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#also hi. I should be posting more often now - I've been feeling a bit out of place here tbqh but I'm trying to get back on my feet! 😌
deaconsleatherpants · 2 years
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the way he's so happy to finally be a best man đŸ„Č
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tomatopers · 1 month
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❝ I'm. . . late?! ❞
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in honor of me also forgetting vday :,) here is my first post for this acc !! I also need to remember to make an intro post n stuff, and hopefully i'll make some friends on here eventually </3 i see ppl interacting with their anons/followers and it's sooo cute when will that be me !!!!
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They forgot Valentine's Day... surely the nineteenth is just as special? Diluc, Zhongli x GN!Reader (separate)
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Diluc watched you silently from a window, the sunny scene outside feeling worlds away from his own dim office. You were sitting on the stone wall surrounding the Dawn Winery, pretending to read one of his boring novels while pointedly ignoring him. He was very often unaware of his stumbles, this being his first relationship, but wouldn't he would catch on soon enough?
Sure it was immature to still act huffy at this age, but Valentine's day was 5 days ago! Not one! FIVE! You had to witness Lisa flirting with the Acting Grand Master for hours, which wasn't uncommon in the slightest, but the librarian seemed to make use of all her cheesy lines on the holiday.
The stone was frigid beneath your bare legs, and you were reminded that the sun hadn't yet begun to do its job this early in the month as your legs grew numb. Perhaps on this fifth day of snubbing your lover, you'd spend the night at a bar- maybe even in Venti's company, or Kaeya's. That last ditch effort to get him to notice your huffy behavior never failed.
The worst part of this whole affair was that you couldn't even be disappointed or properly upset in peace. How could you, when this was clearly not an intentional mishap? Diluc worked diligently, and was far more dependable than most; Though, this trait of his only served to deepen your guilt. Perhaps you should apologize for this childish behavior... Maybe talk it out like proper adults...
6 o'clock found you on a barstool at Angels' share, a little early for drinking but the glass in your hand was clearly not your first. Kaeya sat to your right, an arm resting on the counter as he lent an ear to your woes. Venti stood to your left, strumming his lyre quietly and pitching in jests during the quieter moments.
The door opened at 7 on the dot, and you turned around despite knowing who stood behind you. The backlighting of the evening sun made his hair glow like fire, exaggerating the irritation on Diluc's face to resemble anger. You stood up, slightly tipsy but no less aware, and grasped Kaeya's shoulder to steady yourself before walking forward.
"Good evening, Master Diluc. What brings you here so early?" He seemed to glare at you before casting a glance at Charles. The bartender visibly jumped, quickly bowing a greeting before averting his eyes as Diluc grabbed your wrist and tugged you out of the bar. His grip, though firm, wasn't the slightest bit painful- even now, in whatever bitter mood he was in, Diluc always treated you with the utmost care.
You felt even more guilty for acting the way you did.
He released his hold on you in a more private space, tucked behind a couple trees, and waited. Just as you knew he would seek you out immediately after work, he knew you'd soon crumble under his stare and explain what you wanted. Those red eyes, sometimes blazing with anger or warm with love, were now passive and unreadable.
"Well?"
You felt heat behind your eyes, feeling the tears before they could escape down your cheeks. How stupid. It was hard to form a sentence between sniffles, so you stood and cried as he enveloped you in a hug. Maybe you had more than a few drinks back at the bar...
When your tears were all but spent, you gripped his hand in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze. "...I'm sorry."
"What for?"
You sighed, "I've been such a child about this, it honestly wasn't even that important yet I-"
"If it bothered you, then it's important. To me."
There it was again, the ever chivalrous Diluc and his overflowing compassion when it came to you. Despite the temptation to lie and play it off, you sheepishly admitted, "It's just that, uh- a few days ago, it was Valentine's day... and we didn't really um- celebrate together... But! It's okay! You do so much already and I honestly don't need to do anything for some silly holiday when we can do stuff like that any day and.."
Looking up, you trailed off into a confused silence. Diluc's face was red, and he was the one now avoiding your eyes. "I'm- My apologies. I admit, it did slip my mind, but that is no excuse. It's more than a silly holiday, and as such, I would be honored if you would allow me an attempt to make it up to you." You burst out laughing, and he looked relieved. You really had no reason to be upset, not with this cute of a lover.
"I would allow you all the attempts possible, Mr. Ragnvindr. All the attempts and more." He smiled and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you followed him out of the alley. "Shall we visit that famous traveling chef then, darling? I heard he's in town. Or the Good Hunter, for something casual? Or perhaps we could buy you one of those gorgeous necklaces they have at the-"
You pulled him in by his collar, feeling him stiffen at the kiss before relaxing. "Diluc, sweetheart, I was thinking something closer to home? I can make dinner, and," you gestured at the setting sun, "the night is still young, I'm sure we can have some... fun, in that great big house of yours."
He turned an even brighter red, trying to cover his blush with the hand you weren't holding. "...That would be perfect."
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It was rarer for Zhongli to go a day without speaking to you than it was for him to remember his wallet. That's why it was evident to even those around you that there was something amiss. You worked at a teahouse, and that just happened to be where Zhongli's favorite tea was sold. When you weren't working, you'd help out at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, or stroll with him along the boardwalk. Plenty of time together, to say the least.
When the regulars witnessed you not serving the consultant's tea, as you always did, it immediately became a source of chatter- Some of the older women were having quite a laugh about young lovers' quarrels, though your relationship with Zhongli was far past the "young love" stage. As you walked from table to table, it was hard to ignore his stare practically burning holes through you.
The first whole hour of his visit must've passed this way; your every movement under the scrutiny of the ex-archon, your coworkers, and half the guests in the teahouse. Your work wasn't any different than usual, no. In fact, you might even be more productive now that you weren't stopping to chat with Zhongli whenever your hands were free. The owner of the place would never admit it, but he too was curious of the predicament under his roof.
Your scheduled break was minutes away, the one you would typically spend at Zhongli's table, but you clearly didn't intend to do so today. For a being such as him, it was inevitable that certain things would slip his mind, but Valentine's Day? You had planned out the entire day as a surprise, the holiday had even fallen on one of Zhongli's leisure days, but he called in the morning to tell you he'd be assisting the Traveler and would not come by. It wasn't even a brief task! He was gone for five days!
It wasn't like you hadn't told him anything, either. "Oh illustrious Rex Lapis, God among men, I beseech your presence in my humble abode on the final day of this week." He had chuckled at your attempt of mimicking the speech of those who cowered before him in his days of glory, taking your hand with a smile and a kiss. It was going to be perfect! But the plans were discarded, and the cake you made still sat untouched in the fridge...
Xingqiu walked in with his usual cheerful wave, heading to the back corner where he'd spend a couple hours reading; As though he noticed your restlessness, he smiled and offered you a seat to join him, "I'll take you up on your offer to regale me with the stories from your trip overseas, if I may?" You smiled back, "Of course! I'll bring the tea and join you."
You spent your break with the young man, and the following remainder of the shift passed with ease. At some point, Zhongli had disappeared- had he gotten upset? Most likely not, such a small matter was far from enough to garner his irritation. It was more likely that work had called for his presence. Maybe he'd notice shop owners taking down their holiday wares on his walk and remember his oversight.
You hung up your apron, bidding the staff goodnight before descending the stairs to head home. Someone was standing at the entrance to a darker alley, one tucked away from the streetlights and the watchful eyes of the Millelith. Quickening your pace, you were about to pass by when a voice, his voice, stopped you in your tracks.
"My dear, won't you tell me what has drawn your ire?" Zhongli stepped forward, his confused expression revealing his failure to decipher the issue alone. "I am unaware of any shortcoming, but I assure you it was far from intentional-"
"..."
He walked closer, "Pardon?" You looked up at him, hoping you didn't look pathetically sad. "It was Valentine's Day, the day you left for that trip with the Traveler. That's why I had invited you over." His face fell, his immediate regret making it nigh impossible to retain your frustration. "I will not make any excuses, beloved, it was entirely my fault that we could not celebrate such a wonderful day together-"
"It was, yes."
"-and I believe I grasp the value of celebrating love with a romantic partner, so while it won't compare, please join me for dinner tomorrow, where I can properly demonstrate my affections. I recall you liking when I cook, and surely such a thing is enjoyable together."
You pretended to consider the matter, before laughing and accepting his outstretched hand. "I would love to join you, and I hope I may occupy your time through the night as well." You saw his gaze sharpen for a moment before he swept you off your feet and into his arms.
"If I didn't know any better, my love, I'd think you were trying to tempt me."
"Whatever gave you that idea, darling?"
Without setting you down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I believe you wouldn't protest to spending tonight together, as well?" You could feel the laughter rumbling through his chest, could see the smile splitting his face even with your face hidden behind your hands from the embarrassment. "My most adorable lover, I shall never again miss an opportunity to exhibit the extent of my affection for you."
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ghostsvacuumcleaner · 9 months
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Shades of Red
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art in the cover by @ave661 and @shkretart !
chapter one | chapter two | ao3 | masterlist ✩ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x civilian f! reader ✩ Summary: The sole survivor of a terrorist attack that killed over a hundred. The soldier responsible for saving her. He wants to help you, but his own trauma make him withdraw when he wants to get closer and intoxicate when he wants to remedy. He kisses your scars and hopes you'll runaway. He wants you to run away. But you won't. ✩ TW: NSFW, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse and trauma/PTSD, bit of gore, mental illness mentions, slowburn;
A/N: Hello girlies! This is the very first time I get the courage to actually post something I wrote. I've been reading y'all fics behind my screen for so much time now I figured I could start postingggg; so please be gentle with the feedbacks, but be also sincere ♄ also, English is not my first language and although I'm fluent, there might be a mistake or two along the way. Don't feel shy in pointing it out if you see any! Moreover, this will be a long ass one I'm pretty sure, but I might get myself some more courage to post my smut oneshots in some near future. Hope you enjoy! x
Chapter 1 - The Incident | 3.3k
There was ash in the air everywhere. That scenario didn’t frighten him – in fact, Ghost was absolutely sure that at that point in his life, almost nothing could fright him. He had seen much worse things before, he thought silently as he walked towards the building completely destroyed. There was debris everywhere – the building had not collapsed completely, but some parts did not survive the flames and now there seemed to be not even a little bit of life in that place. There were still small portions of flames spread through a few heaps of debris, a terrible smell of wood and burnt concrete; but nothing of that could be worse than the smells of dead, flattered human flesh that once or again invaded his nostrils.
His eyes rolled around in search of any record of life. In vain, he knew: there was no chance that any civilian had survived that. A cruel, dark bombing, a violent and destructive terrorist act. The only goal was to destroy any form of life that could inhabit there, and possibly it had been obtained without any further circumstances. When Price sent the radio search order to all members of the 141, he made it very clear that those efforts were in vain. They would find nothing. We lost today, he said. We could not foresee this, nor can we remedy it. It was a burden they had to cope with on a daily basis - the often inability to do something, to act, was a burden that a soldier should carry. It was part of the job.
Ghost pressed the point button in his ear. “Is anyone listening?” He asked, his eyes checking the entire perimeter of the building behind the skull mask that covered his face. “Have you found something, LT?” Soap answered, his voice hushed by the efforts. “No. I’m making an entrance, there’s nothing out here.” the lieutenant stated, kicking off a few remaining pieces of concrete from the front of his feet and laying the rifle in his hands. Ghost stood in front of the main entrance to the building – that place that should have looked like a reception at some point in the near past - and the movement of his boots against the ground caused the roof above his head to shake a little, and some ash particles fell onto his helmet. He observed the movement, standing still for a few seconds, only for warranty; he did not want to end up becoming one more of those burial victims. 
When the concrete whisper finally stopped stirring his ears, he entered. The lamp of his helmet lit up, and he looked around. His eagle eyes did not lose an inch of that entire perimeter, his ears attentive as those of a bat. He was looking for a sign, whatever it was: a presence, a scream, voices, calls for help. Anything. Anyone.
All he could hear were the sounds of the structure of the building, apparently ready to give in. Ghost tried to enter one of the apartments; his boots sole hit the semi-destroyed grinded surface of the door, and he broke in. He looked around. An enormous smashed chandelier rested violently against the bloody body of a child. 
Many people said Simon was the type of man to have no feelings anymore. That time, scars and trauma had taken from him all and every kind of humanity. He had become a soldier—one of the good, one of the invincible, but nothing aside from that. Nothing but a soldier.
Perhaps that sentence became so repetitive that at some point, he, himself began to believe it. His face remained motionless. The sound of the blood drops hanging on the floor filled his ears, and he snorted for a moment, pressing the point into his ear. “First floor, apartment 102,” he said, coordinating other operators to head to start collecting the bodies. 
His eyes went up to the ceiling, facing the huge blunt in the structure that caused the luster to fall. Maybe the parents' bodies were still there somewhere to be found, he thought. But that wasn’t his job, and unfortunately he didn’t have all the time in the world. He then traced his steps out of the apartment, looking around. As he kept going upstairs, the lantern lit up one hand or another thrown out of a pile of debris. Broken legs, the kinds of horrors that haunt the dreams of ordinary people. 
As Price had said and as he imagined to be fact, there were no survivors. Even when he reached the last floor, without any hope that he would find any movement that were not spasms of lifeless bodies, he tried. He tried to find someone, to do his job with all the mastery he could. His voice echoed through the entire floor, looking for anyone who could answer, but as expected, there was no response.
All that was left was the subsoil, the garage. When he came down the lobby again and found a portion of the staff dragging out some bodies, placing them in black bags, one of the doctors caught his attention. “Lieutenant. Have you finished checking around? Nothing up there?” The man asked, pulling his glasses from the tip of his nose. Ghost is negative. “No, nothing,” he said bluntly.
The doctor seemed to bite his own jaw with some strength, in disappointment. He has baffled. “You don’t even have to check down there. If those above didn’t survive...” he said, giving on his shoulders. Ghost watched him in silence for a few seconds, before finally answering, “Focus on your work, doc. I’ll finish my own.” He said in a nod before starting to push with his crude hands the stones that covered the entrance to the stairs that led to the garage.
His steps echoed. Ghost walked through the parking lot, passed pillar by pillar, checked every car. There were bursting pipes releasing hot steam, a gas leak as well he could tell – and he didn’t want to be there to see what would happen if some kind of ignition occurred. He hastened his steps. He took a deep breath; he was about to press his point and give up, claiming that there were no survivors, but a stifling sound interrupted his action. He looked around, looking for the source of the heavy breath and the little grumbling of pain he heard. His eyebrows cracked almost instantly and he turned around himself, looking around. All his senses were activated at that moment – he began to walk through among the few cars there, following the sound he had heard and then, a hand hitting the air dropped debris to the side of what seemed to be a body. He approached cautiously, throwing the light from his helmet’s lantern in the direction of the sound, and to his surprise, although not perceptible, there was the only survivor of the bombing: you.
A small, female frame shrunk from a pile of debris. Your hair was covered in ashes, your face - the dirty cheeks with the blackness of the material, your arms painted in the scarlet of your blood flowing freely to the ground, glass blades attached painfully to your soft skin. There was a cut down from the top of your forehead until the beginning of your left eyebrow. The completely messy strands of your hair fell against your face, opaque, bright. The expression of fear on your eyes turned into pure terror the moment they met his own, those small cold orbs inside the mask. You instinctively tried to move away from him, push your body away from those debris, away from that huge and frightening man.
When you threw your body to the side, all you could feel was your back against the cold floor, your left leg refused to work. You felt nauseous, stupid, your head turned. Your mouth trembled in a failed attempt to say something, the silence already lasted for seconds enough for you to fear his frame standing ever so tall and quiet. “Please don’t hurt me.” You managed to say, your voice engulfed in a cry that refused to go out. It wasn’t as if it was going to work; if he was one of the terrorists who caused this incident and really wanted to hurt you, then you were at his mercy and there was little you could do about it.
Maybe, if you were in a better mental and physical condition, you’d be able to identify that the rifle in the hands of the man in front of yourself was of a military model. That all his gear pointed out that he was an operator, someone willing to help. Your mind could not process all the necessary information about him at the given moment, although.
“I will not hurt you, lass.” He explained, and for a moment you felt your chest swell in air and it was hard to contain the immense desire to cry. The heavy steps of the man were made against your small, wounded body. He lowered himself, letting the rifle rest next to him quietly. You gulped in dry, still nervous with your eyes raised to his, now a little closer to you. He wasn’t looking at you — he was looking down, seeming to assess how hurt you were. “I’ll tell you what’s happening now. Okay?” He asked, slowly and calmly, his cold eyes now facing your own, visualizing your soul behind the cover of this hurt shell of yours. You stumbled, and he continued. “I’ll take that away from you, and I need you to help me helping you. Alright? You will be well. I just need you to hold your leg and when I push it over, you roll. Understood?” The man asked, his firm and deep voice being the first source of human contact you had since the lightning caused you to wipe out unconscious hours before. You came in for confirmation.
Ghost nodded back and raised his fingers, counting to three. Contrary to what you might have imagined, he didn’t need to do much to lift the huge concrete block that blocked his left leg from moving — he even had some ease in doing so. He held the concrete above his body, his arms backed over you, he sat down. “Roll.” he commanded, and you obeyed as you could. You leaned her hands on the ground and gave a boost; one of your hands instinctively went to the wounded leg, in an attempt to warm up the pain now felt by finally having released it from the rubble. You couldn’t hold a moan of pain, but he was quickly stifled by the sound of concrete hitting the ground when Ghost let it fall back.
You mentally begged that you could endure that. Your eyes were filled with tears, and a certain despair arose through your throat, your mouth. The anguish of finally feeling the unpleasant smell of the environment, the nervousness of realizing that very possibly, few other people survived that disaster, it was overwhelming your already troubled mind. 
Ghost didn’t lose a second in time; he finished positioning the rifle around his body and you felt his arms wrapping you by the waist and the folds of your knees, and he lifted it up with immense ease – it was as if you were featherweight. The gloves in his hands were rough against the sensitivity of your skin, but his touch was as cautious as possible. You could say without a doubt that this soldier of at least twice your height was doing his best not to hurt you any more than you’re already wounded.
“What is your name?” He finally asked, his rifle resting on his back, and you resting over his arms. He wasn’t looking at you – his eyes were fixed ahead, in the direction he was carrying you to, the exit. You answered, and he nodded in acknowledgement. “You can call me Ghost. I am a soldier, yes? We will take care of you.” He said in a clear tactical attempt to calm your nervousness down.
You sat down with your head. “Amelie Miller... Did you find her? My friend, she... did you find her?” You asked, your body trembled as you came to realize his eyes were now boring into yours.
He seemed to look for words that would not hurt you as much as the ones he had to say, but he for one, was not good with words or comforting.
“I’m sorry, girl,” he whispered, in a sigh. “there are no more survivors. You were the only one.”
~ x ~
Your head hurt. Everything hurt; body, arms. There was a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water still sealed in your hands. The look in your eyes was empty, blurred; there were a lot of people there. Many doctors, many operators - soldiers like Ghost. One of them wore a mohican, the other had thick eyebrows. The captain was talking to them in an isolated corner, the doctors were talking to each other about your condition, about what should be done from now on. There were agents from the British intelligence surrounding the site, and there were about hundreds of black bags stretched on the floor, closed. You still felt pain, although the healings now prevented blood from flowing freely through your forehead as before. The glass pieces had been removed from your arms, your face was clean now and even so, you never felt so dirty in your entire life.
Every time you dare to blink, you could swear that you would faint. Your hands were getting weaker, loosening around the bottle. The sudden sound of the bottle falling to the ground caught the attention of one of the men there – the captain. As far as you could realize, he called himself something Price.
“Miss.” He said, coming closer to you. Suddenly, there were eyes on you from every angle possible; all of the other soldiers turned to the ambulance where you were sitting now. You slowly raised your face to look back at Price, and he continued. “I’m not going to ask if it’s okay, this question is rhetorical. You need to be hydrated.” He was bowing down in front of you, taking the bottle he dropped and opening it, offering it to you. Your eyes checked at the bottle for a few seconds and your trembling hand finally grabbed it, drinking until the last drop you could - all at once. You could feel your throat burning, your skin seemed to be in living flesh. The appearance of your wounds was not as unpleasant as the feeling of having them, but you knew that all that would leave you some ugly scars.
You could not care about it now – in fact, couldn’t care about anything at all. Your mind was empty and you never felt so apathetic in such a distressful situation. 
“What am I going to do now?” You asked, in a whisper, your eyes completely lost. “I—what am I going to do...?,” you repeated, and there was nothing but an absolute feeling of raw pain and loss in your voice right at that moment, for as much as you tried to hide it.
Price swelled his chest, and his lips compressed into a line. “You don’t have to worry about anything now. We’ll take care of everything,” he assured. “The government has a great defense program for disasters like this, you won’t be without a roof,” he finished, trying to calm you down. You closed your eyes and shaken your head, but you did not respond. There was nothing to say, nothing to do; what could be done besides trusting that everything would go well? Trust that they would have a plan for you, a shelter, doctors, a chance of living after you were supposed to die in such a horrific way?
You didn’t even know if you wanted all that. Didn’t even knew if you wanted to be the only survivor. Surely not: at that time, you would rather have died among the other more than a hundred people who were now in black bags scattered on the floor in front of you. You felt so much - you felt gratitude for their work, for saving you, but at the same time you couldn’t help but to feel like a fraud for surviving while other died. Others that, somewhat, deserved more than you to live. There was so much in your mind now, but little that you could really synthesize and make sense of.
You drowned your face between your hands, unable to cry, but wanting so deeply to hide from them, from those men, from doctors, from the press, from everything. Wanting to be away from everything, wanting to be dead for once.
A little further away, Ghost observed you. His broad arms crossed, his posture relentlessly perfect as always. His eyes looked at your gestures, scanned your body —all those wounds, poor girl, he thought. Although he was sure there was no more of a heart in his chest, he felt comprehensive towards your emotions. The horrors you had lived in such a short space of time, the unbearable consequences that that meant for your poor mind. The trauma. The pain.
He could not help but think that he saw a bit of himself in you. Not a bit of Ghost – a little bit of Simon. A little bit of the little Simon who felt an immeasurable strain in his chest, a void that could not be filled. 
When the doctors finally helped you to get up in the ambulance and sit on one of the available chairs, your face turned over your own shoulder and you found his eyes stuck to yours. It felt intimidating in some way; perhaps the way his confidence didn’t allow him to look away while you stared at him, or something in the way he seemed capable of reading right through you like a good book of his. He was a savior to you, and somehow it still seemed his persona was conflicting with the one of a savior. He was something else, perhaps still a benefactor, but somehow, a very dangerous man.
There was not a single feeling in his eyes, quite the opposite. There was pure coldness, and yours on the other hand carried some gratitude and ingratitude at the same time. You felt grateful that he had saved you, but at the same time, felt angry at him for not having let you die. You entered the ambulance, and your eyes continued to lock a gaze against his until the moment someone closed the car door from outside.
Ghost turned his eyes at last, and saw Price approaching.
“Fuck.” The captain whispered, laying his hands on his waist, looking at all the misfortune that the incident had caused to that place. “How many bodies?” He asked, looking at Simon with the corner of his eyes.
“A hundred and two so far.” Ghost answered quietly.
“And have you found the bodies of the sons of bitches who did this?” Price said with some disgust and hatred attached to his voice. Ghost assented positively, which made Price crack the dust almost instantly into a distressed expression.
“Motherfuckers.” He grunted, turning to the rest of the team. Soap, who had been remaining in silence for thorough all the search, dared to finally speak.
“We have a lot to report, hm?” He raised his eyebrows, and received a Price assent in response.
“To the headquarters." The captain ordered, making his way to the helicopter that awaited for them, and they left.
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randomfandomblabdom · 10 months
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I really need to vent about how much I like Cal and Merrin's dynamic in Jedi: Survivor cause they've quickly become probably my favorite canon pairing in the franchise.
I absolutely love that this relationship is built on the basis of friendship, respect, and a genuine mutual understanding of each other. From gameplay comments and conversations, Cal is very clearly so enamored with Merrin and literally everything about her. I know it's become a bit of a joke how clearly into her he is but he just thinks she's the most incredible being in the entire galaxy and it's honestly the sweetest thing. The writers could have very easily made his connection to Merrin a weakness or had it where it made his struggle with the darkness harder but I adore that they allowed him to be completely smitten with her and presented it as a strength. It's refreshing not only in Star Wars but in media in general, at least in my opinion. Love being presented as a positive asset is something so deeply missing in media nowadays - especially romantic love. Far too often in this day and age, love is presented as a weakness or something that will only bring you down, so I respect the fuck out of this writing.
Oops, this got really, really long so I'm putting the rest under a cut. It's kind of spitfire, so I apologize if it feels random.
I love how their first kiss is Merrin basically making a split-second decision where she realizes she doesn't want to die without kissing him at least once even if it runs the risk of making things awkward should they survive. Is it cliche as fuck? Absolutely, but it works so well in this instance. Cal being so dumbfounded, gawking at her like a fish, trying to process what the hell just happened that BD has to remind him they're literally about to die is the best thing too.
I appreciate that Cal is so obviously hesitant about giving into any sort of romantic feelings for Merrin because, of course, he would be due to his upbringing. He's pushing so hard against it to the point that he's even completely reluctant to so much as discuss it with Bode when they're on the Lucrehulk. Personally, I don't think Cal is oblivious to their potential feelings for each other. I've never been a huge fan of treating Cal as completely naive. He still might be a bit emotionally stunted, sure but he's lived 10 years outside of the Jedi Order at this point. I think he's hesitant to talk about it because first of all, it's really none of Bode's business but also, if he talks about it, he has to admit it, and if he admits it, that makes it real, and if it's real... well fuck, now he has to do something about it either way which is exactly what he's trying to avoid. I think he's trying to stay as neutral about it as he can until he gets to a point in the story/his arc where he decides he actually wants or feels ready to make a decision. Bode almost gets it out of him too before they're interrupted. The progression of Bode's questioning during that mission is something I actually find really interesting but that's a different topic.
Many people have pointed this out but Cal smiling so brightly while Merrin is clearly freaking the fuck out of Bode is just the cutest thing. Not only because he finds such humor in her scaring the shit out of people for fun when he of all people knows it's a running joke but he also goes along with the joke any chance he gets. He does this even when she's not around. People will be freaked out by her and he still plays along and it's not even like, "Yeah, I know, she's fucking scary bro," it's more like, "Yeah, I know, she can wake the dead, isn't it amazing how scary she is!" Someone else already pointed this out in another post but that feels almost more intimate than any kiss they share. His attraction to her encompasses all sides of her including those that many people find incredibly terrifying and I find that so endearing, he wouldn't ask her to change for anything. He's the only person who genuinely isn't freaked out by her in the slightest but not only that, he finds that side of her to be so incredible. Also, Cal being so blase with Bode about his obvious attraction to Merrin a mission prior and then having the most blatant sexual tension with her in front of Bode in the next scene is peak comedy, I don't care what anybody says. Like, Cal, honey, you just spent the entire previous mission trying to convince Bode (and yourself) there's nothing there and/or you're not pursuing it, so you're not doing yourself any favors by looking at her like that, standing that close to her, and speaking to her with the cadence of a lover bro.
I love that the second Cal walks onto the Mantis after killing Rayvis, she instantaneously picks up on the fact that something's wrong. Literally instantaneously. You can see her face drop the moment she sees him. She just knows something happened. Her ability to read him insanely well is something that is introduced very early on in the game, most noticeably in the campfire scene, and it stays consistent over the course of the story. The following conversation they have is honestly one of the best moments between them in the entire game. It's this type of conversation I've been wanting to see with a Jedi and their potential lover since Revenge of the Sith. He is so open with her even in a somewhat roundabout way about his genuine fear of losing himself and while the conversation is not explicitly about their relationship, the implication is still there and she 100% picks up on it, especially since he wonders aloud why Santari didn't see the change in Dagan before it was too late. Instead of shaming him for his reservations or calling it ridiculous or anything else she could have said at this moment, she instead decides to possibly help curb those fears and give him some comfort regarding it. She goes on to basically tell him in so few words she knows what she's signing up for and is willing to cross those bridges with him if they come. It's a great difference between Cal and Dagan. Though it's never outright stated that Dagan and Santari were in love, I feel like it's... pretty heavily implied, or at least he was definitely in love with her (was I the only one who read it that way??) but whereas Dagan demands that Santari talk him away from the darkness and seems to almost expect her to, Merrin herself plainly offers to do it with no prodding on Cal's part. It doesn't seem to be a burden Cal wanted to put on her, not something he was inherently expecting of her but she willingly offers, it is her choice, she wants to carry that burden with him. While she does seem maybe slightly annoyed by his hesitancy regarding their relationship to each other, she is also so incredibly patient with him while he's stewing over what he wants to do. It's beautiful. As a side note, "A shared dream is not so easy to wake from," is such an amazing line. Seriously, I want merch with that quote on it.
I liked that going through with the relationship was Cal's choice in the end. Merrin didn't push it, she didn't pressure it. She let him bring it up and come to her when he was ready and if that meant potentially being rejected by a man she very clearly adores, so be it, and I have no doubt she would've respected that choice if that's what he'd wanted. I know a lot of people seem to think he only makes this decision due to Bode's questions earlier but it really seems to be a combination of multiple things that lead to this. Bode picking his brain definitely got him thinking about it, maybe more than he wanted to, but I do think the other big part of Cal being willing to go forward with it at this moment is his confrontation with Dagan that, while an illusion, did cause him to come to grips with his own mortality in a way. "How does it feel knowing you're about to die. That your life meant nothing." As Cal says, Dagan uses an extremely powerful force hallucination based on fear here, so while losing himself to the darkness might scare him, his life being completely meaningless is what he seems to fear the most. Cal's journey throughout Survivor encompasses many things but one of them revolves around feeling aimless and finding a purpose, preferably outside of being a hired weapon that will surely and slowly consume him. It's what everyone consistently tells him: find a home, settle down, embrace happiness because it's fleeting, the path you're on is not healthy and will consume you otherwise...etc. His decision here to give in to his romantic attraction to Merrin is a culmination of all of these interactions and conversations he's had throughout the story, how they've influenced his line of thinking, and him coming to his own conclusions regarding what he personally wants and at this moment, when things are finally, calm and everyone is in a good place with a plan going forward, he personally decides there's no point in living up to the expectations of the Jedi when the Order doesn't exist anymore and wants to see where this could go.
I love the fact that when Merrin witnesses Cal's darkness in the ISB, it's made abundantly clear that she's just as afraid of losing him as he most likely is of losing her. I do think a major reason why she was able to talk him down at the moment is that he fundamentally understands what it feels like to lose everything and everyone, your entire livelihood. That is what they first bonded over and it's something that keeps them bonded in the saddest, yet most profound way and he would never want to add himself to the list of people she's lost. She's also doing exactly what she said she would. In an instance where again, she reads him like a fucking book, she can tell just from his responses on the intercom that he's losing himself and is guiding him back. She immediately went to rescue him as she says. No question, no argument, nothing, she simply does it. She made him a promise and she kept it and in that moment, he promises that she won't lose him, he won't allow it. This is a fundamental difference between Anakin and Padme's dynamic and Cal and Merrin's. While Anakin's love for Padme quite famously ends up extremely selfish in an "I would lose myself to ensure you're not ripped away from me" type of way, Cal and Merrin's dynamic is leaning towards a more selfless, "I won't allow myself to be lost because I can't let that happen for your sake," type of way and god damn it, I love it.
There are several interactions they have in gameplay that I'm lowkey peeved weren't included in cutscenes and one of them is when Cal returns to the Mantis after all but demolishing the ISB, they have this really short but great interaction where Merrin says that if he ever feels that way again, he needs to tell her. She doesn't even ask him to do it, she all but demands it, "If you feel that way again, you will tell me." She's demanding communication from him regarding the darkness and he doesn't fight this demand at all. He agrees to respect this request and I fucking love that from both of them. I will genuinely be kinda upset if we don't get a moment like that in the next game.
I like how their kiss after they've successfully navigated the abyss is kind of their first kiss inverted but instead of "omg we might die, I need to kiss you" it's more "holy shit, we survived, I need to kiss you," but instead of Merrin initiating, now it's Cal. I'm probably reading too much into that but whatever, it's cute.
This isn't about any one part in particular but I do love that it looks like the headcanon so many people had regarding Merrin most likely being quite physically affectionate is turning out to be true.
...I think that's enough for now lol I might add on some things later
Apologies for any typos and thanks for indulging my rambling if you got this far.
616 notes · View notes
zoeykallus · 6 months
Note
Hm? A note?
*opens the note and reads*
“I kindly request a Pheromones but with Tech with a mix of predator and prey into this nasty smut. But if you do not want to do this that is fine with me your majesty.”
Finally! Someone's asking me for unhinged Tech Smut đŸ”„đŸ€©đŸ”„đŸ„” I feel like I've waited for this one for years đŸ˜±
And I had so much trouble writing and editing my draft 😅😭 A lot of hours later: "I'm not happy with what I did here 😓
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Warnings: SMUT/Sex Pollen Trope/Unhinged Tech/ Shy Tech Turning Feral/Dubious Consent(!11!1!!)/PiV/Oral/Groping/Biting/Pining/Pinning Down/Restraining/Plus Short Dirty Dream Sequence/Angsty/Creampie/Messy/Fluff (Believe it or not)18+
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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
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>Master List<
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AC: This is very feral Tech, Reader is definitely having fun, but there are possible triggers, so mind the warnings!!! This one is dancing heavily on some very thin lines concerning consent and pleasure/pain. I wasn't even sure if I should post this. Guess there was a lot of pent-up smutty stuff left in my mind about this guy. Okay I tamed the original version down, a good bit, I think it was a tiny bit too much. But still, this is pretty messy.
Update: damn it, I changed this draft so often now, I don't know if it's still readable...
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Wrecker, who playfully bumps into his helmet, nearly knocks Tech off balance. Tech glares angrily at his brother through the lenses of his goggles, but finally sighs and turns back to his holopad. Again and again, his gaze sneaks from his holopad to you, watching Hunter talk to you. Today, you and Tech are to complete a mission, just the two of you. A more or less simple exploration tour. His heart beats faster just thinking about it. You've been traveling with CF99 for a while now, and Tech has had a crush on you practically since day one. You smell good, you're pretty, you're curious, and you always listen to him so intently. He's been blown away from the beginning by your little laugh, the smile, the way you talk, how your fingers move when you're lost in your thoughts. Tech takes in so many little things, by now he knows so much about you, so many wonderful little things that he admires, almost idolizes. But as straightforward and logical as Tech actually is, he can be just as shy.
He hardly dares to exchange a word with you that has nothing to do with work, he hardly dares to look you in the face. So often he has dreamed of you, of touching, kissing and even more, things that have done wild things to his mind and hormones. But he can't bring himself to do it, just doesn't dare touch you. So many times he had been close to just gently touching your hand, or sliding a little closer when you were sitting next to each other, but each time he has backed down. Tech wouldn't know how to deal with you, in theory he's already read everything there is to know about intimacy, romance and the like, but the practice is somehow so damn seductive but also so incredibly scary for him. What if you reject him? What if he kisses you, and it's bad? What if you feel nothing when he kisses you? What if his touches leave you cold? What if he does something wrong, scares you away, or leaves you unsatisfied? With all these questions, his guts tighten, and a heavy pressure builds on his chest. This is a challenge that can't necessarily be tackled with logic. Love doesn't really feel logical, but it feels intense, Tech thinks silently. Another light bump against Tech's helmet snaps him out of his thoughts.
"Cut it out, Wrecker!" "Come on, you two finally alone again? This time you have some guts!" the giant rumbles. Tech hastily glances over at you, but you're still engaged in conversation with Hunter, then he looks at Wrecker and nervously waves his holopad around. "Keep it down, Wrecker, she can't hear this!" he whispers energetically. Wrecker rolls his eyes and laughs softly, "You're way too nervous, I think she likes you a lot too" Tech pauses in his tense movement and asks, "Oh yeah, did she say anything?" "No, but that one particular smile, she only smiles at you like that". Tech's gaze darts back in your direction and that's when he sees it, that smile, his face gets all hot, and he hastily turns back to the holopad in his hands. "You're such an idiot," Wrecker grumbles, "She's smiling heavenly at you, and you're staring at your holopad" "Shut up, please, Wrecker," Tech says tensely.
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The others are on their way, doing their jobs. Tech is finally alone with you. His knees are soft, he feels slightly shaky, and his pulse is permanently slightly elevated, but he's more in control than he suspected. Tech puts on the helmet he customized for you and says, "This helmet has an air filter, just like mine. We don't know what to expect yet, so we'll play it safe." He explains as you look at him questioningly through the visor. He can't really see your face, but he always senses when you look at him. Actually he is annoyed about the helmet, just because he can't see your beautiful face, but Tech also wants to protect you and when you are moving among unknown flora and fauna, this helmet is actually indispensable. "Okay," you say, groping for the helmet with both hands, an unfamiliar feeling. "Don't take the helmet off outside, please," Tech says gently but firmly, "We don't know much about the plants and animals in the area yet" You give him a thumbs up and say, "Okay, got it. We're good to go as far as I'm concerned" Along the way, you carefully take some samples of various plants, take holo-images of the environment, and look at various species of animals from a safe distance. You listen with fascination as Tech comments on some of your observations. It's so nice to spend time alone with him, you like the way he looks out for you.
You discover a cave that is riddled with glowing crystals and mushrooms. You put on your gloves because Tech told you to. "We'd better not touch anything with our bare hands for now," he notes. You nod and reply, "Sounds reasonable." With a gloved finger, you poke a neon-red glowing, thick mushroom, which then begins to blink and emit a thin cloud of spores. Tech leans over and says, "See, this is why we have the helmets, we don't know what these spores might do, hallucinations, fevers, toxic reactions..." You nod and say still intrigued, "It's blinking, like an alarm light" "Indeed" Tech looks at his watch and says, "We've been walking for a few hours, maybe we should head back" With a nod, you agree and follow him out of the cave.
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Something is wrong, he is way too warm, the outside temperatures are not that high, but his body temperature seems to keep rising. He feels strange, maybe Wrecker knocked his helmet a few too many times, maybe his filter wasn't working properly. Tech quickened his steps, and you tried to keep up with him in surprise. Arriving at the Marauder, Tech takes off his helmet, and you can tell something is wrong, the expression on his face, that slightly glazed look. "Are you okay?" "I don't know," Tech admits, "I'm very warm, and I have a headache." He blinks in surprise as you start to help him take off his gear, but he allows it to happen, he also lets you push him into his bunk and tuck him in. "You must be overworked," you say gently, "You're always working, around the clock. At some point, your body just can't keep up with your mind, Tech." He blinks, accepts the water you brought him, and says, "Maybe you're right." He likes the way you take care of him, fluffing his pillow, covering him up, bringing him water and putting a cool, damp cloth on his forehead. He feels miserable right now, but he literally melts at every little thing you do for him.
"I'm sure a few hours of sleep will do you good," you say with conviction and a soft smile. Tech looks at you from wide, glassy eyes, he gets lost in that smile of yours, and before he can pull himself together he says, "Can you stay here, with me?" "Oh," you say in surprise, "Sure." You lie down in the bunk across from his, barely two steps away from him. Tech turns to the side, so he can look at you. You say with a smile, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you". Tech's ears turn red as he smiles back. At a certain point, you both fall asleep.
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His dreams are wild, very wild, much wilder than usual. Intimate dreams are not unknown to him, but this one is very intense. He watches you suck him while his hands on the back of your head give you a wild pace, shortly after he pins you to the floor and plows his hard cock through your pussy while you gasp, sigh, moan and whimper under him. Then he spins you around and shoves his length into the tight little hole between your buns, taking you so fast and hard that the clash of bare skin, echoes loudly off the walls. His hand is in your hair, pulling at it as he thrusts ever more savagely into the tightness of your butt. Tech tears open his eyes, feeling even hotter than before, his thoughts a wild jumble of sexual acts. His cock pulses hard under his blacks, almost painfully. Everything inside him burns and screams to grab you, to take you, to taste you, to fuck you. He moans softly and wipes his forehead, a very small part of him knowing that he's thinking and intending very naughty things right now, that he actually needs to pull himself together. But this small part is lost in the wild, feverish racket of his suddenly felt hundredfold intensified sexual desires.
He is so tense with horniness that a slight tremor goes through his body. He looks over at you, you are still asleep, you are still alone and will probably be for a while. Automatically, almost of his own accord, he takes off his blacks. He looks down at himself, he doesn't see much, it's still dark, but his cock is clearly standing at full size. Against all reason that tries to survive somewhere under the wild chaos of sex thoughts, he walks over to the bunk you are lying in. In between he hesitates, this little part of him is only small, but stubborn. "You can't do that, it's indecent, you'll scare her... it's wrong..." he whispers to himself, and yet he keeps coming closer to you.
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You feel someone climb into your bunk or sit on the edge and slowly awaken from your slumber. Your eyes do not immediately adjust to the darkness. You blink, there is someone, in your bunk, you are uncovered and that someone is bent over you. "Tech? Is that you?" you ask, confused and not yet in your right mind. Your fingers grope for the nightlight and turn it on. It's not particularly bright, but enough to clearly see the naked Tech kneeling above you on your bunk. Your gaze lingers briefly on his hard length, thick, long, gently curved, the tip slightly red and swollen, a trickle of precum on the small slit. You look up at him, startled. "What's going on here?" you ask, perplexed, completely bewildered by the unexpected situation. He's not touching you yet, but you can still feel his body heat already. "Tech, you must have a fever- wait what are you doing!" Ignoring your words, Tech reaches under your sleep shirt for the waistband of your panties and sets about pulling them down. "Need you, need to smell you, taste you, feel you," he stammers as if delirious with fever.
When you automatically grab his hands in surprise to stop him, he fends you off and tugs impatiently at the fabric until it tears. You let out a startled little scream as he rips the fabric from your body, and right after that, impatiently, your sleep shirt. His eyes get even bigger behind the lenses as he sees you naked in front of him. "Tech, what are you doing....?" you ask quietly. He grabs your wrists, rips a strip off the sheet and goes to tie your hands together, but you fidget and stubbornly resist. He grabs your hands and pins them down, glaring at you impatiently. "Tech, what the fuck!" "Need you, need you to comply," he says hoarsely. "I don't understand," you say quietly. He looks at you, feverish, almost desperate, "I need to taste you and smell you and feel you, I need to have you!"
His words make you nervous, it doesn't sound like him at all, neither the pitch nor the way he said them.
Tech smells your hair and shivers, as do you. You feel his legs pushing your thighs apart, his pelvis thrusting between them and his cock pressing down on your pubic, rubbing against it. You let out a small surprised moan as the friction drives heat and wetness into your pussy.
He moans softly and repeats, "I need you." You've been into Tech for a while, but this wasn't really Tech, was it? Again he tries to bind your wrists, this time he's faster, and a little rougher, overpowering your flagging resistance and finally tying them to the headboard of the bunk. Your pulse races, your heart hammers in your chest. A startled, surprised squeak comes from your lips as he presses up against you, and dig his teeth into your shoulder, not hard enough to really hurt you, but hard enough to leave pressure marks. He licks over the spot, kissing it as his hands travel down your body. You're hot and cold, thoroughly aroused, but this seems so foreign. His body is burning hot, you are sure he has a fever. You want to tell him that he needs a doctor, but at the same moment his mouth moves to your breasts, and he begins to lick and suck your nipples, his long fingers greedily embracing the soft flesh. Your head is swept clean. You loll under him, sighing softly, he presses his lap into the mattress as he moves down your body, a low rumble coming from his chest as he sucks your nipples and rubs against your body.
Suddenly he rises, kneeling higher over you, his hard cock hovering just in front of your mouth. You blink and look past his hard length up into his face. His hand roughly grips your chin, pushing it higher, then he demands, "Open." Nervously, you open your lips as he finally presses his tip against them, letting him in. Your tongue automatically presses against the underside. You see him shiver, and hear him moan. Admittedly a nice feeling and a delightful sight. But Tech is under pressure, under fire. He grips your head and pushes further until you gag and your eyes tear as he fucks your mouth. His whole body trembles with tension. You stare up at him, having no idea how long you can keep this up or what to do when you can't anymore. But it doesn't take long, you feel him throbbing in your mouth, Tech moans out, then his semen shoots down your throat and mouth. You swallow in surprise as best you can. There's quite a bit. He pulls his cock out of your mouth again. Some of his semen trickles down your chin, but you can't wipe it away because of your bound hands. He keeps moving, his lips and tongue roaming from your breasts down, over your belly, faster and faster, as if they're impatient.
You start breathing faster the closer he gets to the heated triangle between your thighs.
There is something tugging at you, a craving, a want, something you didn't know before you had. It's weird, all of this, yet you feel you want this, you want him.
Then he's finally there, you hear him take a deep breath, feel him shakily expel the air on your wet folds. While you're still shuddering from the soft draft, his mouth is suddenly on your pussy, his tongue heatedly exploring your folds. A surprised squeak escapes you, followed by a gasp as his tongue glides over your pearl, repeating the motion several times in quicker succession. You have no idea how he does it, but his tongue is so nimble and strong, getting wilder and wilder. Your thighs tremble around his head, the gasps from your throat become faster and faster, mixing with hoarse moans. Tirelessly, his tongue flicks over your swollen, pulsating clit, again and again and again. You mewl in arousal, stir in your bonds. The feeling of his soft, wet tongue dancing on your sweet spot, that bundle of nerves is delicious.
He's rutting his cock into the mattress while he licks and sucks your clit, moaning as he does so, humming, muffled by your pussy where you very clearly feel the vibration, an added stimulus. You don't know what's gotten into him, at the moment you can't get a clear thought either. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you think back to the red glowing mushroom in the cave.
No matter how surprised and overwhelmed you are right now, you are also incredibly horny. Your abdomen trembles, your thighs quiver, the tension, the tingling and pulsating is heading towards a climax.
Tech's tongue gets faster, flicks your little clit in rapid fashion. Your abdomen tenses, your walls clench around nothing.
You almost cry out as you tip over the edge into your climax. Tech continues to lick your clit, a little too long, you become hypersensitive, and you jerk under his touch, but his hands grab your hips hard and hold you in place, pushing you into the sheets. He's still rutting his cock into the pad of the bunk, and his tongue finds your dripping opening. A little cry comes over your lips as Tech slips his tongue between your slick walls and wiggles around inside, starting to lick you out like you're candy. He's greedy, and intense and he's making a mess. "TECH!" He growls, not a word, not really a response, just a growl. His nose keeps pressing against your hypersensitive pearl, but every twitch of yours is held in check by his hard grip. "This is too much, Tech, too much!" You see him twitch, another growl, he rolls his glassy, reddened eyes back for a moment. You realize he's cumming in the sheets.
He finally lets go of you for a moment, sits up, somewhat breathlessly wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and forearm, wipes away your juices and his saliva. His sweaty chest rises and falls heavyly. Tech still looks feverish, his eyes still wild and without focus. "Not enough," he says, slightly hoarse, smoky, "More!" You see that his length is still hard and erect. Then you see his gaze fall between your legs, you automatically want to close your thighs, you don't really want any more over-stimulation, but he pushes himself in between. Automatically, you want to use your hands, but they are still tied to the head of the bunk. Tech lies above you, pressed against you, his body still glowing hot. He seems to be wrestling with himself, hesitating, but only briefly. In the next moment, he has brought his tip to your hole and is penetrating you, parting your moist folds and plunging deep inside you. He's quite long and thick, you feel him stretching and filling you. "Fuck," you curse softly.
It hurts a little, but somehow it also feels so damn good. He's leaning on his hands, hovering half above you, his cock deep inside you. Sweat is on his forehead, his muscles are shaking, his reddened eyes keep blinking. He looks strained. You realize he's trying to hold back right now, but barely managing it.
This is not your sweet and shy Tech.
He starts to move, dragging his cock a bit out of your sensitive entrance, and right after that he pushes forward into you again. Slowly at first, but he gets faster and faster. He half sits up, pulling you to a different angle as he does so he can push deeper inside you. Tech moans, gasps, makes little sounds you've never heard before, every now, and then he stammers words you don't understand. His hips move faster and faster, the sound of naked skin meeting naked skin fills the room. You didn't expect it, but your arousal picks up again and as if Tech sensed it, a hand moves between you and his fingertips, deftly find your pearl. A hoarse sound passes your lips as his cock inside you, as well as his fingers on your clit, speeds up. As if of their own accord, your legs close around his hips as your thighs begin to tremble.
His name comes moaning over your lips, again and again. He stares at you, but his eyes are still so glazed and wild that you don't know if he's really looking at you. A shudder goes through his body, a twitch, then he growls softly, you feel his cock twitch and pulse in your cleft, his warm seed filling your pussy. Every other thrust, accompanied by a squelching sound. Shortly after, the knot in your abdomen loosens, tingling all the way to the tips of your toes. But Tech doesn't stop, he's still hard, thrusting into your pussy filled with his seed. "More," you hear him say in a shaky voice. You moan, "Tech, I can't take anymore." You don't know if he really understood you, perceived the words, but he pulls his cock out of your pussy with a wet smacking sound, grabs your hips and turns you onto your stomach. Your heart races, you're not sure what he's up to. His length is still full of his juices and yours as he pushes it lengthwise between your buns. His hands grip your buns pretty hard and squeeze them together as he begins to rub his cock in the crease between them.
He moans, gasps and trembles. You are glad that he has refrained from sticking it in your ass. Without preparation, that would have been very unpleasant. Tech rubs himself against your buns, panting, trembling. He suddenly slows down, then you feel his warm load splashing on your buns and your back. By now you are full of his cum, in and on you, even the bunk is full of it, everything is sticky. Tech, of all people, who is very conscious of his hygiene, has made this mess. His breath is getting shaky, you hear it, feel his cock finally softening on your buns. "Oh maker... oh no... oh hells no...", you hear him whisper, in his tone a desperation that is hard to overhear. You pull at your bonds and say as calmly as you can, "Please, Tech, untie me." "Oh my goodness, of course, right now.... I'm so sorry... really so sorry..." he continues to stammer and with trembling hands he loosens your bonds. Finally, you can sit up, turn around and look at him. His eyes are back to normal, no longer glassy, nor reddened, but his cheeks and ears are red, and the expression on his face completely desperate and ashamed. He hastily grabs a pillow to cover his crotch as you look at him.
"I'm so sorry," he says softly, almost whispering, barely managing to look at you, his gaze jerking away again and again, "I felt everything, perceived everything, but it was like my body was just a doll, controlled by overwhelming sexual desire...my mind had no control." "I figured something wasn't normal," you say dryly, looking down at yourself, "I'm all sticky," you grumble softly. "Oh maker, please don't hate me now, I couldn't stand that" he says, ducking his head. You laugh softly and say, "I'm never touching any mushrooms near you again". He doesn't feel like laughing, and your attempt to loosen him up unfortunately fails. You say softly, "Tech, well, before all this happened, you and I really liked each other, didn't we? I mean, we were just a little too shy to interact more." Tech blinks and lifts his eyes after all. His cheeks are flushed as he clears his throat and says meekly, "I've been in love with you for a long time, if that's what you mean." You feel heat rising in your cheeks and your heart beating faster. "Yeah, that's what I meant" you say nodding "The feeling was mutual by the way". Tech's eyes grow wide behind his goggles, but then he lowers his gaze again. "I guess I ruined that now".
"No," you contradict him, "you didn't. The fungus has twisted your senses, or whatever you want to call it. Nothing is broken because of it yet." Cautiously, Tech raises his eyes again. "I'd like to make you a proposition," you say softly as he looks at you. Tech nods and says, "I'm all ears." "You and I are going to take a shower together, nice and relaxed. We'll wash, maybe each other, some tender touches, no pressure, no expectation, just enjoy each other's closeness. Some tenderness after this, little disaster?" Tech blinks several times and asks, "You would still let me touch you?" You nod and admit, "It's not like I wasn't having fun at all. Besides, that wasn't really you, but I'd still like to get to know the real Tech better." Tech smiles, stands up and after a moment's hesitation, puts away the pillow he was covering his crotch with. He takes your hand and helps you out of the sticky bunk.
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Under the warm stream of water of the shower, you both slowly relax, Tech letting his tension escape with a sigh and smiling at you as you look over your shoulder while he gently washes your back. Tech says tenderly, "You're gorgeous, by the way". Your ears get all hot and a tingle spreads through your stomach as you say, "You're not bad yourself, handsome" Suddenly you hear voices, the boys must be back from their errands. Then you hear a curse and Crosshair yelling loudly, "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BUNK!!!" You look up with a soft, "Uh oh," at Tech who then whispers, "Oh. That's probably bad." "He's going to kill us," you say, biting your lower lip suppressing a grin, "We really made a hell of a mess." "Indeed," Tech says dryly, "I'd say we stay in here for now until he calms down." "That could take a long time" Tech smiles mischievously, "I don't mind"
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@rintheemolion
@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99
@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310
@misogirl828 @tech-deck
@meshla-madalene
@chxpsi
@thebahdbitch
@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri
@darkangel4121
@ttzamara
@arctrooper69
@padawancat97
@agenteliix
@allsystemsblue
@palliateclaw
@either-madness-or-brilliance
@ortizshinkaroff
@andy-solo1
@hunterssecretrecipe
@heyitsaloy
@greaser-wolf
@extrahotpixels
@hated-by-me
@hunterxcrosshair
@malicemercy
@bebopsworld
@echos-girlfriend
@cpnt616
@dangraccoon
@jediknightjana
@pb-jellybeans
@antishadow2021
@sleepycreativewriter
@projectdreamwalker
@1vlouds
220 notes · View notes
doublerainebow · 7 months
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Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Look, I gotta be honest, I've never actually watched One Piece outside of the episodes that would air on Toonami back in the day, and I only really cared enough about it because my brother-in-law and my irl best friend both LOVE One Piece... and now my older brother is getting into One Piece too... but like I said in a previous post, I caved and ended up watching the One Piece Live Action (though I guess it didn't help that seeing Taryn cosplay as Zoro kinda reawakened my crush on ZoloZoro as a 4kids)... and I'm also sick right now and I have nothing better to do than write some Zoro boyfriend headcanons apparently. Aside from watching the OPLA, I did do my research on Zoro.. research being reading his page on the OP Wiki 😂😂
Okay, I'm rambling too much and this is still the introduction asdfghjkl
EDIT: Added the links lmao
~ Masterlist ~
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The way Mackenyu said that he looked at his wife and knew that he wanted to marry her (supposedly, I couldn't find any concrete sources for this save for a YouTube video using TTS... but hey, it fed my imagination for this), I felt that so much for Zoro.
Of course, it doesn't happen overnight for Zoro. It takes a while, maybe even years, for him to look at you and be like, "I wouldn't mind settling down with you if possible." Oh boy, but when it does happen, he becomes very perceptive of you.
Just like his training, he takes his relationship with you very seriously, and even if he doesn't act on his feelings for you straight away--because one, he has a strong sense of duty to Luffy first, and two, you'd be his first and maybe only romantic partner ever--he'd still reserve a certain amount of softness and gentleness to you when not in the presence of others.
Let's go back to Zoro's perceptiveness really quickly. Yes, my man can be a dumbass at the best and worst of times and we all love that about him, but when it comes down to what's important, he knows how to analyze and read the situation. So, because he views you as someone important and someone he should take seriously, he's going to personally be making sure that you're okay, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He's that dedicated to you.
There will be times where his loyalty to Luffy might have to take center stage in the relationship, especially if its during a critical juncture, rest assured that he will do his best to make it up to you afterwards. He doesn't voice it often because of his strong loyalty to Luffy, but there are brief times in which he wishes that he could just spend time with you.
Now, Zoro isn't one for PDA, he gets very embarrassed by it because showing affection in public isn't something that he's comfortable with doing, but, get him out of public and into private, that man is on you, no question. The most affection he's comfortable with showing in public is you two taking a nap together, or even sharing a bottle together (which is very hard to get him to do, the man loves his alcohol, so congrats if you manage it).
As an official romantic partner, he's actually very sweet. Yes, he can come off as very blunt and cold sometimes, but he's just being honest with you. To him, its more important to be truthful than to sugarcoat things. For you, however, he's working on saying things more gently if in the case you get hurt by his initial blunt tendencies. Past that, however, he tends to you with the same care he tends to his swords. He sees a fruit or snack that you adore in the markets when he's helplessly lost? He'll absolutely buy it for you. Finds an item you've been wanting for a while? Don't worry, he's already paying for it. He finds out that you maybe feel a bit homesick? He'll begrudgingly ask Sanji to cook one of your favorite hometown dishes. He sees that you're feeling down on yourself? He's there to either quietly lend an ear or his presence, whichever you need. My man is an attentive boyfriend.
Also also, Zoro is a man of few words, so don't expect to hear him say, "I love you," very often, but that's okay. He's a man of few words, but his actions speak so much for him. You can feel him say those words in the way he kisses you thoughtfully, in the way he holds you so securely to him when you two nap or sleep together, in the way he dutifully monitors your alcohol intake (if you drink alcohol of course), in the way he tends to you carefully if you get hurt in a fight. To him, words are useless and actions mean so much more.
In other words, Zoro would make the best boyfriend in his special own way.
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factual-fantasy · 7 months
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I haaaasss 27 asks :}
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Yes. Yes it does.
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Thank you! :DD And yeah canon Gregory is just not my vibe man XD
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(Traffic cone in question)
Thank you so much! :DD And yeah I try my best to get up and do something productive/different when I'm feeling down like that. My thought process is "well sitting here and sulking isn't making me feel any better so I should go and do something else" Which just so happened to be breaking out the old sewing kit and making a traffic cone?? XD Well to be fair I've made like 10 of those before but still an odd choice on my part-
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Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked my cars artwork! :DD
And yeah I would draw cars stuff more often but they're just so hard to draw :(
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Idk why they decided to jump into a DLC before fixing the base game, but man I really wish they wouldn't have. 😔
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I'll do my best! :D
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@tallchest13-blog
Yes :} or at least I've been trying to-
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Thank you so much! And I did use a pattern to make him. Credit for the patten goes to Tammy Hallam, heres her video on how to make your own too! :}
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@montygatorshusband
AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD
As for Glamrock Bonnie,, ehh, its a bit odd to me. Not a huge fan of the color pallet but its not the worst I've seen. I'd give it a 5.5 outa 10
ALSO! I believe Octonauts is streaming on Netflix, but I've also had some luck finding full episodes on YouTube :0
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Thank you! And oh yeah, I feel you on the fandom part. XD That's why I'm still kind'a on the fence and haven't dove head first into my usual angsty stuff. I'm kind'a testing the waters with every post I make to see if I'll collide with the uh, other side of the fandom :x
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Thank you! :DDD
Also Google is a search engine. :0 If you search for Octonauts fanart, its gonna do its job and search for fanart and likely find some of the stuff I made. Notice though that all of my artwork shown on Google links directly back to my blog. Its because Google isn't stealing it, its parting the branches of a bush and pointing "Look! Over there is some Octonauts fanart like you requested!" XD
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@pinkbomb08
There isn't really anything Gregory can do for Bonnie..
Its hard to explain,, but I'll try. Bonnie is missing his leg from the middle of his shin down. So he cant stand up right like Foxy because- well duh, he's missing a whole foot.
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So order to fix Bonnies leg so he can stand/walk like Foxy does, he would need an entire replacement foot with a working joint. This would also mean that the wires in Bonnies legs would have to be replaced and hooked up so that he can control said new foot.
Currently there are no spare parts around that fit Bonnies model.. and even if they did, Gregory wouldn't know how to properly re-wire an animatronic foot. He's smart but not THAT smart <XDD
The only thing Gregory could do is make Bonnie a weird peg leg that makes his current leg longer. Currently Bonnies half leg is shorter than his good leg. But in all honesty Bonnie doesn't really want that.
Having Gregory ducttape this weird goofy peg leg to him would be more embarrassing then what he already has. He'd probably want to salvage what ever dignity he has left and say "ah give it a rest. There's no point. My legs good enough for what its for." <:/
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@taizarack
If I remember correctly... Sometime ago my tablet pen broke. And it took like 2-3 weeks for a new one to arrive. In the mean time I tried to make an art doll of sorts. That doll was Bibi!
I ended up making a lot of goofy posts with Bibi and I as I waited for my pen to arrive. Once it finally did and I went back to drawing comics, I ended making Bibi a reoccurring character. And he's been around ever since!
Now Jangles is a Halloween prop that I bought because I thought it was funny. I was practicing making quilts one time and I made a small blue one that just so happened to be the right size for him. So I put it on and then I thiiink I got the idea to add Jangles to my blog as a joke.? I gave Bibi a "new friend" to celebrate hitting 10,000 followers. The new friend was a cropped png of jangles XD
Eventually down the line I wanted to give Bibi an proper friend. So for Bibi's birthday I drew a comic where Jangles came to life and here we are XD
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@pinkbomb08
Currently I am getting none of those things :x I have a cold so sleep and food is hard :( Thank you though! :D
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@notsoliyah
:D AW!! Thank you! I'm so glad to hear how I've inspired you! :}}
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@ur0neand0nly
XD Thank you so much! And don't worry, I'm pretty confident I'll draw him again someday
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XD Thank you. To be honest I'm kind'a going back and fourth on this fandom. I don't really wanna be apart of the fandom, but the characters are the only thing I'm interested in drawing atm soo-
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@ardent-38
Ooo these are interesting! Although absorbing power ups isn't about digesting them. Its something about being human specifically that allows them to absorb the powerups.. 👀👀👀
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@maddiethehatter2192
My advice would be to use references religiously. That's what I did!
Also thank you! :DD
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Barnaby for sure.
Well, my interpretation of him really-
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@taizarack (Post in question)
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@funky-frankie
No there's no SpongeBob comic, I just felt like drawing Mr. Krabs XD
Also THANK YOU!! :DD That means so much!! :}}}
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@elegysonnet
<XD thank you. So far I have some pretty basic ones I imagine. Wally's house is alive and evil, Julie is actually a scary monster but has drastically altered her appearance to look less scary.. Sally is very celestial in nature because she's a real star, Eddie used to be a real human and bleeds and has a heart beat and what not.. uuuuuuh what elseeee,,, I liked to imagine that Sally and Julie came to the neighborhood when they were really young and Poppy kind'a adopted them?? Although I don't know how wide spread that idea is XD
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Thank you! And yeah I'm not very fond of that portrayal either <XD As for your questions..
1: I'm sure there would be somethings that would push his anxiety to the surface. I'm not sure what they'd be but still- I imagine if Luigi was around to see it he would try to get Mario out of what ever situation he's in. If he's in a crowd he'd try to help him slip away unnoticed.
2: I'm not familiar with the giga bell, but if I did add it I'd imagine those would be the side effects yeah <XD Really sore and tired and cant really move for like 3 days :x
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Remodeled or not, I wont be adding any of those animatronics to the Pizzaplex. I already wrote the entire past of this timeline, and those bots all already have a story in my AU. And with their given stories it wouldn't make sense for them to be added to the Pizzaplex.
Of course I cant spoil what those stories are, just know that I have my reasons-
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Oh yeah I forgot to add the colored eye lids to Wally and Barnaby in that trampoline drawing <XD
And yeah! I wanted Wally to be much more expressive so I gave him eyebrows-
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@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson
Aw, thank you so much!! Its so cool to hear that you've shared my name with your friends!! :DD
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st-eve-barnes · 4 months
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How are we all feeling the day after??
I wanted to make a post and maybe nobody cares but there's just a few things I want to get off my chest after yesterday.
First of all I LOVED the sense of community on here, how we all anticipated this new content as if it was Christmas coming early, how we freaked out over every new photo and clip together, feeling anxious and overly excited, this is what fangirling is all about for me. A HUGE thank you to everyone who shared videos, took the time to make gifs and edits. I'm not going to name blogs or tag people in this post but you all know who you are. This fandom is blessed with all of you❀
Next up: Ewan❀❀ I had some concerns beforehand knowing he's so introverted but I feel so proud of how he handled this whole thing, so happy to see him happy and see how warm the fans accepted him and made him feel loved. Brazil, you did an amazing job! You could tell it really helped him feel comfortable as well, and while he was clearly very nervous I could see the joy and how proud he was whenever he gave a great answer. Prepared or not, that doesn't matter, it was wonderful to hear him talk so thoughtfully about Aemond. I also loved how open and sweet he seemed, hugging everyone, engaging with fans and even taking selfies afterwards. I had NOT expected that part and it makes me so hopeful for the future.
But...you know I was getting to the bad stuff, right?
I also got severe flashbacks from previous fandoms yesterday and I did not like it one bit.
The more content there is the more people have opinions. They don't like what he's wearing or how he/his hair looks, they analyze his every move in the panels, question his answers or worse question his entire personality and sexuality.
Even if some comments feel harmless it's all a lot of negative energy that gets put out there. And it opens doors we should not open.
Can we as a fandom please stay out of Ewan's love life/sexuality? It has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with us or why we all adore him so much. It changes nothing about who he is, it does not affect your own life at all. Literally not at all.
You don't like his outfit? Cool, that's fair, it was a bold choice, I understand it's not everyone's cup of tea. But is it really necessary to point that out and make several posts about it?
I know this is the internet generation's right to state their opinion on everything, and maybe this is my age showing, but sometimes there is truth in "If you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all."
I don't want this to be a call out post because it's not and I'm the last person to call people out, I've made comments in previous fandoms as well that I'm not proud of, I think we all have esp in the heat of the moment. And maybe I'm too sensitive because I've seen it happen in other fandoms, how quickly the negativity and gossip can take over and ruin a good thing.
I don't want this to happen to this fandom cause despite some petty drama it's been such a fun, amazing space for me over this past year and I'd like that to continue.
I guess this a general soft request to all of us to be a little kinder next time we get new content, maybe don't be so critical and just enjoy what we're getting?
(Because lord knows chances are he's going back into his cave for months now lol)
Anyway, I don't want to end on a negative, yesterday was amazing and I'm still shaking. I feel so proud to support Ewan, he's really something special, I feel that even more after yesterday. And despite the negative I'm also proud to be part of this fandom and this little community on here and I'd love to freak out with all of you a lot more often in the future ;)
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unperceivable-future · 3 months
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oh, you're abominable socially; you're just a little bit too much like me
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Hawks/Takami Keigo x AFAB!Reader
Content warning: English is not my best language and this was not really proof-read. Foul language. Sexual content. Heavy mentions of sexism and inappropriate sexist/powerplay behaviour. Reader is sleazy (but it is part of the play). AFAB!Reader. Mommy kink. Oral sex (both F and M receiving). Slight cock and ball torture?. Keigo is domesticated like a dog lol. Keigo has foot fetish (I refuse to apologise). BDSM and powerplay. Overstimulation. Mentions of safe-wording or tapping out. Possibility of sub-droppping.
Synopsis: Is this how men feel when they have this amount of power over women? If so, you couldn't possibly blame them for the way they act.
Notes: @takami-takami needs to stop enabling my bad behaviour. They fr need to stop putting ideas in my head. Also I was listening to Hermit the Frog by MARINA on repeat. OH and!!! This is my first ever smut posted iirc. If I catch any minors or ageless blogs interacting with my blog, it is an automatic block. I've been there and unrestricted internet access as a minor is fucking damaging so please, do not interact with my post.
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There has to be something wrong with the two of you.
Actually, screw that. There is definitely something wrong with the two of you.
There is absolutely nothing normal with how you'd slap Keigo's ass in the sleaziest way possible while the pretty little bird himself flinches in embarrassment. It's degrading, really. And a normal person would throw hands if somebody lands such disrespectful gesture on them.
But there is nothing normal with the way Keigo flinches sluttily, his hips rocking slightly to hump the air with his weeping hard dick.
The squeaky moan he lets out brings delight to your brain, dragging you both to hell.
"You're just gonna take that, sweetheart?" You sneer. And instead of squaring up, he shrinks in humiliation---refusing to speak up.
"Aww, don't tell me you're embarrassed?"
"Mommy...you're being too mean to me." Keigo whines pitifully. His pitch high, voice cracked from the strain.
"Shut the fuck up or I'll show you mean real soon, Keigo." You snap back.
"S-sorry mommy!"
Is this how men feel when they have this amount of power over women? If so, you couldn't possibly blame them for the way they act.
You leave Keigo be for now, letting him finish up his chore of washing up. You pour yourself another glass of your drink and make your way back to the couch, eyeing him like he's nothing but a piece of meat.
But that's what he is, isn't he? He should've covered up more if he didn't want you to stare. But his skimpy ass maid outfit says that he definitely loves the attention. The lingerie lacy and it barely covers his ass. It can't even cover his hard dick, not even his heavy balls that escape the thongs he's wearing.
You toy the little remote in your hand and watch your babyboy shiver from where he's standing. His pretty vermillion wings keeping still, his pouty pink lips bitten down so he doesn't moan like a little bitch.
After all, he wasn't allowed to talk or make movements outside your command. And Keigo is just so fucking obedient you want to test him further, torment him as he finishes washing up the dishes.
He stops himself from trying to hump against the counter, his arms shaky as he furrows his brows and concentrate at the chore at hand.
"You know, maybe we should do this more often. Makes my life easier." You taunt him.
You wouldn't need to ruin your soft and manicured hands with dishsoap and warm water if Keigo is the one scrubbing down the pots and pans.
The sight of Keigo working hard and keeping his composure makes you cross your legs. The sight of his suffering gets you soaking. You squeeze your thighs tighter.
Keigo finishes the dishes, drying his hands stiffly. He looks at you with uncertainty, unsure what to do next but cannot voice himself to ask.
"Come here, baby." You beckon his sweetly, kind enough to entice him and he wobbles to your direction unused to the black heels he wears and the medium vibration up his prostate doesn't help.
He settles himself on the fluffy rug, by your foot because he's just a dog and that's his place: obediently below you.
You uncross your legs, a foot landing on his crotch and you internally commend on how Keigo managed to stop himself from rutting against you. He looks up to you with wide doe eyes. His golden orbs are glossy, cheeks flushed.
"I've had a long day." You drag your pedicured toes up his chest, a prompt for him to get to work.
"Of course, mommy." Keigo eagerly nods and his clammy hands start rubbing circles on your soles.
Is this what men see from their eyes? Subservient women on their knees rubbing their feet from all the hard work of maintaining patriarchy? It makes a lot more sense why men are so against this whole equality thing, otherwise how else will they be able to keep their wives at their rightful place?
You turn up the vibration, opting to take out your frustration and delight on Keigo instead. He flinches.
"Mommy, please can I---" Keigo lowers your foot with his hands, trying to be discreet with how his weeping cock rubs against you. You pull your foot away and slightly kick his balls.
"No. Get back to work." Keigo nods shakily, letting out the world's cutest whimper.
"'m sorry mommy." He sounds meek, sounds so unlike his pro-hero persona.
The problem here is that Keigo is too obedient, too good at what he's doing. His thumbs knead on your foot and your calf hard as if he's subconsciously taking out his frustration on you and that makes him an effective masseur. It makes you sigh in pleasure.
You weren't really lying that you had a long day. Breaking down patriarchy is hard work after all.
Keigo huffs out a whine when you pull your leg away from his tender hold, looking at you with a pout and scrunched brows.
You lean back the couch, spreading your legs the way you've seen Keigo did on regular days.
"You wanna ea---"
"YES!" If it weren't for how enthusiastic Keigo is, you would have berated him for interrupting your kind offer.
"Go on then." And he dives in, trying his best not to overpower and manhandle you with the way his large arms curl around your thighs and pulling you towards his mouth.
For someone who has such good control over his body and his actions you'd think that Keigo would have more finesse and poise when eating you out. But he doesn't. He eats like an animal starved and he whimpers at every tug of his wheat blond hair, growls and groans whenever your toes sink and curl into his red plumage. You feel your body jolt at his flinch, his grip on your legs tighter as he pulls away for a deep breath. You catch the way he hazily licks his lips before helping himself another serving of you.
Any insults you thought of throwing his way dies down in your throat in exchange for a moan.
"Ohh, g-good boy. What a, ugh, good fucking boy." And for someone who acts like a dog, this man goddamn purrs instead.
It's not fair. It's not fucking fair that you're losing your own composure because Keigo is just too good for his own good. So you retaliate and set the setting to its highest vibration.
"M-mommy, oh, mhm---" Keigo gasps and presses his tongue and lips against your cunt. He breathes heavily through his nose as his body jolts in a rhythmic manner.
He squeals against you and you're too lost in the feeling to be pissed that he came without your permission.
And when you ride out your own orgasm, you pull him away from your throbbing cunt. Staring him down while Keigo licks his lips, the pink appendage trying to reach for his own cheeks and chin like a slobbering dog. He is so out of it he wouldn't even see it coming.
You catch your breath.
"I think, it's time for your reward." You announce and Keigo looks up at you in a panic.
"Wait, no, mommy I-I don't, don't deserve it." Of course he doesn't. He already came. But you know why he vehemently insists on saying he doesn't deserve a reward. You stand up from your seat and motion him the couch.
"No, no, I insist. Sit down, my sweets." And Keigo has no choice but shakily nod along and move to your liking. The black of his maid skirt already stained.
He tries to close his legs and although you may be weaker in strength, your nails dig deep enough to his thighs that he opens up anyway.
You run your tongue against his messy cock. Maintaining eye contact with his teary ones. You feel his legs shake.
"P-please, too much..." Keigo whines painfully. You lean back and grab the remote.
"Just medium then. You can tap out anytime." You compromise before getting back at punishing him.
"O-oh, I---I wouldn't, wouldn't want to." He sighs.
You didn't fully anticipate for you two to go off script but you'll let it pass for now. You're not too concerned about the sudden change of position, never worried about how you're now kneeling on the floor while your Keigo sits on the throne while manspreading.
There's no worry of him getting ideas about overpowering you, not when he can't see the view of being above you.
Considering that his golden eyes are too busy rolling at the back of his skull.
"Fuuuck, mommy, too much! Can't, I can't anymore!" Keigo whines when you deepthroat him, you squeeze his balls hard to remind him that indeed he can definitely give more.
"Mhm, sen---ah, cumming, fuck, c-cumming mommy!" You flinched from how hard Keigo smacks his hands against the couch, gripping them like the furniture is his only anchor in this world. That if he lets go, he might float away to the afterlife.
You try to relax your jaw, around his dick and angling yourself so his spunk doesn't shoot at the back of your throat but rather smoothly goes down as you swallow.
"O-ohhh," Keigo whines breathlessly when you continue to swallow whatever might come out before finally slowing to a halt. You pull away from his dick, finally giving it a break. As well as his prostrate when you turned off the vibrator. You take a deep breath before looking up at his pretty fucked out face.
"Such a good boy." You coo him a praise but he looks distraught and his own shortcomings.
"B-but I---" You interrupt him, leaning upwards to hold his face and ground him.
"No, no, I was being unfair. It happens." You ease him from his worries.
"I came without you telling me." He pouts as you stand up and lean further towards his sweaty face.
"That vibrator did a number on you, I wasn't being nice at all." You reiterate, kissing his forehead then his nose.
"You are my good boy and you did amazing." You rub your noses together and you relish how he beams in pride. He pulls you to sit on his lap, you happily oblige.
You rest your head against his neck, rubbing his bicep with your arm while Keigo holds you tight like his personal teddy bear.
"Thank you for washing up the dishes." You sigh out once you feel that he's finally come down from the height of his emotions.
"Thanks for making dinner, mommy." He replies, humourously using your title. You snort in amusement.
"Right, let's take a bath?" You prompt and you feel him nod in agreement.
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91 notes · View notes
canmom · 1 month
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NieR Orchestra Concert 12024 [the end of data] (London, 15/2/2024)
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NieR concert was incredible just as expected. Honestly, from the moment I got there - the cosplayers, the general atmosphere, it was just a good place to be surrounded by NieR nerds lmao. So many people happy to chat with the stranger next to them, kind of a con vibe.
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But of course we were there for the music! And it was fuckin amazing. The emi evans/j'nique nicole duets😭These were special orchestral arrangements specifically for this concert, and the way the sound of the orchestra fills the space, how you can see a phrase physically ripple across the orchestra... I don't get to go to a lot of concerts but I really should try to go more often, because it's something else to hear orchestral music.
below: further comments on the concert, lots of cosplay photos.
The multimedia elements also worked really well - every piece was accompanied with backing videos using either demosceney abstract visuals or images from the games, along with text that told a short story over the course of the concert, with some segments voice acted by the English voices of 2B and 9S (Kira Buckland and Kyle McCarley, who have previously made their own performances of the original Japan-only concert readings). I won't spoil the story in this post since there are still concerts to come, but it was... not that substantial I'll admit, but sweet, and a nice framing device to create a flow through the songs and various moments from the games.
Hearing J'nique Nicole's voice live though, that was incredible. Emi Evans was there just as last time, and just as amazing as always - but this time we had both of them on stage together, and it was absolutely sublime. We all went wild. They performed duets in several songs, with the standouts naturally being A Beautiful Song, Ashes of Dreams, and of course Weight of the World. I think we all thought that was the end because we gave it a standing ovation but then Emi came back out to perform Kainé. After that we got into the groove of standing up and stood up again like three more times lol.
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Yoko Taro and Yosuke Saito showed up at the end and made a bunch of rapidfire jokes in Japanese that the translator couldn't keep up with, bless her. But we got to give them like the fourth standing ovation of the night, and made a lot of noise when Yoko Taro suggested it would persuade the president of Squeenix to fund a sequel. I'm sure they appreciated it lmao. I think it must be so weird for Yoko Taro to go from someone with a career of niche, unsuccessful games to being internationally renowned to the point that a massive auditorium full of people in multiple countries will go absolutely nuts just to hear him speak a language we mostly don't speak.
Good mix of people who were at a NieR concert for the first time and people who'd been to the last one. There was a guy near me who had apparently been to the Berlin concert just a few days before, and snagged a ticket for this one literally yesterday just to get it again with better acoustics. I respect it lol. Everyone I spoke to was remarkably friendly - last time I went to one of these things I felt really nervous about approaching anyone but it seems I've gotten better about that kind of thing in the last few years. Anyway, people had come from all over - I chatted with a pair of Americans from Boston all the way down the merch line.
Here are some pictures, mostly of cosplayers. I am still getting used to shooting with the DSLR my friend gave me, so not all of these came out perfectly steady and some of them the exposure wasn't right,, but there are some nice ones in here...
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bokeeeeehhhhhhhhh... I spoke a bit to the owner of this 9S doll. Her mum was there too, and it turns out she's a haberdasher who makes cosplays for her daughters and has now done over 70. That's a legendary mum right there.
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The 9S cosplayer here gave me his instagram. he's a pro photographer so I feel a little embarassed at the quality of the photos I took of him ^^'
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I got some merch too, since I understand it's the main way events like this support themselves.
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That Kainé thing isn't a print, it's a vinyl record with a few arrangements of Kainé. Though I was totally prepared to buy it as a print because it's a lovely drawing. I don't actually own a record player, but one day I'll surely listen to it ^^'
I was too fatigued to make a cosplay this time, but I'm sure there will be another concert and next time, for sure, I will go as Devola or Popola. Unless Yoko Taro comes up with another redhead character in the meantime lmao.
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elvisabutler · 1 year
Note
can I request a consider! or a blurb or hc or full on fic of austin looking after p!a during a sub drop đŸ„ș
satisfied and empty inside
summary: austin swears that he'll never let you have a sub drop after hearing your horror stories. he fails this one time. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t? this is tricky because sexual things are described but they don't really have sex. so i suppose high t? pairing: austin butler x priscilla actress reader ( little dove verse ) word count: 2441 warnings: the normal warnings apply for this verse. daddy kink. dom/sub dynamics. choking. brief mentions of past relationships that were not at all pleasant. sub drop. anxiety. negative self talk. author’s note: consider this faintly canon for the main verse? i always make the argument that austin never really ever lets dove experience sub drop but maybe that's only for when it's caused by papi. time frame is post met and cannes but pre press tour. you know that little tiny bit of time between them. beyond that, christ anon i adored this prompt and adored you for giving it to me. i truly hope you enjoy and deeply apologize for the wait. also welcome to my first time in forever and an age since i've written a sub drop.
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The first thing you notice, the first thing that you notice when your body slowly drags itself into the land of being awake is that you're cold. There's no reason you should be cold, it's a practically balmy 73 degrees outside and Austin wasn't one to keep the house you two now owned together cold. That would always take some getting used to. The fact that you and Austin after every single ounce of bullshit that you and him put in your way have come out on the other end of things together. Sure, there's still so much you both have to work on with your own therapists and your couple therapist but here you are with your boyfriend, your dom, your- Austin.
Except, you're not here with him in the moment, are you? He's- he should be here in the bed but he's not, he's- where is he? Did he leave you? Were you that bad last night? You had- the scene was fine you thought, everything about last night was fine- almost perfect even but you're waking up alone in bed and Austin- Daddy hasn't been there for long enough for his side of the bed to get cold.
Maybe- no, Austin promised. Austin had said the two of you were fine, that things were going to get- going to be better. It wasn't perhaps the healthiest thing that you two had immediately gone back to being wrapped up in each other, you deciding to move at least temporarily to LA even while keeping your apartment in New York. It was just that being apart from one another after everything, after you had called his phone in the hotel shaking and so needy that you'd have thought his touch was the only thing that could cure you. That was the thing though, Austin knows that you- Austin knows more than anything at least for right now, you need to feel him touching you more often than not. You might not have been touch starved with other people, but you had missed his so much that it was like a missing limb. You had missed him like a missing limb in those hours you weren't busy and he wasn't talking to you because of course, just like Elvis and Priscilla somehow you break up and can't even do a clean break.
It's different now, it's supposed to be different now because you're here and he's here and you're supposed to work things out, make things better between the two of you so that you can build a truly solid relationship. The relationship is supposed to be between you and Austin, not you as Priscilla and him as Elvis or between Priscilla and Elvis. Having a solid relationship means not leaving the person alone when you said you wouldn't without a note or a little text or a voice memo. Austin would leave a message somehow someway but here you are with an empty bed and no note. You roll over, shivering despite your best efforts of curling into the covers as if they'll protect you from the thoughts that are starting to swirl around in your mind like a witch's brew in a pot. There's no missed calls, no missed messages, nothing missed on your phone or on the nightstand near it.
There is just you and a bed with half of it cold. There is just you and no Austin. There is just you and your mind. There is just you and the ghosts of people who are dead or still living but have themselves burrowed into your very psyche.
The crash hits you like the sudden drop of an elevator and you kept help the way a quiet whimper leaves your lips at it. You can feel where Austin's hand was around your neck, clenching and flexing and whispering such filth into your ear. "My good girl, taking my cock so well even when she can't breathe. Think I could leave a mark? Think the paparazzi would ask you what you did to earn that?" You can feel the sting of where his hands had slapped your ass, where he had palmed your ass and squeezed. You can feel the burning trail of his kisses only to be replaced by the cool air against your skin right now. None of those things are happening right now, the person you did them with isn't here right now. You're alone.
You're going to be alone forever aren't you? He's going to break things off with you like you did with him. This is him breaking things off with you like you did to him. Leaving him without a word until you decided to talk. You- He doesn't love you, he loves the you he met on set. He loves you as Priscilla not you and you and only you. He's probably meeting up with Kaia or some other new girl. He won't come back until you've left the bedroom. Or maybe he just wants you to fuck- to let out his dominant side- his daddy side so that whatever girl he's dating doesn't have to take it because they don't want to. Maybe him and Kaia never had broken up. It feels as if your chest has caved in on itself your lungs struggling to bring air into your body as you start to cry. He promised- He said he loved you, why isn't he here with you. Why are you alone again? Why isn't your collar on- nevermind that Austin had taken it off the night before because you had wanted to just feel his bare hand against your neck.
The tears start to fall before you realize what's happening as you curl even tighter into the blankets. The ceiling fan that's circling above you makes the subtle creaking noise it always does and it feels like the loudest thing in the room. A reminder that as much as you want to try with Austin again he has to want to try with you, has to want to be with you. Time passes as you cry, you think, the numbers on the clock by the bed not really registering until you hear your bedroom door open and a cheerful oh you're up before you swear you hear a curse.
It just makes you cry harder and has you sitting up and curling your knees to your chest as best you can as you try and wipe your tears because it hurts and you feel everything right now and you can't shut off your brain and and and-
"Dove?" Austin's voice feels like it's in a tunnel, like he's in the far away place you're certain he's in. After all, his side of the bed was cold when you woke up without him. You register his side of the bed sinking with his weight and his warm hand on your shoulder. Austin always does feel like your own personal furnace. You wonder if he felt that way for the other girls he's been with. "Oh my- my little dove."
Austin is there. Austin is touching you. Austin- Daddy is there. Breathing comes back in a rush and you take one, two, three shaky breaths before you feel Austin's arms wrap around you and you choke out a single word. "Where?"
He's confused for a moment before he realizes that you're asking him where he was. Asking him where he had run off to and left you alone. He doesn't know what time you woke up only that he came into the bedroom ready to wake you up with a kiss and instead found you crying looking as small as you could in the bed. You tense in his arms, still unsure that he's actually there or that you deserve having him around you but you don't shake his arms off, don't force him to stop touching you. "I- I thought I told you, little dove. I had a bunch of early interviews, didn't want to wake you up. I was going to take you out to brunch or lunch when I got done. You- I'm here."
"But you weren't." You hate how it sounds coming out of your mouth, all pectualance and sadness and you sound so much younger than you are when you say it. "You left me alone and it's- it's cold, Austin."
His arms tighten around you as he starts to stroke your back slowly, his lips kissing the crown of your head. "I know- and Daddy's sorry about that, dove. So so sorry about that. I should have written a note for you or sent you a text. I haven't even left the house. I've been in the office." He pauses, exhaling a little shakily. "I'm warm, Y/N, my perfect little dove, my girl- no my woman who puts up with me being an idiot and who's had my heart since our first hello."
Your fingers move to the dove necklace on his neck, it's almost identical to yours, but just subtly different enough that it's uniquely his. You press your own initials into your thumb as you fiddle with it and Austin does the same thing with your necklace around your neck. Neither of you speak for a moment, your tears turning into a sea of shivers before you finally muster up the ability to speak. "I thought- I thought you changed your mind."
About us is what goes unsaid. Because you've been there before, this isn't- he isn't Papi but it feels like it in the moment. Feels as if you're abandoned all over again. Feels as if you're tossed in the trash because you're not useful anymore, you're not the one for him any more and it crushes you. Austin lets out a huff of air and shakes his head.
"I didn't change my mind when you left me in Australia, if I didn't then, I don't think I ever really will." The way he moves to tilt your head up, grabbing your chin lightly and looks at you betrays the fact that he knows you're going to try and argue with him. "Ignoring the girls, dove. Just like I ignore the dates you went on."
A hint of a smile crosses your lips before you frown again, still shivering and trying to burrow into his arms, almost as if you want to become one with him. "Promise? I know I'm being stupid- and you know I'm not-"
"Dove- Y/N- you're not stupid. And I know you're usually so strong and tough and I love that about you but I left you alone and you- you dropped without me here. Because I wasn't here to see what was happening." He pulls you in for a soft kiss. "I promise. You're stuck with me until you get tired of me, because I'm not getting tired of you any time soon."
You still feel drained, still feel like the world has closed in on itself but there's a glimmer of sunshine there, a glimmer of hope your mind is latching onto in an attempt to pull you up from the depths that only brightens as you look at Austin and feel and smell Austin all around you. "Can we take a bath?" You ask softly, knowing the heat of it will help you calm down, will help bring you back up quicker.
Austin hums before nodding. "Can I get you to eat a snack first? I'll order in some food, we'll run a bath and we can just-"
"Yes." You answer, cutting him off before he can finish and looking a little alarmed when you do. "Yeah, I'd- I'll eat something and I don't- I just don't want to be alone. I need you, Au-Daddy."
Austin doesn't say a word for a moment before looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars. It's a little mind-boggling to see that look even after everything and your lips finally actually do fully form a smile so touched that you can't do anything but. When he finally speaks nuzzling your hair. "I always give you what you ask for and need, Dove." He moves to get off the bed despite your groan and whimper of protest at the loss of his body heat and his body in general. Once he stands up on the side of the bed he pulls you over and up next to him. "Come on, quick snack and then bath."
It doesn't take you a second to burrow yourself back under his arm as he pulls you close to his chest. In fact, in a fit of what he likes to pretend is genius he maneuvers you to be in front of him and allows himself to just walk with you holding onto him in the front. It's silly and a bit uncomfortable but it works well enough and makes you happy enough that he deals with it. You eat a bagel because it's easiest thing to scarf down in the kitchen before you and him make that same walk back to the bedroom and into the bathroom.
He takes his time as the water runs to take off your nightgown, placing soft kisses at every bit of exposed skin as he reveals them. You're still shivering a bit but sometimes it's from your own emotions while other times it's from the kisses his lips give you. Climbing into the tub after he manages to get in there is a bit of an adventure with how fuzzy your brain feels but you manage, Austin's arm snaking around your waist and pulling you up against his chest. "Starting to feel better?" He asks, his lips caressing your ear in a gesture you can't help but enjoy.
"A little." A simple answer but it's the only one your brain can wrap itself around. You pause and realize that you've stopped shivering. "I'm warm."
Austin's lips curl into a smile that you can feel against your skin. "I don't know, I think you're pretty hot."
That glimmer of hope, that thing your brain started to cling to explodes like a supernova, filling your brain with just enough happiness to make you actually laugh. It's not fixed- you know from experience pulling you out of this state takes a bit longer but it's a start.
His smile widens and he nips at the back of your neck. "There's my little Dove. Love you."
You hum a little happily and drowsily as you lean back and settle yourself against him as he slowly starts to bathe the both of you. "Love you too, Daddy."
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flwrshwr-chenji · 5 months
Text
Sunsetz -CYJ-
Choi Yeonjun ~yeonjunxfem!reader
Genre: Fluff, non-idol AU
Word Counr: 2k
Labels: Established relationship, anniversary, dramatic yeonjun, brief talk of kids, proposal, petnames (baby, pretty, pretty girl), sappy yeonjun, reader cries. ~let me know if I should add anything else~
AN: hey guys! So I've finally decided to venture out of only writing NCT. I hope you guys like it! Please lmk your thoughts and feedback! feel free to message me! I'm open to requests! I'm gonna try to post more often. Writer's block is lowkey kicking my ass so bear with me. But yea hope you guys like my first non-nct fic. Also I plan on making a masterlist soon, so it'll be easier to navigate my account. I am also currently working on another Yeonjun fic, and maybe a RIIZE fic. So hopefully I can get those out soon.
Fic under cut đŸ«¶đŸŸ
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Walking hand in hand with your boyfriend, you couldn’t be happier. A few weeks prior, Yeonjun had suggested a trip to the countryside for your upcoming 4th anniversary. Feeling a need for some quiet, you quickly said yes to the much-needed vacation. And now here you are on the day of your anniversary, enjoying the early autumn sunlight, locked hands swinging with the breeze. The two of you had spent the whole day exploring the quiet little town. You’d been shopping, gone to a few diners and cafes whenever you got a little hungry, and even drove around for a bit until Yeonjun spotted a small pasture. He quickly suggested the two of you take a walk before you lost too much sunlight, which was where you were now. The car parked a bit a ways back, seeing as you’d been walking for about 10 minutes now, just enjoying each other's presence.
“It’s so pretty out here.” You said softly, almost instantly regretting it as you were met with a cheesy response from the man beside you. “You’re prettier.” He said, the widest grin on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing just how proud he was at the corny line. “You’re so lame Jun. You know that?” You said, stopping to look at your smiling boyfriend with an equally wide smile. “Yeah, but you love it. You love meee.” He said, bringing his hands up to cup his face and fluttering his eyelashes at you. Pretending to gag, you pulled a disgusted look at him. “Ew no I don’t. I don’t even know you.” You fanned him off, knowing he was about to start into his dramatics.
An exaggerated gasp met your ears as Yeonjun dropped to his knees clutching his chest. “I think- I think I’m dying
 I’ve never felt heartbreak like this
 Y/N I think these are my final moments.” He said between gasps, sprawling out on the ground. You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched him. He began to roll around, still clutching his chest as he groaned in false pain. Your laughs grew louder the longer you watched him. “Tell my mom I love her
 I see the light
 I’m going towards the light.” He grunted, sticking to his bit. You decided to play along, dropping to your knees beside him, and taking his hand. “Yeonjun no! Don’t leave me baby please.” You said between giggles “I can’t hold on much longer
 Y/N
 Baby? Baby you have to save me. Don’t let me go. You have to- Baby you have to kiss me, or you’ll lose me forever.” He panted, his dramatic gasps getting louder and quicker. You couldn’t help but throw your head back in a cackle at his request. “Baby this isn’t funny! I’m dying! You have to save me.” He whined. “Yeonjun you’re ridiculous.” You responded. “I’m serious. I’ll die if you don’t kiss me and tell me how much you love me!” You laughed loudly once again. Yeonjun couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face, your laugh was his favorite sound in the world. “Fine fine. I’ll save you.” You said, grinning at him.
He closed his eyes and puckered his lips, missing the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned down to kiss him. He was fully expecting to feel his lips on yours, his eyes shooting open when he felt your lips on his forehead. “No, no, no! You have to kiss me here.” He brought his hand up, tapping his lips before closing his eyes again. “Here?” You teased, kissing his cheek. “No! Here.” He puckered his lips again, making a kissy noise, eyes still closed. “Oh! I see. Here.” You placed a kiss on his other cheek. He groaned. “No! On my lips baby.” He tapped his lips once more. “Ah, okay okay. I got it. You said here.” You giggled, before kissing the tip of his nose. “No, no. My lips. Like this.” He said, quickly sitting up and grabbing your face, pulling you in for a soft, but passionate kiss before you could respond. A surprised squeak left you before you inevitably melted into his touch. You lifted your hands, placing one on his chest and the other cupping his cheek. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you into his lap before pulling away. He rested his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.
“I’ve never felt more alive.” He grinned. “You’re so dramatic Jun. You know that?” You said softly. He hummed in acknowledgment, hugging you closer. “But you love it. You love me
” He repeated his earlier statement. This time you nodded, leaning back a bit and wrapping your arms over his shoulders. “I do. I love you more than you know.” You said, pecking his lips gently. “And I love you most pretty.” He responded. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, before deciding to stand up and walk back to the car. Yeonjun quickly grabbed your hand, locking your fingers as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “We should have a picnic out here. We can go back to the cabin and pack a basket really quickly.” You suggested. “Yea? We can do whatever you want pretty girl.” He said, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You grinned, leaning into his side as you walked back to the car.
Just as promised, a basket was quickly packed, along with a blanket, and before you knew it you were back at the pasture with everything laid out neatly in the grass. Yeonjun had his head in your lap, munching on one of the sandwiches you’d made, while you carded your fingers through his soft hair, sipping a glass of wine. “This is the perfect anniversary baby.” You said softly. “I agree. I'm glad you’re enjoying yourself pretty.” Yeonjun replied, peering up at you. “I like this
 Spending time with you like this. It’s peaceful.” Yeonjun said, sitting up after a moment of silence. “It’s perfect. I could get used to this.” You smiled, watching the sunset in front of you. “We could have this you know
 Buy a house out here. Even if it’s just a vacation home.” You leaned against your boyfriend, liking that idea. “You know if we have kids one day
 we could bring them out here. It’d be nice watching a mini us run around.” You hummed in approval as he continued. “I like the sound of that.” You said softly. “You should take some pictures pretty,” Yeonjun said, leaning forward, pulling a camera out of the picnic basket, he knew how much you liked photography.
You grinned, jumping to your feet, and taking the camera. Yeonjun stood up after you, watching as you walked a bit farther, snapping pictures of the setting sun and your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, Yeonjun reached into the basket again, pulling out a small box, which he’d hidden in there while you went to get a blanket for the picnic. He didn’t know why he was getting nervous all of a sudden. You’d talked about having forever together, starting a family, and things like that, but something about making it official had butterflies erupting in his stomach. He let you have a few minutes, watching you take pictures, hiding the box behind his back whenever you turned to snap pictures of him. Using his free hand, he pulled out his phone, snapping pictures of you, watching you in your element. After snapping a few dozen photos, he dropped his phone down onto the blanket and walked up behind you. He shoved the ring box in his pocket before wrapping his arms around your waist. “Happy anniversary pretty girl.” He whispered in your ear. You turned your head to him with the widest grin on your face. “Happy anniversary baby.” You said back, turning to face him, craning your neck to kiss him. He leaned down to meet your lips, smiling as he tightened his grip around you. The kiss was short-lived before you turned in his arms again, raising the camera to take pictures of the two of you together.
After letting you snap a few pictures Yeonjun stepped back, grabbing your hand. “Come back to the blanket. I have something for you.” He said, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he guided you back to your blanket and sat with you. “What’d you get?” You asked, wondering what was waiting for you. “Close your eyes.” He said, waiting for you to follow his instructions. You did so quickly, giggling in excitement. He pulled the small box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. “Okay. Open your eyes.” Doing as told, you study his face, noting the bit of nervousness in his eyes. You glanced down at his hands and let out a loud gasp. “Yeonjun
” You said softly. “I love you so much, more than anything and as you know, we’ve been together for four whole years. Which is crazy. For the last four years, I’ve given you my whole heart. The purest form of love and adoration. You’ve been by my side through thick and thin, and I want to thank you for that. I want you to know, that I plan on spending the rest of my life making myself the best man I can possibly be for you if you’ll have me. I want to keep you as happy as possible. I want to thank you for being my best friend, and my soulmate. You’ve kept me sane these last four years as we navigate life together. I want to give you the world, but for now, I have this beautiful diamond ring, for an even more beautiful girl. So as we continue to make our way through life, I hope you’ll stay by my side as we do. So until I can figure out a way to give you the world, will you take this ring, and my promise to put nothing but a smile on your face for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me pretty girl” He said, his gentle words like a lullaby to your ears, as tears streamed down your cheeks. He reached a hand up, wiping your tears and placing gentle kisses on your cheeks where your tears fell.
“You said you’d put nothing but a smile on my face, and here you are making me cry.” You giggled through a sniffle. “Yes of course I’ll marry you. I love you so much Jun.” You wiped your eyes once more, smiling until your cheeks hurt as you watched your now fiancĂ© slide the ring onto your finger. Once the ring was in place, you grabbed Yeonjun’s face, practically smushing him as you kissed him with as much love as you could muster. He pulled you into a tight hug, returning your kiss with just as much love, grinning against your lips. “I love you so so much pretty. Thank you for making me the happiest man on earth.” He said after separating from your lips. He pulled you to your fit, spinning you around as you laughed, holding him tightly. Once he placed you back onto the ground the excitement settled in. He began running around, cheering at the top of his lungs. “We’re getting married!!” He yelled, jumping up and clicking his heels together. You laughed as you watched with admiration. “You’re such an idiot.” You laughed. “I may be an idiot, but I’m an idiot who convinced you to marry me!” He cheered again. You half expected him to click his heels again, letting out a ‘yippee’ as he did so. Instead, he tackled you into a tight hug, tumbling into the grass with you in his arms. “I can’t wait ’til I can call you my wife.” He grinned. “And I can’t wait to call you my husband, idiot.” You smiled. The two of you lay in the grass together, limbs tangled together, as you basked in the light of the sunset. You couldn’t wait for the endless sunsets you’d get to spend together.
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fuxling · 10 months
Note
pspsps hi fux do u have any btd/tpof ocs (for no reason in partic tacular)
Oh! Yes I do!
I tend to become self conscious about my own ocs, and because of this I don't share a lot about them due to my...anxiety? LMAO /lh
I have three, but for now I'm just going to share two (I don't really have art of the third yet so that'll wait) I have an OC and I have a Sona/"Self Insert"!
I've posted about my OC, Cricket, before. She also gets called Pigeon/Pidge. Her ref is outdated but the other illustrations are pretty accurate still.
Pidge is a 27, Cis, & Bisexual. She's 5'0, and weighs 110lbs. She grew up in Seattle to a deadbeat dad and an overbearing mother. Eventually in her teen years, her parents split and she moved to San Francisco with her father, who inflicted a lot of bad shit upon her before she packed up and moved out on her own. She lived alone perusing modeling & photography before she was Got after a party in the city.
Waking up, she found herself in an auction room. Derek buys her, takes her to the hunt. I have kind of a few 'versions' of how the hunt goes for her, some ending in possession or sacrifice, or just death, but the main one is she stabs Derek but doesn't have the guts to kill him, so he takes her home and she basically becomes his lap dog via repeated abuse and torture.
I'm not sure what parts of her 'story' I should expound on and what parts I should sum up quickly, haha.
Personality wise, she's very dry, doesn't smile much. She got a lot of shit for being an ice queen growing up, and tends to come across apathetic, even when she isn't. Very sarcastic and can seem catty, but usually is trying to cover her own ass. She has a huge soft spot for other girls, especially fem folks who are in trouble, and will often put herself in danger to help others who are vulnerable/in danger.
She is afraid of her own capacity for attachment, which is why she refuses to let herself attach to anyone. This provided a lack of support in community around her, and made her a better target for kidnapping, since no one would notice her gone or take much action if they did.
In reality, she is desperate for connections and keeps herself from interacting intimately with anyone due to her fear of becoming over attached. This really blossoms later as hee Stockholm Syndrome with Derek kind of...Happens. Haha
Eventually Derek rubs off on her and she gets into some trouble, and starts killing at the hunts that Derek drags her to. You can also imagine she gets used a lot by the whole hunt lmao
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Here's some pictures of her! ^ I love her very much, she is small and full of rage LMAO
Then we have Kade/Juju. This is my "Self Insert". I haven't posted about him much yet, I have been redoing his reference 100 times it feels like, and this is what I have at the moment.
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Kade is 28, He/Him trans masc, and mlm. He's an American Red Fox, and grew up on the dense forests of the west coast. His family is estranged, and he ran off to the cities after he was of age to go to school for Botany.
His schooling and thirst for Travel causes him to move North, where while he's attending school he runs into a Specific German at the bar.
He's a quiet dude, kinda nervous, and has very big "Homeschooled by a forest ranger" energy. Loves to infodump about animals, bugs, plants, you name it. Pretty decent survival skills, which also lends to him being a bit of a slippery captive.
I eventually want to put him in a situation with both Lawrence and Mason also, but I haven't been able to sit down and Think in a hot second. If he ends up in Strade's house, he either gets killed for attacking Ren or also gets pet-ified. In that instance, I really like the visual of Strade just having this duo of Fox pets that are constantly horny but also kind of at each others necks a lot (Male foxes have no chill around other male foxes)
I'm starting to get lost in the sauce here so I'll leave it there and if anyone wants to know more, I'd love to answer whatever curiosities may plague you!
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dadrielle · 11 months
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Ok I've talked with enough people individually about this I should just make a post, SO: here is why I think Imogen Temult has ADHD*
Emotional dysregulation. When she tends to express her emotions instead of tamping them down, they are very often strong bursts, sometimes super anxious or upset, sometimes angry and vicious. This is often also at odds with her actions, which are much more measured (see for instance her saying of her dad she should "Drag him over to me, and open up his mind without even his-" versus how she actually acted with him). She also has difficulty pulling away from the emotion.
She tends to need to talk her thoughts out to fully understand where she's at and what she thinks. The best illustration of this is her conversation with Laudna in episode 49, where she comes to her decision as to how she feels about what her mother is showing her via talking her way through it.
Relatedly, her trains of thought that will completely flip midway through, the first instance of course being the very first episode, when she flips from deadpanning about Laudna thinking the kids could get them into the conservatory to actually considering it practically midword. She and Laudna will get into the weeds together going a little bit off the wall in their WHAT IF-ing and interrupting each other without needing to complete the full thoughts.
She often will get trapped in indecision and then make an impulse decision when time constraints demand it. ("WE'RE FUCKING.")
She is often a bit checked out of conversations until called upon, which I think could be both a symptom of the headaches she gets from the press of thoughts, and also possibly a symptom of ADHD.
She's kinda shit at lying when she's in a situation as genuinely herself and trying to spare someone's feelings or comfort them (pretending she and Laudna were still fighting for FCG, "Potatoes are my favorite food," every "I'm fine" ever uttered), but she's scary good at lying when it's more of a performance. Reads to me like it could be a skill gained through learning to mask.
We know she was bullied a bit as child by the Tildamere kids, which was pre-powers. While of course there are many many reasons kids might be bullied, it is worth noting kids with ADHD are often the target of bullying or may self-isolate.
Anxiety tends to be comorbid with ADHD, and it's very much a chicken-or-the-egg kind of situation. Imogen is obviously anxiety bitch supreme.
She didn't leave Gelvaan until Laudna came along. We know she was feeling suicidal at that point. Now, obviously there are a lot of reasons someone would stay in a place they hate and that hates them, but it seems plausible (and very familiar) to me that time blindness and executive dysfunction could play a part in that. Leaving without the kick of "oh we have to go right now" might have been one of those things that required too much plan/conceptualizing the future to seem like an option. Something she didn't realize she could just do.
Dogshit perception. lol. lmao.
*besides just that I'm projecting hard, also she and Laudna are AuDHD 4 AuDHD thank u for coming to my ted talk
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bettsfic · 8 months
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Hi Beth!!! How do you deal with the pain of someone giving you bad or negative criticism on your work? Sometimes it's hard for me to decipher between good criticisms that are painful to hear vs just bad criticisms of my work. It's something I have a hard time with
the answer, unfortunately, is time.
it may take weeks or months or even years to look back on painful feedback and either go, "yeah i could see where they were coming from, but they didn't have to be an asshole about it," or "oh wow, they were just flat-out wrong."
until then, you have to let yourself feel your feelings, and maybe set the work down, and maybe lose a little faith in it, and try not to internalize the voice of that person. (i have a story about this at the end of the post.)
the trick to not internalizing that critical voice is to assess the level of respect that person has for you and your work. if they respect the work and what they say is hurtful, the feedback is worth considering, even if you end up tossing it out. if they dismiss or invalidate the work, you just have to go, "wow, you're an idiot and an asshole," and move on, hoping that they'll never read your work again. if they don't respect you now, they never will. their disrespect and the misunderstanding that arises from it comes from a place of fear and self-doubt, and no matter how good their work is, they are still a long way behind you in their writing journey. getting better at writing means getting better at reading and vice versa. if they aren't a good reader then they will never meet their potential as a writer.
the lesson i keep coming back to, that i try to encourage writers to remember, that often feedback that is hurtful may be flat-out wrong, but if you're upset by it, if you can't brush it off, that means it poked at something you've not yet seen, something that may have nothing to do with their feedback at all. maybe they tell you there's too much passive voice in your prose, too many "was"s, and that hurts, but what they're really saying--what they maybe can't meaningfully articulate--is that they want more texture, more style. they just see a problem they've been trained to believe is a problem but don't understand why they think it's a problem, and they try to prescribe a solution. it's like going to a doctor when you have the flu and she gives you a box of tissues. like, sure, the tissues will help your stuffy nose, but you need antibiotics.
the solution to getting over the flu is not to repeatedly blow your nose, just as the solution to "too much passive voice" is not making your verbs active. go through and highlight the sentences you personally find weak and play around with them a bit, recast them, not necessarily with active voice in mind but with elevation.
in short, it's not the feedback you should be paying attention to, but your feelings toward it.
this, as usual, got super long, but below the cut i share some stories about receiving feedback and how i felt about it/what i did with it, along with a lot of analogies.
once, i had a professor who was so mean. i mean he ripped my work to shreds. his crit letters were pages long; he often prescribed solutions and he also spoke with brutal honesty. but i loved it. i knew he really believed in me. he spent hours on my pieces, read them multiple times over, and put so much thought and care into his feedback, even if it was sometimes harsh. i personally believe in tactful honesty, but i'm fine with brutal honesty if it comes from a place of real caring.
there was one story i wrote where i completely disagreed with a suggestion he made. i told myself i would toss that comment aside and take the feedback that felt better and more in line with what i wanted the story to be. but i really valued this professor's opinion, and i trusted him, so i copied the story to a new document (to preserve the draft i believed would be better), and implemented his suggestions in the way i would follow a recipe i've never tried before--believing the measurements and times to be correct and following them, even if they don't sound quite right. i'm just trying it out, and i can adjust it next time.
but it was a good recipe, and he was right. implementing his feedback made the story so much better.
there have been times i've received outright cruel feedback from people, straight-up insults, and they've made me laugh because i knew that it came from a place of admiration, in the same way you watch terrible movies because your favorite actor is in them, or get upset with an athlete because they made a mistake that cost your team the game. you're still going to queue up the next terrible movie in the actor's filmography. you're still going to go to the next game. but someone who disrespects your work would join you in the baseball stadium, complaining that it's not hockey.
the first time i ever workshopped something, i took the feedback i received and implemented all of it. i had this underlying assumption that everyone knew more than me about my own work. it destroyed the work in question. i had over-revised it to the point of unreadability. i truly believe it's possible to revise something too much, or revise in the wrong direction, and you don't know what that looks like until you implement bad feedback and suddenly have clarity about the decisions you've made.
when you articulate your creative choices to build polemics against bad feedback, you become more confident in those choices. the truth that no one tells you is that if you're in a group of 10 people and they all give you feedback, probably only 1 person's feedback will be useful to you, 2 if you are very lucky. the opinion of the other 8-9 exist only to make you say, "you're wrong and here's why." this requires no change to the work itself, but it does change your attitude toward it, and next time you encounter a choice that someone questioned or criticized, you'll be able to implement it more intentionally.
there is, of course, a difference between justification and defense. defense comes from that same place of fear and self-doubt i mentioned before. justification comes from a place of understanding and confidence. it may be frustrating to receive feedback that's wrong, but it doesn't usually hurt. you should be able to brush it off with a kind of "you really just didn't read very carefully" or "you just don't get what i'm trying to do, and you didn't take the time to try to understand." this is, at worst, annoying. being misunderstood is a natural side effect of creating something, and over time it gets easier.
but if it hurts, being inquisitive about that pain, seeking out why you're feeling it, will teach you something.
i've got one more story for you.
a few days ago i was working on my Barbie fic, as you do, and i needed the title of a fake novel. i tossed in a title for a novel i never wrote and probably never would. in my memory, i had written the idea down in a notebook in 2018 and thought, "that might make a cool story one day," and never looked at it again.
when i went to look for that idea i'd written, i found i had in fact written it. i had written 35,000 words of it. i started reading it and i couldn't remember it at all. i wondered if someone hacked into my drive. like always when i read my older work, i see my pitfalls more clearly, things i still do to some degree that i still instinctively grab onto in drafting but have gotten better at revising out, or in some cases making it work. and like always, i see merit in the work. i read certain lines and i go, "wow, i wrote that?"
in this case i saw evidence of a dedication to setting and description i no longer have, and remembered why it used to be important to me. i mentioned in a post last month that i had re-read a YA novel, 3 NBs of Julian Drew, that seemed to have defined a big portion of my aesthetic when i was 12. part of that aesthetic is what i now call magical objects: tiny things that hold big meanings that otherwise wouldn't be acknowledged in the narrative. and in the case of this 35k thing i'd been working on, it was about a hoarder with a terminal illness who asks a boy to help her go through her things so her estranged daughter won't have to deal with it when the mother is gone. it's from the perspective of the boy, who has an interesting relationship with material things, because a fire destroyed everything he owned. and the process is hard for both of them.
and i remembered why i stopped writing it: a good friend of mine, one of my trusted early readers, called it boring, with the implication that he found all my work boring over the past two years we'd been reading for each other.
it's one thing to receive bad feedback on a finished piece. it can stand on its own. but this story was still just an infant, and i trusted this friend with it. i trusted him to respect me and encourage me, but it turned out that the entire time, he hadn't thought very highly of my work at all.
i stopped speaking to him, not just for that but for many other reasons as well, and his feedback hurt me so badly that not only did i set this project down, i forced myself to forget it and never again return to the things he found boring about it, the careful attention to detail and the slow-moving plot.
he was right in that it was not yet doing the work i wanted it to do, and in fact at the time i didn't really understand what i was aiming for. i was only compelled by these characters and this story, and tried to follow their lives as closely as i could. i was writing far above my skill level, which feels a bit like using a screwdriver instead of a power drill. you can get the job done, but it'll take a lot longer and a lot more effort, and there are some tasks you can't really do at all.
that was 5 years ago. a couple days ago, i set down the Barbie fic for a minute and started playing with that 35k, knowing what i know now, and with the skill and patience to maybe do something with it that has clearer ambitions it might be capable of reaching. only 2k of it or so is useful; the rest can be thrown out. but that's enough. it's a foundation for a story that i think is worth existing, and which many, many people would find boring. but there will be a few people who see in it the same things i do, and i'm writing for them.
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themsource · 3 months
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Circus BSP AU
Soooo...had an idea that's been on my mind a while. Decided to share it because I know I haven't updated anything in a bit and I've been so busy with Secret Santas x_x
Anyways it's a long ramble from my ideas folder, not a real written piece, but I'm placing it below a cut ^^ This idea came to me while listening to Panic! At The Disco's cover of The Greatest Show a while back. I don't know if this has been done before but meh, just wanted to post my take on a circus au with the baddies
Rating: M
TWs: Mentions of torture, Kidnapping, Enslavement, Near Drowning
Nightmare and Dream own their own opposing circus rings. Dream recruits willing participants and their shows are always about love and positivity with graceful displays of athletics like ribbon dancing and aerial silk suspension, baton twirling and contortion, even godly fast speed painting with neon glowing soul magic to show an individual's ultimate dream even if they don’t know it themselves and store it in a personalized orb to take home as a memento for personalized viewing whenever you please. 
Nothing risky or seemingly life threatening/daredevil stunted. 
No, that’s Nightmare’s theme. 
In contrast he doesn’t recruit, he steals and binds individuals into contracts that can only be broken at his word or their untimely death should it occur. His ring has all the horrifying and thrilling shows that leave the audience anxious and on their toes, like sword swallowing/knife throwing/nail walking/fire breathing (Killer), Lions and Tigers - many dangerous animal performances (Horror), highwire/cannonball (Dust), and Motorcycle acts like the Wall of death and globe of terror (Cross). 
Nets and other safety precautions are ignored, this is the highlight and draw of Nightmare’s circus alongside the ability for one of your “nightmares” to be engraved on a stone tablet using soul magic so you never have to experience them again once the show is over.
Whereas Dream gives away positivity to spread through the worlds, Nightmare collects negativity in a personal vault for his own sustenance (the stone tablets) while still supplementing what he takes with the experiences his circus gives. 
This is the point of contention with the brothers. Dream doesn’t like how Nightmare still puts out negativity while also taking it away - it’s a selfish redundancy in his mind and perceived as unbalance, and Nightmare feels the same about how Dream puts out positivity with his circus but doesn’t take any away not only making his job more difficult to keep the flows even but causing him more suffering with how positive a world will be once Dream holds a performance.
The brother’s once owned a circus together but it broke apart with Nightmare’s downfall. 
Everyone was eager to see Dream perform but didn’t care for Nightmare’s escape acts and often boo’d and shamed him leaving the worlds they tried to equally balance always too filled with positivity. One day Nightmare almost died attempting to perform a dangerous escape stunt that he’d concocted to try and gain the audience’s approval, and just when it seemed to be working he ran out of magic (having not slept or ate well as he should’ve the night before when he’d been practicing) and nearly drowned. 
Dream was able to pull him free and save him but it took the last of their dead mother’s apples which proved too powerful and shattered Nightmare who was left horrified at what he’d become - a true reflection of ‘a demon’ as people called him, and led to him abandoning Dream to go his own way as the too much positivity started causing him pain and to go into frenzied breakdowns that he’d frequently black out through.
Since then Nightmare has not performed an escape act again and now solely plays ringleader. His innate trauma when it comes to performing is what led to him deciding to bring others into his fold to accomplish his goals, though he doesn’t let anyone know that. 
He contracted Killer, Dust, Horror, and then Cross in that order. Stealing them away from their own personal hells he found them in when noticing how fearless they were in the face of horrors far worse than what he had devised, and how equally terrifying their own appearances and auras were and would contribute to the overall effect he was going for. To get them to sign, he tortured them in never ending loops of nightmares, uncaring for how it affected them until they agreed. 
Killer was forced to experience going numb and filling with emotion on and off again repeatedly, the pain of switching so rapidly sending him into a spiral until he begged to be freed. 
Horror was forced to watch his fellow monsters dust and suffer the insanity inducing hunger wracking his frame as if fresh over and over as his brother kept mutating before his eyes. 
Dust had to watch his brother dust before his eyes repeatedly at his own hand no matter how much he fought against it, the pain of which was always too much each reset he experienced in his own world but in the nightmare without the time to breathe between each death and no goal of stopping the human in mind Dust cracked. 
Cross was sent into isolation, only it was so much worse as he didn’t have the ability to communicate with himself (even trying to think to himself and hold an imaginary conversation didn’t work) and could only experience the slow crawling of time as a sharp cutting sensation across his bones.
At first the gang all understandably despise Nightmare and what he forces them to do but he’s uncaring of it. However slowly the boys begin to find actual enjoyment in their work and bonding together as they come up with new routine ideas which they loathsomely try to share with Nightmare. 
Nightmare begins to feel impressed, even enthused though he doesn’t show it at their forwardness and makes recommendations for how to better execute their ideas while approving them. This causes the boys to begin feeling a sense of freedom and control they haven’t felt in years even before being stolen away but they still don’t soften to Nightmare even as Nightmare begins to soften just a bit to them at their willingness.
It isn’t until Nightmare and his trope encounter Dream and his that the boys end up feeling anything at all other than hate to the dark lord. 
They witness the exchange between Dream and Nightmare, the hostility Nightmare has when he and Dream argue over who has the right to be in this world first as Dream speaks in passive aggressive words about Nightmare’s awful decision making and unbalanced influence which Nightmare scoffs at before turning the argument petty as he remarks over Dream’s soft and impassioned performances. 
The second Dream comments about how his trope is a work of art while Nightmare’s is nothing more than ‘a glorified torture show’ the boy’s hackles raise - offended, not liking how Dream assumes they hate what they do (not anymore at least) which makes his trope’s performances more genuine and better since they’re willing. 
The boys witness the face Dream makes of regret at Nightmare’s bitter parting (dream’s words having surprisingly irked him) but don’t say a word. Instead they sneak in that night to watch Dream’s so called ‘better performances’ and are left feeling bored, and commenting on how it’s too bright, too sparkly and how they can do so much better. 
‘at least with us the crowd are actually on their feet.’ Killer huffs. ‘yeah, screaming too.’ Horror drawls. ‘I like the ribbons, not gonna lie.’ as Cross tosses back a handful of popcorn and earns amused scoffs from the others. Dust gives a rare smirk. ‘i have an idea.’ 
Nightmare is in his room, staring down at an old faded paper article that looks as if it might crumble into ash at the faintest breeze while he tries to ignore the pain in his chest from the positivity flooding the air. It’s a headline advertising his old act, the one that led to his transformation, when Killer walks in. Killer notices the article before Nightmare manages to fold it up and slip it into a breast pocket. It twinges something in him as he asks about it and Nightmare feeling a rare moment of openness blandly tells him of what happened. 
Killer is surprised and sudden understanding clicks but Nightmare dismisses it with ‘nothing more than childish hopes and pointless memories, what is it you want killer?’ 
Killer smiles.
It’s the first time Nightmare has seen that expression on Killer’s face and his socket widens. He feels something precariously close to a thrill race his spine as Killer hums, ‘me and the guys were talking
”
Dream and his friends are beginning to perform the big finale when suddenly the lights go off and Killer comes on over the intercom, ‘well as much as i love that hello kitty and fluffy rainbow shit like the next guy, how about we get a real party started?’ and the lights strobe back on in a kaleidoscope of flashing colors as Nightmare’s gang appear round the top of the stage. 
Killer flipping a jewel encrusted knife, Dust spinning an iron balancing rod as if it were a small plastic baton, Horror posed tall and looming with his one ear’d white lion and black tiger, and Cross on his sterling silver colored motorcycle revving the engine.
‘UH, DREAM? WHAT IS–” Before Blue can finish the boys are descending and taking the stage. Horror crowds them off with his animals as Cross races around the arena pulling shocked awes from the crowd and Killer blows fire setting the hanging ribbons up into a blaze of glory, Dust using his balancing rod to propel himself into the air and land on the lighting supports much to many surprised shouts of awe and worry. 
Dream can’t help but stare silently along with Blue and Ink as the show is stolen from them and negativity begins to seep in from the shocked and concerned onlookers who can’t bring themselves to look away, even clapping as Horror narrowly dodges being attacked by his own lion to allow the beast to burst through one of Ink’s paintings.
Nightmare watches in stunned surprise, amusement, and dare he even think it

Endearment.
When all is said and done the crowd goes home excited and raving about the unexpected twist and Dream is left fuming as he goes off about how childish and inappropriate that was. Nightmare shrugs him off as he glances over his shoulder at his smug trope and comments about how it was no decision of his own making. Sure he knew, but he didn’t tell Killer no, but Dream doesn’t need to know that. 
When they go home Killer and the boys all gain a new bit of respect for their ring leader, and even a bit of fondness at how he let them do as they pleased. It’s a slow crawl from there. Each of them taking the time to get to know Nightmare a little better after also being told by Killer about his past, even asking him to join them for dinner one day where Nightmare finds enjoyment watching and listening to them go back and forth like a bunch of rowdy roommates. 
Horror introduces him to the animals, and manages to calm the tiger enough to let Nightmare pet it. ‘her name’s mira.’
‘...You named her?’ 
‘yep, her and bosco.’ 
‘Is Bosco the lion?’ 
Horror looks oddly fond. ‘heh, no, he’s the gator. the lion is kimba, killer named him.’  
Dust invites him to help him as he works on repairing and calibrating his canon, handing him tools and reciting blueprints. ‘need better bolts, these are starting to strip.’ 
‘I never knew you were so
hands on, Dust.’ 
‘cross’ fault. i saw him babying that bike of his and got tired of having nothing to do.’ 
‘I see.’ 
There’s silence, an uncertainty. ‘...i want to repaint it. i don’t like the colors.’ 
Nightmare considers. ‘...Alright, what colors would you like?’ 
Dust’s smile reminds him of Killer’s. ‘heh.’
Cross takes him for a ride and shows him just how fast his bike can go. ‘SLOW DOWN YOU HEATHEN! THIS IS NOT A SHOW!’ 
‘c’mon nightmare! live a little!’ 
Nightmare shivers at feeling Cross’s hand guide his to his waist, his voice reminiscent of a whisper into his acoustics. ‘i won’t let you fall.’ 
Nightmare averts his gaze. ‘Falling is not the point!’ 
Killer
killer brings him outside and sets him on a blanket beneath the only tree for miles as he sharpens his blades, handing nightmare one after the other and telling him what kind they are like a teenager. ‘and this is a messer! it’s german for knife but looks more like a dagger.’ 
‘Interesting. You’ve taken care of these well.’ 
Killer smirks. ‘i take care of the things i care about.’ 
Nightmare raises a brow as he echos. ‘Care about.’ 
‘i don’t have to feel it to know that i care about it.’ The shrug he gives is indifferent, but the look is another matter entirely, one that brings a foreign heat to Nightmare’s cheeks. It feels like a flirtation, but it can’t be, he knows where he stands with him - with all of them. 
‘An even more interesting notion.’ he whispers.
It isn’t until he stumbles upon Horror pining Dust to a wall in a small forgotten hallway with Dust’s legs around Horror’s hips as they kiss that Nightmare realizes there’s a deeper bond between the members of his trope that he never noticed. One that they’re starting to willingly let him see as he spots Cross and Killer not long after training together with Cross pinned to the knife board as Killer sensually traces patterns across his bones with the tip of a finely oiled blade. It’s shocking how they managed to get away with this, hiding the fluctuations in their emotions from his notice.
The understanding spurs something in him that’s
genuine. 
On equal footing.
Killer notices his staring and holds eye contact just out of Cross’ line of sight as he kisses the other skeleton. The emotions are there now, raw and unfiltered. Desire, want
teasing. 
It’s an invitation.
Nightmare turns away and hides in his room thinking. He doesn’t know what he feels, not yet. But he does find himself wanting to, maybe, get a little closer to them. To know them, just as they’re obviously trying to do with him. 
He likes watching Horror train his pets, he enjoys seeing Cross flip over ramps and twirl his bike beneath him mid-leap, he finds amusement in Killer trying to paint the sky with words made of fire, and he can’t resist staring as Dust pretends multiple times as if he’s going to fall only to stand back upright confidently and with poise. He can’t help wondering if this is what friendship is, companionship. He thought he’d known that once with his brother but he’d been wrong. The feelings are too different.
So he
takes the risk. 
The dinners continue, the quality time, with him contributing by inviting them to let him read aloud of his books and going out to explore the worlds now before performing, but it all starts to weigh heavy on him and this manifests in him one day suggesting as Killer and Dust put forth a duet idea to suggest they use netting
in case of an accident.
The boys go silent, staring at him. 
Nightmare feels judged, and it’s made clear that he is when Killer says rather carelessly, ‘since when do you care about our safety?’ It’s then made clear to Nightmare that no matter how hard he tries, and no matter what they open up to him and he them, that he can’t be more or get closer. 
They will always see him as nothing more than their owner, their master. 
‘Forget I said anything.’
Nightmare is left torn, does he put everything on the line by offering to release their contracts in the hopes that they’ll stay when it’s far more likely they’ll run if given the chance? Or does he hold on, and get left standing alone to watch as an outsider on the bond between them just as he’s always been to the universe at large.
He tried to run before he could walk. This is the obstacle between them and the first step that he knows has to be taken, the rest of the moments they share are empty so long as the contracts exist. And not only that but the leagues he’ll have to go to make up for what he put them through when he first found them, if they dare to even give him the chance.
There’s a bitter, terrifying, decision to reach. 
Nightmare is in unfamiliar waters as he feels the sting of indecisiveness that he hasn’t felt since he was a child.
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