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m34gs · 8 months

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Please tell me what sort of Saw trap each house warden in Twisted Wonderland would design if they were the mastermind in a Saw movie.

Hello friend! Well, this is a fun ask! I am actually very excited to get into this, ahahaha. You have no idea how eager I got when I read this ask. I literally went "AHA" and started grinning. I'm going to write each scenario out as if the Housewarden is a Jigsaw Apprentice, and I might even take it a little further and describe what kind of apprentice they would be.

I'm putting a cut, both for length and because these will get a bit graphic. Please see the tags for trigger/content warnings.

Riddle - Riddle is the Rule Boy, By the Book, Stick to the Pattern. The one who adamantly protests every time to the other Saw masterminds "It's not a trap, it's a TEST".

Because of this, Riddle's tests are not overly imaginative, but they get the job done. I think, due to the nature of his signature spell, Riddle would lean toward decapitation being the end result in his traps. It's easy, effective, and doesn't prolong suffering. I like to think he's not one to wish others to suffer. Indeed, if he was a Jigsaw Apprentice, he'd be the one to parrot John Kramer the most about learning to love and cherish the life you have and atoning for past mistakes.

The rules for Riddle's test would be simple. "Find the key to unlock your chains in a certain amount of time, or a saw will cut your head off". Of course, the tricky part is getting the key. No one escapes a Saw trap without some kind of mark, be it visible or invisible. The placement of the key I will leave up to the imagination, as it will have to be specific to the individual in the trap or it will mean nothing. (Keep in mind, canon placements have been: at the other end of the room needing a mad dash that puts co-victims in danger to get to it, in the stomach of a heavily sedated companion in the trap, surgically implanted inside the victim's own eye...etc.). If the victim survives, they are off the hook. Riddle wouldn't dare mess up that part of the game. If they die, he follows John's example and dutifully cuts a puzzle piece out of their flesh, the symbol of that person's "missing piece" that prevented them from winning the game(this is also how Jigsaw got his name).

Leona - Leona can do the job, he understands the assignment. He thinks John's a bit nuts, though. He's another one where there's not a whole lot of imagination involved; he designs the trap to get the job done, makes sure it meets the requirements (because he will not be given a bad grade on Jigsaw Traps, something apparently possible to achieve and normal to worry about?...), but it won't be overly complex, and he makes Ruggie and Jack do the muscle-work for him. Don't worry, he pays them well.

Leona's traps will probably involve some test of strength (keeping in mind the different physical capabilities of individuals, of course). I'm thinking something like a low tunnel filled with various-sized shards of broken glass the person has to crawl through to get to the exit, or climbing through a vent connected to an oven that is on max. heat to get out. Something like that, of course tweaked for the individual.

He makes Ruggie cut the puzzle piece. Ruggie doesn't mess around when it comes to his finances. He cuts every piece perfectly.

Azul - Let's be real, Azul doesn't mind suffering...as long as it's not his own. His traps are always complex, and he sees each new victim as a chance to one-up himself. And it's no problem getting his victims; Jade and Floyd help with that.

I think most of Azul's traps will involve the victim inflicting pain on themselves on purpose. Not just doing things that result in pain (such as crawl over glass) but actively cause themselves harm; probably ripping their own molars out or cutting off a limb, or something, and dropping it in a bin/chute to trigger the exit to open.

Jade and Floyd help with set-up...but Floyd is Not allowed to cut the puzzle pieces afterward. For obvious reasons.

Kalim - In order for Kalim to be an apprentice, he would need to have something awful and drastic happen to someone close to him that pushes him over the edge. When it comes to it, he sees the traps as a job, a duty. It's not something he enjoys and he always observes with a tired distaste but, because of whatever trauma pushed him into this life, he believes it's necessary.

He can't stand the sight of blood and brutality. Nor does he want to know they're dying a slow death. His victim is hooked up to a syringe pump, hands restrained, and they need to figure out the code to turn off the pump before time runs out (probably voice password or something; definitely based on important memories related to the reason they are in the trap, which is hinted at in the tape) or the syringe will rapidly infuse a lethal dose of potassium into their veins and they will go into cardiac arrest.

Jamil has to cut the puzzle piece because Kalim cannot stomach it.

Vil - Vil, like Kalim, needs to be of the mind that what he's doing is necessary, even if he doesn't like it. He has to believe that people need him to teach them in this way, or he won't be able to stomach it.

He also doesn't want a bloodbath; that's not his style. Vil would rather use poison. Poison for his victims, already injected/ingested, with an antidote they have to get...probably behind a locked door needing a combination password. But, in order to get the code, they will have to face what they've done and figure out what the code is, very similar to Kalim's style. However, unlike Kalim's, if the victim gives the wrong code the door will seal shut forever and the victim will be doomed. They need to get it right and they need to be certain.

Vil may request Rook's assistance with making sure people are brought in and the trap set up properly, but he cuts the puzzle piece himself. He believes it's his role, and he refuses to put that onto anyone else. It disgusts him, but he treats it like his cross to bear for the acts he is committing, because a part of him still feels uneasy about all of this and he hates looking at himself in the mirror some days.

Idia - Idia is so removed from the front lines of the traps, he's actually quite desensitized to the violence. He treats it a bit like his video games and he does try out a variety of different traps, each one extremely individualized. He's got all the info on his victims; every single trace of them online, their social security number, their bank statements, anything and everything that can be accessed via computer is his. He knows them inside and out. Every trap is an attempt to be more unique and "entertaining" than the last. It's questionable if he's even in it for the "righteousness" that John preaches, or if he got bored and decided this was an interesting way to pass the time.

All his traps are set up to run completely independently, and all are under video surveillance. I think Idia would get to the point that there's not enough moving parts for him if there's only one victim in the trap, so he starts doing bigger traps, with groups of people, where it's a challenge to try and predict how they all will react, how they would push each other's boundaries and if they would try to see the hints laid out for them or if they would misinterpret it (for anyone who's seen Jigsaw, think about the gun scene with the keys at the end. That kind of a hint. Idia would like to see who gets it). So, yeah, Idia probably builds a maze-trap with multiple little traps within it that the victims have to go through to get out.

While he hasn't yet created something that can cut the puzzle piece and deliver it to him, he has developed a little punch that he can bring to punch out the piece of the victim's flesh should they fail. It's the only time he's on-site after the trap has been set. (Ortho refused to do that part because the dead bodies made him sad.)

Malleus - Malleus believes he is helping people, and he's curious to see how far a person would go to save their own life. He thinks it's his job to bring out the worst and the best in the person in his trap to help them be better than they are now. He's not beyond pushing buttons and upping antes; he sees it as doing what he can to help someone value their life and overcome their own shortcomings.

A trap from Malleus is probably going to involve some form of self-mutilation, giving enough flesh or giving enough blood, but also some emotional pressure. He will bring their families into the traps; likely remotely so as not to harm the innocent, but to use as leverage to make someone push themselves more. He wants them to succeed. But he will not go easy on them. In order to succeed, they need to pull on their own inner strength.

He cuts the puzzle piece himself, but he's always sad when he has to. He feels less that the person has failed and more that he has failed to help them bring out their better self.

Thank you again for the ask, friend! I hope I answered to your satisfaction :D If you have any questions or comments to add, please let me know, I am always happy to expand on these kinds of things!

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lexart-io · 2 months

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Hello! I am a traditional and digital artist, and I see you post a lot of images and works that have been generated through ai, and consider yourself a part of the art community here on the internet.

--Prefacing with the fact that I dont want to debate and am not here with the purpose of gatekeeping the art community. This is purely for my own curiosity, and understanding all sides of the Ai argument.--

I mean nothing judgemental or malicious by asking, although I do acknowledge it may sound that way by the nature of my asking. As someone who plans to pursue my own artworks made traditionally and digitally on software (like procreate) for a living, the questions I have to ask are:

- What do you gain or learn from creating images with Ai? what do you take away from it?

- What meaning do you find in creating those images? What do you want to say with it?

- In what way do you find yourself an artist? What are the unique skills that you have because of this method of image creation?

Thanks for your time and consideration in this, and Thank you for sticking around to read all of that. (I acknowledge that its a bit of a wall of text)

hello! no worries, i don't think your questions come off as judgmental or malicious at all, and i'm always more than happy to offer my thoughts / perspective on this topic to anyone who inquires. i think there's A LOT to be said on it, so hopefully my own incoming massive wall of text isn't too much haha.

i'm going to answer your questions in a slightly different order than you asked because i think it will help the overall flow of my explanations:

In what way do you find yourself an artist? i have a lifelong background in art. in high school and college, acrylic paint on canvas was my primary medium. also, i first downloaded Photoshop when i was 13 years old and started teaching myself to use it so i could create forum "signatures" for people on a gaming forum that i frequented at the time haha. in high school, i nearly maxed out the number of art classes i took and won a Scholastic Gold Key art award (the highest regional award) for a digital piece i made in one of my art classes. the other form of "art" that i've always been passionate about is computer programming. i started when i was 12 years old (with Visual Basic 3, which i taught myself) and continue to take on programming projects as a hobby to this day. currently i have over 10 years of (ongoing) professional graphic design experience, both freelance and in marketing director roles.

What do you gain or learn from creating images with Ai? what do you take away from it? my interest with AI began not from an artistic motivation, but rather from a nerdy computer programming motivation. working with AI is wildly fascinating and fun. it's an odd mix of creative outlets (visual, verbal, programming), which exercises a creative spot within my brain that i never even knew existed. click here to check out my previous post where i describe my workflow with ai. i'm not just typing prompts into a box and hitting generate. to me, that isn't creative enough and i don't really find the results to be all that interesting (though there are a few prompt-artists whom i find their work to be extraordinary, for the most part that whole direction is kinda boring in my opinion). i train ai models myself, often on really obscure or abstracted ideas / concepts / aesthetics. then i use those models to combine these unrelated concepts, rendering a batch of images which i use as a dataset to train a new model, which i then use to repeat this process ad infinitum (so my work is a constant evolution built upon everything preceding it). the work that i post here are my daily experiments, as i test out models and combine ideas. so what i gain from this is a deeper understanding of how machine learning tech works, a means of keeping up with generative ai technology as it continues to quickly advance, how to visually train ai models on concepts that are increasingly detached from visual reality, and (most importantly) a creative workflow that really, truly vibes with my soul's deepest passions. it's hard to really describe that last one... but you know that feeling you get as you're actively exercising your creative impulses on a medium that really connects with you on a deeper level? training ai, as nerdy as this sounds, is that for me. the "art" is not necessarily in the images themselves, but in the act of training ai models (because the process of training ai is not a standardized thing whatsoever, there are hundreds of settings and variables at play and every single person has their own methods which generally evolve with experience) and how you interact with these models on a verbal level (through text prompting) to render your imagination.

What meaning do you find in creating those images? What do you want to say with it? honestly, i think a lot of the "ai art" scene is made up of "delusional artists" who think whatever they generate from a basic text prompt is somehow deep and meaningful art haha. but that said, i do stand firm in my belief that even THAT is by definition still "art". there is human creative impulse behind it. ai is the tool and the human is the user of said tool. this particular tool can make creating things very easy, but at the end of the day it does still require some level of creative human input to do anything. as with any artistic tool or medium, i think that what you get out of it depends entirely upon what you put into it. more effort and time = more quality and meaning. text prompting for ai generated images is sort of the most "superficial" layer of the "ai art" scene. the phenomenon of delusional artists exists across ALL forms of art, so it's not just unique to ai. it seems like there is a large percentage of the population who, upon starting to learn a new creative outlet, have an overly grandiose view of their own work after they first start making things. they're so proud of what they created that it blinds them from seeing it for what it really is. they'll gloat about it online, they'll try to sell it for outrageous prices, etc and look super cringy in the process. some people eventually grow out of that and suddenly gain the self-awareness that "oh shit actually that art kinda sucked and i looked super inexperienced", but other times they never realize that and stay cringy. because ai art is so new and so many folks are just now jumping on, i think we're seeing a much higher percentage of this delusional artist phenomenon within this field at the moment, where everyone is so proud of what they're making and not realizing how lame it actually looks to people who know what they're doing. and, again for the record, i do still consider that stuff to be art (and so i mean no offense to anyone when i say these things). it's just really basic art, and i think most people will either grow past this phase (and learn to take these tools a lot deeper) or lose interest in it altogether - just as they do with other artistic endeavors like painting, ceramics, using Photoshop, making music in Ableton, etc, etc. i would classify 99% of my work as under the "concept art" category. it exists as a result of my daily experiments as i learn / discover my way deeper and deeper into machine learning technology. it generally explores scifi themes (robotics in particular) because i find that to be most creatively titillating, but it is not necessarily meant to convey any deeper meaning beyond purely imaginative visual pursuits that look toward the future. which is also why i don't sell my work or push the idea of it being profound in anyway. it's just daily exercise, but i absolutely love that so many other people enjoy looking at it (i'm somehow up to nearly 9000 followers here, which is kinda mind-blowing to me). i've been putting nearly every single spare hour of every single day for the last several years into this so it really means a lot to not only see my skillset improving over time, but to also gain such an audience for it in the process too. 🙏😭

What are the unique skills that you have because of this method of image creation? for me, the WHOLE point of all of this is knowledge and experience working with generative ai tools. this technology exists now and it won't be going away. the genie is out of the bottle, so to speak. i think absolutely any artist (but digital artists in particular) would only be doing themselves a tremendous disservice by not learning to use this tool immediately. being a stick in the mud about it is not going to stop this technology, nor will it save you in 10 years from getting let go at your job and replaced by some younger artist who learned this technology while getting a degree in graphic design and can pump out quality assets 100x faster than you ever could. don't wait until then to start learning this stuff because you will already be sooo far behind at that point. get involved right now, right this second; you will be on the ground floor of an incredible technology and able to keep up with the advancements as they happen, putting you in a much stronger position in the future. don't take it too seriously, just do it for fun and then thank yourself in 10 years when you're 100x more experienced than the younger artist who recently graduated with a graphic design degree. i recently met a graphic designer who somehow never learned to use Photoshop. they do everything the "old school" way - literally cutting, pasting, and drawing things by hand. that was fine 30+ years ago, but now they cannot get hired anywhere. they put off learning Photoshop for so long because they assumed that their excellent skills and truly beautiful eye for design would be enough to carry their career forward forever, without needing to keep up with the technical advancements. but in the modern world, no business wants a designer like that anymore; having strong Photoshop experience is a bare minimum. old school designers who did not keep up were ultimately pushed out entirely. in 10, 20, or even 30 years from now, you don't want to be that old person taking night classes at the local university to try to save your career. get ahead of it, jump on board and invest in your future! i truly believe that you will start to discover creative new ways to integrate it into your current workflow and you will become a stronger (and more marketable) artist in the process. :)

sorry for the huge post and hopefully everything makes sense lmao. feel free to reach out with more questions any time. particularly if you want help getting started in the realm of ai-assisted art and design. i'm always more than happy to help!

#stable diffusion #photoshop #digital art #ai #artificial intelligence #generative art #ai art #synthography #ask

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mar-the-magician · 2 years

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Redacted Asmr Fashion Headcanons!

Both Ash and Gavin view developing a personal style as a matter of self-care (I'm totally not projecting right now) but in very different ways. Ash is a thrift store GOD. He knows where to find all the best-stocked stores and he knows all the methods for making sure you do not miss out on a single styling piece that has potential. While Ash stocks up on basics that mix and match fantastically, Gavin is more of a statement pieces kind of fellow. His wardrobe is full of glitter, sequins, thigh-high socks, platform boots, and bright colors. Don’t get me wrong, he DOES have his basics… in the very back of the closet. Only to be used when absolutely necessary. XD His go-to "casual" outfit is a pair of neon pink leggings and a MASSIVE oversized t-shirt that slips off both shoulders and goes down to his knees. Not exactly fashion related, but whatever it my post I can do what I want— Gavin is and absolute chapstick and lipgloss ADDICT. He has a specific, almost-clear, peachy pink-tinged, all natural (yes he is THAT bitch) not-tested-on-animals lipgloss that he wears virtually every day. He puts chapstick on every night before bed and has an entire bin of all his different flavors, colors, etc of chapstick. He would 100% wear a choker with a bell on it and clip on cat ears solely for the purpose of flustering someone and/or creeping them out. Two piercings in each earlobe, generally just wears hoops or little rings if he’s feeling more boring.

Asher isn't quite as out there as Gavin, but he also thinks that if anybody is going to judge him for his fashion choices they can just fuck right off. He loves layering— vests, halters, overalls, biker jackets, belts, corset tops and micro mini skirts over pants when he's feeling more adventurous, leg warmers, body chains and fingerless gloves are his Thing. He takes inspiration from a LOOOT of different aesthetics and it really just depends on his mood— alt, cottagecore, goblincore, 80s, light academia, romantic academia, aaaaalllll that good stuff. His favorite casual outfits would consist of smol t-shirts that say something about him (band t-shirt, show merch, etc) paired with baggy jeans, maybe with some patches or rips. Asher. Adores. Jewelry. You KNOW this man owns fifty thousand rings!!! He’s always wearing at LEAST two rings. He often wears those little netting black chokers and owns like three different pop tab necklaces, at least one of which is homemade. Speaking of, he’ll often make his own stuff! He can’t sew, but he’ll hack the sleeves off of a jacket or crop some jeans into shorts no hesitation, and is always painting designs on plain t-shirts and making jewelry out of discarded trash or unwanted beads. He and Milo went to get their ears pierced together when they were both teens. They both like studs the most, but while Milo generally sticks to round black or small silver studs, occasionally mixing it up with some tiny gold or silver rings, Ash has a whole collection of funky studs. Hello Kitties, pokéballs, little fried eggs, lemons, little puppy footprints, moons in all phases, stars, all manner of fruit, tiny sushi’s, tiny pizza slices, metallic strawberries, fuckin mermaids, nothing is too wacky for this man. Baabe gets him a new pair every chance they get.

Milo likes fashion but feels like the community is too competitive and unwelcoming to really get into it. He’ll often tag along to Asher and Baabe's thrift store trips, but he generally just ends up getting… ANOTHER denim or leather jacket. Yeah, this man owns a LOT of denim and leather jackets. He also has a massive, ever-growing collection of enamel pins with which to abuse said jackets. He owns a trench coat solely because it makes him look more intimidating on jobs, according to him. Milo CAN sew, and will embroider little embellishments on the cuffs of his jeans and the collars of his shirts 🥰. He does it to calm himself sometimes, and what it ends up being often completely depends on his mood and what media he’s consumed recently. He has jeans with spiders on the hem, with little howling wolves, with times trees, with bats, with daisies, with paw prints, with stars, even ones with little hearts. It annoys the shit out of him when Asher asks him to modify his clothes "I'm not ya personal tailor, Ash!!" but he’ll do it anyway, with enough weedling. His favorite casual outfit is just an old college tee, a Melanie Martinez shirt, or a Shaw Security shirt paired with a comfy old worn-out pair of jeans that he embroidered LITERALLY all over with whatever he was thinking of at the time.

David really doesn’t care about "fashion" per se, but he likes to feel put together. He generally wears polo shirts and nice jeans on a casual day, a button up and nice slacks on a more formal day, and will add a tie or even a blazer on the most formal of events. The only time Angel approves of his fashion is when he wears flannels with the sleeves rolled up in the fall and winter. 😏

WOW THAT WAS LONG so if anybody wants a part two with the rest of the D.A.M.N boys, Vincent, Sam, Camilopardalis, and maybe William, please let me know!

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temple-of-truth · 10 months

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Temple of Truth Episode 4#2 (492, but all undesirable numbers are ohm-itted) Transcript

Saturday, June 23rd, 2063

Hello, Truthers of Night City! Thanks for tuning into Temple of Truth, whether it’s your first time or the last time. Today’s episode is a big one, but before we dive into that, let’s get through the weekly report.

In case some of you all haven’t been outside, it’s been extra hot this week with the start of summer. The moon’s in waning crescent, and the highest Zodiac constellation is now Cancer, if we could see it. Residents of Heywood have been complaining about blown fuses up and down the streets—which of course we’re supposed to believe is just the heat. And, finally, today’s Truest Truther is Kathy from Rancho Coronado, who called in last week with some truly brilliant observations about her neighbors’ new satellite dishes. We thank you for your viewership and vigilance, Kathy, and we hope your son’s baseball game goes well.

Now, onto the big news. The huge news. This was so exciting that I almost did a special episode yesterday, but I figured it would be better to plan things out. Oh, I don’t even know how to start with this. My brother Ohm and I—if you don’t know who Ohm is, she’s really the brains behind the whole show. I’d never be able to get all this gear set up without her. Anyway, Ohm and I were out doing some investigative work. It wasn’t for our core mission, but we had met some cool new friends, and anyway, all truth is the truth, as we always say. I’ll keep the details to myself for the sake of a few people’s privacy, but Ohm and I ran into a real, actual, confirmed agent of the Sisters. It was… it was life-changing. To be there in his presence, I mean, I could feel his power and benevolence washing over me.

We knew he was alien from the moment we met him, and we had a good sense about him. But our suspicions were confirmed when he started talking about how he used to travel through space but had been staying on Earth for a while. I mean, this is exactly the kind of trajectory that we thought these agents of the Sisters would have. He was speaking to us in coded, indirect language: he told us he wasn’t an alien because it was clear that, for whatever reason, he had to keep his identity a secret. Ohm and I picked up on this, so we stayed extremely subtle and clandestine. No one suspected a thing, which is what the agent likely wanted.

He also mentioned an organization called the “Green Thumbs” which runs community gardens. Since yesterday, I’ve done some research into them. On the surface, they’re a community group that uses the few fertile spaces around the city to grow vegetables to improve nutrition. But if you look closer like I did and start to connect the dots on the map, the locations of the gardens form a flower-like shape—just like the Pleiades. Ohm and I need to do more research and testing to figure out whether this is only a symbolic choice on the part of these Green Thumbs or if it has a functional purpose, maybe for communication or even transport. As always, if any of you listeners have any tips or theories, we’d love to have you call in during Truth Time on our show tomorrow. I’ll also be sending out copies of the marked-up maps of the Green Thumbs gardens through our various channels.

Another major revelation from this agent of the Sisters is that the Trauma Team is good. The agent said that he appreciates what they do. We’ve been looking into the Trauma Team for quite a while, and as many of you know, the Trauma Team being good appears like it would disprove many of our theories. But this is actually a hugely helpful piece of information because we’re now closer to the Truth. Every step, even backwards ones, is a step in the true direction.

And finally, a bit of a teaser for our next news episode: earlier this week, Ohm and I met a real vampire. We’re working with her to come on the show for an interview. That was actually our original plan for this episode, but obviously the encounter with the agent was urgent news.

Alright, that’ll wrap it up for this episode. It’s a bit of a short one because Ohm and I have got to head off to an event tonight. But I hope it was an exciting one for all you Truthers out there listening. It’s hard to describe how important meeting a real agent of the Sisters is to getting closer to the Truth, but I’m sure all of you listeners understand.

Thank you for tuning into the Temple of Truth. If you want to be the Truest Truther for the next episode, make sure to either call in tomorrow or send your theories through our virtual channels. Good night, and remember to keep your ears open and your eyes on the stars.

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cheegu3 · 3 years

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Hello can you write a yandere red square gang from squid game x fem reader where reader lost a game and the square gang punishes her

a/n: ty for requesting this was fun to write, I hope u liked it :)

TW / trigger warning: yandere themes, abuse, threats, violence, mentions of drugging, gunshots, death, swearing, blood, etc!!

Wc: 1.4k

Pairing: fem reader x red square guards

~ Yandere red square gang scenario - they punish you because you lost a game ~

They had placed you in the corner for a reason, so they could discreetly keep watch over you during the dalgona game. It was so simple, how could you even fuck up?

At first you felt relieved since you had made such cookies a lot during your childhood, you also had picked a relatively easy shape - a circle. So, it wasn’t that, that made you lose - it was them. Their eyes on you, prying constantly. Even though you technically couldn’t see their eyes you just knew you were being watched and you felt it.

It was so obvious too, why did no one see how a guard pushed a player into the very back corner to then stand there in front, not moving throughout the whole game? You suppose everyone was too occupied with themselves and the possibility of death if they failed the game, you however thought you had a much bigger threat. The guards were a nightmare and you’d much prefer death over their creepy obsession.

It had started after that one time you felt like you were going to wet yourself. You had run up to the door, screaming and begging to be let out to the bathroom. The circle masked guy had just stood there and done nothing but when a square masked one came into view through the door’s window, he told the other one to let you out.

You should’ve realised the small things, creepy things that showed the start of their obsession. Why did they give you a bit more food than everyone else? Why were they always so many of them whenever you specifically had to go to the bathroom but no one else? But, those were unfortunately insignificant compared to when it all became more obvious to you, the point where your mind could no longer try to come up with a rational explanation for their behaviour.

It was basically kidnapping, the way they had drugged your food for you to wake up in an entirely different place. You thought just like what the other players had been told - that you were just sick, had fainted and that it was nothing serious.

But the more your eyes wandered the less sense it made. They were tons of them there, all square masked ones. You were laying on a bare steel table and it seemed to be underground since it had no windows or anything. Spotting a few scalpels, you heart started to beat wildly - are they going to kill me?

They had sent you back that night as to not raise any suspicion. Before that, they had told you - as they all took of their masks, that you are forbidden from telling anyone about it or they’ll kill your family.

Them bringing you there along with you piecing everything else together, you got it. They didn’t even have to say it and you didn’t know why. Why you - out of everyone, why you?

They let you go and well now, you’re here. With a cookie in one hand and a needle in the other. You thought a moment about letting the time run out on purpose but you were also scared of testing them, not sure what they’d do if you did.

It wasn’t like you had a choice now though. All the daydreaming and dazing off had made you unfocused and your hand must’ve been unsteady, for as you heard the guard curse under his breath you looked down to discover that you had broken it.

For a moment, silence and uncertainty hung between you before the guard jumped into action - snatching your cookie away from you and forcefully pushing it up to your lips. You opened your mouth hesitantly with tears already forming in your hopeless eyes.

‘’ Stupid girl, did you really think you could escape us? ‘’ the guard had crouched when he had taken the cookie away from you and was now painfully close, whispering into your ear.

Trying to hold in the tears you watched as he stood up again. The gunshots ringing through the air still made you flinch. Some people weren’t fazed by them anymore and you couldn’t quite understand how. Every time that sound was heard cutting through the unbearable silence - a life was just ended and what if it was one of your friends? You’d never find out until the end of the games.

Body after body fell to the floor and the clock was getting closer and closer. Ten seconds now. You tried to see behind the guard blocking your view, not sure why he was still standing there but he made it impossible to see anyone right in front. Thankfully you could see a bit on the sides and you sighed in relief when you spotted the familiar face of your friend sitting there. She looked relaxed as she sat crosslegged and looked around the room, so she had clearly made it.

The shrill sound of the clock rang, signalling the end of the round which gave some relief and to the distressed looking players left it only gave a feeling of defeat. You closed your eyes just in time before several gunshots blasted at the same time.

The time came when all the players stood up, you as well - casting angry eyes at the guard who only chuckled before stepping to the side. You joined the others, hugging your friend and walking down to the sleeping chambers.

Well in bed you closed your eyes comfortably, not expecting anything. If there was something about the guards that you were yet to know it was that - they were unpredictable.

It was strange, how dizzy you felt and how quickly you fell asleep compared to everyone else. Laying there you thoughts darted back to the dinner you had had after returning from the game. How they had looked at each other after handing you your food and how they stayed extra long, just making sure you ate before they left. You had yet again been stupid and not noticed the signs and now it was gonna cost you.

It wasn’t long before you could no longer fight back the inevitable sleepiness that was dragging you down, you submitted in the end and the next time you opened your eyes - you were in that room again.

Fuck

This time they might actually kill me

They seemed to have something else in mind. If you lifted your head a little you’d spot the various tools laying on display, ones that would be used on you not long after.

‘‘ Y/n ‘‘ one of them spoke, the deep voice distortion never failing to send chills down your spine.

You looked at who had said it and waited anxiously.

‘‘ I’m sure you know why you’re here ‘‘

‘‘ No ‘‘ your voice sounded shaky and weak.

‘‘ We need to punish you ‘‘

‘‘ W-why? ‘‘

He sighed deeply annoyed and a few others chuckled.

‘‘ You lost the game ‘‘

You didn’t dare to say anything. To say you didn’t understand was an understatement - you wanted to be dead right now and the fact that he seemed to find this amusing was infuriating.

You jumped as you felt someone’s hand snake up your arm all the way up to your throat. It rested there tauntingly as you began to breathe with more difficulty. He allowed you to breathe but it felt like he was choking you.

‘‘ Do you know- ‘‘ his hand carefully began to wrap itself around while applying a bit of pressure ‘‘-what we have to go through to ensure you make it out alive ‘‘.

Not actually sure if your voice would fail you, you kept quiet except for involuntary whimpers escaping from your closed mouth here and there. You were terrified.

‘‘ You fucked up today, and now you’re gonna pay ‘‘ one of them said.

You weren’t quite sure who said it because all you could do was focus on the panic overtaking your entire body.

‘‘ This lesson will make you a good girl again. Next time you know not to disappoint us ‘‘

You didn’t see it but you felt the first cold metal item run over your skin and you could do nothing but scream as it plunged into you, followed by sadistic and amused smiles that you couldn’t see behind those masks.

You screamed and screamed until it felt like your lungs were burning but no one was coming to save you. You were, all alone.

#yandere #yandere squid game #squid game #squid game guard

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tofumedic · 3 years

Text

Solomon Crushing HCs!

(MC is gender neutral!)

summary: a mix of hcs and small paragraphs about Solomon being tested about how much affection he can take before his composed disposition breaks!

It actually takes very little from you to ruffle up poor Solomon's feathers

A gentle touch or squeeze to his shoulder while you're not wearing any kind of glove, even if its over his robes or uniform his blush settles in

However, to get such a soft reaction from your companion it would have to happen alone or if you aren't feeling the best. if it happens in front of the brothers it helps boost his confidence before he shortens the affection not wanting to get hurt by your 7 demonic bodyguards

Solomon's hands are pressed into the flat of your back and against the nape of your neck, supporting your posture of you folding your body into his. He's leaning a bit down only by lowering his face to check your breathing, his ear close to yours and yours to his, letting you also hear his own for however it may ground you.

The way he holds you is protective by every right, the hand on your back is spread as far as each of his digits can reach and pushing slightly into you instead of just acting as a shell, reminding you he is actually there and that you can feel as much as his presence as possible. The hand against the back of your neck is more gentle to the sensitive bone underneath, not pressing but covering as much as it can, slightly upwards to start to cup the bottom of your hairline as well so you don't strain your neck too far.

He almost feels quite guilty, reveling in you picking him for comfort having to be pushed to be thoughts he remembers so he can currently focus on keeping you grounded, calm. You had left and came to him in Purgatory Hall, purposely leaving possible comfort from the brothers to seek out his specifically. It was an honor, you wanting to be held by him, wanting his warmth to protect you from whatever snapped the final thread keeping you together for the day. It wasn't completely necessary, he would have come as immediate as he could've if you had asked but it did make the slow process of moving you to sit on the edge of his bed quite easier as he presses gentle kisses against your hair, certain you'll forget about them the next day.

He enjoys sharing things with you, always confident and composed when he is the one to initiate, yet when you do it he needs a few seconds of hesitation to restart his internal systems.

He further enjoys showing off whatever you two share, maybe a new set of matching keychains or a necklace. Certain brothers more outwardly jealous than their counterparts call him out for being arrogant yet are too busy to recognize the softness in his eyes of having a piece of you with him.

You had woken up from your small nap with all of the gross qualities of crying before the rest, rubbing your eyes and needing to seek out something for your nose. But in the slowness of waking up and further coming to your senses on where you were, you recognize the room style and suddenly it clicks back.

Going to Solomon, wanting his specific hold and no other as it wouldn't be the same as the texture of his clothes pressing into yours or the same density of muscle holding together the pieces of you threatening to break. No one would keep you whole the same way so you had sought him out, now only being left alone in his room with his robe at the end of the bed and the door slightly open to show his leave is quick.

The robe was free real-estate at that point for you to settle into like a child's sleeping bag as you cocoon, wrapping it around yourself and holding it tightly wrapped from holding it on the inside. Like it was programmed to recognize being stolen, Solomon just peeked into the crack in the door with some water in hand not wanting the door to creek if you were still resting.

Yet there you were, resettling into his bed in his robe in his blankets. His face was lit up as if painted in the pink as he speaks up.

"I'm back. Ah, were you waiting for me to show up?"

He's embarrassed, his face is blotchy and after he takes a step in and closes the door goes to rub at this face as if trying to scratch it away. He didn't expect you to actually put on his robe and cuddle into it like that, don't get him twisted he did put it there just in case you did wake up and he wasn't there, he just clearly was not mentally prepared for the image.

Something he can't handle is your pleased smile with the similar glint that reached your eyes to be directed at him alone, especially when it was still sleep ridden and clearly extremely comfortable.

"Just kidding, don't look at me like that I'll get the wrong idea."

Solomon has this thing about making plans with you, or making plans for you

He will plan out every time he gets to see you, trying to have words ready for what he will want to say. He plans out walking with you to classes, to lunch, to inviting you out places just to imagine how it will go after you say yes.

Even if it doesn't go exactly to plan since you tend not to follow his, always so full of surprises, he doesn't get upset by any means if you're the cause

Especially when it's something subtle, you reaching out to pat him if he's busy in a conversation wanting to give a quick hello, or you possibly being on of those who like to lean into others when they laugh

Stuff like that sends him out of wack, he builds off of what energy you give him like any calm response he had to welcome you back with gets replaced with something more genuine as you rush over, having caught his gaze with a grin when you found him

You unwrapped your robe burrito of sorts, your arms outstretched and waiting. His footsteps stuttered looking at your changed position beckoning him to look at your face to make sure he wasn't misunderstanding. His blush had yet to disappear as he chuckled, setting your two glasses on the small bedside table.

You are the first person he lets himself be so genuine with for a long time, something about you other than your abilities is just so special.

He's missed this, such a feeling of genuine love that fills him completely that he feels connected to every part of his body, that no space is empty yet instead inflated pumped full of pure bliss. It is hard to remember if the last time he felt something like this if it's true or was just a bad copy because this and you feel so unique and new and fresh

Solomon is full of love in a way he didn't know was truly possible, it was true and genuine and you two shared it.

He settles into your side, arms caging your middle and yours in turn wrap around him to further press him closer, and he gives a pleased hum. It was strange and perhaps narcissistic but this felt like you had turned to comforting him instead compared to him comforting you earlier, though he understood this probably helped you too he couldn't help but to feel special like that.

Maybe this wasn't a misunderstanding on his part, maybe it was alright to test the waters, this theory.

"I just can't help but to think you might like me too, no?"

#someone stop me from using dialog from homescreen interactions and right actual speech oh my gof #i cant believe i was able to write something like this??????#obey me #tofus blurbs!#obey me solomon #om solomon #solomon x mc #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #solomon x reader #solomon imagine #me: aw yeah im scheduling this for tomorrow its gonna be so good #me less than 10 mins later: I WANT PPL TO SEE IT N O W

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all-hail-the-witcher · 3 years

Note

hello u said we could come here for AP test advice umm I’m concerned about my DBQ and LEQ this Thursday do u have any advice? mostly for structuring tbh, like should I be shooting for 3 body paragraphs? thank u, u are epic :]

HOW TO WRITE A DBQ

1. Skim All The Documents

that sounds dumb, but its for sure the best place to start. take a highlighter or a pen and underline a few important pieces of text in the written docs. you don't have to read them thoroughly, just look at them enough so that you know what they are talking about. next to each document write down a few words describing the main idea/argument. it is also a good idea to write down which piece of HIPP (historical context, intended audience, purpose and point of view) you're going to do for which document next to that doc so you don't forget when you are writing the essay

2. Group Your Documents

this will determine how many body paragraphs you need. if you find that your documents only fall into two separate groups, only have two body paragraphs. if they fall into three groups, make 3 body paragraphs.\

3. Figure Out Your Thesis Statement

based on how you grouped your documents, write a thesis statement. the thesis statement should answer the question.

4. Write Your Introduction

with most ap dbqs, the question will pertain to one theme, such as the economy, or migration, or whatever. your introduction should contain literally as much information as you can possibly remember about the other themes from that same time period and end with your thesis statement. so for example if my essay question was on the economy during the industrial revolution i would include in my intro paragraph things about immigration influxes, culture clashes, how america was interacting with the rest of the world, etc. think of it as the opening crawl in the star wars movies: you need to know all the other stuff that was happening as background info before you can get to the thing that you're talking about. this is your contextualization point. your thesis statement should be at the end of this paragraph. the intro paragraph in whole should be at least half a page long.

5. Write Your Body Paragraphs

based on how you group your documents you should have 2 or 3 body paragraphs. these should be at least a page long. remember to use HIPP and to contextualize as much as possible. when i wrote dbqs i threw in every last piece of outside information that wasnt in the documents as I could remember. make sure that if theres a written doc that you are quoting from it directly at least once and either introduce the document by saying “In Document 1 by ____” or putting it in parentheses at the end of your cite/reference/allusion (Doc 1). USE ALL THE DOCUMENTS!! that way if you misinterpret one, you won't get points off.

6. Write Your Conclusion

a conclusion does not have to be long. if you run out of time, it can be literally one sentence. your conclusion should summarize your argument and essentially restate your thesis. if you want, this is where you connect to a different time period.

HOW TO WRITE AN LEQ

1. Figure Out What Kind Of Question It Is

all leqs are either change and continuity over time, compare contrast, causation, or periodization. depending on which kind of question you get, take 5 minutes to plan for it. come up with 2 or 3 really solid pieces of evidence that you can reference for each.

2. Map Your Essay

depending on the question you have, figure out how many paragraphs you need. for change and continuity over time and compare contrast id do two paragraphs: one for the changes/ comparisons and one for the continuities/ contrasts. for causation and periodization you can do either 2 or 3 body paragraphs, depending on how many examples you have come up with.

3. Write Your Thesis

your thesis should directly reflect the question. if it were a change and continuity question your thesis should address that x y and z were the changes and a b and c were the continuities. the same goes for the other kinds of questions.

4. Write Your Introduction

essentially the same as your dbq intro. include as much background as you can remember from the other themes as possible. think of the star wars crawl. aim for around half a page. put your thesis statement at the end.

5. Write Your Body Paragraphs

write your two or three body paragraphs. they should be around a page long. include as many examples as you can think of in as much detail as possible. now is not the time to be vague. ensure that your body paragraphs answer the question posed in your thesis. (ex. address that x y and z are the continuities because blah blah and blah etc)

6. Write Your Conclusion

same as the dbq conclusion. does not have to be long, but try to make it at least a sentence. It should restate your thesis and explain why (why are these the changes, why are these the continuities). now is also the time to connect to another time period if you want.

#apush #ap world #ap world history #ap euro #professor saph

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace.

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy.

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it.

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.”

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.”

You smile. “Lovely.”

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.

-=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality.

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.”

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home.

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare.

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement.

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors.

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.”

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot.

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away.

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle.

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder.

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.”

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.”

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat.

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind.

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile.

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll.

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak.

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement.

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses.

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short.

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more.

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains.

“You��re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself.

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist. Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes.

Fuck yeah.

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock.

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh.

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge.

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.”

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation.

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.”

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark.

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now.

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs.

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question.

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command.

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff.

Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight.

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you.

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.”

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.”

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.”

There we go.

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes.

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness.

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile.

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep.

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#well yall im #bucket fucker supreme right here I guess #enJOY #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #boba fett x reader x din djarin #din djarin x reader x boba fett #star wars fanfiction #my writing

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either…

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon…

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash.

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops.

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me demigods

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rudystopit · 3 years

Text

Study Date

[iida Tenya x f!reader]

summary: you and the other girls started making bets on who the class rep. has a crush on. you decided you’d find out yourself.

*all characters are third years*

warning: nsfw but wholesome, stripping, squirting, overstimulation, praising, and fingering.

wc: 3.4k

You sat with mina and momo at lunch. they sat quietly. You look around. You see the class rep. You two make eye contact and he shyly waves. You flash a bright smile and wave back. You turn back to the other two.

“Let’s make a bet,” you say. You catch their attention. “Who does Mr Iida Tenya have a crush on?” You smile.

“$5, no one,” momo says, “he seems like he’d be the type to say ‘he doesn’t have time’” she laughs.

“$10 Uraraka,” mina says. You write down their bets as the rest of the girls show up.

“Whatcha writing?” Uraraka asks, looking at the paper.

“Bets, want in?” You tell her. you move the notebook so she can see it.

“What are we betting on?” Tsuyu asks, sitting next to mina.

“Who Iida likes,” mina laughs, “I said Uraraka,” Uraraka’s face goes red.

“$5 y/n,” Jirou says, sitting down next to momo.

“Why me?” you ask.

“he stares at you all the time,” Jirou says.

“yeah,” all the girls say.

“i change my bet,” mina says. “$10 on y/n.”

“how about i ask him on a date and you guys pay me the bets, since you guys all think he likes me,” you sneer.

“ok,” mina says.

“fine. $5 each,” you say, getting up. you walk over to where iida is sitting. he’s reading and he looks up to see you. he smiles.

“hello, y/n,” he says sweetly.

“hey, i need help studying for that test. can you help me out?” you ask.

he smiles and says he wouldn’t mind and to come by his dorm this afternoon and he’ll help you. you thank him and walk back to the table. they all act natural when you turn around.

“so?” tooru asks.

“i’m going to his dorm tonight to study,” you sit down and they talk about what think is gonna happen. they start another bet if you’re gonna sleep with him or not.

that afternoon, you walk to his dorm. you wore a simple hoodie and some shorts. you held your books in hand. you didn’t need help on study but it was the only thing you could think of on the spot that didn’t sound to “datey.”

you knocked on his door. you heard some shuffling and the door opens. he stood in the doorway with a white shirt and some sweats. you smile. “hey, y/n, come in,” he opens the door wider.

his dorm was super clean. like show room clean. you doubt there’s even a speck of dust. damn he must clean everyday. you sit at the coffee table and he sits on the side next to you. he opens the textbook and starts reading what the test is going to be about. you zone out to his calming voice. you start to drift off to sleep.

“y/n!” he yells. you snap awake. “really? you asked for help,” he’s voice is rough.

“sorry, it just so boring,” you huff. you put your head on the table. he looks at you. a small smile creeps onto his face. you shoot up with an idea. “let’s make it a game!”

“like what?” he asks. you smile.

“ok, hear me out, every question i get right, i get to ask you a question wrong, one piece of clothing off,” his face gets red, “your choice of clothes, if you want,”

“no,” he almost yells. his face is super red.

“come on tenya~” you beg. “studying is so boring so let’s make it fun!”

“n-no y/n,” he stumbles. you give up and put you’re head on the table. you play with your hands, embarrassed. he probably hates you now, you thought. “well, maybe we could,” you turn your head to him. “w-we could try it. i just don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he played with his hands.

“ok,” you answered.

“ok, umm,” he asks a question about the cell structure. you messed up the er and golgi body. his face goes beat red when he had to pick something for you to take off. “s-shorts, i guess, you don’t want to it’s fin-“ you stand up and pull them down and toss them to the side. you plop back down.

he asks about aerobic respiration. you answer correctly. “shirt,” he pulls it over his head. he looks away as you look at his toned abs.

he asked about the main parts of the cell. “easy, membrane, nucleus, and ctyoplsm,” you answer. “left sock” he gives you a weird look and pulls off his left sock.

“ok describe a lysosome,” he asks. he leans his elbows on the table as you described something and is totally not even close to a lysosome. “wrong,” he smiles. “give me your left sock,” he smiles. you take it off and throw it at him.

“here’s an easy one,” he says

“hey i’ve gotten two correct so far!” you yell.

“ok, do you want a hard one?” he leans over to you. “you really want me to take your clothes?”

your face goes red. “just ask the question.”

“where are organelles found?” he asks.

“in the cytoplasm,” he smiles.

“let me guess, my right sock,” he laughs. you hold out your hand. he pulls it off and hands it to you. “described cell theory,” you ramble on about cell theory but you miss a small part. “ooh so close but you missed apart, hand over the sock,” you glare at him and give him your right sock.

he asked about the parts of a nucleus. you answer. you almost didn’t get it right up, but you caught yourself. “well, gimme the pants,” his face is bright red the whole time he takes off his pants. he sits back down and won’t look you in the eyes. you’ve never seen his legs up close or with out the mufflers. you let your hand crease his calf. he tenses up. he crosses his arms and closes his eyes as you feel his leg.

“does it ever hurt?” you ask mindlessly.

“sometimes,” he answers. “not my legs but the rest.” you’ve heard about his quirk but you never could fully understand it. “let’s get back to studying,” his tone felt serious. he asks about the mitochondria and you say some dumb shit.

“come on. it’s literally the easiest thing to remember,” he yells.

“damn i’m sorry,” without thinking you take off your hoodie and hand it to him. he freezes and his face goes instant tomato red. you completely forgot what bra you were wearing. the lacy black one that you only wear when it’s a special occasions or laundry day. your cheeks get hot as he stares. “next question!” you yell.

“uh... ummm... oh, here, which organelle’s function is likely to be impaired because of an mutation?” he asks trying not to look at you.

“i don’t know ribosomes,” he looks at you with wide eyes. ha you got it right.

“c-correct,” he stumbles. he straights get up.

“the glasses! four eyes!” you’re beyond red. you hold out your hand. he takes them off. you stare at him. he only got hotter. he looks at you squinting.

“what?” he asks.

“n-nothing, next question!” you say looking away.

“Which of the following observations tells her that the organism is eukaryotic?” he asks with the book inches away from his face.

“ughh ribosomes again?” you say. he squints at you.

“no,” he quickly looks away and holds out his hand. you take off your bra and hand it to him. he looks at it and squints. face, red. he drops it. “bad time to ask for my glasses back?”

“iida tenya did you just flirt with me!” you joke.

“n-no i meant to read the questions!” he gets all fluster. you put the glasses across to him. he puts them on and blinks a few times. then he looks at you. his mistake because he instantly looks away with a mad blush.

you laugh and crawl over to him. he refuses to look at you. you grab his chin. he looks at your face only. “it’s okay, tenya. i don’t mind,” you drop his chin and grab his hand. you bring it up to your chest. he doesn’t know what to do at first but he looks down and starts squeezing it softly. his cheeks are super red. you smile at how cute he is. his hand drops and he turns tkt be book.

“well we should get back to work,” you decided not to fight it and sat down and waited for the question. “are you single?”

“yes,” you answer. “hey that correct!” you joke. he looked at you like deer in headlights. “i’m joking. also why would i ask to play this game if i dating someone?”

“i don’t know,” he says shyly. “What type of microscope would be most effective for studying a living cell?” he asks.

you thought a little bit then answered magnifying glass. he looks at you. “wrong” you got up and then turned around. you slowly pulled down your panties. you tossed them at him which he dodged. you laugh and sit back down.

“umm, Which of the following choices correctly describes the composition of a ribosome?” he asked.

“contains RNA, proteins, and... lipids?” you ask. he pinched the bridge of his nose, he sighs.

“no,” he looks at you. “what now?”

“hmm. you seem like you’ve never touched a girl so i guess everyone i get wrong you can explore?”

he’s overwhelmed. he’s way over his head. you broke him. “n-no,”

“fine ask me a question about myself,” you say leans back on your elbows. your whole body on display. he couldn’t help but stare.

“Based on the diagrams, which organism(s) are eukaryotic and why?” he slides the book to you. you sit up and stare. he soaked in every inch of your body.

“2 and 3? cause? they both have the tails?” you questions.

“come on y/n,” he huffed. “are you doing this on purpose?”

“yes,” you answer bluntly. he’s jerks back stunned.

“what do you mean?” he asks.

“nope, one question per lost,” you wave your figure in his face.

“Which of the following junctions form a watertight seal between neighboring cells?” then he lists four things. you think about it and try remembering that lesson. you remember hearing tight junction.

you get close to tenya and you put your index finger on the band of his boxers. you whisper in his ear “tight junction,” you snap his waistband. you sit back down facing away as he takes them off. you look over your shoulder. he’s scowling at you.

he flips through the book, “What is the primary function of the rough endoplasmic reticulum?” he asks and looks at you. you stare off thinking of the answer.

“modifying proteins!” you shout. he smiles.

“okay, hit me, what something your dying to know?” he laughs leaning on the table to hide his lap.

“virgin?” you ask.

“...yeah,” he says shyly.

“awww,” you yell and put your hand on his arm.

“Which of the following proteins attach desmosomes to one another?” he asks.

“a what?”

“desmosomes are junctions that attach themselves to its neighbors,” he explains. you move closer. you warm your arms around his. he tenses up and tries to push you off.

“like this?” you laugh.

“y-yes y/n g-get off,” he gets you off.

“hmmm, connexins?” you ask.

“nope, why are you doing this?” he asks in a hella scary tone.

“because,” you answer laying down, looking at the ceiling. you turn to him. he’s rubbing his temples.

“no seriously y/n!” he yells.

“damn fine, because i wanted to know if you liked me,” you answer sitting up. you tweedle with your hand. “mina and the other girls said they catch you staring at me and we wanted to know if you liked me,” you mumble. “it’s fine you don’t and i can leave if you want,” you reach over to grab your hoodie.

he grabs your wrist, “we’re not done studying,” what the fuck is up with him and study...

you sit back down and he looks through the book. “ah, Which of the following is a function of the extracellular matrix?” and he lists stuff out.

“i don’t know, storing genetic info?” you say shrugging. you weren’t feeling this anymore. you feel exposed and kinda tired.

“wrong, do you like me?” he asks.

“i guess,” you look at your feet. “after today yeah,”

“ok, Which of the following statements is true regarding gap junctions?” he asks.

“tenya, i don’t know, can we just stop,” you ask.

“nope,” he sighs, “fine, here’s a different question, Which of the following statements regarding chloroplasts is false?”

“thylakoids are pigments found in the chloroplast that’s what give plants the green color,” you sigh.

“correct,” he says. “what’s your question?”

“can i leave?”

“no, ask a better one,” he rolls his eyes.

“fine, who do you like?” you huff looking at the book. he moves next to you and grabs your chin. he lightly kisses you. it takes a second for you to process what is going on. he pulls away. he puts his hand on the back of his neck and laughs.

“i’ve liked you for awhile now. i just thought you had i think with someone mina is friends with,” he smiles. you just blank stare at him. you brain is somehow empty but also having a million consecutive thoughts at the same time. “sorry, you can leave if you want,” he moves back to his spot on the floor.

you practically lunge at him. your arms around his neck. you sit on his lap. you smash your lips against his. he’s taken by surprise but he closes his eyes and his hands make their way to your hips. you smile into the kiss. you part your lips and swipe your tongue across his lips. he pulls away.

“sorry, i’m not tha-“ you cut him off but kissing him and shoving your tongue into his mouth. you explore ever inch and your fingers tangle in his hair. his hands explore your body. he feels every inch of your back, ass and shoulder.

you pull away with a string of silva connecting you two. “i want to,” you pause. he thinks for a second. his eyes widen and he blushes.

“are you sure?” he asks. “we don’t have to it you don’t want to,”

“do you want too?” you ask.

he looks you on his lap, “yes, a lot,” he smiles. you get off of him and stand up. you hold out your hands for him. he grabs them and stand up. he pulls you to him and you rest your head on his chest. he kisses your head. you look up at him and he kisses your forehead. he starts to walk and you stumble back. he keeps giving you small pecks around your face. you giggle as he plays with your hands while walking. the cold back hit the wall.

he leans over you. he looks down at you and smiles. you smile back.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers. he dips his head to your neck and kisses till he find the spot that makes you melt. he leaves it purple and he drops your hands. his hands travel down your sides and onto your thighs. he grabs them and pushes you up. you hop in his arms. he grips right under your ass

“little hands there, lover boy,” you laugh.

“i’ve been wait so long for this, let me,” he winks and carries you to his bed. he lays you down gently. he kisses your neck and leaves a trail of small kisses down your chest and to you stomach. he rubs your hips. you tangle you fingers in his blue hair.

he smiles and moves away from you. you sit up, watching him. he squats down to his dresser and shuffles the clothes around. you hear a box get ripped open. you start laughing. of course he’s prepared. he looks over his shoulder.

“you’re cute,” you say. he blushes even more and you hear the ripping of plastic. he puts the condom on and walks back to you. he leans down and cups your face. he smiles down at you.

“are you sure?” he asks. you nod. “use your words, darling,” his thumb rubs your cheek.

“yes, tenya, i’m 100% sure i want you,” you whisper. he kisses your forehead and he pushes his tip in. you moan into his chest. he’s grateful you can’t see his face. you grab his hips and pull him closer.

he stretches you out. everything about him is huge so why wouldn’t his dick be just as big. you squeeze your eyes shut and moan louder into his chest. he bottoms out.

“are you ok?” he asks.

“yes ten,” you smile. he leans down and kisses your cheeks and travels down to your neck. he kisses your collarbone. you roll your hips slightly and tenya’s breathing hitches. you move him hips and he takes control. he slowly thrusts in and out. you wrap your legs around his hips. your arms snake around his back. he hugs you and picks up the pace.

“damn, y/n you feel so good,” he whispers. he starts slamming into you. you claw into his back and moan into his neck. “god you sound amazing,” he loves how your pussy clenches around him. he starts groaning in your ear and he comes. he lays on your and pants on your neck. he pulls out and walks to the bathroom.

you hear the water running from the sink. you lay there. he comes back and crawls in bed behind you. his huge arms wrapping around you. he kisses the back of your neck. he picks you up and sides underneath you. he’s sitting up against the headboard and you’re snuggled into his chest. one of his hands slides down your stomach. he slips two fingers in between your folds. he rubs a small circle around your clit. you bite your lip and move your legs wider. he keeps one of his arms across your chest.

“come on, darling, i want to hear you,” he says and moves his fingers faster. you let out a breathy moan. he kisses your shoulder. he moves his two fingers to your entrance. he slips them in. you out his name. he pumps his fingers for a little bit then curls them. you try to arc your back but his arm holds you against his chest.

his fingers rub against the rough part of your pussy. he moves his fingers at an inhuman speed. you moan out, “come on princess, come on my fingers,” with that you come undone on his fingers. he keeps his pace and you ride out your high until you feel like you have to pee. he keeps going.

“tenya, too much,” you moan out gripping onto his arm and wrist. he keeps going. yelled out and you felt a liquid flow out of you. you pant and you bury your face into his arm.

“yes, good girl,” he pulls his fingers out of your aching pussy. you watch him rub his fingers together with the slick fluid. he kisses your neck. “don’t worry baby. i just know the female body,” he kisses your shoulder.

he scoops you up bridal style and walks you to the bathroom. he sits you on the toilet while he starts a bath. you head swirl and you felt like passing out. you hang your held and close your eyes. tenya moves to sit in between your legs. his arms wrap around you waist. you put your hand on his head. you pet his soft hair. you two sat like that for a few minutes.

he moves away and feels the water. he takes your hands and pulls you up. he kisses your forehead. he pulls your closer into a hug.

“you’re amazing,” you whisper. he chuckles and pulls away. he climbs into the bath and follow in with him. you lay your head on his chest and the warm water relaxes your muscles. his arms are wrapped tightly around you arms. you played with his fingers. you drift off the sleep.

a warm sun hits your face. your eyes slowly open and your met with a sleeping tenya. you smile and shuffle closer to him. he smiles and grabs your waist and pulls you to his chest. you kiss him. he kisses back and opens his sleepy eyes.

“that’s a great way to wake up,” he mumbles. you giggle and snuggle into his chest.

#iida #iida tenya #iida smut #iida tenya smut #smut #bnha smut #bnha iida #my hero academia #my hero academy smut #mha smut #mha iida #mha fic #fanfic #fanfiction #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 3 years

Text

Prompt: Veritaserum is one of the most powerful potions in the wizarding world, a few drops able to make the one who takes it to reveal their deepest secrets with no hesitation. So of course Fred and George learn how to make it for a prank, however it quickly backfires when they test it out on Y/N, who happens to have a crush on the older Weasley twin.

Warnings: swearing? Kind of angsty for like two seconds, That’s it really.

A/N: Sorry I haven’t written in so long, finals are kicking my ass and I barely have time to myself anymore. That being said, I hope you enjoy! This idea has been rattling around my brain for a while.

You sat in the Gryffindor common room, sipping hot coco and enjoying the rare silence as you read a book. You had just gotten to the end of your chapter when a pair of red haired boys walked in, interrupting your solitude.

“Hello Y/N” George greeted you, sitting in the open spot next to you, George following his movements on the other side of you.

“What do you want?” You asked, not looking up from your book. You could tell by Fred's’ tone that he was planning something, and you had no interest in being a part of it.

“Now dear Y/N, why do you think we want something from you?” Fred asked, having a very similar expression to his brother.

Instead of replying you simply gave Fred a look as if to ask ‘do I look stupid?’ Fred got the message and his face shifted from a fake casual look to a smile.

“You know us so well” He laughed, causing you to shake your head and close your book.

“Unfortunately” You sighed, putting your book to the side to give the boys your full attention.

In fact, you did know the twins well, almost better than they knew themselves. You had met them in your first year, and when you were sorted into Gryffindor, the three of you became inseparable, in fact, you were one of the only people who were able to tell them apart. However, you couldn’t deny that you and Fred spent a bit more time together, whether it be in class or on the quidditch pitch, you were constantly making each other smile and laugh, and you knew you could tell him anything. Well, except for the fact that you also happened to have a massive crush on him since fourth year. That would remain a secret.

You watched as the boys moved to sit on the couch across from you, now facing you with a similar smile on their faces.

“We have what could quite possibly be, the best prank in Hogwarts history” George said, trying to sell you on their idea, which you still haven't heard.

“What would you say” Fred started “if you could ask Snape any question you wanted. Anything from test answers to the color of his underwear-”

“Eww” You interrupted

“Exactly! The blackmail potential, the humiliation, the revenge. What would you say?” George finished looking at you.

“I would say you’ve both lost your marbles. Snape hardly speaks let alone confesses those types of things” You said

“But what if... We had a way to make sure he did” Fred asked.

You finally put the pieces together, your jaw dropping to the floor. “How did you-”

“Snape has a book of rare spells and potions” George started

“And we checked it out for the weekend” Fred finished.

“So you stole it” You stated

“More like borrowed, for educational purposes” Fred argued

“Its all set up. We’ll sneak it into his pumpkin juice before class, spread out the word and by second period tomorrow, we’ll have gotten revenge from all the torment. All you need to do, is make sure the potion works” George said, making your eyes widen.

“I’m not taking that!” You practically yelled. You trusted the boys to not ask you any questions that were too personal, that being said, there was still a lot of room for embarrassment, or for the potion to go completely wrong.

“Oh come on Y/N, worst case scenario it doesn’t work” George defended, but Fred could tell you still weren’t convinced.

“Hey” Fred said, leaning forward and gently grabbing your hand, squeezing it comfortingly “I promise we wouldn’t ask if there were risks that could hurt you”

You were to focused on containing the butterflies that had erupted in your stomach from Fred’s touch to notice how George looked between the two of you, or how he suddenly seemed to have an idea.

“Ok fine” You said, causing the two boys to cheer, before George turned and dug out a small glass vial from his bag.

“Two drops should do the trick” George said, adding a few drops of the liquid into your drink from earlier.

You picked up the drink and eyed it, considering backing out but the thought of finally getting back at Snape for humiliating you, and so many others took over. Taking a breath, you finished your drink and set down the mug.

“How long until it starts working?” You asked after a few seconds, not feeling any different.

“It should take effect immediately” Fred said, looking at you for any sign of discomfort or change in mood. “What’s two plus two?”

“Four” You said

“You need to ask better questions than that! Something to prove she can only tell the truth” George said, turning his attention back to you “How old where you when you had your first kiss?”

“Fourteen” You said, surprised at how the words seemed to tumble out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“What’s your most embarrassing story from Hogwarts?” Fred asked

“I once accidentally called Professor McGonagall mom in front of the entire class in first year... fuck you weren't supposed to know about that. Stop asking embarrassing questions you git!” You yelled at the older red head, who simply laughed and shook his head.

“No, I think this is quite fun actually” He said, before George continued.

The questions went on for a few minutes, asking you things from what your favorite color was, to the worst date you’ve ever been on, but finally, the two red heads seemed convinced.

“Alright, it seems like its working” George started, but the glint in his eye showed that he wasn’t quite finished yet. “Who do you have a crush on?”

You couldn’t cover your mouth fast enough. You couldn’t think to run away before the name was tumbling from your lips. You couldn’t do anything but sit and watch in horror, as you answered the question.

“Fred Weasley”

The room went dead silent, the only sound coming from the clock in the corner of the room.

“Y/N I-” Fred started, but you stood up and ran out of the room before he could say anything else.

“I knew it!” George shouted with glee once you were out of earshot, causing Fred to whip his gaze to glare at his brother.

“George what the fuck!” Fred yelled, anger evident in his voice.

“What? You’ve been pining over her like a sad puppy for over a year. Now you finally know” George defended, watching as his older brother quickly stood to follow you.

You had ran as fast as you could, weaving through students and running through corridors before you finally found yourself sitting at a hidden spot by the black lake, finally letting the tears you had been fighting go.

You had liked Fred since fourth year. You had been yelled at in front of the whole class, and were so humiliated you skipped the rest of the school day. Fred had found you, and talked with you all day, making you laugh and smile, not leaving until you finally felt better.

Ever since then your feelings grew. This last summer, you had spent the summer at the Weasley’s and found it a bit hard to sleep one night. You had gone outside to watch the stars, and Fred had joined you. You spend hours talking about life, your futures, your friendships, and at one point, he had looked at you in a way that made you wonder if maybe your feelings weren't one sided. Now you could see that wasn’t the case.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching you. Without looking up, you already knew it was Fred. You were now sitting with your knees pulled into your chest, your chin resting on the tops of your knees as you looked out at the water.

“This spot taken?” Fred asked, motioning to the spot beside you. You didn’t answer, just shook your head, giving the boy permission to take a seat next to you.

“The potion should have worn off by now, so you shouldn’t have to worry about it anymore” Fred said softly, as if not to spook you.

“You don’t have to do this you know” You mumbles, still refusing to meet Fred’s eyes, who were now looking at you with confusion.

“Do what?” He asked

“Try and make me feel better. I know were friends and everything, but I know you don't feel the same way, and I’d really rather just be alone then pretend everything is ok between us.” You said, trying not to let anymore tears fall.

Fred heard these words and felt his heart break. Fred, unknown to you, had also shared your feelings. Your smile could light up any room. You were so unconditionally kind to everyone you met. Your laugh was his favorite sound, and he had made it his goal to try and hear it as often as possible. He had been trying to drop hints, flirtatious comments, or small gestures, and that one night at the burrow, where you were under the stars, he thought he had finally made it clear how he felt. Apparently not, and he didn’t want to waste any more time trying to be subtle.

“See, now I know the potion isn’t working anymore” Fred chuckled, causing you to look at him with a confused expression.

“What?” You asked

“I do feel the same way” Fred said softly

“Fred... you don’t have to say it if you don't-” You started

“Hold on” Fred interrupted, digging through his pocket and pulling out the same small vial from earlier, before tilting his head back and taking a swig. “Now ask me”

“Oh my god, Fred I-” You asked.

“Ask me who I have a crush on” Fred said simply.

“Fine... Who do you have a crush on Fred?” You asked quietly, almost afraid of what the answer would be.

“Y/N L/N” Fred answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“You do?” You asked, a smile forming onto your lips.

“Yes” He replied, a smile growing across his face as well.

“Well why do you like me?” You asked, a hint of teasing to your voice.

“Well, you’re beautiful, you’re the funniest person I’ve ever met, you are so kind to everyone you meet, you’re super smart, you have a great ass- wait fuck that wasn’t supposed to come out” Fred said, about to continue but you kept him from going on by finally closing the space between you and pressing your lips to his.

Fred responded instantly, smiling into the kiss before moving his hands to your waist, while yours went to hold his face. You stayed like this for a moment, moving in sync with each other before finally pulling away for air.

“Told you I liked you back” Fred said, making you laugh before re connecting your lips but only for a moment.

“So I’m the funniest person you’ve ever met?” You asked.

“Yes... hey not fair!” Fred complained, making you laugh once again.

“Ok ok fine” You said, allowing Fred to reconnect your lips once again, before breaking away again.

“You think I have a great ass?”

“Yes- Y/N!”

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A/N: Hiiiii! I hope you guys enjoyed! I’ll hopefully be writing more in the future since the school semester is slowing down a bit, but until then check out my other work if you want or leave a request. Thank you all for reading!

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine

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itsmaddienotmaddy · 3 years

Text

Buckle up bitches, I have a LOT to say.

USA v Brazil

Alyssa had a #1 goalkeeper game. She directed, she came up big, she’s Our keeper. It’s good for us to have games where she’s tested. Yeah, it’s not fun to watch those dangerous chances that could cost us. But Alyssa makes things less scary.

Becky had a phenomenal game. The crosses she denied, her positioning to keep players wide, allllll her headers. Her calming presence is so appreciated and she’s a huge reason the US is successful defensively.

Crystal is world fuckin class. When she came all the way to the other side and SAVED OUR LIVES. I mean. Come on. She was lucky in the sense that Brazil’s game plan was to attack down the left ONLY to expose Abby and Sonnett. She was given a better opportunity to work more offensively, and her and Christen connect beautifully. Her Christen and Lindsey were connecting in just an insane way. The chemistry with those three on the left was perfection. Crystal had some moves that had my jaw on the ground, she’s so smart. And the runs she made to open up passes and crossing opportunities.. when is her master class? I would like to attend.

Okay. Gonna lump Abby and Sonnett together a bit here. I want to start by saying, I don’t think they did BAD. Didn’t do great! But you have to take a step back and examine the situation. All Brazil wanted to do was attack down that side. Who were the two players doing the attacking? MARTA AND DEBINHA. Two absolutely incredible, tricky, LETHAL players. So, did Sonnett and Abby both makes mistakes and get beat a couple times? Yeah. Of course they did. Did they also come up big on other defensive plays? They sure did. Abby recovers very well when she gets beat and she showed that. Sonnett had some good tackles, she WAS cutting off angles on passes and kept some transition plays from happening. She dealt with Brazilian players pressing with some sick moves AND had two beautiful crosses into the box to Lindsey. (And to echo my post during the game, Sonnett and Horan are NOT allowed to try and 1-2 pass out of the back. Dumb dumbs. They ARE allowed to double team players together though. Much more effective.)

Julie. I genuinely couldn’t tell if she was having a terrible game or a great game. There were glimmers of brilliance, perfectly timed defensive tackles, smart movement, good passes. Then she had some bad shots rocketed to the moon, passes to NO ONE, and throwing the ball away out of bounds. Overall, confusing performance from her, but not detrimental.

Rose had herself a GAME. Idk where her prewrap went, her hair was definitely getting in her face. But her movement was incredible. Her defensive work was incredible. It was very clear that Vlatko was asking every single player to work defensively to get numbers in the back. Christen and Lindsey worked with Crystal, Rose and Lynn working to help Sonnett. Okay, back to purely Rose. She was dictating pace, she was doing moves, she was making smart tackles, she was setting up dangerous scoring opportunities. She was in her ELEMENT. She was obviously tired as shit at the end, but it’s because she put in the work. That’s why we have subs.

Lindsey pisses off people on the internet and that’s fine. She is a physical player, a bulldozer. And people don’t love that. But she takes it as much as she gives it. Such is life battling for balls in the middle of the field. This game though. This game. Jesus Christ Lindsey Horan is good at soccer. Her first touch is so smooth, her vision, her work rate to be everywhere on the field, god, her weighted passes! Hello. Did she not have both assists? And she did all of that, for a full ninety. Insanity. She handles defensive pressure so well, pinging passes around, always giving someone an outlet. The fact that she was a defensive savior on many occasions and was involved in both goals... I. How?

Kristie. Loving all the minutes she’s getting. Little lost out there for her short time in, this did not look like a game that was easy to slot into. But, ya know, she didn’t do anything wrong. More minutes for Argentina? Maybe a START?

Lynn. Kind of like Julie, she was either doing amazing things, or a whole lot of nothing. This was not an offensive game for her, which isn’t great for a forward. To her credit, she tracked back defensively very well. But her 1 v 1 offensive challenges, she was getting stuck. When she worked her ass off to get those scoring opportunities, she wasted them. Slowing down in the box was not the move. Unlike Christen who slows with the purpose to cut the ball and unleash a shot, Lynn was slowing down and then didn’t know what to do. It was frustrating to watch and I’m sure it was frustrating for her. That was not the performance she needed to have. But damn, I appreciated the speed trio of her, Alex and Christen. (Though I think I’d rather put Tobin in her place in a starting 11)

Alex had a pretty good game. Her work rate was high and she did what only she has perfected. That woman is EXCELLENT at drawing fouls. She goes hard, she gets her legs tangled up, she spins the right way and she gets herself ROCKED. This canNOT be good for her body, but getting those set pieces for a team that thrives with set pieces.. it’s valuable. I thought she had awesome fluidity switching going wide and staying central with Lynn and Christen. I’m happy with her start and happy with her performance.

Christen Press was out there doing Christen Press things. It’s been hard watching her play at United and not do the incredible things we all know she can do. THIS game?? She sliced and diced that defensive line. Just stupid good on the ball, with accurate passing and movement with Crystal and Lindsey. That side was unstoppable. You could hear Vlatko yelling at her to come back defensively and she did. SO well. She had a lot of important clearances that got us out of the danger zone and back on the attack. And her goal. Oh my god her GOAL. It’s what she does. HAO said it. It’s what she practices over and over so come game time, she makes it look easy. I love her sm.

Carli was not the correct sub choice. Should have been Cat. She literally did not do anything.

Sophia was given opportunity in a tough game. Unfortunately, she didn’t do much with it. She didn’t provide the same defensive work the other players did. Lindsey slid over to cover that job for sure. And her one incredible goal chance, she did the same exact thing that WASNT working for Lynn all game. But, she needs the minutes, she got them, she’s got time to grow.

Pinoe coming in as a SUPER SUB. Which I think is def going to be her role going forward as long as Press stays in form. Initially, she was not exuding super sub energy. She doesn’t love doing the defensive work and it shows, and the announcers called her out for not helping the press when Julie triggered it. But she settled into it. Pinoe is a SMART player and THAT BITCH KNOWS HOW TO SCORE. And she did JUST THAT. Love a good Pinoe goal celebration too.

That’s my two cents on all that. Overall. What a game. My eyeballs were glued to the screen, heart rate skyrocketing. I love this fuckin team.

#uswnt #alyssa naeher #becky sauerbrunn #crystal dunn #abby dahlkemper #emily sonnett #Julie ertz #rose lavelle #lindsey horan #kristie mewis #lynn williams #alex morgan #christen press #sophia smith #carli lloyd #megan rapinoe

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

6x06: You Can't Handle the Truth

Then:

Soulless Sam was a psychotic work of art

Now:

Calumet City, Illinois

Jane, a cute waitress at Biggerson’s, talks on the phone with a friend about whether a boy likes her (Bechdel who?). “I just need the truth,” she implores, as the camera zooms in on her mouth.

She gets the truth. After ending the call, her coworkers start telling her VERY mean things, and a customer admits to running over a homeless man once. People just poor their worst thoughts out at her. Feeling like she’s going crazy, she calls someone to pick her up. Her friend just throws out more mean things at Jane. It’s then that Jane pulls out a gun and kills herself. DARK.

Meanwhile Dean’s on the phone with Bobby about Sam. Bobby says he’ll look into it more and tells Dean, “Don’t shoot him yet.” Once off the phone, Sam brings food and a case.

They head to interview Jane’s sister. She tells Sam that Jane was having a bad day, and she tried cheering her up. Sam --ruthless and blunt-- calls her out on her lie and asks what she did. Dean watches, perplexed. The sister starts crying, and admits that she wanted to console her sister, but it’s not what came out when she talked to her. They leave wondering what could have caused the fatal exchange.

At a dentist’s office, a man sits in the dreaded chair, chit chatting with the dentist. He suddenly admits to not liking his wife anymore, and he’s actually a raging pedophile.

Dean’s back on the phone with Bobby, hoping for answers on whether it’s Sam or Satan that’s Dean’s copilot. Dean’s struggling with the idea that this could just be Sam.

Sam comes back to the motel to report another death --this time a guy got drilled to death. (But by the “non-sexy kind of drilling”, as Dean points out. DUDE.) Dean tells Sam to go interview the dentist alone. He’ll stay behind and do research. Uh, not suspicious at ALL , Dean.

Turns out, the dentist hung himself before Sam could talk with him. They’re thinking that all the truth telling around the deaths point to a curse. While Sam heads to the morgue to check out the body, Dean heads to the dentist’s office. Once there, he finds a receipt for “Harry’s House of Horns” and remembers that Jane also had frequented the store.

He goes to interview the store owner.

The owner asks about progress on his stolen horn. It was a museum piece, a thousand years old, one in a million. It was stolen the same day Jane died.

Later, at the motel, he looks up Gabriel’s Horn, and sarcastically prays to Cas to check out the “loose nuke”, not really expecting the angel to show.

GUYS. I haven’t rewatched this episode in --forever!--and didn’t think Cas was in it. But HE IS. AND we get a “Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s a little (!) pissed that Cas will come for this stupid horn, but not otherwise. Cas reassures Dean that Sam is not Lucifer while pouring him a consolation drink.

Dean asks Cas what’s wrong with Sam, but Cas doesn’t know (Like, doesn’t Cas honestly not know he forgot Sam’s soul or is he lying on purpose?). Dean then stares (and stares) at Cas. He wants to know what Cas’s deal is --when did he stop being human (*whimpering noises*). “I’m at war.”

For Science:

Dean mentions Gabriel’s Horn of Truth and says they think it’s in town. Before he can continue, Cas is gone. (*whimpering noises*)

Dean takes a drink, and Cas is back before he can finish swallowing. He searched the town and didn’t find Gabriel’s horn. Dean turns his back and tells Cas, “Nice seeing you anyway.” Cas tries mending fences a bit by telling Dean that he does want to help with Sam. He tells Dean that he’ll “make inquiries”, and is gone. Dean looks around the room forlornly, and takes another drink.

Sam takes a look at the dead dentist and asks to see the rest of the bodies. The coroner says, “They’re gone.” Gone gone. They’re gone.

Dean sits at a bar, nursing his Cas wounds, and watches the news on the television. Sam calls with the news. He’s at a missing person’s apartment now --and since she died a whole week before the others, he’s thinking the curse started with her.

Dean orders another drink for the road, and utters the words, “I’d just like the freaking truth.” The bartender unloads some serious truths on Dean --and he realizes that he’s cursed.

He calls Bobby to test out his new cursed skills, and learns that Bobby’s drinking milk in the middle of the day and watching Tori and Dean. Lol, nothing to confess at all, Bobby! “I guess it does work over the phone,” Dean laments. Bobby also confesses to pedicures and that Dean’s his favorite (but Sam’s the better hunter). OOF. Said flippantly, but this is one truth siblings never want confirmation on. Dean tells Bobby that he’s cursed --and then he gets an idea.

Dean calls Sam strategically now that he’s carrying the truth curse, and asks him to call him when he has a chance SO HE CAN SPILL. Sam can’t come to the phone right now because he’s going over the case with Corey’s sister. She confesses that her sister was obsessed with finding out the truth about her potentially-cheating boyfriend.

Back with Dean, Lisa calls at the WORST TIME. She confronts him about his behavior - storming in and shoving Ben. “You've got so much buried in there, and you push it down, and you push it down. Do you honestly think that you can go through life like that and not freak out? Just, what, drink half a fifth a night and you're good?”

Lisa then tears into the reappearance of Sam, tagging the Winchesters’ relationship as unhealthy. As soon as Sam reappeared, she knew their relationship was over. Once everything’s laid out, Lisa pauses. “That came out so much harsher than I meant,” she says, softer this time. Dean absorbs her criticism like a towel specially designed for soaking up loathing. She tells him they’re done.

Sam tears through the bedroom looking for evidence. He finds a cat skull under the bed. “Yahtzee,” as they say. Dean storms in and demands the truth about the vampire hunt. Sam goes dewy eyed. He froze when Dean was attacked! And he feels super duper extra duper bad about it! For REALS.

Later, they uncover the truth - quite literally - while doing research back at the motel. The cat skull was part of a ritual to invoke Veritas. Now everybody in town calls on Veritas whenever they demand the truth. Bombarded with the truth, victims kill themselves and become tributes.

Cut to a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it montage of stealing a hard drive from the TV studio of Ashley Frank, local TV anchor. They (mostly Sam) watch cut footage until dawn.

For Pretty Motel Science:

Nothing suspicious appears until a barking dog makes an appearance on film. While the dog barks uncontrollably at the news anchor, they FINALLY notice an eye flash. Monster target LOCKED.

At Ashley Frank’s palatial home, they ready their weapons: blades coated with dog blood. (Sam does NOT want you to ask where he got it from.) The Winchester’s creep through her house, and finally locate an altar-like setup. There are candles, a sculpture of Veritas, and many cute widdle kitties. Veritas arrives and immediately knocks out the Winchesters.

Later, they wake to find themselves tied to posts. Veritas strolls in wearing a fabulous gold gown and gets right in Dean’s face so she can absorb some delicious emotions.

Dean confesses that he feels better about Sam now, but before he thought he was a monster and wanted to kill him. Dean explains that the hunting gig is that you’re either covered in blood, or dying in it. He tells her that he’s good at slicing throats - he isn’t a father. He’s a killer. I SCREAM BECAUSE 15X18 AND 15X19 LEFT US A GIFT (and then 15x20, well……..doesn’t exist).

Sam tells Veritas that their lives are hard, but he and Dean watch out for each other. He’s EXTREMELY chill about the situation. Veritas listens to this calm analysis and then freaks out and accuses him of lying. She demands to know “what” he is, which is SO RUDE.

They could stick around and talk some more, but Sam’s finally done sawing through the ropes holding him down. He escapes, then Dean frees himself as well. Veritas gets stabbed first by Dean, then Sam. She perishes dramatically, but after that foe is defeated, Dean raises a knife to Sam. Dean demands the truth.

Sam reveals that he knows he is “Sam,” but he understands that there’s something wrong with him. He lied, and he let Dean get turned into a vampire because he knew there was a cure, and that Dean could fight it. He admits that old Sam wouldn’t take the risk of Dean turning forever, or killing an innocent person. Sam tells Dean he doesn’t feel anything - and this is what makes him a better hunter. Sam concludes that he needs help.

Dean knocks Sam to the ground and starts throwing several punches at him until he passes out.

The Quotes Hurt:

Dentist drilled a guy to death

I'm here hittin' the books while drinking a nice glass of milk, while watching Tori & Dean

I'm not saying don't be close to Sam. I'm close to my sister. But if she got killed, I wouldn't bring her back from the dead!

It’s the gig. You're covered in blood until you're covered in your own blood

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #spn 6x06 #you can't handle the truth #bobby singer #supernatural season 6

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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 6

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 6: And So It Begins

“I’m back,” MK tiredly said as he dragged his form out of the blazing sun and into the cool restaurant, “orders delivered, traffic long and people angry, but food is delivered.”

“Great, but you still have another delivery,” Pigsy replied as his back was turned.

“Just one,” he grinned, “compared to the other ten this will be a piece-,”

He slammed down 30 orders down in front of him on the already bustling counter.

“Of cake,” he deflated as he saw the monumental amount of food. “What the-Are we feeding an entire town?!”

“Close. Party, though I should have charged their ungrateful asses extra for the rush order,” he growled out, “who gives an hour warning Huh?!”

“Apparently them,” he groaned as he picked up and carried the whole load into the car.

“And when you get back, there are a dozen more orders to take care of,” Pigsy called out.

“Got it bossman,” he yelled out, then he slammed the door closed and he sat up straight with a grin, “alright this won’t be so bad.”

“BEEF? BEEF?!! I WANTED MISO! GET IT RIGHT YOU STUPID DRIVER! The voice yelled out at MK as the two stood at the doorway.

“I’m sorry but-,” he winced as he was cut off by the rude woman screech.

“You better be sorry! I could have your job for this big of a screw up! You are nothing!”

“Technically I just delivered your food,” he whispered to himself.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing!” He put on his best service smile, “I’m very sorry about this, how about I take your food back so that I can-.”

Splat

MK watched as the woman threw down her food in a fit of rage.

“There’s your damn food, now pick it up and get me a new one,” she spat out.

MK looked down at the pile of food that Pigsy put his sweat and blood into slowly dripping off the stone stairs. He took a deep breath as he put his hand in his pocket to subtly squeeze the stress ball and looked at the woman.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” he deadpans and walks back to the car.

“What?!”

“Also,” he rolled down his window when he got in the car, “if you would like to order for a party, next time call ahead of time.” He then quickly drove off until he could no longer hear the yells of the angry woman.

He rode until he reached the grocery store, parked at the edges of the lot where there were barely any cars, unbuckled his seat belt, and laid his head on top of the wheel.

“I. Hate. People. Sometimes.” He lightly banged his head with each word then he leaned back and took out the ball and squeezed it a few times. “I really do.”

He likes to think of himself as a pretty optimistic person, after having his whole life turned around and learning things can get better, he likes to think that the world can be good. But days like these, people like those, make him really put that side of him to the test and today he very much failed that. He should be glad that he didn’t go off on her, like what Pigsy did when some dude tried to scam him or Mei when she is feeling very competitive over some a-holes, but at the same time that sounds amazing.

He squeezed the ball a little tighter.

“I really want to see Dad right now,” he muttered to himself. It would be so easy, just one yell to him and he would be over in less than a second. “I really want him right now…but I made a promise to myself that I would do this without him.”

So he took a deep breath, lifted his head, put on his music, put away his rainbow stress ball, and slowly began his drive back to Pigsy restaurant.

It was during that drive back that he got a call, “Hello?”

“Hey MK, it’s me,” he stopped as he heard Pigsy's voice, he had a feeling he knows what this is about.

“Heyyy Pigsy, I’m almost at the store,” he tried and failed, to sound casual.

“I just got off a call with a very rude customer who said that you threw down her food when she was being oh so kind,” he bluntly said, “even mentioned about assaulting her.”

“That is so not how any of that went down!” He immediately said, “she yelled at me for saying that I made her food wrong and I told her that it can be redone, but she decided to instead throw down all of that food herself and told me to clean it up! Who does that?! And all of this was after she put her hand all through that food, which is so gross by the way, I mean other people are eating that, cause I know she ain’t-,” he was cut off by Pigsy chuckles.

“You don’t need to explain anything, I know you for far too long to even think that you would put too much salt in someone's food let alone throwing it down on the ground.”

“Oh,” he calmed down as he released the tension from the wheel, “that’s good.”

“Yeah, I told it to her straight just exactly how I felt about her being an utter ass to not only myself but my employees. Let’s just say that she was not happy about that and threaten to sue,” he could almost hear him shrug.

“What no!” He tried to stand up, only to realize he was still in the car and he was still buckled up. “I am so sorry!”

“Don’t be, cause jokes on her the world we live in has become pretty up to date with security and, more importantly, security cameras,” he said with a grin, “I don’t think she’s gonna get a single cent when everything that went down was all on video.”

MK let a smile spread across his face, bless technology and all its glory. “That’s good.”

“It sure is. Do you want to take a breather when you come back? I know that woman was more than a handful that what you're used to,” he asked in concern.

“Nope,” he cheerfully said, “I am A-Ok! Just get those next orders ready for me so I can deliver!”

“Well if you're certain, get your ass back here on the double,” he said, but the teenager could tell it was more playful, “we got orders waiting to be delivered.”

“On my way!” He saluted to no one and hung up. “Alright! Let’s get a move on!”

‘Make sure to add the cohesive before the mixing,’ the voice silently thought to himself.

“It would be so easy just to make that jump, hell my youngest kit sister can make that and she’s not even a month old,” a voice bragged.

‘Combine the Feins roots with the Elia petals first to dilute the solution.’

“All I’m saying is that if you try to jump off the cliff of perils then I sure as hell am not catching you,” another voice deadpanned.

“Nahhh I would be fine.”

‘…dice the Oran berries and Pecha then add when the next stage is ready.’

“If you count being splattered into tiny little pieces fine, then, by all means, go ahead,” another voice sighed.

‘Make sure that the color is a deep orange hue and not dark yellow, that can-,’

“Ye o little faith.”

“No, you are of little sanity. Even my younger gremlins know better,” she shot back.

‘That can easily violate the substance,’

“But they don’t have the certain skills like I do,” they bragged.

‘…leading to a-,’

“It still wouldn’t be a wise thing to do,” a deep voice pointed out.

‘Leads to a-,’ his vial cracked in his hands as he was once again interrupted.

“No, but it would be fun-.”

“I swear,” everyone turned to face the irritated monkey, “to all things good in this world and the next, if you dumbasses don’t shut the fuck up in the next five seconds I will make the Piñata fiasco at the Boiling Isles look like a god damn nap compared to what I’m gonna do to you.”

“Sorry, were we disturbing you,” Yanyu cheekily said.

“You little-”

“Awwww I’m soo sorry,” Daiyu mocked.

“I swear-”

“We didn’t mean to interrupt your monologue,” Minsheng smirked, “you know it kinda reminds me of Flicker when you do that.”

“That’s it!” He slammed down his ingredients, opened his drawers, and took out a roll of duct tape, “come here you little bastards!” He yelled out as he began to chase down the three annoyances.

“Same as usual,” Bohai sighed as he drank his tea.

“One would think not to mess with Mac when he’s like this,” Ahmed commented.

“Especially when he’s in his mood.”

“Especially that.”

“Now shut it,” he proudly said as he sat on top of his third victim.

“Hey hey!” Daiyu struggled to break free, “we were trying to lighten your mood fuzzball.”

“By annoying the shit out of me,” he growled as he taped her beak shut. “Fat chance, anyone else,” he looks over to his other two remaking friends.

“I say nothing,” the jellyfish put his tentacles up in surrender.

“While they may have been a bit well-,”

“Fucking annoying,” the monkey bluntly said.

“Yes that, they did have a purpose to their madness,” the lion pointed out.

“What? What could they possibly want badly enough to annoy the absolute fuck out of me?!”

“You have empty bird nest syndrome.”

“…what?”

“I said-”

“I heard you the first time!” Macaque interrupted, “I do not have that! I am use to MK not being home day to day, so why the hell would you thi-,”

“For days,” Yanyu said once she ripped the tape off her mouth, “but not for longer than a week.”

“Same difference!”

“Nah pal it ain’t,” the bunny demon said as they chewed on their own tape, “I can see it as bright as day, you have been extra moody and hella sad these past couple of days. It’s just like mum, whenever one decides to leave the warren, she gets all glum and broody for days.”

“I am not broody!” His tail swished violently.

“But you do miss him,” Ahmed stated.

“I don’t-”

“And it’s okay if you do.”

“I don’t miss him, I can visit anytime,” he stated.

“You still miss him being there, being next to you,” the lone human gave his ponytail a playful tug and sat next to Mac, who was still sitting on top of the tied-up vulture. “Take it from a big sister, when Shu moved out to live in the dorms I was so happy for him, but as time went on I noticed that I didn’t hear his off pitch singing in the afternoon nor did I hear his voice amongst my gremlins over who gets the last brownie. I didn’t miss him, hell I could video chat with him anytime, but I missed his presence, you know.”

Macaque just gave her a hard look before sighing, “He used to hum to himself whenever he was bored,” he admitted as he got off his friend and slumped down next to her.

Yanyu just patted his shoulder as he continued.

“I know I can just visit him, but my kid is growing up, he’s learning to stand on his own and he should have his own life separate from me.”

“Yeah imma stop you there,” Sheng rolled his eyes, “you are being one over dramatic monkey right now if you think that just because he’s doing his own thing, doesn’t mean that he doesn't have time for you. Hell, you are the one demon he will always have time for no matter what.”

“But-”

“Ain’t no buts about it fuzzbrain,” Daiyu squawked out once she feared the tape off, “your hatching adores the shit out of you and if you don’t think he won’t spend time with you then you are dead wrong.”

“He should have that time to himself, he is just starting out all on his own…without me…,” he slumped in depression, but quickly shot up due to a shocking touch, “OW! FUCKING WHY BOHAI!”

“You're being an idiot,” he smugly said as he lowered his tendril.

“Thanks,” Yanyu nodded to him, “and he’s right. I know that this whole thing won’t end with this so here’s what we’re gonna do. The six of us are going to go to Qián city.”

“…why the fuck are we going to the underwater city of Shanghai?” He incredulously looked at her.

“Cause you seriously need to relax.”

“I don’t-”

“You spent most of your time in the garden or prepping medicine that you don’t need,” Ahmed calmly said as he cleaned up the mess that Mac made.

“…you may have a point, but I don’t really feel like I should leave, what if MK or Mei happens to call?” He said.

“Well one, I know damn well that your hearing exceeds that city's borders,” Sheng points out.

“Okay true.”

“And second, we have the beauty of phones, which allows people to fall from far away,” Yanyu slowly told him as if he was a child, “I taught you this in one of our first lessons.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he muttered, “but I don’t-”

“You either go willingly or Kit Kat over here is going to drag you,” she pointed to Ahmed.

“He wouldn’t-”

“I really would,” he had to stop a smile at the utter betrayal in the monkey's face.

“I could beat your ass again,” he grumbled.

“You very well could,” he agreed, “but then you would also have to go against everyone else and they will happily drag both you and me off.”

“Fine!” He throws his hand in the air.

“Got ‘em!” Sheng high-fived Yanyu.

“Told you he would cave in eventually,” the vulture grinned.

“But we are going there to strictly relax, that means no explosions, arsons, paralyzing, hacking, or prison riots.”

“What about stealing and graffitiing,” the bluenette raised her hand.

“If there assholes, be my fucking guest, but your ass better not get caught.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be more stealthy than sneaking into the police hub to get rid of the evidence,” she cockily stated.

“What?”

“What.”

“…you know what the less I know the better.”

“Good choice, so let’s get packing!” She excitedly said as she, Daiyu, Minsheng, and Bohai exited the infirmary.

“So are you gonna tell them that the game dealers there are more than likely to scam them before or after they get robbed?” Ahmed curiously asked.

“After, they need a lesson on not annoying the fuck out of me when I’m working,” he gave a mischievous grin.

“Quite rude of you,” he grinned.

“But you're smiling too.”

Ahmed chuckled lightly as the two left the infirmary.

It was a quiet day at the restaurant, the dinner rush had just ended and all that was really left to do was wait for the store to close and clean up what’s left. The only customers inside were Mei and Tang, both of whom have long since finished eating and are currently just chatting, or laying down, with MK over the counter.

“So how’re your online classes treating you?” Mei asked.

“Great!” He perked up as he took his eyes off the creepy butterfly in the corner of the restaurant, “I’m just about finished with my general study.”

“Ooo, does that mean you finally have a major in mind,” Mei leaned in.

“No I do not.” He cheerfully stated.

All of them, including Pigsy who was listening in, facepalmed.

“Mkkk,” the nineteen year old groaned.

“I knowww,” he slumped down, “but it’s hard deciding what to do for the rest of your life.”

“Well that is okay,” the historian softly said, “you're still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Besides, college is not for everyone.”

“Yeahhh, so how’re your classes going Mei Mei?” MK turned to his friend, “I know you been taking some of the engineering courses.”

“Ugghhh, don’t get me started,” she slumped down in her seat, “I love it, but that is seriously kicking my ass right now. If I didn’t like to make sweet ass rides then I would have totally just dropped it.”

“Let me guess, for racing,” MK said as he sprayed down the counter.

“Duh, I’m gonna be so fast that when they're only halfway, I've already passed that finish line baby!” Mei screamed.

“Shhhhh,” Tang hushed as he held his head against the cool counter, “not so loud please.”

“You okay there Tang?” Pigsy asked as he moved closer to his friend, “you’ve been like that ever since you got in.”

“Yeah, it’s just this headache has been killing me and my usual medicine isn’t doing a thing,” sighed as he leaned into the warm hand touching his head.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a fever at least,” the pig mutters.

“Do you have any coughing, sneezing, nausea, or any other symptoms?” MK curiously asked as he sat up.

“I have been feeling a bit nauseous,” he murmured.

“Sharp ringing in your ears on and off?”

“Yesss,” he groaned out.

“Hmm hold on,” MK quickly went upstairs, everyone heard faint shuffling noises before he came back down as fast as he was carrying a small baggie, “Can I use your stove and teapot?”

“Go right ahead,” Pigsy agreed.

MK gave a quick smile and they all watched him make a pot of tea, but instead of teabags, he added some of the plants that were inside the bag.

“Here you go,” MK presented the tea to the historian once it was done.

Tang hesitated for a moment before accepting the cup, “…what is it?”

“Medicine. Drink,” he gave him a wide-eyed look.

“...alright,” he shrugged his shoulders and joked, “if this kills me, just burn my corpse.”

“Drink,” MK commanded once more.

Tang drank his tea instead of retorting back and his eyes widen at the taste of it.

“Are ya dead?” Mei asked.

“Feel the poison seeping in,” the pig demon joked.

“This is really good,” he complimented MK and he began to drink more.

“Thanks, it’s Dad’s special recipe diluted when it comes to dealing with migraines,” he happily announced.

“Diluted? I can already feel my migraine already going away, how bad is his if this is diluted?” Tang asked with much concern.

MK grimace as he shared a look with Mei. He can’t help the memories all filtering in of his father lying in bed clutching onto the headphones as it tightly covered all six of his ears. There is never a pattern to when this happens, but he knew to keep a pot of tea hot and a bowl of mango or other non-citrusy fruit available on those days.

“It’s pretty bad,” was all he said.

“Oh,” both adults shared a look before Tang put on a grin as he slurped down his tea, “well this really works, what in it?”

“It’s Feverfew Tea with some Pika berries,” said MK.

“I’ve heard of Feverfew, but I don’t think Pika rings a bell,” Pigsy hummed totally missing Mei’s shocked face.

“Why I never-,”

“No, it’s not pokemon,” MK quickly shut that down before she got to her rant.

‘’Awww,” she deflated.

“It’s from Kunlun peak.”

Tang immediately choked on his tea, “AK! Did you just say Kunlun peak!”

“Yep!”

“What’s so special about that,” she glumly asks.

“Mount Kunlun is known to be a mythical mountain that hikers and historians have been searching for centuries,” Tang began, “It’s said to hold both mythical animals and plants, each having extraordinary potential within them as even the Gods from above go down there for certain herbs and items needed for their potions. It just lays there on top of the highest peak, but no person nor demon has ever had a straight map leading there and you’re telling me your Dad, Macaque, went there?!”

“He goes there a few times a year,” the teenager proudly says.

He looks down at his tea with sparkles in his eyes, “I’m drinking magic tea made from the legendary mountain,” he gave a big slurp as he inhaled it and stood up.

Pigsy eyed the drink, neither teenager knew if it was in envy or jealousy.

“But I’m impressed MK,” Mei playfully punched his shoulder, “look at you being all smart about medicine.”

“Well I hear Dad mutter on and on about different types of herbs and their properties on a day to day basis, that it eventually gets stuck in my head you know,” he joked then he paused as an interesting thought occurred to him, “wait a moment.”

They all watch MK have a silent conversation to himself, complete with waving hands, multiple facial expressions, draw a few sketches on his notepad, and finish with a final glow of his eyes as he leaped up in the air.

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?” The owner said.

“Why didn’t I think of this before!”

“Think of what before?” The historian asked.

“It was seriously in front of me this entire time!”

“MK, I swear if you don’t tell us what’s up right now I am not liable to my next actions,” Mei threatened.

“I can be a Doctor!” He leaned forward in excitement, “or at least something along those lines!”

“You can be pop’s assistant!” Mei started to get excited alongside him, “how the hell did I not think of it either?!”

“I don’t know!”

“It does suit you,” the demon agreed. He knows the kid is smart, he has seen his grades, so it’s not far fetched to assume that he can do this rigorous task. “Hope you have good study habits, I know mines was absolute garbage back in school.”

“With notecards and all,” MK hates studying, his brain goes brrr during those times, but he can’t thank Yanyu and Bohai enough for teaching him different tricks to help keep focus. “Now I’m thinking maybe of being a pharmacist, cause I don’t think I do well with surgery.”

“There are also the ones who diagnose the disease using the X-ray thingie,” she snapped her finger as she tried to remember.

“Radiologist,” Tang called out.

“Yeah that!” She pointed to him.

“Ooo that also sounds interesting,” MK and Mei continued their animated talk as both adults watched.

“It’s nice to see them so happy,” the noodle lover let out a content smile as he drank some more of his tea.

“I hear that,” Pigsy then looked at the man cup in confusion, “by the way you’ve been drinking, I thought you would have already been finished by now.”

“With my first cup yes, I’m on my third one now.”

“How in the-I didn’t even see you leave this area!”

“Magic tea is magic,” was all Tang said.

Pigsy exploded, “That doesn’t explain shit!”

“Well too bad,” he gave a loud slurp once more.

SLURPPP

“You know what, two can play that game,” the human was confused when the pig demon got up and left the room. He was no longer confused as he came back with a cup of tea in hand.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tang threatened the pig.

The pig looked him straight in the eye and, with a sly smirk, drank down the tea.

SLURRPP

“You heathen!” He shrieked as he banged his hands on the counter and stood up, “how dare you drink my magic tea!”

“Well next time don’t be rude as fuck!” He shot back and got in his face as well.

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Says the freeloader!”

“Oh here we go again! You know, if you wanted some tea you could have asked!”

“My stove, my cups, my pot, mine.”

“But it was made for me!”

“Yeah well-wait hold up, you feel better right,” Pigsy dropped his screaming as he softly asked his friend, “no drill pounding in your head?”

“Yeah I’m fine now, it really does work miracles,” Tang also lowered his voice.

“That’s good.”

“…they really do act like an old married couple,” Mei announces, MK facepalmed as both adults separated from each other and yelled.

“WE ARE NOT!”

“I’m really sorry about such short notice,” the panda bear demon on call apologized once more to Macaque as he was quickly gathering his ingredients.

“Don’t apologize, shit like this happens,” he waved him off, “I’ll take me a couple of days, a week at max, but I’ll be there before the poison reaches its peak.”

“Thank you,” the panda bowed to him.

“Make sure to store away any semblance of caffeine, alcohol, or anything high in potassium, those are the fastest ways to speed up the process,” he instructed him.

“I’ve been meaning to take away Mink coffee stash, now I have a reason,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Will do bossman,” he hung up the call and called another number as he continued to pack. Once it picked up he put a smile on his face, “Hey Comet, how’s it going?”

“Good!” The twenty year old happily responded. “You wouldn’t believe it, but the classes are actually kinda easy to understand. They’re still tricky, especially the tests, but Yanyu was right about you teaching this. It made almost all my classes so much easier thanks to you.”

“Aww, that’s another one for my ego,” he joked then he put on a more serious tone, “but I didn’t just call you here for a chat kiddo.”

“Why what’s up? Is there something wrong?” MK suddenly asked as he leaned in, “Do I have to get Mei here and help kick some asses?!”

“Snrk, no nothing like that,” he let out a snort, “you know Po right?”

“Yeah, he’s the panda demon who comes in to get pain relief, muscle relaxants, and other types of medicine for his students? Does this have something to do with him?”

“Close, his disciples messed up big time and accidentally inhaled a bunch of toxic fog when they faced off against an elephant demon.”

“How can an elephant make poison?” MK questioned.

“Magic can do the weirdest of things, I mean I’m a monkey that can do shadow magic,” he pointed out.

“True, okay so he’s gonna come over to pick up the antidote? I don’t see what’s the big problem?”

“Here’s the bad part, Po can’t make a round trip, cause the time he gets back, all of his students…might not be alive,” he gently told him.

“…oh, so what’s gonna happen?”

“Well, I’m going to have to make a house call, which means I'm gonna have to go away for a bit and it’s pretty far, so I won’t be able to hear you.”

“…okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!” MK gave a big grin to him, “Don’t you worry bout a thing! I’m an adult now Dad, I will be just fine!”

“You have grown up,” he gave a gentle smile, “I’m glad to hear that, but remember to call if there’s any trouble. I may be far, but I will come running if you need it.”

“I will! Now finish packing and save some lives!”

“I will, I’ll see you in two weeks shooting star.”

“See ya later old man!”

Macaque hung up the call with a smile as he resumed his packing. He wished he could have hugged his kid goodbye, but he was in a time crunch as he zipped everything up and quickly jumped out of the treehouse and began to move within the shadows of the trees.

He really does love his shadow powers during these times.

“Duh du Duh,” MK hummed out as he danced his way over to the food delivery destination with the headphones blaring in his ears. He then lifted it to call out the order name when he heard a silky voice interrupt.

“It feels like I waited for an eternity for this moment, is everything in order?”

“Just making the final adjustment mother,” another voice replied and this is when he opened his eyes to see that this was no ordinary food order as an ominous group stood before him.

“Nope,” he immediately whispered as he silently jetted off to hide behind a pile of rocks, but he peaked his head carefully out to see and his eyes widened.

“Finally after all this time,” the woman continued.

‘No way.’

“We have the means to lift Monkey King staff.”

‘It is!’

Standing before them all, wrapped in vibrant viridian vines and burrowed underneath a garden left untouched by the destruction laid around it, was the legendary Monkey King staff.

Things were about to get interesting.

No joke, the delivery scene with the lady is something I had to experience before. There are people who truly treat food workers lower than dirt, which is stupid to me cause why would you disrespect the people making your food? It’s like insulting the people who manage your money.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #six eared macaque #macaque #PlumTeaAU

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