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#love making creatures and naming creatures and collecting creatures and creating beautiful places for them to live. i love my pokemon and my

seiya-starsniper · 4 months

Note

Oh I will happily send you prompt requests! Lol.

From the smutty fic prompt list:

15. Corintheus.

Good luck getting to 200k before the end of the year!!

15. A tries to get B jealous as a part of their flirting game. B snaps way harder then A predicted.

OH I LOVE THIS VERY VERY MUCH. I have already written something like this with Dream snapping with jealous rage so I'm going to reverse it this time, as a treat to myself :3 Enjoy this little slice of birthday cake from me to you 💖🍰

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Jealousy is one of humanity’s ugliest emotions. Dream is well aware of this fact, having carried the collective jealousies of all of humanity for billions of years. It is an illogical, hungry, and all-consuming feeling, born of insecurity and envy for things one does not have. Dream has felt jealousy many times in his long-lived existence, and has crafted many a nightmare utilizing the emotion to serve as dark lessons for the collective unconsciousness.

In this exact moment, however, Dream finds himself unexpectedly endeared by the ugliness of jealousy. It is suddenly a stunning emotion, brilliant in its pettiness and sharp edges, authentic in a way most other emotions cannot hope to emulate. In this moment, it is almost beautiful in its ugliness.

It is especially beautiful, he thinks, because the emotion is reflected so perfectly in the Corinthian’s face.

“You are unhappy with my new nightmare then, Corinthian?” he asks, gesturing to his newest creation. The nightmare in front of them is quite similar to the Corinthian; he is tall, handsome and well dressed, but he also wrong. There are green eyes where the ocular mouths would be, dark brown hair instead of blond. They share the same mean smile though, and Dream can easily feel how much the Corinthian hates him.

The Corinthian growls in response to Dream’s inquiry, and then he lunges at the Endless with his dagger.

“Why,” the Corinthian swings just an inch short of Dream’s neck, “does he,” he swings again, and then time Dream lets him cut off just the tiniest bit of hair, “look like me!!” the Corinthian practically screams. Dream only rumbles a laugh in reply, and the nightmare roars before he tries to stab the Endless again.

Dream catches the Corinthian by the wrist and squeezes him hard, forcing the nightmare to drop the blade.

“Why does he have eyes,” the Nightmare demands as he flails uselessly to try to get out of Dream's grip.

“You should be the one to tell me, little nightmare,” Dream replies, his tone sharp. “This nightmare is a different type of dark mirror for humanity and if you only—”

“No!” the Corinthian yells, interrupting Dream mid-sentence and resorting now to kicks and punches. “You can’t make another Corinthian, I won’t let you!”

Dream laughs again, which seems to only make the Corinthian angrier. He starts swinging wildly again, but this time, instead of Dream, the blond tries to kick his legs out to destroy the newly created nightmare, but he is just barely out of reach. Dream sighs, exasperated, before he tosses the Corinthian to the other side of the Shores of Creation. He hides the new nightmare before the blond can cross the sands back to where he is standing.

When the Corinthian reaches Dream, covered in sand and without his signature lenses, he is shaking with fury and indignation, his ocular mouths clenched and hissing loudly.

“What the hell are you playing at Dream?” the Corinthian demands. Dream only shrugs and then he unveils the nightmare from its hiding place, this time revealing its true for to the Arcana. It looks nothing like it did before; instead, the creature is a writhing mess of thorny vines, seemingly all at odds with one another, as if competing to see which appendage would triumph over the others.

“His name is Zephyr,” Dream purrs, pressing his forehead to the newly created dream before he sends it off into its new function. It disappears into the Dreaming in a howl of unending hunger, desperate to devour all that it does not have. “And he is a manifestation of every insecurity, every inadequacy a creature feels in itself.”

Dream turns his gaze back to the Corinthian, who is now wearing a look of dawning horror as he realizes exactly why the nightmare had looked the way it did before.

“Thank you for helping demonstrating just how potent he will be,” Dream continues, his smile just the slightest bit mean. It has the intended effect. The Corinthian comes at Dream with his second dagger in hand.

“You tricked me!” he howls, this time lunging for the space where Dream’s heart would be were he human. Dream merely raises an eyebrow as he easily dodges the nightmare’s attempts.

“Did I, Corinthian?” Dream asks, amusement clear in his tone. “You know full well that I am not to be disturbed when I am creating.”

“You!” the Corinthian exclaims, starting to lunge for Dream again, but then he stops, a new realization coming to him suddenly. “You knew I would come see you. You knew I didn’t follow that rule.”

Dream hums. “You were never good at following directions, Corinthian,” he replies, not even attempting to hide the smugness in his voice.

The Corinthian lunges for him again, this time without the knife. Dream lets the nightmare tackle him into the sand, laughing the entire time.

Yes, he thinks. Jealousy is a lovely look on the Corinthian, especially now that the nightmare knows that Dream had goaded him on purpose. Knows that Dream had preyed upon his insecurities with intent. And still, his singular goal remains to claim Dream as his own. Once again, the Corinthian has outperformed Dream’s expectations of him.

Dream pulls the Corinthian into a rough kiss, and even that is sweeter than normal. The Corinthian had always been a possessive creature, but his posessiveness had always come with a sense of self assurance, a certain smugness that no matter what, he was always going to be a favorite. Dream had condoned that attitude for far too long. It had been endearing early on, but it made the Corinthian arrogant, made him believe that he was above the other dreams and nightmares. Dream needed to remind him of his place.

“Mine,” the Corinthian growls, biting along the column of Dream’s throat.

“You cannot stop me from creating other dreams and nightmares, Corinthian,” Dream moans as the blond reaches beneath his robe to grip at his cock. He squeezes him hard, then starts pumping at a brutal pace that leaves Dream panting and clawing at the Corinthian’s back. Their clothes vanish into the sands of the Shore, and as soon as the Corinthian notices this, he takes both of them in hands and grinds their hips together.

“I’ll kill all of them,” the Corinthian groans as he increases the pace of his strokes. “Starting with that new one.”

“Mmmm,” Dream murmurs, right before he bites down on the Corinthian’s shoulder. “I look forward to watching you try.”

#corintheus #the sandman #the corinthian #dream of the endless #dream x corinthian #sandman fanfiction #seiya writes #seiya writes corintheus #seiya's birthday prompt fills

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atwowination · 1 year

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2. The River of Divu

R/m : A little bit of info you need to know : Änee’ite is you, the River of Divu like many things in this novel are invented by me. Some characters are obviously not created by me so all credit to the creator. Thank you for all the love in the first part <3

In the morning, Jake got productive. He started by attempting to collect some food for his growling stomach but to no avail. He continued his walking journey with an empty stomach as he tried to keep a decent pace. He was quickly losing energy and his large body needed abundant food to function which he didn’t have. At some point, he stopped and laid on the floor, staring at the bright blue sky. His forehead was dripping sweat and his eyes were getting heavy. The absence of breeze irritated him as his body was scalding hot from the heat. Thankfully, two na’vi appeared on top of his resting body, staring him down.

“Lepay…” (Water) One of the few words that he learned. The men immediately understood and helped Jake up. One of them had a high ponytail and the other one a bun. Even Though he was barely conscious, Jake could still tell that they looked alike. They led him out of the forest and towards a source of water. Not long after, they had arrived at a pond where Jake kneeled down and splashed his face with the refreshing water. It was a boost of energy for sure, he thought. But, he still needed food.

“Where is food?” Jake spoke a few words in order to make them understand. The man with the bun stepped forward and put his hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“We understand you,” Jake let out a sigh of relief at the man’s words. He put his hand out to shake their hands and both of the na’vi reciprocated. Their names were Selkath and Kaüwi and after properly introducing themselves, they led Jake towards an open clearing that was surrounded by tall trees.

Kaüwi had gathered fruit for the three of them as they got comfortable at the edge of a hill. This gave them the full view of Pandora which stretched to the ocean. Although Jake questioned the safety of this location, the two assured him that it was their hangout spot and it was safe.

Jake had found out that Selkath and Kaüwi were blood brothers and had lost their parents during a human attack. Selkath had started telling stories about their tribe, while Kaüwi cut the fruit. He had recounted the arrival of the humans on their land and how pressured they had felt for decades to leave their home.

“We stood our ground many times without intentions of violence but they kept egging us on. At some point, we had enough.” The desperation was clear in Selkath’s voice.

“And you attacked them?” They both turned their heads to look at Sully.

“No. They attacked us first. They invaded our forest with their guns and threatened us to leave, and only then we turned to violence.” Kaüwi added, slightly raising his voice. Jake had been blinded and lied to. All these years, he had been told stories of how hostile and dangerous the Na’vi were to humans. Therefore, he assumed they were the ones that attacked first, the ones that initiated the war. But according to Kaüwi, it was the other way around.

“We just want to protect what's ours” Selkath stood up and threw his leftovers down the hill. Jake copied his actions and wiped the excess juices on his suit.

“Come with us,” Selkath signaled Jake to walk in front of them as a gesture of kindness which Sully happily did. They were taking Jake to their home so that he could get situated for the night. The sun was still shining bright as the two brothers took Jake on journeys with them.

They had taught him about weapons and about creatures, how to fly, how to run properly as he was still getting used to his body and finally they would show him the most beautiful places hidden in Pandora. Their last destination was the River of Divu which was a common place where Na’vi bathed. It was convenient for Jake who had not showered in a while and had started to smell his own body odor.

Once they had arrived, Jake was left with his mouth open. He had never seen so many Na’vi gathered in one area. They were occupying every rock or patch of grass that surrounded the river. Jake was mostly surprised by the structure of it. He had noticed that the river gets cut at some point towards the end. As they walked down the rock stairs next to the river, Jake noticed that where the river gets cut, it becomes a colossal waterfall that falls unto a gigantic pond.

The water is expectedly clean and there were tall trees enveloping it. It was a beautiful sight, Jake thought as he was now standing next to the waterfall on a slippery rock.

“Now this is tricky. You have to dive into the waterfall but you also have to not slip. Can you handle it, ‘evi?” (kid) Jake was staring down at the waterfall, amazed at its height as he mentally prepared himself.

“I can’t ever be ready for this” The two brothers chuckled as they mocked him for his fright.

“Little chicken boy is scared of heights”

“Yeah, laugh it up asses” he responded to Selkath as Kaüwi gave him a smack on the back.

“It’s easy bro, look.” He took one long leap and dived into the water, and soon enough his brother joined him.

Now, Jake was stuck on top of the waterfall, his heartbeat moving at an inhumane pace.

“It’s just water, Jake. You are fine.” He gave himself a slap on the cheek and hesitated before diving into the waterfall. He had closed his eyes and was holding tight to his chest as he felt the cold water hit his face. His hands cut the water as he dove into the pond. He took his time coming back up as he enjoyed the refreshing feeling of the water caressing his body.

When he finally came up, the two brothers had already dispersed talking to a random bunch of women. Jake smiled at their ignorance and swam around, waving at people. They thought he was strange for waving at them as the Na’vi were all familiar with each other. He had ignored the stares from all around him as he continued swimming.

Jake had noticed a small path through the water that led him to the beautiful view of the sunset. It was so high up, the forest trees from below the pond were not tall enough to hide the view. He had spotted a woman at the edge of the water with her hands on the grass and the rest of her body in the water.

He swam towards her calmly so as to not disturb her peace. Once he was next to her, the woman had detected his presence and turned her head to the side to get a look at him.

It was her.

The woman he had met before who had saved him was now staring back at him with her green eyes. Her eyes that were now wide open stared at his face.

She remembers me too..

“Hi,” He stupidly said. He was so dumbfounded by her that he could not form a proper sentence.

“Jake,” She spoke softly. He was surprised that she had remembered his name.

“Yes,” Jake smiled and stretched his hand under water for her to shake but instead, she turned her eyes back to the sunset. Jake, now embarrassed, lowered his hand and stared at her admiring the view.

“Who are you?” He spoke a little too loud to her and she shushed him, signaling him to whisper. Jake held his lips closed and waited for her answer.

“Änee’ite Aputayp Te Etawaa”

He stared at her once again, dumbfounded as he struggled to remember her long name.

“One more time but slower,” he chuckled and she obliged.

“Änee’ite. You can say Änee,” he smiled and nodded at her words.

“Änee. It is nice to meet you Änee,”

“You as well,” Jake was smiling proudly now that he had cracked her a little bit. She seemed stern but he was determined to loosen her up. His gaze fell back on the sun.

“It’s so beautiful,” he spoke. She hummed in agreement as they both swayed their legs in the water, backs turned to the rest of the tribe.

They remained there until the sun had been covered by the sea and the sky was getting dark. Throughout that time span, they had only exchanged a few words and they were all directed towards the sunset.

“We should not be here when it's dark,” Jake turned to her and she did the same.

“We will get pruny,” She slightly tilted her head sideways in confusion. Her eyebrows were furrowed.

“Pruny?” She asked him and he quickly realized she was not familiar with the word. Jake put his hand out and showed her the lines.

“It’s when your hand gets these squiggly lines.” He traced them showing her what he was talking about. She swam closer to him and stared down at his hand. She placed her fingers on the lines, tracing them as she felt his skin.

“Kawl ta’leng” (Hard skin) She commented and Jake nodded as if he understood.

“Kawl ta’leng” He could only repeat. She put her hand back in the water and looked back at the people in the distance. They were slowly starting to clear the area and she took it as a sign to swim back to her tribe.

“We should get out and not be pruny,” Jake chuckled at her using the word and she smiled back at him before dipping her head in the water. He let her swim towards the shore and soon after did the same, meeting Kaüwi and Selkath at a pile of rocks.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it brother,” Kaüwi spoke to Jake, referring to the dive.

“No, it wasn’t,” Selkath patted him on the back and swam towards the shore, Jake and Kaüwi following him. They walked towards the two brothers' home and thankfully arrived there dry. They had put down a makeshift bed for Jake next to the campfire and said their goodbyes before settling into their beds. Jake was resting his hand behind his head as he stared at the moon. Her being his only thought before closing his eyes.

Context : This is what the waterfall is supposed to look like

#jake sully x reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #Jake sully x reader #jake sully #pandora #avatar the way of water #avatar #lo'ak #neteyam #tuk #kiri #avatar: the way of water

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jutsei · 1 year

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The Traveler (TOH OC-ish)

Love seeing all these Collector OCs, they’re super neat and just as great as I thought they’d be!

I have one-... well AU of an OC but still counts! I just really wanted to show it bc I’m normal about it

The Traveler (Art not by me! Credit goes to Schgain on twitter, who’s also on here as waterloggedsoliloquy ! )

She is of the same race as the Collectors, but rather than Collect, she has a job that is just as important, finding life so the Collectors know where to look!

Her motif is the enduring symbol of the Shooting Star, a beautiful phenomena where a meteorite falls near a planet, visible in the night sky, leaving a beautiful, if brief trail in the sky. It is beautiful and wonderful, if fleeting, and some believe that if you make a wish upon a shooting star, it may just come true! Sometimes, shooting stars fall in clusters, creating an unforgettable star shower, something the Traveler adores doing when she is meeting others And yet, despite this, a shooting star does not last long, sometimes even a few seconds, it can be missed in the blink of an eye, but leaves an impact and a wish, be it good, or bad. The Traveler... “travels” the infinite cosmos, looking for planets with signs of life, and then visits them, bringing with her a storm of falling stars (Which she can call down on command), and after around 1-4 weeks, she leaves, and if a planet proved interesting enough to her, she summons a massive comet that serves as a beacon for the Collectors to come visit!

Though, after untold millennia, she has seen her fair share of planets that were already dead, were in the process of dying due to disasters or war, or simply weren’t ready, due to this she’s somewhat jaded and tired of doing work for the Collectors, and sometimes doesn’t even fire off the Beacon. Sometimes she wishes she could stay on a planet for longer, but she knows that she can’t. For a shooting star isn’t meant to stay long... it is always temporary.

Like other Children from the Stars, she has a powerful type of magic that borders on reality warping, but unlike other Collectors, it is less focused on trapping creatures for collection and play, and more for making the stars fall, she’s even capable of Granting a Wish!

Though, a Wish is important and may only be used once every so often, for a very special mortal on a planet, a gift before the Collectors arrive, so that they might be spared and be treated as a valued guest. They get their deepest desire granted, and are also granted clemency.

She has limits though, she can’t bring back the dead, can’t make someone fall in love with another, and she adamantly refuses to kill anyone (At least, not with a wish.)

She doesn’t like staying in one place for too long, but also is getting tired of going from place to place so things are complicated...

(Things also don’t get better when she gets sealed in a bottle for five hundred years on Earth. It’s ok, she’ll get out thanks to a witch named Taika {Another AU of an OC-} )

Recently got touched up thanks to the Collector Lore reveals, I thought that Collectors were more of a vocation for children of the Stars rather than it being their entire races creed, which results in different uses of their powers! Just fun stuff to think about

#toh oc #the owl house oc #the owl house au #toh au #collector ocs #just wanted to write about her #toh #the owl house #toh collector oc #one of my favorite things to write in recent months

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cinema-hallucinations · 1 month

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Prompt: write a movie concept for the story of a man with the power to turn sound into physical object. Typically these object are abstract nonsense. Once day he discover that one very specific sound turns into a living, breathing creature.

Title: The Noise

Tagline: Don't speak your mind. He might just create it.

Logline: Arthur "Arty" Finnigan can sculpt reality with sound, but all he creates is nonsensical clutter. Until, one day, a hum from an old refrigerator manifests as a tiny, sarcastic, living gremlin – forcing Arty on a hilarious journey to control his powers and the mischievous creature he accidentally brought to life.

Characters:

Arthur "Arty" Finnigan: A kindhearted but frustrated sound sculptor. Arty dreams of creating beautiful objects with his ability, but his power manifests as bizarre and useless things.

Squawk: A sarcastic and mischievous gremlin creature accidentally created by Arty from a refrigerator hum. Squawk enjoys causing chaos and thrives on loud noises.

Dr. Evelyn Walsh: A brilliant but eccentric scientist who studies auditory anomalies. She becomes Arty's reluctant mentor, determined to understand his unique ability.

Agent Rodriguez: A by-the-book government agent tasked with monitoring Arty and keeping his powers under control. He's constantly bewildered by Arty's creations and Squawk's antics.

Plot:

Arthur "Arty" Finnigan leads a lonely existence. Cursed with the ability to turn sound into physical objects, his apartment is filled with a chaotic collection of nonsensical sculptures – a giant rubber duck quack made from a car horn, a shimmering disco ball birthed from a disco song, a pile of squeaky dog toys materialized from a child's laughter.

Arty longs to create something beautiful, something useful, but his attempts always result in the absurd. His frustration mounts when the constant hum of his malfunctioning refrigerator suddenly takes shape – a tiny, green, trouble-making gremlin named Squawk.

Squawk thrives on loud noises, growing larger and more powerful with each blaring car alarm or booming construction site. He delights in causing chaos, turning Arty's life upside down and leaving Agent Rodriguez exasperated at the need to constantly clean up the mess.

Desperate to control his ability and contain Squawk, Arty seeks help from Dr. Evelyn Walsh, a scientist obsessed with the study of auditory anomalies. Dr. Walsh, initially skeptical, recognizes the potential of Arty's power and the danger of an uncontrolled Squawk.

Together, they embark on a quest to understand the intricacies of Arty's power and find a way to create living creatures from sound instead of nonsensical objects. Their journey leads them to hidden archives, forgotten sound recordings, and encounters with a colorful cast of characters who manipulate sound in unique ways (think street performers who create illusions with music, monks chanting to shape reality).

The climax involves a battle of sound. Arty, with Dr. Walsh's guidance, must use his powers to create a creature powerful enough to contain Squawk. He learns that the key is not just the sound itself, but the emotional intent behind it. Arty uses a recording of his own voice expressing his love for music and his desire to connect with others, creating a majestic creature of pure melody that effortlessly subdues Squawk.

Humor:

The absurdity of Arty's accidental creations and Squawk's mischievous antics.

The mismatched personalities of Arty, the gentle sound sculptor, and Squawk, the chaotic gremlin.

The frustrated reactions of Agent Rodriguez to the constant mayhem caused by Arty and Squawk.

Dr. Walsh's eccentric and often dangerous experiments in sonic manipulation.

Themes:

The power of sound and its ability to create and shape reality.

The importance of intention and emotional connection in using one's talents.

Finding friendship in the most unexpected places.

#ai generated #stupid ideas #shitpost #imaginary movie #google gemini #movie poster #poster #magical powers #imp #sounds #genre: comedy #genre: magical realism

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sadnesslaughs · 8 months

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You are a lich who, in an attempt to escape the hero, managed to telekinetically throw yourself into space and landed on the moon. After countless years, you’ve managed to create a comfortable life for yourself, only for a space shuttle and some astronauts to land nearby and plant a flag.

(A writing prompt response.)

In a vain attempt at self-preservation, I doomed myself to a lonely fate, blasting myself into space, landing on the moon. At first, I seethed, cursing the hero with all my might. How I would have loved to drag the hero with me, hold their neck as they suffocated before me. Watch them flail and try to scream as the life faded from their eyes. Though, with each passing year, my hatred faded. The hero would have died long ago and my grudge died with them. It’s hard to hate a dead man.

The moon became my home, and I did my best to make it comfortable. While I missed the comforts of a good book or even the aroma of a patch of flowers, I found other beauty to admire. I spent my days voyaging around the rock, finding a pleasant spot to sit and stare at the Earth, in awe of the fantastic nature of it all.

“Marvelous. A place of life and death, that turns even when the greatest people fade. I’m starting to see why you liked the place, hero. I think I liked it too at some stage, before I lost myself.” I stared at my boney hand, feeling a hit of melancholy, grieving something I longed to remember.

Then they arrived, a strange sight that mesmerized me. People on my rock? The shuttle disturbed the ground, sending dust floating away while I stood on and watched. How long had it been since I saw a human? Instantly I had the desire to control them, wanting to flee this cursed place. My left hand gripped my right, steadying it, stopping me from doing something I would regret.

Two figures emerged, both dressed in white spacesuits. They carried with them a flag of little importance. The symbols on it foreign to me, belonging to a group or leader on Earth. The figures descent down the stairs slowed when they saw me staring at them. One could only imagine what they were thinking. The pair seeing a skeleton staring at them, my green glowing eyes locked on the group, watching them hesitate.

I motioned them off the stairs, pointing towards myself. I had no intention of hurting them, at least not until I knew why they were here. They looked at one another before proceeding down the stairs, landing across from me. If I had skin, I would have smiled. Instead, I gave them a wave, trying not to show any hostilities.

“Hello, mortals.” I greeted.

They didn’t hear me, and I couldn’t hear them. When I learned talking was pointless, I moved aside and sat on the stairs, allowing them to do whatever they came to do in peace. They were wary of me, constantly looking over their shoulders. After a few minutes, that wariness faded, the two planting the flag while I watched, surprised to see how far humanity had come. When it came time for them to leave, I left the stairs, standing in front of their vessel. One of them paused before rushing up the stairs, finding a helmet and passing it to me. They motioned me to put it on and when I did; I heard a female’s voice.

“You’re actually real, aren’t you?”

“As real as any other creature. Why are you here, mortal?”

“To place a new flag on the moon. We also had to gather some samples.” She waved a small see through bag towards me, showing me a collection of small rocks gathered inside it. “Neat, right?”

“It is. What are your names?”

“I’m Luna, he’s Eric.”

“Don’t tell him my name. He might curse me.” Eric hissed, keeping his distance from me. He had better survival instincts than Luna. If I hadn’t spent so many years alone, I may have cursed them.

“Lighten up. Curses aren’t real. You sound like my great grandpa, Fredrick.”

“Fredrick?” That name sparked my attention. Hadn’t someone referred to the hero by that same name? I stood up, trying to peer into her helmet, unable to see anything but my own decayed face. She didn’t back away when I neared, allowing me to sate my curiosity.

“Yeah, he was a big deal, apparently. Said he got rid of a great monster or something like that. He must have been an author with the stories he made up. Also kept telling people to stay away from the moon. That’s why I wanted to explore it. I wanted to see if there actually was a monster up there.” As she said that, the realization set in, causing her to back up.

“Please tell me you're joking, Luna. Why didn’t you mention that before?” Eric tried to move towards the ship, only to realize I was blocking it. If he wanted to get on the ship, he would have to pass me. Noticing his dilemma, I stepped aside.

“He was a strange man, your great grandfather. Most people would crumble when they find themselves against unbeatable odds. Frederick instead thrived, working best when his back was against the wall. He forced me to defeat myself, banishing myself to this lonely place. Heh, it’s funny that of all people, his great granddaughter would give me a chance of returning to Earth.”

“Like hell I’m going to let you return.” That fire in her words made me laugh, like a recording of Frederick himself. Eric had already fled into the confines of the ship, leaving me and Luna to have a standoff.

“How would you stop me? You have no powers.”

“I would tackle you and let Eric escape.”

I laughed again. So careless and defiant, Frederick lived on. “You can’t keep me down for long. Without powers, you’re as good as dead. Still, I’ve lost my interest in destruction and death. Theres a beauty to the Earth that I couldn’t see while I was there.”

“There is, isn’t there?” We both stopped, staring at the Earth, admiring it in silence. If it wasn’t for Eric, we would have stood there for hours. When his voice called Luna back to the ship, we both snapped out of our stupor.

“You should go.”

“Do you want to come?” Luna offered.

“No, no, no! How would we even explain that to anyone? He’s better off staying here.” Eric said, fearing me as any normal human should.

“I suspect my place isn’t on the Earth anymore. At least not at the moment. Maybe some day I’ll return. For now, I wish to stare a little longer.” Before she left, I stopped her, asking her a question. “Do you think there’s anything left of me?” I asked, gazing at Luna.

“Anything left?”

“Of what I was before this. A human.”

“In great grandpa’s journal, he mentioned you appeared troubled. You’re not as much of a monster as you like to think you are.” She smiled, offering me her hand to shake. I reached up and shook it, feeling another touch of nostalgia as I watched her leave. As the ship took off, I saw her face in the window, those bright green eyes staring at me before she went to her seat. She even had those same green eyes.

#short stories #writing #writing prompt #story #writer

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guacamoleroll · 1 year

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𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖎'𝖒 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 「𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔬𝔨𝔲 𝔨𝔶𝔬𝔧𝔲𝔯𝔬」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. protective behavior, hurt/comfort, pre-established relationship, major character injury, medical supplies, body-centered gore, decapitation, minor character death, nudity, allusions to sexual content. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.

author's note. for those wondering, hold me closer is currently on hiatus while i create its scripts and work on other projects. i hope to finish it in the future, but that date is undetermined.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. it had started with lovely bright skies, a warm summer's day where the sun glowed against your skin. everything was perfect, the small town acting as a safe haven as your heart only lifted with feelings of love. but would it remain that way?

It had been a pleasant summer day, the breeze brushing past (Name)'s fingers — giving them vitality and life. There was a pep in her step, the smell of Sumire flowers aiding her walk along the crop fields. The stalks blew in a repetitive wave-like motion, each bending against one another before standing tall once more with the warm winds.

She had collected as many potatoes as possible — different types of assortments — while going back and forth between the fields and her estate. Her husband was known for his enormous appetite, even more for his partiality towards potatoes, sweet potatoes, to be specific. She had to make an agreement with some of the local farmers due to the abundance of supplies needed to sate his appetite. Most allowed her to collect as many of their crops as possible for a specific price — sometimes for money and sometimes for physical services.

The Sato family, an older couple whose children had long grown and moved away, were the main people she gathered crops from. She helped them frequently, often escorting Sato Kame to town due to her terrible vision. It was always a delight to see her, especially since she would enlighten (Name) on the stories of Kyojuro during his youth. He had been quite the firecracker, which didn't surprise anyone. And, of course, the older woman always had questions about future children.

"Sato-san." (Name) would warn, the woman only responding with a knowing look.

(Name) brushed her off with a small smile and a laugh, knowing any plans for family expansion would have to wait until the stubborn man retired — which knowing him, wouldn't be anytime soon. He took great pride in his work, but that was one of the things she loved about him. He had always been so good-natured, a quality instilled into him by his mother. Kyojuro often told stories of the woman, typically having a fond look on his face. He refrained from bringing those stories up around his family's estate, fearing that his father would go into a sorrow-fueled rampage.

Part of (Name) wanted to kick the older man straight, but he had his reasons. Everyone deals with loss differently, whether destructively or healthily. There was nothing anyone could do for that man if he weren't willing to look at himself and change. She hoped her smaller, kind gestures would help the man open up to his sons.

She gathered a couple more potatoes to place on top of the stack, wanting extra to create some food for Shinjuro and Senjuro on her next visit. She enjoyed visiting the old estate, growing rather fond of her brother-in-law — he was such an intelligent young man.

The sky had already darkened as she made her final trip back to the estate. She didn't like the feeling of being out this late, knowing the dangers that the night sky held well. The moon served as a beautiful reminder of the cruelest creatures that crept out of the shadows under its watchful gaze.

CRUNCH.

She paused her steady footsteps, listening closely to the ambiance of the fields. The only thing she could hear was the high-pitched sounds of insects and the soft patter of crops bending into one another. That pounding sensation in her heart wouldn't still, regardless. Something was wrong.

CRACK.

Whether it was an animal or not, she knew it was better to be safe than sorry. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she ever-so-slightly quickened her pace. She did not like what she saw, a large, hunched silhouette right in the middle of the path. But it was what was in its hand that had frightened her the most.

It took everything in her not to scream or run toward the creature in a burst of rage. Poor Sato-san. How could someone do something like that to such a sweet old woman? Even at a quick glance, (Name) could see the features of her decapitated head, eternally locked in an expression of fear.

With a quick prayer, she tightened her grip on a nichirin knife that she carried in one of her pockets. She took one step after another, listening carefully as it increased its approach. Her muscles tightened with fear, but she had to keep going.

Take one step, then another. Don't falter. Don't cry. Grip that basket tighter — don't let it see the knife in your hand. Keep the basket to the side; slow your pace-!

SNAP!

She threw the basket aimlessly at the demon before running for the town. It didn't create the distraction she wanted, powerful footsteps thudding against the dirt path behind her.

"Gah!" she cried out, feeling it claw against the fabric of her yukata. It pulled her backward, dragging her with a resounding thud as she landed on her chest. Strong hands pulled her by her shoulders, her back bending with an unpleasant sequence of pops.

Its claws dug deep into her skin and muscle, a chortled laugh escaping its mouth at her muffled groans of pain. The stench of blood surrounded her, oozing from the deep lacerations that stung in the open air. She attempted to twist into a better defensive position, depending on her instincts, as she landed on her back and locked eyes with her assaulter.

It was even uglier up close, with a malformed head shaped like that of a stag beetle. The demon's nails dug into the exposed skin of her leg, watching with pleasure as she let out a wail of agony.

It bent downward, mouth agape, to take a large bite out of her flesh. She raised a trembling hand, bringing it down with as much force as she could muster onto the back of its throat. It grabbed at her, throwing her a couple of feet away as it clawed desperately at the knife protruding from its neck.

She managed to wobble into a standing position, ignoring the pain in her bruised muscles as she sprinted for her estate. The lights from its lanterns illuminated a path of hope, tears of relief running down her face. She rushed past the entrance, stopping for a moment to catch her breath and look wearily into the distance. No more footsteps, not even monstrous screeches of pain.

But don't let your guard down.

She waddled to her bedroom, mind running ragged as she attempted to follow the same routine she had when Kyojuro returned from missions. Find the medical supplies. She had received a large quantity of them at the insistence of Shinobu, and couldn't be more grateful. Kyojuro was incredibly stubborn, refusing to seek medical attention at the Butterfly Estate unless it was a dire emergency. He had stated that he wanted to be cared for by his wife more than the Insect Hashira but had also begged (Name) not to tell her. She remembered her amusement at that fact, especially since Shinobu was extremely intelligent and probably knew had figured him out — hence the gift of supplies.

There was an assortment of bandages, but she couldn't completely see or reach many of her own injuries. She tried her best, sitting against the wall opposite the door and loosely wrapping the claw marks on her leg. It didn't seem like anything would work. Common sense left her as blood soaked through every time. Her hands were shaking incessantly, the shock rushing out of her system as she felt each of her limbs start to shut down. She could only listen to the world around her as she stared down at her battered body.

THUD.

Her breath hitched, swiping at another spare knife sitting at the table beside her. It remained in a vice grip as she attempted to tighten the bandage, but blood continued to soak through. She had to muffle her own staggered breathing, watching owlishly as something seemed to shuffle towards her door.

Had it already followed her here? It was incredibly likely; so much blood had left her that she had probably left a physical trail. She could even see some droplets showing her path in the room, creating a small puddle of red underneath her. She slid down, feeling all senses evade her as she balled into herself and cried, closing her eyes as the door slid open.

This is where she dies.

In her own home, built upon many happy memories and celebrations. They would all be covered up by the pain of a terrible demise. She prayed the Kyojuro wouldn't be the one to find her; she wouldn't be able to bare giving him such pain. She would never wish such a sight upon him.

"My love?"

The young hashira had returned early from his mission, wanting to surprise his wife with his presence. He had heard the collateral motions of her returning to the estate and wandered over to the room. His excited expression had melted into that of concern as he spotted the trail of blood leading from the estate's entrance toward their shared bedroom.

His hands slammed the shoji open, only to see the shaking balled form of his beloved. Her usually pristine hair had been matted with tears, sweat, and, more concerningly, blood. There was much more blood than he realized, seeping from wounds on her arms and legs and creating a pool beneath her.

Fear and anger gripped his heart and mind like a vice, an overwhelming instinct driving him to discover who or whatever had caused her such pain and to slaughter it immediately. He suppressed such primal urges, giving into a different instinct. He sat himself down in front of her, making himself smaller so as to not startle her anymore. His hand slowly hovered over her arm before settling over the hand containing the knife.

He frowned at the stark flinch in her entire body but didn't falter his motions as his gaze softened.

"(Name), look at me."

He hoped the call for her name would bring her out of her panicked stupor, but she seemed to only grow more fearful. Her grip on the knife became even tighter. Slowly but steadily, he pried her fingers open and replaced the knife with his own hand, interlocking their fingers. She squeezed tightly, and he had to stifle a pained groan at the stinging pain that shot out from his muscles.

That didn't matter to him. The only thing that mattered was making sure that she was okay. That she was safe and calm.

"My love, look at me," he pleaded. She seemed to finally recognize his voice, eyes shakily gazing up to look at the fiery pair that looked upon her with softness. Her breath was almost nonexistent, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin.

"Keep looking at me, firefly. It's going to be okay. You're safe."

Her grip somehow grew tighter before she burst into a loud and powerful sob. Words attempted to escape her lips, but they were garbled by her own panic. The inability to speak almost caused her to panic more as Kyojuro hushed her.

"It's okay, love. Copy me."

It took her a moment to understand what he was doing, a breathing technique that she had recognized from somewhere distant in her memory. Breathe in for four, hold for seven, out for eight — repeat. She attempted to copy him, stumbling in her first few tries.

"You've got it, my firefly. Keep going," he encouraged, continuing to breathe with her as he held both of her hands in his own. He rubbed circles into her palms, effectively grounding her as warmth sprung from his touch.

"Kyojuro," she croaked.

Seeing this as a sign, he brought her into his arms hesitantly. He tightened his embrace as she leaned closer into him, holding onto the fabric of his uniform. He kissed the crown of her head fervently, staying there for a moment to remind himself that his wife was safe. Making sure that she was settled, he lifted her a bit a placed her on their futon.

He was quiet for a while, taking the basket of medical supplies in hand and fixing her shaky patchwork. It was obvious that these lacerations had been deep, especially given the trail of blood leading into the room. He cleaned them gently before placing pressure on them and wrapping them tightly. It wasn't until he saw the wounds on her shoulders that he realized exactly what had made them.

A demon.

He looked her in the eyes, her own downcast onto her hands in her lap. She had been incredibly frightened, her own expression showing this clearly. Her brows were furrowed, her jaw was clenched, and her eyes were narrowed — she seemed to be repeating something in her head. Her mind was only repeating the memory of that same attack.

He kissed her on the cheek, kneeling before her as he held her hands. Multiple kisses were placed on her fingers, stroking carefully around the small cuts on her palms. He pressed a bit at her wrist, watching as she hissed in pain.

"We'll have to place a splint here," he explained before lightly pressing against the other one. She winced once again. "And another one here."

He let out a short breath, locking eyes with her. "If you don't mind me asking, love — where is the demon that caused this?" She nodded, trying to ignore that vengeful spark in his gaze.

"N-Near the farm, the one that the Sato's...oh no, they-" he watches in concern as she stumbles over her words, eyes reflecting the dark scene with better detail. Memories of the poor old woman's head, lying with that fearful expression on the side of the trail. That was if the demon hadn't gone back to devour her corpse more. The thought sent a shiver down (Name)'s spine.

She leaned over, holding her head in her hands as more tears escaped her eyes. "I had been able to fend it off, but — but Sato-san," she gasps out a breath, unable to finish the thought. Kyojuro could already tell exactly what his wife was implying, bringing her into an embrace as he nuzzled her neck.

A sorrow seeped deep into his bones. He was very familiar with the Sato couple — both were kind and often kept (Name) company while he was away on missions. He had grown up around them, being a close acquaintance with their youngest son when he was a child. Being a demon slayer required one to keep their emotions at a distance, but it was times like these that he couldn't help a couple of tears escape from his eyes. Sometimes things hit too close to home.

And the very thought that his own wife, the love of his life, could've been a fatal victim in the crossfire.

He shuddered to think of it.

"Kyo," she whispered, startling him out of his thoughts as he moved back to look at him. "You need to go."

There was a look in her eyes, a determined glimmer shining through from a formerly fearful, tear-stained face. She was still terrified, but even she knew that something had to do. That demon needed to be dealt with; her own comfort didn't matter to her until its life ended.

He partially agreed.

"Kaname," he called towards the open shoji. A flutter of bird wings echoed from the hall outside, the crow sweeping in and landing on his master's index finger. He nuzzles his beak into (Name)'s cheek gently, trying to comfort her. She almost cracked a smile at the sweet avian, fingers shakily reaching to stroke his feathers.

"Kaname, head to the inn and deliver this message to Hirota-san. There's a demon located outside of farmland on the east side of the town. Urgently take care of it," he commanded. The crow seemed to understand, speeding out the shoji. Kyojuro stood, closing the door behind the bird before making his way over to the closet. He gathered some clothes in his arms from both his closet and his wife's.

"Kyojuro," a soft voice called from behind him. He turned with a small hum, looking at (Name). Her expression had contorted, and her brows drew together in confusion. "Shouldn't you go after it yourself?"

He shook his head. "No, my love. That wouldn't be a good idea."

He walked over to her, carefully taking her by the arm and standing her to her feet. She wobbled for a moment, using her husband to stabilize herself and take a breath. She gave him this look, almost causing him to chuckle as he knew he needed to explain further.

She was always the curious one, but that was one of her charms.

"I don't want to frighten you, but there's the possibility the demon could wander here and try to finish the job. It wouldn't exactly be hard, given the trail that was left," he explained. She felt that familiar cold sweat return, holding onto his hand as she calmly breathed in and out. He cupped her cheek with his hand, the comforting warmth allowing her to relax.

"It's okay, firefly. Nothing will hurt you while I'm here." She smiles slightly before he gestures towards the clothing in his hands. He helped her out of her matted clothing and into some night clothes.

His eyes wandered across her nude back as she stepped into her undergarments, an infuriated gaze staring at the bruises forming on her skin. A squeak escaped from her lips as he wrapped his arms around her, his warm hands creating a startling sensation against her cool skin. This would normally have other effects on him, but the wounds marring her skin were the only thing on his mind. His fingers bristled downward, carefully brushing over some cuts as he observed her reaction. She shivered, leaning into him as her expression contorted into a grimace. He moved his hands to clearer areas of her torso, rubbing circles into her skin as he left chaste kisses against the back of her neck.

"The audacity of such a creature. If it were up to me, that demon would write on the floor and beg for mercy for who it had touched," he growled lowly, eyes narrowing as he looked upon her bandaged shoulders.

"Kyo," she sputtered softly, trembling as his protective arms encased her naked body. His hands trailed against her skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"My firefly. My beautiful wife. There is no need to worry anymore, my love. Nothing will dare hurt you in my presense," he mumbled into her neck, causing her to shake at the vibrations. He left light kisses around the bandages around her shoulders, careful not to stir any more pain.

She sighs, interlocking their fingers together. "My dear, loving husband. As much as I love you and your kisses, I will not be able to keep up with any salacious activity tonight."

He lets out a hearty laugh, feeling the tension in his muscles loosen at his wife's dry wit. Another charm of her. "I know, love. You've had a long day. I'll let you rest."

He finally helped her place on the rest of her night clothes, ensuring she didn't lift or stretch anything sore or sprained. He changed into his own quickly, blowing out the lanterns and pulling her underneath the covers of their futon. He pulled her close, his hand bracing her body against his own. They usually spooned, but tonight they chose to face one another. He nuzzled into her hair as she buried her face into his chest. The repetitive thump of his heart became a comforting ambiance to the hum that left his lips, feeling sleep overcome her as thoughts started to fade.

He knew he would be wide awake until Kaname flew back with news of the demon's demise and would probably remain awake for a while after that. All the ensure that she was safe. He couldn't help the pinch of fear in his heart, the what-if questions running through his mind. They all seemed to halt as he looked down, watching his wife slowly melt into a calm slumber. He kissed the top of her head.

"Rest easy, my love. Nothing will hurt you while I'm here."

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#f!reader #꒰ა ⎼ [rengoku]#muse's archives ‧₊˚ ⋅#rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader

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interact-if · 3 years

Photo

Day 4 of interviews! Please welcome to the stage... Pime!

Pime, author of The Passenger

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

Play as an eldritch abomination that’s about to be devoured by another unthinkable creature. Good news is you are pretty crafty and know how to jump dimensions to escape your ghastly fate; bad news is, you’re now stuck on Earth, trapped inside a dumb human larva.

As years go by, you realize the amount of energy you need to leave this horrible dimension behind is a lot more than you had expected. Not to mention the creature that almost ate you all those years ago never really stopped looking for you. But there’s no way it’ll pin point your actual location… right?

The Passenger Demo | Author’s Kofi | Discord | Read more [here]

Tags: sci-fi, horror

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

The Passenger is a project written in choicescript, it tells the story of an eldritch abomination MC that's about to fall prey to another lovecraftian creature. They escape at the last moment and through some interdimensional jumping they end up on Earth, trapping themself inside a human baby in the process. The game takes place 26 years later when MC realizes that the creature is still out there looking for them. Now they need to find a way to escape Earth before the hunter finds them and eats them.

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

The first time I came across this type of media, I was around 9 years old. It was one of those CYOA books—The Mystery of Chimney Rock iirc. It blew my mind because it mixed together two things I loved (and still love) a lot: reading, and playing games.

I enjoy writing character interactions and banter the most. I love trying to figure out what makes people tick, what they value the most, and what they don't care about—trying on different costumes so to speak—and interactive fiction is great for that sort of thing. I also enjoy thinking about different ways to overcome the same problem and the freedom of making a story your own through the choices you make.

I think the biggest challenge is putting myself in the shoes of a very logical character tbh; sometimes I have to think about how a cool, collected, analytical person would act in certain situations and it's just... tv static inside my head. Fortunately, IF is this weird collective storytelling in which players ask for choices to be added, so they truly save my bacon in that regard.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

Describing the type of scenery one encounters when hiking on the hills of Maryland. Thank the universe for those hiking bloggers.

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

I would say anyone but Fiama; she's so mature and has her life more or less figured out even though she would probably scoff at the notion. If I had to choose one romantic option that's the most like me, I’d pick Jonny: we like the same stuff, are socially awkward, and have the same you-do-you-just-don't-bother-me attitude. I tend to see the glass half full when his is mostly empty though.

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

Yes, and I don't think I did it on purpose; it sort of seeped in. Even if The Passenger is set in Maryland, there's little pieces of my own experiences and the experiences of people I've met here and there. Mostly poor folks' since that's what I know. Lots of working-class, too-tired, over-competent-for-the-job-they're-stuck-with types, young parents, passionate, stubborn, funny and loud people trying to do their best with the cards they were dealt. I guess this is true for almost everyone else, which speaks more about capitalism than ethnicity, but there you go.

I also try to sneak in mentions of Latin America whenever I can plus some nods to obscure Argentinian trivia.

Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

So many things! I love the collective storytelling part of interactive fiction: too many times I see somebody come up with a headcanon that blows the original (mainstream) work right out of the water and I’m left thinking that I would prefer their version over the canon thing, and with IF you have the power to do just that. I also love how much freedom it grants players since most of the time it lets you choose appearance, gender, sexuality, name… do you know how hard it is to find a game in which the MC is a Latino guy with brown eyes and a weakness for GNC people? It’s pretty hard.

Q7: Any advice to give?

To anyone, if you want to write interactive fiction, do it: someone out there will enjoy your game. To my Latinx siblings, the same I told everyone else with a vengeance. Our culture is as beautiful as it is diverse and I don’t know about you but I could do with some new stories, some new ideas that reflect something a bit closer to our childhoods and the stories of our families. That type of thing will always be innovative in a world that spits out 17 marvel movies per year and maybe one Latino character in a short by Disney.

#if: events #latino heritage month #latino authors #interactive fiction #choose your own adventure #cyoa #choose your story

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Albedo #Yandere x reader #Honestly it's not very yandere #My sleeping pills don't work again #my writing

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1kook · 4 years

Text

EXPLORER

jjk x female reader

FOR GCN’S ❝ 23 | JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY PROJECT ❞ ! Alien AU | “I want to have your last name!” | “I like when you do that, it makes me crazy.”

summary; Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. warnings; smut in the forms of cunnilingus, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, anal, tit play, and all that jazz bc surprise its tentacle porn rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous; FLUFF, strangers to friends to lovers, curious alien kook, there’s a saber tooth tiger mention, virginity is a social construct, they both have skewed perceptions of sex and love, and idk what else word count; 17.8k

notes; someone said once “all u ever do is write college aus 😃” and i was like lol true but i was also a virgo and was like “i’ll prove u wrong” and next thing i knew i was writing a 17k alien au clap for me lads

special thanks to; my savior and editor rumu ( @kigurumu ) who very politely tells me when im making up words n also when shit doesn't make sense but lets me make stupid final decisions that will come back to bite me in the ass<3 and also my gf yeji @suqakoo who watched me crash and burn about ten times while writing this monstrosity of fic and just laughed her support amazes me<3

BEFORE READING SEE HERE; body marks, under eye marks, sixam that i stole from the sims 4

He comes with the sole purpose of populating this uncharted territory with his seed.

Jungkook has been on many missions abroad. He’s visited about every planet in Sector 76 before this, the largest collection of neighboring galaxies known to exist. And because of that, he likes to think he’s well educated in extraterrestrial affairs, quite knowledgeable in the barbaric ways of the foreigners. They see, they mate. Pretty simple.

For the past couple years, as leading field researcher of Sixam, Jungkook has been exclusively studying every creature he comes across. He enjoys cataloging their habits, their mating cycles, and the unique culture they develop, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not.

Granted, he’s never been on a mission like this.

This type of mission has never been his.

When the great planet of Sixam wishes to settle colonies of new species— Sixamian bred with whatever other species that have deemed suitable —they usually task people like Namjoon or Seokjin, both high ranking generals of the Sixamian Intergalactic Corp. with a near immaculate genetic makeup. Their genotypes carry strong traits, and are oftentimes most reflected in their phenotypes as well. Beings like Namjoon or Jin are the epitome of what it means to be Sixamian, which is why Jungkook is surprised when they ask him to place his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7 of the Via Láctea solar system, otherwise known as ‘Earth.’

It wasn’t that Jungkook had major self image issues, nor did he think he was particularly bad to look at. In fact, Jungkook thinks he’s pretty amazing. Of course he doesn’t compare to Namjoon or Jin, but quite frankly, the comparison is skewed by the fact he works in a different field than them. You cannot compare black holes to asteroid belts; in a similar fashion, you cannot compare military generals to scientific researchers.

Anyway, Jungkook has never been to Planet 43 Z-7, but some of his coworkers have. They all claim it is a beautiful place, filled to the brim with life and culture never before seen.

Frankly, Jungkook doesn’t believe it.

He’s seen hundreds of planets, thousands of species, so he hardly feels amazed anymore. There is nothing enjoyable about other planets when he comes from Sixam, quite possibly the most intellectually advanced one in the universe. And he says this having met Yoongi of Planet 732 T-1, another being near immaculate in terms of cognitive abilities.

But not as perfect as Sixamians.

Hoseok says Planet 43 Z-7 has all sorts of unique artifacts, like these edible arrangements called ‘hot dogs’ you eat between two pieces of raised yeast. Planet 43 Z-7 has been unmarked for eons now, but is a popular hideout for rebelling Sixamians during their early years. Jungkook was never one of those types, but he has a handful of friends who were.

Needless to say, Jungkook isn’t looking forward to his mission. He asks Namjoon and Jin for tips on how to approach the reproductive members in the species, if there’s any protocol he needs to follow, but they simply laugh it off. They’ve both had the pleasure of, well, pleasuring some of the most beautiful creatures in the universe, so Jungkook’s incompetence must be a sight to see.

Airship handler Jimin is the last face he sees on Sixam. He’s as relaxed as ever, strapping Jungkook into his travel pod like this is just another one of his research trips and not his first ever population operation. He pats his shoulder once, tells him to bring him back something called a ‘Nintendo DS’ that his partner Taehyung has been begging for since the last time they went to Planet 43 Z-7, but Jungkook has no idea what that is.

And then he’s off.

Jungkook has long since grown comfortable with the emptiness of space, a desolate feeling that oddly made him feel at home. But, as he hurtles towards his destination, there’s a newfound sense of anxiety that consumes him at the thought of this unknown planet— this ‘Earth’ that his fellow Sixamian friends speak so highly about.

He lands in a field. Well, ‘lands’ is a bit of a stretch; his pod comes to a stop a few feet above Planet 43 Z-7’s surface, hovering over the natural flora that seems to grow in abundance in this part of the planet. It’s… dirty, compared to the sleek skyscrapers and glowing structures of Sixam.

He steps out tentatively, the vegetation crunching beneath the boots of his skintight spacesuit. The folks back at Sixam had told him that whatever the residents of this planet breathed in was compatible with Sixamians, but he still hesitates to click off his helmet.

The planet is quiet, save for the quiet chirping of some creature underground. The AI on his helmet pulls up the information before his very eyes, the advanced technology quickly tapping into wherever it was these beings stored their information. A mole cricket, he reads, first documented by a researcher about two hundred human years back. Very annoying.

His pod seals itself shut again, presumably heading back into orbit until Jungkook calls for it again. With it gone, he’s faced with the vast nothingness of Planet 43 Z-7, just grass and trees with very few things in between. He’s beginning to suspect Jimin might have sent him to the wrong coordinates, a void space on the planet with nothing but vegetation for miles.

Part of him is frustrated, beyond annoyed that he cannot even complete the one thing he came to do if there is no being in sight. But another part, the part of him that had been nervous to even accept this mission, feels grateful. Well, there was no use complaining about it now, he thinks. He pulls up his virtual journal, ready to catalogue every bit of vegetation he can set his eyes on.

After a while, his helmet becomes stuffy, the digital screen that plays over the glass piece fogging up with his breath. So Jungkook takes his chances and clicks it off, the sudden wash of oxygen filling his lungs quickly. It’s fresh and moist? It smells like his laboratories back on Sixam, the ones that took years of countless trips around the universe and meticulous gardening to cultivate. Yet here on Planet 43 Z-7, this type of phenomenon is common, and apparently, ignored by its residents.

One man’s trash was another man’s treasure, he supposes.

He’s scanning a peculiar organism, reddish and dome-shaped, when he hears the first crack of a twig. Immediately, his defenses rise. Jungkook was by no means a skilled warrior, but most Sixamians fared better than other creatures in the universe. Save for the few barbarian, primitive species they’ve encountered, 9/10 times any wild encounter was in their favor.

His eyes scan over the perimeter of the field, scanning, scanning, scanning— until he spots two, huge, glowing yellow eyes from distance. His eyes widen, flicking on the retractable blaster from his wrist and pointing it at the creature.

It’s bigger than him, with eyes that look over only a short distance before gradually dying down. He wonders if that’s the scope of its field of vision, crouching down along the vegetation. He creeps closer, rounds the bright beams until he can see the creature’s side, an oddly shaped thing, almost like a shell. It has wheels, he realizes, mentally jotting down the fact this species is advanced enough to develop such technology on their own.

Right as he’s beginning to lower his wrist, deciding this metal creature posed no threat from its lack of movement, something smaller moves around it, carrying a compact version of those glowing eyes.

Jungkook panics, wildly clicking through the modes on his wrists. He jumps from his blaster to the thermal detector, and the smaller creature that moves around the metal beast has a heat signature he’s never seen before, warmth that begins at its core but doesn’t drop drastically as it fans out. And then he’s switching to his electroscope and is startled to see that the smaller creature even carries an electric charge beneath its outer membrane.

This is terrifying, he thinks to himself, wondering why his friends back home had decided to trick him into believing Planet 43 Z-7 was remotely safe.

Before Jungkook can act rashly and accidentally kill that terrifying creature, he’s blindly stepping into a hole in the ground, a dip in the field. An uncontrollable yelp tears itself from his throat at the roll of his ankle.

Immediately, the yellow eye is upon him, flickering over his kneeling form in the vegetation. Jungkook freezes, caught in the all-seeing rays of the yellow eye. He wonders if this is the end, the end of an undoubtedly legendary run, as the creature slowly approaches.

Its figure is shrouded, the blinding eye turning them into just a silhouette that closes in on Jungkook fairly quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he never stepped out of his pod, when the beam flickers off.

“Hello?” a hesitant voice calls out, and then he’s met with you.

You had always believed holding out until marriage would come as an advantage. You played it safe your entire life, always did what you were told. You had grown up in a relatively traditional household, always following the rules like a good kid. Your parents said no dating until seventeen? You waited until seventeen. Your health classes in school said practice abstinence? You practiced abstinence.

Following the rules was what got you into a prestigious university. Following the rules is what got you your first, quite admirable, job. Following the rules is what had gotten you into your first serious relationship with your boyfriend, who became your fiancé, who would become the man to cheat on you three nights before your wedding.

Being a virgin— that symbol of purity —was supposed to make you desirable to men, you thought. It was supposed to protect you from bad experiences, keep you perfectly polished until the time came. You had many a friend who had engaged in sex at a young age, experienced mind blowing sex that would never be topped, even by their own future husbands. You had saved yourself from disappointment by saving yourself in general.

Except that concept, that meticulously followed tradition, was what ultimately drove your fiancé away.

Three days.

Three days before you would marry and lose that treasured thing you had been carrying around for the past twenty-five years, flushed clean down the drain all because he couldn’t wait any longer. He had managed four years with you, four memorable years where he had religiously told you he loved you every chance he got, regardless of your lack of sex life. Just to blow it for some barely legal chick at a bar.

Needless to say, you were done. Absolutely finished with him and your friends who claimed they “weren’t surprised” only after the fact, or your parents who had urged you to try again. You were done with this saving and waiting all for a man who ultimately did you dirty. You needed to get away from it all, and the only way to do that was to leave the city all together.

Your parents were uncomfortable with the idea. They said it was too brash a decision to give up after one try. But your whole future had been riding on this one try, and to have it completely ripped away from you crushed not only your hope but your pride.

On the other hand, your grandmother and her lifelong experiences with men understood you just perfectly. She was old, living in a retirement home near your parents’ home in one of your city’s many suburbs. There was a house out in the countryside, about a two-hour drive from the city. She had grown up there, and even though she hadn’t lived there in years, she simply couldn’t bring herself to sell it off. So she gave it to you.

It was a cute little thing, a stereotypical farmhouse surrounded by miles and miles of nothingness. Well, your neighbors were about half a mile off on either side, but who was walking half a mile for a cup of sugar? No one.

You loved it.

It was peace and quiet, long days of focusing on yourself and your tiny garden outback. There was no societal pressure to act right, or forced ideologies to make yourself the ‘perfect woman.’ It was just you and a stray cat that visited now and then, spending day after day reading and writing, working from home.

The trips into the city were far and few between. There was a general store close to your house, nestled into a quaint little town you visited every so often. And the mailmen still had to make their stops through here, so everything was practically at your fingertips. The only thing you had to do in the city was drop by the main branch office of your job. Your work had mostly been over a computer before, so moving to work at home was rather easy. However, there was still the occasional board meeting to sit through.

So here you were, three months into your new living situation and on your way back home from the city. The evening sun is beating down hot on your yellow Beetle. You were in desperate need for a check up, but you kept pushing it off and telling yourself tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. It seems tomorrow should have been today, because by the time the sun is setting, home is still another thirty minutes away and the temperature gauge is climbing to unhealthy levels.

The Beetle pushes for another two minutes before wheezing to a stop in the middle of nowhere, your angry slaps against the dashboard doing nothing to revive it. With a muttered curse, you switch the car off. The front lights remain on even as you round the dead car, angrily kicking the tire with your heel. It doesn’t budge.

You sigh, sinking down to your knees beside the opened door you came out of. The nearest mechanic was still a forty minutes’ drive from here, and you doubt anyone is still open. The con of small towns is that most of the businesses close after sunset. One glance at your phone lets you know it’s way too late to call anyone for help. You contemplate just walking to your house, but it’s dark and far, and your heels were only meant to be worn for an hour or two during your meeting. Not for an entire transcontinental trek back home.

Sighing, you decide your best bet is tinkering around yourself. You weren’t a total idiot, so you hope whatever is wrong with your car is something you can fix on your own. You shoot back up to your feet, patting the blood back into your face as you round the car.

There’s nothing but you and the Beetle for miles on end— or so you think.

Just as you flicker your flashlight over the expanse of grass, there’s a startled shout that scares the living daylights out of you, flashlight fumbling in your hand in your haste to see what it was.

Great, so not only were you stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but your heels to carry you to safety, but now there was also a man out there, hiding in the tall grass like a voyeur.

It’s a terrible idea, but you approach him anyway. There’s a huddled figure, a gleam of a bizarre outfit that has you shaking in your heels as you step closer to the edge of the road. And when you finally get close enough, the light shining over their figure, you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking at.

“Hello?” you call out, and are met with the most violet eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

Jungkook thinks you are an odd creature.

To begin with, you carry an electrical charge at your fingertips but are unable to revive your rickety metal ride with said touch. It is undoubtedly a trait he does not remember cataloguing in any other species before yours; it might rival the Sixamians’ aura sensing abilities, the little triangular markings beneath their eyes that allowed them to alter another’s emotions. Electricity beneath surface, he mentally notes for the nth time that night.

The inside of your vehicle is disgustingly mediocre, a mixture of old clogs and pipes he’s only seen in ancient Sixamian textbooks. Still, they’re devastatingly easy to figure out. One simple twist of a lid later and your car is revving back to life. You squeal and clap, clacking around on the frankly terrifying footwear you call heels that are practically knives as stilts.

Amazing, you cry, moving like a mini tornado around him. You don’t seem the least bit phased by his appearance, despite the initial shock you’d gotten when you first made eye contact. Actually, Jungkook thinks you might be the quickest extraterrestrial being to accept his existence as fact. He has to wonder what exactly goes on here that has these Humans, as Jimin has called them, so desensitized to the appearance of otherworldly figures such as himself.

You invite him into your moving death trap, not the least bit concerned with the chest piece of armor he removes and tosses into the seats behind him. Jungkook has been in a lot of near death situations, and somehow your manner of driving this metal box marks high on the list.

“My home,” you tell him when you finally pull up to a tiny shack of a house. It’s about the same size as his personal lab back on Sixam, so he wonders just which one of you is being deluded by the size. The car engine shuts off with a practiced flick of your wrist, and then you’re making your way up the front steps without sparing him a glance.

“Lovely,” he says at the entrance. He moves to travel deeper inside, but you warn him to remove his shoes. He does, hesitantly, bare feet padding along the wooden floors behind you. “Forgive me,” he apologizes, watching you bumble around a small space with a standing cooler and heat box. “I haven’t asked your name.”

You hum, tugging out two cups from a hanging cabinet. You fill them with a white substance, followed by a light brown powder that almost makes you sneeze, before shoving them into the heat box that begins suspiciously counting down. “__ ___,” you offer.

Jungkook frowns. “You have two names?” he asks skeptically. In Sixam, rarely anyone had two names. “Are you a government official?”

You laugh. “No, but I do work for an office. I have one name, and then my last name,” you explain.

This only perplexes him more. “A last name?” he repeats. “What is the purpose of this last name?”

You shrug, and the heat box beeps loudly. Jungkook twitches, ready to aim his blaster once more but you calm the beeping box with a gentle click that has the front opening, the most heavenly scent wafting into his nostrils. Oh Jungkook definitely needed to take that back. Much to his surprise, you hand him one of the handled cups, the sweet smell making his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Well,” you say, seemingly unaware of the way you just changed Jungkook’s entire life. “I have my name, and then I have my family’s name. Like, to show we’re in the same group, kinda,” you explain. “And it also helps sort of differentiate you from other people with the same first name.” You settle down on a seat in front of the counter, carefully blowing across the liquid contents of the mug. Jungkook doesn’t get why until he tries to take a sip and the liquid scalds his tongue. You laugh. “Gotta cool it down, silly.”

He feels silly. In fact, he feels beyond embarrassed that someone who is not a Sixamian is looking at him with the same eyes you look at an infant with. He has a strong need to reinforce his superiority over you.

“Well I am Jungkook,” he announces proudly. “Jungkook of Sixam. The only Jungkook of Sixam, because we do not believe in sharing something as intimate as our names with another,” he huffs. You scoff, a genuine look of amusement crossing your features that Jungkook simply does not understand.

It’s with a practiced grace that you set your cup down on the counter, face coming to a rest in in the palm of your hand as you watch him talk over himself about the intricacies of Sixamian names, and how each one is carefully selected at one’s first celebration to honor the first long year of life they overcame. That look on your face, that disgustingly entertained expression does not melt away, even when Jungkook hastily calls your people imbeciles to your face.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, staring deep into the contents of your hot cocoa, as you had called it when offering him a second cup, as if you don’t seem to disagree in the slightest. “Humans are like that.

There’s a quality to your voice, a rather melancholy tone that curls around your words that stops Jungkook’s tirade against your race for a moment. There’s a look in your eyes, hollow and alone, that he cannot place. He wonders if it’s from past experiences or from a shared Human trauma. Either way, he does not understand.

It’s with a shake of your head that you look up at him again, sweet smile back on your features. “Humans are selfish creatures, Jungkook,” you say.

He is not sure if he believes you.

Jungkook has traveled to many parts of the universe, has visited places your tiny Human brain may never comprehend. Yet he has not always received this treatment. There have been missions where he has been picked on and abused for his curiosity, rudely ejected back into the vast emptiness of space just because he wanted to know more, learn more. Not every planet welcomes him with a soft smile and a warm place to stay.

Despite the initial unimpressed confusion he felt upon entering Planet 43 Z-7, there is something about the quirk of your lips and gentle tapping of your fingers that intrigues him.

Huh, he thinks, subconsciously cataloguing your mannerisms in his head. He will write about this later.

You let Jungkook sleep in your quarters, a small area with a mattress that he sinks into with delight. There’s a change of clothing you set out on the edge of the bed, a rather shabby set that matches yours. He is reluctant to peel away his bodysuit, even more so when he realizes he is standing naked on a foreign planet with a very strange creature clattering around downstairs. He hurries into the clothes.

You peek your head into the room later on, carefully flicking off the lights as he settles onto the mattress. Jungkook is beyond tired, body fatigued from hurtling thousands of light years through space in such a short amount of time. The abundance of breathable oxygen is still something his body has to grow accustomed to. Your voice is soft as you whisper out a goodnight farewell that he can only sleepily mumble back.

Jungkook is quite literally the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. Well, person is a stretch considering you’re not entirely sure what he is, or where he’s from. When you found him, sadly crouched in the middle of nowhere, you wanted to convince yourself he was some random college boy lost on his way to a costume convention. But he’s not. His big purple irises are oddly bright, practically luminescent, and that’s definitely not something one could achieve through stage makeup. And he’s not a college student either, despite how youthful he looks, but a foreign being at least three times your age.

Or so he says.

Honestly, you’re torn between wanting to write him off a nutjob or believing he is this highly intelligent extraterrestrial being. In the case he is the latter, you find it odd that of all the planets in your solar system— a whopping eight, maybe nine —he chose crappy old Earth to visit.

Jungkook moves like a fine tuned instrument, graceful limbs wandering around your home and backyard the next morning. His little head piece, a unique accessory that wraps around the base of his skull like a microphone headset or something, seems to keep him in constant communication with his fellow brethren so long as he wears it. So he wears it all the time.

Still, you’re able to differentiate between his messages back home and his mindless mumbles. Those usually happen more often than not, soft muttering as he inspects your garden, vivid descriptions of the plainest things like an onion.

“Lemonade’s ready,” you call, stepping into your backyard. Jungkook peers over your rosemaries like a bunny, wide eyes scanning the pitcher you set out on your back porch’s table. Carefully, he steps around your meticulous rows of vegetables. He’s wearing the clothes you lent him last night, a pair of shorts and a shirt your brother had left when he visited a few weeks ago. They fit him nicely, shorts just shy of his knees.

“This is lemond-aid?” he asks quizzically, tentative hands reaching for the quickly perspiring glass. He has unique markings that begin at his hands, twisting and curling carefully around his arms. They’re gold in the sunlight, contrasting softly against his relatively peachy skin. There’s a matching set on his knees that wrap over and around his thighs, beneath his shorts. He looks every bit the celestial being, yet here he is marveling over the lemon slice balanced on the rim of his glass.

“Lemonade,” you correct, sitting down on your rocking chair. Your floppy sun hat protects you from the brutal rays of the sun, practically scorching in this summer heat. It reminds you of the honeymoon you were supposed to take a few months back. You stomp out the memory.

Jungkook takes tentative sips, stopping every few seconds to smack his lips at the taste. Then, suddenly, he’s plopping down on the wooden planks of your porch criss-cross applesauce. The bracelet-like contraption he had removed from his suit is sitting on his wrist by itself, with Jungkook rapidly tapping some unseeable button on it until a blue hologram appears between the two of you.

“Woah,” you gasp, the projection flawless and stable. Jungkook gets to work tapping at it, unrecognizable symbols appearing on the screen. His glass of lemonade is by his knee, ice tinkling inside.

“Lemond-aide,” he repeats, mouth moving awkwardly around the world. He glances at you for confirmation. You shake your head. Frustrated, he scoots up beside you, pressed against your leg like a puppy. “Say it,” he commands, tapping at his screen once.

You clear your throat. “Uh, lemonade?” you offer. Jungkook nods, clicks something else, and then your voice is repeating itself back to the two of you. He looks for your approval once more. “Perfect,” you nod, slightly bashful to hear your own voice played back like that.

Content with your approval, he gets back to work, clicking and typing wildly at the screen until it’s filled to the brim with those strange symbols. When he’s done, he says his name and date into the same recording device and shuts off his hologram. “It is an interesting thing,” he says quietly, bare feet swinging over the edge of the porch. “A sweet drink procured from a tangy fruit.”

You nod, can’t stop the smile that consumes your features at his childlike wonder. You know it’s not his fault that such simple things astound him, but there’s something about Jungkook’s genuine curiosity and snarky tongue that make you feel young again. Like a teenager in her prime, sitting with a silly high school boy. Not a woman sitting on the cusp of thirty, alone and untrusting of the world.

“What are hot dogs?” Jungkook cuts in abruptly, turning to face you with those purple eyes of his. You can’t help it; you laugh.

“I have some in the fridge,” you answer, leaving your rocking chair and him on the porch. Jungkook doesn’t sit still for long, quietly trailing behind you inside the house. The stray cat is here today, slinking around your ankles as you scour the fridge for the hot dogs. It’s a perfect day for a barbecue, you think, with hot dogs and lemonade.

The cat wanders over towards Jungkook, sniffing at his ankles before nuzzling against him too. “You also have smilodon on your planet,” he comments. “You are comfortable with such murderous beasts in your home?”

You furrow your brows. “It’s just a cat,” you shrug, leaning down to pick up the furry baby. He purrs against your chest while Jungkook glares at it.

“Have you taken its teeth for your own?” he asks.

“What?” you laugh. “He has all his teeth.”

Jungkook frowns. “No, his unusually large canines,” he explains, mimics two giant fangs with his fingers. “Is this a kitten of a smilodon?” You have no idea what he’s saying at this point, rubbing the cat’s back gently as Jungkook talks over himself. He does that a lot, you realize, ramble about facts you would otherwise see as of little importance.

The afternoon is spent grilling hot dogs, Jungkook carefully trailing the cat he has taken to calling Smilodon. You watch from the grill as he follows the cat around the garden, gently shooing it off when it gets too close to your broccoli plants. He’s cute, you think, watching him maneuver around your plants with the grace of a trained dancer.

He absolutely adores the hot dogs, spending another twenty minutes typing out one of those funky journal entries into the computer in his wristband. He asks about the Nintendo DS, something that makes you laugh boisterously at the absurdity of the question.

When it gets dark outside, he stands in one place and stares up at the sky, rendered motionless at the sight. Jungkook doesn’t like coffee, but he loves hot cocoa. He settles in to watch the nightly news with you, every five minutes filled with an abundance of questions about your planet— which he refers to by a unique set of numbers and letters you’ve never heard before —and what you like to do. Every tidbit of information is documented in his wristband.

He sleeps on the couch this time, feeling shameful to have pulled you away from such an amazing mattress. He says goodnight shyly from the bottom of the stairs, followed by a tentative wave he saw you give the mailman that morning. You say it back and fall asleep, the alien in your living room not making a peep.

Thus a whole week passes with Jungkook of Sixam.

On the seventh day of his stay, Jungkook is woken up by the quiet beeping of his headpiece. It’s Chief Kim Namjoon, calling to ask how his population operation of Planet 43 Z-7 is going. Jungkook stills, the quiet chirping of the birds outside your window filling in the space. The water is running somewhere inside your house, signaling your conscious state.

His answers are quick and sharp, nervous laughter falling from his lips as he rushes to end the call with Namjoon. He manages to do so just as you appear in the living room, skin nice and dewy from your morning shower, eyes still showing signs of your peaceful slumber.

“Good morning,” you rasp quietly, a soft ruffle of his hair as you pass by Jungkook on your way to the kitchen. His face feels warm, under eye markings surely glowing a vivid red at the gesture you have gradually ingrained into him, one that makes his heart rev up like an engine preparing to shoot off millions of light years into the distance.

Jungkook enters the kitchen behind you, your pet smilodon greeting the two of you with a gentle head butt against his ankles that is unlike any other smilodon he has encountered before. He sits at the counter as you work on breakfast, the faint scent of your cucumber body scrub wafting by with every turn you make in the small kitchen.

And then he’s thinking.

There are a few crucial bits of information that Jungkook has come to realize over the past week, some of which he hears directly from you, others he picks up from watching your ancient projection in the living room.

One: of the variety of human genders that exist on Earth, you are one that seems to carry the specific set of bodily structures necessary for reproduction. He’s inspected you carefully the last few days, watching the way you move and carry yourself, just to ensure such is true. By finding you right away, Jungkook was halfway to his goal of settling his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7.

Two: unlike most humans of Planet 43 Z-7, your body seems oddly… preserved, to say the least. He knows you are familiar with their reproductive rituals as he’s watched a few of said rituals on the projection box in your living room with you. They were very normalized among your people, with almost every broadcast including at least one mention of them every day. Despite that, your body shows no significant reaction to the scenes, and one sneaky scan of your vitals shows Jungkook that you have yet to participate in this ritual yourself.

Lastly, Jungkook has come to the terrible, godawful conclusion that he does not wish to rope you into breeding with him for the sake of Sixam’s colonialist ways. There’s something about you and your people that does not deserve to be seized by Jungkook and his people. A sort of untouched quality of the progression of your species.

As the oldest and most advanced planet in quite possibly the entire universe, Sixam holds significant power over everyone else. Their higher order brains have helped many a planet follow the right path in attaining the same level of perfection. They were saviors of some sort, touching every planet they visited with the finger of a god. While there were certainly some Sixamians who did not believe in this way of life, of stretching their hold across entire galaxies, others did.

Jungkook had always fallen in the middle. He had no particular desire to reign over the planets he visited, because his interests had always laid with the existence of the individuals on said planets. He was a researcher, not a military official like Namjoon or Jin. But he has to admit that time and again his research has procured the same results; while there were certainly other planets where the beings were more beautiful or the landscape more stunning than that of Sixam, there was not a single planet that matched their advanced mental capabilities.

Until now.

Your civilization moved in a rather fluid way, always changing and never settling. There were eras he learned about on TV, revolutions where one invention rose to prominence, where one sub-race rose to power. Even now, a simple scan through your news broadcasts leaves Jungkook curious. For the first time in a long time, his countless journal entries of information do not lead him to a plausible conclusion. Would you make it right and settle your disputes? Or would this endless fighting, sometimes carried out passively and through words, other times with the use of advanced weaponry, continue until the end of time? Jungkook didn’t know.

And it was wrong of him to ask you to carry the burden of introducing an entirely new species— a Human and Sixamian at once —for the sole belief that it would somehow “fix” your planet. For the sake of your people, it was best if Jungkook just bugged off.

And yet, the soft scent of your body lotion, the gentle brush of your hands against his scalp, the delicate way his name rolls off your lips like you’re tasting it for the first time, they all make his heart beat unnaturally fast beneath his skin. They make him yearn for a feeling, an emotion, he cannot quite describe.

He was in trouble.

Ovulation creeps up on you early into the next week.

You hadn’t been too focused on it this time around, mostly just worried about your period and how awkward it would feel around Jungkook of Sixam. Preoccupied with stockpiling pads and finding your heat pad, you forget about the few days before the period. The time where your libido rages like an animal that has been poked at one too many times.

The realization dawns on you slowly. Jungkook is sitting on the couch, avidly watching a documentary on ancient civilizations. He’s got one hand in a bowl of popcorn you set out for him, another mindlessly toying with a stray thread on a throw pillow. It’s when he looks at you with those big purple eyes, lips pouty and pink, that something distinctly carnal flickers on inside of you.

You ignore it. You wrap those feelings in a box and shove it deep into the recesses of your mind.

But Jungkook was devastatingly handsome, that much you’d known from the moment you saw him. When he’s not in the sun, those Sixamian markings wrap around his body in charcoal streaks, peeking out from the hem of whatever clothes you find for him everyday. For the most part, he’s been running through the pack of plain shirts you picked up from the general store, and the same two pairs of shorts on rotation. His body is artfully toned, thighs big and bulging, but waist small and tapered. His lower lip is the juiciest pink color you’ve ever seen, plush and soft, framing two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair is jet black, part favoring one side more than the other.

His hands are firm on the rare occasion he touches you; on your hips when you stumble around the kitchen, on your shoulder when he’s pointing out a particular constellation to you. Jungkook’s presence slowly begins driving you to insanity.

The worst thing is, you cannot tell if his curiosity comes from your status as a potential partner or his overall interests in your species. You want to convince yourself that he is just as interested in your body as an individual as you are his, but those hopes are dashed with every question he asks. Where does the sink drain? Where does the chocolate powder come from? How far is the nearest government official?

So you calm your thoughts, push them away with the same practiced ease you’ve mastered from a young age. Your purity remains untainted by others, only teased in the shower when Jungkook is wandering around outside. Then and only then do you offer yourself a reprieve, press your fingers down between your thighs and wonder what it is like to have someone else there.

You picture two purple eyes peering up at you from below, a pink tongue carefully licking against your puffy folds until you’re shaking. How well endowed was a Sixamian? You didn’t know, but you imagine them to be quite big if the subtle shifts you catch of Jungkook every now and then are any sign.

One finger wiggles past the tight ring of muscle surrounding your hole, the intrusion makes your knees buck. You sink along the shower wall, huffing and puffing as your fingers dance along your swollen clit, thumb swirling hurried circles around the bud until you’re cumming, body spasming from the force.

The water rains down on you, washes your shameful acts down the drain. Vaguely, you wonder if Jungkook is still outside or if the heat drove him into your air conditioned home. Did he hear you? For all his curiosity, you’re certain there are some aspects of the human experience that Jungkook did not want to see. His roommate/caretaker/only-human-friend masturbating was probably one of them.

It has been years since your fantasies included any other man, faithfully revolving around your ex-fiancé until the very end. It is scary how quickly the mere idea of Jungkook riles you up, how that violet gaze is enough to tear you apart.

When you resurface in the living room, the house is still. The only sounds are that of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the occasional creaking of the pipes. Jungkook is still outside, you sigh in relief, catching his fluffy head of hair bounding across the front yard with Smilodon on his heels. When he turns, you catch his eyes and he pauses. He offers you that same cute wave he learned last week, gentle smile gracing his features.

It’s the soft curve of his cheeks, eyes crinkling at the corners, that make the rapid thumping in your chest settle. You raise your hand, waving back through the window. All was well.

For now.

The next morning brings with it an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Namjoon calls him again in the morning, and this time Jungkook cannot skirt around the truth. He hurriedly tells his friend of his findings, of the beautiful society that flourishes on Planet 43 Z-7, and the never-ending personalities he has the chance of encountering. There is an author fansign, you told him, of a book he thoroughly enjoyed taking place next week. There is a woman in town who can fix any technology sent her way. There is a group of children who pass by and sell you food, these flattened things called Girls Cout Cook Ease. There is so much to see and so much to learn that it has Jungkook unconsciously projecting his excitement via his under eye markings.

You come downstairs mid-call, smiley and ditzy. You were normally a bubbly person, but this much excitement can’t possibly be yours. It’s the sign Jungkook needs to settle down, but Namjoon offers him one too.

Much to his chagrin, he warns Jungkook against getting too comfortable, tells him to finish his operation and scram as quickly as possible. The Higher Sixamian Court does not take kindly to Sixamians becoming enamored with other planets, especially if they are as advanced as Jungkook claims them to be. He’s rushing out information, begging Jungkook to finish or abandon his mission, anything but stay too long, and before Jungkook can respond, their comms are abruptly shut off.

He’s left blankly staring at your coffee table, Namjoon’s caution ringing loudly in his ears.

After the effects of his accidental influence wear off on you, you shake yourself awake, confusedly glancing around the place before shrugging it off. “Morning,” you say, the same as ever, patting his head softly. Jungkook watches you begin your daily routine, the kettle running on the stove as you get to work preparing his hot cocoa.

For a moment he wonders what it’s like to be like this, to live like this. Free from the standards of Sixam as you go about your morning. There is no drive in you to conquer everyone, no overwhelming need to ‘fix’ those around you. You exist by yourself in this tiny house outside the city, like a moon always circling but never interacting. He knows you have your own circumstances that drove you here, issues where you suffered that same grueling past of people forcing ideas and beliefs upon you as Jungkook. But now you’re here, housing an extraterrestrial being such as himself without any payment.

He wants to be like you.

He wanders over towards the kitchen, returning your sleepy smile when you catch his gaze. Jungkook likes this. He enjoys seeing you in the morning, still trailed by the remnants of sleep, with skin tender to the touch. The smell of cocoa filling his nostrils, the chirp of the birds outside your window. He likes Smilodon and the mailman, and the woman half a mile from here who brought you peaches the other day.

Most importantly, Jungkook likes you.

Not as a breeding partner or convenient hostess, but as a person. Your laughter makes him feel warm inside, like he is genuinely appreciated as is. You’re gentle with your words, and even more so with your touch; hands pat his head, hold his arm when he stumbles too close to the garden.

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

He wants to remain beside you.

It’s a little stuffy inside your house today, a problem you solve by cracking open the kitchen window. A nice breeze flows over the two of you, pushing the scent of the cocoa and your coffee his way. But a sweeter one follows, something thick and earthy that rolls off of you in waves. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, tries to ward off those sounds he heard from you just yesterday afternoon.

Those whiny sounds, airy whimpers that had drifted down from upstairs. A wet squelch that had registered a little too loudly to his superior ears. It had haunted him last night on the couch, made Jungkook twist and turn until the fuzzy image of you relieving yourself went away.

Jungkook wanted to help with that too. He wanted to put his hands and his mouth in places you needed him most, pleasure you like you deserved.

But how could he tell you all this and more? Did he even have the right as an invader to profess his infatuation to you? This Planet 43 Z-7, this Earth, was filled to the brim with interesting things, yet you remained at the very top of Jungkook’s list. He couldn’t leave, not now, but he couldn’t stay either. His entire presence in itself was a ploy to spread his seed, a fact you continued to be unaware of.

Namjoon’s words bounce around his brain, twist and wrap around him until he’s shakily reaching for his mug. He couldn’t stay here any longer under this false pretense. He couldn’t lie to you another day, another second more. He was tired of being a sheep. It’s with this conflicting resolve that he commands himself to confess this to you at once.

So he spills it all out to you.

From the complex history of the Sixamians to his assignment of this mission. You listen quietly as you munch through breakfast, nodding along to each new point he brings up that changes the story. He tells you about the population mission, about how he was sent here to spread his superior genes over the land, but how he’s let that sit on the back burner while you taught him all sorts of new things. If you are unimpressed with Jungkook and Sixam, you don’t show it.

“So you came to... breed?” you ask when he has finished, hands neatly folded on your lap. Breakfast is finished, plate scraped clean.

Jungkook nods shamefully. “I was asked to contribute to the reconstruction of Planet 43 Z-7,” he says, repeating the practiced reasoning every Sixamian has heard at least once in their life. But in front of you, it makes him cringe.

The grandfather clock in the hallway clicks along quietly, the soundtrack to Jungkook’s desperate read of you. Your eyes are focused on the plate before you, lost in thought at the abundance of information he has just thrown on you. He could easily switch his influential abilities back on, brighten your mood like he has been taught to do with countless other species since the beginning of time. But it feels wrong to subject you to that, to strip you of your emotions, even if it would save him the discomfort.

Instead he sits in silence.

Jungkook waits patiently, even though every fiber in his being is telling him to get up and make a run for it. Escape before he can see a look of disgust aimed his way. But he has come to value your opinions as equal to his, and the thought of leaving you by yourself does not sit well with him. So he waits.

It takes a few minutes of contemplation before you grace him with an answer, nervously rubbing your hands over your thighs. “I understand, Jungkook,” you exhale tightly. “But I don’t think I’m the partner you are looking for.”

“No! I was not— It was not my intention,” he stammers, waving his hands all over the place in his hurry to explain. He sucks in a sharp breath. “I do not wish to force such a burden on you, __,” he manages, “I would not do that to you.”

He is about to pat himself on the back for his save, when suddenly the corners of your lips take a sharp drop. “Oh, I see,” you mutter, arms self consciously wrapping around your frame. “So you don’t see me as a suitable partner?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your drawn conclusion. “No,” he chokes, and your frown deepens. “I mean, yes, I do see you as a viable partner to engage in reproductive activities,” and now he’s spiraling, the surprised look on your face only fueling his pea-brained ramblings, “I just—I assumed you did not enjoy that?

His excuse sounds so unbelievably weak even to his own ears.

“What made you think that?” you ask. At the rate this conversation is going, Jungkook fears his brain will soon fry itself out.

His mind is a spinning mess, like the inside of a vacuum that rumbles and turns with each new thought that enters. What was he supposed to say? That he’s heard you in your most intimate moments, moments where you hid from him? Or that he’s done countless scans on your body when you weren’t looking and came to the same result every time; that result being that you have never been touched by another before? And what was he supposed to draw from these conclusions if not that you abhorred such intimacy?

“I-I heard… you,” Jungkook admits quietly. “And, I felt your emotions. They were nervous.” He does not need his thermal detector to feel the heat that floods your face. “I did not want to impose on such a fragile moment,” he continues. “And I apologize if my actions have made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” you wave off, pressing the back of your knuckles to your cheeks. “I apologize for doing something so inappropriate with you in my house.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Do you not enjoy participating in sexual activities, __?” he asks curiously.

You gulp loudly, obviously startled by his question. Which part of it, Jungkook doesn’t know. He nudges your knee with his, urging you to answer. A shaky exhale, and then you’re rambling. “I-No, I do,” you rush out, avidly avoiding his gaze. “I, um, I just have never, uh, been with anyone.”

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Is that why your reproductive areas are strangely well preserved for a being your age? I was beginning to wonder about the complexities of Human reproduction after meeting you, __. Is there a certain tradition one must follow to copulate with you?”

“No, no,” you rush to correct. Jungkook has obviously said something that upset you, because when you speak again your aura is tainted with the hints of irritation. “Tradition is stupid,” you explain slowly, a sense of heartache consuming him at your rather lonely figure. He is beside you, yet feels a thousand light years away from your heart. “I was just a fool.”

His gaze softens, carefully placing a hand on your knee comfortingly. He doesn’t have to say anything more, just let you know he isn’t far at all, and you understand. You lean against his shoulder, the same sad look in your eyes. The grandfather clock ticks on in the hallway, in sync with the slow rhythm of your heart. Jungkook places a kiss to the crown of your head.

The day drags on.

Your morning chores are finished quickly with Jungkook at your side. He obsesses over the plants and plays with Smilodon. You make apple juice today with the fruits that fall from the tree out front. Jungkook enjoys it, but not as much as lemonade. Still, it gets its own entry in his log.

He asks more questions about your world, straying away from the ones he had last week that seemed to exclusively revolve around the fauna and flora. Now, he is interested in your Human way of life. The TV confuses him, and he doesn’t quite understand the difference between dramas and news stations. So you explain as best you can for him.

His main issue lies in his inability to comprehend the constant strife within your planet, especially when you explain to him topics like poverty or homelessness. Sixam is nothing like Earth, he says, because everyone on Sixam is looked after and taken care of as deemed appropriate. There is no division of classes because deep down, every Sixamian acknowledges they are superior to the rest of the universe. It sounds like a utopia to you, but you’ve read enough books to know how those usually turn out.

That fact intrigues Jungkook as well. How Humans can be aware of so many altering concepts and beliefs, yet desensitized to all. He doesn’t get it, and explaining the concept of fiction existing on a separate plane only confuses him more.

Eventually you bring it back to tradition, somehow, that dreaded word you’ve come to abhor. Jungkook enjoys learning about your culture and your way of life, little things you do here and there. But as most things do in your life, the conversation circles back around to your failed marriage.

“Ah,” Jungkook says. “So it is tradition to save your first reproductive act for the one you ‘marry’?” You nod, toes tucked up into the couch. It’s a little before sunset now, the orange hue of the outdoors leaking into your living room. “And then you take their last name? That is very confusing, __. I thought this last name identified you to your fellow Human, how can you so easily change it around?”

You laugh. “It's complicated,” you offer. Jungkook chuckles as well, obviously overwhelmed with all the new information you provided him with today.

Jungkook nods pensively but you doubt he understands. “I see,” he mumbles, fingertip tapping against the armrest he’s leaning against. It’s a tell tale sign that he desperately wants to document what you’ve said in his supercomputer bracelet but is holding back for the sake of this moment. You think it’s rather sweet. “So copulation does not always secure you a partner.”

You shrug halfheartedly. “People have different drives,” you say. “Some of them want love and some just want sex.”

“And you?” he asks suddenly, big purple eyes swirling with entire galaxies. “What would you like?”

A lot of things, you think, but when it comes down to it, when Jungkook asks you with his pretty eyes and pouty lips, you can’t find the right words. “Both,” is your measly reply. “What about you?”

He seems just as thrown off by your question as you, eyes widening as he leans back. The living room is bathed in warm splashes of color, the last of the sun’s rays painting Jungkook in a rather romantic light. You can’t look away. “I too would like both,” he admits, idly tracing the tip of his finger along the markings that decorate the tops of his knees. “This notion of attraction beyond the physical realm is not common in Sixam,” he answers. “Sixam is very… strict about what a relationship entails.

You set your mug down on the side table, shuffling around until your toes poke his hip, arm thrown over the back of the couch. “How so?” you ask.

Jungkook’s lips push out into a frown. “The Higher Sixamian Court has long since ruled that mating rituals between citizens are strictly limited to those that will produce the most immaculate genome,” he says, as if that is just another simple, everyday fact of life. It is for him, but not for you.

“So, are you like… assigned?” you press, suddenly wondering how a being as curious and sentimental as Jungkook has survived so long in a place like Sixam. “And like, do you raise kids together?”

“Until the end of their first era,” Jungkook supplies, as if that makes the slightest bit of sense. “And sort of. Sixam is not that oppressive,” he jokes, but there is something about his eyes missing their usual glow that tips you off. “I have yet to copulate for reproductive purposes.”

You pause. “But you have for… fun purposes?”

Jungkook looks at you seriously. And then, ever so slowly, the little marks beneath the corners of his eyes, the little triangles that usually flare blue, fade into a lovely pink shade. “I-“ he stammers, obviously flustered by your question. “I have.”

Your mouth parts into a little o. “With other Sixamians? Or….” Jungkook flushes, nods meekly. His expression seems off, like it isn’t a particular fond memory he carries. “Was it bad or something?”

He sighs. “It is… very lacking. Nothing like the scenes depicted in your projection box.” He nods towards the TV, you barely contain a giggle at its name. You reach for your mug instead. “There is no,” he waves a hand in front of his face. The last rays of sun catch on his hand and turn his charcoal markings a pretty gold. “No expressions of adoration beyond what is necessary. And I do not particularly enjoy that.”

You nod understandingly. “You're soft,” you tease, watch his little triangles light up again at your words. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “so am I.”

He says nothing, just stares blankly out the front window as the sun disappears behind the horizons, leaving thousands of glittering lights in its wake. Not man made but natural; right. “I think your last name is lovely,” he suddenly announces. You chuckle against the lip of your mug, but Jungkook doesn’t find it amusing. He turns to you with that sparkling purple gaze, like you’ve hung those stars outside yourself. “There is no other __ ___ like you.”

Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from the coffee steam rising from the mug or Jungkook’s unexpected reassurance. It makes your heart tender, sends a shock through your system that leaves your body buzzing. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, covering the palm he rests over the couch with yours.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to.

Ovulation ends, but your blossoming feelings for Jungkook do not go away.

The next morning his comms remain shut off. Jungkook has never had his communications back home cut off, save for the time in his first era where he brashly spoke out against his superior in a lab. He was young and had much to learn, took too many risks and didn’t consider the consequences. He guesses he hasn’t grown much since then as he watches you tend to your garden.

“Smilodon urinated in the closet,” he announces, witnessing the smile slowly slip off your features. He lets you revel in your annoyance for exactly two seconds before following with the phrase he heard on your box the other day. “Just kidding! You are being prank’d.

Your frown is nothing like the expression the program’s contests exhibited following their supposed pranking. “Jungkook, that’s not funny,” you huff and his heart sinks. A soft snort. “Okay, maybe a little,” you concede with a terribly contained smile.

He bounds over, kneels down beside you, and begins pulling the overgrown weeds out with you. “I saw it on the projection box the other day,” he explains excitedly, tossing the weeds into the bag between you two. “I did not know such pleasure could be received from silly broadcasts like that.” You nod, say something about all kinds of dumb shows existing before a pout taints your lips. “What's wrong?”

A long sigh from you. “I think the sun isn’t reaching these,” you tell him, lifting the stem of a sad looking tomato plant. It’s the closest one to the house, often covered by the house’s shadow when the sun shines best. “They’re sad.”

He tilts his head to the side quizzically. “Sad?” he repeats, reaching for his wristband before he can stop to think. If his extensive journaling reads right, your planet’s vegetation follows similar patterns to that of another’s, requiring allotted amounts of sunlight and water to flourish. “How can it be sad?”

Caught up in his notes, he doesn’t realize you’ve migrated to the other side of the garden now, dutifully picking out more weeds. “Well, it looks sad doesn’t it?” Jungkook glances back again. The tomato stalk is significantly droopy and malformed, smaller than its brethren who sit only a few inches away in direct sunlight. It’s colors are dulled and almost… sad. Huh. How peculiar.

He chances one glance back at you, deems you far enough, and then channels the entirety of his energy towards the tomato plant. It wiggles a few times, kind of like it’s dancing, before you’re calling his name from the other side. “What’re you doing?” you ask, hand on your hip. Jungkook stills.

“Um,” he drawls. The plant returns to its sulky state.

Garbage bag full of weeds, you pass by him with a shake of your head. “Don’t do anything weird to my plants, silly,” you chide. Jungkook huffs, follows behind to take the bag off your hands. You thank him, join him for his walk around the house until he tosses the bag into the garbage can out front. Before he can retort and engage you in a playful argument regarding his superior abilities, you’re crouching down by the spigot out front. It’s making a weird hissing noise that has Jungkook frowning as he walks over.

Right as he approaches, you make the amateur mistake of turning the handle, water spewing out from the gap between the spigot’s mouth and where it’s supposed to meet the hose. You screech, and Jungkook can’t shut it off fast enough.

In the end, both of you are drenched.

“Ugh,” you groan as you walk around the house to the unlocked back door. Jungkook trudges behind, just a teensy bit annoyed by the mud that quickly stains his rubber sandals. “This is so annoying!” you complain loudly, shaking yourself off like Smilodon when it accidentally fell into the sink the other day. “Ruined my day.”

At that Jungkook frowns. He does not want your day to be ruined, especially not by some faulty spigot outside. You were too good for such emotions, too perfect in his eyes. Sadness and the like did not suit you; they had no place ruining your beautiful features. You’re huffily patting yourself down at the back porch now, distress prominent on your features as you most likely consider the second load of laundry you will have to do today.

The tomato stalk glances at him sadly from the ground, and before Jungkook can stop himself, he’s breathing in deeply and pushing his generally relaxed attitude onto you. You can be mad later, but right now Jungkook doesn’t want to see you sad. It’s effective immediately, your gloominess quickly fading away. You breathe in deeply, eyes falling shut, and when you open them again you’re offering him the most gentle smile he has ever seen.

And a soaked through shirt that highlights the shape of your red undergarments. Jungkook’s eyes widen, unconsciously flicking down to the sight you present him with, and a different emotion floods his senses.

It’s quite possibly his biggest mistake. Because while he can easily look away, it takes longer for those emotions to fade, and soon they’re being reflected on you.

“Wow,” you exhale, shaking your head in confusion because these aren’t your emotions— you probably know they’re his. Jungkook feels terrible instantly.

“I’m sorry,” he rushes out, scrambling up the steps to guide you inside. Simultaneously, he’s shutting down his influential abilities, scolding himself for slipping up with you like this. You most certainly did not want to feel this way around Jungkook, yet here he was quite literally projecting onto you. “Please, let’s go inside.”

You nod, jolt when his hand touches the small of your back as he guides you in. “Oh,” you gasp, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to force himself from making the situation worse, from thinking thoughts you would not approve of. “Why— what's happening?” you ask in a breathy tone, lingering by the staircase Jungkook tries to push you up.

He sighs. “I— I was trying to brighten your mood,” he admits, metaphorical ears pressed against his head like when Smilodon gets scolded for knocking down a plant. “And, um. There was— the, um, sight of your undergarments distracted me for a moment.” You glance down and seemingly become aware for the first time that your bright red bra is on display, shyly covering yourself with your arms.

“Distracted?” you mumble softly, leaning against the banister of the stairs. Your skin is radiating more heat than Jungkook ever recalls, face demurely turned down towards the floor. He could have sworn he stopped projecting minutes again— why were you still behaving like this? Did he break you? Did he exude more energy than he meant to, accidentally extend the length of the emotions? “I’ll go upstairs now,” you announce quietly, touch his arm almost sensually as you pass by.

Your skin is warm, that heavenly scent that Jungkook craved rolling off in waves— but he was certain he’d stopped himself before anything became too overwhelming. Were his emotions stronger than he had fooled himself into believing? There was no way he had felt or looked as riled up when he accidentally influenced you. So where exactly were these emotions coming from? What exactly was making you behave this way even after he’d withdrawn his influence? Could it be...

Jungkook watches with wide eyes, almost certain that your behavior, though sparked by his initial slip up, was entirely your own at this point.

There was a lot of weight behind that.

The water turns on upstairs, and he has to strain his ears, still his breathing, just for a hint of your sounds. But they’re there, quiet successors to the louder moans you’d let out the other day. They make him shiver, melt against the staircase as his cock twitches in his pants. His body comes alive, something distinctly carnal twitching beneath his skin, blossoming out at the base of his spine.

And still, as he grinds his hand into his palm, it is not merely the sight of your red undergarments that render Jungkook useless. No, the ghost of your smile at his poorly executed prank follows, brands itself into the inside of his eyelids as he slowly falls apart.

Was it your own emotions that had made you like that? he wonders, sinking to his knees in the hallway. If you came down right now, you’d certainly catch him. But Jungkook can still hear your muffled cries from upstairs, and furthermore, Jungkook wanted desperately for you to catch him. He knows you won’t, but the idea makes him shiver, has him coming in his bottoms shamefully.

“What the,” he huffs, sweat trailing down his forehead. His brain replays that look in your eyes. That emotion you displayed that, although it may have been planted by him, was taken by you and magnified. Had you been just as excited by the sight of Jungkook’s wet body as he had yours? And if such was the case, was your attraction to him limited to the physical realm?

He doesn’t want to delude himself, but your words from the other day ring loudly in his ears. Soft, you had called him, for wanting something both physically and emotionally intimate. But you were the same, or so you claimed.

Was it so wrong for Jungkook to think that ideology applied now?

That night you join Jungkook outside for his routine stargazing. He sits on the porch while you sit on your rocking chair, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jungkook retells his adventures across the universe.

Space is bigger than you thought, with a culture far more complex than Earth’s. It makes you wonder how Jungkook, who has quite literally seen it all, can become so enamored with this place. There’s bigger and better somewhere out there; planets that won’t force terrible traditions on him or task him into ungodly missions. Yet he lingers here, in this quiet space between your garden and your house, head on your lap.

His hair is soft, almost like silk, and he enjoys having it touched. “I do not wish to leave,” he admits quietly, empty mug long since set aside. You hum, encourage him to elaborate. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7.”

You snort. “No way,” you say, trace your hand down his jawline. Jungkook says nothing of your wandering hands, skin warm to the touch. Some of his markings decorate his neck, curl around the pale skin in perfectly symmetrical swoops. They creep beneath the hem of his shirt, and you wonder what they look like down there.

You flush those thoughts away, that afternoon’s events still fresh in your mind. From your understanding of the events, Jungkook had been excited at the sight of your body, so he obviously had to hold some attraction towards you. But how much of that was purely physical and how much was emotional?

“I want to have your last name,” he announces suddenly. You choke, breath caught in your throat from the randomness of the statement. Your reaction makes Jungkook pull away from your touch, stare at you with wide eyes like you do him.

“I— what?” you stammer, having gained back your composure. Or at least some of it. “Jungkook, I don’t think you know what that means.”

He frowns, shuffles around until he’s facing you, and lays his head across your lap again. This time, those purple eyes that dance with nebulas and stardust zero in on you. His hair tickles your bare thighs, makes you unconsciously press them together when his warm breath fans across your skin. “You amaze me,” he murmurs, eyes glazed. “I have never seen a being like you, who lives so far off from society, thrive in their own bubble— is it too much for me to want to live like you? Be with you?”

“Huh?” you ask, ever so eloquently.

Jungkook smiles, turns his face to hide it against you. Pink lips brush against your skin, your hands unconsciously shooting into his hair to guide him away. When his head rolls back, he’s got this rather melancholy look on his face. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7,” he says again, “and I am looking right at her.”

Your face burns.

Heart hammering in your chest, palms sweaty, you don’t know what to say. He looks at you with that vibrant gaze, drinks you in like you’re the finest of wines and your heart absolutely cannot handle it. Your brain fumbles for a response but by then Jungkook is standing up, head tilted downwards cutely as he observes you. One hand in his, thumb gently swiping over your knuckles. “I would like to show you every expression of adoration possible, __,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing back inside.

You stay outside, turning his words inside and out, backwards and forwards, until you deduce that Jungkook of Sixam most definitely harbored the same feelings for you as you did for him. It’s odd, because it is exactly what you want but the idea scares you to death. The last time you let a man into your life under a similar guise you ended up wasting years of your life, clinging to this grand finale you never got. And now this foreign being was proclaiming his feelings for you, possibly propositioning you for the same thing.

Did you want Jungkook? Yes, undoubtedly yes. He was free from the shackles of tradition that had held you down so long, didn’t believe in this twisted notion of your body being “sacred.” He was a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone you’ve ever met before (although part of that was due to his alien heritage).

However, he was not free of flaws, and perhaps that is what entices you more.

Jungkook, though he looked and spoke like the perfect man, was a being of his own, with struggles of his own. He too had his own handful of painful memories, toxic ideologies that followed him around. But Jungkook was willing to learn, to change. And you admired him for it.

Tip-toeing back inside, you find the house shrouded in darkness. The steady tick of the grandfather clock lessens the rapid beating of your heart. Jungkook is sitting on the living room couch, legs pulled to his chest. Muscle memory has you reaching out for the top of his head like always, ready to pat his fluffy hair as if you hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes outside doing just that. He turns around just as your fingers touch his soft strands, purple eyes meeting yours. You trace your hand down the side of his face, knuckles brushing over his cheekbones; he puckers his lips, bestows a second tender smooch against you.

“I like when you do that,” he says, voice unexpectedly loud in the otherwise silent house. As he speaks, he shifts to the side, arm thrown over the back of the couch to look at you completely. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip and he gulps. “Makes me crazy.”

You chuckle, releasing him to round the couch. Jungkook’s got this sweet smile on his face, hand outstretched for you. When you take it, he tugs you onto the couch, flush beside him. Your thigh is practically thrown over his, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. You heart flutters and you can no longer look him in the eye.

But that’s okay because Jungkook can. He ducks down, dark hair tickling your skin as his breath ghosts over your lips. “May I?” he asks softly, nose bumping against yours. “May I have the honor of pleasuring you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, answering with a tiny nod that makes his lower lip brush against yours teasingly. “I-If I am suitable,” you mumble, tingles spreading all over your body.

Jungkook smiles, pretty and bright, as he turns his head to slot your mouths together. “No,” he says, “if I am suitable. You are more than enough.” Lips brush against yours, shaky breath meets yours, and then he’s kissing you. Slow yet suave, carefully molding against you as if he is afraid of breaking you. His lips are like two soft pillows, moving against yours in a practiced rhythm that makes you tremble against him. Every bit the measly virgin, but Jungkook likes you just so.

He pulls away with a pop, his figure shadowed by the darkness of the room. But his eyes, purple irises, glow brightly. Like two pools of cosmic dust swirling around his dark pupils. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this before, but you hardly saw Jungkook in the dark anyway. He hides them too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in again.

The second time, there’s a faint flick of his tongue against your bottom lip. The action makes you gasp quietly, lips parting for a fraction of a second. But Jungkook is quick, slips his tongue past your lips. It’s lewd; his breath mingles with yours, tongue pushing against yours. Slick and dirty, spit traveling between your two mouths, but Jungkook makes sure you’re okay, sinfully wrapping his lips around your tongue when you get too brave. A moan escapes you, fingers squeezing around his.

Jungkook squeezes back, pushes forward until you’re pressed against the back cushions of the couch. “This okay?” he husks, low-lidded eyes meeting yours when he pulls away. You nod, words caught in your throat. Jungkook’s gaze lasers in on your mouth, and he seems to have an internal debate before eventually pulling away to kiss your neck.

You tilt your head back, choppy exhales creeping out from between your lips as he kisses down the column of your neck, untangling his hand from yours to press against your hip instead. It’s with a devastatingly slow speed that he eventually slinks away, finds himself kneeling between you on the floor with hands dancing over the tops of your thighs. Your heart is beating a thousand miles in your chest, threatening to rip itself right out when he meets your eyes a second time.

He pushes your legs apart, not once looking away as he gently encourages you to raise one. Lips pressed against your knee, slowly trailing down the skin of your thigh. Your hand squeezes at the couch cushions. Jungkook pulls a startled yelp from you when he tugs at the backs of your knees, makes you slump down the couch with your legs perfectly spread out for him, feet flat on the floor. Then he’s back to kissing you, languidly pressing smooch after smooch against your scorching skin until he’s reaching the apex of your thighs, stilling once to look your way.

“Go ahead,” you choke out, hands clutched over your chest, as if that’ll keep your heart from up and running away. Jungkook takes your admission and moves on, puckered lips meeting your mound through your clothing. It’s the first time you’ve ever had someone else so close to your most sensitive areas, and rightly so, you whimper.

“Shh,” he soothes, thumb pressing against your hip as he carefully hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. You’re quivering like a leaf, lower lip bitten raw between your teeth as you watch him move between your legs. “I don’t wish to hurt you,” Jungkook murmurs.

Another press of his mouth against you, this time right over where your bud hides, and the sensation makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your shorts, take your underwear with them when he begins pulling them down your hips. You push yourself up briefly, let him slide them down your legs and bare yourself to him for the first time.

Your cheeks flood with warmth, hands unconsciously reaching to pull your shirt down, but Jungkook catches you. Fingers tangle with yours, warm breath fanning over your slick folds. Unconsciously, you tense up at his proximity, the stark realization that this was the moment you had waited for for a good chunk of your life suddenly hitting you. Jungkook seems to notice you crawl inside your head, drawing you back with a squeeze around your hand, luminous eyes meeting yours.

“If you need me to stop, I will,” he reassures you.

The blood is rushing to your ears, his words nearly lost in the madness. “Aren’t you scared?” you ask quietly, voice wobbly, holding his hands so tightly you’re surprised he doesn’t complain.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “Would you like to know how I feel?”

Hesitantly, you nod. Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, but the little triangle markings beneath his eyes begin to glow. Like fireflies in the dark, two little lights that intensify as he exhales.

And then, suddenly, you’re flooded with a new wave of emotions, similar to yours but not. They feel like yours, but are distinctly his, make you arch against the cushions with a soft groan.

At the forefront, lust that swarms your senses and makes your body melt into the couch beneath you. It makes you shiver, nipples peaked beneath your top as his feelings and their intensity grow on you. It feels like drowning, like swallowing a thick and sticky substance that lingers in your throat and refuses to go away. It’s how he feels about you at this moment, so strongly it could drown him.

So overwhelmed with that sensation alone, you almost don’t recognize the second emotion that Jungkook takes and pours into you.

Warm and comforting, like being embraced by a thousand doves, kissed by a swarm of butterflies. It’s different from the first, doesn’t tap directly into your physical body, but wraps around your heart, creeps into your thoughts. Until you’re rolling your eyes back open and meeting his, the feeling so plainly spelled out across his features.

Sheer and utter adoration.

“Oh,” you breathe, face scorching to the touch following the emotions Jungkook’s just revealed to you.

He grins, shy, and squeezes your hand. “What do you want to do?”

Biting your lip, you take initiative and hook your knee over his shoulder, the same way he had shown you just moments prior. “Please,” you murmur, “show me more.”

And Jungkook does.

A soft kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose running along your skin teasingly. And then he’s faced with your puffy lips, pink skin slick with arousal. Jungkook sighs softly, tilts his head as if he’s analyzing his next course of action, and then carefully places his mouth against you.

“Mmmh,” you whimper, hips instinctively bucking into the touch, never having felt such intense pleasure before. Jungkook doesn’t mind as he languidly kisses your folds, eyes shut as he loses himself in the motions. The first swipe of his tongue makes you twitch, arms flailing but Jungkook holds them down, entwined fingers pressed against the couch.

His tongue is an entity of its own, wet muscle pressing and licking at your most sensitive areas like it was made specifically for this. Never mind talking, Jungkook’s tongue was made to lap at your pussy like this. He licks a long stripe up from your quivering hole to your engorged clit, curling at the end as if you were nothing more but a sweet for him to mindlessly play with.

Your muscles clench up, the leg thrown around his shoulder unconsciously pulling him closer until his nose is pressed flush against your clit. Jungkook breathes in deeply, moans softly but it sends earth-shattering vibrations up your core until you’re a whimpering mess. “O-Oh,” you cry, sweat clinging to your skin as Jungkook continues lapping at your folds.

He releases one hand, uses it to push your other leg further away to properly slot himself against you. You take the opportunity to wildly reach for him, grabby hands lost in the silky waves on his head as you urge him closer to where you need him most. You’re not even sure where that is anymore, your clit or your entrance, but Jungkook switches between the two just fine.

That warm tongue prods at your entrance, tip sinking inside just enough to make you gasp. It’s a new experience for you, someone’s tongue touching and stroking you there, and it feels like an entirely new door opens from that action alone. You whimper his name, dig your nails across his scalp like maybe he’ll grant you a reprieve and pull away. But you don’t really want that, and so you’re happy when he stays where he is.

The hand that had rested against the juncture of your hip glides up, lays flat over your mound with his thumb idly swirling around your clit. The combination of his tongue breaching your hole and his fingers playing along your clit makes you spasm. “Wait,” you sob, the muscles in your thighs twitching as he licks away. “I-I’m gonna—“

An overpowering wave of relief floods your senses shortly before that last syllable can escape your lips; everything goes tight and then suddenly you’re on a cloud, cum spilling from your heat and onto his waiting tongue. Jungkook licks it all up, slurps loudly against your clit as the last waves of your orgasm run their course. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing up your navel, t-shirt pushed away as he goes.

When he reaches your face, you’re quite embarrassed to find the area around his mouth to be glistening with your juices. “You’re incredible,” he says, easygoing smile on his lips. But there’s something hard and heavy against you, snuggled between your thighs, that makes your face heat up all over again.

You can’t find the words to respond, and lose the opportunity when Jungkook captures your lips with his again. He’s more assertive this time around, roughly pushing against you until you’re certain you’ll bruise. But it feels good, makes you wrap your hands around him as Jungkook grinds down against you. When he pulls away, he’s got this dark look on his face, out of place against such bright eyes.

He says nothing as his hands creep up your waist, push your t-shirt and bra out of the way, until he’s cupping your breasts in his palms. Experienced hands massage them thoroughly, roll the soft skin between his fingers. His mouth is against yours again, tongues pressed together; Jungkook groans and the sound shoots straight between your thighs. He pinches a nipple between his fingers and you whimper, break away from his kiss to hide your face against his shoulder.

His cock is heavy against your folds, the thick material of his pants slowly stimulating you again. The cotton brushes against you, most certainly picks up your wetness as it goes, and Jungkook lets it as he continues to grind down against you with his hands on your tits. Your hands tear their way down his back, fist the material of his shirt in your hands. “Off, off,” you plead, desperate to feel more of him against you.

Jungkook complies, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head. You were right about his markings, dark swoops and circles that decorate his chest and abdomen before tapering down around his waist. Your mouth salivates at the sight, blindly reaching for your own clothes as if one look away will make him disappear.

He doesn’t.

In fact, the removal of both your tops only makes Jungkook hungrier, completely abandoning your lips to suck your breast into his mouth instead. “Jungk— fuck,” you wail, slipping further down the couch as you lose yourself in Jungkook’s embrace. His teeth nibble at your swollen bud, roll the sensitive skin around before pulling off with a wet pop.

Your breath jumps when he reaches behind you, corded arm locking around your waist as he repositions the two of you, unsatisfied with the previous position. He lifts you up with his undoubtedly superior strength, one palm beneath your thigh as he plops you down across the couch more comfortably, head neatly resting on a throw pillow.

Your heart is in your throat, desperate to memorize the man before you, inked skin, lean and meaty, vibrant violet eyes that focus solely on you. Before he can join you on the couch, Jungkook steps away, tucks his thumbs into his waistband and swiftly removes them. His engorged cock, bigger than any you’ve seen in any erotic video— and that was saying a lot —springs up against his navel, flaming tip glaring right at you. Your pussy quivers at the sight.

“Come here,” he husks out as he moves towards you. You welcome him with open arms, a soft groan of his name against his lips as he shoves his tongue past. His hands are everywhere now; one squeezes at your breast, hand molded to the flesh, while the other runs along the underside of your thigh, guides it over his waist. And another tickles around your navel, soft—

You shriek, eyes snapping open as you tug Jungkook over you as a shield. “What was that?” you heave, wide eyes roving over the dark living room, like maybe you’ll find Smilodon traversing the carpet and it was his silky tail that came too close.

But Smilodon doesn’t usually appear at night, nor is there anything else in the living room with you and Jungkook. Your heart hammers in your chest, carefully meeting his dark gaze until something thin and distinctively alive appears over his shoulder. Another scream tears itself from your lips.

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook shushes, pulls away to cup your face in his hands. “Forgive me,” he says tenderly, “we are so similar, I forget you do not possess extra arms.”

You pale. “E-Extra arms?” you choke, eyes focused on the thin ‘arm’ that slinks out from behind Jungkook, almost screeching again when a second one appears on the opposite side. And then a third, a fourth.

It is no arm, but rather… a tentacle? Sans the weird suction cups. They’re thin little things, no thicker than his wrist, that dance behind him as if they have a mind of their own. They move as if suspended in water, soft lilac skin tenderly touching yours. You shiver, its smooth skin odd against your supple flesh. Jungkook relaxes, but draws them back anyway. “Forgive me,” he says again, taking your hand in his to press a peck against it. Your heart flutters at the gesture that was slowly driving you insane. “I shall keep them at bay.”

You nod shakily, but cannot deny the curiosity that picks at you when they slink back into the base of his spine, blend seamlessly against his skin. “What… what do they do?” you ask tentatively.

Jungkook hums as he descends upon you, featherlight kisses against your shoulder and up your neck. “Hmm? They help me out,” he explains mindlessly, pulling you flush against his cock again. A moan tears itself from your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you force yourself to focus on the moment again.

But your hands unconsciously wander down his spine as he kisses you, circle the skin where your swear they had to have disappeared beneath, until Jungkook is pulling away with a confused expression on his face. “Would you like to see them again?” he asks quizzically, sweat forming along his hairline.

You cannot play it off any longer; meekly, you nod. “I— they were interesting,” you admit in a quiet voice, nervously twiddling your fingers over your chest.

Jungkook says nothing for a second, until he’s lightly chuckling and pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Okay,” he concedes, and goes back to rolling his hips against yours.

About to protest, the words are robbed from your throat when something soft and blunt tickles your thigh. “Oh,” you shudder, prevailing through the initial shock as Jungkook’s ‘arm’ slides around the diameter of your thigh to brush against your cunt. It’s silky and smooth, pushes against your lips until it’s emerging past them, slipping inside of you.

You gasp, head lolling backwards as the sensation gets to you. It feels the same as your fingers do when you’re in the shower, but it moves differently, gauging your reactions as it curls within your walls. Jungkook muffles a low chuckle against your chin, kisses spread over you until his tongue is back down your throat.

“Feels good?” he asks, hot mouth against yours. You nod jerkily, hands digging into his biceps. Another appendage tickles around your waist, dips into your navel and makes you giggle. It’s a sound that’s frankly out of place amongst your moans and whimpers, but it makes Jungkook smile. It eventually moves away, continuing its soft caresses elsewhere.

The one that plays in your pussy has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, jaw slack. Perfect for Jungkook who pushes and prods until his saliva is dripping down your throat, catching in the corners of your lips. It impossibly fattens inside of you, makes you choke just as a different one dances around your neck. “I— I,” you stutter, boneless beneath him as the soft tip traces around the column of your neck tenderly, lovingly.

There’s so many different areas to focus on: one rubs comfortingly beneath your breast, while another fucks into your cunt. The contrast has your head spinning, unsure of where to look.

There’s something about the one inside of you that makes you feel so sticky and wet, more so than before. Like it’s oozing something out, making the glide against your walls smoother than before. It makes your body tingle, sends a feeling down your spine that you’re almost certain isn’t normal.

At the same time, there’s a brush along your thigh again, a tight coil around the flesh of your skin tightly that encourages your legs apart. More room for Jungkook to squeeze in. It wraps around you, slithers past its sibling and prods against your ass. Your heart skips a beat, buck into Jungkook’s embrace as it slips between your cheeks— you gasp. It releases that same substance that makes everything so wet. You tremble at the touch, body already so overwhelmed.

Your attention is snatched away before anything can happen, Jungkook tugging you closer until the ridges of his cock are running along your folds, each push sending his goddamn tentacle deeper inside of you. You moan, hands shakily traversing his skin until you’re cupping his face in your palms. “More,” you hoarsely whisper, dazed eyes meeting his. “Please.”

Jungkook nods, presses one more kiss against your lips before shuffling around. The appendage inside of you swiftly recoils, has you shivering from the way it slips out of you so easily. As it finally emerges from your folds, you find it’s slick with cum and something slightly pink, sparkly and wet as if it’s got precum of its own. The sight amazes you, makes you want to touch it. Before you can, it’s moving again. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t go away, doesn’t return to hide within Jungkook’s body, but wraps around his cock tightly. Purple tendril against engorged skin, makes him sigh at the squeeze.

He holds the base of his cock, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he regards you with an unrecognizable look. One hand on your thigh, fingers gripping tightly even before he’s done anything. “Tell me you want this,” he exhales, “please?”

You nod hurriedly, hands reaching for his hips to urge him closer. “Want this,” you assure him, quiver when the head of his cock presses against your folds. Bigger than your fingers, bigger than that damned appendage, and it was going inside of you. “Want this so bad,” you whimper, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. A squeeze around your breasts, a flick against your nipples. It’s not Jungkook’s hands, and that fact makes you shiver.

They curl around your breasts, frame the mounds gently before the flatted tips meet your nipples, tease them with featherlight nudge.

Eased by the certainty of your words, Jungkook relaxes. He places a hand on your hip, the other still holding his cock as he lines himself up with your throbbing entrance. You’re so wet, dripping in your own cum and whatever that tentacle released, thighs slippery and shiny. The anticipation in your chest swells, pushes against your rib cage until you’re afraid it’ll break. The little markings beneath his eyes flash and suddenly it’s gone, replaced with a sense of comfort that only doubles when he flashes you a tiny smile.

The first press of his cock makes your back arch, has you knocking every throw pillow off the couch as he slowly eases his way in. “Oh god—“ you sob, the sudden intrusion being questioned by every muscle in your body. Immediately, two of his tentacles snap forward, release their soft grip on your neck and their wrap around your breasts to caress up your sides, smooth ends practically kissing your skin with their soft nudges.

They by no means lessen the pain, but their butterfly touches are a nice distraction that tickles your skin, makes you whimper softly as Jungkook slowly sinks into you.

Jungkook ducks over you, tip of his nose against yours. “Breathe for me,” he instructs, even though his breath is labored against yours. One appendage cups your cheek, curls softly around your ear to hold your head still— you feel so spoiled with all the attention. You make an effort, breathe in swiftly through your nose as Jungkook pushes in deeper.

Slowly, the discomfort fades away. It melts and in its wake you’re left with a dull numbing sensation that starts in your toes and magnifies as it reaches your ears. It grows until the weight of his cock inside of you has you drooling, eyes unfocused as you watch Jungkook push himself to the hilt, the ridges of the tentacle wrapped around his cock making you jolt with every push.

At the same time as his cock thrusts inside of you, a sneaky little thing continues it’s dance between your cheeks, pokes and kisses at your hole like it’s testing you. It is, really, because you've never had anything up your ass before— up until a few moments ago, you had barely had anything in your pussy.

This was your first time, yet two seperate holes were begging to be filled, clenching tightly at Jungkook kisses along your chest, hands wound beneath the small of your back. The playful tentacle near your behind does just that— plays until you gently reach back for it, trembling hands giving it the go ahead it needs to finally plunge itself within you. Like an excited little being, it flutters against your hand a soft, kiss-like press against your palm before returning to its favored spot.

It chooses the perfect moment to press in, takes advantage of Jungkook’s first few slow thrusts to slip its way inside. A loud moan tears itself from your throat, and Jungkook joins along. “I-I’m sorry,” he pants, mouth against yours. “I-I just want to feel you.”

You shake him off, body twitching from the utter fullness you felt, the weight in between your folds and your ass that moves in opposing strokes. His cock, wrapped in those bulging ridges, pushes in just as the tentacle in your rear pulls out, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper and sob.

It feels good, amazing even, and you almost can’t believe it’s happening. Jungkook’s lips slot against yours, slow and lazy as he lets your body grow familiar with the stretch. He kisses you until the cat-like grip you have on his shoulders weakens, replaced with wandering hands that trail down his spine. The base of his spine where his protrusions appear is unique, makes him buck against you when you wrap your hands around one appendage.

“S-Sensitive,” he says as an apology, never mind the fact you want him desperately to fuck into you like that again. You voice such thoughts and Jungkook groans against your skin. “Really?” He chokes out, “I can move?”

One nod and then he’s off, for real this time.

He’s slow at first, like he’s hesitant about hurting you, but you tuck one leg around him, pull him closer until he’s forced deeper inside of you, and from there everything is a downward spiral. You forget Jungkook of Sixam is superior for more than just one reason, harsh reminder given in the strong snap of his hips that would have otherwise sent you flying off the couch if that same strength wasn’t channeled into the arms he held you with.

You reach for his hair, desperate to feel that comforting silk between your fingers, but then there’s something wrapping around your wrists. It pins your hands down, twists around your wrists twice before snaking up and curling along your fingers. Like it wants to hold your hand, wants to fill the spaces for Jungkook. The thought makes you burn, insides a boiling mess as he fucks into you, hands held down above your head.

“Jungkook,” you sob, squirming in his hold. It’s like whenever you move, there’s something there, holding you down or fucking you senseless. He responds with a grunt, roughly thrusting into you over and over until all you can manage is a series of hiccups.

The ridges around his cock, the added thickness lended to him by his extra appendage, has every shove past your lips sending tingles like an ascending xylophone shooting throughout your body. The rhythmic stretches make you huff like a dog against him, brain fuzzy and overwhelmed.

At the same time as he delivers killer grind after grind, another arm, the one that had been left out of the fray, slithers around your chest, looping twice around your frame and caging your breasts between them. Like bondage, except it’s Jungkook’s own body holding you down.

You don’t think about the absurdity of it too much, couldn’t anyway. Your brain is a scrambled mess of Jungkook’s lips and incandescent eyes, lost in the purple galaxies and stars he holds, slowly slipping away from reality with each brutal thrust he gives. His name tumbles from your lips, and yours from his. He holds you like you’ll slip away, sweaty skin pulling you impossibly closer with each roll of his hips.

The thick appendage buried within your ass makes you squirm. It’s a tight fit, one you don’t get too stuck on because for every reprieve from its maniac thrusts you are met with the equally ferocious slam of Jungkook’s cock. So it stays in the back of your mind, this curling tentacle that stretches the tight rim of your ass apart.

You were stuffed to the brim, eyes rolling back as you struggled to keep up. A soft brush along your jawline makes you gasp, before your mouth is tentatively filled with something soft and pulsing. Oh, you would die, you think, mindlessly sucking around the tentacle squeezed between your lips. It fattens in your mouth, pushes roughly against your tongue in rhythm with Jungkook’s cock. You cough, gag even, but it doesn’t move away. It drips a thick substance down your throat, disgustingly sweet.

“Please, please,” he pants, quiet and lost among your own higher-pitched moans. Your leg hikes itself further up, accidentally brushes at the base of where two of his tentacles protrude, and Jungkook jolts against you. His cock presses so deep into your walls, you swear you feel him kiss your cervix. “__,” he pants, tongue lapping at the skin of your neck, picking up the sweat and replacing it with his thick saliva. “Be mine, please.”

Your heart pounds with the beat of a marching band's pace, loud thundering that competes against the slapping of Jungkook’s skin against yours. You whimper around the weight in your mouth, the idea he places in your head only fueling that lifelong dream of yours. Your grip around the appendages that hold your wrists down tightens, its faint heartbeat-like pulse felt between your fingers.

“Let me be yours,” Jungkook moans, pulls out once only to slam his cock past your folds, hold himself there as your brain scrambles to rewire itself. As he says this, your mouth is freed, saliva and that sticky wet substance sloppily splattering across your lips and chin at the rather harsh exit. “And you will be mine.”

“Yes, yes!” you choke, dribbling drool down your chin.

It ends too soon.

Jungkook reaches a hand down, thumb feeling for your clit, but he’s pressed so tightly against you, it takes a second before the rough pad makes contact. That simple swipe, one half circle, is enough to make you unravel. “J-Jungkook,” you wail, biting down against his shoulder, “I’m—“

Your orgasm swallows you whole, his tentacle in your ass joining alongside you. It bursts inside of you, makes your ass leak with cum when it finally pulls out.

“I’ve got you,” he shudders, stills when your pussy clenches down around him, creamy pleasure dripping down around his cock. Your cries fill the air, body falling slack against the couch as you struggle to recover. Your head is a foggy mess, clouded by the slow snap of Jungkook’s hips as he reaches his arousal. Each push against your folds feels even more intense now, overstimulated walls fluttering wildly around him as his cock slips in.

His body stiffens and he swiftly pulls out, every ridge of his cock sucked back by your pussy, and when he finally frees himself— from your clenching walls and his tightly-gripping tentacle—he spills over your abdomen. Sticky and pink, like the strawberry lube you keep in your drawer, except its come out of Jungkook as a result of your rump in the sheets.

As quickly as his body locked up, it slumps just as fast, heavy muscles and long limbs crashing down over you before you can react.

“Jungkook—“

The sun shines in through the front window, wakes him from his slumber slowly and then all at once. He accidentally shifts into a patch of sunshine, the blinding light irritating his eyes until Jungkook is forced awake. His body aches but has never felt better, a weird sense of relaxation flooding his senses. For a moment, he is confused.

Eyes scan over the room, purple irises carefully calculating every bit of information until he catches sight of Smilodon’s furry tail and the memories of last night come swarming back in. He sits up quickly, whirling around for any glimpse of you, only to find you’re nowhere in sigh—

“Morning.” A small hand atop of his head, fingers stroking against his scalp. Instantly, Jungkook melts into the touch.

You walk past him and into the kitchen, where you get to work making the usual breakfast for you and Jungkook. He watches you from the couch, naked beneath the blanket you’ve so graciously covered him with. The sun leaks into the kitchen, paints you in soft shades of orange as you amble around the area.

The scent of hot cocoa fills the air, calling him to the space behind you after he dresses. “Good morning,” he says shyly, presses a kiss against your shoulder. Hesitantly, he lets his hands slide around your waist, lock over your navel. You don’t push him away, simply pat the side of his head as Jungkook snuggles into you.

You don’t speak about last night and neither does he. You eat eggs for breakfast and Jungkook playfully knocks his foot against yours beneath the table. “Don’t play footsies with me,” you laugh. Jungkook quite likes footsies.

Morning chores are skipped, pushed off in favor of sitting in front of the couch. You sit beside him, flush against his side, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. The projection box tells him about the weather, says something about a stock market, but other than that, it is relatively quiet.

There is no mission to complete, no tradition to uphold. It is just Jungkook in this new and not as scary world. The mailman always visits, and Smilodon shows his face every now and then. It is a routine he adores, but not as much as the Human at his side.

He doesn’t remember taking his headpiece off until it beeps from its spot on the coffee table, three distinctive chirps that signal an incoming call from the Higher Sixamian Court.

#goldenclosetnet #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook x reader #alternative ending by rumu omits the last paragraph and we all pretend to live happily #but im evil so we suffer together #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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lattechans · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: any romantic relationships between an elf and a human have dire consequences but you're still willing to try

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: elf!hyunjin x female reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff and a hint of angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: praising, piv, marking, nipple play (all in all pretty vanilla love making)

𝐚/𝐧: this is for the collab project created by @binniesthighs and wow i don't think i've ever written anything like this before but i'm quite proud of it! maybe i'll write fantasy more often from now on...

₁₈₊

you were taking notice of the scenery around you; the outline of the kingdom hazy from such a great distance. this place has become like your second home after many years of traveling. as a child, you were always a wanderer, so it surprised no one when you, as an adult, decided to go off and search for the ancient elven realms that only a few humans knew about.

the first time you met an elf was entirely by coincidence, and was the main reason you chose to look for more. hyunjin was his name, and he was the most ethereal being you had ever laid your eyes upon although you found all elves to be eerily beautiful creatures – hyunjin was different.

he had shoulder length dark brown hair, his eyes warm like caramel compared to those of his parents or the other elves, who looked more cold.

only one person truly knew about you and hyunjin, and she was the reason you were able to meet like this without constant concern for others finding out the true colors of your relationship. the two of you could only go so long sneaking around the kingdom, hiding together in the halls or stealing kisses in the library when someone could see you at any moment.

hyunjin knew that if the two of you were caught together like this, you’d be banished from the kingdom without hesitation and he would never be able to see you again.

you see, the elves had no problems with human visitors, nor even friendships. in fact, the royal family was once known for welcoming humans into their family; the queen had married a human decades before you or hyunjin were even born.

however, the times changed as the queen was betrayed by her husband, who stole one of the most treasured relics in the kingdom and killed many of the creatures who lived in the kingdom as he had fled. ever since then, no romantic relationships were allowed between elves and humans as they were believed to only bring wickedness and evil to the kingdom.

it goes without saying that ever since then, elves and humans alike had been punished for such relationships and although, for the humans the consequences were only banishment and shame, for the elves – the consequences were much worse. a true heartbreak would eventually kill an elf. this is why you needed a secluded place just for the two of you, safe from suspicious eyes.

a few months ago, you had approached the lady you had to thank for all this even being possible, aelvavorna, or aelva for short. she was one of the greatest wizards known in all of the realms, her powers stretched even to the human realm. however, even with such great power she preferred to help those in need and keep a low profile, right here in this kingdom.

the surprise wasn’t that you fell for hyunjin. practically anyone from the human realm would be mad not to pine after both his handsome features and his kind, generous demeanour. the surprise, in your mind, was that he somehow fell in love with you.

and aelva understood your relationship as soon as she met the two of you. in fact, aelva was glad to help the two of you; finding the rules of the elven kingdom when it came to elf-human love.

you vividly remember how she grabbed a heavy book and a small metal box from a table and placed them on the great stone table in the middle of the dimly lit room. “i have an enchantment that can create a safe refuge for you and your love.”

she explained the workings of the enchantment to the two of you and opened the metal box, revealing an odd assortment of rings and jewels, most of them old and tattered, and collected from where you'd never know. from the box, she selected a pendant with a dark blue, rectangular stone on a silver chain. she held it aloft for the both of you to see.

“whoever wears the pendant will be the one who can open the door, and who determines what lies inside,” she explained in a whisper.

“who will be the one to keep it?”

hyunjin took your hands in his without hesitation.

“will you?”

“yes.”

aelva fastened the pendant around your neck before pulling out the book of spells and handing it to hyunjin to hold open. she touched delicate fingertips to the pendant that hung against your collarbone, her other hand coming to rest on the book hyunjin held.

with the little light filtering in through the windows from the sliver of moon hanging high in the sky, aelva began to chant in a tongue you’d never heard before, reciting the spell she read from the page. you felt a quick surge of heat that made you gasp, and in moments, it was over.

she studied you carefully, a smile on her lips before giving her final instructions.

“the one who wears the pendant needs only think of what they’d like to find behind the door—a room, a country, anywhere—and when they turn the handle, that is the place they will find inside. only the wearer of the pendant and those that take her hand may enter; all others will not be able to find the door hidden in plain sight. but bear in mind, the pendant creates only illusion. nothing you find beyond this door is real, except for the two of you. but you will be safe here.”

you remember squeezing aelva’s hand, a tear rolling down your cheek. “thank you.”

“anything for true love.”

just before you left, hyunjin leaned down to kiss your lips with a promise. “i’ll meet you there tomorrow night.”

and so he did, not only the next night, but many, many more nights to come.

and now, in the shadow of an ancient tree, the last traces of sunlight were finally falling below the horizon, you watched as the streams of light glimmered across the fields, shining lights of green and yellow trailing behind them.

the tiny creatures living together in the elven kingdom illuminated the landscape as you leaned back against your lover’s chest, letting your head fall back onto his broad shoulder as you looked up toward the sky. his hand, warm and trembling, brushed down the side of your neck and shoulder, pushing the sleeve of your dress away so that he could kiss the bare skin underneath.

you sat between his legs, the smooth material of his dress shirt soft against your back, and you sighed as one of the fluttering lights bounced off a flower just a short distance away. you reached back, placing a delicate hand over hyunjin’s on your shoulder, and sighed. “i wish this could last forever.”

you felt his exhale against your ear. “so do i, my love,” he whispered before pulling your hand up to his lips for a chaste kiss. but alas, your time was running short. you both needed to return home, and if you weren’t back soon, you’d surely be missed.

hyunjin’s fingertips grazed the tiny flower buds he had carefully woven into your hair, placed just so to adorn you. but as the minutes dragged on, though all you wanted was to stay cradled in his arms, you knew it was time to leave the meadow and head for home.

hyunjin helped you to your feet and took up the bag you had brought with you, filled with delicious pastries and fruit, all the while, holding your hand tightly in his. as you walked through the meadow that was located on a far away hill, the glow of the grass and setting sun faded away behind you. it was only a short walk before you came to the door which was only known to you and hyunjin.

as if it had sprouted from the ground, the great door, seemingly wood and iron with an appointed arch over the top, stood in the downhill. as you stepped to the other side, you entered the same meadow that was connected to the kingdom, however, the huge door disappeared behind you.

a simple spell that hid you and hyunjin’s romance from the peering eyes of anyone else. you reached for the small pendant hanging on a chain around your neck and tucked it safely under the collar of your dress.

before parting, hyunjin wrapped his arm around you, his hand resting at the base of your spine, pulling you close for a languid kiss, slow and silent, neither of you wanting to let go. the danger of the kiss making both of you feel lightheaded. a breath passed as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours for only a moment, knuckles brushing your cheek. you exchanged no words, but you felt it, his love and passion that you returned tenfold under the cover of the kingdom now wrapped in the night .

you dared to stay long enough on the quiet alley to watch him disappear around the corner before hurrying the opposite way yourself. your heart full but aching.

more months passed this way, your rendezvous with hyunjin becoming more and more frequent. with this secret hideaway you shared, it was easier to spend time together, to crave each other’s presence in a place where no one could separate you. each time you met, hyunjin held your hand in his as you pictured the location you chose to visit on the inside. never did hyunjin make a request, even when you asked him to. it was his gift to you, he said.

“where to tonight, my love?” he asked, a dreamy tone in his voice that lit a small fire in some deep fragment of your soul. you wrapped your fingers around the pendant, concealed under your clothes during the day, and sighed.

you knew exactly where you wanted to go tonight. holding the thought in your mind, you reach for the emptiness, only for the door to erect out of thin air, turning the handle, the fantasy materializing in front of your eyes.

you found yourself in an unfamiliar room with a comfortable air about it. the walls and carpets were dark, rich reds and deep green floral patterns warmed the atmosphere before you. heavy wooden furniture was arranged just so, dark mahogany woods twisting in ornate patterns that looked like the roots of trees that had grown out of the floor. candles burned on the dressing table and a mirrored vanity, tossing shadows across the room, leading your eyes to a bed covered in velvety bedsheets.

“but this is—” hyunjin breathed.

“your bedroom. i wanted to see it.”

with the door safely closed behind you, you led hyunjin to his bed – the illusion of his bed – and sat beside him on the plush bedding. he dropped down beside you, running his hands over the designs on the blanket, an exact replica of the one he slept under every night.

everything in the room was exactly as it would be if he returned to his home at this exact moment. though it was almost uncanny to be sitting there, he felt a fluttering in his chest as he gazed upon you, your form against the backdrop of his most private space.

you, on the other hand, could hardly stop from observing the room, curious as to every detail, even if this was only a false vision of the real thing.

it was as close as you might ever come, and you decided to make it count. an urgency washed over you, the intimacy of peering into hyunjin’s bedroom overcoming your senses with a haze of lust. you reached out to his face, suddenly desperate to touch him, to feel his body, to be near him in the most carnal sense of the word.

you breathed his name before he took you in his arms and pulled you close, your lips crashing into his as instincts began to overcome him as well. this was where you belonged, in his arms, in his bed.

you opened up to him, letting your jaw fall open as he forced his tongue into your heated mouth, breathy moans and gasps escaping the both of you as your body rolled against his. his hands roamed down your back and around to your hips as you clung to his neck, both gripping the other as if you would never let go. clumsily, hyunjin’s slender fingers fumbled with the laces down the sides of your dress, messy in their desperation to remove the layers of clothes separating his body from yours.

“please, my love,” he whispered, hitching your breath in your throat as you realized he wanted you as passionately as you wanted him.

you rose to your knees and began untying the various fastenings of your dress until it fell loosely around your shoulders. hyunjin sat up to help pull the fabric over your head, leaving you in only your white underclothes, an image he held in his mind during lonely nights in this very room, when the two of you could not be together for one reason or another.

he marveled at your body like it was the first time he was seeing it, though this was far from the truth. the glow of your skin in the candlelight left him breathless, the curves of your jaw, your neck, your nearly exposed breasts, and your thighs almost too much for him to handle.

his hands traced the line of your shoulder, down your arms to your wrists, where he took hold and pulled your hands up to his lips, kissing the tips of your fingers as his dark lashes fluttered closed, drinking you in with his lips instead of his eyes.

clothing was discarded piece by piece, flung into a pile somewhere on the floor until the both of you were bare, chests heaving for breath as he kissed you, longing for your taste on his tongue.

you dragged your fingernails over his defined shoulders and chest as he kissed your neck, his teeth digging into the soft flesh he found there.

his hands wandered your hips and thighs, indecisive fingertips squeezing the curves of your legs and the globes of your ass until he couldn’t fight the instincts in his head any longer.

hooking his strong hands under your knees, hyunjin flipped you over on the bed, claiming a position on top of you where he had better access to your body. thick erection pressed tightly against his stomach, he leaned forward and captured one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking the tender flesh of its underside as his hand cupped the other side of your chest.

with nothing to dampen your moans, you cried out in pleasure as his lips moved to cover the hard bud of your nipple, his teeth digging in just enough to bring you to a place of dizziness.

“my love, ” he moaned between wet kisses, lips pressed against your skin with a shudder.

he sucked harder still as his dominant hand pinched your opposite nipple and massaged the mound underneath it in circles. you writhed under him, calling out his name as he ravaged your chest. your fingers burrowed into his locks, your body scrambling for anything to hold on to as if you would float up without doing so.

your ankles came to lock around his lower back, heels pressing into his spine as he nipped at your most sensitive areas, the ones he had come to know so well.

just as your neck was starting to feel unbearably hot from the pleasure, beads of sweat rolling down both your forehead and his back, he finally released your breast with a pop of his lips, gasping as he came up for air. he leaned back on his thighs, sitting upright to survey the traces of love bites and fingertip bruises he’d left across your chest, carefully kept below where the neckline of your dress would cover the next day.

as both of you caught your breath, he stared down at the pendant that gave you this power, which rested perfectly between your breasts, glinting as it caught the light from the nearest candle. it sent hyunjin’s head spinning as he touched his throbbing cock in one hand, preparing himself for you.

“let me fill you, please.” his thighs tensed between your legs, spread wide for him, straining to hold himself back. a glistening bead of pre-cum formed at his tip, but he didn’t break eye contact with you as he spread it over the blushing head of his cock with his thumb.

“please,” you whispered, hardly able to make a sound, as hungry for him as he was for you.

hyunjin released his grip between his legs and instead reached under your knees, folding your legs into your body, knees on either side of your chest. you felt him pressing forward, putting his weight first in his hands against the back of your thighs, spreading you wider in preparation. you wept for him, slick and trembling from his ministrations on your chest and the sight of his impossibly thick cock. you knew he would fit inside you, but only just.

with a sharp inhale, he teased his cock at your hole, the head swiping at your sensitive skin before he started to push himself inside you, inch by inch as he groaned. you felt the delicious burn as his thickness stretched your walls, both inside and out, to accept him.

“that’s it, my good girl, let me fill you,” he grunted, sweat dripping off the tip of his sloped nose and onto your chest as you whined in pleasure. he pulled out slowly before thrusting inside again, this time forcing himself inside you with a singular motion that had you clawing at his shoulders, mewling as his cock filled you completely.

hyunjin moaned deliciously as the pushing and pulling began, the dragging of his thickness creating intense friction between your legs. the sheer size of his cock splitting you in two had your head thrashing from side to side as he began to lose himself, lips moving almost on their own.

his eyes rolled back in his head with a gasp as his hip bones touched your thighs as he continued to pound himself into you. his thrusts came harder and faster yet, the muscles in your thighs trembling from being spread so wide for so long. the wet squelching of his cock sliding in and out of your heat couldn’t drown out hyunjin’s cries.

“y/n, oh my g– mine, my girl. mine” his words fell from his lips like a prayer, begging for salvation but not forgiveness, finally pushing you to release. your thighs bucked up against the strength of his legs as your neck and back arched severely off the bed, head thrown back in a scream as you came on his thick cock.

despite how you gasped, hyunjin didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, until you were filled with him. slick dribbled from your hole, wetting his cock even more as he slid in and out of you, pushing himself past his own limit.

“my love, i love you, i love you,” you panted, reaching to squeeze the muscles of his sturdy arms, impossibly flexed as he thrusted deep inside one last time before coating your insides with his load, his entire body shaking.

he collapsed beside you then, lungs gasping for breath, eventually pulling you into his chest, glistening with sweat and heat. his forehead dropped onto your shoulder and he curled into you, silent sobs wrenching from his lips as he began to cry. numbly, you lifted your arms to encircle his waist before sinking down to the mattress, your bodies slotting together as you held each other..

as soon as he could gather himself again, hyunjin spoke.

“i just want to spend forever with you but–” he didn’t have to say what it was. you didn’t want him to, afraid that admitting it aloud would cause your world of illusion to disappear.

“what will we do?” you asked, your heart breaking at the sight of him. tears welling up in your own eyes.

after a moment of silence, hyunjin slowly placed the pendant around his own neck and took your hand, pulling you up quickly. with one deep breath, he reached for the door the same door you came in from, pulling you alongside him as he lifted the iron handle of his door.

you followed, and with a flash of light, you stood on a green hillside at sunrise, grass under your bare feet, your bare body now covered with a white dress of his creation. you looked up at him and found him dressed not in robes, but in a simple white tunic and pants, the wind touseling the fabric.

he held both your hands as you gazed out behind him, the breathtaking view of the similar countryside dotted with stone fences and thatched roof cottages. everything around you felt calm, including the look in his eyes. “why here?” you asked.

“because,” he replied, “in a place like this, i’m just hyunjin, and you’re just you.”

tears welled in your eyes as he reached up to stroke your cheek. perhaps it was for the last time, you thought with a twinge in your chest, maybe this was the end for the two of you. you couldn’t go on like this. but his lips fluttered lightly over yours, pulling your eyes up to meet him when he released the kiss. his hands found your face, and you waited for the final goodbye.

but you found forever in his eyes. hyunjin tucked the pendant into his shirt and offered you his hand. you took it and began to walk alongside him, over the rolling hill, toward where the sun was now peeking over the horizon.

he squeezed your hand in an unspoken promise.

he’d leave everything behind, the kingdom, everything – to stay here with you. he would wander these pastures by your side for the rest of his days, hand in hand.

maybe this world was merely a fantasy, but it was the place you could be together. it was real as long as you were together.

#celebratethemthighs #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #elf hyunjin #skz fluff #skz smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #skz scenarios

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demonologistfucker · 3 years

Text

MC wants to meet some Creatures - Obey Me! Brother’s - Fluff

Gn!mc asks one of the brothers to take them to find a magical creature. This is for the main brothers, but if people want one for the newly datables just ask! I would love to do more <3

Lucifer

Is Cerberus not enough? We can go down and pet him if you like

It’s going to take some convincing to get this trip to happen. Needlessly risking the human's life just to see something neat? I think not

But your eyes were so big when you asked… fine. He’ll find something worthwhile that isn’t going to get you killed

Prep for the trip is Lucifer covering you in about 50 different protection spells.

Then you’ll be flying. Hold on tightly and try not to look directly into the wind. That’s not good for your human eyes. Lucifer’s arms are firm around you as his wings stretch out. With a push you’re off. Being lifted from the ground purely from the strength of his wings? It’s an undescribable feeling.

Soon you are out of the Devildom and flying above the Hell Wilds. A vast landscape of all sorts of terrors. From red grasses that could cut through bone, or the vast tar fields that bubble toxic gas. There is a beauty to it. Especially if you are safe above it all.

A large canyon comes into sight. “This canyon was cut by Lotan’s first rampage, and where Levi made Lotan his pet.” Lucifer begins to descend. Swooping down in a tight spiral to slip into the canyon.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then you can see something glowing. Many somethings glowing. They crawl over the canyon sides. They are nothing like you’ve seen before, but if you were to pin down to something earth like… they are most similar to sea slugs? But they have legs and bright, piercing eyes. With beautiful fins running down their back. Each looks to be a droplet of a rainbow.

“Gems left in the earth can collect enough magic to come to life.” They have no name, but they could fit in the palm of your hand. Tho please don’t touch they are highly condensed magical creatures and could shred your human body without meaning too.

Mammon

“Can I trust you?” He looks at you with surprising serious. Though he’s scratching his chin which makes it a little hard to take him seriously. When you say Of Course, Mammon quickly cracks into a grin. “Alright, give me a day, but-” He just starts nodding and runs off. Delighted with his own idea too much to tell you more

The Next day you meet Mammon outside the house of lamentation. He is already in his demon form and has a large sack in his hands. Which appears to be full of weird trinkets and a whole lot of grimm.

Where are you going? The Hell Wilds. Which is… so unhelpful because the Hell wilds are nearly infinite.

Mammon scoops you up bridle style, and then you’re off into the air. Mammon cannot stop smiling, “I haven’t taken anyone here before.” He mainly says this too himself. But looks at you with so much delighted you can’t help but blush.

This would be a much longer flight if Mammon wasn’t so good at using the air currents to his advantage. Diving to catch the updraft that send you both rocketing through the air. You’re at not risk of danger. Mammon wouldn’t let that happen to you, but it does feel like a roller coaster. When you level out, you’re facing a dark mountain. It cuts into the air with jagged certainty. Mammon lands halfway up its sides.

“She doesn’t like it when I fly into the nest. So we’ll have to walk to the rest.” If you ask any questions about what is happening. His response is a grin. “You know how Crows and I get along? Well… this is where that started.”

The mountain is only partial rock. The rest is ash, twigs and mud stuck together to keep the mountain from falling apart. Crows and ravens sit perched along the cliff sides. Some crows come flying to the mountain with fresh mud to repair parts of the mountain. The dark birds watch you and Mammon with intense, unrelenting eyes. Mammon smiles to them, and carries on with ease.

The path winds up to a crack in the side of the mountain. Mammon gestures for you to wait outside while he walks in first. You can hear something massive stir. The rustle of feathers and the scratch of claws against stone. Then Mammon pokes his head out and beckons you in.

Curled within the mountain is a great beast. It’s hard to tell one part from another because she is massive, and her dark feathers blend into each other. Her head is stuffed into the bag Mammon brought. When she sits up, she has a golden cup in her maw. The Crow Drake is stunning and terrifying. Her eyes are molten red, and her teeth cut through the gold.

The Crow Drake is the matriarch from all the crows and ravens in Hell. When Mammon was young, he fled to this mountain and was given a drake’s comforts. As well as his first crow familiar.

She reaches up to get a good look at you. Her beak pressing against you. Nudging you around and bringing her eyes right up to yours. Then she sits back and let's out a satisfied sqwaks. Mammon is about to say something when the Crow Drake leans over and picks him up by the collar of his jacket. Mammon is plopped onto her soft back, and she begins preening his hair. Making little noises every once in a while. “I know I used too much conditioner, stop harassing me” Mammon is blushing fiercely.

Levi

“Gah! Why can’t Lotan be more gentle.” Levi really wants you to meet Lotan, but it’s highly likely that Lotan would try to kill you the moment you met. All the photos of Lotan have been just… blue scales, or a big eyeball.

But Lotan is one of many Sea serpents. Actually, there are all sorts of magical creatures in the sea, and Levi is going to tell you about All of them. While he tries to figure out how to make sure you can breathe underwater.

“I am not allowed near the merfolk palace though, so... Can’t take you there.” If pushed on the matter, he will turn red and stammer about how Lotan just wanted a snack.

He found a spell! He’ll need Solomon’s help, but it should give you 24 hours of breathing underwater. Now it’s time to go into his tank.

Did you assume that he just had a normal wall sized fish tank? Of course not. The back wall has been turned into a convenient portal to The Ocean. It’s not an earth ocean, and hell doesn’t actually have a lot of clean water. This Ocean is an in between realm that connects to the abstract of earth’s waters, and all the magic that one could possibly find in those depths.

At first Levi gets distracted showing you all the fish. Look at the coral! And the trigger Fish! Oh, what a pretty anemone. He’s so caught up in showing you around that he’s not even embarrassed to be holding your hand the whole time.

Levi is such a strong swimmer he barely even notices dragging you along with him. His tail easily propels you both forward, and with great agility he can swim through the coral reefs. Then you hit the edge. Suddenly there is a vast nothing below you. Light fades below.

Down you go! It would be more unsettling if you didn’t have leviathan right besides you. Who is practically vibrating with his excitement. Underwater Levi looks so much more comfortable. Moving with such ease and without any hesitation.

You can feel the water begin to shift as something Massive approaches. Levi pauses and let's out a trill. Which is met by a deep noise that rattles your bones.

Red is a hard color to see in the deep ocean. Not enough light in that wave length can reach that far down. So at first it’s just a dark dot in the distances. Then it’s brilliant red head comes surging towards you. The water rushes around as the sea serpent begins to swim in a spiral around you and Leviathan. Leviathan is beaming and spinning around to keep up with the Serpent’s face. Letting out happy trills sporadically.

Eventually the Sea Serpent settles down and lets its body relax out. The Serpent stretches out so far that it’s back fines look so small. Yet their face is larger than a bus. The Serpent looks at you for a long while, and then it flicks it head upward. Which makes Leviathan blush a vibrant red.

She approves

Satan

Satan needs two weeks to prepare! But he has an idea. How do you feel about sewers?

“The Devildom aqueducts are actually one of the cleanest places in hell. It’s really an astounding work of engineering-” he goes on for a while about all the intricate workings. Seems there is a lot of plant filtering the waters, as well as creatures that can digest what the plants can’t process.

Satan gives you one of his books of magic. “I am their friend, but if you want them to accept your presence, it’s best to provide a gift. To show you mean well.” Unlike the others, Satan will give you a heads-up on whom you’re about to meet. Though, he gives the explanation as you’re walking towards the sewer’s entrance.

“Their name is Elos, and they are one of the oldest chimera’s alive. They were created in less than stellar circumstances, but handled it rather well.” By eating their creator. “Now they used the leftover alchemical equipment to do their own studying, as well as keep the aqueduct ecosystem in balance.”

The entrance looks like any other sewer grate in a city. Satan can easily move the heavy cover off, and watches as you begin to climb down the ladder. Satan closes the cover as he starts his descent. The sewers are Massive. The tunnel is about 20 feet wide and 20 tall. A perfect circle, except for the walk ways going along the side. A sort of seaweed is growing at the bottom of the waterways. Little fish duck in and out of the waving reeds. Further in more plants grow along the side. Some areas have full banks that cover the waterways. You can also see long claw marks running along the sides of the tunnel. As well as the residue of a recent magical explosion. “Hmm, looks like Elos got annoying company.” Satan smirks at the blast marks.

One of the original designers of the sewers was the grand wizard who made Elos. So there is a laboratory at the dead center of the sewer system. If one were to look at the blueprints, you’d be able to see a magic circle drawn by the tunnels. Well almost one. Those plans were later worked over to fix the functionality of the sewer system for the devildom. Elos didn’t want to do any city wide magic, so they aren’t really upset about it.

Outside of Elos’s laboratory is a large blue door. Painted on it are bright yellow runes that start to shimmer green as Satan approaches. Satan knocks, and it’s a full three minutes before the sound of the door unlocking. With effort, it swings inwards, and the smell of chemicals and herbs assaults your nostrils.

Satan goes about the polite introduction. Leading you into the laboratory, but it’s hard to pay attention. There are so many strange machines littered across the room, and Elos themself is a feat to understand. Their face is divided into three parts, one of a bull, one of a woman, and the other of an ape. They have large arms with hands that drag across the floor. Their fingers are thin claws of a bird. Chest comes from some great lizard not from earth. Hide legs appear to be lion like, and its tail is an arched scorpion stinger. Elos looks at you with deep eyes.

When you present the spell book Satan gave you. Elos sneers at you but takes the book. “A gift provided from someone else is weaker… but will do.” her voice is a dry and raspy. Speaking with vocal cords never crafted for such intricate language.

Asmodeous

“Want to meet some of the lovelies that help me torment souls?!”

They’re the creature Asmodeous has easy access to, so I recommend saying yes if you want to go with him

“They’re for a very specific time of person. The sort who think their beauty makes up for all the harm they caused.” A dark look smolders in Asmo’s eyes, but when he looks at you, it softens. Back to his normal bright heart eyes.

Asmo summons a cab to drive you both to the outskirts of the devildom. To… a ranch? Soft green meadows stretch out as far as you can see. Wooden fences mark the edge of the road. When you look close, you can see sigils carved into the posts.

Out in the field you can see them. Powerful horses with glimmering spiraled horns. Some are pure white with long wavy mains, but they are as diverse as any herd of horses.

“My beautiful unicorns,” Asmo leans over the fences to get a better look at them. “You’ll get to have a closer look at those in the stables right now. They won’t be too happy about being locked up, but they’re so wonderful just to look at.”

These unicorns come from more of a… vicious tradition. Their diets are completely carnivorous and with a strong preference for humans.

While you enter the stables, Asmo explains that these stables are more for necessary check-ups, and not where the unicorns stayed. They had their own dens somewhere in the meadows. Asmo hadn’t cared to find it, but it is out there.

So the unicorns that are in are here to have a thorough cleaning by one of the stable works. No you cannot help I’m afraid. These Unicorns would not be able to tell you apart from the souls they are encouraged to feast upon. All the other folk who work at the stable are non-human, and they still get bite. What’s worse is when a Unicorn decided to charge.

To make sure none of that happens, you’ll be safely on the other side of the door. Even though you can’t get close. You still can see the Unicorns very well. They are beautiful creatures. The shortest is still taller than the average horses. With eyes set more forward on their skull, and sharp angular bodies. Their legs are less brittle. With hooves that are divined into three sharp angles.

While most of the unicorns with in the stable seem antsy to leave. They all give their own greeting to Asmo. A dappled gray is the most affectionate. Letting Asmo pet the sides of their face, and rubbing up against Asmo’s head. It looks at you with curiosity. Sniffs the air and whinnies. “I know,” Asmo coos. “They are very tasty looking, but you can’t have any. I want this human to stick around.” The Unicorn snorts and flicks it tail in annoyance.

Beelzebub

His eyes light up when you ask to meet some magical creatures. “We won’t have to go too far… but we should wait till the house is quiet.” Que Mammon sprinting through the hallways trying to out run Lucifer. “They don’t like the ruckus.”

Beel asks you to meet him in the kitchen once everyone else has gone to their rooms. When you enter you find him setting out a tray with a dish of milk, honey, and some crackers. He then hands you a block of cheese. “Cut up some cubes of this.” and so you do. Beel doesn’t take any food from the tray, but he does rummage in the fridge while you get the cheese ready.

Once it’s all ready, Beel sets the tray in the middle of the counter. He then pulls out a little golden bell, and rings it. There is a beat of silence, and then doors you had never seen before open. One door is tucked into the wall trim, another in the backspace, and a third underneath the cabinets. Who comes tumbling out are small fuzzy creatures. They walk on their hind legs, and have large flat faces. Almost like a bat, but their eyes are old and wise. They are dressed in hand stitched clothes made from old table clothes, towels, or other scraps of fabric they could steal without much fuss.

“Who is this?!” One of them points pocket knife at you. “My friend,” Beel says and when he looks at you he can’t help but smile. “Hmm… did your friend cut this cheese?” Beel nods. “Next time make them smaller. Our children will struggle to hold these.”

These are House Brownies. A type of fae that can be found in most loving homes. They are a people of high standards but with over whelming big hearts. Beel is the main reason the house brownies live within the house of lamentation. No one else remembers to set out food for them. So no one else gets the help of the Brownies. Beel however often finds that his chores have been done for him, and snacks are often left on his bed side table. Small snack since the brownies can’t carry too much, but he deeply appreciates it.

Brownies are some of the easiest fae to talk with. The worst you can do is hurt their pride, but they are quick to accept earnest apologies. Not the sort of fae who will steal your name and trick you into dancing yourself to death… well… There have been a couple brownies who have done that. But the people were true assholes.

One of the brownies who is dress in a floral dress comes up to you. They give you a once over, and then start to climb up the back of your shirt. Now on your shoulder, the Brownie sniffs your face and pokes your cheeks. The Brownie’s whiskers tickle, and it’s hard not to react. But their fur is so soft, and they smell like honey and clove.

“You should have brought this one sooner.” The floral Brownie says in a sing-song voice. “They can bring us human snacks, yes?” “I want a candy!” Another brownie cheers. “Are human homes as noisy as demon homes?” “What is a cat? We hear the mean one speak of them, but never have seen them.” “Is cat friend or foe to the brownie?” Another brownie is now climbing you. This one decided to perch on the top of your head. “Human smells nice. Keep them Beel.”

Belphegor

“Okay, but you’re paying for their snacks.”

Which turned out to be nearly ten pounds of red meat. You’re also the one who has to carry the bag as you walk into the properly sketchy parts of the Devildom city. Belphegor looks as nonchalant as normal. Except for when he needs to glare at any other Demon who might start making eyes at you.

Now it’s into the dark alleys you go. Winding past business and into tight brick alley ways. The surrounding buildings seem to tower up through the sky. Blocking the darkness above. There is even a hint of sulfur in the air.

“Alright, set the meat down.” Belphegor stops at the intersection of four alley ways. It makes a small circle in the middle. The ground is dark and stained from years of murk. Moss grows up the walls, and blooms in the cracks. You set the meat down and then back up next to Belphegor. “Are you nervous?” He grins a little and then brings his fingers to his lips and whistles Loud.

You can hear them running. Many heavy feet charging down the paths. They’re coming from every direction, and now hear their panting breath. Growling and snarls as they try to be the first to reach their meal.

If you thought earthly wolves are big. You are blown away by the size of hellhounds. They keep their heads low but still stand at least three feet tall. Their teeth are as black as their fur, and they have barbed tails that whip back and forth in a frenzy. The Hell hounds are at first completely distracted by the food left out for them.

“When they’re not hungry, they’re really sweet.” Belphegor crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. Patiently waiting for the Hell Hounds to calm down. “They’re in the city to hunt down pests. Lucifer see’s them as exterminators,” One of the Hell Hounds now trots over to Belphegor. It rams its head into his stomach, demanding attention. Belphie laughs a little and starts to scratch its ears. Now content that it’s getting love. The Hell Hound eyes you. First a sniff, and then it tries to bite your clothes. “Hey,” Belphie says in a stern voice, and that’s all the Hound needed. You’re not food? Well then you must be friend too.

The message is spread through the rest of the pack, and soon you are surrounded. The Hell Hounds breath is rancid, and they will not stop trying to give you kisses.

Two of the hounds manage to get Belphie on the ground, and sit on top of him. Belphie’s face is flushed, and he only tries to get them off half-heartedly. Then accepts their cuddles and closes his eyes. “They’re not allowed in the house. So I come here a lot… you can join me next time if you want.”

A/N: Thank you @squidubus for the great idea of Mama Crow Drake preening Mammon’s hair. I luuuv uuuu

#I had... so much fun with this #mammon's mom is a Crow Drake #Obey me!#Obey me! headcanon #Obey me! Lucifer #Obey me! Mammon #Obey me! Leviathan #Obey me! Satan #Obey me! Asmodeous #Obey me! Beelzebub #Obey me! Belphegor #my writing #creatures #fantasy #I just love magical creatures okAY?!#also you with MC powers Can befriend the man eating unicrons if you really want but you gotta Earn it

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maxismatchccworld · 3 years

Photo

Asks and Facts about Country Living

(I add them when I see them)

Are there any new careers with this pack?

We do not have a traditional career in the sense, but Sims can absolutely make a living raising and caring for their animals and new giant produce. There is also a system that we will talk about soon, called Village Errands. The locals will have lots for your Sims to do!

Seeing you’re answering QnA, do you think you can tell us how big this beautiful new world is, like how many lots there are?

3 neighborhoods with 4 lots each.

Any 64x64? With farm animals and crops I’d imagine we’d really need that size.

There is 1 64x64 in the countryside neighborhood. That is where we have our largest lots.

I’m really concerned about the new beef recipe and the addition of cows... how do you get the beef?

You will be able to purchase beef, chicken, and other ingredients from the local shop in town, or order it through the new Grocery Deliver service.

Local shop as a store inside building or a market stall? Or both?

Market Stall.

Canning/Preserving Skill ? Or only buying the Jams in the Grocery Store?

We actually tied Canning to the cooking skill, but we do have a new skill coming in the pack. More info to come soon.

We added a handful of new recipes to this pack to fit the cottage theme. Milk Bread is one of them. We added the ability to cook with a group of Sims. So, kids will not cook on their own but they can help their parents to make it a family activity!

We also added some additional things to children. More info to come =D

New woohoo spots or deaths in the new pack???

I am excited about the new deathS for this pack. More info soon. Also we do have a new woohoo spot =D

What about BUNNIES ???

Bunnies and Birds can be found out in the wild. As you befriend these cuddly creatures you can purchase a rabbit or bird home for your lot to have them show up more often. They can also help out in the garden! These animals will also not take up a slot in your household. =D

I'm very confused. Are bunnies pets or not?

They are not pets that you have to feed and constantly care for. They are pretty self sufficient. You can place their homes on your lot, assuming you have enough relationship with them. They will come and go as they please.

You will be able to build relationship and name the rabbits, so they will hang around your lot a lot. It is almost like having them as a pet, without having to cage them. They are free spirits. =D

Most importantly, do the bunnies pick out their own clothes or can our sims dress them? what about the chickens?

There will be a lot more info around animal clothing soon, but animals will not do it autonomously. Have you ever seen a rabbit knit their own sweater? that's crazy talk =p

But you can befriend them like the rabbits? Will cats and dogs react to these new pets ?

More information about befriending these wild animals soon, but yes all the wild animals in this pack will have relationships with your Sims, through a brand new gifting system.

I know this expansion will be a farming pack but it's also a nature pack so that's why I'm hoping for picnic baskets and more pool items.

Picnic Basket you say....

You will be able to pack your picnic basket and bring it to some very scenic locations in Henford-On Bagley. Once placed on a table you will be able to set up a picnic with a single interaction off the basket.

Could you please confirm if the new animals don’t take up a household slot in the game?

Correct, Cows, Llamas, and Chickens will not take up a household slot. You will be able to place an Animal Shed and purchase either a cow or llama for the shed. You will also be able to purchase a chicken coop and have up to 8 chickens per coop.

Will llamas, bunnies, and cows have lifestages and be able to be born and pass away?

Animals will eventually die of old age, but there are ways to keep them alive forever if you choose.

If we don't cure our animals, they will die??

Animals will not get sick. They do die of old age tho. There are ways for you to keep them alive longer if you choose.

Any insight into the foxes? They seem to be the same as the foxes from Cats & Dogs - have they been added into Cottage Living as a bonus? Or do they behave differently?

These foxes are true wild foxes. What this means is you will not be able to add them to your household like you can in Cats & Dogs. You will also not need to own pets to see them roaming around. These foxes are vary devious, and they love to steal chickens!

We created a new "Lot Challenge" system, more info on that soon. All the lots in the new world will start with the "Wild Fox" challenge enabled. If you don't want foxes to pester you, you will be able to disable that challenge, but who doesn't want a cute cuddly fox hanging out?

We actually created all new animations for the fox. They will skulk about your lot and act more fox like. They also will get into your chicken coop.

I see you answering questions how much (if at all) will this pack tie into Nifty Knitting with regard to collecting llama wool and using it for knitting? But also will any items in this pack be knittable (eg. some of the jumpers and/or some of the clothes for the animals)

You will be able to negate the simolean cost for all knitting items by using Llama Wool.

Will there be a fair amount of clothing for each sex? The male Sims seem to get less and less items with each pack released.

We are adding a good variety of male clothing for this pack.

Can we breed them? Baby bunnies??

You will only be able to breed Chickens.

So is this a pool then or false advertisement?

What you see here is the Bagley river from the new world. The new world of Henford-on-Bagley will have various locations Sims can swim off lot.

Sims will be able to splash and play in the shallow edges of the pond. Essentially they can do what you see in this image.

I have a question on the oversize crop patch. Will it only for the new crops, or will it be applicable to all the crops which includes the cowplant & the tree fruits?

The oversized crops are brand new crops, and function slightly differently than your normal gardening plants.

Will ponds get frozen in winter if you have seasons installed? just asking :D

Yes Ponds will freeze in the winter. =D

The Ponds , will come in the previous update, or directly in the pack ?

Ponds will be free to everyone when Cottage Living drops.

#S4 news

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echoalyssa · 3 years

Note

Hi,

I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I just wanted to ask if you could write something for Chase Hudson. Maybe were you are in the Hype House and they have snakes there. But you are kinda afraid of them, but with the help of chase you touch them. But also like fluff and you hug him, something like that. I don't know if that is possible or not I just wanted to ask because I like your style of writing.

Please stay healty and love u

Snakes | Chase Hudson Request

Authors Note: You aren’t bothering me at all! I love getting things sent to my inbox! I hope you enjoy this, I had lots of fun writing this! I’m actually super into snakes and reptiles so almost launched into a paragraph about morphs... oops. Love you too :)

Chase had recently begun fulfilling his dreams of starting his very own collection of snakes. Now most people would go for something fluffy like a dog, cat or hamster. Though you couldn’t exactly collect those animals. And while Chase loved the fluffy animals, his vampire self had always been the most drawn to those scaly slithery worms.

They just scared you... the lack of limps, the split tongue, the fangs, the thought of one getting loose. It seemed Chase was always coming home with a new snake, always ready to add another one to his collection.

And now Chase is pulling your hand in an attempt to drag you into his bedroom where all the snakes lived. You were screaming and kicking, yelling his name and fighting to get away because... ew snakes. Wasn’t that something that mostly everyone feared?

“Chase! Please, no!” The rest of the house is partly laughing and partly feeling bad because they didn’t like the snakes themselves. “Anyone but me!” You holler, digging your heels into the ground to create some friction and hopefully stop the pulling... to no avail.

He drags you through the door and slams it shut behind the two of you before his long arms wrap around your waist and pull you into him.

“Babygirl... it’s okay I promise. Please just let me show you my babies?”

His voice is begging and because it’s him... your boyfriend you can’t help but relax into him and nod your consent.

After a few moments his grip on you loosens and he looks at the door, still slightly worried that you’ll bolt for the door as soon as he reaches for one of the snakes. Which, quite honestly, is still a possibility.

“So this is my rack,” he gestures to a shelf housing a bunch of plastic bins in the corner of his room. “Currently I’ve got five but my sixth baby will be getting shipped next week as soon as the weather gets better.”

He pulls one of the bins out and you squeal, squirming back towards the door.

“There’s heat tape on the bottom which keeps them warm, because that’s what they need. The rack is just temporary because once we have our own place I’d like to get them into large enclosures so that they’re happier and it looks prettier. They actually all need to be fed today, but dont worry because they’re all on thawed rodents.”

“EW CHASE!” You yell at him. Of course you were glad he wasn’t chucking live rats or mice at them but it was still terrible to think of it.

He laughs, “They couldn’t be vegetarians even if they wanted to.”

He pulls out a fully black snake and the animal immediately curls around his hand and begins to climb up his chest and wind around his neck like a scarf.

“Chase!”

He laughs softly, not in a way that would ever come across as making fun of you but you know that he would never do that. It’s okay, she’s harmless. I do this with her all the time, this is just how she’s most comfortable.

“She could strangle you!”

He smiles and easily removes the snake that was wound around his neck only to let her go back. She seems to settle into him and decide to go back to slee.

“That’s...”

“Want to touch her? Or at least let me come a few feet closer.”

You had to admit, you’d never seen a fully black snake and you could see why Chase was intrigued. While you’re watching the snake Chase steps closer to you, so that he’s barely three feet away. Allowing you a good view of her. She truly is a beautiful creature.

“You can poke her if you want to. I’ll even hold her head or cover her eyes so she can’t see or get to you.”

She was so fascinating, and slowly the fear was ebbing away, you may never hold her or interact with any snakes larger than her but you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted to poke her.

So very tentatively you reach out a hand a poke her, close to her tail. It’s quick and you quickly retract your hand after it’s done. She’d felt very smooth and hadn’t even moved from her perch on your boyfriend. And because you had done it once, the curiousity in you growing. So you reach out and stroke her. Letting your fingers run over her scales. You pull away after you reach the end of her.

That’s about all you want to do with her but Chase is beaming. “I’m so proud of you,” he says softly as he puts the snake back. He leans over to kiss you softly and then pulls back to grin at you.

“Want to see another one?”

#tiktok #tiktok star #chase #Hudson #lil Huddy #chase hudson #chase hudson imagine #chase hudson x reader #lil huddy x reader #lil huddy imagine #snake #chase hudson snake

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themousefromfantasyland · 3 years

Text

How the Tooth Fairy Became a Guardian

Extracted from Toothiana, Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies, third book in the Guardians of Childhood series by William Joyce.

In this series, which served as inspiration for the DreamWorks' Rise of the Guardians, William Joyce managed to create one of the craziest and most epic origin stories for the Tooth Fairy. If I'm not mistaken, in one interview, he himself admitted how crazy it was, and how it was inspired by jungle movies he watched as a kid.

The bookworm bowed and told them, “The story of the Queen of Toothiana lies in volume six of Curious Unexplainables of the East.”

“Of course! I should have remembered that myself,” Ombric said, nodding. “Mr. Qwerty, please enlighten us.” (Ombric, the Wizard,and Qwerty, the literal bookworm, are characters that only appeared in the books)

The Guardians sat around the table while Mr. Qwerty began his tale.

“To know the story of Queen Toothiana,” he said, “you must first hear the tale of the maharaja, his slave Haroom, and the Sisters of Flight.”

“Sisters of Flight?” North interrupted.

“Sisters of Flight,” Mr. Qwerty repeated patiently. The image of a beautiful winged woman appeared on one of Mr. Qwerty’s pages. She was human-size, with long, willowy arms and legs and a heart-shaped face. But her wings were magnificent, and she held a bow and arrow of extraordinary design.

The Sisters of Flight were an immortal race of winged women who ruled the city of Punjam Hy Loo, which sits atop the steepest mountain in the mysterious lands of the Farthest East. An army of noble elephants stood guard at the base of the mountain. No humans were allowed to enter, for the mountain’s jungle was a haven for the beasts of the wild—a place where they could be safe from men and their foolishness.

Toothiana’s father was a human by the name of Haroom. He had been sold at birth into slavery as a companion for a young Indian maharaja. Despite being slave and master, the maharaja and Haroom became great friends. But the maharaja was a silly, vain boy who had his every wish and whim granted. Yet this did not make him happy, for he always wanted more.

Haroom, Toothiana's father

Haroom, who had nothing, wanted nothing and so was very content. Secretly, the maharaja admired his friend for this. For his part, Haroom admired the maharaja for knowing what he wanted—and getting it.

The maharaja loved to hunt and slay all the animals of the wild, and Haroom, who never tired of watching the powerful elegance of wild creatures such as tigers and snow leopards, was an excellent tracker. But he hated to see the animals killed, so when that moment came, he always looked away. As a slave, he could do nothing to stop his master. And so, with Haroom tracking, the maharaja killed one of every beast in his kingdom, lining the palace walls with their heads as trophies. But the one animal the maharaja coveted most continued to elude him.

In the mountain land ruled by the Sisters of Flight, there dwelled one creature that no slave, man, or ruler had ever seen: the flying elephant of Punjam Hy Loo.

The maharaja was determined to do anything to have one for his collection, but every time he tried to force his way up the mountain, the elephant army at its base turned him back. He realized that he must find another way to reach Punjam Hy Loo.

In those ancient times no man had yet discovered the mystery of flight. But after demanding advice from his wizards and soothsayers, the maharaja learned a secret: Children can fly when they dream, and when the Moon shines brightly, their dreams can become so vivid that some of them come true. Sometimes the children remember, but mostly they do not. That is why children sometimes wake up in their parents’ beds without knowing how they got there—they flew!

The wizards told the maharaja a second secret.” At this, Mr. Qwerty lowered his voice, and all the Guardians leaned closer. “The memory of everything that happens to a child is stored in that child’s baby teeth.

And so the maharaja’s wizards gave him an idea: fashion a craft of the lost teeth of children and command it to remember how to fly. The maharaja sent out a decree throughout his kingdom, stating that whenever a child lost a tooth, it must be brought to his palace. His subjects happily complied, and it was not long before he had assembled a craft unlike any other the world had ever known.

Meanwhile, the maharaja ordered Haroom to make an archer’s bow of purest gold and one single ruby-tipped arrow. When the weapon was finished, the maharaja ordered Haroom to join him aboard the craft. Then he said these magic words:

‘Remember,

remember,

the moonlit flights

of magic nights.’

And just as the royal wizards had promised, the craft flew silently through the sky, over the jungle, and past the elephants who guarded Punjam Hy Loo.

They descended from the clouds and flew into the still-sleeping city. In the misty light of dawn, the maharaja could hardly tell where the jungle ended and the city began. But Haroom, used to seeking out tracks, spotted some he had never seen before—tracks that could only belong to the flying elephant, for although they looked similar to a normal elephant’s, his keen eye saw one addition: an extra digit pointing backward, like that of a bird.

It did not take long to find the flying elephant, sleeping in a nest in the low-lying limbs of an enormous jujube tree. The maharaja raised the golden bow and took careful aim. The tip of the ruby arrow glittered in the first rays of morning sunlight. Haroom looked away.

Suddenly, there came an intense, cacophonous alarm, as if every creature of Punjam Hy Loo knew of the maharaja’s murderous intent. Charging down from the towers above came the Sisters of Flight, wings outstretched, with all manner of weapons at the ready—gleaming swords, razor-sharp daggers, fantastical flying spears with wings of their own. It was a sight so beautiful, so terrifying that Haroom and the maharaja froze.

Then the maharaja raised his bow again, this time aiming it at the Sisters of Flight. ‘Look, Haroom, an even greater prize,’ he exclaimed.

In that single moment Haroom’s whole life changed. He knew, for the very first time, what he wanted. He could not bear to see a Sister of Flight harmed. He ordered the maharaja to stop.

The maharaja paid his servant no heed. He let loose the arrow. Haroom blocked it. Its ruby tip pierced his chest, and he crumbled to the ground.

The maharaja stared in shock, then kneeled beside his fallen friend. Weeping, he tried to stop the flow of blood but could not. Haroom was dying.

The Sisters of Flight landed around them. The most beautiful of the sisters, the one the maharaja had meant to kill, approached them. ‘We did not know that any man could be so selfless,’ she said. Her sisters nodded.

With one hand, she grabbed the arrow and plucked it from Haroom’s chest, then kissed her fingertips and gently touched his wound.

Haroom stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. All he could see was the face of the Sister of Flight. And all she could see was the brave and noble Haroom.

He was a slave no more.

She took his hand, and in that instant her wings vanished.

The other sisters lunged toward the maharaja in fury. They raised their swords, and Haroom could see they meant to kill his former master. ‘He will no longer harm you,’ he said. ‘Please, let him go—send him on his way.’

The sisters looked from one to the other, then agreed. But they declared that the maharaja must leave all he brought with him. The golden bow, the ruby-tipped arrow, the flying craft of teeth, and Haroom, his only friend.

‘And one thing more. You must also leave your vanity and cruelty behind so that we can know and understand them.’

The maharaja was heartbroken but agreed.

The flying elephant glided down from his nest, and with his trunk, he touched the maharaja’s forehead, and all the vanity and cruelty went from him.

But once these things were gone, there was little left—the maharaja was as simple as a baby monkey. In fact, he even sprouted a tail and scampered away speaking gibberish, shrinking to the size of an infant.

His vanity and cruelty would never be forgotten—the flying elephant had them now, and an elephant never forgets. As for Haroom and the beautiful Sister of Flight, they were married and lived on in Punjam Hy Loo. Within a year, a child was born. A girl. Selfless like her father. Pure of heart like her mother. She was named Toothiana.

The child of Haroom and Rashmi (for that was Toothiana’s mother’s name) seemed to be a normal mortal child. As there were no other human children living in Punjam Hy Loo, her parents thought it best to raise her among other mortals, and so they settled on the outskirts of a small village at the edge of the jungle. The young girl was well loved and protected and lived a simple, happy life until she was twelve and lost her last baby tooth. That’s when all her troubles began.

“Troubles?” Katherine asked nervously. (Katherine is also another book only character. She is friend of the Guardians and future guardian herself, Mother Goose, guardian of the stories)

“Yes, troubles,” Mr. Qwerty said. “For when she lost her last baby tooth, Toothiana sprouted wings. By the end of this first miraculous day, she could fly with the speed of a bird, darting to the top of the tallest trees to choose the ripest mangoes, papayas, and starfruit for the children of the village. She played with the birds and made friends with the wind.

But while the children delighted in Toothiana’s new skill, the adults of the village were bewildered, even frightened, by this half bird, half girl. Some thought she was an evil spirit and should be killed; others saw ways to use her, as either a freak to be caged and paraded about, or to force her to fly to the palace of the new maharaja and steal his jewels.

Haroom and Rashmi knew that to keep their daughter safe, they would have to pack their few belongings and escape. And so they did, deep into the jungle. The village children, all of whom adored Toothiana, tried to persuade their parents to leave her alone. But it was no use. The grown-ups of the village had gone mad with fear and greed.

They built a large cage, hired the best hunters in the land, and asked them to capture the young girl. Among these was a hunter most mysterious. He spoke not a word and was shrouded from head to foot in tattered cloth stitched together with jungle vines. The villagers were wary of him, and even the other hunters found him peculiar. ‘He knows the jungle better than any of us—it’s as if he’s more a creature than a man,’ they remarked quietly among themselves.

But Haroom and Rashmi were as wily as any hunter. Haroom, knowing everything there was to know about tracking, could disguise their trail so that no one could follow it. And Rashmi, who could converse with any animal, enlisted their aid in confounding the hunters. Tigers, elephants, even giant pythons would intercept the hunters whenever they neared. But the hunters, eager for the riches and fame they’d receive if they caged Toothiana, would not give up.

Rashmi, Toothiana's mother

The children of the village were also determined to thwart the hunters. They defied their parents, sending word to Toothiana and her mother and father again and again whenever the hunters were stalking the jungle. Toothiana, wiser still, hid in the treetops by day, only visiting her parents in the darkest hours of the night.

After weeks of the best hunters in the land failing to capture Toothiana, the cunning villagers became more sly. They secretly followed their children and discovered where Toothiana’s parents were hiding. They left a trail of coins for the hunters to follow. But only one hunter came—the one they almost feared. It was then that the Mysterious Hunter finally spoke. His voice was strange, high-pitched, almost comical, but his words were cold as death. ‘Seize the parents,’ he snarled. ‘Make it known that I will slit their throats if Toothiana does not surrender. That will bring this child of flight out of hiding.’

His plan made sense; the villagers did as he suggested. They attacked Haroom and Rashmi’s camp. With so many against them, the two surrendered without a fight. They had told their clever daughter to never try and help them if they were ever captured.

But the Mysterious Hunter had planned for that. He shouted out to any creature that could hear, ‘The parents of the flying girl will die by dawn if she comes not!’

The creatures of the jungle hurried to warn Toothiana that her parents were doomed if she did not come. Toothiana had never disobeyed her parents, but the thought of them at the dubious mercy of these grown-ups filled her with rage and determination, and she flew straight to her parents’ aid. She dove down from the treetops, ready to kill any who would try to harm her parents.

But Haroom and Rashmi were brave and cunning as well. Haroom, who had never harmed a living creature, was prepared to stop at nothing to prevent his daughter from being enslaved. And Rashmi, like all Sisters of Flight, had been a great warrior. As Toothiana neared, they slashed and fought like beings possessed. Toothiana flickered back and forth, hovering over her mother and father, reaching for them, but she did not have the strength to lift them up over the angry mob. Rashmi thrust a stringed pouch into her daughter’s hands. ‘Keep these to remember us by. Keep these to protect yourself,’ she pleaded to her child.

'Now go!’ commanded her father. ‘GO!’

With a heartrending cry, the winged girl did as her father ordered. She flew away but stopped, unsure of what to do. Her ears filled with the sound of the vengeful mob falling upon her parents.

‘Go!’ shouted her mother.

Toothiana flew wildly and desperately away. And as she went, she screamed from the depths of her soul. It was the scream of two beings: human and animal. It was a scream so pained and fierce that it caused all the villagers who were attacking her parents to go briefly deaf. All except . . . the Mysterious Hunter. He screamed back to Toothiana. His was a scream equally unsettling—a scream of rage and hate that was more animal than human. Toothiana knew in that instant that she had a mortal enemy—one who she must kill or be killed by.

But for now she would grieve. She flew to the highest treetop and huddled deep inside its foliage. She had no tears, only the blank ache of a now-empty life. She rocked back and forth in a trance of disbelief for a full day and night. Then she remembered the pouch her mother had thrust into her hands. Trembling, she opened it. Inside was a small box carved from a single giant ruby. It was covered in feathery patterns, and Toothiana knew that the box had once been the ruby-tipped arrow that had nearly killed her parents. Inside this beautiful box was a cluster of baby teeth and a note:

Our Dearest Girl,

These are the teeth of your childhood. If you have them under your pillow as you sleep, or hold it tightly, you will remember that which you need—a memory of happy days, or of deepest hopes, or even of us in better times.

But one tooth is not yours. It is a tooth of amazing power, and from what being it comes from, we do not know.

Use it only in times of the greatest danger or need.

Your Dearest Parents

Toothiana still did not cry, not even after reading the note. She slept with her baby teeth under her pillow and took solace in the dreams and memories it gave her.

Toothiana stayed in the jungle. She began to hate her wings. Once, she had thought them wondrous things, but now she saw them as the reason for the death of her parents. Her grief and loneliness knew no depths. The creatures of the jungle did what they could to help her, by bringing her food and making her treetop sleeping places as comfortable as possible. The children of the village tried to aid as well, but they now had to be doubly cautious of the village grown-ups.

As for Toothiana, she became more and more convinced that she belonged nowhere—not among the creatures of the jungle and certainly not among the humans of the village. She was alone. When she was at her very saddest, she would take one of her baby teeth from the carved box she always carried in her mother’s pouch she now wore around her neck, and hold it until it revealed its memories.

As the lonely years passed, Toothiana saw that the village children lost much of their innocence and some of their goodness as they grew up. She began to collect their teeth, so that, in the future, she could give them back their childhood memories and remind them of their kindness, just as her own parents had done for her.

Soon the children, not wanting their parents to find out, began to hide their lost teeth under their pillows for Toothiana to find. And she, cheered by this new game of sorts, began in turn to leave behind small bits of treasure she had found in the jungle. A gold nugget here. A sprinkling of sapphire chips there.

But you can imagine the curiosity that is stirred when a five-year-old sits down to breakfast with an uncut ruby in her palm, or when a ten-year-old boy comes to the table with a pocket full of emeralds. Once again the hearts of the grown-ups filled with greed, and it wasn’t long before they forced their children to tell them how they had come upon those treasures. Soon enough they had laid a new trap for Toothiana.

One dark, cloudy night Toothiana flew to the village to make her nightly rounds. A boy named Akela had lost his two front teeth, and Toothiana had a special treasure saved for him: two beautiful uncut diamonds. But as she entered his open window, it wasn’t Akela she found. Instead the Mysterious Hunter leaped toward her. From behind his shroud of rags, she could see the strangest eyes. Close together. Beady. Not entirely human. And cold with hate.

Toothiana’s rage clouded her keen intellect. All she could think was, I must get rid of this . . . thing! But before she could act, a steel door slammed down between her and the Hunter. She glanced around with birdlike quickness. The room was not Akela’s bedroom, but, in fact, a cleverly disguised steel cage.

She was trapped! The villagers cheered as the Hunter hauled away the cage. His platoon of slavelike helpers pulled the wheeled prison away from the villagers and into the jungle. The helpers were as strangely shrouded as the Hunter who commanded them was, and seemed excited by the capture. The children wept, begging their parents to let Toothiana go free. But they would not. The Mysterious Hunter had promised them riches beyond their dreams when he sold Toothiana.

Toothiana flung herself wildly against the cage, like a cornered eagle. But it did no good. The Hunter and his minions traveled swiftly through the night, deeper into the jungle. They knew the creatures of the wild would try to help Toothiana, so they carried the one weapon every animal fears: fire.

Torches were lashed to the roof of Toothiana’s cage. The Mysterious Hunter himself carried the brightest torch of all. The animals kept their distance, but they continued to follow the eerie caravan and keep watch over Toothiana, waiting for a chance to strike.

After days of travel they arrived at the base of the steep mountain of Toothiana’s birthplace—the kingdom of Punjam Hy Loo. The great elephants that guarded the mountain were standing at the ready, shifting back and forth on their massive feet. Toothiana’s jungle friends had warned them that the Mysterious Hunter was headed their way.

The Hunter did not challenge the elephants. He ordered his minions to halt and made no move to attack. Instead, he held his flaming torch aloft. ‘I bring a treasure to the Sisters of Flight and the flying elephant king who dwell in Punjam Hy Loo!’ he shouted into the night sky. The sky was empty; there was no sign of either the winged women who ruled there, or of the flying elephant.

The Hunter called out again. ‘I bring you the half-breed daughter of Haroom and Rashmi.’ At this, an otherworldly sound—like a rustle of trees in the wind—was heard. And indeed wind did begin to blow down from the mountain. It grew stronger and more furious, with gusts that nearly put out the torches.

Toothiana knew instinctually that this wind was sent by the Sisters of Flight and that they did not trust the Hunter. She also knew that it was time to take out the box her parents had left her.

As the winds continued to rise, the Hunter grew increasingly nervous, as did his minions. They began to chatter in the oddest way, not in words, but in sounds.

Then a chorus of voices, all speaking in unison, rang out bright and clear above the howl of the wind: ‘Tell us, Hunter, why cage our child? Where be her father and mother? What trick of men do you bring us? What do you seek, you who seem of men and yet are not?’

The Hunter rocked on his feet, seething with undisguised hate. He held his torch high and stepped forward, leaning into the wind. The elephants raised their trunks but took a step back. Fire was a fearsome thing, even for these mighty beasts.

The Hunter laughed, then threw down his tattered cloak. He was no man at all, but a massive monkey. ‘A maharaja of men I once was,’ he screamed, ‘and by your doing, I am now a king of the monkeys!’ Then his troops dropped their cloaks as well. An array of monkeys revealed themselves, all armed with bows and arrows.

The Monkey King shrieked above the roaring wind, ‘You ask about her parents? Dead! By my doing! What do I seek? Revenge! On all who made me thus!’ Then he threw his torch into the herd of elephants and grabbed a bow and arrow from one of his men. He had it drawn in an instant, aimed directly at Toothiana’s heart.

Before he could let loose the arrow, the wind tripled in strength. Toothiana knew what to do. She held the ruby box tightly in her hand. ‘Mother, Father, help me,’ she whispered furiously, clenching her eyes shut. She pictured them clearly in her mind, letting herself feel the bond they had shared so deeply, letting herself remember how much they had sacrificed for her.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the cage. She was no longer a single entity, but several smaller versions of herself.

Bow drawn, the Monkey King hesitated, bewildered. How can this be? He could not remember the power of love—even though it had been this girl’s father who had loved him best—and his own memories were now fueled only by hate.

So the world turned against him once again.

The Sisters of Flight circled overhead. It was the flapping of their wings that made the great wind. It grew wilder and stranger, like a tornado. Leaves snapped off trees. Dirt swirled like a storm, and the Monkey King’s torch blew out.

Now the only light came from the Moon, and no jungle creature fears that guiding light. In an instant the elephants stampeded forward. Toothiana’s animal friends attacked. Toothiana’s mini-selves charged the Monkey King. The monkey army screamed and ran.

The king tried to grab the Toothianas, but he could not catch them. Then all the fairy-sized selves merged back into a single being. Toothiana was mystified by her new power, but she didn’t think on it. With one hand, she grabbed the Monkey King by the throat. It was as if she now had the strength of a dozen. The Monkey King cried out in terror and pain.

For an instant Toothiana felt the rage within her swell. She would snap his neck and be done with him. But the little box glowed in one hand, and the memory of her parents made her stop. She would not end this monkey man’s life. Let the jungle choose his fate.

So she let him go.

He fell to the ground, and she did not look back as she flew up to join the Sisters of Flight.

As they sped away, Toothiana and her kindred could hear the creatures of the jungle do as they saw fit with the fallen Monkey King. And his cries could be heard all the way to the Moon.

Mr. Qwerty then shut his pages. The tale, as it was written, was done.

#rotg tooth #rotg #rise of guardians #guardians of childhood #william joyce

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mybabygirlelsa · 3 years

Text

So I was watching Frozen II the other day and the whole confusion about the voice visited again. Like, who's calling Elsa? Is it Ahtohallan? Her mom? Her own self? Jennifer Lee (I think) said that the voice belongs to Iduna, but that doesn't sit well with me. And then I remembered that I've written my own theory about it, which why not share it with you? 😂

It's probably very inaccurate based on the things we know, but it was really fun to write!

Hope you enjoy!

(A/N: italics are extracts of the book "Frozen II: The Junior Novel")

The Fifth Spirit

Very long ago, in a time no man can recall, humans weren't the dominant species on Earth. There were no rules, yet neither freewill.

Or so it was thought.

People lived under nature's laws -they interacted with it, respected it greatly but mostly feared it. Prophecies about nature's rage were foolishly believed and seriously taken into account.

But it wasn't nature they truly feared -it was its magic.

Humans never succeeded to understand magic -it was considered unreachable. Only a small group of people that repeatedly refused to take part in the "vision of civilization" decided to co- exist with the magical elements and spirits of nature. These people were the first human inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest and the ancestors of the future indigenous Northuldra.

As time went on, people grew more and more arrogant, thought they were capable of everything and gradually stopped believing in nature's power. They began sacrificing and falsely taking advantage of nature's goods. Seeing their audacity getting out of hand, the spirits of air, fire, water and earth sought help from Ahtohallan, the mythical river said to hold all the answers.

The then- small glacier, foreseeing the consequences of people's hauteur, sacrificed a part of herself and sculpted a female figure, with hair and skin as white and pale as freshly fallen snow and eyes as blue as shining ice. With her ancient magic, the glacier gave life to the woman, who was none other than the Fifth Spirit.

According to scanty myths, the woman had achieved great and extraordinary accomplishments in her previous life and the magical river had collected and kept her soul to be used for greater things when the right time would arrive. However, those speculations never came to be confirmed.

Nonetheless, why she was there and why she was chosen, that she never came to know. And a part of her wondered if she ever would.

People's conceit kept growing in an astonishingly fast pace while the Fifth Spirit was given a duty -to connect humans and the magic of nature, as well as protect the only home she would ever know in her existence; the Enchanted Forest.

Apart from her duty, she was also given a power no human had known and no spirit had possessed -the ability to create ice and snow, to control and bring winter. After connecting with the other elements, she was also gifted and given powers to represent all four spirits, such as wings, the ability to strike lightning and control the water, as well as the power to cause earthquakes.

The Fifth Spirit was sent to humans after fully mastering her powers and understanding her purpose. Under the guidance of the unseen deity, people began having faith in nature and underlying yet great respect.

However, this was not an easy task to achieve. It took her almost a hundred years to restore people's faith and trust -but she successfully accomplished it.

Each passing day her power grew significantly, and so did her fondness for her creator. To show her gratitude, she used her unprecedented power and expanded the length and height of her beloved glacier, making Ahtohallan an extension of her powers and mostly, herself.

To honour her child, Ahtohallan assigned to her a new task; she had to visit a chosen woman's dream and recite a poem that would soon be heard from every young Northuldra mother's lips -the lullaby of Ahtohallan. The old glacier also gifted her with a beautiful staff that could summon power and turn into a crystal necklace when unneeded.

Having already mentioned the lullaby, it's important to subjoin the meaning behind a specific lyric -"dive down deep into her sound, but not too far or you'll be drowned". The youthful spirit created a sheer drop that ended to an ice sheet to keep there the utmost truth, for only the most selfless souls would be fearless enough to ignore the warning, as well as brave enough to dive into the abyss. That, if anyone would ever manage to reach the frozen river. For the mighty Water Nokk -who shared a very special bond with the Fifth Spirit- guarded her secrets.

For the very start of her existence -as well as in the meantime of her mission to restore people's faith-, the Fifth Spirit would travel across the Earth to bring winter and joy to the children. She was the very first winter spirit -Jack Frost made his appearance a lot later. Legend has it that she was the Snow Queen the Danish author, Hans Christian Andersen, spoke about in his fairytale. However, unseen as she was, this theory had never had a requisite basis and was never further explained.

As time went on, the forlorn deity was assigned tasks that aimed for specific, chosen people freeing their potential, resulting their lifework to be considered admirable, and almost magical. All spirits had agreed there were and there would be humans that deserved to be known for their own "magic". The Fifth Spirit helped people accomplish dreams and bring visions to life, as she was the only spirit that had the power to transform, painlessly get into one's head to guide and/or give advice and take a human form of any needed age as well as gender when one's achievement was considered of great difficulty. She even had the power to seek a specific ability she didn't possess -which would later on be declared hers- so her efforts could be crowned with success.

She could do anything. There was only one thing she was unable to do; feel.

She was emotionless.

Even her fondness for her mother was taken away after the second century passed. It was thought that if she was given the ability to feel, she would show mercy and compassion and her unlimited patience would spare.

So forsaken she remained. Nameless and isolated, unseen and walked through by people, having to serve her cause on her own, merely meeting with the other spirits on specific occasions.

One of them was on the first day of spring every five years, when everything was blooming, blossoming and growing. A great part of the Enchanted Forest was her deed -she expanded its length and grew more trees, more grass, bloomed more flowers, added more bushes, a small river -where the Earth Giants would be sleeping in the future- that floated into a waterfall which ended at a sheer drop, a pit full of black rocks later known as the Lost Caverns. Because of this, the spirits gave her the appellation "The Reincarnation of Mother Nature" -the only name she was ever given.

For most of her existence -as long as she was waiting for her next task to be handed-, she lived close to her glacier. Away from any kind of life, on her own, in her Ice Palace of memories. She spent so many years close to it, that her fondness returned and she wanted to praise her treasured river.

So she gifted her her voice.

Her act was pure and sincere and played a significant role in the Enchanted Forest's and spirit's future. The iconic and quintessential call would later on be heard, and then, much later, known worldwide as one of the most famous melodies of the Gregorian Chant -the "Dies Irae".

During one of her missions, on the fjord south of the Enchanted Forest, while she was making sure the protector of people, the famous warrior of old, Aren, had achieved his life-changing goal, something changed. Aren was a little bit like her, a protector who served people as his cause. She was protecting the Forest and was serving both nature and humans. Yet a big difference grew the gap between them; he was loved and surrounded by people.

He was feeling.

She wasn't.

Occasionally, she would roam the night skies to witness a life she had never known, to witness how people felt.

And remind herself how she couldn't.

She had been told to distance herself from sunlight, as if she was a single snowflake that would melt when she met with sun's light. She had been told humans were weak, mischievous and unpredictable creatures. She had been told she was greater and superior. Yet she caught herself longing to spend a day warm in the sun, longing to see people dancing...

Longing to feel.

And so she did. Painfully, her as cold and hard as ice heart melted and its first beats sounded like heavy raindrops hitting the dry soil loudly.

She had never felt so alive. She had never... felt.

However, her accidental action required a cost to be paid.

The same, previously mentioned scanty myths, referred to another woman's soul, which had been collected and kept by Ahtohallan. She was certain she would be the one given the great purpose and when she wasn't, her soul never reached the heavens as she swore revenge on the young soul of the Fifth Spirit. Hiding her true intentions, in Ahtohallan's chambers she remained, nurturing the young spirit like mother Ahtohallan did.

Once she learned the youthful deity had broken the laws she had been restrained from ignoring, the resentful soul brought her bitter foe to the Enchanted Forest, secretly from Ahtohallan, and for the first time in forever, she allowed her to feel.

While she burned her.

The Fifth Spirit was set on fire and was obliged to feel her skin melting, like snow on a bright, sunny day. It was unimaginably painful. Her haunting call, that was later on used by a young Northuldra girl, tore the sky apart and meant only one thing;

"Help me".

If it wasn't for Ahtohallan's and Water Nokk's intervention, the Fifth Spirit would have vanished. The evil soul was banished to the Lost Caverns, a place with no way out, where one would be at their lowest emotional point from that day forward. However, before she was sent away, the hateful soul put a curse on the traumatized spirit -when she failed to serve her cause, she would be burned. If the mistreating soul still existed, that no one ever confirmed.

After her adored water horse healed her with the water's curative properties, the Fifth Spirit swore not to feel again, and accepted the prohibition of getting any near the land where the future kingdom of Arendelle would come to be.

Thousands of years passed and the unseen spirit's heart had gotten colder than ice, preventing her from repeating her mistake. Ahtohallan and the other spirits mourned for her, for she was not who she had once been, and made great efforts to change the past's design, intentionally forgetting what had been done was unchangeable.

Despite her change -and most likely because of it-, the Fifth Spirit had dedicated most of her attention to her precious forest. Seeing this, Ahtohallan assigned her the task of looking after a young Northuldra girl, so the deity could be surrounded by her forest.

The Fifth Spirit and the young Northuldra were somehow connected. Iduna, the young Northuldra, would occasionally hear the eerie melody of the spirit, since the deity would "sing to those who hear". The girl would also be seen playing around with Gale, the feisty Wind Spirit. Iduna was connected with nature in an unexplainable way -she was different and destined for great things; she was chosen.

One day, ships arrived at the entrance to the fjord south of the Enchanted Forest -wooden ships full of people who were determined to create a home for themselves near the water. Soon, the kingdom of Arendelle came to be and the Fifth Spirit knew what that meant.

The newcomers were welcomed by the Northuldra's ruler when he met with their king on a cliff as the sun set. The leaders firmly shook hands at this meeting, which was seen by others only in hazy silhouette. Yet the deity saw everything clearly.

To demonstrate their goodwill and friendship, the Arendellians built a mighty dam in the Enchanted Forest. They placed it on the river that flowed into the Arenfjord, the deep blue body of water upon which Arendelle Castle had been built. The dam connected all the lands and made it easier for the Northuldra and their reindeer to roam. King Runeard, the leader of Arendelle, offered it to the Northuldra as a symbol of peace and cooperation between the two groups. But the powerful spirit could see past his facade.

When the dam was complete, the Arendellians threw a great celebration. Northuldra from all over the land gathered at the base of the dam to mingle and feast with the Arendellians. The Fifth Spirit tried to warn the indigenous tribe about the trickery behind the kindness for months but no one listened -they were all busy welcoming and celebrating with the frenemies.

The poor spirit could see how it would all end and attempted to warn young Iduna. But it was too late -the battle had already begun.

Arendelle had turned out to be harmful once again. And as the lush beauty of her beloved forest was being destroyed, as the chaos continued beneath her, she cried, with her plangent call shaking the trees and crumbling the ground.

Her cry echoed as another voice synchronized with it -a pleading for help. Her eyes spotted Iduna holding a young boy in her embrace, as the girl called for help in agony. The Fifth Spirit, overcome with grief of centuries, wailed her eerie melody, mourning for her forest.

As well as for herself.

Her end was near and she was about to meet her tragic fate. She had failed to protect the Forest. She had failed to serve her cause -and the curse continued.

The Wind Spirit heard her call and took the children to safe ground. But it was the only one who listened.

Overcome with rage, the Fifth Spirit cried sorrowfully one last time before a mist, as thick and impenetrable as stone, enveloped the forest, as a promise she would forever guard it from foreigners. Then she disappeared, since people had stopped listening.

However, this was not her end. The Wind Spirit carried the remaining bits of her body to the devastated glacier that grieved over her lost daughter for days, in the meantime causing great parts of herself to collapse. The Water Spirit, overwhelmed with pain as well, told the river about the girl the Fifth Spirit was assigned to look after. Ahtohallan understood the importance of the young Northuldra's deed and finally let the soul of the deity find its new body, knowing she would not return the same.

The Fifth Spirit's soul travelled across the skies and on the Northern Lights above Arendelle it remained, looking after young Iduna, for she was destined to carry in her womb the reincarnation of the lost spirit.

And so, the spirits waited -waited for the Fifth Spirit to be reborn and return to where she belonged.

They waited for her to rise again.

#i know this wouldn't make any sense if it was canon #but well #here we are #i tried 😂#elsa #frozen 2 #frozen headcanons #fifth spirit #my writing

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