#I might draw him poofing up
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Sopping wet little beast in your inbox, he is not amused
It's okay, Killer said he was going to help him get dry really quick!
(Sorry I just love this little guy dearly)
Hahah, he's so cute lmao. I love how you draw him, very unamused
Poor little guy. Killer's like a little kid with a cat, when they don't know not to push boundaries 😭 bitty cross is suffering
Bet he poofs up after (dunno if you've ever seen Zarla's fluffy skeleton headcanon but like that)
(Don't be sorry you make my day) :]
#love little beasts in my inbox#I might draw him poofing up#I need to draw so much stuffff#grrrr i don't have enough time#literally can't wait for summer when I'll have all the time in the world#answered asks
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it's Hiiid, i finally finished this hfhvs
#art#my art#artists on tumblr#digital art#oc#pink space#hello !!!#i've finally settled on a design for under the mask lol :3333#i want to make a more detailed full-body for that later but i Finally made a fricken ref for him YESS#ignore any issues that might Be. the complications are real man hvhksfhvksj#/gonna do Kira next if i don't get distracted or demotivated lol!!! can't wait :DDDD#/the curled-up pose might be my favorite pose to draw‚ truly hfvsh#i couldn't figure out how to draw tight poses like that until like.. i think late last year or early this year#they're so fun!! :D#//oh and when i finish with all the refs i want to do a lineup#so like. pray for me hhfvabhfjas#//in the meantime. poof pow i'm gone now :3
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Dustin’s crying so loud, Steve can barely hear when Eddie speaks, “trust me, Stevie?”
Eddie’s never called him that before. Eddie coughs again, bloody, and it spatters his lips and stains in between his teeth, mutely, Steve nods.
Eddie grabs Steve by the collar of his own denim jacket, pulling himself up and Steve down. He’s surprisingly strong considering Steve is absolutely certain that Eddie’s about to die. That’s what makes Steve close his eyes and open his mouth; lets Eddie have whatever he wants. Invites it when Eddie invades with a wet and bloody tongue. It’s a battle of a kiss, and Steve soaks it up.
Eddie disappears from under Steve’s hands, and he almost falls forward, Eddie disintegrating into a cloud of fiery ash. It settles, and in the middle, there’s an egg.
It’s shocking enough that Dustin stops crying, “what the fuuuuuck?” Dustin reaches for the egg, pulls his hand back, hissing, sucking his fingers.
Steve reaches for it next, “it’s too hot,” Dustin tries to warn him...but it isn’t. It’s pleasantly warm in Steve’s hand and he lifts it comfortably.
They take it with them.
They have absolutely no fucking explanation for what the hell just happened. Steve, instinctively, refuses to put the egg down anywhere. He sits, staring at it, cataloguing the slightly speckled pattern, watching how it catches the light as he turns it in his palms, pale and diffuse in the lamplight of the lounge.
He doesn’t really like other people touching it, but allows Robin to brush it with her fingertips; she draws them back sharply, hissing, blisters already forming. He carries it with him, even going so far as to showering one handed so he can hold it. He curls around it that night in bed and isn’t even worried that he might accidentally break it; he knows he won’t.
They have a day to recuperate, the party all together again, and safe; Vecna is defeated.
Eddie has one living relative that everyone knows about; Wayne Munson. It’s the only possible place they may get some answers; the trailer is just...gone. They contact Hopper, who contacts Owens, and an hour later he calls Steve back. The trailer was impounded by Owens team to study the damage and now closed gate inside; Wayne Munson is in a Motel.
Everyone piles into the beemer.
Wayne looks sallow when he opens the door, distraught, but in a kind of worn in way. Like he’s already accepted it. No one speaks, they just watch as Steve produces the egg, cupped carefully in his hands. Wayne’s face crumples, his eyes well up, and he pulls Steve into a hug, “thank you. I thought I’d lost him, thank you.”
“Okay,” Steve replies, “but we have no idea what’s going on.”
Wayne shoos them into the room. There’s two doubles, Dustin, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan climb onto the still made bed; not the one that’s clearly been slept in. Wayne sits at the foot of his bed, Steve remains standing, carefully cradling the egg.
“He never told you what he is?”
Everyone on the bed is staring at Wayne wide eyed, Steve almost laughs at them, but he’s too busy shaking his head at Wayne.
Wayne nods, scratching his head, “so how long have you and my Eddie been seeing each other?”
Everyone on the bed turns to look at Steve instead, eyes, if anything, even wider, “we...aren’t. That’s not. We’re not…” The egg pulses hotly in Steve’s hands; for a brief moment, it’s unpleasant.
“You must be something, or you wouldn’t be able to touch his egg. Bound in blood?”
“There was blood, he was coughing up blood...when he was dying and he…”
“They kissed,” Dustin interjects, super unhelpful, “right before Eddie…” Dustin makes the form of an explosion with his hands, “you know, went poof.”
Wayne nods, “it’s enough, this time, for Eddie to come back. But if you don’t complete the bond, he won’t last long. Eddie must love you a hell of a lot.”
“Love me?” Steve asks weakly.
“Yeah,” Wayne says, “phoenix’s mate for life, and they won’t come back for anything less.”
There’s a long, drawn out silence, before Steve, finally offers a weak, “we hardly even know each other.”
“Eddie knows. A phoenix always knows. And you have to complete the bond, or he won’t be able to stay.”
“What?” Dustin asks, panicked, “what do you mean, stay?”
Wayne shrugs, “a phoenix, rejected by their mate, will burn up from the inside. He’ll wither and die unless Steve...reciprocates.”
Steve, weak limbed, just gives up and sits on the floor.
“What about you, Mr. Munson, are you a phoenix?” Dustin’s going to start in with fifty million questions. Steve’s kind of glad, gives him a moment to sit here and...stroke Eddie’s egg.
“Nah, I’m his dad’s brother. Him mom was the phoenix; that’s how she died. My brother wasn’t the best of guys and when he fucked it up...she died. Didn’t take long. Eddie’s a half breed, they can see it on sight, so the other phoenix, they rejected him. He’s been with me ever since. Not human enough to fit in here, not...good enough for them.”
Dustin looks affronted on Eddie’s behalf, “that’s not fair, Eddie’s a great guy. They’re...prejudiced, Eddie’s better off without them, anyway.”
Wayne hums agreeable, “they put a lot of stock in their feathers, what they look like. His mom knew at birth he’d never be accepted, but we had to try after she died. I’d hoped that they would take pity on him but...no. They said his colors were an ill omen.”
“What’s wrong with his colors? What colors? Eddie doesn’t even have feathers.”
“He will when he hatches, and they’ll be black as night.”
Steve figures it’s been around seventy nine ish hours when the first crack appears in the shell. He has no idea if there’s a significance to the amount of time, but he doesn’t interfere. He just turns the volume of the television down low and sits and watches, fascinated, as the crack widens and little, damp, black chick gets itself free. The inside of the shell shines like dark mother of pearl; like an oil slick.
Steve already knows he will hide the egg away and treasure it forever. He had sworn again and again to Dustin that the second Eddie showed signs of hatching, Steve would call him. He couldn’t though. He just couldn’t. Something in him screamed loudly that it would be wrong. It would be so wrong for someone else to be here.
He decides to let them have one night together, just him and the tiny, feather light ball of blackness sitting on his thighs. He’ll call Dustin in the morning.
Steve tries to put Eddie down to go to the bathroom before bed; Eddie chirps miserably the whole time. He walks around on top of the comforter once Steve is in bed, and Steve watches in the lamplight as the tiny chick negotiates the mountains and valleys of Steve's bedding. He falls asleep finally, bored of exploring, nestled against the side of Steve’s neck.
“You said you’d call!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just it was late and-”
“He’s so big!”
“Yeah,” Steve replies. Nothing else to say really. Eddie seemed to have quadrupled in size overnight. He’s now the size of a chicken, covered in long, sleek black feathers. He has a long neck for his size, and his tail feathers sweep along the ground as he follows at Steve’s heels.
“Are you going to go and see Wayne?”
Eddie tilts his head at the sound of his uncles name, watching from his perch on the kitchen counter. Steve had tried him with a bowl of dry cereal, but Eddie had merely pecked at it a couple of times before ignoring it. Steve had added milk and eaten it himself.
“Nah,” Steve replies absently. The thought of leaving the house is...well. Steve doesn’t like it.
The next day, Eddie is the size of a very large turkey and his head, thanks to the long neck, can almost stretch to the height of Steve’s shoulder. When Steve sits on the couch, Eddie flaps up to sit on Steve’s lap, long neck winding around Steve’s, his head looping around to rest on Steve’s chest. His eyes are warm brown, just like Eddie’s human eyes, and Steve isn’t even a little worried about the huge talons or wickedly sharp beak.
On the seventh day, Steve wakes to find a man in his bed with him. He sighs with relief, pulling Eddie closer and whispering, “hello sweetheart,” into his fluffy hair.
Steve assumed they had time, he had hoped they could get to know each other; that Steve could do this properly, but by lunch Eddie is looking tired and has gray hairs at his temples so Steve simply says, “I love you, too,” over coffee and toast and hopes that it’s enough.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#the party#magic eddie munson#creature eddie munson#headcannon#steddie#steddie headcanon
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October Sun
summary: Xavier had been acting cagey for weeks, a fact you hadn't had the heart to address since Maddie's disappearance. but with his dubious return to school and how he loitered in the periphery of Nicole and Simon's orbit, you thought it was about time to get answers. too bad one pale, cow-eyed jock had other plans.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.
i had some serious technical issues with these parts, so my fingers are crossed that everything worked!
bon reading, frens
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.5
You felt foolish, dressed like a Parisian cat burglar, but you hadn't exactly spent your night strategizing how to avoid Wally Clark come morning. Instead, you'd pored over several small, ratty books that outlined possible explanations for human-ghost attraction.
Not the kind of attraction that makes your heart beat love songs, but the kind that draws elements together. The scientific kind that had nothing to do with what the shape of Wally's mouth might feel like against various pulse points.
Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side. You'd managed to slip from one class to the next unnoticed, only seeing the shy boy with the glasses and the spacey girl who roosted atop the library return bins. No towering athlete with big hands and bedroom eyes.
Jesus, girl, get a grip, you chided yourself in a voice that eerily resembled Mathilda's.
Mathilda, who you'd managed to waylay that morning by dragging her into the girls' bathroom and holding her hostage until Xavier had texted you the OK. Mathilda who'd spent the time before and after History barking insults at people who'd thought it'd been a good idea to share their opinions of Xavier aloud.
What she lacked in height, she sure as hell made up for in loyalty and intimidation. Qualities you admired and wished you could emulate. If Mathilda had chaotic, ancestral ghost powers, she wouldn't let herself be pushed around by the idea of a ghost getting the better of her.
No. She'd probably browbeat the ghost into submission and get on with her day. No swarms or storms or ectoplasmic squalls; no mother eventually stepping in to fix her daughter's mistake, cursing I told you over and over again because, yeah, she had. Sadly, Mathilda didn't share your abilities and couldn't chase Wally away on your behalf.
Frustrated, you shoved the hood of your uncle's sweater over your head and yanked the drawstrings, encasing yourself in a void of soft fabric.
It sucked. You didn't want Wally chased away. You just wanted him never to figure out that you could see, hear, or wholly and completely interact with him...Which would result in him eventually giving up or losing interest and never seeking you out again, as he'd done in your sophomore year. And you wanted that even less.
When had 'don't tell anyone' become so complicated?
Naturally, you didn't want to get your mother involved. Were wholeheartedly determined to weather the storm alone. Had been doing a decent enough job of it until yesterday, despite some minor missteps here and there. But if Wally remained steadfast in his promise ("I'm not going anywhere until you admit it"), she'd find out—she always found out—and you'd never see him again. Poof. Gone. Disintegrated into the ether; his beautiful, summer-sun soul vanished from the earth as if he'd never existed.
You couldn't let that happen.
"How's the undercover operation?" Xavier's voice penetrated the dead air from somewhere above you.
You groaned in response, loosened your hood and pushed it off to stare up at him, likely making a pitiful picture with staticky hair and a pout.
He prompted you with a twitch of an eyebrow, you rolled your eyes; he grinned, you untucked your knees from your chest and opened yourself up to invite Xavier to sit with you on the library floor.
"Who are you hiding from, again?" He asked, making himself comfortable across from you between the shelves of autobiographies—the section furthest from the door.
You teased him with a delicate smile, "No questions, remember?"
"Normally, I'd respect the hell out of that, but I feel like I should be concerned." He regarded you carefully, eyes flitting between yours as if he could summon your secrets through them. "I don't have to kick the shit out of anyone, do I?"
"I love you, Zav, and, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the thought," You really did, "but, trust me, it's not that deep."
"Okay...and how many lunches do you plan to have in the back of the library?"
"As many as I need to." You replied vaguely. He bit his lip to stop a smile and nodded. "I'm good, Xavier, I swear. I just need some space right now." You weren't going to fabricate a lie for him. Anyone else, yeah, water off a duck's back, but Xavier? It toed a line you weren't comfortable crossing.
While not entirely placated by your statement, Xavier respected it, getting back to his feet and shouldering his backpack. As he was about to round the bookshelf and leave you to your business, he paused.
"You'd tell me, right?" He peered at you over his shoulder, "If things were bad...you'd tell me?"
Without hesitation, "Yes," you assured.
His expression relaxed, "Thanks."
Xavier didn't leave the library altogether, simply walked away to give you the space you'd said you needed.
For awhile, you occupied yourself with homework—notebook in your lap and Frankenstein open beside you—taking advantage of your free period to catch up on what you'd put aside last night. It would've been a good use of your time, except...your uncooperative brain kept ambling back to Wally. To his puppysoft brown eyes; his cocky, boyish grin. Then to how he'd glided his fingers up your spine and had made your blood surge.
Shit. God. No. Stop that!
Growling inwardly, you shifted to your knees, notebook sliding to the floor, and grabbed your backpack. Dragged it toward you so you could pack up and find another place to sequester yourself. A change of scenery might help prevent your brain from tap dancing into very bad no good territory.
The pen you'd been using had rolled away when you'd repositioned yourself, now sat at the end of the aisle. Standing, you went to retrieve it when you heard someone who sounded a lot like Nicole mutter an apology. Peeking around the bookshelf, you caught sight of her as she hurried out of the library, phone in hand.
What's that about?
Before you could apprehend it, you saw movement in the corner of your eye. Xavier reshelved the book he'd been flipping through and made a hasty exit, clearly intending to follow Nicole.
Well. Now you had to know. You swooped over to your backpack, double-checked that you hadn't forgetten anything, and strolled as fast as you dared after them.
Completely unaware that, beyond the school walls, the specter you'd cosplayed Sid Vicious to avoid was gleefully running amok.
💀___________________________
PART FOUR - PART SIX
note: next part is all Wally being about as subtle as a neon sign 💀 he's too cute, i need to give the babe hugs and snugs and dry smacky kisses all over his lil' face 💕 but that's a PART SEVEN problem 😏
if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please join the tag list!
#Milo Manheim#Wally Clark#Wally Clark x Reader#fem!reader#Wally Clark smut#Wally Clark fanfiction#Milo Manheim fanfiction#School Spirits#October Sun
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AHAAA I FINISHED IT WOAHHH i usually don't finish art things omg...
Anyways current sabre design!!! (It will probably change bc I can NEVER make up my mind on any design ever sob)
He's such a goof :3 (IM NEVER DRAWING THAT RAINBOW ELYTRA AGAIN IM CRYING)
Anyways some headcanons below cuz I feel like yapping :3
-rainbow totally would have gotten him and sabre friendship necklaces (yk the matching kind with magnets that come together n all) and after knowing lucas for a bit he woulda made friendship bracelets !!
-like that one person I reblogged said, he's such a mad scientist he's so silly omgg
-i love the reincarnation au SO MUCH its literally fire but in normal headcanons I think he used to be part of the creed and an assasin and ermm
Basically I headcanon his whole assassins creed series was basically his backstory before starting to do research on these 'steve' entities
-when nervous/anxious his footsteps will be completely silent out of habit from the whole assassin thing, and he'd obviously do it when purposefully trying to sneak (he has probably scared rainbow or Lucas multiple times by doing this..)
-I'm not sure weather to headcanon that his wings were damaged by a steve really early on in the steve saga (like before rainbow could speak or maybe when dark was still pretending to be blue) or if it was smth that happened when he was still an assassin but it's one of those!!!
-hes an avian.. heh... if u couldn't tell from the ref sheet.. but NOT a chicken!! The chicken jokes are just bc of the hoodie and bc his feathers look a lil similar :3
-he has like 2 of the same chicken hoodie he'll wear most often but still has some normal outfits AND assassins outfits and weapons he keeps away (most are green or have some sort of green in them heh.. I might draw that later)
-ok ok ok I have so many eye headcanons it's so hrggrrrrh the main one tho is one I snatched from the reincarnation au and that's that he doesn't have eyes!! Bc of an injury or sum and he js says he has sensitive eyes and the bandana fabric is see through up close.. but he can still see bc he's a player and the way players work is weird. Other headcanon, green eyes. Other headcanon, brown eyes. Other headcanon, heterachromia green and brown eyes. Other headcanon pure white eyes. Other headcanon code eyes. Other headcanon (gets hit by a bus)
-if we r going with the reincarnation au for the eyes, I feel like only rainbow and Lucas would know, if we're going with the others, I'd say rainbow, Lucas, Alex, galaxy, and maybe the guardian (I forgot if that's what he was called or not) would know. If we're going with the code eyes, then only lucas would know
-not sabre specifically but I feel like steves in general wouldn't be very used to or know but about blood/gore stuff, bc they're more used to being destroyed/poofing, and later on being destroyed through a machine. Being actually killed by a sword or something of the sort they are not used to seeing, and are very touchy on the subject
-on that note I imagine if there's like a steve that's immune to most or all other steve powers and or machines that they're trying to get rid of and arguing on what to so abt I imagine sabre being like "oh 1 sec I got this" and boom that mf DEAD 😭
-and they'd b like 😰
"Guess we're gonna have to kill this guy sabre" "damn"
-ermmm silly billy activity...
-I feel like he'd know a lot more than the other steves on things like the nether and end (not end city tho that's a whole other mc headcanon I don't feel like yapping abt rn) bc those are the dimensions players have access too and steves usually dont.. so they'd b like "WTF SABRE WHAT R U DOING THAT IS A LITERAL HELLSCAPE WITH LAKES OF FIRE AND MONSTERS WEVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE FYM U CAN GET 'NETHERITE' THERE" and he'd b like "well don't go in the fire then and it anything attacks u kill it ig" (not actually sob.. I feel like only he and Lucas would go there bc most steves r hindered greatly by lava and the only ones we've seen that aren't are bad guys if my memory is correct)
Ermm I have more but I'm eepy and can't remember so those r for another day!!!
Reblogs>likes
Don't post my art to other platforms without my permission pls x3
#favremysabre#favremysabre steve saga#the steve saga#steve saga#rainbow steve#lucas#headcanons#headcanon#stitch art#:3#digital art#art#my sabre design !#the rot is consuming rn#if u wanna see my designs and headcanons for other characters#then go vote on my poll 😈😈😈#praying this doesnt flop sighhhh
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“Hey, Leo and I talked to some of you before, do you think you can help us find him? Please, we lost our poll and we might have to leave soon. We can’t leave him behind. We just can’t.”
(You wanted more angst!? Here it is!)
Reference for the edit/trace under here
I didn't have time to draw a full comic, but here's the bois response!
"Absolutely! You can count on us!"
"With Michelangelo's help, I may be able to use my ninpo to track him."
"My uranium-powered tech and I are at your service."
"I know how scary being alone is... Raphael is here to help!"
"Anything for a fellow Leo. The dude taught me close-up magic."
"Misa and I will help, too! I could poof around and look for him..."
"Lee-Lee!"
Prev || Next
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt karai#rottmnt raph#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt leo#rottmnt april#rottmnt misa#until i found you#until i found you au#rottmnt until i found you#no fun in fungus#fear spores#fear fungus#tmnt au#tmnt au propaganda#tmnt au competition#tumblr asks
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follow up/ response to the facial hair ask. can you imagine how silly Price would look if his mutton chops poofed out the sides of one of ghosts masks. I cant imagine Johnny or Gaz would ever let him forget. Ghost might do his silly lil giggle like his voiceline about Price escaping the gas.
Price would never live that down. They would make fun of him constantly. He thinks they've forgotten? Nope!! They'll just randomly start laughing at him because they thought of it again 😂 Johnny definitely has a drawing of it somewhere and pulls it out occasionally to giggle at it.
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Stan, kyle, kenny and craig w a gn reader whos an artist/painter who has tons of paintings/drawings of them and gets popular bc of their paintings/drawings
Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Craig with an artist s/o🎨🖌️🖼️
YEESSSS THE SMALL GIFS AND PICTURES ARE FIXED LETS GOOOOOO!
Warnings: None
Gender: Neutral
💙 Stan Marsh 🐕
Oh he's definitely blushing, and I mean literally.
If you have a room or a secret gallery you keep all of your paintings in, half of the place would have been filled with paintings of Stan and when he sees those paintings, he absolutely gets butterflies in his stomach.
"Ah....(Name)......", He has no words 🥺
His friends would probably also tease him because half of your paintings you made are about him besides your other ones.
Stan really loves the paintings you made of him and he might keep one of them in his room (If you let him)
But he would probably blush every single time he looks at the painting though.
You would also probably sell your paintings to people, but you ain't selling the ones you made of Stan. Those are yours to keep and nobody else can have them except you or Stan :) 💙💙💙💙💙
💚 Kyle Broflovski 💐
Not Kyle just admiring your paintings while you're not looking. He tryna be sneaky but you caught him :>
Kyle would find it a bit strange that most of your paintings are about him, but he isn't complaining. Who wouldn't want to see an art portrait of themselves that was made by their s/o?
You even have some paintings where Kyle doesn't have his hat on. Gotta be honest, if you were planning to sell your paintings Kyle probably wouldn't like you selling the ones that have him without his hat on, you know how insecure he gets about his hair.
But it is YOUR paintings after all and you get to decide what to do with them so Kyle can't stop you on that. But it would make him a bit happy if you didn't sell the ones where his hat isn't on his head.
If your paintings got even more popular, how many cheesy poofs do you wanna bet that Cartman is gonna make fun of you? I'm betting 1000.
He'll probably tell you that you're obsessed with Kyle or he's like your pet or something.
Cartman got paint splattered in his face for that anyways. 💚💚💚💚💚💚
🧡 Kenny Mccormick 🐁
Kenny is definitely going to tease you. Not in a bad way of course.
He thinks it's extremely cute that you like making paintings of him! If he could, he would probably keep like 3 or 4 of your paintings in his room.
But he probably might hide the paintings from his parents just in case they tried to sell your hard work and make money off of it. It's your paintings, not theirs so they don't have the right to sell it.
He will let Karen see the paintings though, and she absolutely loves the paintings of her big brother! She probably might even ask if you could do one of her as well!
If your paintings get popular but somebody teases you for it, they're getting the same fate as Cartman. Nobody makes fun of Kenny's s/o and gets away with it =) 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
💙 Craig Tucker 🐹
He would probably blush a little when he sees all of the paintings you made of him. (He definitely didn't try to pull you into a big hug afterwards-)
His friends would probably be jealous of him if you show off your paintings of Craig to everyone in class.
Craig wouldn't brag about it, but he might slip in some giggles here and there.
Gotta say, if you make a painting of you and him cuddling together. That's definitely going to make his face as red like a tomato, unexpected paintings like that is one of the ways to get Craig in a flustered mess.
Not like he never blushed a lot around you :>
He keeps an expressionless face on the outside but he's secretly burning up on the inside. It also isn't hard to see behind that little blush of his as well if you know him too well.💙💙💙💙💙💛💛💛💛💛
Tumblr: Blaze is now out!
Me: Immediately going to turn it off as soon as I update my app.
#south park x reader#south park#stan marsh x reader#kyle broflovski x reader#kenny mccormick x reader#craig tucker x reader#stan marsh#kyle broflovski#kenny mccormick#craig tucker#artist#paintings#southpark blog#southpark sp#sp x reader#x reader#southpark x y/n#southpark scenarios#southpark headcanons#fluff#fluff headcanons
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pride headcanons and boy do I have a fuckin lot so take your pic ig, (oh yea they’re all transmasc hcs ofc so I’ll just list it)
transmasc Ruto, Botw paya and Zelda, Cia
oh also Botw Zelda and Link are Transmasc for Transmasc, they are very gay and very in love
feel free to draw which one you wanna or not one at all you don’t have to answer this!
this might've made me go a bit insane ok. first thoughts upon seeing this; LACE UP BINDERS T4T BOTW ZELINK HELPING EACH OTHER LACE THEM UP PROPERLY. gotta draw that, might come back to do those other ones though bc boy do I have thoughts about those also !
second thoughts. holy Fucking shit this gives me an excuse to go off about trans masc zelda and how inherently interesting that can be to the entire narrative. and then realizing how amazingly it could mesh with botw zelda's story specifically into a queer retelling.
THANKS ANON THIS ALONE MADE ME ACTUALLY LIKE BOTW ZELINK WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME
zelda's role is to take up the powers of hylia. zelda has always been a girl, a woman. of course all of them would be. hylia is a goddess. the first zelda was hylia's personal vessel.
botw zelda [ going to call him zel here on out in this post for clarity lol ] would have to come to terms with how his feelings don't align with his self-perceived role. at first, he thinks his yearning to be a boy is more to do with hating his responsibilities. i think his relationship with both his gender and his role in destiny is an incredible complicated one because of all of this.
meeting link, the other destined one, probably really fucks him up more. link being a trans boy himself, on a surface level, one might think would bring zel relief; someone like him, so close to him. but it does the opposite. link has always been a boy. this link, being assigned female at birth, is a boy as well. to zel, this reaffirms his thoughts that destiny has locked their genders into place.
in general, i don't think transphobia is a huge thing in the loz universe. it's like, a very niche kind of bigotry thankfully. it's MY childhood fantasy games and i get to mostly poof it out. i think the big exception to this would be those associated with destiny, prophecies, and of course, the reincarnation cycle.
zel is pressured to not only be a good daughter and princess, but to take on the powers that should be blessed to him by the goddess herself. everything just drives him further into hating everything, including link early on.
a big part of zel being able to actually unlock his powers would be both what i think happens in game [ desperation to protect ] as well as acceptance of himself. zel's inner turmoil over his own identity, where his duty as holder of the triforce of wisdom starts and right to be himself ends.
of course, there's no actual reason for the holder of wisdom to be a woman; as there is none for the holder of courage or power to be a man. it just so happens that it tends to be like that.
i think a retelling like this could add such a strong layer onto zel's character arc. it's so good. augh. thank yuo i hope any of this is somewhat coherent. they kiss in the end
btw i think generally trans masc zeldas go for the name sheik [ thank you OOT sheik you walked so the other tran masc zeldas could run ] but botw zelda specifically would take the scientific name of like, a small critter or plant, and alter it so it sounds kind of like a hylian name. OR just go by 'zel'. or both ! idk.
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imagine enemies to enemies with benefits with eddie bc y'all despise each other but oh man does it make for good sex 😌
nah bc sorry i just have many thoughts abt this:
tags: 18+ graphic smut, hate sex, filth be warned, enemies to lovers hello best trope!!!!
Eddie doesn’t want to admit he’s jealous. He really doesn’t. It’s not because you’re the new girl in town, with her own (successful is an exaggeration) rock band and supposed trail of male groupies, and definitely not because you’re showing him up at his only apparent talent ever — guitar. No, definitely not. Surely, he isn’t jealous of your gorgeous head of hair and badass stick-and-pokes. Hell, everything about you just screams ‘Eddie Munson 2.0’, but with an 80s femme fatale look that’s so, so much better than whatever he’s got going on.
Cherry bomb, alright. Riot girl to the max. Anarchistic feminist. Chains, leather, platform boots and ripped fishnets with pretty knees.
He isn’t jealous. But he’s allowed to not like you.
He’s allowed to not like you, but on the contrary, he’s also allowed to fuck you even if the admiration isn’t there. A dilemma quite chaotic for the times. A mutual agree-to-disagree and untamable bratty behavior. An exchange of hate accompanied by a soulful exchange of sex. It’s a win-win, with the weirdest odds ever.
Eddie sports a scowl as you straddle his lap. He’s manspreading in the back of his van, blankets and pillows strewn about as his arms rest along the leather seats in the front.
“You liked my gig tonight?” You quirk an interested brow, hiking your denim miniskirt over your hips as you line his manhood up with your entrance.
He scoffs, an awful joint dangling from his lips as you tease the tip of his cock. “Abhorred it. The Billy Idol cover? Eardrums went poof! Bled everywhere.”
“Aw, bunny.” You chuckle, holding his intense stare as you lower yourself onto him. You reach back and cup his balls, pouting as his jaw ever-so-subtly clenches at the sensation. “Next time… I’ll be sure to sing some Ozzy, dedicate it to my favorite man in the crowd.”
Eddie’s head falls back, his hands instantly gripping onto your hips for leverage. “O-Oh?” You roughly bite at his earlobe, not enough to draw blood but enough for him to feel the sting. “And who might that be?”
“Mmm… Jim Hopper.” You whisper raspily, tits bouncing in Eddie’s face as you set the pace. “Sorry, Munson. It’s the daddy issues.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and ride me harder, Y/N.” He flicks his blunt aside, harshly pulling your mouth down to his. His fingertips are nonetheless bruising to your skin, rings digging into your soft and sweaty flesh as you grind onto his lap. He can’t help but moan into the kiss, grunting against your glossy lips when you squeeze around him. “F-Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight.”
“And you’re not nearly putting in enough effort as I am.” You smirk, nails digging into his back muscles as he abruptly maneuvers you onto your side. With his cock still buried deep inside, Eddie’s hips snap up into you, juices coating the insides of your thighs as he spreads you open. “Shit! Mmm, okay! Okay, I take it b-back. Ow, fuck, that’s my cervix.”
“Sorry, sorry. Christ, stay still. Fucking hell, man.”
You bite down on Eddie’s knuckles, screwing your eyes shut when he finds that spongy spot inside you once again. “Hey, first to cum has to buy t-the other person a milkshake.”
“D-Deal.” He breathes out, clasping a hand over your shoulder and tugging you against him with every aching thrust. His eyes roll back into his head when you start clenching rhythmically around him, a trick you’ve learned over the months of fucking Eddie behind everyone’s backs. “Stop that, you.”
“Stop what?”
“Your — Y/N, please… this… can’t take it when your cunt is — is milking me like this. S’not fair.”
You grin back at him, wheezy and out of breath. “Oh, I know it’s not fair. That’s why I do it.”
“Y/N…”
“Milkshake sounds so good right now, doesn’t it? Just get it over with and cum inside me so we can do a round two in the diner bathroom.”
Eddie laughs in disbelief, thrusts stuttering and hands shaking as his dick starts to pulse inside you. “You’re such a pervert, you know that?”
“Yeah, go talk to a mirror. It’s why you like fucking me in your van, hot stuff.”
It’s safe to say that Eddie bought you that shake at the end of the day. And perhaps, he’s never hated anything more than having to share a burger and fries with you, coupled with the fact you just couldn’t stop talking his ear off about anything and everything.
Although, he’d be a liar if he said that he hadn’t enjoyed the road head you gave him on the way back home.
Maybe an Eddie Munson 2.0 was good for something after all.
#did i go a little off on this#yes#sorry#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#fic request
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What do you think of Nana as a character?
She was really intriguing for me when she was introduced in the Kamino fight. I thought that reveal was a great twist and couldn't wait to find more out about her.
But in the end, I have to say, her character just didn't add up very well for me. She's another one of the "buff, pretty women" who people really love for their design (Nagant, Star, Nana, Mirko), but their characterization relies on a lot of tropes and "cool factor" and remains pretty shallow.
The bits and pieces we get from Nana just feel like a lot of wasted potential instead of really digging into an important theme of the story - the pain caused by self-sacrifice for the people left behind.
She is kind of a contradictory person: she tries to hide her son to protect him and cut him off from the hero world but at the same time she burdens another child - All Might - with OFA and the fight against AFO, but leaves him with at least some support. Gran Torino supporting Toshinori helps him rise and her forbidding GT to look after Kotaro is a factor in his spiral.
Hero Nana feels like all the tropes of "badass woman hero": she grins at AFO in her death, talking about how All Might will take him down, also telling a young Toshinori to keep smiling because that's what makes him "strong". And ironically, that smile to Tomura becomes the symbol of everything he hates about hero society, pretending not to see the suffering they cause or simply ignore.
Hero Nana seems like someone who successfully compartmentalized Mother Nana and shut her inside a box when she gave up her son for adoption and seems to have severed that part of herself until the end. The feelings of guilt only come after she sees what Tomura has become.
Vestige Nana with her "testing of Izuku" and "can you kill Tomura - oh I was just kidding" is also tropey as hell. I would have preferred some real introspection, or at least some good interaction with Izuku about the moral dilemma of what to do about Tomura, but Horikoshi is not great with that when it comes to female characters.
So in the end, she is just kind of a crying mess of a vestige, flip-flopping on Tomura's fate. I'd like to say that her finally taking responsibility moved me, but it being between two dead people in vestige land, just doesn't carry the same weight to me (like as opposed to Rei running into the fire).
I always say that Horikoshi is mostly a visual storyteller, and he knows exactly the stuff 99% of his audience wants. I'm in the minority and I actively dislike when I feel like he's trying to manipulate me with sentimental visuals instead of solid storytelling (like last week's episode of Anya x Damien in MHA).
But at least the way he used Nana wasn't too bad - even if it had to be really spelled out for her that leaving her son behind like that was kind of bad for him - hugging and stopping Dreamland Kotaro is stepping up both as mother and hero - reuniting her two halves. She couldn't get through the barrier until she reintegrates the mother into the hero and becomes the hero to save her family. And she is the final piece to help Izuku get through. Thank you. I get the theme. It's about as subtle as a sledgehammer.
I guess it's a decent cap for a character who embodies a key theme. But I think she could have been fleshed out (not just drawing her in a lot of detail), but in actual character nuance and storytelling (things like how she met En, why did she take OFA, her state of mind after losing her husband, etc.)
On another note, it would be nice if this was finally the end of the vestige peanut gallery (I absolutely came to hate their parts in the final fight), but considering Yoichi and Vestige Might just seemed to have gone poof, unfortunately, I wouldn't be surprised to see again all of them.
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rewatching Steven Universe is so wild.
i forgot most of the early seasons. i forgot what pearl and amethyst looked like before Steven Universe the Movie. i love lion so much. pinkest lad, cat.
now to fantasize about Crossovers with current fixations.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steven Universe x Twst
Steven getting transported to Twisted Wonderland, having to deal with a new canned worms.
He has to deal with, like, 7 traumatized teens(?) and them oberbloting.
Lion always finds a way to Steven.
Steven justs uses his shield during all the overblot fights.
Book 1 - He tells Riddle about his mom during the memory sequence, Riddle gets to see Steven's childhood.
Kinda reminds him of Pearl.
Book 2 - 'This might be weird, but, I'll have to spit on you.' proceeds to spit on the injured students during the investigation. Might accidentally cure Trey's blindness like he did Connie's but, that's probably ok.
Kinda reminds him of Amethyst.
Book 3 - He never really had any bullies nor has gone to school to get bullied, but he'll probably asks what it's like going to school with children your age. Is amazed on how much Azul knows. Admires his intelligence.
Kinda reminds him of Connie? She is the only person he hung out with that went to school.
Book 4 - He can't really sympathize with Jamil, as he lived a life like Kalim. Naive and ignorant to the bad things that happened to him, forgiving the people who hurt him just as easily. Criticizing Kalim as well as his younger self.
Reminds him of some gems under the Diamond's rule before.
STEVEN FUSING IN BOOK 5 DURING THE SDC TRAINING. KALVEN, STEACE, DEVEN, STEVMIL, STROOK, VILEVEN, EPLVEN. I REALLY BADLY WANT TO DRAW THESE FUSIONS.
HIM FINDING CONNIE DURING THE FESTIVAL AND SHES GOING TO RSA.
Book 6 - Understanding of Idia's position. Taking on a role you didn't want, but was born into.
Reminds him of Peridot. Especially with their affinity for electronics.
HIM BUBBLING THE BLOT CRYSTALS BEFORE GRIM EATS THEM!!!
Or Gem!Reader
GR being a fusion or just one is up to y'all.
Asking the first years if trauma then oberbloting happens to everyone human.
Asking questions about humans and their anatomy and autonomy.
Probably poofed in one book. Everyone was scared shitless.
'Are humans always this fragile?' <- during Book 2
Called Jamil, Kalim's pearl at least twice.
Excellent dancer and singer. Vil is amazed.
Asking Rook questions in exchange for information on Gems.
Former Corrupted Gem!Reader?
#twisted wonderland#twst#steven universe#steven unvierse au#twisted wonderland crossover#steven universe crossover#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#steven universe x reader
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Falling For the Devil [Part seventy-four: "The Boy's Night at Josie's"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: Matt and Foggy celebrate a win at Josie’s, though their celebration for the firm quickly turns to the pair celebrating something else.
Or
You finally meet Drunk Matt.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence
Word Count: 4.8k
a/n: One of my favorite installments! You get sweet Matt and some saucy, flirty drunk Matt in this one! You can find the entire list of installments available on tumblr here. And if you're enjoying this series, I always appreciate the feedback! Only four more installments left for me to transfer over from AO3 until tumblr is all caught up!
“Oh my God , you should have seen Cantrell’s face during your closing argument!” Foggy gushed excitedly, slapping his hands onto the table. “You could see the exact moment she knew she’d lost the jury. It was like the light just– poof –went right out of her eyes, man!”
Matt chuckled as he nodded, drawing the bottle of beer to his lips for a drink. “Ahh, well. I can certainly envision it with your descriptions.” He paused, taking a pull off the bottle and swallowing the beer down. “You’ve been giving me quite the detailed breakdown about it since we sat down about ten minutes ago.”
“Sorry man, you’re right,” Foggy relented, picking up his own bottle of beer and drawing it to his mouth. “I just got really excited. That was a huge win and it felt damn good.”
“That it did, Fog,” Matt agreed.
Foggy swallowed his drink before shifting in his seat, leaning his elbows onto the table. “I just wish Karen could have come out to celebrate with us tonight,” he said softly. “Feels weird with her not being here after a big win.”
“Well you know she had a date, right?” Matt pointed out.
“Yeah, I know,” he answered. “And I’m happy for her. She seems to like that guy. It just feels weird without her at Josie’s, you know?” he said with a shrug.
“Is Marci coming out?” Matt asked.
Foggy shook his head as he sighed. “Nah, she’s got her own big case coming up. Said she wanted to run over a few notes tonight before she went to bed. What about your girl? She coming out?”
Matt couldn’t help the wide smile that slid across his face as he focused on the table, his fingers drumming along his beer bottle. His girl. God he loved the sound of that. It never got old hearing Foggy call you that.
“No,” he answered. “She was finishing getting something ready for work for later next week with a co-worker.”
“The one who’s obsessed with your ass?” Foggy questioned.
Matt nodded, laughing lightly. “Yeah, that’d be the one,” he replied.
“Huh,” Foggy said. “Guess it’s a boy’s night. Just you and I. We haven’t had one of those in awhile.”
Matt grinned at Foggy beside him. “I don’t think we’ve called it that since college, Fog,” he told him.
“Oh, well, if you want to have one of those nights,” Foggy replied, his tone turning a little mischievous, “we might need to drink a little more. Maybe do some shots.” He reached out, lightly slapping Matt’s arm. “What do you say, buddy?”
Matt paused, giving it some thought. You were supposed to be staying over at his place tonight but you still had that spare key to let yourself in. And you already knew he was coming home later after having drinks with Foggy. He ran a hand over his mouth, contemplating if you’d mind him coming back a bit later being slightly more buzzed than usual. You probably wouldn’t, just as long as he didn’t let Fog go too crazy with the shots.
“Alright,” Matt conceded, though he quickly cut off Foggy’s excited cheer to add, “but I’m not getting drunk tonight.”
Matt could feel the playful grin Foggy was shooting him from across the table. After a moment he relented, unable to fight the smile on his face in return.
“The future Mrs. Murdock staying over tonight?” Foggy asked curiously.
“She is, yes,” Matt said. “She’s still got–”
“AH HA !” Foggy exclaimed.
His excited shout interrupted Matt, his lips still parted from having been cut off mid-sentence. Matt felt the shift of air as Foggy pointed a firm finger right at his chest, the triumphant smile on Foggy’s mouth very apparent to him before his friend barreled on.
“I knew it, man! I knew it!” Foggy roared.
Matt’s brows furrowed, his head tilting to the side. “Knew what?” he asked.
“You want to marry her!” Foggy replied excitedly. “You didn’t deny it just now–that she’s the future Mrs. Murdock! Holy shit, we need to celebrate!”
“Whoa, hey, hold on there,” Matt quickly said, holding up a hand.
Foggy spun in his seat, facing Matt fully as he straightened in his chair. “Tell me I’m wrong,” Foggy demanded. “Tell me you don’t want to marry her, Matt. Go on.”
“Well, I…” Matt began, his voice slowly trailing off.
He couldn’t tell Foggy that because it wasn’t remotely true. He’d told his mother just a couple of weeks ago that very truth, that he so badly wanted to marry you. And he did want that. To permanently be able to call you his girl–his wife –until his dying breath. To spend the rest of his days with you by his side. He wanted to always hear the way you proudly called him yours in return.
Foggy sucked in a sharp breath, the sound drawing Matt back from his thoughts.
“Holy shit, man,” Foggy breathed out, clapping a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “You’re like there there, aren’t you?"
Matt's eyes narrowed curiously behind his glasses at Foggy beside him. "What does that even mean?" he asked.
"Like you're close to picking out a ring and getting down on one knee?" he replied. "Figuring out ways to propose? Thinking about planning a wedding? Actually marrying her?”
Matt drew the beer bottle up to his lips, taking a drink as he let what Foggy said settle in his mind. Was he there there already? He certainly wanted to have you move in first and get settled but…he did have a proposal idea already planned. And he had set aside money for potentially buying an engagement ring soon.
"Yeah, Fog," Matt answered slowly. "I guess I am."
Foggy flung himself forward, wrapping Matt in a hug that took him off guard and almost knocked him out of his seat. Matt was laughing as he hugged his friend back while simultaneously trying to set his beer down without spilling it.
"This is cause for celebration!" Foggy told him. "I never thought you would finally let someone get close enough for you to want to marry them!”
Matt shrugged as Foggy released him from his enthusiastic embrace. He couldn’t fight the smile that lingered on his lips at the thought of you being there every time he came home from work, the store, running around the streets as Daredevil. Everything.
“I never thought I could ,” Matt admitted. “But somehow…I keep finding myself only ever wanting her closer.”
Matt could feel the way Foggy’s heart jumped in his chest as the muscles in his face pulled into an even larger smile at his words. He was genuinely thrilled for Matt, it was obvious.
“I'm happy for you, man," Foggy told him. “Really. You deserve to be happy–and to let yourself be happy.”
"Thanks, Fog," Matt said, the bright smile still on his own face.
Foggy slipped out of his seat beside Matt, clapping a hand to his shoulder yet again. Matt could feel his best friend’s excitement steadily growing.
"We're doing shots," Foggy stated. "This is monumental and we need to properly celebrate it."
“Fog–”
“No!” Foggy said, holding up a hand and quieting his friend. “No, we’re celebrating. Matt Murdock is no longer a bachelor!”
Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not married yet, Fog,” he pointed out.
“Key word being yet , buddy,” Foggy replied, shooting Matt a wink. He turned over his shoulder, facing the bar. “Josie!” Foggy called out. “Josie, pour us something strong! My man is in love and we need to properly commemorate the night he finally admitted it!”
“Just now realizing it, Murdock?” Josie sassed back from behind the bar. “‘Bout goddamn time, you did.”
“Amen to that!” Foggy shouted.
_______
You groaned as you sat on Matt's couch, your laptop in your lap. Slamming your finger on the backspace button, you watched as the words you'd just written slowly disappeared. Ellison had finally given you something real to work on and for some reason the words just felt like they kept coming out wrong.
You ran your hands through your hair in frustration as you stared at the blank screen once again. Why was this so hard to start?
A loud ringing cut through the silence of Matt's apartment and you startled on the couch. Eyes dropping to the time on your laptop, you were shocked to see it was nearing ten at night. Matt usually would have come back from Josie’s by now.
Frowning, you set your laptop on the cushion beside you as you reached forward and grabbed your ringing phone from off the coffee table. You frowned further when you saw it was Foggy. Was something wrong?
"Foggy? What's up? Did something happen?" you asked immediately upon answering the call.
His boisterous voice greeted you with your name and your brows drew up onto your forehead instantly. He'd slurred your name. He was drunk. Did that mean Matt was, too? You'd never seen him drunk before.
"Nothing is wrong, I swear," Foggy told you. "But we may have gone a little too far with the alcohol tonight. Matt might need some help."
You turned on the couch, closing your laptop. "Help? What kind of help?" you asked.
"Getting up to his apartment–"
"Tell her I love her!"
You grinned when you heard Matt's drunken voice in the background cutting Foggy off. He definitely sounded as if he’d had a bit more to drink than usual.
"He says he loves you," Foggy continued. "But he's–he's blind and drunk, y'know? You think you can help?"
"Yeah, I can. Where are you guys?" you asked. "Still at Josie’s?"
"We're uh–" Foggy paused, his voice muffled as he appeared to be talking to a taxi driver.
The phone shuffled loudly and your eyes narrowed at the sound. And then you heard Matt on Foggy’s phone a second later.
"Sweetheart, I love you," Matt said.
Laughing, you rose to your feet and made your way towards the entryway hall. "I love you, too, Matty," you told him.
Bending down, you grabbed your shoes from under the bench where they sat next to Matt’s gym shoes. He sighed loudly on the line, the sound a contented one as you cradled the phone on your shoulder. You settled on the bench and began pulling your shoes on.
"You have the most beautiful voice," Matt continued on. "The voice of–of an angel. Never heard a voice so beautiful, sweetheart."
You felt your cheeks heat at the compliment. "That might be a little bit of an exaggeration–"
" No ," Matt cut you off firmly. "It's not, it's the God's honest truth, sweetie. You–you have–"
"Matt! That's my phone!"
Throwing a hand over your mouth, you tried to stifle your laugh behind it as you heard a drunk Foggy reprimanding a drunk Matt for stealing his phone. There was more shuffling along the line before Foggy was back on the phone. During their brief scuffle you’d gotten up and began making your way out of Matt’s apartment and towards the elevators.
“We’re pulling up to Matt’s building in a moment,” Foggy informed you. “Y’think you can come down and help our boy find his way?”
“Already at the elevator, Fog,” you told him. “I’ll be outside in a minute. Do you think you can both stay out of trouble until then?”
“Pshh, of course!” Foggy exclaimed. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Fog, Fog tell her she has a beautiful voice.”
Biting your lip, you fought back your laughter yet again at Matt’s drunk voice in the background. As you stepped onto the elevator, pushing the button for the main floor, you realized drunk Matt was probably going to be a handful tonight. What sort of a handful still remained to be seen.
“Well, you both did get drunk,” you pointed out, hearing Matt’s insistent muffled voice in the background. “So I mean, not really the best judgment call there. Not to mention, well, Matt’s alter ego.”
“We’ll be fine ,” Foggy assured you. “Taxi just pulled up and–no, Matt, you tell her that! That’s vastly too much information!”
Your cheeks flamed as the elevator doors opened, not entirely sure you wanted to know what drunk Matt was spewing to Foggy in that taxi. Hurrying through the lobby, you made it out the front of the building and immediately spotted the taxi parked outside. Foggy and Matt were still drunkenly arguing with each other so you hung up, slipping your phone into your sweatpants pocket.
Reaching the taxi, you sent the driver an apologetic smile before you knocked on the back window. Foggy jumped in his seat, his head whipping in your direction. When he realized it was you, he smiled wide and opened the door–which hit you in the thigh before you could step back and you grimaced.
“Sorry, sorry!” Foggy quickly apologized.
“It’s fine, Fog,” you told him, a hand rubbing your thigh.
He slid out of the back of the taxi, Matt quickly following behind him. Reaching out, you grasped onto Matt’s wrist as he rose to his feet, directing his hand to your arm. But his other hand quickly landed on your hip as Matt stepped fully into you, his nose nuzzling right into your neck.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
Shifting awkwardly, you tried to peer around Matt at Foggy. He was leaning up against the open taxi door as if he needed it to support his weight.
“You going to be okay making it back home, Fog?” you asked.
He waved a dismissive hand at you in return. “I’ll be fine,” he answered. “You going to be able to get him upstairs on your own?”
“Yeah,” you replied. “Seems like he can stand on his own just fine so it won’t be so– Matt! ”
His hand had slid down your hip and into your sweatpants, palming your ass over your underwear. You felt his mouth draw into a smile against your neck. Foggy pulled a face when he saw what Matt was doing, his hand raising as he sent a quick wave.
“This is where I bid you both goodnight and good luck,” he told you.
“Get home safe!” you called out to him, your hand reaching around to pull Matt’s out of your pants. “Matt, hey, we’re literally on the sidewalk! Hands to yourself!”
“Can’t help myself,” Matt murmured, his hand residing on your lower back, just above the waistband of your sweatpants. “Smell like peaches. And sex.”
You pulled a face, glancing at what you could see of him from where he’d burrowed into your neck. “I smell like what ?” you asked him incredulously.
“Shampoo,” he mumbled against your skin. “Pheromones. Smell really good. And I love your ass,” he told you. “Not afraid to tell you. Or touch it.”
His fingers slipped into the back of your sweatpants again. Your right hand darted around, catching his wrist quickly and pulling his hand back out.
“Okay, how about we get you back upstairs to your apartment, hmm?” you told him quickly.
He sent you a devilish grin as he pulled away from your neck, his brows raising suggestively onto his forehead. “Trying to get me alone, sweetheart?” he teased.
You rolled your eyes, stepping back from him and guiding him back towards his building. “Trying to get you back up to your apartment before you do something too crazy,” you corrected.
Thankfully Matt followed you through the lobby willingly and without much stumbling as you led him back towards the elevators. You pushed the call button and the doors to one of the elevators instantly opened. Guiding Matt inside, you pushed the button for his floor before you felt him release your arm to instead wrap his around your waist, drawing you into him.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, lowering his forehead to your shoulder. “I love you, you know that?”
Glancing down at him, you smiled at the sight of him relaxed along your shoulder, his eyes closed. You reached a hand up, carding your fingers through his hair. He hummed happily in response, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I love you, too, Matt,” you told him.
Gradually you felt his hand lowering on your waist until it was openly groping your ass over your sweatpants. You shot him a pointed look in return, noticing the little smirk on his mouth.
“Matt,” you chided.
“What?” he asked innocently, his hand still kneading your ass.
“Hands to yourself,” you reminded him.
He groaned, his hand sliding back up to your hip just as the elevator doors opened. You led the pair of you back down the hallway to his apartment, Matt clinging to the back of you as you both walked. Opening his door, the two of you entered and Matt wasted no time slipping his dress shoes off of his feet with a sigh.
“Let me get my shoes off,” you told him, slipping them off of your feet, “and I’ll help you to the couch before I get you water.”
Bending down, you grabbed both yours and Matt’s shoes before turning and tucking them under the bench. Before you had a chance to straighten, you felt both of Matt’s large, warm palms on your ass once again openly feeling you up over your sweatpants.
“Can I help you?” you asked over your shoulder.
His covered gaze slid towards your face, his bottom lip slipping back between his teeth. Matt nodded in response, a rumble vibrating in his chest. Rolling your eyes, you stood back up and did your best to ignore the way that look had just affected you.
“Matt, baby, you’re drunk,” you informed him, turning around as his hands fell to his sides. “We’re not doing anything tonight.”
Matt’s head tilted to the side, his covered gaze still on you as his mouth pulled up into a smirk. “I can tell you want me, sweetheart. Your body doesn’t lie.”
His hands both landed on your hips again, pulling you abruptly into him. A gasp of surprise fell out of you as he lowered his forehead to yours. You could smell the faint bit of beer on his breath as he nuzzled his nose into yours.
“I just want to feel you tonight,” he murmured. “Just want to love you, that’s all.”
Breath coming in shallower, you were finding it harder and harder to hold firm with what he was saying to you. If he hadn’t been drunk you’d have been tearing your own clothes off by now.
“Not–not tonight,” you stammered out.
“Just want to make you feel good, sweet girl,” he whispered, his hands snaking their way back down to your ass and pressing your hips against his solid body. “Want to take care of you. Always want to take care of you.”
You licked your lips, trying hard to control yourself, especially as Matt’s own hips ground forward into you. Trying to keep your eyes from fluttering shut at the feel of him, you exhaled a deep breath and tried to stay calm and collected. As good as that all really sounded, you weren’t going to have sex with Matt when he was this drunk. It didn’t feel right.
“Not tonight, baby,” you whispered back.
His mouth lowered beside your ear, his lips brushing the skin and raising goosebumps along your arms as he spoke. “I always take care of my girl,” he purred. “Always take real good care of you, sweet girl.” His mouth lowered, planting a lingering kiss along your neck. “You know I do,” he said against your skin, a shiver running down your spine. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
“Not when you’ve drank so much,” you replied, voice wavering. It took everything inside of you to step back out of his hold instead of grinding back up into him. “Let’s get you to the couch. I’ll get you some water.”
He expelled a deep sigh, his hands stopping their groping of your ass. Matt let you grab his hand and lead him down the entryway hall and towards his couch. He plopped down onto it before you headed into his kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. You made your way back to him on the couch, offering the glass out to him. It took a few tries for him to find the glass, something you found curious and assumed was due to the alcohol affecting his senses. Once he’d grabbed a hold of it, he drew it to his mouth and downed it quickly. You accepted the empty cup from him and set it on the coffee table behind you. When you turned back around, you eyed his disheveled work clothes.
“How about I help you get ready for bed?” you offered. “Sound good?”
He shot you a cheeky smile from the couch. “That depends,” he answered. “What are we doing in bed?”
“Sleeping, Matt,” you said firmly. Bending over, you grabbed onto his hands and tugged at them from his place on the couch. “Come on drunk devil, let’s get you to bed.”
With a groan he rose back up to his feet, following after you to the bedroom. You flipped on the light as you entered before turning and focusing on Matt. Taking off his glasses, you reached over to set them on the top of the nearby dresser. And then your hands worked swiftly, beginning to undo his tie as he stood there, swaying slightly on his feet as he stared down at you. Gradually you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze.
When you’d undone his tie, you pulled it out from under his shirt collar before tossing that along his nearby dresser. Next, you focused on the task of undoing each of the little buttons of his dress shirt. Hands reaching up, you began slowly slipping each button through the hole, trying to ignore the bare skin of his slowly revealing itself to you. When you’d managed to unbutton the first three, Matt’s hands slid up the length of your forearms until they were gently holding your wrists as you worked. Biting your lip, you tried very hard to ignore your growing arousal.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered, breaking the silence.
You snorted, shaking your head as you continued unbuttoning his shirt. “And you’re drunk,” you replied.
“No, I’m serious,” he pressed. “You’re so smart. And funny. So kind-hearted. You’re–you’re too good for me. Much too good for me.”
Eyes darting up to his face, you frowned as your hands briefly halted halfway down his shirt. “Stop that, Matt,” you warned.
He shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’m far too selfish to want to give you up now.”
Sighing, you continued on your task of finishing unbuttoning his shirt. You tried to work quickly, aware of the way his thumbs were stroking the backs of your hands and what his touch was doing to you and your body. When you’d finally gotten the last one undone, you reached up, your hands sliding the soft fabric down off his broad shoulders until he was left bare from the waist up before you. You were about to turn and set his shirt on the dresser until his hands tightened on your forearms and held you still.
“I love you,” he said.
You paused, your gaze catching on the sight of something intense burning behind his eyes as he’d said that. For a moment you stood there, enraptured by whatever it was just sitting behind the surface, as if that ‘I love you’ meant something more than that.
“I love you, too,” you whispered back.
His head tilting to the side, something softer overtook the features of his face. His lips parted slightly, the corners of them gently curving upwards as his brows rose just a fraction while he fondly stared back at you. Heart rate accelerating, you gripped his shirt tighter in your hands, bunching the material. Why was he looking at you like that?
He took a step towards you, closing the distance. His right hand made a slow journey up your arm, leaving a trail of heat behind that had your jaw tightening, until he was cupping your cheek. He carefully tilted your face up towards his, his sightless eyes almost desperately trying to meet your own.
“What if,” he began softly, his thumb stroking your cheek, “I wanted to keep you for always?”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you froze. Was he implying what you thought he was implying with that? There was no way though…right? You two weren’t even living together yet, there was no way he was thinking about marriage right now. He was just drunk. Wasn’t he?
You swallowed hard, trying to control your voice and keep it from trembling as you spoke. “Then you’ll have me for always, Matty,” you whispered. “Not a number far enough away from one, right?”
His eyelids slowly lowered, a gradual smile making its way across his lips. He looked content, peaceful. Happy. As if you’d somehow said the exact right thing to him.
“Baby,” you whispered, “we should get you to bed. You’re probably not going to be feeling too good in the morning.”
Matt’s eyes opened, landing on you for a long moment before he eventually nodded. He released his hold on your face, stepping back and undoing the button and zipper of his dress pants as you set aside his shirt. You watched as he slipped his pants down his legs, your hands darting out to help steady him as he did. You certainly caught sight of the slight bulge in his dark boxers and immediately had to look away. The knowledge of him being aroused definitely was not helping you right now.
When he was in nothing but his boxers, you helped guide him around the bed and over towards his side. You pulled the sheets back as he climbed in before you tugged them back up, covering him and smiling as he snuggled up into his pillow.
“You’re coming to bed, too, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” you answered, making your way back to the lightswitch. “I’m just getting the light and I’ll join you.”
Flipping off the light and sliding his bedroom door shut, you cautiously made your way back to his bed in the near pitch black. For a brief moment you considered undressing down to your underwear but then quickly thought better of it. That would probably only encourage more groping and sexual advances.
You climbed onto the bed and got comfortable, adjusting the sheets on you before you turned, facing Matt. He was scooting his way towards you along the mattress, a hand searching for you. He hummed contentedly when he found your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze that brought another smile to your mouth.
“Sweetheart?” he asked tentatively through the dark.
“Hmm?” you answered.
There was a brief moment of hesitation before he spoke.
“Will you at least kiss me?” he asked.
“Of course, Matty,” you replied, raising up onto an elbow.
Your right hand landed on his chest, making its way up his warm, bare skin until you found his chin. Taking a moment, you leaned forward and found his lips with your own. His hand on your hip tightened, drawing you closer into him as he kissed you back. Despite Matt’s inebriation, there was a level of intensity in his kiss that you weren’t expecting, some strong feelings of his washing up with each soft, slow connection of his mouth on yours. It was almost dizzying, so much so that you eventually had to force yourself to pull away and remember that he was drunk and this couldn’t lead to anything more.
“I love you,” Matt murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion. “Can never say it enough.”
You swallowed hard, settling back down onto your pillow beside him. “I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered back. “You should really get some sleep though.”
He shifted a little, holding you even closer to his body. Silence fell over the pair of you for a few minutes. You’d have thought he’d fallen asleep if he hadn’t eventually broken the quiet with a whispered plea.
“Please never leave me.”
You curled up closer to him, feeling his body heat envelope you under the silk sheets. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised him. “I’m staying right here with you, Matty.”
Matt hummed out a tired, contented noise in response, his head shifting along the pillow for a moment before you felt him brush his lips against your forehead. Your eyes closed, a smile spreading across your mouth. And then gradually you both fell asleep.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x fem reader#matt murdock series#matt murdock fic#matt murdock fanfic#daredevil x reader#daredevil x female reader#matt murdock#fftd
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Quick announcement (before the diarrhea of information):
I'm gonna go on a semi-hiatus for a week or so. I'll still be around, just not posting any drawings. Need to replenish my energy and drawing reserves cause I'm dead >_<
Sleep behind scenes!
So... Ginkgo why the hell did this take you so long? Sorry, sorry 😅 Here's what happened. I got burned out after like 10 pages (specifically the manor backgrounds killed me, plus having the full gang in the story) and then got sick and was not feeling all that great. Working through the burn out, sick, AND college work on top was quite hard not gonna lie though, but I wanted to finish it ^^
Alright, now as for little unnecessary Easter eggs, I added as nods to the show and my other interests. ^_^
1. Undertale save point. Undertale had me sucked in for a good long while, and for some odd reason decided to re-emerge in a form of the star save. Made it purple for Uzi's effect over N. She made him more rebellious, so he started to question why is it his memories and dreams are strange/corrupted/missing instead of just going with the flow.
2. Ep3 nod. V and N have history, history that I wish we get to see. V was nicer, kinder, in my opinion, prior to the absolute solver going rampage. So it makes sense for them to have some sort of friendship at the VERY least. So I decides to give it a small spin to it too. A direct quote from ep3 ^_^
3. Ep 2 + 5 nod. I kinda pulled the moment when James dismissed N from ep2 together with events that follow after N leaves library in ep5. Chronologically, these events don't fit together, seeing as ep2 is when N first meets Cyn and ep5 is when she's already set up the massacre. But this is exactly what I was going for. N's memories are jumbled at best, so I took liberty in mixing, matching, and editing his memories just as the admin program would probably.
4. Absolute Solver symbols nod. My chats with @absolute-solver (sorry for annoying you with tag 😅) made me realize that the absolute solver ought to have more presence now. It's activated and running systems in the background for Uzi. Whiiiiich means that drawing absolute solver should start now. BUT, it's rudimentary at best. Symbols don't really make sense and are not completed for most of the time. Not until Uzi at least sees the error message in ep2, when she truly starts questioning what that weird symbol on her visor is. I headcanon that N does know or at least feel that the absolute solver symbol is familiar, hence the little comment.
5. Absolute Solver Nori. Why is there so many absolute solver Nori around? I'm certain she went back to normal, just like in pictures Khan showed us in ep4 post core collapse. But I connected the solvers together here. Uzi's absolute solver string is up and running, and because the solver is a hivemind, it'd connect the memories and warp them a little. So that's why Uzi's doodle of her and Nori at the end (and during memory recall) was so full of absolute solver. It's slowly taking root, whether she wants it to or not.
Personal touches/added/cut ideas:
N's tail wrapping around Uzi like a hug. Originally, Uzi was supposed to look more nervous, but not for the reasons you might think. I cut the nervous look to a more upset look so it wouldn't be confused for fear. Uzi's never scared of N (yes, I don't count ep2 either, that was a lot of events at once and very little time to process them). The nervous look was more of a "Why are you butting in?" type, you know? Being a loner makes you cautious, so when N prods at feelings, I figured Uzi would be a bit defensive.
Cyn is fully rendered and yet I glitched her so much I felt bad. So here's full absolute solver Cyn eldrich monster thingy. ^_^
I pulled a Hazbin hotel moment. Did you see it? Abracadabra GONE! All the scraps from first couple pages with NUzi chatting POOFED out of the existence. Did I get lazy and tired? Yes, that was the tell tale sign of burn out, when I stopped keeping track of background details and just kept the pod.
These progress shots show pretty well how the story boarding goes and how I change my mind too easily. 😅 storyboard is still as much of a mess as ever, sketch shows you I was gonna keep Uzi's hat, but decided against it in final product. I figured this. Nori gave Uzi the jacket whenever Uzi got a bigger body + hair. These are the same jacket and hair Uzi has in canon. Uzi's body is just upgraded again and her hair gets shorter in that regard. The jacket would be big on her, and cover her hands, but what's up with the fluff if I draw canon jacket more spiky? And where's the death battery drawing? I headcanon Uzi drew those on once she got into the angsty teenager stage. The jacket is more spiky from wear and tear.
Fun fact! You can sorta tell who's gonna show up in the comic by what memes I post prior. Here's some examples ^_^ Cyn showed up, and that was first practice with maid outfits and Cyn's eldrich form. Closely followed by manor gang, the second/final form of maid and butler outfits and prime practice for those scenes. This example is a bit spoiler for a meme I'm working on right now! I've never drawn Nori before, so I quickly sketched out the idea and continued on with the comic (otherwise, I'd lose my steam and procrastinate on it again). Memes are filler for you guys while I work on the actual projects (comics), and along the way, they give me practice and change in drawing style ^_^
Is it a coincidence that this comic is called Sleep with the release of a certain horror game? Actually, yeah pure coincidence 😅 I had this drafted allll the way back in November, and didn't take particular interest in poppy playtime until I saw lanky boi, which was actually during a stream I watched on release day of the chapter.
(I didn't know tumblr, or at least the phone app, had a tag limit of 30, BOY was I surprised @brookiedaaroacecookie that must have been THE tag city, sorry 😅)
Next comic is Loneliness 1 and 2
This one is split into 2 POVs from both Uzi and N side, thus its 2 separate comics. That one will be more NUzi centered, too, a slight angst and comfort spin to it. That will come... sometime. I have a few more projects I wanna finish up with prior to starting on these guys ^_^
Why are you still reading this? Omg, have a cookie 🍪 you made it. Have a nice day now ^_^
#murder drones#glitch productions#uzi doorman#murder drones fanart#murder drones uzi#murder drones serial designation n#serial designation n#serial designation v#murder drones n#murder drones v#bluginkgo's comics#the absolutesolver#murder drones absolute solver#murder drones cyn
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By Moonlight
A Zer0nyx Canon Snz Fic
⚠️Content Warning⚠️
Snz Fic, Romantic Smut, Fluff, Angst
Description: Zeroh comes back from a particularly heavy crossing and just wants to be seen for once. Amara hints at the reaper, he may not be alone. But with his photic allergies, will it ruin the mood, or lighten it?
Author’s Notes: Needed to poop something new out for these fucking CUTIES!!!! Hope you all enjoy <3 @aller-geez owns Zeroh, Amara and did the art!
Zeroh wandered back into the cemetery that doubled as a work space and home, feeling heavier than usual. Being a Reaper, definitely had it’s downsides, and often left him feeling more hollow than when he left.
Amara sensed Zeroh's heavy heart the moment he stepped into the cemetery, her shiny ghostly black feathers ruffling in concern. She perched on a weathered headstone, tilting her head as she watched him with beady white eyes. Popping in between each stone he passed by to keep with the reaper’s stride. Zeroh moved slowly among the tombstones, his steps heavy with the weight of the recent crossing he had assisted over the veil. The image of the young man’s face haunted him, so full of innocence and light extinguished far too soon. He had sacrificed himself for a lover. A lover. Something he knew the pain of losing but could barely remember the happiness of having.
As he reached a secluded corner of the cemetery where an ancient weeping willow stood guard over forgotten graves, Zeroh sank to his knees. He let himself metaphorically melt into the softened grass that had overgrown the many flattened and forgetten stones of the very distant past. “What am I to do, Miss Lady? How might I carry the weight of all this grief, and still…move forward?” he sighed, the sound escaped his lips in a long, drawn-out exhale, the sound of defeat and weariness. The rustling of leaves in the ancient willow tree seemed to echo his sigh, a melancholy harmony. The crow, warping between the seen and unknown veils finally finding a comfortable space upon his shoulder. She cawed gently, pressing her body suggestively into his neck, earning an eyeroll for a response. “That seems like a lot to press upon the poor spirit, does it not?”
The bird fluffed, and cawed. Bossy little thing. He sighed with frustration, absentmindedly drawing an endless circle in the dirt of the grounds. “Impossible, we hardly speak, I can’t imagine they’d want anything to do with me and my woes, don’t be ridiculous,” scoffing at the insistent creature. Amara’s shadow grew in size and then dramatically exploded into many smaller shadows that melded into the grass around him. “My goodness with the theatrics tonight,” O shook his head with an amused chuckle escaping his lips. “And what if you’re wrong? Hm? Would the possible rejection be worth the risk? I should just keep it all to myself…what would you know hm?” furrowing his eyebrows and sticking his tongue out at her.
The bird paused, and looked at Zeroh that almost mimicked the exact expression of “You have got to be kidding me, right?”
“Im not kidding! And you shouldnt be either…expressing myself isn’t easy, you know this Miss lady,” crossing his arms over his chest and staring at her knowingly. She shrugged her little bird shoulders poofing away and then back again in the tree above him, her shape taking form of the small ghost that was the topic of conversation causing the reaper to quickly look away, if a blush could spread across his face, it would have. “Regardless!…how do you know I’m not opening myself up to being completely humiliated?” the bird rolled her glowing solid white orbs, clearly there was something she knew that was unbeknownst to the Reaper, and would remain so should he chicken out.
Zeroh leaned indecisively against the trunk of the tree. The willow seemed to sway gently in the night breeze, as if whispering secrets to the shadows that danced around the Reaper. He let out a heavy sigh, his thoughts swirling with doubt and vulnerability. The ghostly figure of Amara perched on a branch above him, her eyes fixed on him with a mixture of impatience and understanding. She let out a soft caw, and quickly disappeared again, only to reappear in a cloud of vapor around him, pushing into his side. It was almost as if she was directing him, shoveling him into the right decision. “Alright! Alright…” he put up his hands defensively as he refused to fight against her. “I’ll go…I’ll, try…” he sighs nervously.
O took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversations that would possibly lay ahead. With a newfound resolve, he stood up straight and brushed off his dark cloak, his eyes focused on the distant horizon where the boundary between the living world and the realm of the dead blurred. Amara's ghostly form flitted around him in a dance of encouragement, her presence a comforting reminder that he was not alone in his struggles.
As he made his way through the cemetery and into the night, Zeroh felt a sense of purpose rekindle within him. The weight of grief still lingered, but now there was a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness. With each step he took towards the unknown, he felt a renewed strength building within him, fueled by the support of an unlikely companion. “You’re certain this is a good choice to make?” He spoke to the raven that flittered in and out of the veil between Zeroh’s steps closer to the part of the graveyard he knew Onyx would be attending. She cawed in response, strongly and certainly, the reaper could only groan with anxiety. As they closed in, spotting the apparition placing bouquets of flowers at empty gravestones, Amara vanished, allowing Zeroh to take the next few steps ahead, on his own.
“H-…” he cleared his throat. “Hey, Yixxy…how’s it…tonight?” What even are words? The reaper thought to himself already feeling the intense urge to run away and avoid this conversation at all costs, but in the distance of his peripheral vision, he could see a set of ominously glowing, round orbs, glaring at him. Watching him. He knew there was no avoiding at least, hanging out with the spiritual. The smaller in stature, quickly turned around, spooked as they jumped out their skin.
“OH! Zeroh!” they gasped grasping at their chest “I- I didn’t hear you come over!” Onyx stuttered, nearly dropping the bouquet they were holding. Their normally shadowy face seemed to flush with a faint hue of color, giving their ghostly features an almost lifelike appearance in the muted moonlight.
Zeroh couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the spiritual’s sudden surprise, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I apologize for startling you,” he began, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I hope I’m not intruding. I see you’re paying your respects,”
Onyx nodded slowly, their glowing eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. “Yes, just… making sure everyone has a little something,” they replied softly, their voice carrying a wistful tone. “It’s comforting in a way, being here to make sure no one goes forgotten,” the little ghost had taken it upon themselves to make sure that old, forgotten, and long abandoned graves were balanced out from the graves that simply had too many. There had been some complaints but, since there was no one living to blame, there was no solutions to be had.
Zeroh nodded in understanding, his own gaze drifting to the gravestones surrounding them. The cemetery felt peaceful and eerie at the same time, the air growing stale between them. Onyx tilted their head ever so slightly before their voice broke the silence. “Was there something you wanted to say, O?” It wasnt too often they found themselves in conversation, a lot of the moments between them were silent passings through the yard, or quietly tending the stones together. Neither of them having the nerve to open up.
Earnestly, Onyx admired the Reaper, being able to be the helping hand that escorts the living into the realm of the dead. The ghost thought of him as some what of a hero, not only for that but for the kindness of allowing him to come along with him. He was so sure of himself, knew his place, his role, and was an absolutely unreplaceable source in this universe. Nothing like themselves who could hardly decide what to wear half the time. The two of them stood awkwardly, silently, Zeroh trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Onyx wondering if maybe, they overstepped. The overthinking was overwhelming between them both and the only thing that could break them out was the sound of an exasperated and irritated “CAW!!!” In the distance, Zeroh cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.
“I…was wondering….” the feeling of wanting to bail growing within the ethereal almost consumed him, but his white eyes flashed back over to the flaring bird, and realized he would much rather not face her wrath. “If you wanted to walk with me? I…had a rough day and,” this time Zeroh looked down, his eyebrows furrowed slightly and then he took a deep breath, exhaled and finished his thought. “Could use the company…” he finally looked back up, a few short inches, and met the look of a very intrigued little spirit.
Onyx's eyes softened at Zeroh's hesitant request, a flicker of understanding passing between them. They nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of their translucent lips. "Of course, Z. I'd be more than happy to accompany you," they replied, their voice echoing softly in the quiet night air. The Reaper softened. Almost like a very lightweight had been lifted.
As they began to walk together through the cemetery, the atmosphere seemed to shift around them. The shadows cast by the slowly illuminating moonlight appeared less menacing, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh blooms from the many assorted flowers growing and presented within the graveyard. Amara, flew overhead silently back and forth between the veil, her wings beating rhythmically but still quietly as she followed them through the maze of headstones and monuments.
Zeroh felt a sense of peace settle over him as he walked side by side with Onyx, the weight of his sorrow easing with each step. “So…what’s on your shoulders?” Yix asked him, suddenly taking the reaper off guard from the once silent night they were sharing.
“On my shoulders?” He asked quizzically, looking over at the other’s almost absent gaze.
“You slump…every time you return from a particularly heavy crossing…your shoulders, they slump, and I can tell you’re carrying a weight that once wasn’t there,” Zeroh’s eyes almost widened, and this action caused the little spirit to suddenly look away, a flush would be presented across their face, should they have had any blood to produce such. The Reaper was just shocked. To be seen. To be known so intimately, without so much of a word needing to be said? It was almost remarkable. He snorted, almost solemnly through his nostrils.
“That obvious then, hm?” two sets of pale colored eyes met, in a moment of sincerity they both stopped walking, and just stood there for a moment. Eventually, Yix nodded in agreement, their expression soft and understanding.
"It's not just your shoulders that carry the weight, Zeroh. It's in your eyes, in the way you move through the world. I may not know the full extent of your burdens, but I can see that…they are heavy," Their words hung between them in the cool night air, a quiet acknowledgment of the reaper's struggles.
Zeroh was silent for a passing second, his feet sturdy and deliberate as he processed Yix's observation. "I... I appreciate your insight," he finally murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "It's been a long time since someone has truly seen me…well besides Amara but, there once was another that did…” he smiled gently looking up to see the moon peaking suspiciously behind the trees, he felt a slight tingle behind his sinuses, but took a deep breath in and looked back over at Onyx. Who was looking at him in an almost observant type of way, there was a tension between them neither could place.
Ony smiled sympathetically, finally finding the words to address the delicate topic at hand. It was clear that the Reaper was still deeply affected by it. "Whoever they were, they must have been incredibly special," they said softly, trying to provide comfort in their tone.
Zeroh's smile faltered slightly at the mention of ‘special’, not to the fault of the spirit, but O thought way more of his past lover as far superior to ‘special’. A flicker of pain crossing his face before he quickly masked it. He nodded, his gaze drifting towards a distant headstone as memories threatened to resurface. "Yes, they were...special indeed," he replied quietly, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. Onyx could sense the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air between them, an invisible barrier that kept Zeroh guarded despite their growing closeness.
He looked away, the silence between them stagnant and almost slightly awkward, neither knowing how to proceed. Amara appeared off in the visage of Z’s viewing vicinity, and she gave him a look, a knowing look, one Zeroh couldn’t mistake for any other. He knew what she was telling him, and it was to be vulnerable, to open up again, but what if he couldnt? What if it was too late for any of that, and his only chance of it was turned to dust many years previously? Not to mention how presumptuous of him to assume this young soul would want or need anything from him. He was spiraling, his mind swirling in a thousand and one different ways and the bird could see it from a million miles away.
But before Zeroh could retreat further into his thoughts, Onyx reached out a hand and gently placed it on the reaper's shoulder, which shocked him, he hadnt been touched in so long. Yet the gesture was still somehow comforting and grounded him in the present moment. Their touch was surprisingly comforting, sending a shiver down his long form. "Zeroh, you don't have to carry your burdens alone," the spirit spoke softly, their voice filled with empathy. "Sometimes sharing the weight can make it lighter,"
Zeroh met Onyx's gaze, his eyes searching for any signs of insincerity but finding only genuine care reflected back at him. The reaper felt a knot loosen in his chest, a sense of relief washing over him at the thought of not having to bear everything by himself, and that maybe there was something, safe, here.
"I... I suppose I could try," Zeroh whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the night. "It's been so long since I've let anyone in…his name was Sebastian…and I dont think I’ve said his name in…half a decade,” he scoffed, feeling guilty in the most strange way. They each took a seat upon a nearby fallen tree, one that had been neglected to be removed but wasnt causing any issues rotting across graves, so Zeroh felt no need to remove it. Instead they both took a seat under the slow raising moonlight, as the light started to glow brighter, it reflected off the water, right into Z’s sensitive eyes. He shook his head, he exhaled sharply through his nostrils and hovered a gloved hand over his eyes to shield himself. Clearing his throat and trying to shove the strange sensitive sensations that momentarily shook him.
“Anyways…it was a long time ago...I fell…for someone, and his name was Sebastian,” he paused trying his best to not let the brightening light slowly creeping in, ruin the vulnerability of this moment. “He was, so kind, and fun…he made everything seem so much easier than it was…” his face turned up into a softened smile, one that only spread half way across his lips. Onyx listened intently as Zeroh spoke of the man, the name lingering in the air like a bittersweet melody. They could feel the weight of nostalgia and longing in Z's words, the ache of old wounds reopening in the quiet of the night. The reaper's vulnerability touched something deep within Onyx's ethereal core, stirring memories long forgotten in the shadowed corners of their consciousness.
As Zeroh's voice trailed off, lost in the echoes of memory, a soft sigh escaped Onyx's lips. They reached out a hand to gently grasp Zeroh's, offering silent support and understanding. "Sebastian must have meant a great deal to you," the spirit murmured, their tone soft and never losing its kindness. O nodded solemnly in response, looking over at the many graves around them, mindlessly scanning the words but paying no real mind to the context of them.
"He certainly meant more than a great deal...he was my light in the darkness, my anchor when I needed stability…in the strangest ways..” he hesitated, his throat already begging to swallow the words he wished so badly to speak. In the distance again, above him this time, within the trees, the glowing, menacing set of eyes that threatened him in the darkness. That insistent bird…he cursed her for her bossy nature, but he knew she was right, he could use another being like Onyx around, to confide in, to, seek companionship with. “I feel, so closely to you..in the uhm,” he cleared his throat. “Same, manner of way…you’re soothing…and I…” he looked down at their hands, inches apart, so carelessly rested on the wood. “Really, rather enjoy…your uhm…” now finding the courage to look up, they met eyes, Onyx felt like they were holding in the longest breath of air, not that, breathing was terribly necessary. “Company…your presence…the things you say…you’re,” taking a deep, nervous lungful of air in and letting it out loudly. he nodded. “Incredible,” finishing the final sentence to his long drawn out thought.
To his amazement, Onyx sat the whole way through and not once lost their patience nor did their eyes glaze over in boredom. This was going surprisingly well for him, if he had to have a say.
“Wow..I’m…honored, to hold such a valuable space, Zeroh, I’m..” finding themselves at an almost true loss for words. “Immensely grateful…for you…and Amara, and everything…you, have no idea, what you’ve done for me,” They each felt a slight flutter within the pit of their stomachs, something awakening inside them that neither of them had a clue what to do with. O knowing the feeling, but too terrified to really touch it. Or Onyx. “You are…incredibly special, Zeroh,”
The Reaper’s blackened heart swelled at the words spoken by the other so freely, feeling a warmth he had almost forgotten existed for so long. The weight of his past seemed to momentarily lift as he gazed into Onyx's eyes, seeing a reflection of compassion and acceptance that he had been yearning for. A sense of connection blossomed between them, fragile yet profound in its sincerity. As the moonlight bathed them in its gentle glow, O found himself lowering his hand to reach out, but only to pull his fingers back into his own lap, Yixxy noticed, but stayed quiet.
"I... I never thought I would find someone who could understand me like you do, Onyx," Zeroh confessed, his voice steady yet filled with sensitivity. "Your presence brings me a kind of peace I thought was lost to me forever,” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I want to thank you for being here with me, for listening and caring in a way that no one else has…I feel, lighter, somehow,” he laughed, silently, through his nostrils but found himself sniffling quickly after, shaking his head gently. The emanating light starting to wear him down thin. His throat was itching and the canal of his nose was swelling slowly, eyes watering as he pushed up a hand to wipe the collective black liquid from his ducts. “Sorry…the moon is bright tonight…” he confessed as he fought his oncoming symptoms.
Onyx's ethereal form seemed to shimmer with a newfound light that was beaming from inside him. This being, this, Reaper, was grateful for them? They hadn’t had someone grateful for them, in, centuries. Ony smiled. They reached up a gentle, delicate hand and as it went from transparent to solid, slowly, they placed it under Zeroh’s eyes, using the pad of their thumb to wipe an escaped tear. “You truly are remarkable…” Their response was a gentle whisper, filled with warmth and sincerity. It was all they could manage to utter, their voice carrying a soothing tone that enveloped him like a warm hug.
Despite Zeroh being well aware of Onyx's current state, he couldn't help but gasp and feel a jolt run through his body when the ghost placed their hand on his face. He froze, his expression filled with worry as he scanned Onyx for any signs of pain or uncertainty. Yet, they were still there, smiling at him without a doubt. Letting out a sigh of relief, Zeroh reached up to place his hand on top of theirs. They locked eyes before the Reaper finally spoke up again. "I- I really want to kiss you," he started, but then quickly looked away, afraid of what he might see in Onyx's eyes. "But I'm scared,”
Onyx felt a wave of emotions crash over them at Zeroh's confession. The vulnerability and rawness in his voice tugged at their very essence, stirring feelings they had long forgotten. As Zeroh hesitated, Onyx reached up to gently cup his cheek, their touch cool yet comforting against his lonely skin.
"You don't have to be afraid," they whispered softly, their eyes filled with understanding and a glimmer of something more. "I feel it too...the connection…" Onyx leaned in closer, almost purely off instinct, their breath mingling with his as they closed the gap between them, pressing their lips against his in a tender kiss.
Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the moment, a rush of feelings swirling within them both. It was a kiss filled with unspoken words and shared longing, a bridge between two souls reaching out for solace and understanding. And as they pulled away, Zeroh felt a warmth spreading through him, a sense of peace and belonging he hadn't felt in ages. Onyx's presence enveloped him in a comforting embrace, the weight of his pain momentarily lifted by the connection they shared.
As they gazed into each other's eyes, Zeroh felt a flicker of hope ignite within him, a light in the darkness that he thought had long been snuffed.
"I... I don't know what to say," the Reaper murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched Onyx's eyes for reassurance. The ghostly figure before him emanated a sense of calm and acceptance that washed over him like a soothing balm.
They smiled softly, their eyes reflecting understanding and warmth. "You don't have to say anything," they replied kindly, their hand falling off Zeroh's cheek, only to lay carefully on the ethereal’s hand that was located upon his knee. "Just know that you're not alone in this journey, not anymore,” there were no more words that could be spoken between the two as they just stared at each other in awe, but slowly the light grew brighter, the urges within O were growing impossible to ignore, and he chuffed unexpectedly.
A sense of urgency gripped Zeroh as he felt the familiar tingling in his skin, a warning sign that the moonlight was becoming too intense for his photic allergies to handle. Panic surged through him as he tried to preserve this precious moment with Onyx, to bask in their connection a little longer. But the bright light of the moon crept closer, casting its silvery glow around them, threatening to shatter the fragile peace they had found.
Onyx sensed Zeroh's distress and their smile faltered, replaced by a look of concern. They could see the telltale signs of his struggle against the moonlight, the way his skin prickled and his breath quickened. Unsure of what to do, the ghost just simply sat there, he’d seen this a few times but, every time those..sounds escaped O, the spirit would find themselves retreating. Completely and utterly embarrassed by their body’s natural reaction to it. However, if he ran now, he risked insulting the Reaper or worse, hurting his feelings in the manner of a wrong assumption. They each were in a pickle of sorts.
Zeroh could feel the tension in the air, the impending danger of his condition flaring up. Despite his internal struggle, he couldn't bear to see Onyx's expression shift from gentle understanding to worry. The Reaper knew it was too late to escape it, and they’d both just have to get through it. “I think….” he snorted, trying to desperately push the feeling out of his face, but to no avail. “I’m gonna sneeze…” it came out in a gasp, the moonlight now shining down on him with full force. The feeling crawled down his nose like tv static, or a fizzy drink, and it exploded through his chest. “Huh’…HH’aHTCHh’iew!” into the crook of his elbow, trying to avoid a mess across his new found, crush? Despite having shared an intimate moment, the reaper certainly wasnt concerned with labels as his face felt like it was tingling relentlessly.
Onyx on the other hand, was stone cold solid, eyes widened almost like a deer caught in a set of headlights. If they could blush, they would be, brightly, across every surface of their skin he took a deep, slow, exhale out, sucking their lower lip in between two clenching rows of teeth. ‘What the hell is wrong with me ?’ they thought almost worriedly to themselves as their whole body felt like it was suddenly, hot.
It was in that moment, as Zeroh fought against the uncontrollable urge to sneeze under the moonlight, that Onyx felt a shift within themselves. The sight of Zeroh's struggle sparked something deep inside them, igniting a fire that they had never experienced before. As Onyx watched the Reaper battle his senses, a strange fluttering sensation stirred in their chest, sending shivers down their spine. “Heh’TSSCHT! Huh’TSSSCH!” two more he was regrettably unable to stop as a fine mist spread across his arm.
The light from the moon seemed to caress Zeroh's features, highlighting the delicate lines of his face, the tear stains on his cheeks, the redness in his nose as he wiped, and the vulnerability in his eyes. Onyx couldn't tear their gaze away, captivated by the rawness of the moment and the intimacy that hung between them like a veil.
With each gasp and hitch in Zeroh's breath, Onyx felt their own pulse quicken in response. The heat that had been building within them now roared to life, consuming their senses with a newfound desire that left them reeling. Onyx cleared their throat. “A-Are you okay? Do you uh…do you…shit,” they lost their train of thought. O looking over at the spirit with confusion behind his own gaze. What was this? The little ghost was never this flustered.
“I’b…I..hh—HUH’AHTSSCHHHh’iew!….fibe…” trying to play it off he huffed almost with frustration at himself, ruining a perfectly romantic evening with his stupid allergies, he turned away. “I'b so soddy…” shaking his head back and forth. “SndFf…” trying so hard to keep himself cleared of any further mess. Black ooze slowly dripping out from his nostrils as he kept wiping it away.
“N-No! D-Don’t be sorry it’s uhm…really,” Onyx’s hands were practically shaking, knees buckling under the weight of sudden arousal. “It’s fine,” clearing their own throat awkwardly, the reaper couldn’t help but notice how, squirrely, the other suddenly became and stepped closer to the apparition.
“Are you alrighd? You seem…upsed,” the stuffed up way that the reaper responded was only adding to Ony’s discomfort, he was so attractive it almost made them crazy, they took in a deep breath and tried to be honest, like the other had been so graciously.
“I’m not..I’m not sure it’s just,” looking away they absentmindedly started twirling a lock of their hair, nervous. “The way that sounded…it’s almost as if..…I enjoy it, like, more than I should..” the spirit’s voice was almost an embarrassed mumble. Completely and totally thrown off by the way they felt in regards to their companion’s allergy afflictions.
As Onyx confessed their unexpected situation, Zeroh turned back to face them, his own confusion mirroring the ghost's turmoil. The air between them crackled with unuttered words and untouched emotions, each trying to make sense of the tangled mess that had woven itself between their souls. Zeroh took a hesitant step forward, closing the distance between them until they were mere inches apart.
His heart pounded in his chest as he reached out a trembling hand to cup Onyx's cheek, his touch feather-light against their ethereal skin. "Can I help, somehow?" he asked tenderly, his voice barely audible in the still night air.
Onyx's eyes widened in surprise, the flickering moonlight casting shadows across their face as they processed Zeroh's confession. A myriad of emotions played across their features - uncertainty, longing, and a spark of something more sultry. Yix took a deep breath and shrugged, attempting to look away again before getting lost in the trance of the other being’s lips that were so close. “I-I’m not sure…”
“Would you like me to do it again…?” O asked curiously, tilting the other’s gaze back up to his own with a thin, long index finger.
The ghost felt a rush of conflicting emotions - desire mingled with uncertainty, curiosity twined with fear. As they met Zeroh's gaze, a silent understanding passed between them, a connection stronger than any words could convey.
With a shaky exhale, Onyx found themselves leaning into Zeroh's touch, the sensation sending shivers down their spine. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as they inched closer together, drawn by an invisible thread of fate that bound their souls as one.
Zeroh's eyes held a mixture of tenderness and longing as he leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with Onyx's in the space between them. Their lips brushed together in a tentative kiss, soft and hesitant yet filled with passion still, though, far too short. O pulled away and smiled sweetly. “Well?”
Onyx felt nothing short of dizzy as their lips separated once again, such gentle, tender and yet romantic gestures, so simple, that almost made the ghost feel like they’d crossed over. Shyly, with a bite of their lip they nodded gently, matching the curious, yet heated gaze of the other’s.
Zeroh smirked, nodding in response before standing up straight again, and looking now directly into the moonlight. “Okay…Here we go…” he almost felt rather silly, what if this wasn’t actually what caused the little ghost to be excited? What if he was humiliating himself? He shook it off, unable to really pay focus to the thought as the moon shining into his direct irises was making them water, and itch.
The Reaper hitched, his whole body tensing as he struggled against the bright light that shone in front of him. His jaw opened slightly, as a tickle began to overwhelm him. "H-HH..." he sputtered, trying to contain himself. But the sensation was too strong, and soon he was fighting against it with all his might. "HH'TTSSChh'uu! hh-TSSCCHHHIEW!" The sneezes came out forcefully and without warning, like a cannonball being fired from its barrel. The sound echoed through the air, leaving behind a faint ring that seemed to linger for just a moment longer.
Onyx watched with a mix of awe and desire as Zeroh succumbed to another powerful fit under the moonlit sky. The ghost felt a surge of heat rush through them, specifically to their loins, a particular feeling they were definitely not used to. Their ethereal form tingling with anticipation at the sight before them. While Zeroh recovered from his sneezing, sniffling and rubbing at his nose to clear himself of any blackened mess, he turned to Onyx with a sheepish smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Did you uh…did you enjoy that?" Zeroh asked, nervously, tucking a loose strand of white hair behind his ear, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and uncertainty.
Onyx couldn't help but be drawn in by the Reaper's charm, their heart fluttering in their chest as they gazed into his warm eyes. "I uh….," Onyx clears their throat, nodding and smiling softly, “I very much did…a lot actually…something about the crinkle of your nose and the desperation behind each gasp..” almost a bit too descript with a hint of longing in their tone.
The tension between them crackled like electricity in the air, the unspoken words hanging between them like a delicate thread waiting to be pulled taut. Zeroh took another step closer to Onyx, closing the gap between them yet again. “So then…SnDfF..would you like to…retire…? There’s a nearby mausoleum we could, disappear too…yet to be occupied by any deceased,” The Reaper made it sound more like a sales pitch than a romantic night in.
Onyx's breath hitched at Zeroh's suggestive words, their cheeks flushing a faint shade of blue as desire pooled in their core, it was rather uncomfortable for someone who hadn’t really ever felt sexual attraction before, or ever. Yet, the ghost nodded eagerly, their translucent form shimmering with anticipation. Without another word, they took Zeroh's hand in theirs, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.
Together, they vanished into the night, their forms merging seamlessly as they made their way to the abandoned mausoleum. The air crackled with a newfound energy, charged with the unspoken certainty that hung between them like a veil of silk.
As they stepped into the dimly lit chamber of the mausoleum, Onyx turned to face Zeroh, their eyes alight with hunger and longing. They hopped up onto the empty coffin that was there in display, spreading their legs just gently to welcome Zeroh’s form. “Cozy,” they giggled shyly, and the reaper couldn’t help but return with a tender smile. “You know…” as O stepped closer, limiting the space between the two as he got comfortable between the other’s knees, gently he set his palms on each of the apparition’s thighs, a softened grip. “I have never, desired to be touched…and for the first time, I do..and it’s when I’m dead…” laughing, they shook their head, pale locks moving in slow wisps, “how lucky that I seemed to be shacking up with the one…being, that probably can, actually…touch me,” O chuckled at this, nodding his head in agreement before parting his lips to speak, fingers gripping tightly to the spirit’s thighs for emphasis.
“You’re not wrong…I do have that fairly helpful gift…” his response was breathy, almost like he was holding back something himself. Onyx reached down and began to slowly strip the Reaper of their protective gloves, he pulled his hands back and looked at the ghost almost in shock.
“You don’t need them…let me feel your hands on me…” Onyx was gentle in their disposition, returning back to grip the gloves at their hems as O settled them back down in between them, and trusted the little apparition instead of allowing fear to drive him.
The reaper’s hands trembled slightly as he allowed Onyx to remove his gloves, revealing blackened, slender fingers that looked almost fragile in the dim light of the mausoleum. A myriad of emotions flickered through his eyes - vulnerability, desire, fear. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to touch Onyx's ethereal form, experimentally running them up the hem of the ghost’s sweater. His fingertips grazing their translucent skin with a feather-light touch.
A gasp escaped Onyx's lips at the sensation of Zeroh's touch was suddenly against their cool, incorporeal form. Amazed by the feeling, for both of them it had been entirely too long. The contrast was electrifying, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through them. They arched into his touch, craving more of the intimacy that seemed to spark between them like a wildfire. “Is…Is this okay? Are you okay?” The Reaper asked nervously, looking up at the other, while fingers continued to gently dance across their chest.
“N-No…It’s really…good, don’t…don’t stop, Zeroh,” his name came out like a gasp against their lips and O felt a rush of heat pool in his stomach at Onyx's reaction, a newfound boldness surging through him as he leaned in closer, capturing Onyx's lips in a loving kiss. The ghost melted into the other, sparks flying between them and suddenly there was a mess of hands, exploring, touching, simply touching. Gods it had been so long, they could practically spend the entire night just doing this.
Their lips meshed together in a passionate dance, mouths moving in sync as Onyx’s hands trailed to the hem of the Reaper’s torn up sweater. “Are you sure…?” they pulled apart enough to speak again, Zeroh needing a constant reassurance his new found lover wasn’t hurting, afraid or worse, dying. Onyx nodded as they began to peel themselves out of their shirt, undoing their pants, and Zeroh slowly followed suit. O stood there, shoveled between the ghost’s legs, standing in his underwear, as Onyx sat there in theirs. Slowly, carefully, the Reaper watched as his own hands slid up the other’s soft, solid body, they were transparent, but still so very much here and real and tangible. Unaffected by the curse his touch held. He smiled, now looking up at the other, who returned the gesture.
“Do you think you can…get out another?” the ghost asked nervously, in a whisper of words that almost didn’t escape them. The Reaper bit his lower lip, trying to hold back another chuckle, worried he would embarrass the poor thing, but truthfully he just found them so entirely adorable.
“How could I say no?” nodding before looking out the only window of the mausoleum and making contact with the brightening moonlight yet again, this time having to put effort behind it as he scooched closer to Onyx, bare chests touching, Zeroh’s head comfortably hovering over top the other’s, Onyx was met with a strong chest. They looked up, resting their chin upon it to witness the happenings above their head.
The reaper’s head tilted back, his mouth fell open and out it came. “Hh’TTSsCh’uu! Huh’Tssch’hHIEW!” his whole form flexed and clenched around Onyx, the ghost had taken a hold of each of O’s biceps, gripping them tightly to feel them constrict as he blew. The little ghost shuddered with delight, the sounds of sneeze echoing inside their brain chamber, rattling around like soon to be rot that would consume them. A fine mist fell behind them, tickling and trickling down Yix’s back.
“Wow…” was all the little ghost could muster up, a smile breaking out on their face as they leaned back against the coffin, reveling in the innocent intimacy of the moment. Zeroh chuckled softly at Onyx's reaction, following closely by climbing on top of them, a warmth spreading through him at the sight of the ghost's genuine enjoyment. He settled over the spirit, drinking in their form, both of them now in various states of undress but feeling more connected than ever before. The moonlight bathed them in a soft glow, casting shadows that danced across their intertwined forms.
Zeroh's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions as he gazed down at Onyx, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. The air was charged with electricity, a palpable tension that seemed to draw them closer together. As their eyes met in the dim light of the crypt, Zeroh felt a surge of lust that had long been dormant inside him.
Without a word, he lowered his head, capturing Onyx's lips in a fevered kiss that spoke of longing and passion. The ghost responded eagerly, their hands roaming over Zeroh's body with a hunger that matched his own. In that instant, all doubts and fears melted away, leaving only the raw, unbridled need that pulsed between them.
Their bodies moved together in a seamless dance of desperate need, each touch sending sparks flying through the air. Zeroh's hands trailed down Onyx's sides, fingers tracing patterns on the ghostly skin that seemed to glow beneath his touch before meeting the hem of their briefs, pulling at them before breaking their kiss, pushing their foreheads together lovingly. He tried to catch his breath but still his words came out almost muted. “S’okay? You…’re okay?” not a moment the Reaper didn’t want the ghost to feel uncomfortable.
Their voice quivered uncontrollably as they struggled to catch their breath, the overwhelming sensation of arousal coursing through their veins. With every word, their voice cracked and faltered, overcome by the sheer intensity of the moment. "Yes...keep going," they managed to stammer out, each syllable dripping with a need and hunger that was unlike them. The air was thick with anticipation as they awaited the next move from their partner, their body trembling with excitement and yearning.
Their breaths mingled in the stagnant air of the mausoleum, creating a fog of passionate lust that enveloped them both. The reaper’s hands shook with anticipation as he continued to explore Onyx's ethereal form, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The ghost arched into his caresses, a low moan escaping their lips as pleasure coursed through their slender body.
Feeling emboldened by Onyx's response, he let his hands wander further, sliding down to grasp the ghost's hips possessively. Onyx gasped at the touch, their form shimmering in the moonlight as they surrendered to the Reaper's embrace. The connection between them crackled with a raw intensity, each movement bringing them closer to the edge of something wild and untamed.
As their passions continued to ignite, O felt a desperate surge push through him as he wrapped both his hands now tenderly around the back of Ony's thighs, lifting them, he sat back on the coffin, still between the legs he was lifting a mere few inches. “I want you, Onyx, in every way possible, for eternity, would that be, alright?” he asked cautiously, but still, with an aura of confidence as he kissed down the ghost’s thin legs.
“Absolutely, Zeroh, I’m already yours,” the ghost whispered hoarsely. The larger grinned, like a kid in a candy shop kissing down the spirit’s legs with adoring excitement, he felt a shiver run down his spine at Onyx's words. He looked up at the ghost's face, their eyes shining with admiration and all the same, hunger. A spark spread through him at the thought of spending eternity with the apparition, and he knew that he would do anything to make that a reality.
With a renewed sense of grounding, Zeroh reached downward to his own boxers, pulling them down to reveal his hardened cock and slickening his palm with a mouthful of saliva. “You’re sure you want this? You want me?” he prepped himself accordingly, positioning himself between Onyx’s trembling thighs, they nodded, biting their lower lip nervously but with excitement, their hands reached up to grasp the reaper by his forearms.
“I want you, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine….please, Zeroh..” the ghost almost begged, and it was enough for the ethereal to have mercy, sliding himself comfortably inside of Ony’s tight entrance. They both took their time adjusting as the reaper made his way the full hilt, they each took a deep breath in, and the spirit moaned involuntarily with a surprising ecstasy that overflowed them. The reaper’s hands on either side of Onyx’s head now, the ghost wrapping their leg’s tightly around his waist.
“Shhhh…it. It’s been awhile, Ha~ ..you feel really good…” O admitted, the vulnerability of their actions hung in the air like a thick blanket around them. Slowly, thoughtfully, the reaper began to slip back out, only mid way before, tenderly back in.
The air in the crypt was thick with the scent of ancient stone and the mingled musk of their bodies as they moved in unison, their souls intertwined in a dance as old as time itself. Oh’s blueish white eyes locked with Onyx's, the intensity of their affections and desires for one another, reflected back in the other's gazes. The ghost's body writhed beneath him, a symphony of pleasure and pain, their breaths echoing in the silent chamber like the cries of a thousand long-lost souls. “Zeroh~” the spirit whimpered in pleasure as their body was claimed.
Movements became more fervent, their bodies undulating like two waves crashing into one another, creating a tide of passion that threatened to consume them both. As their hips met with a rhythm that was both primal and divine, Zeroh brought his fingers down, tracing delicate patterns on Onyx's skin, leaving behind trails of light that danced in the moonbeams pouring through the dusty window. “My name on your lips…don’t ever cry for another…I could die over and over hearing that sound, and I know it’ll…” he paused, shoveling himself back inside “lead me to salvation…” he huffed through clenched teeth before pushing down and finding their lips again.
Time seemed to lose all meaning as they continued to move, each thrust more deliberate and passionate than the last. Despite the urgency of their passion, they took their time, savoring the feel of each other's bodies as hands made magic as though it might be their last chance to experience this earthly pleasure.
Zeroh's movements grew more frantic, he could feel the ghost beneath him begin to tremble in anticipation of their union. Each time he thrust into Onyx, he could feel himself getting closer to the brink, their bodies humming with electricity as they danced on the razor's edge of climax. Mouths still clashing and melting together like two pieces of chocolate in a wrapper on a hot day.
With a gasp, Onyx's body stiffened beneath him, their eyes rolling back into their head as they arched their back in pure unadulterated ecstasy. Zeroh watched closing while the spirit was coming undone, spurting out from their length over their chests, and he tried to hold back his own orgasm, savoring the sight of the ghost finding pleasure for the first time in, possibly ever, and with a final thrust, Zeroh's own climax washed over him. His seed spilling forth into the ghost's body as their souls seemed to meld together. The air was thick with raw passion and the scent of their mingled fluids, mixing with the musty odor of the ancient crypt.
As they lay there, clinging to one another, Zeroh couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them. Would they be together forever? Could they find a way to be together should Onyx ever pass over? Or would this be just a fleeting moment of passion, a memory etched into their beings? Would they pretend this never happened? They couldn’t…the electricity…the raw passion between them was too palpable.
He brushed a lock of Onyx's hair from their forehead, tracing the lines of their ethereal face with his fingers. For a moment, they were silent, lost in their own thoughts, but then O whispered softly into his ear. “Could we have forever? You think?” the reaper asked, almost with a shaken voice. The ghost tightened their arms around him, comforting him.
“We can,” Onyx whispered back, the sincerity in their voice resonating through the cold stone chamber, enough to give the Reaper the assurance neither of them could really promise. He could feel Onyx's breathing slowing, and their body starting to steady as they began to drift back down from the heights of passion.
As they lay intertwined, still basking in the afterglow of their passions, Zeroh's mind raced with a flurry of thoughts. The possibilities that had just opened up before him were overwhelming, and he found himself lost in them. For so long, he had believed that Sebastian was his one true love, the end all be all of feelings and emotions. But then this little apparition appeared, floating into his life like an unexpected arrow piercing straight through his heart.
Slowly, they started to disentangle themselves from each other, “Should clean ourselves up…we could…continue distributing the flowers to the empties if you’d like?” The reaper offered as they slowly climbed down from the stone coffin, O helping the smaller down with a steady hand.
“I’d love that,” Yixxy smiled back at him, hopping down and helping him sort through their mess of clothes.
“And face the gloat of a match making bird as well…” Zeroh chuckled breathily, running a hand through his slightly dampened and sweaty locks.
“Oh? Did Amara have something to do with your approach tonight?” Onyx looked up from getting dressed to meet the Reaper’s gaze with a raised brow.
“She might have…been the courage I needed yes,” they both shared a gentle laugh, the sound echoing off the crypt walls, the two gathered their things, got dressed and reemerged from the mausoleum, content to enjoy the rest of their night in the company of each other.
The End
Author’s Notes: Idk if it’s cause I spent literally 24 hours writing this piece, or my brain is fried but I feel like I probably could have done better on this 🤣 Ugh they’re so cute I just want to make sure it’s done justice! 🥲🥲 hope yall enjoy! It was fun writing 🫶🏻
#oc#original character#writer#fic writer#snzblr#snz kink#snz#snz ocs#snzfucker#snzzzzz#snz oc#snzkink#snzfet#snz fucker#snz fet#ZerOnyx
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UH-OH! a comic about being trans. by me. part one of probably three :]
i felt bad about being transmasc so i decided to just give up and write about it until i hopefully didnt. i feel a little better getting this all on digital paper but there's still. a lot to draw. so. oops
i'll be posting the next parts. whenever they're ready (which will hopefully be soon) and linking them all here, so whenever you want just check back with the base post and i'll prolly add some links and maybe clean things up. yay!
text transcript / partial ID under the cut!
transcript:
looking back, there were a few signs i might have been trans.
[a sequence of events showing little me flinching and going "ow" at being called his deadname, little me reading a book and going "haha im like a tomboy but i dont like sports or being active or anything im just. a boy. haha", and little me having an active breakdown, crying and holding his glasses, with partially obscured text in a dark cloud around him. the only text visible shows his thoughts, and shows he's worrying that he's sexist for mostly only liking and relating to boy characters.]
...some.
however.
there were also a few things i considered signs of me not being trans at all.
EXHIBIT A:
[a drawing of little me, looking at his 3ds. he's thinking "as long as i make sure that i always play as the 'main girl character' in these games i wont cry because im a girl because i wont be me as a girl i'll be Them. roleplaying. as them".]
no dysphoria.
[caps] EXHIBIT B: [end caps]
[a crude drawing of little me staring at nothing. he's thinking "i don't hate women. and i don't like being mean to other people."]
[caps] I WAS A FEMINIST. [end caps]
and not toxically masculine.
i knew about trans people, but i didn't know trans MEN existed.
[a drawing of little me, with the caption "clueless". he's staring slightly up, and saying "huh?!"]
my mom was nonbinary, with a few trans friends, but people [caps] WANTING??? TO BE MEN??? [end caps]
to be
gross,
disgusting,
hateful,
cruel,
oppressive,
men?
[the background slowly gets darker until it reaches the final word, and that word is a significantly bigger font than the rest of the words.]
for a while, primarily due to my lack of research
[drawing of little me, staring at his computer (which is labeled "deviantArt machine") and going 'huh'.]
i figured, if i WAS trans, I was probably a trans women.
but of course, that was silly
you can't be a trans woman if you're already afab.
and there's no other ways of being trans,
right?
[a crudely-drawn drawing of a deviantArt favorite's tab. none of the favorited pieces have any detail, though several are the same width and length as classic deviantArt stamps.]
hm.
hmmmmm...
[a crudely-drawn drawing of a representation of one of the favorited stamps. it's a massive, pink stamp with the text "SHE/HER!" in it in all caps and pink lettering. bottom text states it is a "she/her pronouns badge by ...", though the rest is cut off.]
HMMMM...
[a picture of a mouse hovering over the 'favorite/unfavorite' button. the star is filled in, indicating clicking it would unfavorite the piece.]
[two wordless panels, side-by-side, showing little me staring at his screen, hovering his cursor over the unfavorite button.]
[two more panels, showing that little me has unfavorited the she/her badge. the panel showing his face shows he is grinning wildly, his hair has poofed up in excitement, and his glasses are now blue-ish purple.]
OHO!!!!!!!!!!!!1
.................and that's
quite literally
how it happened.
before i knew how bad the entire site was, i would frequent dA. CONSTANTLY.
it was baby's very first "social media" webpt site.
[a drawing of a tiny, cartoonish kitten with a small turf of hair, staring at wonder up at a computer, one hand on the mousepad. it is labeled "dramatic reenactment of me making my d a account."]
i wasn't really SHELTERED as a kid, i just didnt know fuck for shit, and my baby anxiety made learning annoyingly hard.
so i turned to memes as a sort of wire mother as opposed to my real, cloth one.
jokes can be easier to understand than reality, sometimes.
(this isnt a good thing.)
so, i sort-of-came-out on deviantart, home of the wacky, wild and weird, where i learned he/him pronouns were an option, and a choice.
[a drawing of little me, with blue glasses, gazing up at the sky and smiling triumphantly.]
and some crazy trauma but that's for a different comic. if i make it.
[a drawing of little me being hit with a cartoonish star, which is meant to represent the trauma.]
sooo...
that's it, right?
[little me, with a cartoony bandage on his head, gently rubbing his wound.]
my mom was supportive & anyone who wasn't ...isn't in the picture now
that's the end
...right?.
end transcript.
#trans#trans man#transmasculine#ftm#comic#webcomic#klug's sketches#hoo boy this is rlly fucking personal so im a little scared BUT#im happy w it and that is what matters
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