways when you let your palms slide up and down. And Hyunjin sighed out at that, his breath hitching when your cold hands came to halt at his skin, by the hem of his shirt. You didn’t allow yourself to make moves he might cut off, so you’ve waited impatiently until he straightened up and tossed the tee over his head himself, the pile of clothes by the sofa adding up.

He was breathtaking like this. Built, but not too much, proportions as though planned out by a higher being. You wanted to sculpt him, wanted to use his body to create art.

Your lips managed to disconnect from his, task harder than it seemed, the kiss you’ve shared until now way rougher, more passionate. You let your mouth travel up and down his neck, giving kitten licks to Hyunjin’s jaw, before finding a spot to bite down at, only slightly, only enough to draw color. He whined at that, and you thought you’d never hear anything prettier, anything more addicting than this.

His hands found their way to your thighs, groping at the flesh, tickling the inner, more sensitive part of them. And it took him only a hum of you, one that sounded like approval, and his fingers were fluttering above your core, finding touch with it slowly, carefully. One finger up and down your slit before the next followed, and by now you couldn’t bear to continue the attack you’ve had on Hyunjins neck, your head now falling back into the harsh cushions, mouth agape lightly. Instead, it seemed like it was his turn now, his kiss bruised mouth finding the bit behind your ear, nibbling and grazing the skin so feathery you barely contained the sounds that sinfully wanted to make their way past your lips. Hyunjins fingertips danced against your clit now, not daring to apply excessive pressure, but teasing you enough to, after all, get to hear the whines and sighs you oh so wanted to quite out.

“Fuck, what are we doing.”

You thought the same thing Hyunjin spoke out, the situation yet not fully settled. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it were your sleep deprived bodies, your overworked brains. Maybe it was all that, and the desire for each other – after all, it all well could have been nothing at all, and you’d still not complain. You loved this, everything about this, whatever it was, whatever you’d call it.

As an answer to Hyunjins question your hand wandered south, needy fingers teasing at his bulge, feeling painfully hard by now. Another whine passed his lips, his full brows scrunching together, his pleasure distorted face nothing but a sight to see. And thankfully he understood your hint, could read what your movements told him; he got rid of his pants in an instant, impatiently getting them off his body, and finally you were both left uncovered, bare and vulnerable for the other.

You’ve felt Hyunjin stretch you out slowly, and it was hesitant, the way your lips parted during, as if the only thing they’d ever need to do is stay connected. You’ve felt him fill you up, to the hilt, feeling every vein and nib against your walls, and he seemed to touch spots oh so deep within you.

The both of you sounded desperate, sounds of grunts and quiet moans filling the echoes of the atelier, while Hyunjin started to roll his hips against you. It was as if any and everything he did was meant to be agonizingly sensual, and soft, and loving. In the way he moved, in the way he created art, in the way he fucked. It felt so right to you, so infiltrating, you couldn’t get enough.

Hyunjins movements fastened, turned sloppier momentarily while the two of you never stopped sharing kisses, exchanging moans and breath, taking in each other fully. You weren’t in love, not knowingly, but this was all how it seemed. Your breathing started to hitch in your throat more frequently, and Hyunjins grunts seemed to grow louder, filling the room in beautiful sin while you chased after the high, together. Your hands not one left Hyunjins body, always touching, unable to disconnect from the feeling of his skin against you. And he was similar; his hands, much bigger than yours, having a grip on the inside of your thigh, while the other explored elsewhere, your chest, or neck, or waist and hips. It was as if none of you wanted this to end, as if both of you wanted to hold the other to not let the moment pass, to not go back to what might turn into embarrassment.

You arched your back into the man, urging to cry out in pleasure, yet containing yourself to only let whines slip past your tongue. It was overwhelming, in every way possible, when you felt Hyunjin paint your insides in nothing but white, when the weight of his body met yours, when his hot breath hit your neck. None of you where this would end, where this would go after all this, but for that moment, for the time being, neither of you wasted a thought on it while you laid in each others arms, while you melted into each other and breathed the other in, while you shared one body, like two lovers, almost, perhaps.

tagging: @lotus-dly @hyunjinoir @aeminju @n-bokhari @che3tobre4th @etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @meloohmel @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie

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