#i might clean this up digitally later if i feel like it but i kinda think the rough pencil hatching fits the vibe nicely tbh
Text
can I get a yeehaw?
#taffy art#undertale yellow#north star#starlo#i like the funny cowboy man a lot#traditional art#i might clean this up digitally later if i feel like it but i kinda think the rough pencil hatching fits the vibe nicely tbh
801 notes
·
View notes
Text
So, What Now?(Rehabili/Cohabi-Tation)
Chapter 4: In Which The Party Adventures(But Not Really)
FIC TAGS: Eventual Whirl/Cyclonus/Tailgate, Cyclonus/Tailgate, polyamory, slowburn romance, mutual pining, slice of life, fluff, comedy, eventual smut(planned for later chapters), sappy mushy lovey stuff, polycue, May eventually have illustrations
The Lost Light has a brand new universe to explore! But everyone's still tired from the old one! In the interim between wacky hijinks, a solution is offered to those bored to death by peacetime- Why form a club about it or renovate your hab suite of course!
Whirl doesn't know how he feels about all the pep. And even worse, he doesn't know how to feel about Cyclonus and Tailgate wanting him to join in on their clean slate.
Chapter 1 Here!
Chapter 2 Here!
Chapter 3 Here!
_________________________
Author's Notes: Ok so this one is a bit self indulgent bc i thought it'd be really funny if the gang played d&d. ALSO this is the big one that features a character that like. yknow. Y'KNOW. hes just there ok. hes just there, hes there. be cool ok.
ALSO! I might not write more about them playing this campaign, but TRUST that this game is ongoing throughout the whole story and beyond.
CHAPTER TAGS: comedy, not taking d&d seriously, bullying minimus, very sweet little end of chapter bit, rewind is whirl's friend i think, whirl spirals a bit at the beginning but its fine dw about it (other characters featured: Rung, Brainstorm, Minimus Ambus, Rewind)
That cycle felt so odd to Whirl. A nice afternoon of basketball, followed up by an evening chatting and reminiscing and planning for the next club they wanted to try out. The three of them laughed- though it was mostly Tailgate and Whirl doing the laughing- sipped Tailgate’s weak and bitter engex spritzers, and made conversation well into the end of the cycle.
It was easy to lose track of time, awash with weak engex and endorphins from a few clumsy games of baskets ball. It was only in the lull as the time grew later that it occurred to Whirl where he was. He adjusted his legs a bit in the chair he was sitting in, setting the half empty energon cube on the low table in the middle of the sitting area.
“Slag, getting kinda late isn’t it?” Whirl observed, starting to get up. He stretched awkwardly, twisting his waist side to side to occupy himself.
Tailgate perked up a bit, glancing over to a clock. “O-Oh-! It is isn’t it-” He agreed.
“Do you need an escort to your hab suite, Whirl?” Cyclonus asked wryly, suppressing a smirk. .
Whirl’s optic fizzed slightly. “You couldn’t find my suite if it was 2 doors down.” He snapped.
“I’ve been to your suite multiple times.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“The amount is in double digits.”
“No its not.”
“What do you mean ‘no it’s not’-” Cyclonus asked in disbelief. Tailgate snorted, breaking into stifled laughter.
“I meant what I said!” Whirl strolled to the door. The mech looked over his shoulder one last time at the couple. Cyclonus squinted at him incredulously. Whirl cocked his head at him, satisfied in his confusion of the other mech.
Tailgate waved at him a little bit. “See you later!”
Cyclonus hesitated a bit to join him in seeing Whirl off, turning his helm a bit to take another sip of his engex spritzer, making a bit of a face at the sub par taste as he raised a servo in goodbye.
“Bye!” Whirl nodded quietly, beginning to plod down the hallway.
The warmth in his core began to dwindle as he made the trek back homewards. Perhaps homewards was a bit of a generous term. Even with the stretch of time it had been since he had begun to call the lost light his ‘home’, his hab unit still didn’t feel like his. It didn’t matter how much rampant vandalism he committed on the walls, or how many useless pieces of scrap and junk were littered about every surface, it wasn’t his home. It felt more like a hotel. No… not a hotel. It felt like…
Whirl didn’t want to think about it.
He shook his helm, dipping down the last ramp onto his deck of the ship and turning towards his hallway. He counted the doors, 7 on one side, 6 on the other, until he found his own. He lifted a talon to his keypad, tapping in the combination with some effort. The stupid thing was fritzing, it had been for at least a stellar cycle, and it looked like a turbo fox had gotten at it, considering the claw marks.
The door slid open with a quiet whoosh. Whirl shuffled inside. He sat on the edge of his berth, swinging his pedes a little bit.
It didn’t take until Whirl was half asleep for him to receive a message from Tailgate this time.
TG: R’s R&R Club meets in 3 cycles, see you there?-Tailgate
Whirl turns the message around in his processor, letting it tuck in neatly with the other comms Tailgate had sent him before. They’d talked about it earlier in their hab unit. He considered, albeit briefly, as he slowly reclined on his slab, how the day had made him feel, some sort of warmth growing in his chassis.
It must have been anger, maybe those jabs from Cyclonus were hitting some tender part of him. There weren't supposed to be tender parts of him. And there weren’t.
Was it something worse? Jealousy? That felt worse than how he did, he’d become too acquainted with jealousy in his time, that wasn’t what this felt like.
He shook his helm. He’d gone a long time trying not to think about how he felt, he wasn’t supposed to feel at all. He scrunched himself around a bit. He was NOT going to start feeling now, decidedly so.
He offlined his optic, taking in a deep vent and trying to focus on how he would best be showing Cyclonus up at the next function they would attend.
And who knows, maybe that’d impress Tailgate too.
Not that he cared.
Not that he cared even a little bit.
…
“Frag, that sounds even stupider out loud.”
*
Unlike many of the other burgeoning clubs, this room hadn’t taken any renovations to prepare it for it’s club. It was simply an old meeting room, now with a much longer table and several more chairs. In the middle of the table there was a large flat sheet of draft paper, with one of Rung’s smaller model ships placed on it, along with a scattering of teeny tiny figurines of a few generic looking mechs placed around it. On the table in front of each chair there was a small box with a few polyhedral dice, and a glass of energon. To top everything off, there were a few bowls of various energon goodies to snack on as they played.
“Ah, Whirl, welcome in!” Rung called from the head of the table, behind a frosted tri folding datapad. “Oh, and Cyclonus and- Oh, wonderful to see you Tailgate.”
Whirl waved a bit as he sauntered around to the unoccupied side of the table.
Minimus Ambus and Brainstorm sat across from him trading quiet greetings. It wasn’t until Cyclonus and Tailgate had gotten situated in their seats that Whirl jolted upon noticing Rewind once again sitting in a chair off to the side.
Whirl cocked his head at him.
Rewind shrugged, pointing at his recorder. “My job!”
Whirl nodded, feeling a bit stupid.
Rung cleared his throat a bit, looking to Rewind for a moment, who offered a thumbs up as the little red light came on his visor to confirm he was filming. “Alright! Welcome, everyone, to the first meeting of the Rockets and Ruins club! As you all probably know, this is a tabletop roleplaying story and exploration game, meaning, you all will be playing as explorers and adventurers exploring and adventuring in ancient ruins on distant planets. There are a couple rules to go over before we-”
It was honestly a miracle that Whirl managed to focus for that much of the explanation before zoning out. He found it a bit ironic that they were pretending to do adventuring inside their own ship, which was fully capable of stopping at a planet and having an actual adventure at any time. He glanced around the table at the other faces, hoping to catch the optic of another bot who found the whole concept a bit stupid.
Instead he found Cyclonus and Tailgate both focusing on Rung with rapt attention. He could sense a modicum of excitement in both their fields, and a wash of… relaxation.
He supposed if it made them happy it mustn’t be so stupid.
He trained his optic on the bowl of energon goodies then, slowly reaching for one with his pincers. He made optic contact with Rewind as the smaller bot focused in on his servo moving, and slowly brought the treat up to the intake chute at the underside of his chin.
He gave Rewind a good look at it, lifting up his helm and munching quietly but grossly at him until he turned his lens back towards Rung.
Whirl rocked a bit in his chair as Rung continued to explain, tapping his claws against the table. Oh- his datapad! He recalled the confusing night he’d spent a cycle before trying to learn how to put together a character file. He dug around in his subspace for a second before producing a smudged and scratched datapad and pulling up his character.
“Hey there handsome.” He mumbled to himself at the shoddily drawn portrait he’d put together to adorn his character’s file. He tipped the datapad towards Tailgate, showing off the character he’d put together.
Tailgate peered down at it and smiled excitedly, before tapping at his own datapad and showing Whirl his character, a slightly better but still kind of bad drawing of a beefy looking bot with a tiny pair of spectacles and a pair of chainguns sticking proudly from his shoulders. Whirl snickered, reaching a claw forwards to start drawing spikes on Tailgate’s datapad.
“-with that all explained, who would like to introduce their character first, hm?” Rung asked as Whirl tuned back into the conversation mid shaft drawing.
“I can start!” Brainstorm cycled his vocalizer, haughtily turning his datapad around to show off a crude drawing of a ‘handsome’, slender, visored bot holding a giant canon over one shoulder. “I’ll be playing Formula, the universe’s most genius scientist.”
“Wonderful, and his class?” Rung prompted.
“Upper, but not in a kitschy way, you know?” Brainstorm said, turning the datapad back to himself to admire.
“I-I meant your character’s erm.. ‘Job’? Designation?” Rung chuckled.
“OH! Uhmmm…” He scanned his character file. “Heavy weapons expert!”
“Lovely, Minimus?” Rung shifted his gaze to the third in command.
Minimus shifted in his chair, sitting up impossibly straighter and presenting a sketch of his character, a tall, broadchested but delicate mech with a mouthpiece and a brilliant orange and blue paintjob. “I will be playing Posthaste, a military liaison and ambassador, he is of the swordsman class.” He said proudly, making sure to tip the datapad briefly towards Rewind to capture the image.
Whirl reached for another energon snack, quietly munching on it as Rung turned to Tailgate.
“Tailgate? How about your character?” He asked.
Tailgate flipped his screen around to the others, showing off his masterpiece. “I’m playing Guncrusher! He’s an archaeologist who’s also a tank, and he’s ummm….” He quickly turned his pad back to himself. “He’s a brawler class!”
Minimus leaned in to squint at the drawing in a bit of disbelief, Brainstorm doing the same in admiration instead. “Cool guns…” He whispered
“Yeah, super cool.” Tailgate said proudly.
Rung glanced over to Whirl. “And how about you Whirl?”
Whirl cycled his optics. “Me? Oh, I’m playing a scout, and you think Guncrusher’s cool get a load of,” Whirl flipped his datapad around, proudly showing off possibly the worst drawing of a mech with a hugely too kibbled helm and two big knives, “KNIFE!!”
He jerked the datapad around, making sure everyone got a faceplate-ful of his glorious creation. His character jerked a laugh out of Brainstorm, Tailgate, and Rewind, while Rung held his back behind a servo and smiled. Minimus was entirely unamused, giving Whirl a look.
Cyclonus let out a slightly forced vent, his equivalent of laughing hysterically when it came to one of Whirl’s machinations.
Rung cleared his vocalizer. “Hah, alright, wonderful, and Cyclonus?”
Cyclonus nodded a bit, picking up his datapad. “I’ll be playing Achord, a historian.” He turned the pad around delicately to show a lovingly rendered image of a black, red, and teal plated mech with a datapad in hand. “He is a medic class.”
The bots at the table gave a collective noise of impressed awe at Cyclonus’s carefully curated character portrait. Whirl cocked his head a bit. He was no Knife, but Achord seemed pretty cool. He guessed. For Cyclonus.
“Alright, with that all said- lets get ready to ‘roll out’ as they say!” Rung said, laughing at his own joke as he pushed his spectacles up his face.
*
The rain pounded heavily on the steel roof of the bar. It was a seedy hole in the wall, something that hardly counted as civilization, as it was one of the few mech made structures that weren't ruins on this ancient abandoned colony planet.
Slick with rain, Posthaste entered the bar solemnly, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the military shuttle that had dropped him off. He strode to the bar and took a seat next to the hulking (TG: Oo yeah, hulking is a good word!!)archaeologist that was to be his work partner for the foreseeable future.
“Guncrusher, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” said Posthaste, offering a servo in greeting.
*
“Oh- can i shake his servo super strongly?” Tailgate asked, turning his attention to Rung.
Rung beamed, flipping through some files on his datapad screen. “Ah yes, Minimus, Tailgate, both of you roll the icosahedron I’ve provided. You may add your strength bonuses from your character files to this roll to determine which of you shakes hardest.”
Minimus nodded, delicately plucking up the dice and tossing it into the box. He frowned, looking across the table at Tailgate as he rolled his own dice. “With my bonus that will be a ten.” He said.
“And with mine its a twenty one!” Tailgate chirped triumphantly.
*
Posthaste’s digits ground together uncomfortably in Guncrusher’s grip. “Quite the strength you have.” He observed, rubbing his servo upon being released from Guncrusher’s vicehold.
“Oh yeah, its like, one of my biggest features, I get to add 8 to every roll with my strength.” Guncrusher boomed.
(MM: You can’t just talk about his statistics he doesn't know that he has statistics-)
From behind the pair, there entered a new figure, slender and strapped with a canon. “HAIL AND WELL MET GOOD MECHS!” Began Formula, skipping up to the bar. “Your FINEST cube of engex please.” He crooned to the bartender.
*
“Oh that CANNOT be your character voice-!” Tailgate giggled.
“Oh it can- hold on-” Brainstorm turned his datapad over to Tailgate, pointing at a spot in his character notes. “Sorry it says I can do whatever I want forever.” He shrugged sarcastically.
*
“Only the greatest engex for ME, the GREATEST scientific genius in the entire universe.” Formula continued as the bartender exhasperatedly poured him a cube of the best engex he could muster, not that it was even particularly good.
“Ah, Guncrusher, is this another one of your colleagues?” Posthaste inquired.
“Yep! He’s the greatest scientific genius in the universe which makes great timing since we’re gonna need some scientific genius to do all the archaeology we’re going to do.” Gungrusher confirmed. Formula nodded wisely, taking a sip of his engex.
“...I see, so then is there anyone else that will be joining us?” Posthaste asked.
From over his shoulder, Posthaste could sense a sudden oncoming danger. Raising his arm up quickly, he was able to catch the stool flying for his head before it made contact.
*
“WHY- FOR WHAT REASON ARE YOU THROWING STOOLS AT ME!” Minimus balked.
Whirl looked over at Rung. “I’d like to roll to throw another stool please.” He said as Brainstorm cackled.
“WHY!!” Minimus wailed.
“Alright, roll your strength to throw the next stool.” Rung nodded, trying to wrestle his face into a neutral expression rather than smiling.
“RUNG!!” The third in command whipped his faceplate around to look at him in abject despair.
“There’s no rule that says he can’t throw furniture, Minimus.” Cyclonus observed as he scrolled through the rule document Rung had forwarded them.
“I got an eighteen!” Whirl cheered.
“Does that exceed your armour class, Posthaste?” Rung asked.
*
The stool pinged off his back plating with a loud *WHOK* noise.
“OW!” Posthaste shouted in indignation, turning around to face his assailant.
Knife held up his servos, making crude gestures at the liaison for no discernible reason. “I’m the scout! I’m KNIFE! But you can call me anytime.”
*
“Whirl you’re not taking this seriously.” Minimus growled.
“Rung said the first rule was to have fun and be yourself!!” Tailgate protested. “You’re having fun, right Whirl?”
Whirl beamed. “I’m having oodles of fun! ANOTHER STOOL!”
Minimus grabbed his own helm, attempting to massage his temples. “Rung may I engage Knife in battle please.”
Rung smiled reservedly. “Of course, you’ll have to roll-”
“I’d like to use my defender feature to block Posthaste’s attack.” Cyclonus interjected.
The entire table, excluding Minimus and Cyclonus, burst into laughter.
“Using this feature I can use an item of 25 pounds or lighter to block an attack from an aggressive creature up to one size above medium-” He continued, biting back a smile.
“Hehe-! Hah-! And- *ahem* and what do you use to block Posthaste’s attack?” Rung wheezed.
*
Steel clanged against stool leg as Posthaste brought his rapier down upon Achords raised chair as he stood before Knife.
“I’ll thank you not to assault my hired scout.” Achord said grimly. “It’s not a good first impression, ambassador.
“Oh slag.” Formula murmured.
“Oh frag!” Guncrusher whispered.
“My apologies, Achord- I didn’t know that throwing STOOLS at people you have yet to INTRODUCE YOURSELF TO was a normal occurrence for your scout.”
“You’d better believe it!!” Knife cackled.
“He’s a bit tetchy, but you get used to him.” Achord shrugged.
“Ah! The archaeological team appears to have gathered itself!” A stranger called, a broad shouldered beige plated femme with a goggled helm and blue racing stripes. “Let’s get to work then, if you’re all done throwing chairs and swigging engex.”
*
**
***
“And with that, as you all make your way towards the ruins of Talavantor’s stronghold, we are going to end this session of Rockets and Ruins! Thank you all so much for attending.” Rung clapped his servos together.
The whole table let out a collective excited, if disappointed, vent in response to the close of the session.
“A wonderfully judged game.” Minimus complimented as he gathered his datapad.
“Oh yes, quite stimulating!” Brainstorm agreed through an intakeful of energon crisp crumbs.
“So fun, I can’t wait to see what happens next!” Tailgate chirped, picking up his datapad and climbing down off his chair.
Whirl bobbed his helm. “It was nice! Usually nobody lets me get away with throwing stuff at them!” He laughed.
Cyclonus nodded as well. “Thank you for the session, Rung.” He said formally, bowing his head as he tucked his chair back under the table.
The bots all passed by Rewind as they exited, Tailgate lingering for a moment.
“So do you think that you’d ever play a round?” He asked, beginning to walk down the hall beside the fellow minibot.
“Oh definitely! I love this kind of stuff.” Rewind nodded.
“So why not play for the first session?”
Rewind shrugged. “I like to get the club stuff from an outside perspective first. Its a good taste tester. Besides, aren’t you three doing the same kind of thing?”
Cyclonus nodded a bit. “Yes, Tailgate is quite indecisive. Too many fun things to try, yes?”
Tailgate chuckled sheepishly, a little hint of embarrassment in his voice. “I guess so! I dunno! I’m just big on experiences, yknow?”
Rewind laughed, nudging his shoulder pad against Tailgate’s. “You’re telling me.”
Cyclonus glanced over his shoulder as they reached a fork in the hallways, one a fast track back to Rewind’s hab suite, the other back to the couple’s unit. He made eye contact with Whirl.
Whirl peered down the hallway, frozen for a long second. He could feel that heavy feeling creeping at his spark when he thought about returning ‘home’.
“You coming, Whirl?” Tailgate inquired, snapping Whirl out of his brief reverie. He looked back, the group having stopped to regard him.
“... Yeah… Yeah, I’ll come.” He said with a bit of a shrug. “Just make better spritzers this time, yeah?” He jabbed, catching up with the group as Tailgate looked at him aghast.
“What! My spritzers are great!” He gasped, punching Whirl in the hip lightly- or at least as lightly as the outlier could manage. The minibot rounded on Cyclonus. “You said they were good!!”
Cyclonus quickly averted his gaze and quickened his pace.
“Wha-! CYCLONUS!!” Tailgate shouted, jogging after him.
Rewind snickered behind a servo.
Whirl leaned down and lowered his voice. “They’re really terrible, just have the engex straight, I say.”
“Oh, I know, they’re awful.” Rewind chuckled. There was a beat of quiet between them as they observed Tailgate chasing his speedwalking conjunx down the hall. “So… you’ve been spending a lot of time with those two, huh?”
Whirl tensed. “And whats it to ya?”
“I dunno, its just sweet is all.” He shrugged. “And its good to see you out more.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Is it unexpected? You were kind of hiding for a few deca-cycles, Whirl.”
“Not that-! I mean.”
Whirl thought for a moment, mulling over his words. Tailgate had caught up with Cyclonus, and was laying playful punches into his thigh as the taller bot pushed him back by the helm.
“... I guess I didn’t expect people to be happy about seeing me.”
Rewind was quiet for a stretch. Whirl peeked at him from out of the corner of his optic, his face inscrutable.
“I think plenty of us have reason to be.” He said finally, absently scratching at his chassis, right over where his spark would be.
There was that warm feeling again. Whirl mirrored Rewind’s motion, swallowing thickly.
“... Gross.” He breathed, scrunching his optic a bit in feigned disgust at the emotionality of it all.
Rewind laughed.
So did Whirl.
__________
Post chapter authors note:
I DID NOT FORGET THAT WHIRL GAVE REWIND A LIFE SAVING ENERGON TRANSFUSION I DID NOT FORGET THAT! WHY DONT WE TALK ABOUT THIS MORE
#maccadam#cywhirlgate#cyclonus#whirl#tailgate#mtmte cyclonus#mtmte tailgate#mtmte whirl#fluff#comedy#transformers#transformers mtmte#tf mtmte#tf lost light#transformers fanfic
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! I saw your post about critiquing another persons art work and it made me realize i dont like my current drawing process
Mostly because I have shaky hands and don’t really like line art because it takes me too long and i still dont like how it looks so im trying to switch to a more painterly style
Do you have any advice? Particularly on defining 3d forms?
P.S.
(I love your art style! You draw so beautifully and I love how you stylize anatomy and hair particularly)
yeah i feel you, i think everyone starts digital art with a lineart heavy style in mind and then gradually drop it as it is pretty hard to master
i'm not sure i'm the best person to ask about defining 3D forms as i myself struggle with that, but i thing that i noticed is that if you don't have a stable base or foundation to paint over then the process will become exponentially harder. So what i do is i make sure i have a cohesive sketch. Not a clean one, not a pretty one, but one where i am sure where everything goes and one that helps me predict and better visualize how things will end up once i get there. If the sketch is so messy to the point where i can't tell a leg apart or i don't know the general form of the fabric then i'll have a much, much harder time rendering later on.. So i think making sure the "skeleton" of your art is set in place. Again it's not about it looking good or clean it's about knowing what you'll be doing with it in the later stages.
But let's say you do have a clean sketch, or even lineart. I think the easiest way to give form to your subject is by choosing a light source ( it doesn't have to be dramatic, it can just be ambient light ) and then paint shadows in the areas where light can't reach. It depends on your style really, but for me i use a darker (but still saturated) color under the chin, under the eyes, where the bangs/hair meets the face and for the nose area i kinda just make a blob (i don't paint noses that much as you might have noticed bdshj but you know,, check out other artists you like and examine how they handle shading). Just try to think of everything as oversimplified shapes. limbs are cylinders, the torso is like a parallelipiped or a box or a sack of beans or whatever you see fit, the head another box etc... just keep it simple, Less is more
Oh and also, for a painterly style, i suggest avoiding overkilling it with the rendering. Let the brush strokes speak for themselves and keep it vague/ abstract. Our brains are smart and they loove filling in blanks for us if they're given some general information so let the viewer do the hard work, don't explain everything.. this is also a good way to practice developing an artstyle but i'm getting off topic if i wasn't blabbering enough already. A painterly style is imperfect and messy and vague at times and you should let it be that way, don't force perfection onto it as you'll deprive it of humanity
these are my two cents on the matter hope it made sense and helped in any way? if not you can always watch yt videos or listen to more qualified people than me
#sinix marco bucci ahmed aldoori#i think that's the holy trinity#they explain stuff pretty well#also don't forget to analyze other's work and see what They do#no need to reinvent the wheel u know#ask iztea
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Marinated Doodles: Eastern Mind AU edition
Say hello to draft number one; part one of me cleaning up my drafts.
Turns out this was more messy that I thought it was; It was originally mixed in with OC stuff! Though I'm going to fully make this one just the fanart related ones instead.
... Guys. Have I ever told y'all that I have an Eastern Mind swap AU
A swap AU where the Kings takes Rin and his reincarnations' place. Meaning that Rin and his reincarnations would be the Kings of Tongnou, while Tougyou and the rest would be the player and the reincarnations. Specifically, the main five (Rin, Byou, Tou, Sha, Kai) would be THE kings, and the other four (Jin, Retsu, Zen, Gyou) would be the assistants of the four. Also their "end suffix -gyou" are given to the main five - mostly because I see it as a way to define the kings position. Which means:
The Kings are Rin-gyou, Sha-gyou, Byou-gyou, "Tou"-gyou, and Kai-gyou
The Player/Playable characters are To, King, Sui, Moku, and Ka.
In this occasion I will refer Swap! Tougyou as simply "To" (not Tou), to avoid confusion. Anyways, the plot would be roughly the same; To lost his soul and travelled to Tongnou to retrieve it back, and that he would need to die 4 times. What would be different though, is that the puzzles and missions of To's reincarnation would have been more deeper, as well as the delivery and reactions of the main five towards the player.
... Honestly I wasn't sure if this is essentially a personality swap in disguise, but I guess the more I looked back at it, it seems like it LMAO. Or y'know this AU could also be my past self yearning for more in depth interactions between the characters that could have happened in the canon game....
Anyways, here was the first draft (drawn on a very awful brown paper that was used a backing for paper exam pads... hopefully that sounds real; I have no clue what the English term for it lol).
I later cleaned it up and redrew it in a bigger piece of paper, heck I even scanned it so it would look bright!
I didn't take Sha-gyou's page, iirc, it's because I couldn't figure out if I want to put their mouth on the waist or not... welp. I struggled here because I don't want to make the designs of both sides looking like 50/50. Maybe that's why I kinda stopped after a while (also because I have assignments too duh, I'm still senior high at that time!)
[Edit]: I do however have this instead:
That aside, I unfortunately didn't have a full cleaned up designs for To and his reincarnations, so y'all will have this mess instead.
(ignore the Ka-gyou dragon, ignore the Gyou-za joke... and the funny ass scenario on Ka-gyou and Sui-gyou's spice tolerance level; heck I should draw that later maybe)
In terms of their appearance, I made Swap! Rin and his reincarnations have more complex designs, parallel to the canon Kings. This goes the opposite with Swap! Tougyou and the rest, with them having simpler designs. (To would just look like canon Rin, the only difference would be having a moustache hELP LMAO).
I also like to think that, perhaps Moku and Ka would be less humanoid compared to King and Sui. Think of it as a parallel to how 4 of the 8 canon reincarnations (not including Rin) are more creature than humanoid.
Anyways, bonus doodles of Kai-gyou and Sha-gyou.... Because I love those two too much at that time:
And that's all of this AU. I feel like I made more of them but I couldn't find them anywhere perhaps some is in digital; I'll give an update if there is lol).
...There's a slim chance that I might revisit the whole thing again, because the designs felt messy. Who knows? It'll happen whenever I convinced myself to get interested in it again.
#ygiromadethis#artists on tumblr#ygirorambles#traditional art#eastern mind#osamu sato#eastern mind swap au#these are so old help#doodles
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
What do Adam and Evelyn do well trapped in the house?
Talk.
They're making up for a lot of miscommunication and lost time right about now. A lot of long conversations. Because really, what else are they going to do?
Evelin never bothered buying a digital television, all she's got is her computer and phone. They try to watch movies on the computer, at least to get their minds off things, but staring at the screen for too long makes Adam feel uneasy it just reminds him of...something he'd rather forget.
They both like music, though! Ev kept a lot of the mixtapes and CDs they used to make for each other, so they're still able to enjoy those! It fills in the space when things get quiet. The occasional board game is also fun.
They also try to spend some time figuring out what Adam can do, how much he can control, etc. They don't spend too much time doing it, it kinda wears him out and he gets nervous because he doesn't know if he'll end up doing something that might scare Evelin, or worse. I mean, God forbid he accidentally gave her M.A-
And during all this, they're keeping tabs on Sarah as well. They know it's only a matter of time before they have to tell her, they're just waiting for things to die down a bit. Knowing Mandela, though, things aren't going to die down, and they're probably going to have to come clean sooner or later.
Neither of them are ready for what's going to happen during that conversation.
#finding eden au#fe adam#fe evelin#moonflwer writes#moonflwer answers#tmc au#tmc#adam murray#evelin miller
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
Listen, clone wars era rex is the sweetest sub ever. Zero brat energy like others (coughwolffecough), he is absolutely there to please you and experience all the ways you make him feel loved. But it takes a bit for him to find out that he actually likes being a sub. With everything he is responsible for, I think he feels to bring that same energy to the bedroom - only problem is he isn’t very experienced. He’s not a virgin, but the most he's had are some quickies in the bathroom of 79s. So when you first get together, he feels he needs to be the one taking charge (even though he isn’t really sure what to do). It’s only after a particularly difficult mission when he is with you and he is at a loss of what to do. He knows he needs you, but he can’t focus. He just wants to stop thinking about how badly the mission went, how many brothers he lost. He just wants to get lost in you. That’s when you take over. You start showering him with love, kisses, words of praise, everything. You tell him all the things you’re going to do to him and he immediately falls for it. Relinquishing control is calming and a relief, something he never expected. He loves seeing you in power, seeing his smart and strong girl taking over, dishing out orders that Rex is all too ready to follow. As long as it means you’ll sit on his face, ride him, suck his dick, or just touch him, he’s all for it. Not to mention it lets him forget that he is a captain. In these moments, it’s just you and him.....Or I mean something like that. I dunno 😬
insp
VEE!!! 🆘️ "He brings a new meaning to 'good soldiers follow orders'" 😈😏 you rightttttt
Look, I'm all for dom Rex - I love to write it and I love to read it. That being said, I'm totally on board with the idea of having to show Rex exactly what he needs for him to feel good, to forget - especially after an extremely tough and emotionally/mentally/physically draining mission. Rex just wants - no, needs - someone else to take control every now and then, even if he doesn’t realize it at first.
SOOOO this kinda got away from me. literally could have wrote more but I have an assignment to work on (lmaooo). maybe I’ll do like a continuation of this later on? if that’s what the people want?
some warnings include: face riding, sub!rex, no-no words, uhhh... 🥴
AS ALWAYS, 18+ only under the cut :’)
***
Rex stands at your doorway, his forehead glued to the arm that's propped up against the door frame, helmet loosely gripped by his other hand hanging down at his side. It hurts to see him like this - drained, both physically and mentally. Bags under his tired eyes. Dirt on his face and caked on all over his armor. Even though he was created for battle, it's doing a number on him with each and every one he makes it out of; he physically makes it out of each and every battle, but not mentally, and not emotionally. It's always there - the loss, the bloodshed, the need to take charge, and the responsibility to ensure his men's safety - lingering inside his head no matter where he is or what he's doing.
Including the times when what he's doing is you.
When you and Rex first got together he was unsure, a little on the inexperienced side, but he was rough. You didn't mind of course; you liked it rough, and it was never like he'd hurt you or would ever come near to hurting you. You thought that maybe the roughness was due to his sexual inexperience, that the only other times he’d have sex in the past were just that. You really didn’t think too much about it, especially not when he was in the middle of pounding you into another galaxy before making you cum all over his cock over and over again.
As time went on, you started to understand where the roughness within the intimacy was stemming from; everything that had happened on the actual battlefield before he'd come home - including the battlefield within his mind - was being channeled into the way he handled you. Even outside the warzone, safe within your arms, Rex feels he needs to maintain control - to take charge. You understood, and let him have his outlet - It's not like you weren't benefiting from it; Rex may not have had much to go on before fucking you for the first time, but after months and months of practice, he'd become a fucking god in the bedroom.
There were definitely softer moments when he'd be crowded over you, trailing messy kisses from your collarbone up to your lips, his hips gently thrusting into you while hitting oh so deep. When your lips would be just barely touching as you breathed in each other's moans. When you'd both maintain eye-contact while simultaneously unraveling. The more gentle, loving, and softer moments weren't ones that followed his return home from a long deployment, no - those were reserved for all the times in between. You'd fallen in love with each other, but refrained from mouthing those three words in fear that you'd both be punished from feeling such forbidden things for one another.
And so tonight, seeing the drained and defeated expression engrained in his handsome features and the way his body slumped forward as he entered your apartment after a long couple of weeks was a telltale sign that this would be one of those rough nights.
You wanted to try something new, though.
***
"I want to take care of you, Rex."
He’d just got out of the ‘fresher, giving you some time to think while he was getting cleaned up. A towel loosely hangs around his hips, water droplets gliding down his toned muscles as he moves closer to where you’re sat at the foot of your bed.
"You will take care of me, cyare." He grins while rubbing his hands along your upper arms. You release a puff of air from your nostrils, focusing on a particular water droplet slowly descending from his collarbone and trailing down to where the material of the towel soaks it right up before tilting your head to meet his eyes.
You shake your head with a smile, speaking softly as you rest your hand against his abdomen, "No, that's not what I mean." You’re met with an amused yet confused look and you continue, "I want you to just lay back, and let me handle things for once. Is that okay?"
"I..." He trails off, clearly not sure what to say. You know he must’ve already had a plan on how the night would go, and that plan was probably supposed to take effect after he drops his towel. Now you’re met with the face of a man who is unsure of what to do now that the plans are about to change - he’s nervous. You keep that smile on your lips when you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, bringing the backs of his hands up to your lips and placing soft kisses on each one.
"You're safe with me, Rex. Safe here. You don't need to think about everything when you're here with me, okay? I just.... wanna try something."
***
Wow. What a fucking vision he is right now.
Rex, the esteemed Captain of the five-oh-first, completely bare and sprawled out on his back on top of your sheets, has his head craned to watch you strip at the foot of the bed. His cock is painfully hard, twitching ever so slightly with each of his eager heart beats as he struggles to watch you undress - teasingly slow.
"Look at you, Rex." You audibly marvel at man you love, knowing what the praise does to him - it's very evident in how his glistening chest rapidly rises and falls and in the twitching of fingers. "My handsome, brave Rex. So good for me, doing just as I say," you coo at him, making your way from the foot of the bed to the side where your naked body can be level with his head. He turns his face towards you, his pupils blown wide and brow furrowed. He needs this. You crouch down, moving to where your eyes are in line with his as you reach to caress his sharp cheekbone. "Does it feel good so far, Rex?" you whisper while running your thumb along his bottom lip. "Does it feel good to let someone else call the shots for once?"
"Y-yes," he strains, followed by a muffled groan when you sink your thumb into his hot mouth. His eyes search for approval and you nod to him with a sweet smile before he begins to gently suck at your thumb - his perfect lips closing a seal around the thickest digit as you move it in and out slowly.
"First," you pull your thumb from his lips before standing up, "I'm gonna ride that pretty face of yours. If you're good and keep your hands to yourself I might sit on your gorgeous cock and ride you until I tell you to cum. How does that sound?" You punctuate your plans by closing your lips around the same thumb that was just in Rex's mouth, giving a couple sucks while staring right into his eyes before popping it out and tracing his abs with the soaked digit. The groan of approval that spills from Rex's lips goes straight to your cunt.
Wasting no more time, you climb on the bed and throw one leg on the other side on his face. Gripping the headboard for balance, you begin to sink down against him and are instantly met with his expert tongue, licking through your folds before you’re all the way sat. Fuck. He always was the best with his tongue, but this time, you’re the one in control. Crouched and straddled over his face, you begin to gently move your hips back and forth against the wet muscle, letting your already soaked cunt slide against his perfect face. You have never done something like this before, and oh fucking boy is it exhilarating.
It isn’t very long before you start to feel the blossom of heat within your core, the intense shockwaves that trickle through your body making you quiver against his face. You wanted this whole thing to be about Rex, but there’s no stopping the orgasm that shatters its way through you, making you cry out and smack a palm against the headboard. Rex’s tongue works in double-time, gliding back and forth to collect your release and stopping to flick at your clit in between deep groans. You feel him hum - deep and dark - beneath you, the vibrations making you nearly fall forward from the intensity.
“R-rex,” you pant, peering down to look at his dark honey eyes as they meet yours while his tongue continues its assault. You lower a hand to tap at his head, and his tongue disappears back into his mouth. When you lift off his face, you inch yourself downwards, placing kisses on every spot of skin your mouth can reach as you make your way to his thighs. He’s trembling, fighting to keep his hands at his sides but he does so like a good boy - and you tell him just that.
You let out a blissed-out sigh, now straddling his thighs while your palms rest against his chest. “You did so good for me, Rex. Fuck, you look so pretty with all of me on your handsome face.” He doesn’t say a word, just stares at you with pleading eyes, lips glistening and parted. His cock twitches in front of you - swollen and desperate.
You lean forward to meet his face, your lips just barely touching his as you whisper into his agape mouth, “You want me to fuck you, Rex?” punctuated by a nibble to his bottom lip. His only response is a throaty moan before you lean back to watch him, your fingers tracing invisible patterns along the dark skin of his thighs. You raise a brow at him, signaling your need for a verbal answer to which he visibly gulps, eyes clamping shut as he nods before choking out:
“P-please fuck me, cyare.”
***
edit: I’m literally so sorry that I keep forgetting to tag my Clone Bois peeps in things like this :(((
@deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @bvcketfvcker
#ngl I read your thot in the car and got super excited to write about it when I was able to get to my laptop#thots with M#and VEE :')#sub!rex#literally a god-tier thot#captain rex smut#captain rex x reader#djarrex writes
344 notes
·
View notes
Text
Twice the Fun
Pairing: Severus Snape x reader
Requested by Anonymous
Summary: Severus’ new potion gives twice the fun...
Smut!
A/N: It was kinda hard to get the cloning potion aspect right, so I hope it’s not too confusing
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you asked, warily eyeing the vial in your husband’s hand. “I am,” he replied, stepping closer to you. “I’ve tested it extensively, and it’s completely safe. And if you decide you don’t want to continue, I have the antidote right here.” Severus had perfected a cloning potion that would make an exact duplicate of the drinker. He claimed that the clone would have complete sentience, looking and acting like a mirror image.
After a moment, you nodded, and Severus smiled. “I’ll make you feel so good, darling. Or should I say, we will?” You scoffed at the bad joke, but sighed when Severus pressed his lips to yours. You melted in his arms, arousal building steadily in your belly. The prospect of having two of your husband fucking you was insanely arousing, and already, your pussy was dripping. Severus broke the kiss, and an instant later, there were two sets of lips on you.
It was the oddest thing Severus had ever experienced. He was still himself; he still felt his body, still felt you in his arms, still saw you with his own eyes, but at the same time, he was standing behind you. He saw himself kissing you, he felt himself standing behind you, and he felt his cock throbbing, both on his own body and on the clone’s. In a word: it felt indescribable. It was as if his mind was split in two: one half in his true body, the other in the clone’s.
The desire for the clone to move forward hadn’t even formed when he did, pressing his lips to your neck. You gasped, turning in Severus’s, the real Severus, arms to look behind you. “Merlin, this is weird,” you whispered, but you couldn’t deny the need you felt. “Is this alright?” Severus asked, and you nodded. “More than alright,” you replied, and experimentally, you turned and pressed a kiss to clone-Severus’ lips. It felt like a phantom sensation, like you were breathing over Severus’ lips. Clone-Severus put his hands on your hips, and Severus felt the ghost of the warmth of your skin on his palms.
“Shall we move to the bed?” Severus asked, and you nodded. “Yes, please.” Severus hummed, taking your hand and leading you to the bed, sitting against the headboard, opening his arms to you. Clone-Severus followed suit, sitting at your side when you sat in Severus’ lap. His will influenced the clone’s actions, hardly requiring a thought on Severus’ part. “What do you want, my love?” Severus asked, kissing you again. Clone-Severus came to sit directly behind you, trailing his hands over your bare skin. The two of you had stripped bare before Severus had taken the potion, which left the clone naked as well.
“I want both of you,” you said, already breathless. “I want both cocks inside of me.” Both Severus and Clone-Severus moaned, which made you moan. “Alright, sweetheart. But which of us do you want in your tight little cunt?” “You, Sev,” you replied, but realized that might be a bit vague. “The real you” “Of course, darling.” Severus maneuvered you so you were lying in his lap sideways, head near his left shoulder. Clone-Severus moved from the bed, digging through the bedside table and pulling out the lubricant. “Tell me stop and I will,” Severus said, and you nodded. “I will, I promise.”
Then Severus’ lips were on yours, and oh Merlin, Clone-Severus’ lips were on your cunt, licking and sucking, tongue flicking your clit. A slicked finger prodded at your ass, and you tensed a bit before relaxing, letting the digit in. Clone-Severus’ ministrations not only served to relax you and allow him to prep you, but combined with Severus’ lips on yours, it also was drawing you closer and closer to the edge. “Sev,” you moaned, Severus’ hands on your face, your neck, your breasts, everywhere.
“Yes, sweetheart?” “I can do another.” Clone-Severus reacted at once pushing a second finger into you alongside the first. You arched you back, moaning against Severus’ lips. “Merlin, you’re beautiful,” Severus said. “Letting me fuck both your pretty holes.” A third finger entered you, and you cried out. Clone-Severus sucked hard on your clit, and that pushed you over the edge, rolling your hips as you came, moaning against Severus’ lips.
“Are you ready, darling?” your husband asked, stroking your side. “Yes, Sev, please!” Clone-Severus slowly retracted his fingers, casting a cleaning charm on them. Both Severus and Clone-Severus positioned you how they wanted you; facing Severus, straddling his hips, with Clone-Severus sitting behind you, his legs framing yours. “Alright,” Severus said, holding your hips, while Clone-Severus did the same. “We’ll take your ass first.”
Clone-Severus took his cock in hand, hissing at the contact, and lined himself up at your rear entrance. “Easy now, love,” he said, the first words he’d spoken, and you nodded, slowly and gently lowering yourself down. Your body resisted, but after a moment, he entered you, making your eyes go wide and a moan leave your mouth. “Alright?” Severus asked, and you nodded. “Y-yeah,” you said, tentatively bouncing your hips, letting yourself adjust to the feeling of being filled in such a way.
Severus felt just a fraction of Clone-Severus’ pleasure, nowhere near enough to truly stimulate him, but enough to tease. A few minutes later, you grabbed at Severus’ shoulder, slowing your hips. “I need you, please Sev!” Severus cooed, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “And you have me,” he said, lining himself up with your soaked pussy. He thrust up into you, making you scream with pleasure. Severus could feel his clone’s cock inside you, and he moaned, as did the clone.
The room was filled with the sound of three moans, the slight creaking of the bed. You’d never felt so full, so completely and utterly full. The pleasure was otherworldly, Severus’ cock was ramming your g-spot with every thrust, Clone-Severus’ cock providing a delicious stretch that you knew would be the stuff of fantasy for the rest of your life. Clone-Severus attached his lips to your neck, sucking a mark onto the left side of your throat, while Severus sucked a mark onto the right.
Your head was fogged with lust and want, head lolling back onto Clone-Severus’ shoulder. Your legs were trembling from the strain of riding two cocks, and Severus gripped them and bounced your hips for you. After a moment, Clone-Severus did the same, bearing the entirety of your weight, doing all the work for you. Clone-Severus brought a hand around to rub your clit, and you moaned loudly, stars popping before your eyes.
You were moments away from coming, and you could only hope Severus was too. And as he always did, Severus sensed that you were close, and he bounced your hips faster. “I want you to come,” he rasped, close himself by the sound of it. “Come on my cock, come for me.” Clone-Severus moaned his assent, and you felt both cocks twitch within you. Only four bounces of your hips later, you were coming, twitching in their hold, moaning Severus’ name, his lips on yours. A moment later, he and Clone-Severus came in sync, both moaning guttaraly.
You felt their come inside you, and you sighed, leaning forward into Severus’ chest. Slowly, Clone-Severus pulled out of you, and you whined at the loss. Severus pulled out of you as well, settling you comfortably in his lap, kissing your forehead. He took the antidote from the nightstand, downing the vial. Clone-Severus winked out of existence like he never existed, and Severus turned his attention to you.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, flicking his wand and casting the cleaning and contraceptives. “Merlin’s fucking tits, that was fucking amazing.” Severus smiled, kissing you deeply. “Was it?” “Yeah. I never thought… just wow. Wow, Sev.” “I know, I feel the same. That was insanely sexy. Watching you bounce on my cock, shit.” You nodded, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “But I think I prefer having sex with just one of you.” Severus nodded, feeling the same deep down. “We’ll save it for special occasions, then. Twice the fun?” You laughed, nodding. “Twice the fun,” you agreed.
#severus snape x reader#severus snape x you#harry potter fanfiction#snape x reader#snape x you#harry potter reader insert
124 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒃𝒐𝒚
pairing : jisung x reader
word count : 1.6k
warnings : smut, mommy kink, use of babyboy but not age regression!!!, also only babyboy and sungie are used for jisung, fairly gender-neutral reader, soft dom!reader, sub!jisung, jisung has an oral fixation, a small bit of teasing, thigh riding, praise, jisung is whiny, nipple play kinda???, jisung sucks on reader’s chest, he’s also gagged using the reader’s fingers, mostly jisung focused tbh, a small tiny mention of edging and a small mention of tears, jisung cums in his pants, brief aftercare mention (don’t forget it irl though, it’s vvv important)
author’s note! ahh my first official writing!! i wrote this in like an hour and a half maybe??? babyboy!sungie = lots of motivation
also also this is dedicated to cedar <3 @http-chan bc they supported me in making this blog and listened to all of my thoughts about babyboy!sungie <3
it’s incredibly easy to tell when jisung is needy.
his eyes get even more round than they usually are and he takes glances at you that he thinks are sneaky but give him away instantly. he chews on his bottom lip and starts fidgeting with his fingers, playing with the hem of one of his oversized sweaters that he normally wears. he won’t come out right to say what he wants, waiting for you to pick up on his signals, but instantly blushes and hides when you ask him what he wants.
it’s incredibly easy to tell when jisung is needy. and that’s where you are now.
the male had been setting up a movie and some snacks for an at-home date you two were having when you noticed the first sign; the round eyes and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. a couple minutes later, he began to fidget, glancing at you on the couch. once he’s finished setting the movie up and settles beside you, that’s when it becomes obvious. he can barely sit still, small whines passing his lips, trying to keep his eyes focused on the movie in front of him. you can easily see the movements under the blanket over your laps as he tries to find the most subtle way to tell you what he wants.
the opening scenes have barely begun when you reach a hand over onto his thigh, jisung letting out a small squeak at the sudden contact.
“sungie,” you start, the nickname eliciting a small whine from his lips, “why’re you so fidgety? aren’t you going to pay attention to the movie?”
he knows you know. and he knows that you won’t give him what he wants until he asks for it. jisung knows you love hearing him ask for whatever it is that he wants, you love hearing him beg. he’s torn between giving into your fake obliviousness and keeping his facade up until you give into him. he turns to look at you and pouts when he realizes that you’re not even looking at him. you’re playing a game with him, seeing how long he can last before he gives in. and so far, you’re winning.
jisung tries to hold back, he really does, but with your hand moving up towards the growing bulge in his sweatpants and the occasional question asking him if he’s alright is becoming too much for him to handle. your hand eventually brushes over his clothed cock, claiming you were reaching for the popcorn and that’s when he breaks. a small, high pitched whine leaves his lips and his hand moves to tug on your sleeve. you turn to look at him, only to see a small pout formed on his lips, his eyes big and glossy. just that one look is enough to know that jisung’s in his subspace now and you pause the movie to give him your full attention.
“m-mommy,” he murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip as pink dusts his cheeks, trying to figure out the words to express his want.
“yes, babyboy? what’s the matter?” you ask, voice soft and smooth as it always is when you’re talking to jisung.
the effect of the name is clear from the way jisung’s face grows more red, the pout turning into a shy smile. his hands pull away from fidgeting with his sweater to play with the hem of your top, looking up at you pleadingly.
“c-can i...can i...w-want-” jisung stammers, flushing more every time he tries to explain what he wants.
you find his shyness adorable, smiling encouragingly as he tries to find the right words to say. you decide to have a little mercy on him, not pushing for the full request like you normally might have. instead, you pull the male onto your lap, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“such a good boy aren’t you, babyboy? using your words for mommy,” you praise and he whines again softly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “i know what you want, sungie, it’s alright”.
you pull him back slightly to tug your top off, revealing your chest. jisung’s oral fixation isn’t always sexual, sometimes just needing something to ground and calm him but with the way his hips have started moving slowly against your thigh, you know that this is more than that.
his reaction is nearly instant, looking up at you briefly for permission before leaning down and attaching his lips to your chest. his eyes flutter shut and he lets out a small content sigh, noticeably relaxing in your lap. jisung is slipping further into his space the more you indulge him, his hands wrapping around you loosely to ensure you don’t go anywhere. he’s completely enamoured, lips sealing around your nipple to suckle gently before they part and continue their previous actions.
every one of your soft moans and slight change in the gentle grip you have on his sweater spurs him on, a thin trail of saliva remaining between his lips and your chest when he pulls back briefly to switch to your other nipple. your hand occasionally runs through his hair, getting more content sighs and whines in reply.
noticing the subtle movements of his hips against your thigh, your hands move down to his hips, stilling them for a moment.
“wanna ride my thigh, babyboy?” you ask, getting an enthusiastic nod and a muffled “yes please” in response.
“always such good manners, sungie,” you smile, starting to guide his hips across your thigh, slow and steady at first.
jisung rolls his hips down, matching his pace with yours. his whines turn into high pitched, breathy moans as he grinds down, still intently suckling on your chest. as you speed up your guidance a little, a whimper slips passed his lips, pulling back from your chest momentarily. his head is resting on your collarbone, eyes barely open as he moans, the volume only increasing as you increase the speed of his hips.
“the neighbours are gonna hear you if you get too loud, babyboy, and we wouldn’t want them hearing your cute sounds, would we?” you ask, voice sweet despite the content of your words. “maybe i should gag you, hm?” you add, not expecting the loud whine and desperate nodding you get from the male on your lap.
a small stain begins forming on the front of his sweatpants, precum leaking from his cock, straining against his boxers; he’s getting close. this only increases the volume of his high-pitched moans, his hands now gripping onto anything that they can find, desperately chasing his high. his head is tossed back, lips parted as your title passes his lip in a broken whine.
“shh, gotta stay quiet, sungie,” you remind, bringing your hand up to his mouth and tapping two fingers along his bottom lip.
jisung instantly gets the message, taking the two digits into his mouth, lips sealing around them instantly like they had with your chest earlier. he sucks on the fingers, tongue swirling around them, effectively quieting his sounds.
you speed his hips up again, the male nearly collapsing against you at the immense pleasure. he’s almost there, his release so close, his cock twitching in his pants. you pull your fingers from his lips, jisung’s sounds and your title filling the room again.
“m-mommy, ‘m so so c-close. w-wanna cum, p-please mommy,” he babbles, tears starting to form in his eyes in desperation.
normally, you might edge him a little, make him wait and take it like the good boy he is but he’s been too good for you to play with him like that. he deserves a reward and you decide to be lenient with him today.
“go ahead, babyboy, you can cum,” you whisper, kissing his forehead and continuing to guide his hips quickly over your thigh.
jisung’s hips stutter and the loudest moan yet leaves his lips, eyes squeezing shut as he cums in his boxers, the stain on the front of his sweatpants growing. his body shudders, broken and breathy thank you’s leaving his lips as he comes down from his high. there’s a thin layer of sweat near his hairline, hot breaths leaving his lips in heavy pants. small whispers of praise leaving your lips as you help him through his orgasm and the aftermath, hands rubbing his sides gently.
the pants slowly turn back into slow breaths, the male curling into you once he’s calmed down a little. his eyelids are starting to droop and tired, incoherent murmurs are slipping passed his lips, a sign that he’s getting tired. you coo at his adorable behaviour, rubbing his back and kissing his temple.
“before you go to sleep, let’s get you cleaned up, okay? don’t want you to fall asleep all sticky,” you whisper, leading him to the bathroom in the apartment.
jisung yawns, tired and nearly about to fall asleep but keeps himself awake for you, loving how gentle you were when you cleaned him up. you grab a soft towel, his favourite one, beginning to wipe away the sweat then helping him change into the shorts and t-shirt he liked to wear to bed.
as you lay in bed, you feel jisung’s limbs begin to tangle with yours, a regular thing for the two of you. you’re about to drift to sleep when you hear jisung’s quiet voice, laced with sleep, call out to you.
“did i do okay?” he asks, nuzzled into your shoulder. jisung wasn’t insecure about your relationship, both in and out of bed, but it always eased his mind when he was reassured.
turning towards him, you cup his cheek, running your thumb over the skin lovingly.
“you were perfect, babyboy”.
#jisung smut#stray kids smut#han jisung smut#jisung x reader#han jisung x reader#sub!idol#sub!skz#sub!jisung#dom!reader#skz smut#jisung hard hours#stray kids hard hours#skz hard hours
488 notes
·
View notes
Note
B D J O V for Donnie, Karl and Alcina? (yes I am in love, no I dont have regrets uwu)
My 3 loves? Well why not! And pls enjoy the ficlet styles I’m going to opt for when doing dirty secrets! This is a little long so is going under the cut.
🩸🍷Alcina Dimitrescu🩸🍷
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and on the other)
A bit of an odd one here but she loves backs, like your actual back. The line of your spine, if you have those back dimples, ufff. She loves the shape of it if you’re on the more curvier side, she loves the skin, and your rolls, and any stretch marks. Just picture that elegant hand of hers ghosting over your back, nails maybe even claws.
On herself, well Alcina is aware of her assets and she’s very aware of her chest, both she’s quite proud of but she’s really proud of her figure over all.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
There was a pretty seamstress in the village who always was brought up to the castle to help with her dresses. She was a pretty thing in Alcina’s eyes, very much her type. When your making or fixing or measuring a tailor made outfit for a 9ft+ woman well it gets tricky and a little more handsy than usual. Alcina didn’t mind, the seamstress didn’t either. It was interesting following simple commands even if they were asked upon her with nothing but grace and poise.
So as Alcina sat for the 40th time to have something around her neck marked to be fixed, she had to stand between her legs to best approach and see the mistake. Only sitting did she have the best chance at seeing her at a more eye to eye level (well as best as it could be).
She isn’t dumb, she knows curiosity, want and lust like the back of her hand. Sees the nervous swallow of the seamstress whenever hands glide across her chest. The whispered ‘pardon my lady’ when she rests a palm on Alcina’s throat and takes a needle to the neckline with all the gentleness she can muster. Of course it’s the moment to prick her finger, the quiet hiss and scent is enough to alert Alcina and without waiting for her to fuss she takes that bleeding digit and kisses it, tastes the bead of blood, all while looking straight at her. When she still sees lust there, oh does she pull her closer.
One of her maids walks in about twenty minutes later, an array of materials in her arms so she doesn’t quite catch how the Lady of the castle smooths her dress and tries not to laugh, chest heaving a little and legs closing a tad. The maid greets her with her usual honorifics before leaving the requested materials, she notices the seamstress isn’t there and arches a brow at the room. “Lavatory” is all Alcina says before the maid makes a question. She nods but feels something isn’t right with the current picture but still leaves.
Once gone.
The seamstress crawls out from under Alcina’s skirt, mouth shiny, hair disheveled and nice set of teeth marks at her bosom.
It becomes a frequent thing after that.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
It’s not to say she needs to because she sincerely feels she has anybody at her beck and call who is willing ready and able. But on the rare occasion she indulges in some self care, it’s mostly in her luxurious tub. Feeling the warm water, her hair clean and smelling of that weeks chosen fragrance, well it gets her thinking and thinking leads desiring and if there isn’t anybody she’ll handle it. Slow, she loves drawing out her own pleasure, loves to feel that rise but stops before it’s too close. She’ll do that, edge herself a little bit more before biting down on her lip to muffle a more particular louder cry.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Both. She lives for giving it and she loves to receive it. She is just, wow, so incredibly good at it, she’s goes about it in such erotic and passionate way and if you’re not looking like you are being possessed by the devil then she up’s her game to make sure that happens. You can squeeze her head with your thighs all you want, she’s built different lol she can handle it. Don’t yank to much on her hair though, claw at her all you want but easy on the do.
She’s had a few inexperienced lovers which she has to guide when they want to go down on her. She’s very particular of what and how she likes it, but she’s patient enough to teach you.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
I’ll do you one better, https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMRSKhUoh/
⚙️Heisenberg⚙️
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and on the other)
https://hagelpaimon.tumblr.com/post/661063110466158592/i-wonder-wonder-who-ill-pick-hesi-baby-a
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) shout out to @imthegreenfairy88 for helping me out with this one.
The first few times he indulged in this he was very adamant in keeping it to himself and to himself only (with time and reassurance he chills out) but the first time he tried doing ‘back door’ stuff on himself he was very surprised about how good it fucking felt and every so often he indulged in it. There’s an occasion where he ends up in bed with some tourist, gun to his head he doesn’t remember their name but he sure fucking remember the blow job and fingering combo that they gave him that had him seeing fucking stars. He tensed up at first was about to say something but they crooked their fingers just right and swallowed his cock at the same time and words were out the window along with thoughts.
He was so far gone that it didn’t cross his mind that when he begged for another finger, he gave himself away and if their eyes weren’t indication of how delighted they had been, feeling two more additional fingers really proved the point.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
I mean I’m saying yea, he has to get creative with it sometimes so as to not get bored, but he picks up a few things he enjoys (he is creative after all) he’s definitely ruined his fair share of pillows, loves rutting into them. He has beat off probably in any section of the factory but shower is better for clean up. He for sure has done it outside of the factory, probably relaxing on a chair and if the weather is nice enough, it’s not like anybody is gonna suddenly drop by. He likes a tight closed fist when he’s close but enjoys a teasing touch to start things off, really enjoys grabbing his balls when he does it. Very messy messy boy when he cums.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
This man blows you like his life depends on it. VERY sloppy but it’s really hot, it’s how eager he is about it and how willing he is to suffocate and or choke on it. He’s told you to sit on his face multiple times at multiple moments of the day. He loves the taste of you, loves feeling suffocated by your thighs. You know what they about big noses too 🥴🥴
As for receiving he likes to dish out what he takes. So expect some rough mouth fucking, he will make you gag, he will make you all teary eyed cause he enjoys it. He’s fine with it without to be honest, he much prefers to be balls deep in you but if you enjoy doing it then expect hip thrusting.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Not super loud, but he isn’t mute. He groans and moans but he’s also a talker so expect a lot dirty talk. His voice drops in a way when he’s fucking you that it makes your toes curl. He’s all breathy pants when he’s close. Lots and lots of cuss words.
👾Donnie💜
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and on the other)
https://hagelpaimon.tumblr.com/post/661063462078889985/b-body-part-their-favourite-body-part-of-theirs
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He likes the taste of his own cum.
He denies it, really denies it, just says it’s his way of cleaning you up after a nice romp but he really has a way of proving the opposite. Donnie has ‘finished’ on you in every way shape or form. On your stomach, back, face etc you name and each time he has cleaned you up he’s either wiped it up and sucked on his fingers or he’s just full blown licked it off of you.
And there is something so disgustingly erotic about that you haven’t or don’t want to call him out on it. You’ve gone down on his multiple times and he very eager to kiss you after your done. One time you purposefully left some on your chin and lips to see if he’d clean it up first but nah, kissed the heck out of you. His favorite is cumin in you and then going down on you. The first time he did that, it was enough to make your toes curl till they cracked and just as you were about to say something he was yanking another orgasm from you. The combined taste of his and yours release? Fuck now that was his favorite.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Does it and does it often. He’s not prudish about it, it’s free oxytocin and for a guy who’s convinced he’s never gonna get a shot at being with somebody physically, might as well practice some self love.
Loves visual stimulation but he’s really into audio stimuli. Likes those audios where he feels he’s there with the person or the ones where they give instructions. Donnie is really into edging and if he’s got the time and privacy he can literally edge himself for a couple of hours. Has at times managed hands free orgasms. Has made cock sleeves or basically fleshlights (ah ingenuity), can have his moments where he’s super slow and teasing about it, light strokes and all that. Can also have moments where he basically fucks his fist to the point of making some pretty obscene wet noises. If listening to audios or watching videos he really loves trying to cum at the same time as the person in the vid or audio. Has a bottle of lotion right on the desk but that shit is so cluttered with stuff that nobody has picked up on it and honestly it’s kinda funny.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
GIVE GIVE GIVE.
Oh my lord is he OBSESSED with giving oral. It’s such a big turn on for him. He just loves how intimate it is, he loves how he’s giving you pleasure in such an intimate position. LOVES over stimulating with his mouth, loves feeling thighs trying to break his head, happy to die down the suffocated in his favorite place, loves feeling a hand at the back of his head and pushing him in further.
He’s not crazy about receiving cause he knows his size is a challenge but he’s not opposed to it, he much rather get a hand job from you.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Loud and not afraid about it. He enjoys the fuck out of it and is going to be vocal about it unless it’s adamant to be quiet because people are around. His churrs are really nice, deep but not as baritone as say Raph’s, but they feel and sound so good.
#tmnt bayverse#re8 village#donnie#heisenberg#alcina dimitrescu#lady d#lady dimitrescu#tmnt Donatello#Karl Heisenberg#lord heisenberg#tmnt Donnie#Donatello#ns*w alphabet#ask#dianounais
106 notes
·
View notes
Note
💬 blurb request for ff!tommy smut?? honestly Chloe your writing is so good, and ff!tommy is my favorite and it would be such a blessing!! ilysm and congrats on 9k!
if you requested ff!tommy smut, I have rolled them all into one. because there was a surprising number, lol. y'all really thirsty for ff!tommy and honestly me too so here we go! I did y'all a little mix of headcanons and blurb, because all the requests were mixed. I tried to include everything from them all!
no more requests, the sleepover is over! I am just filling out all the ones left in my inbox!
okay, so, it's not like y'all haven't done stuff
I mean, he's hot, you're hot, and you're both mad in love
you've just not done that yet
but, it's been busy, and you kinda want it to be perfect
you had a whole weekend away planned, but it got cancelled last minute after another team injury that meant your team took over
and now, there's just a lot of pining
I mean, there's not much left to the imagination
you're no stranger to one another, a few showers and a lot of wandering hands has left you with a pretty solid fill of your imagination
if you really think about it, you can still feel the way cold shower tiles felt against your back as he scissored his fingers
or hear the way he'd groan ringing in your ears still when you'd go down on him before work
just to smirk all morning as it takes him hours to actually clean his head after a mind-blowing orgasm
not to mention the way your throat had been fucking sore after he'd gone down on you, a pillow over your face just to stop complaints from your neighbours
but you wanted more
you wanted to feel connected to him in that way, because there was only so much foreplay could do
and you were fucking needy
he'd whispered a lot of dirty promises in your ear about what he was gonna' give you, and you were waiting for him to deliver
this time was no exception
stumbling through the front door of your place
a pretty dress on a hook and a suit next to it, both still in their protective covers, waiting to go
steam from the bathroom was pouring out from under the door, and you whimpering embarrassingly as his fingers rubbed slowly across your clit, sucking marks into the skin of your chest where he knew your hemlines would cover
"tommy, please.."
"please, what, angel? tell me what you want?"
it had been a chaotic shift, a lot of adrenaline, and he'd smelled of smoke and been a little sweaty and dirty and he was pretty much entirely what wet dreams were made of
you'd been dripping since you'd gotten back to the station, and uncomfortable ever since
with your back pressed up to the counter, hair still dripping wet much like his own from the shower you'd recently taken, you let out another cry of his name
tracing your fingers over his chest, he twitched a little as you dragged your fingers over his nipples, and down, several spaces marked with raised pink skin, scars of all his saves, dotted between dark hairs along his chest and to his defined abs
"more, tommy, please.."
he grinned, head raising back up to capture your lips, and his fingers slid along slick folds
two slender digits easily slipping between your walls, pumping at the best speed he could manage from the angle
despite the relief, he wouldn't be enough
"no, more, like, I need you to fuck me, tommy."
"we don't have time, we'll be late for newt's birthday pa-"
"so we're late, newt'll understand. if I have to spend the whole night staring at you in that tight fucking suit, looking so fucking good I could pop, I won't make it, thomas. you hear me? 'might just die."
"you're gonna' die if I don't fuck you?" he'd tease, but slip his fingers free, raising them to his lips to lick them clean, and that fucking filthy look he'd get would take over his face. "well, I can't let that happen. I'd better fuck you real good, just to keep you in top shape."
"I think that's a good idea." You whispered, hands hooking underneath your thighs, fingers of one hand still wet as he lifted you, and your legs sealed around his waist. Only a second later, your back was meeting the bedding, stray droplets soaking into the fabric, and his body was following quickly after you. Kneeling before you don't he bedding, he was stretched out in all his glory, hard and toned muscle, dark hair trailing down from his pecs, and his cock tall and leaking, red at the tip in a way that made your thighs clench when he bobbed in the air.
Large hands pushed your knees apart again, letting out a harsh breath as he stared at you, gaze trailing up from your slick core to find you, propped up on your elbows. "You got no idea what you do to me, angel. Fuckin' hell."
"Think I got a pretty good idea." You whispered, red flush growing from his neck to his cheeks, but he gave you a cheeky wink nonetheless. Leaning down again, his lips found yours, a delicate kiss, and you bit gently on his lower lip, that deep and raspy moan you loved shaking along your body when he emitted it.
"You sure you wanna' do this? Want it to be perfect for you. Wanna' take you apart, piece by piece, make you mine."
"We have all night for that once we get home, you can make love to me, but right now, I just need you, Tommy. Been waiting too long." He groaned, your nails scraping over his chest, before your fingers were wrapping around his cock, his hips bucking into your hands.
"Well, if that's how we're gonna' do it, then flip over, hands and knees for me." The request jolted something filthy though you, and you did as told, turning over, before two large hands were palming at your ass. "D'you even know how good your ass looks in, like, everything? Fucking hell, if you weren't wearing heels tonight, I'd fuck you 'til you couldn't even walk. Maybe next time."
Lining himself up and sinking within your walls, your eyes were rolling back in your head. Thomas was by no means small, a voice in the back of your mind that was quickly silenced taunting you about comments once made, and the warmth of his chest covered your back as he leaned over you. Pressing several kisses along your spine, he gave you a moment to adjust, and you wiggled your hips against him.
Calloused hands were on your hips, holding so tightly you thought he might bruise, and he pulled back. One sharp thrust of his hips and he was sinking back into you, stretching you out all over again with a delicious kind of friction that made your jaw drop.
He repeated his actions, again and again, and you were sure you'd be getting noise complaints now, because you couldn't control yourself. His hands were everywhere, pulling your hair and rubbing soothingly over your body, every inch of skin being touched, and you were seeing stars. His voice was echoing in your ears, praises and groans, mumbles about how good you felt, like he wasn't making you see heaven with every thrust.
You could barely breathe, the building fire, the coil getting tighter and tighter, and when you finally snapped, it was with a few brief brushes of his fingers over your swollen clit. Your heart was beating so fast you couldn't barely feel it, but it felt like time stopped, groans and begs and the kind of grunts that only prolonged your own orgasm as Thomas came, pumps of searing warmth, until you were collapsing back into the bed together.
He rolled over, freeing himself from you to stare at the ceiling, and you copied him, panting for breath, and feeling like you were on fire. "Holy shit, that was incredible."
"I can't believe we waited so long for that, I don't know how I lived without it." He mumbled, head turning to face you on the pillow, and his body soon followed. Two fingers on one side of your jaw and his thumb on the other, he pulled you closer, leaving a passionate kiss on your lips. "You sure we have to go to the party? We should just stay here all night, and do that. In fact, we should quit our jobs, Just stay right here, fucking."
"How would we make money to eat?" You teased, and a cheeky look passed over his face.
"I don't know about you, but I've got everything I need to eat right here."
"Oh, you're so bad." You mumbled, pushing his face away from you when he let out a loud laugh, and you tried to scoot towards the edge of the bed. "What happened to waiting 'til after the party before fucking me until I couldn't walk, huh?"
Your legs were wobbly as you stood, wandering back towards the bathroom, and he propped a hand under his head, smirking as he watched you go. "Oh, you ain't had nothin' yet, angel. Just you wait 'til we get back."
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Blanc Slate, Chapter 9
<Previous Next >
25. Study
They didn’t meet in the bars of the Eiffel Tower, which might have been for the best. Ladybug couldn’t help but recall that day in the rain he’d first appeared to her, his suit whiter than snow, and almost completely cut her from his life. No matter how much she tried to cling to the hope Chat had changed, part of her still worried he would try to do that.
When she landed in the back alley they agreed to meet up in, she caught sight of her partner, collapsed on the ground and leaning against a building. His head was propped up, facing the moon and highlighting the paleness of his skin. For a moment, she studied her partner, taking in everything from his posture to his expression to even the finest details of how handsome he still looked to her despite his clear exhaustion.
Eventually, his eyes opened, and that hazy green gaze of his landed on her. With a fortifying breath, he heaved himself up from his spot, but he didn’t move any closer to her. Instead, he stood an arm’s length from the wall, likely to catch himself if his shaky balance was any indication.
“Hey,” was all she managed to say. She could have kicked herself because she had so many more things she wanted to say, but when it came down to it, it all died on her tongue.
“Hey,” he responded. He then held out a large, brown book to her. “Here.”
She blinked a few times as she looked at the book in his hands, her mind slowly catching up as she realized where she’d seen the cover before. “Is this…?”
“It contains all kinds of information about the miraculous,” Chat said. “Hawkmoth had it, but then I learned Mayura stole it, so I had to hunt it down. Which was why it took me so long to get this book for you.”
She stared at the book, stunned. Master Fu had given her the digital files he’d had when he transferred the guardian task over to her. But she realized Chat hadn’t known that, hence why he’d gone hunting for this. “Chat…”
“Here,” he said, waving the book out and expecting her to take it.
So she did, grabbing the familiar tome carefully.
“All I can hope for is that you’ll be able to find the information you need in that thing to fix what I broke,” he said, ears falling in guilt as his hand fell away, dropping the book completely into her hands. “I’m sorry; I’m leaving you to clean up this mess, but I can’t keep this ring any longer, and you know why.”
He then grabbed hold of his miraculous, ready to pull it off. “I know you always made a fuss about identities,” he continued. “So whether you want to know—”
“I want to know,” she cut in instinctually. “I… I know what I used to say, so I know this is really hypocritical of me, but… but now, I really do want to know. Because I want to keep in contact with you, Chat. I… it would hurt too much to just let you go.”
Pain flashed through his eyes at her words. With a sigh, he hung his head, his hands falling and bracing on his hips. For that moment, Ladybug could feel just how exhausted he was.
“Geez,” he spat. “I ask you that question for years, and the one time I hope you won’t press, you go on and decide to.”
“I know,” she said. “Trust me; I know. But things changed. Hawkmoth is gone, there aren’t any more threats, and if I’m left to chose between protecting identities or giving you up, then there’s only one answer to that.”
Chat quirked a brow at her before shaking his head. “When you phrase it like that, the answer really is obvious.”
“Glad you realize that much,” she said, her smile so weak it barely lasted two seconds.
He sighed, running his hand roughly through his hair. “Fine,” he said. “So be it. I won’t fight you.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.
But she found herself breathless again when Chat looked back up at her, his eyes glassy. “We’ll continue this conversation later, but for now, Ladybug, I beg of you, just… leave me be for a month, at least. Then you can hunt me down and hound me and whatever. I just… can’t deal with this now. Please.”
Her heart shattered, not because of his words, but because her cat was so thoroughly and completely broken. He wasn’t even pushing her away anymore. He was tired and confused and struggling to come to terms with so many things, some of which not even Ladybug could guess. However, he wasn’t cutting her out completely, so she could give him space.
But not at this moment.
Without thinking, she stepped forward and took her cat in her arms, hugging him tightly and holding him close. “Then just let me have this moment,” she said. “I’m okay with giving you space after this. Just know I want to be here for you, kitty. In any way you’ll let me”
He’d frozen the second she wrapped her arms around him, but gradually, he relaxed, his chin coming to rest on top of her head as he began leaning into her embrace until she realized she was now the only thing keeping him upright.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s okay,” she whispered back, bracing herself so she could support him. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
He took a shaky breath. Then another. And Ladybug didn’t let go, letting him take his time and relishing any time he gave her.
“Claws in.”
His voice broke the long silence as a flash of green lit the alleyway. That’s when she realized she was no longer holding Chat Noir, but rather the boy behind that mask. And with their current position, she couldn’t even see him.
Still, she didn’t move. And she wouldn’t until he was ready to let her go. Because first and foremost, even before being his partner, she was his support.
Quite literally.
26. Reverse Crush
After a moment, Chat, er… the man who was Chat shifted his footing so as to stand on his own two feet. Ladybug continued to hold him steady until she felt he was standing without her assistance before she took a half-step back.
“Sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough with exhaustion.
“It’s o—”
She did not get to finish her ‘okay’, because she was now able to look up at the man she’d called her partner for years. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d be stunned speechless by his face.
But… here she was. Because it was a face all too familiar to her.
“Adrien?”
A weak half-smile ticked up the corners of his lips. “Yeah,” he mumbled, voice dejected for some reason she couldn’t quite fathom. “That’s me. Perfect poster boy of Paris.”
Oh… she supposed he was. He was one of Paris’s most prolific models, up until the downfall of his father.
Shit. His father…
Her mind was positively reeling with all the new information as she rapidly put pieces of information together. Ladybug’s vision blurred as tears began dripping from her eyes. Because in the end, the one thing her mind still clung to above all else was he wasn’t just Chat anymore; he was Adrien. He was her friend both in and out of the suit. And for the past two months, she’d watched him suffer and struggle trying to balance the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“How the hell are you still standing?”
That… was not what she’d wanted to say.
He quirked a brow. “What?”
All her earlier prepared speeches were no longer relevant or even able to be remembered at this point. And no other words seemed to be coming to her. Adrien was still waiting for an answer, and finally, after swiping the tears off her face, she figured out how to give him one. “Spots off.”
In a flash of pink, she turned to Marinette. Never did either of their gazes leave the other, Marinette intent on watching Adrien’s expression while she was sure Adrien just didn’t have the thought to look away. Now, she was watching as confusion and shock played out on his face.
And when he stumbled backwards, she reached for him best she could.
She only partly stopped his fall, Adrien having mostly caught himself against the wall. Still, he slid down to the ground, basically unable to hold himself up, and Marinette, in helping him down, found herself half-way on top of him.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, running his hands down his face before peeking back at her through is fingers.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing or a ‘you don’t know how to process this’ thing?” she asked, her heart racing a mile a minute. “Because I’m kinda somewhere between the first and last myself.”
She didn’t get an answer. Instead, Adrien slung his arms around her, pulling her close and clinging to her like his lifeline.
She sighed, tension leaving her body in an instant as a relieved smile spread across her face. “Okay. I’m okay with this.”
“Last one.”
“Huh? Oh,” she said, taking a moment to realize what he meant. “Then take all the time you need. I don’t have a second boy to worry about anymore; I’ve just got one that’s been giving me two sets of heart attacks. So feel free to hog my night.”
A weak chuckle rolled through him. Marinette gladly took that win.
“Well,” she continued, settling into his embrace while she embraced him back. “Guess I know why you were pushing Marinette to stay with Adrien. You could have just asked me as Adrien, though.”
He shrugged. “I… realized I really wanted you there. I just… didn’t know how to say it.”
“You could have told me outright.”
“It sounded too selfish.”
“Never.”
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“Chat could have also asked Ladybug for the same,” Marinette added. “In fact, I wanted Chat to ask me.”
“It now makes sense why you were doing that,” he muttered, burying his face in her shoulder. “Pushing me to meet with you.”
“I thought you loved Ladybug.”
“I did,” he answered. “And I do.”
“So you were pushing her away because you didn’t want her hurt? Because you have a tendency to take everything on your own shoulders?”
He shrugged, but Marinette knew it was because he was reluctant to admit she was right.
“So what made Marinette different?” she asked. “That you would choose her over Ladybug.”
There was a long pause, and for a moment, she was worried he wouldn’t answer. “Well…” he finally admitted. “The little spitfire wouldn’t leave me the hell alone, and she kinda grew on me.” He squeezed her tighter. “But, I’m really glad she did.”
I am, too. “So you would have given up the love of your life for a girl you didn’t love but who forced herself into your life?”
“I tried pushing you away, too,” he said. “But you wouldn’t let me do that. And then… I guess after a while, you just… I don’t know, wore me down enough where I couldn’t push you away anymore.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “Even if I was being annoying.”
He huffed.
“Now, I guess the real question is: is Chat going to push Ladybug away, too?”
He paused, lifting his head up off her shoulder so he could look at her properly. Before he could even speak, Marinette was able to relax upon taking in the sincere expression he was wearing. “No,” he said. “He won’t.”
Relief flooded her, and an exhaustion she could not have predicted hit her like a truck. She snuggled back into his chest, happy to hold him and be held by him, even if it was in some dark, dingy, moonlit back alley. “I’m really glad to hear that."
27. Singing
They ended up back at Adrien’s place. In the end, Marinette did take the ring from him. Of course, she hadn’t wanted to. Not in the slightest. But when it came down to the fact that his ring was making him sick, she also didn’t want to leave it with him a moment more. She’d figure out how to fix it later, planning to ask Tikki for help as well as scour that book for any clues.
But at the moment, she was more concerned getting her partner to bed. Starting tonight, she would nurse him back to health, and there was nothing he could do to prevent her from doing that.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem apt to oppose.
Upon crashing down into his bed, Adrien reached a hand out for her. She couldn’t help but smile, settling down next to him and letting him wrap an arm around her.
“You got very needy,” she teased, thinking about how only a couple months ago, he had been completely adamant about cutting her out of his life. It was quite the change, but Marinette wasn’t complaining.
He just grunted, burying his head in her shoulder.
Giggling, Marinette began stroking his hair, absently humming a happy tune.
“You have a pretty voice,” he muttered.
“It’s the closest to a purr I have,” she shot back.
He hummed. “Now I know why you always made me purr against my will.”
She scoffed, amused. “When was it ever against your will?”
His silence was enough of an answer.
For now, she let it go, going back to her singing and continuing to do so until she felt his deep, steady breathing indicate he was asleep.
She smiled but didn’t stop stroking his hair. “My good kitty,” she murmured, her heart finally able to settle calmly for the first time in ages. He was back where he belonged: by her side.
Actually, he was closer than that but still perfectly in place. And Marinette wouldn’t have it any other way.
#just finish it#miraculous ladybug#marichatmay2021#This story has just devolved into and I'm sorry if it's a mess
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quarter-Century
Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mild heavy petting, but this is pretty tame, oh & lots of fluff, likely enough to kill someone, so watch out for that, k?
What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do.
Words: 3754
Notes: if i call this a drabble are y’all gonna get mad at me?
Quarter-Century
quar·ter-cen·tu·ry
/ˈkwôrdər/ - /ˈsen(t)SH(ə)rē/
noun
a period of 25 years
Twenty-five.
It’s always spoken about like it’s some kind of milestone. Eh, it’s just another year, Kiyoomi thinks, tugging his sweaty shirt off of his back and walking toward the MSBY team dressing room, there’s nothing special about it.
He’d woken up at 5:25, taken his first shower, kissed your sleeping form absentmindedly on the cheek before he left the bedroom, and jogged the three miles to the training facility.
He’d worked on his digs, on his jump float, and looked over the drills. The team had two practice games and had huddled up for the review at the end, the same as always. As Kiyoomi made his way out of the locker room Atsumu and Bokuto had both clapped him on the back, joking about the fleeting joys of ‘youth,’ and congratulating him on his performance on the court before they all went their separate ways, each gliding along their own trajectory.
No, there’s nothing special about birthdays.
You’re not back from work when he gets home, so Kiyoomi pads around the empty apartment, flitting from room to room, disjointedly flipping on lights and switching them back off seconds later. It’s like he can’t make up his mind. Should he take a nap? He could sleep off these uncharacteristic and frustrating jitters that keep coursing through him. No, he reconsiders naps just make him groggy and irritable. What else?
He’s showered twice today, there’s no need for another, and it looks like you’d cleaned up the living room and kitchen before you’d left for the day, so there’s nothing for him to clean either. Ugh, what’s with this restlessness?
There are old matches that he can watch, already primed and loaded onto his laptop, but it’s charging in the bedroom, likely tucked under some of your leaflets and various heapings of paperwork. It’d be a pain to move everything.
Eh, he could start a puzzle, maybe flip through some channels, see what’s on TV, and there’s that book that you’d told him he should check out, he’s weeks behind on starting that, but it’s in the bedroom too, and–
Damn it. It feels like he’s stuck in some kind of loop.
He flops down on the couch, tipping his dark head back, obsidian curls fanning around his forehead as he stares up at the ceiling. What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do. He smiles at that thought, running his hands through his hair and letting out a deep exhale. It’ll be alright, he reasons, you’ll get back and he’ll shake himself out of this funk, and then maybe he can–
The sudden scrape of the lock turning makes him jump, and he pops his head up just as you step through the door, a smattering of canvas bags tucked under your coiled hands. You spot him as you tap the door closed, a broad grin lighting up your face. “Hey there!” you call out, stepping toward the kitchen to deposit your purchases. “Did you just get home? Practice go okay?”
“It went well,” Kiyoomi replies, hunching forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That reminds me, the next match is this weekend, you still planning on going?”
“Yeah!” you confirm, tucking a few things into the fridge before you pace over to his seated figure. “It’s right before the playoffs start, so it’ll likely be one of the last ones I can get a good seat to. Once you guys get in those end of season bouts it gets...Hey, you sure you’re alright? You look a little, I don’t know, downcast?” You kneel in front of him, your hands reaching, stroking gently over his hair and down his jaw.
“I’m fine. Feel a little...off...is all. Happens.”
“Off?” you question, bright eyes finally catching his onyx. “Well, we can’t have that. Not today!”
“Hmph, it’s just a Saturday,” Kiyoomi huffs, catching your wrists and lowering your hands from his face.
“Yes,” you continue, watching as he distractedly toys with your hands, trailing his thumbs over your fingers and flipping your palms this way and that within his hold. “It’s also a Saturday where I’ve played the role of good– no great, girlfriend and got us some tickets! Surprise!”
“Tickets?” he echoes, his head cocking to the side as he lifts his gaze back to yours. “To what? If it’s some kinda concert, not to be an ass, but I don’t really want to go to a–”
“Really?” you deadpan, arching an eyebrow at his morose expression. “You think, after two years of dating, that I’d take you to a concert? You? Kiyoomi Sakusa, the man who is pretty much allergic to crowds, who completely dipped out of a shoe store once because there were five people in the ‘athletic wear’ section, who abhors the mere thought of tight spaces and groups of twenty or more, thought that I, his loving partner, decided to put some some color into his living nightmares, and on his birthday no less, by bringing him to a concert?”
Kiyoomi clicks his tongue and exhales a tight laugh. “When you put it that way, no. But on the off chance that you did, and you’re trying to bluff your way out of the situation by over elaborating your reasons for not bringing me, well…I’m gonna have to decline the gift.”
You narrow your eyes at his impassive face and purse your lips. “And to think, I was gonna come over here and give you a kiss and everything.”
“You’ll still give me one,” Kiyoomi smarts, a coquettish smirk lifting his lips when you openly scoff at him. “So, out with it, what are the tickets to?”
“Oh? Now you wanna know? Suddenly you’re curious. Well you can hold on to that buddy, cuz’ I’m not gonna tell you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Why should I?”
“It’s my birthday,” he intones simply, broad palms already sliding up your arms, pulling you closer. You smell nice, Kiyoomi thinks, lips barely missing your own as you twist playfully away from him.
“Pfft, what happened to ‘it’s just a Saturday?’” you tease, following his insistent tugs, one knee pressing down into the cushions of the couch as you lower yourself over his lap.
“Changed my mind,” Kiyoomi states, finally catching you and caressing his lips sinfully against yours. “I’m allowed to do that,” he continues, sucking a rasp from you as he drags his sharp teeth across the plush swell of your lower lip. “Mmm, you might have gotten a little distracted, so let me repeat my question: what are the tickets to?”
He is genuinely interested; he wants to know what you’ve planned for the two of you, but his hands have already started that downward journey, long digits stroking over the curves that flow down your side, cupping and pulling just the way you like. Your knees lift when he buries his fingertips into the flesh of your upper thighs and you sigh, breath warm against his flushed cheeks.
Actually, this is fine. After all, he’s good at this. He’s had plenty of time to learn you, to practice, and he loves that he knows just what to do to make you quake between his heated palms. But when he jerks you closer, your lips slip from his and you’re careful to brace yourself away, momentarily safe from his distracting caresses.
“Baseball,” you pant, hands resting over the hard plane of his pectorals.
“Huh?” he queries, heavy brows furrowing, wholly distracted by the rise and fall of your uneven breaths and the gentle twitch of your spread legs against his hips.
“A baseball game. I got us tickets to a baseball game.”
“It’s smaller than what I was picturing,” Kiyoomi says, adjusting the placement of his mask before looking down at you. “And what are you gonna do with that bag? Can you even take that in here?”
You laugh at his question, hoisting the thick strap of your insulated pack higher on your shoulder. “It’s the Yomiuri Giants, they’re part of the minor league so it’s a smaller stadium and don’t worry, they let you bring coolers and snacks in.”
“Eh? Snacks? Don’t they have concessions? Seems counter-productive if they let you bring your own food. How are they supposed to make money? Atsumu said that half of our vendors make a good deal of their revenue from their booths during the playoffs and the regular season. So I don’t see how that’s practical. What do you have in there, anyway? It looks heavy. Oh. Did you want me to carry it?”
“I’m not sure which one of those I should answer first,” you grin, dodging his extended hand and stepping forward. “Come on, I think we can head in now.”
The seats are located in the shade of the upper deck, right behind the third base, giving you both a perfect bird's-eye view of the action that will take place down on the field below. True to your word, the ticket inspectors had let you and your pack pass through without a word of protest, and as he flipped down his plastic seat, you carefully tucked the thick canvas between the two of you.
“What’s in it?” he asked again, peering over your shoulder as you unzipped the long teeth and reached into the dark depths, hands searching for something.
“You’ll see,” you promise, leaning back once you found your prize, a small bottle of hand sanitizer. You pop the lid up and nod for his palms, carefully pressing some of the clear antiseptic onto his hands. “Game should start soon,” you inform, repeating the cleaning process yourself before closing the top and tossing the bottle back into the bag. “And I wanna make sure you’re set before I head down to the concession stands.”
“So it’s food,” he determines, slipping his mask off of his face, tucking it under his chin, an appreciative smile winding its way up his lips.
“Of course it is! You think I’d leave you to languish for 9 innings while I sit beside you, gorging myself on the delicious food they sell at the concessions, which you refuse to eat? Alas, not even I am that cruel. Nah, I brought something that I hope you’ll like.”
“I’ll like it,” Kiyoomi replies, resting his muscled shoulder against yours, watching as you arrange a few clear sets of Tupperware in your hands, lifting them evenly out of the bag.
“Careful,” you jab, tossing him a mischievous grin. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Kiyoomi shrugs. “It’s from you; I’ll like it.”
Your hands still after his declaration and you twist your head back to him, eyes wide, searching his placid expression. “Okay,” you laugh, setting the Tupperware aside, fully turning to him and wrapping an arm around his neck, your other hand cupping his cheek, pulling him down to your seeking lips. “That was too much. There some sort of class you stoic types take? How to make others swoon in five lessons, or less?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, prying your hands from him. “It’s true. No need to make a big deal about it. You put a lot of effort into today, and I...I just think that...I mean...thanks,” he finishes lamely, dark eyes balefully avoiding yours. You chuckle again and reward him with another peck to his cheek.
“So cute.”
“Stop it,” he grumbles, a faint blush staining his cheeks. “Weren’t you gonna show me something? Better hurry. After all, there’s still time for me to mess it up.”
“What does that mean?” you puzzle, pulling away.
“I dunno. I always say the wrong shit. You know that.”
“Well,” you ponder, tapping a finger against your chin. “We’re at a baseball game, so, in the spirit of the sport, why don’t I give you three strikes?”
“Just three? I mean, wow, that’s so generous of you.”
You flash him a quick glare, tutting your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Oooh, swing and a miss. Strike one!”
He’s just about to give you some retort when you press two of the containers into his hands. The heat of the plastic feels nice against his calloused palms, and he can see the fresh steam that surrounds the food that’s waiting inside. “Onigiri?” he questions, popping the lid, mouth watering at the sight of all of that pristine rice. Damn, when did you have time to make these?
“Homemade onigiri with pickled plums,” you inform him, a gleeful smile lighting up your face, pleased that he’s already reaching for one, a look of genuine happiness falling over his usually impassive expression.
“You remembered,” he murmurs, picking up the carefully shaped ball and lifting it to his lips. He bites into the fluffy rice, fastidiously letting the flavors fall over his tongue and across his pallet. It’s perfect, he thinks as he chews, just the right amount of pickled savoriness and clean, delicate grains. Damn, when did you do all of this?
You let him finish the first onigiri before you pass him a can of beer. It’s chilled, likely sitting toward the bottom of the bag, and he flicks a stray chip of ice off of the rim. A sealed can of beer, a carefully packed meal. Is there anything you haven’t thought of?
He’s just about to turn, to tell you that...well, he’s not sure what exactly. Maybe it is something about how lucky he is. How he’s somehow stumbled into something so sublime, so wonderful, as you, and how he should tell you that more, when you stand.
“I’m going to hop down to the food stands. Inning should open up any minute. I’m glad this is an off season game, we’ve pretty much got this whole deck to ourselves! Be right back, ‘kay?”
He nods, eyes lingering on your hands, your smile, your eyes, just everything that he can see that’s you, but he doesn’t speak. He can’t. What’s he gonna say? Don’t go? Stay here. He’ll go down.
He’ll do whatever you want; anything for you, anything.
You tilt your head at his stony, almost stricken expression, but you don’t comment on it, content with tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear before you spring up the steps, stepping away from his overwhelmed and utterly entranced form.
Damn.
He’s scrolling through his phone when the 1st inning ends, thumb whisking over the lists of required paperwork, the $50 dollar notarial fee, the Kon-in Todoke, mentally counting up the required signatures, the necessary witnesses. This is crazy, he thinks, skimming over the U.S. Embassy & Consulate regulations on the ‘Affidavit of Competency to Marry’ in Japan, he hasn’t even talked with you about this, but he’s honestly never felt more sure of anything in his life.
Right as he flips to a secondary tab, one that holds a few jewelry stores and ideas about ‘how to pop the question,’ he catches sight of you. You slide down the row of empty seats, your hands filled with various snacks and a tall glass of foaming beer.
“Sorry! Wasn’t expecting to take that long, I completely missed the 1st inning! Good thing no one scored. Hopefully things will liven up with the 2nd and 3rd innings.” You settle in beside him, setting your beer against the cold concrete before jostling your popcorn and hot dog to your opposite hand, eyes peering over the brightly lit field.
Kiyoomi bites back his grin and switches his phone off, obscuring the glittering pixels of diamonds and his future plans from view and tucks his device into his jacket pocket. You turn to look at him, your eyes narrowing and brow arching at his poorly controlled attempts to hide his giddiness.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he replies, slinging a long arm around your shoulders, tugging you close and planting a quick kiss against your temple.
“Liar,” you accuse, leaning back, eyes following the sharp angles of his handsome face.
“What made you pick baseball? You feeling homesick or something?”
“Hmph, no! I just...hmm, how to put this. I figured it’d be nice to take you to a game that’s not volleyball. One that we can just watch. There’s no need to worry about analyzing anyone’s performance, or your own here…you can just relax.”
Kiyoomi cocks his head at you, a few errant curls falling over his brow. “Do I do that when we go to a volleyball game?”
You nearly choke on your beer. “Mmm...koff...do you do that? Did you seriously just ask me that?”
“Yeah,” he affirms, obsidian eyes watching you closely. Wait, is he a pain to go to a game with?
“Kiyoomi?”
“Hmm.”
“I wasn’t about to take you to a volleyball game for your birthday. That’d be like you taking me back to the office and asking me to celebrate with you in the staff break room. I mean, I know you love the sport, but it’s your job. It’s what you do all day. Besides, the last time we went to a match I don’t think you said more than five words to me and you were constantly writing down the plays on your phone. I–Oh! That’s not a bad thing, not at all! It makes sense,” you amend, catching sight of his abruptly ashen expression.
“It’s just...you’re good...no good doesn’t cut it...you’re amazing at what you do. You’ve got that hunger that all the sports documentaries I’ve ever watched talk about and you’re constantly looking to improve. It’s impressive, really! But...I just thought this might be a change of pace. Something that we could both go to, could watch, with no additional stakes. Who cares who wins? I mean, I want the home team to, obviously, but we can leave here when it’s over and just take memories, not more worries or challenges. And definitely not any notes. Sorry, that prolly’ sounds so rude, but I really want you to relax today. You more than deserve it.”
“It’s perfect,” Kiyoomi confirms, finally leaning back against the strong plastic of his seat, pulling you closer, bringing his knee toward your thigh, pressing until he can feel the heat of you past the material of his jeans. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” you laugh. “It’s the least I could do. If you’re happy, then I’m happy! Oh! Speaking of, you gotta try this beer! It’s so good!”
He looks skeptically down at the plastic glass that’s still clutched between your fingers. “No. I’m not drinking out of that cup.”
“Kiyoomi,” you begin, fixing him with a hard stare. “You know we live together, right? If I pick anything up from this, then, and I hate to tell you this, but you’ll get it too, eventually.”
With a scoffed exhale and a curl of his lip he leans away from you, nose wrinkling distastefully at your threat.
“Come on,” you taunt, shaking the cup playfully in your hand, “You won’t regret it!”
“No.”
“Ugh, you’re no fun, you know that?”
“Never heard that before,” he laughs, coiling himself toward you, his arm around your back, squeezing you closer, holding on as tight as he can.
It’s dark when the two of you get back home, but you won’t let him flip on the overhead lights, not yet. “Just wait, gimme a sec. There’s one more thing I wanna do...why don’t you go sit on the couch. I’ll turn on the lamp and be right back, promise.”
Obediently, he perches on the edge of the cushions and waits.
He can hear you as you move around the kitchen, and he feels like he can still feel the warmth of your skin under his fingertips. Throughout the game, on the cab ride home, as he stood behind you in the darkened hallway, waiting for you to unlock the door, he’d kept his hands on you. It was like you were some kind of magnet and he couldn’t help but be tugged forward by your irresistible pull.
“Hey! Close your eyes!” you call, feet soft against the wood as you pad back to him. He shakes his head at your request, a faint smile pulling at his lips, but he obliges you. How can he not? “No peeking,” you warn, and he it’s like he can almost feel you again as you come to stand in front of him once more. “Alright…I think that’s good. Now...open them!”
The space in front of him is bathed in a soft glow, with whisking yellows and gentle oranges dancing, flickering across your arms. The light from the candle illuminates your face, catching against your eyes and making them shine, and he’s honestly not sure if he’s breathing anymore.
“I know it’s not much,” you justify, cupping your fingers around the delicate flame and lifting the cupcake toward him. “But I learned my lesson last year. Got you that huge cake and the leftovers languished in the fridge for almost a week. And you know what they say, less is more, right?”
Without thinking, his hands race forward, gripping your waist and pulling you closer. “Woah,” you exhale, a laugh bubbling from your lips. “Careful! I don’t wanna catch you on fire. Some birthday that would be. Come on, time’s a’wasting birthday boy, blow it out and make a wish!”
He’d lied earlier.
When he’d thought that there was nothing special about birthdays. There is something special about this birthday and, for the first time, he knows just what he’s going to wish for.
It’s easy to blow out the light. It’s a little harder to protect the cupcake from his downward tug, his hands insistent, firm, but somehow you safely tuck it behind you and twist back to him, fingers lacing into his onyx curls.
“What did you wish for?” you ask, settling yourself across his lap.
“Can’t tell you yet,” Kiyoomi answers honestly, lips already seeking yours.
“Huh? You’re not supposed to tell me at all!”
“Too bad,” he intones, silencing any further retorts with the heady persuasion of his caresses and wandering touch. “I’m gonna tell you soon. Now let me enjoy you.”
notes: hbd! shoutout to @albinoburrito for her excellent edits and suggestions :*
#hbd sakusa 🧁#sakusa kiyoomi#kiyoomi sakusa#hq!!#hq#hq imagines#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#sakusa x y/n#sakusa x reader#sakusa x you#kiyoomi x reader#kiyoomi x you#kiyoomi x y/n#drabble#sort of???#whatever#it's a drabble
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s You and Me - Chapter 3
It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic
Series Masterlist
PREVIOUS //
Buy me a ☕
Character Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader
Word Count: 1770
Rating: E
Warnings: Injuries, blood, smut (MF, vaginal sex)
Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back. Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you. For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.
When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.
Fifteen years later he tracks you down. Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father. Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?
A series told in flashbacks and current day.
Chapter 3: Now
You sat on the vanity with your shirt off while Clint patched up your arm. It was no surprise he was so deft at dealing with puncture wounds. Clint was extremely talented with the bow, but also a bit of a klutz. He always had been, so getting stabbed by his own arrows wasn’t that uncommon. As a result, he knew this particular wound and had done a good job patching you up. The wound had been cleaned and treated. The blood flow eased and he was just finishing up the dressings.
He tore the last piece of tape from the dressing and patted it in place. “That should do it. Thankfully it looked clean,” he said.
“I’m sure it will be fine. It's not the first time one of her snakes has bitten me,” you said, with a shrug.
Clint chuckled. “Well, same.”
You both laughed and he patted your thigh. “Thanks for helping me,” he said. “I know that really put you out on a line. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, well,” you said with a shrug. “What can I say, when it comes to you, I’m a soft touch.”
Clint chuckled. “That's not how I remember it.”
You laughed gently and reached forward, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his pants and drew him closer to you. He seemed to move too slow and you began to think he might not actually want this. That he might not want you.
He tilted his head, leaned in, hesitated for a moment, then cradled your jaw and kissed you. You kissed back passionately, wrapping your legs around his waist and drawing him closer to you. He started to grind against you, holding you against him as he pushed you back against the mirror. You moaned into his lips and bunched your hands into his hair. You had missed this so much. The desperate need and passion, along with the way he tried to keep you on the right path while he danced on and off his own.
His fingers deftly unfastened your bra and you tossed it aside as he kissed down your neck to your breasts. You let your head fall back against the glass and closed your eyes as you just enjoyed the feel of his mouth on you. His cock hardened in his pants as he ground against you and it added to that delicious friction against your cunt. Your traced your fingers down his back, those familiar muscles only hardened and developed with time.
Clint’s mouth returned to yours and he guided you down off the sink and pushed your pants down. You stepped out of the fabric and let him guide you using the hunger of your kiss into the bedroom. You were backed against the wall and you wrapped a leg around his waist grinding against his cock. “Fuck, Clint,” you gasped, as you hastily unbuckled his pants.
He chuckled and pushed them down looking over at his bed where his one-eyed golden retriever sat. “Lucky, get down,” he said.
The dog wagged his tail and for a moment you didn’t think he was going to move but he jumped down and moved to the dog bed in the corner. You pushed Clint back onto the bed. Clint groaned and pulled you down on top of him. You rolled your hips, your cunt dripping and soaking through your panties. Clint rutted up against you, the only thing separating his sex from yours was the thing cotton of his boxer shorts and the lace of your panties.
He rolled you over and pushed down his boxers as you wriggled out of your panties. A lightheaded, breathless feeling was setting in, yet you still would not break the kiss. The heat of his skin against yours and the tingling in your lips was addictive, and you didn’t want to break it for anything.
Clint reached over to his bedside table and fumbled for a condom. As he grabbed hold of a strip and pulled it over, knocking a book, and several electronic devices to the floor including his phone, you rolled him onto his back again and straddled his waist.
“God, I missed you,” he hummed as he watched you first tear one packet from the strip, and then tear the packet open.
“You’re the one who had to go and join SHIELD,” you teased as you rolled the rubber down over his shaft.
He groaned and rolled you again lining himself up and thrusting hard into you. You cried out and bucked up under him and Clint quickly covered your mouth and looked down into your eyes. “Shh…” he whispered, as he began to thrust hard into your cunt. “Gotta be quiet.”
You weren’t sure what prompted this need for silence. Perhaps he had thin walls and a neighbor who liked to complain. Maybe there was a roommate you weren’t aware of. Whatever it was, it was nothing except sexy, adding to that desperate frantic nature of what was happening. Like it was somehow illicit and forbidden. It reminded you of when you first started dating and living in old hostels with thin walls or roommates. Every moment together feeling slightly stolen. Perhaps that’s why he did it. The words ‘you gotta be quiet’ were common between you back before SHIELD.
You opened your mouth and he pushed two of his fingers inside. You sucked on them as he slowly moved them in and out of your mouth slowly countering the frantic thrusting of his hips. You mewled around his digits, the sound muffled by his hand. He looked down at you, his blue eyes completely blown out with lust as he fucked you hard.
You moved with him, rolling your hips and clenching your walls. He moaned and brought his hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit furiously as he pounded into your cunt.
You gasped and arched you back. Clint took his hand away and kissed you hard, smothering your cry as your orgasm hit. He groaned and his hips began to stutter and just as the last of your orgasm shuddered through you, he came, groaning into your lips.
You sighed and relaxed back on his mattress, settling into the soft, sleepy, high feeling you had. Today had been eventful and that was a good way to end it. Clint sat up and took off the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash. He rubbed your hip as he removed his hearing aids and lay down beside you spooning you from behind.
It had been such a long time since you and Clint had shared a bed. As you drifted off to sleep you couldn’t help but think about how nice it was to be wrapped in his arms again.
The sun was coming through the cracks in the blind when you woke and it took a moment for you to realize you weren’t in your bed. Your body ached and not just in the spot the snake had bitten you. You had that pleasant throb in your cunt and the strain from muscles you hadn’t used for a while getting an intense workout before you’d gone to sleep You sat up and stretched.
The space beside you was empty and you sat up and looked around. It wasn’t like Clint to get up before you, but then, it had been a long time since you’d last seen him.
Stranger than him not being there, was that your clothes were gone. There was a neatly folded pile of clothes on the chair by the door, that included a towel and a note. You got up and approached them cautiously. This was so unlike the Clint you knew that it was borderline worrying. It was like he was trying to send you a message that something bad had gone down and you half expected the note to be a ransom note from Zelda.
You picked up the note and furrowed your brow as you read.
Hey babe,
Take your time getting ready. Your clothes were kinda bloody so I took them to the laundry. They’ll be done this morning but in the meantime, I borrowed some clothes from a neighbor who looked about your size. Feel free to use the shower, but don’t come down naked.
-Clint.
You read the note over twice. Despite the fact that sending body armor off to be laundered was very strange, there didn’t seem to be any secret message involved and for the first time, you realized that maybe joining SHIELD had given Clint the change he needed. Maybe the angry boy you had known back in the day was gone and he had been replaced with a content and together man.
You decided that whatever the case, you might as well be clean before you went down to see what was up. You took a shower and changed the dressing on your bite wound before changing into the clothes Clint had left for you. They were the clothes of an old lady. The kind you might buy at Sears or Costco. The top was a floral loose-fitting blouse in a cheap polyester and there was a pair of tan slacks that sat almost at your rib cage when you did the buttons up. You laughed as you looked yourself over in the mirror and headed down to find Clint.
The stairs from the hall led straight down into the kitchen. The sound of bugs bunny cartoons playing on TV reached you as you descended the steps to find Clint making pancakes in the kitchen. The kitchen was a chaotic mess with dishes in the sink and batter and flower mixing together on the countertops to make a sticky mess. You smiled, slightly reassured that he didn’t have his shit completely together.
You crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
He hummed and ran his fingers over your knuckles. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” you whispered and looked down into the pan. There were two pancakes frying in butter. Both were a little messy, but there was a definite shape to them. The one on the left vaguely resembled a T-Rex. While the one on the right had a much clearer stegosaurus.
“Dinosaur pancakes?” You giggled, not really sure what to make of it.
He chuckled. “For Nate.”
“Nate?” You asked, puzzled.
He pointed out into the living room and you blanched. Sitting on the couch with his one-eyed dog, were three kids. “Yeah,” he said. “Nate. My son.”
// NEXT
#clint barton#clint barton x reader#hawkeye#hawkeye fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#reader insert#smut#it's you and me
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
One Photo → Mark Lee [2]
↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader
↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.
↳ Word count: 2,610
↳ Chapters: Prelude | 1 | You Are Here! | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TUESDAY - 2
The next day you get up to your alarm, a little groggy and on autopilot. You mumble a greeting to Rhiannon who is already in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. It's not uncommon for you to be undressed in front of her, so she barely reacts for a few moments when you reach into your clean clothes hamper in the living room and begin to change right there.
However, in the midst of putting on your bra, Rhiannon squeals in excitement, nearly making you pee yourself.
“What the hell?!” You exclaim, now convinced that you're fully awake.
“You-your front! Your entire torso! Look!” Rhiannon stands from the little dining table and approaches you, poking your stomach. You nearly let out a scream yourself when you see it.
Your entire torso, from collarbone to hip is completely covered with scar tissue, as well as the underside of your arms and the palms of your hands. “Rhiannon, I-”
“Turn around.” She spoke quickly, and you obey her. She is silent for a little while, which is freaking you out even more than you already were. When she traces an outline over your right shoulder blade, your skin twitches in response. “(Y/N), this is the largest soulmate scar I've ever seen,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I-” You're barely able to stutter out any words. You stand there, half-naked as your best friend examines you.
“Does it hurt?” Rhiannon pokes and prods on the newly formed scar tissue, primarily focusing on your shoulders.
“N-no, not at all.” You purse your lips. You feel like normal if not a bit overwhelmed.
“This has got to be from a hug,” she concludes, nudging you to turn you back around. “There are perfect handprint scars on your back, too. You hugged Mark yesterday, right?”
“He, uh, hugged me three times,” you confirm. “Johnny and Jaehyun hugged me twice.”
“Then it's one of them!” Rhiannon is squealing with delight. “That is so exciting!”
Your face fell a little, finishing putting on your bra and shirt you picked out for the day. “Yeah,” you say softly.
“What's wrong?” Rhiannon is beginning to look concerned, ghosting a hand over your shoulder.
“It's Mark,” you state, “I can feel it, but…”
“But what?”
“If that's true, everything changes. When he leaves, am I going to be able to handle it?” you finish getting dressed and stop to look at your hands. “I… I already know I won't be able to handle the depression and separation anxiety, I won't be able to handle being constantly sick… I was never taught about any of this and I never even thought it would happen to me.”
“(Y/N)...”
“I need to go. I have class.”
~
You took in a deep breath as you gripped your tablet pen. You had been spending the last month's worth of photoshop labs on drawing a picture of Iron Man for your digital rendering final, and you had been doing well enough until today. Now that your hands had part of your scar, they gripped your pen differently and you were slowly growing more and more frustrated.
It's not that you were angry that you had found your soulmate, and you were definitely happy it was Mark- but everything was happening so quickly. What were you going to say to him? Would his scar ruin his career? Were you ready for any of this? You looked up to your computer screen, seeing your reflection in the black screensaver. Seems like you had been overthinking long enough for the monitor to go to sleep.
You can see the buds of forming tears in your reflection. They were totally uncalled for and you knew it. Finding a soulmate was a happy time. In a world where all of this was completely normalized, you had no idea why you suddenly started feeling like a freak. On your way to class, you had already started to feel eyes on you. Most scars were small, dainty and cute, like a handshake or a poke to the shoulder- not a giant one that covered your entire chest, the inside of your arms and the palms of your hands. Scars larger than an apple were extremely rare, and ones like yours were the rarest of all.
What a wonderful scar, you heard your teacher say when you walked into class that morning. They say that if your scar is big, you're meant to be together for more than one lifetime.
Maybe that was true, and it felt like a big responsibility you weren't ready for. You jumped in your seat when your phone vibrated in your pocket.
Mark: Are you in class?
You: Yeah, but it's almost done
Mark: What is your classroom number? I'd like to pick you up if that's okay
You: Are you sure?
Mark: Yeah! I wanted to spend more time with you today, I feel like it wasn't enough yesterday
You: You're cheesy
You: My classroom is 103A in M building
Mark: You know it
Mark: See you soon
You found yourself smiling at his texts. Talking to him eased some of your anxiety, but it still lingered in the back of your head. You put your phone down and shake your mouse so the screen comes back to life. Iron Man stares back at you, and you almost close the program. Your thoughts were irrational, and the only thing your scars were stopping you from doing was finishing the touch-ups of the last few pixels of this piece.
Your hands will get used to it, you scold yourself, this is a good thing, (Y/N). You're not your parents.
You're snapped out of your thoughts again as your classmates begin to pack up, the quiet rustle of backpacks filling the room. You look back at your piece, over a month's work put into it and all you needed was maybe five minutes more of touch-ups and it would be perfect.
The next time this classroom was going to be used was later tonight for the college's dungeons and dragons party, so you didn't think anyone would mind you staying to finish up.
The five minutes of touch-ups turned into 20 minutes of improving mistakes you've noticed, and 20 minutes of improving mistakes turned into an hour of being completely absorbed in your work. You had been so focused on everything that you barely even perk up when you hear one of the computer chairs rolling closer to you.
“I thought you went home, Moose,” you say casually, sticking your tongue out and swiping a line of light reflection onto a strip of red plating.
“You have a friend named Moose?” The voice replies, and you nearly jump out of your seat, the pen swiping across the tablet and drawing a large white streak across Iron Man's face.
“Mark,” you sigh, placing a hand on your chest and trying to take in a deep breath. “You scared me.”
Mark smiled sheepishly. “Sorry…” he looks at your computer screen. “I didn't mean to ruin your piece.”
You smile gently, hitting ctrl z on your keyboard. The streak disappears, you save the piece and turn off the computer. “It's okay. I'm just lucky I don't have autosave turned on.”
Mark sighed with relief. “You kinda scared me,” he starts, looking you in the eye. “You didn't come out of the classroom for so long that I thought you might have forgotten. I probably would have left if your teacher didn't recognize me and say it was okay for me to come inside.”
Your frown at him and avoid his eye contact, deciding to focus on zipping up your backpack. “I'm sorry,” you say dejectedly. “I was dumb, but I would just be a downright moron if I stood you up on purpose.”
Mark laughed softly, watching you pack up. “What did you want to do today?” he asked, voice softer.
“I don't know,” you say, standing and slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “I would like to drop this off at my dorm, though. It's kinda heavy.”
“Okay,” Mark nods. “We can start with that and go from there.”
While you travelled back to your dorm, nearly all of your anxiety about your scars disappeared. You talked about anything but the scar that was easily noticeable through your summery outfit. The more people looked at you, the more you wonder if Mark was keeping quiet out of courtesy for your aversion to his first question on the subject.
Mark was sweet, complimenting your outfit and keeping up a strong conversation about marvel movies.
“Have you seen Endgame yet?” you asked him once you got back to the subject of Iron Man, and Mark laughed sadly.
“To my disappointment, no,” he answered, letting you board the subway first, pulling up his face mask. “Haven't had the time.” he stood close enough to you on the busy subway car that you could still hear him properly.
“Well, if you want we could see it,” you offer quickly, blushing and looking away as you saw his smile through his eyes.
“Are you asking me out, (Y/N)?” he asks, nudging you gently with his elbow.
“N-no,” you respond, swearing up and down mentally that you were as red as a tomato.
“I would graciously accept, but how about we wait until tomorrow? I want to catch up a little bit, I haven't watched any of the films in a while, I've been so busy preparing for the tour.” Mark smiled when you turned back to look at him again.
“Okay, well, I have all the films at my dorm,” you say, biting your lip.
“Would your roommate be okay if we stayed in?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, she would be more than okay,” you tell him, which causes both of you to start laughing. “She will probably faint if she sees you again.”
“I think I've had my lifetime fair share of people fainting in front of me,” he says humorously.
“I wouldn't worry. She is working on her finals today and probably won't be back until after you leave,” you say. “We will have the place to ourselves.”
“Okay, that sounds good. I'm looking forward to catching up. Do you have popcorn?” he asks sheepishly.
“Yeah, we-” the subway comes to an abrupt stop at your station, and you nearly lose your balance. Mark catches you before your face ploughs directly into his chest. He’s holding your arm gently as you exit the subway car, and it is then you truly notice that Mark's scars are clearly visible, from his palms to the edge of his t-shirt, just like you.
When you get back to your dorm room, you place your bag and your shoes in the hallway, leading Mark inside. He pulls down his mask and sighs happily, joining you in removing his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack.
“I remember when my dorm was about this size,” he says wistfully, looking around. You frown a little.
“You mean everyone in NCT used to live in a place like this?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to prepare a pack of popcorn.
“Not exactly, the different subgroups all had their own dorms, but they were all tiny, for more than 3 guys to live in at once.” Mark wanders over to you in the kitchen, leaning back on the counter and crossing his ankles.
“I'm sorry,” you say. “I hope it's different for you now.”
“Yeah,” he replies, watching you put the popcorn in the microwave and press the appropriate numbers. “We all live pretty comfortably now.”
You smile at him. “Good, I'm happy. You deserve to live in a place where you're comfortable.”
Mark is silent for a moment. The microwave finishes and he moves out of your way as you grab a large mixing bowl to put your snack in. He’s watching you diligently, and you feel that too familiar pinch in your chest. It's more intense than you've ever felt from just watching internet content of him on your laptop.
“What film did you want to start with?” you ask, leading him to the living room as you pull a tote bag out from under your coffee table that contains your Marvel movie collection. “We can just watch Infinity War if you want, or we can watch them in story order if you're feeling a little daring.”
“You know the order to watch them chronologically?” he asks, sitting down with the popcorn bowl in his lap.
“Yeah. Rhiannon and I watched them all in order up to the release of Endgame.”
“Wow, I'm impressed,” Mark comments, popping a couple of pieces of the snack into his mouth. “What's the order of the last three films?”
“Let me see… it's Thor Ragnarok, Ant-Man and the Wasp and Infinity War,” you answer. “Wanna watch those?”
“Yeah. Let's do that.”
A few hours later you both are now watching Infinity War, about halfway through the film. A blanket had made its way over your laps and the popcorn bowl has been long empty, sitting on the coffee table in front of you.
You can tell Mark is nervous. You're sitting close, your legs nearly touching, and you wonder if you should say something. You hoped you didn't scare him away from saying anything when the topic was brought up the night before. You didn’t want your bitterness to ruin it all.
Once you spare one glance from the movie to look over at him, you notice Mark has already beat you to it. His gaze pierces right through you, and somehow you feel as if Mark is seeing your soul.
“I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, half-smiling at you. “I don't want to repeat yesterday's mistake.”
“It's okay,” You say softly, “you didn't know.”
“But I should have.” He sounds serious and definitely looks the part, too.
You lick your lips as you watch him. There's something that hits you, like a wave of anxiety that is different from your own.
“Mark,” you have to pause to gather your words. “You've known me for two days. Mistakes are bound to happen, and I… I don't actually hate the premise.”
“Would you be okay with, um, talking about it?” The movie is playing in the background, the flashing images reflecting different lights onto Mark's face.
“There is not much to talk about, is there?” you asked, holding up your scarred hand. “It's here, on both of us, and I'm happy. Scared, but happy.”
“You're not upset about it?” he asked, and it was almost like he was bracing for rejection.
You took his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “No. You said you wanted to know someone so well that you didn't have to think about it, right?”
“Yeah, I did.” Mark returned the grip, his eyes glancing between your eyes and your hand. “You're right, we don't have to think about it.” Mark smiles softly at you, freeing his hand from yours so he can wrap his arm around your shoulder, guiding you to lean into his side.
It's maybe two hours later when you're stirred ever so slightly by the jiggling of the lock to your front door. You don't open your eyes, trying to ignore the sound and continue to cuddle into the warm body squished against you on the couch.
Soft voices are muffled through your ears, and in your half slumber you can't exactly make any words out. Fatigue eventually grips you once again, returning to the vivid dream you were engrossed in just moments ago.
#mark lee#mark lee x reader#mark x reader#nct#nct127#nctu#nct scenarios#nct imagines#reader insert#fanfiction#kpop fanfictions#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Secret Reports
Gonna just edit this thing and put line breaks as I get more of them.
I’m also working on the rest of the completion, and will probably wander off in the middle of this to do Another Day, which will probably have its own post. I fully expect that to be sheer madness.
#1 So is it just me or is Mr H writing these reports to channel how extremely stressed he is. Cuz like. Mood. *gestures vaguely at blog* *gestures at this post specifically*
I. Hold up. Skeezy McFuckwad and Joshua did what resulting in which now. Excuse me. EXPLAIN!??! Joshua had a sneaky Game running with Skeezy that directly lead to Hazuki ordering Skeezy to destroy Shinjuku??? Is that what I am reading. Or possibly the order was already in the works, and then there was the Game, which ultimately just pushed that forward?? You can’t just say shit like that and not give details ffffffff.
#2 Mr H having about as much contempt for Shinjuku rules as I do I feel seen haha. Bogus indeed. I can’t remember if I said it in one of my other posts, of if it was in a group chat, but I made a comment somewhere how this ruleset doesn’t seem to work with the stated purpose of the whole Reaper’s Game system. Sweet validation.
#3 Not much to say except that if I had read this entire report when I actually got it, I would have been much more alarmed by all of the Replays Rindo has to do after that. I got it partway through week 3 but decided not to read it until I beat the game and then BAM it has this lovely tidbit about potentially being able to destroy the UG and RG.
#4 So, the business that the fandom refers to as the Long Game is known in universe by the higher-ups and Shibuya’s impurification, because it didn’t get ‘purified’ like Shinjuku (I object to that term but ok).
“The hierarchical freeze presumably stems from opposition to the impurification”
Skeezy wasn’t reprimanded when he arrived in Shibuya “possibly because most Higher Plane denizens still oppose Shibuya’s impurification”
ExcUSE ME. I. WHAT. In one of the secret reports for the first game, Mr H says something about the way things turned out be an ‘ideal parallel world’ according to the Angels. I guess he only meant the ones who didn’t want the city destroyed holy shit. That most of them didn’t want Joshua to change his mind and STILL DON’T is so massively fucked up I can’t. Dear Higher Plane, what the actual, ever loving fuck.
-----------------
#5 One hundred and four Games under Shiba. That’s… so. many. teams. Holy shit. And the teams we knew had seen at LEAST 30 teams go. And the three teams we saw weren’t small. So many people…
Also, “Minamimoto seems to be plotting something” is the funnies thing I’ve read in ages OF COURSE HE IS that’s what he DOES. XD That was some mood whiplash.
#6 I was so hung up on the lack of entry fee for so long you don’t even know. Like. Those were so important in the first one it was baffling to me that Shinjuku rules didn’t have anything similar. And then eventually I just decided that the whole Game wasn’t being run correctly and Shiba was clearly after something other than driving the improvement that’s supposed to be the point.
I would like more explanation on this ‘Rindo’s stagnation makes him perfect for time travel thing’. I kind of understand how his reactions being consistent would be helpful in being able to control where the timeline goes (also I just realized this further confirms that Angels remember the other timelines glad I wasn’t imagining that the Prime days are a blur), but what does he mean about being able to maintain abnormally high levels of imagination? (It might tell me later so don’t say anything lol)
“I can only hope I’m not overthinking things.” Oh, you aren’t. If I’m understanding everything correctly, Skeezy actually had two proxies. And poor Rindo managed to end up being proxy for both sides at the same time which is. A mess.
#7 Well, finally we know how Coco managed to get her hands on a taboo sigil. Plagiarism. Lmao. That at least makes sense and I can worry less about her being Something Else. I would like a word with whoever didn’t clean that up from Udagawa long enough for her to copy it though. That’s hilarious. Interesting that Mr H thinks it wasn’t a perfect recreation though, that something in him got changed. Once again, please elaborate. Please. *headdesk* What prompted Coco to just. Copy a taboo sigil though. Cuz that seems. Unusual.
------------------
#8 Ok there’s a lot to unpack in this one. Namely, more Shinjuku rules. I would love to know if these are long standing rules or relatively recent. Cuz like. Did Shinjuku’s Game ever run in a way that would drive the kind of improvement that’s supposed to be the overall goal? Or has it always, or at least for a while now, been basically a meat grinder? The players that don’t clear that minimum bar probably just get erased outright, I would think. Actually, I’m confused. If normally, one team would get to leave and one team would be erased, wouldn’t that normally keep the average pretty level, so the Game would basically go on forever? Otherwise what do you do with all the other teams that are between first and last? I’m confused. It can’t be normal for teams to keep asking for more rounds. And what if the winning team says ‘everyone gets to go home’?
“The Conductor has yet to contact the Composer” and “it is possible he is unaware of the Higher Plane’s purification protocol.” I don’t know why, but I get the feeling these are important.
#9 These secret reports are really driving at the whole ‘Rindo just goes with it’ thing, aren’t they. Like, that was his thing, right? He has trouble making definitive decisions? So his arc culminates in that moment in Udagawa where he tells Hazuki that he’s going to take the risk and go back one more time, where he’s making that decision purely for his own sake. And here Mr H seems to be saying that prodding Rindo down the road to character growth is going to be a lot harder than it was with Neku back in the day. Which makes sense, I think. Confronting someone with the concept that other people have value is a lot less complicated than trying to get them to not only make a firm decision, but to choose something that is purely because it’s what they want and need, not because someone else thinks they should.
It’s a little alarming that this report implies that if the pin wasn’t absorbing the Dissonance caused by the Replays, the UG and RG would already be having a bad time. Yikes. This is the report for day 2 of the second week. We haven’t even gotten into the crazy time travel yet.
Aaaaand #10 is for completing the social network, so I have to actually go do Another Day. I want to read these in order; it is much less confusing that way.
------------
#10 I really shouldn’t read these late at night with a possible migraine coming on, they’re already confusing enough. The bits that made sense: Uzuki was acting Conductor damn girl. (Did she have to deal with Joshua and was he in Dignified Mode or Being a Shit Mode because that’s possibly an oof.) I had assumed Shiba was Shinjuku’s Conductor and then just kinda took over after they moved in but apparently not? And RIP the actual Conductor, apparently. Weird that so many Reapers made it but the Conductor, who by all rights should have, didn’t.
I am slightly concerned by the fact that there’s standard procedure for obliterating a district. That’s. Alarming.
I don’t think page 4 is continuing the thought on page 3. Fucking. Stop that. Don’t just say a thing and then start talking about something else I would like EXPLANATIONS. UGH. “Almost” he says. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that almost is a big deal, so why don’t you tell me about it.
Four cases where a district got into trouble before a final decision on whether to reset or not was made. And one was the last game. I wonder if that means whatever was wrong that made Joshua want to destroy it, or if the ‘imbalance’ was all the madness that happened after he agreed to one final Game with Kitaniji and the left the UG. Cuz in one of the first set of secret reports, it says that with the Composer absent, the UG is starting to fall apart as the rules are no longer valid, or something like that. I would definitely call that an imbalance.
#11 All I care about in this report is that Mr H wants to have a digital art bonding party with Kaie and that is so random why are you writing this down you absolute goober. The first page of this report is like ‘everyone is getting depressed’ and then just a wild left turn into dork-town. Lmao what.
-------------
#12 I don’t think Mr H knows at this point (you get this report for W2D5’s Boss Noise) that the Ruinbringers are all Reapers. He’s gonna be mad. He does know what Shoka is up to though. He’s worried. Aw.
#13 It didn’t occur to me until this report hit me in the face with it, but they’ve set up a fantastic contrast between the two people Rindo knows from online. One is. not great, let’s say, because I did not take the reveal of Motoi’s true self well. The other is Shoka, and she’s a real friend. I now see what you did there. One relationship that’s a farce and one that really, really isn’t.
#14 Me, out loud, at 1:30 in the damn a.m.: WAIT. HOLD THE FUCK UP.
If getting Tsugumi out of Mr Mew required an Angel, how in the hell did Shiki manage to…? What. I’m very confused.
Also damn, saving Tsugumi was so important that Shinjuku’s Conductor died for it. Did he know what she could do, the whole visions thing? Or maybe that something was wrong with Shiba and it would take someone like her to potentially stop him in the future?
I still would like to now how the hell Tsugumi got her hands on Mr Mew. Especially since its apparently the ORIGINAL Mr Mew and she seems to have had him during the inversion? What.
#15 So… Inversions don’t always happen when a region is purified. I’m trying to wrap my brain around what a ‘complete loss of character’ in and area that’s had an Inversion could mean. Like… I think I get it, but my brain won’t make words, let alone sentences. Like when you go into a hotel room, and it doesn’t feel like a home, as opposed to when you go to a friend or family’s house, and it does? Kinda like that but it’s the whole district that’s just… blank? That’s kinda creepy.
If there are so many who think a ‘regular purification’ isn’t enough, the a) what does that even look like, b) is that what Joshua was going to do to Shibuya and c) is there an intermediate step between ‘normal’ and Inversion? I have been staring at this report for literally 15 minutes now.
#16 “I wonder how [Shiba] will feel about all this after he is allowed to return to his former self.” Yuuuuuup. I still Do Not Like him, but dude was borderline mind controlled so like. Yeah. And I did get to kill him once, so. As long as he minds his business and isn’t a total dick from here on, whatever. It all just sucks.
*facepalm* Well at least we got to being suspicious of Replay eventually. Why did it take you this long Mr H. Though I do wonder what Rindo would have been able to do without the interference. He had to have some kind of latent skill for the pin to react to him, right? I’m now going in circles mentally trying to puzzle out if Replay is like, a leveled up version of whatever Rindo would have naturally had, and regardless, where exactly it came from. Because the only time I can think of when anyone had a chance to mess with the pin was when he didn’t catch it in the prologue. And I’m pretty sure it was Joshua who picked it up. Aaagh I’m giving myself a headache.
I find it hard to believe skeezy would just yeet a random time travel pin out into the world. That seems both dumb as fuck and inefficient.
#17 “Some of them who know what I am occasionally try to contact me.” Lol so Kariya DOES know who Mr H is, I take it. Alright.
I’m having some kind of emotion that Wildkat still exists in a way for the Reapers, and that some of them still go there.
I just imagined Uzuki texting him like ‘plz make the Composer fucking do something kthx’ and I’ve got the giggles now oh dear
#18 HA! I was right! Minamimoto WASN’T in control when he attacked us! ‘Distortions within himself’ though, that’s concerning. Does that have to do with how he’s come back from the dead twice now? And how Coco’s copy of the sigil was apparently imperfect?
#19 I was about to say ‘who would target him for his abilities?’ and then my brain turned back on because duh. Shiba and them were looking hard for Neku, to the point that they flooded the RG with Player Pins in the hopes that he would pick one up and get sucked into the Game. A thing that occurred to me last night at 3:30 in the morning because I am a disaster: Mr H says that Minamimoto ‘seems different’. Neku says much the same thing after he comes back. So… Neku’s ability to Scan all the way down to someone’s Soul is potentially close to as sensitive as Mr H’s long distance ability. Which is a little insane. On top of the fact that he can use basically every psych imaginable no problem, survived a pact with a Composer for a full week, while said Composer was using crazy light beams which probably should have melted Neku from the feedback, and then almost singlehandedly defeated the Conductor while somehow inventing four-way fusion attacks. Kid is mad powerful. And he’s just a human. Like, the OG secret reports say that people always become dramatically stronger when they become Reapers. Reaper!Neku would be unstoppable.
“This would be much simpler if I could sit down and talk with him.” Okay, I laughed out loud. Like, loudly.
So… Shinjuku’s Composer… basically had his Conductor assassinated by skeezy. And because skeezy was messing with Shiba’s head, he could prompt Shiba to take the Reapers to Shibuya afterwards, to start doing it there too? Hazuki ordered Shinjuku’s purification so… Oh dear. I might have a few bones to pick with him.
OH NO. OOOOOH. OH NOOOO. SHINJUKU’S CONDUCTOR. HE WAS TSUGUMI’S BROTHER OH MY GOD. That is fucking tragic what the fuck. What the FUCK. Okay several things make sense now but OH MY GOD FUCKING HELL I WAS NOT READY FOR THAT. Shiki fixing Mr Mew allowed Tsugumi to free herself because her brother had already done part of the work, I take it? Along with us getting the Noise out of there? No wonder the Conductor stayed, he had to go get his sister… Shit, man.
…… Did Coco steal Mr Mew and take him to Shinjuku?????
----------------------------
#21 isn’t very interesting, just a rehash of stuff we already knew.
#22 Okay Haz IS Shinjuku’s Composer. What. Why? I’m. So confused. Why would he intercede on our behalf, and why NOW? He was happy to throw his own city away, but stepped in to stop skeezy in Shibuya? And then tried to put it back together, and when Rindo was miserable he came to try to understand why. And then cajoled Rindo into having a breakthrough in his Character Development to boot.
Mr H says he has an idea why Haz did all this. And then doesn’t fucking say it because OF COURSE. *headdesk* That gets really old really fast, game.
I’m now running through The Last Day’’ to get the final two reports and this entire section with Haz is somehow even more confusing with context. God damn it Nomura.
#23 Even after he said we were on our on this time, he forced the Soul Pulvis to reform as Pheonix Cantus to make it easier for us to fight? Bro. What. Are all Composers just… walking contradictions? Aiya.
Shoutout to emotional support Joshua at the end there lol. I remember half-hysterically thinking ‘what are you just here for moral support?’ but ok. And I mean, it did work, Neku did manage to do the thing, so. *sigh* Speaking of, it is ABSOLUTELY INSANE that Neku manage to sync with the entire city without his brain melting. Remember at the beginning of the first game when he scans for the first time and has a massive sensory overload? Look at my boy, all grown up.
#24 Holy shit world building on how exactly people come back to life without everyone freaking out. I never thought I would see the day.
I still have so many questions but that was always going to be the case. The first game had so many things it left open as well. Agh. Time to start wearing new holes in my brain overthinking things.
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
Am I allowed to ask what happens when the Empire discovers the rogue diamonds? If you dont have the time feel free to just delete this uwu
In terms of how it goes down, it’s definitely a case of Pointing Spiderman Meme meets Caveman Spongebob Meme!
Red and Black Diamond (the Underfells) are always out at the furthest reaches, looking for new territory to conquer or claim, and it’s not unthinkable that they might, entirely by chance, come across a downright antique vessel that’s nonetheless in perfect working order--and very obviously gem-tech.
They hail it and as soon as the feed connects and each pair of diamonds realizes they’re looking at another pair of diamonds, it’s basically a very dignified, perfectly calm and measured......... Okay, it’s not even remotely like that, just a very loud, “YOU!!!” and then a lot of barked and half-sputtered questions and demands while they all try to get answers from each other.
Eventually, when the dust is settled and all the diamonds know about each other, the Outer Galaxy Diamonds are invited to Homeworld, to visit or maybe see if they can find a niche to fill...?
Pink and Olive (the Horrorswaps) visit and decide they’d like to stay. It seems to them that not all that much effort is being put into proper recording and preservation of gem history--and considering it’s apparently a giant blank before a certain point, that’s kind of an embarrassing oversight!
Olive rolls up his sleeves and gets to digging around in the archives they do have, cleaning up and organizing and maintaining records with meticulous detail--in triplicate and not only in digital format.
Pink goes out and even sometimes off-planet a little more, actually getting his hands dirty with the restoration and preservation of historic gem buildings and sites that might otherwise be demolished to make way for newer things or forgotten altogether.
Their combined efforts spark a greater interest in gem history and heritage and they’re both very happy about that.
Cubic and Moissanite (the Underglooms) decide to stay on Homeworld, too, and in searching for some area to be of use, they realize that the only diamond even remotely handling recreation is Orange Diamond--maybe they can help there somehow? Orange, who is unfortunately often busy as the figurehead of the Empire and can only make time to host about a third as many balls and galas as he’d like to, thinks that’s a fantastic idea and welcomes their support wholeheartedly!
Cubic starts to monitor (at least for Homeworld gems) logs of cycles worked and downtime taken/given, picking out trends and calling out areas (and supervisors) with bad ratios of the two.
Moissanite regularly digs through accounts and images of colonies and gem-occupied planets and drafts up (what are essentially) ads and travel brochures for them, so that gems who need to go somewhere to take a break can find just what they’re looking for.
Both of them--independently and sometimes together--also start regularly patronizing Sea Spires and Gardens and such, trying to get gems excited about going to visit them. It works pretty well because the Imitation Diamonds are celebrities of a sort, a notch or so down from the legitimate political powers that are the Diamonds, but still very big and sparkly gems that are Diamond-adjacent and it’s actually a big deal to hang out where they hang out; where you might even get to see one of them! In person!
Cloudy and Pepper (the Horrorswapfells) visit, but ultimately have no interest in staying longterm. It’s too loud and busy and structured for their tastes, as gems who’ve never really been part of a caste system like that. They return to their ‘colony’ where they’re basically benevolent gods whose only responsibility is to look after some organics that mostly look after themselves anyway. ...Still, it becomes gemkind’s worst kept secret that if you feel you can’t fit into Homeworld’s society, or if you don’t want to, or if you’re trying to escape something or someone--you can always run to their colony to find a little sanctuary.
Cloudy doesn’t mind showing runaways how to relax and what’s to do for fun around here. So many gems who really just need to deprogram a bit and just be who and what they are...
Pepper finds he likes looking after and protecting the new arrivals, like fulfilling his purpose but without having to be on Homeworld to do it.
Both are quite happy to use their Diamond strength and status as a shield for any gem that comes calling looking for so-and-so-- plenty of “how should i know if your pearl is here? you’re bothering a diamond over this?” and “TELL YOU WHAT-- COME GET YOUR SEA GLASS. I MAY BE DEFECTIVE, BUT IF YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN CHALLENGE A DIAMOND...”
Raw & Champagne (the Horrorfells) have...a bit of a conundrum... In that one wants to stay and one wants to go. Homeworld is...fine, but Raw is pretty keenly aware that he doesn’t really Fit into it, too unrefined to find any niche truly comfortable. Champagne is, of course, perfect and could find someplace to fit quite easily, becoming the Diamond and leader he was always meant to be. ...But he finds himself conflicted, not wanting to leave Raw to go back out into the universe alone or to force him to stay somewhere he’d be miserable and out of place. Luckily, they figure out a compromise.
Raw doesn’t really know what to make of it when his brother tells him to go gather up as many off-colors and defectives and broken gems that want to be elsewhere, but he’s liked those kinds of gems the best since they got here, so he does just that.
Champagne graciously offers his assistance in lightening some of Yellow Diamond’s workload, guiding and steering and shaping the course of their collective society. ...He’ll be doing this work remotely, of course, as he and his brother will be returning to the abandoned sectors from whence they came, reestablishing and reinhabiting those places that were obviously supposed to be part of the Empire. Red and Black can expand into new areas, and he and Raw will retake the old.
Lots of defective and off-color gems are very happy to find a place they can really be both seen and useful! Things were okay on Homeworld, it’s not like there were any crazy shattering policies if you weren’t perfect, but if you didn’t fit in, you kinda knew it. Raw seems quietly, flatteringly fascinated by all of them and Champagne has a knack for figuring out what they can do, if not what they were made for and for some gems, it’s just a better place to be!
Eventually, much much later, the Chameleon Diamonds (the Gastertales) run into somebody or another and pretty much the same thing happens-- a lot of exclamation points and confusion, followed by a tentative offer to check things out and see if they want to find a place to fit in.
Reverse wants frankly no part of Homeworld. Neither he nor his brother have any memory of being Void, the founder of this civilization, and so there’s no real affiliation with or responsibility for gemkind. He wants to get back out there into the universe and get back to living life and exploring...but he’s not going to leave without his brother.
Classic doesn’t really want to stay either. The rigidity of society is hard to adjust to when all you’ve ever really known is total freedom, and he’d also very much like to be back out observing the observable universe as soon as possible. Unfortunately... he does feel a responsibility to stick around for at least a little while. Brown Diamond was quite insistent on it as well and with his motives explained, Classic agreed fully--though it’s a stay of moral obligation at best.
They both dip literally the moment they can, taking communicators with them but honestly with no intention of ever coming back save for some emergency where they were desperately needed. The universe is infinite and time not spent out in it feels wasted!
#skelegems#headcanons#diamond au#horrorfell#hf!sans#hf!papyrus#horrorswap#hs!sans#hs!papyrus#undergloom#ug!sans#ug!papyrus#horrorswapfell#hsf!sans#hsf!papyrus#gastertale#g!sans#g!papyrus#hailstormdeath
68 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
benedictsvestcollection
Let Me Be Your Anchor
elcondenado
El Condenado
beatirceprior-divergent
A BookLovers Life
mindisliberty
Mind is Liberty
kcleih
Here To Follow The Mews And Twos