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#it’s almost like a face reveal without the face
tojivrse · 3 days
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requesting anything to do with puppy!choso🧸ྀི
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𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. you wake up to chocho admiring your sleeping body as he edges himself — mommy!reader, drabble
ii. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָཐིཋྀ
╰﹕ choso’s somnophilia
﹕ In attempt to suppress his moans, Choso’s mouth is covered, hips bucking into his hand. Your sleeping body next to him is what's keeping him going. His heavy breaths and quiet moans fill the air. Pre-cum spilling from his tip.
He’s already close as he's been edging himself for almost an hour. The thought of you waking up to his knot in you riled him up.
As you lay on your side, he runs his finger along your waistband, pushing his finger under and slowly pulling your panties down.
After revealing your perfect ass, he caresses it, being careful not to wake you as he shifts closer. His breath is heavy by now, panting over your shoulder.
His body fills him with a sudden desire, one of lust. One that he could no longer be denied. As he softly inserts himself into you, you slowly begin to wake up. "Puppy,” you question him between small moans. “What are you doing..?"
“Shhh, mama…” He puts his hand over your mouth, hushing you while he begins to softly pull in and out of you. The two of you, sleepily fucking, his movements sloppy.
Cho’s hand grabs your hip forcing himself into you. "I just couldn’t help myself...” he whined. His constant moaning and whimpering in your ear as you take it all.
Your simultaneous moans synchronized, reverberating off the walls. Shivers of anticipation cascaded down your spine, awakening every nerve ending as his skilled touch sent waves of pleasure through your body.
Your barely awoken senses came alive with each of his movements, your body responding eagerly to his every touch.
As he pumped you with a relentless rhythm, your body tensed with the building pleasure. Every thrust seemed to bring you closer to the edge, your breath hitching with each stroke.
Without warning, he slams into you, filling you up with his warm load. Panting like a dog, he pulls himself out of you, his cum dripping down from your cunt. “I’m sorry, mommy…” he mumbled.
"Don’t be, pup." You murmur. “But now it’s my turn.” you snarl as shift around to face him. You turn him on his back as you throw your legs around his waist. Straddling him, he looks up to you with a prey-like lust in his eyes.
You prop yourself up on your knees, giving just enough room to reinsert him.
Cho whimpers at this action, and you smirk as he squirms below you. “C‘mon baby,” You coo while you slowly start to roll your hips against him. “You can take it.”
He’s super sensitive now, his cock throbbing and twitching inside of you. Your warm insides drive him crazy. “Mommy…” he groaned. You notice his hips begin to thrust into the air, emphasizing the feeling of him inside of you.
Each passionate sound echoed and lingered in the air. “You’re so needy, puppy.” you mumble, “All for me?”
He nods obediently. “Yes mama…” he whispers under his breath.
You feel you both reaching your peaks as his cock pulses inside of you. Cho whimpers and pushes at you to get off, but to no avail. With a final thrust and grind, you’re once again stuffed with his warm liquid.
“That’s a good boy” you exhale with a grin, leaning over his body to kiss his quivering lips.
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ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
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ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ
"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."
Word count: 3,800.
Fandom: House of the Dragon.
Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.
MEETING - 1. Her.
Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable determination, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."
Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.
Every night, in silent prayers, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."
Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.
She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.
Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.
Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.
"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.
"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.
"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg. 
"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.
"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.
"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.
"Thank you, Jace."
"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.
He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.
"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.
"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"
"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.
"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.
"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.
"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.
"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.
"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.
"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.
Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.
"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.
"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.
Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.
"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."
She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.
Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.
"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.
"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."
"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."
She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"
"It's beyond our understanding."
She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.
Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.
"Your grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.
"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"
"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.
"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.
Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?
"They gave me a pig!"
"A what?" the queen asked.
"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.
She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.
"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.
Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.
"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.
The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.
She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.
It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.
She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.
"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."
"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.
"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.
"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.
"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.
"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.
"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"
"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.
"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.
"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.
"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.
"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."
She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.
There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.
She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.
They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.
Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.
She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.
"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.
"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.
She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.
She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.
Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.
Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.
Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.
She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.
It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.
The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.
She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so she cleared her throat and, with her book in hand, marched towards him.
Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.
She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.
She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.
He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.
How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.
Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.
"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom." 
She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."
Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"
"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.
"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.
"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.
"Yes, of course."
"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.
"Yes, I did."
"Did you see any?"
"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.
"Gods! You must have been so terrified."
"Not really" he simply responded.
"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.
She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.
Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.
It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.
"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.
"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.
Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.
"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.
"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.
"Goodnight, my prince."
"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.
"Nothing would make me happier."
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ressjeon · 12 hours
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relief | myg (m.)
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pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader (hints of ot7)
genre/au ⇢ smut, fluff, idol!au, long time ??
summary ⇢ the nerves have been shaking Yoongi’s usual confidence while preparing for his first solo tour — what a relief that you’re here then.
wc & rating ⇢ 3k | 18+
warnings/content ⇢ dom/sub dynamics, grinding, protected sex, riding, emotional sex?, praise kink, groping, semi-clothed sex, size kink, breast play, temperature play, orgasm control, yoongi’s hands are everywhere help, aftercare, pillowtalk <3
a/n: it's been a year since yoong's tour kicked off so i wanna celebrate with this, along with my return here! never thought i'll do this cuz i don’t usually write nor read this au but he won again on the poll last year so here we are XD! this is mainly inspired by what i was feeling while watching the live stream of both his shows in the first city of his d-day tour! pretty divider by the amazing @cafekitsune <3
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after the final song, you were just as surprised as the crowd around you. a faint chuckle leaves you at the way Yoongi ended his concert.
of course, you should've expected that he'll pull something like this. 
“i’m so proud of you yoongs” 
you greet him enthusiastically as soon as you spot him at the entrance of the hallways near his dressing room. he’s smiling so wide, reaching you at once with his airport-like walk like how he exited the stage quickly earlier.
you beam once he catches you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders despite how sweaty he is.
“it went well” he giggles lightly, caging you in his arms before grabbing your hand to bring you to the backstage area where you both can see the audience without being seen.
the gummy smile plastered on his face never wavered as he watches the fans dispersing outside and you have an inkling that it's reminding him of the world tours with the boys before.
“i told you it would” you whisper once he turns to you, leaning in to give him a peck but Yoongi’s hand reaches up to grab your neck, pulling you in to catch your lips once more and deepen the kiss.
a small whimper elicits from you, both from being needy and worry that any staff might see you both like this but Yoongi seems to not care. it must be the adrenaline and the whiskey combo he had during the concert cause his calloused hands start roaming your body. 
a total opposite during soundcheck where he’s simply cuddling you while waiting during the delay that he almost fell asleep.
though Yoongi's performed in front of millions of people for a decade now, he still feels anxious since he’s doing this on his own and it’s been a long time since he met his fans in person. he was naturally nervous about this but you’ve been doing your best to support him so he's really grateful that you’re here.
teasing him earlier when he put those yellow sunglasses on while you rake your hand through his luscious locks thankfully helped ease his nerves.
"yeah yeah i saw the cat edit"
“you’re so cute”
.
a firm grab of your ass reminds you of where the two of you are, nudging Yoongi slightly to release you. both breathless from the kiss, he’s looking at you in bewilderment until you gestured him to the waiting staff who’s here to take his post-concert pictures.
“pics first” 
he only answered with a pout after releasing you but he followed. you on the other hand couldn't look at the photographer as embarrassment floods you, immediately retreating to the dressing room to wait for Yoongi there.
grabbing another glass of Henny, you scroll through your phone for updates on what’s going on outside. you did sneak out earlier and lined up with fans to get some merch and talked to some of them because well, you are one of them.
loving the boys and their music is one thing you share in common.
.
after a while, the door opens, revealing a smiling Yoongi like he hadn’t been teasing you this whole time.
maybe that was part of his plan but you’ve been patiently waiting. it even came to the point where you can't wait to be all over him now that everything’s done for the night.
placing your empty glass of brandy on the small side table, you drop your phone on the couch before approaching Yoongi. he chuckles when you hastily drag him toward the couch before climbing on his lap.
he doesn’t mind really, knowing how needy you get after he performs like you were in the past. he might’ve unintentionally teased you like he does to everyone else but it's one of the things he loved about you. 
how easily you get turned on in every little thing he and the others do but especially for this. knowing his voice can make you crumble instantly gives him that satisfaction that he didn’t know he had when he first met you.
“you’re worked up this much __?” he teases, hands situating themselves on both sides of your waist. “is it the black or white one?” he adds nonchalantly, pertaining to his outfits prior to the one he’s wearing right now.
“shut up, you know what your voice does to me” you whine impatiently, clutching the silver bone necklace around his neck before leaning in to kiss him again.
ah, the chain, another one that you love seeing on him. he'll always be fascinated with your favourites no matter how long you've been with them.
you deepened the kiss this time and Yoongi welcomed them with fervour. it’s his turn to get lost in the moment now that you’re needier than him. his ending fit riled you up this much that now you’re grinding yourself desperately on him but hey, he’s not complaining. 
his hands smooth around your covered thighs after, lingering between the crease of your legs before he releases your lips.
“i’m surprised you’re wearing leggings, you hate it” 
“it’s cold”
“explains the sweatshirt too” he muses, one hand tugging the baggy sleeve of your white tour sweatshirt with both his aliases on your chest.
his heart warms seeing it on you, the way you’re proudly wearing him even though this whole thing between you and them still remains a secret. his hands creep underneath your top, caressing your sides that hasten your roll against his crotch.
you lean in to kiss Yoongi once more but he grabs your sides, stopping you.
“want it off though” he whispers, the mischief in his eyes shifts to a demanding one.
his darkening orbs are looking straight into yours, making you squirm against him. you didn’t waste any time at once, taking off both your sweatshirt and your bra in a frenzy, much to Yoongi’s satisfaction.
you’d know with that cocky look resurfacing on his pretty face.
now that you’re bare in front of him, Yoongi can see your crotch rubbing along the top of his denim zippers. he could watch you like this, let you get off on your own until you cum like he’s done many times but he relents.
lately, he’s been so busy with the tour preparation that he missed seeing you this needy. he reaches down to cup your pussy, not surprised to find you drenched knowing how easy it is for you to get wet. 
you squirm at his touch, trying to get more friction by rubbing your swollen clit on the buckle of his belt. he knows it's you silently wanting his fingers to help you get off but his hand abruptly leaves you.
frustration looms on your face, your lips turning into a frown but Yoongi grabs your body closer and instantly latches his mouth on your tits, earning a surprised shriek from you.
“yoongi!” 
you didn’t mean to be loud but with how Yoong’s been licking your pebbled nipples and occasionally nibbling them, you’re starting to forget that there are still people outside the door who can hear you both.
one hand of yours takes a handful of his messy jet-black hair, pushing his face more into your chest. he groans and continues to nip around one tit while his other hand plays around your neglected breast.
kneading and pinching nonstop, you’re unable to hold in the whiny moans coming out of you as your other hand grips his shoulder. you’re relishing it, the rough feeling of callous fingers against your now-swollen nipples. 
taking a glance down at Yoongi, you notice how wet he is. he's drenched in sweat but my fuck does he look even hotter when he does. his mouth releases your peppered breasts, opting to fondle your clothed pussy this time.
“don’t tell me you’ve been wet since the first song” he teases and you look away from his heated gaze. he got his answer when he felt your cunt twitch through your clothed core. rough pads of his fingers rub you faster, more of your slickness seeping through your leggings to his hands.
he was clad in all black earlier, one of your favourites so he wasn’t that surprised.
“yoongi..” you’re panting, almost begging him with the way you're gripping his hair and shoulders. you need him to do something, anything more than teasing at this point. 
it surprises you when Yoongi grabs the empty glass of Henny that you put aside on the table earlier, taking the ice to his mouth and he’s back to assaulting your breasts. he rolls the ice cube with his tongue around your nipples, making you shiver at the cold and wet sensation.
you’re whimpering, legs shaking as the band on your lower abdomen threatens to snap with how Yoongi’s cold and wet fingertips fondling your core. the multiple stimulations are pushing you nearer to your orgasm. you’re not sure if he’s aware or not, if this was his plan all along.
“..oh fuck” 
“hmm?” 
“yoongi..i don’t.. wanna cum in this” 
you cry, eyes mustering your neediest look towards him, hoping he’ll listen to your pleas. and Yoongi did, his hand leaving your drenched pussy and mouth releasing your breast. relief courses through you, smiling at him despite the uncomfy feeling of your leggings sticking to your core.
“of course, you don’t, always wanting to cream my cock” 
he doesn’t say it in a mocking manner, the hint of adoration coming forward within his hooded eyes. you get off of him once his hands release you, quickly shimmying down your leggings while he unbuckles his baggy pants and boxers.
you didn’t miss him whipping out a condom from his front pocket, making you suspicious with your arms now crossed over your chest. 
“and why-”
“you’re here and i did remember you love being fucked anywhere”
he answers right away and your face morphs in shame, arms sliding down to your elbows, revealing your breasts again to Yoongi.
you hate being paranoid like this though you know he’s always been prepared. and he’s right, you do love it when they fuck you anywhere they like whether it be on the venue, in their vans or in their hotel rooms. 
it’s one of your favourites when you join them on tours before.
“yoon–..” you try but he beckons you closer and helps you back onto his lap, kissing you right away and ignoring your protests because he knew right away what you were gonna say.
“none of that hmm? lemme get you ready”
he took himself out and put on the condom already before his hands skitter around your inner thighs.
“no” 
he quirks a brow at you, wanting to make sure if that's what you want. even though you’re stark naked figure’s been enticing him to just fuck it and ruin you like you’ve been begging for, he's been a pro at controlling himself to prepare you.
huffing before wrapping your hands around his neck, you squeeze his nape as an answer. 
you just want him inside you and you don’t wanna wait anymore.
a smirk graces Yoongi's face at your impatience before helping your body up to grind on him again.
now rubbing your bare pussy against his dick, you enjoy watching him seethe with each friction. your hips circle until his swollen tip catches your entrance, pausing just to tease him. one of his hands scrambles to grip your hip and you chuckle before lifting yourself, grabbing his dick and lowering slowly.
“fuck,fuck,fuck” 
you watch Yoongi close his eyes, a plethora of curses coming out from his mouth. you’re whimpering in return, pussy walls fluttering around him to try to accommodate his thick girth.
“big..fuck, yoongi” you cry, tears threatening to well in your eyes. 
you love the feeling though and he knows it but Yoongi still tries to comfort you, roaming his veiny hands around your body till he reaches your breasts.
you start moving your hips slowly, planting your hands against his clothed chest as you try to take more of him. his hands fly on both sides of your waist, feline eyes also watching you while you’re slowly adjusting to him.
“more..” he grunts, prompting you to go faster as he tightens his grip on your waist. you try to roll your hips faster then deeper until you bottomed down.
pausing for a bit, you couldn’t help but lean in and whine against his clothed shoulder with how his cock’s filling you deliciously. 
he has other plans though, releasing a deep groan after you unconsciously clenched around him. he starts fucking up to you, pouring all that adrenaline rush coursing through his bloodstream. 
a loud moan escapes you when he finds that soft spot, causing you to pull back and again note the cocky smirk emerging on his handsome face.
“yoongi..fuck” 
“shhhh”
he silences you with a finger on his puckered lips, hips bucking up to you faster while he repeatedly hits that spongy spot again.
you struggle but you wanna be good for him so you close your eyes and force yourself to keep your moans in. it results in you gasping instead, small whimpers still escaping you with how magnified everything feels. 
“you listen really well baby” amusement laces Yoongi’s tone, eliciting deep moans after when you clamp around him with the praise. his groans spur you to ride him faster but you’re starting to feel the burn on your legs.
he must’ve felt you slowing down cause you found him grinning once you reopened your eyes. gritting your teeth, you dig your nails into Yoongi’s clothed shoulders and call his name in a whimper, biting your lip to hold back your release but his praise makes you crumble.
"yeah? come on __" he gauges you, kissing you at once to swallow the moans that you couldn’t keep in once you reach your peak.
he slows down his pace, letting you ride your own high as his mouth peppers your jaw then later your neck with kisses. his hands continue to caress your naked body until they reach down on your ass.
you let out a surprised yelp when he squeezes them hard, causing you to grip his damp hair once he starts fucking up to you again. 
calling your name with a deep groan, you whimper by his ear in response as he chases his release. he’s relentless with his fucking, groping your ass nonstop until you feel him explode in the condom.
you do miss it when he fills you up but you both can’t risk anything while he’s still on tour.
“shit..” he chuckles after releasing you, pushing his hair back with a satisfied look on his face but it shortly disappears when he notices the small tears in your eyes.
“was i too rough?” he worries but you shake your head. 
“you know i love it” you reply with a quick peck to his now perplexed face. he doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. 
“i just got emotional..you know” 
a small smile of relief breaks into Yoongi’s face, stroking your naked back while you’re both coming down from your highs. 
“i’m glad you’re here” he whispers, kissing your forehead. you don’t fucking know why you're suddenly emotional but it could be because of oxytocin flowing through you right now.
“the seesaw acoustic made me cry” you sniff, nuzzling Yoongi's clothed chest that’s a bit damp now, mixed with sweat and your tears but neither of you mind it.
“why? the lyrics still?” 
he did remember you crying after hearing it for the first time years ago, the lyrics being the sole reason of it.
“it’s just.. i don’t know, it reminds me of when you guys were touring before” you admit, melancholy in your voice while you reminisce watching his solo performance during their last world tour as a group. 
“thank you” he pauses, looking away from you. “for staying with us after all these years”.  he takes your hand and plays with it as he says those words.
you adore this side of Yoongi and now you feel bad for doubting him earlier. meeting them years ago and staying this entire time meant a lot of hardships that you went through together with the rest of his members.
“i miss all of you together” you give Yoongi a quick peck on his heated cheeks before giggling, all the sadness gone at the sight of him blushing. he sits up right away and grabs your face to do the same on your lips before lifting your body off of him.
“you see each of them all the time more than i do, i’m jealous”
he gets up, pulling off the used rubber before picking up your clothes that he threw around earlier. he emerges in front of you after, wet wipes in his hand as he parts your sore legs.
“who knows, maybe me and Jimin will drop by” 
he stops, letting out a snort and you raise a brow at him, mind suddenly alert to the possibility.
“he’s coming right?” 
“idk babe” he’s got that teasing smile and you wanna cry. 
“yoonggiiiii..”
“is this why you came here?”
“no” 
you’re back to sulking because the boys won’t tell you anything either. it’s something they’ve all kept a secret cause even Jimin won’t budge earlier when you tried to get the answer from him during pillow talk. 
however, Yoongi surprises you amidst your sulking when his head’s suddenly between your legs, licking up a stripe of your swollen folds, causing you to whine at the sensitivity.
he knows you’re tired so he stops your hand from grabbing his damp hair.
 “later” he mutters, licking his glistened lips as he wipes your pussy. 
you didn’t reply, still lying down on the couch while trying to put your bra, panties and leggings back on. getting up would be impossible so you wanna stay on the couch for a bit to cool down.
“i wanna surprise everyone okay? and you’re always on stan twitter”
he gives up, grinning at you with that adorable gummy smile before grabbing another glass of whiskey on the table. 
then instead of wearing it back, you throw your merch shirt at him.
“YOU GET DEETS BECAUSE OF ME” you yell, earning a deep chuckle from Yoongi.
then he pulls out his phone and takes a picture of you, sending it to your group chat with a thumbs up caption. the others surprisingly replied immediately, with Jimin responding with a wink emoji.
oh they will pay for this.
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e/n: it's been a long time lmao how are y'all? btw i wrote this during those two days and haven't opened it in almost a year now so 😂
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aaagustd · 13 hours
Text
room for two | jjk: prologue
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a series from the "Misfit Parent Collection"
⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon
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title: room for two
pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader
genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+
summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way. 
Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.
wc: 1.7k
warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything 
release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est
note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!
series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3
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One year ago.
The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure. 
Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs. 
His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze. 
When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.
If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert. 
Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.
Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public. 
Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.
Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position. 
Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.
Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.
Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see. 
Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.
"Coward!"
He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.
Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.
With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.
So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he. 
A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.
He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days. 
Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.
Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.
He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers. 
He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.
Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.
He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.
Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.
He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar. 
Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.
The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.
"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.
With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink. 
While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.
Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…
His assistant?
The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.
6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?
He doesn't have to.
Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there. 
He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.
Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable. 
Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.
7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few
After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.
"Tab or no?"
"No, love. That's it for me.."
He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.
"Keep what's left," he insists.
She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.
As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.
"What the—"
"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.
She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.
"She's trying, but…"
Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.
"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"
She declines.
"It's on me, sweetheart."
Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.
Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.
He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.
The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."
The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—
His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
Once again, the number is unknown. 
Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.
Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.
"Hello?"
"Hi, son."
Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success. 
"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"
He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.
"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh. 
He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.
"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"
"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."
There's a pause.
There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.
"He's dead."
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Text
WHO AM I??
Hi baby
I’m going to talk a little bit about myself
I don’t wanna reveal too much
My face and everything else will remain anonymous for safety and privacy💕
Name:
My name is Honey(yes this is my birth name lol)
You can call me by my name or honeybee
Or even honeycomb
Do NOT call me beehive 😡
Unless it’s related to Beyoncè💕
Age: 23
Topics:
I discuss the void state, Law of assumption,Reality Shifting (I haven’t talked about this yet but will if you need more info)
And All kinds of Manifestation methods
How to talk to Honey!!!
Just dm me any questions I don’t take asks anymore so if you have any questions just feel free to dm me
Ethnicity/Nationality
My mom is Afro Peruvian, Indian,and Haitian
My dad is Jamaican
Sooo
I’m black hehe🤟🏾
I don’t do these I’m super private it’s soooo weird omg
What do I like??
Music food animals
Did I say music because
MUSIC!!!!!!
My favorite artists
I love all kinds of music
Even death metal occasionally
I like Harry Styles,Kid Cudi,Lady Gaga The Beatles,Ice Spice and many moreeeee
I also love movies
Literally almost any kind
But anyways
Let’s talk about something more interesting!!
Now that you know me(kind of)
I want you to know about this technique I discovered
It’s not new at all
In fact ppl on here have already talked about it I’m just late
As usual 😔
Anywayyyyyy
There’s a technique I want you all to try
It’s called the
“Wim hof breathing”
Method
No methods are needed But if you really want one
Then here you go pookie
(Found this on a website but it won’t let me copy the link😔)
WIM HOF BREATHING METHOD
Find a comfortable position.
Breathe in deeply through the nose or mouth and through the belly to the chest. Then let the breath go unforced.
Exhale through the mouth, then immediately breathe in again.
Take 30–40 such breaths in short bursts.
Take one final, deep inhalation then let the air out and stop inhaling. Hold the breath until you feel the urge to breathe again.
Inhale very deeply to full capacity and hold for 15 seconds, then let it go. This completes the first round.
Repeat the whole process, steps #2-6, 3-4 times.
After completion take time to meditate and enjoy the state of deep relaxation
After the very last step you should be a deep trance like state you should be really relaxed
I recommend that you let your next subliminal play
Which should be
Either a theta or epilson wave track or pink noise
Make sure your desired subliminal that plays after is Not a guided meditation you wanna still be in a trance
Start affirming in that point
And don’t stop
Just feel how relaxed you are feel that powerless body but powerful mind
Your body is at ease your soul and mind collide in such ways that allows you to breathe freely without any stress no harm
In the void state
Your main goal should be getting peace
Because if you’re entering just affirm
You’ll likely put it on a pedestal you’ll get frustrated and give up
It is not a wish granter bitch
It’s you
Baby you are powerful
Baby you are pretty
Baby you can tap in the void
And make the bring the 4D to your 3D and make it your home
Don’t use the void as a wish granter
Use it for peace
Don’t treat the 3D like the enemy
Treat it like a friend
After all it exists the way it does because of your assumptions
Whether you say this is hard or this is easy
Sugar, you’re right either way
Because if you assume something then that’s how it’ll be
If you think you’re pretty you’re pretty
But if you think you’re broke
Then you’re broke
If you think you’re rich
Then you’re rich baby
You could have wings
Superpowers
Be the biggest singer or rapper in the world
Star in the next Dune Movie
Be best friends with Ariana Grande
Be a Scientist
Be smarter than Albert Einstein(I mean was he actually super intelligent if he lacked common sense)
You could be get a bigger butt!!
I mean didn’t necessarily have a pancake ass
But I definitely didn’t have a Nicki Minaj
BUT I DO NOW!!!!
And bestie you can too!
Plastic surgery who???
Do we look like a Kardashian-Jenner?? I think the f not🙄
The void is our plastic surgeon
You wanna a smaller nose?
Got it
Tig ole biddies?
Got it
Nicki Minaj butt?
Got it
Floor length hair?
Got it?
Whatever you want to change about yourself
Got it!
And for the last time babies
You ALWAYS ENTER THE VOID EVERYTIME YOU SLEEP
Mentally just be
Physically sleep
In that moment baby
Forget the 3D and its fuck ass bob
Because the 3Ds not your enemy but its your puppet
You’re a ventriloquist CONTROL THAT MF
The 4D is you
The void is you
Quit saying what you can’t do babe
You CAN BECAUSE YOU ALREADY DID AND YOU STILL DO
“HoNEy I StiLL didNT gET inTO tHe vOiD”
YES YOU DID!!!!!!
You did it
You just didn’t know
Bro the void is just recognizing you’re asleep
And getting in contact with your mind
Which is where you already go when you go to sleep
So ha
Billie
There’s your answer
When we fall asleep
That’s where we go
The mf Void State
The only thing your cute ass has to do baby
Is just be aware
When Neville Goddard says just “BE”
Bitch just BE
That’s it
Be aware
Like that SpongeBob episode
“Be the crane”
Be the Void
It’s just you love
So why you stressing
Why complicate something YOU created?!
Baby girl make it make sense
Own your power bitch
I love you My darlings
Month is almost over
Bring me my success stories
Or I’ll be your sleep paralysis demon 😈
(Just kidding)
Or am I;)
NOW BITCH LOOK!!!!
YAYYYY
Imma keep pressuring you to listen to this(NOTE YOU DO NOT NEED SUBLIMINALS)
But I like this one🫠
Wrong emoji
I can’t find that cute one at the moment I’m rushing cuz I wanna eat my burger!
SLADE:
https://youtu.be/oKU8YIicYQg?feature=shared
THIS
because it’s soooo peaceful
Slade is the best
BYE BITCH GO GET THAT DREAM LIFE NOW!!!
I love you ⭐️💕
youtube
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sugoi-writes · 2 days
Note
Biting back the urge to say 'fuck it' and come off anon cause I keep finding gif-sets that would work perfectly for Smutmus. I know why tumblr doesn't allow image/gif sharing while on anon, but goddammit! The visual aids do wonders for the parts I'm not articulate enough to write without sounding repetitive. 😩
But on that note: I've decided to just throw caution to the wind and do a reveal after this one! Just wanna play a bit more with what little editing mobile allows and get summaries of the Smutmus Holy Trinity put on a masterlist first~ ❤️
"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby?" You breathed out in between your gasps and moans. The corners of your mouth twitched upward as Alastor's thrusts became more and more animalistic with every 'slap!', every curse that bounced off the walls and invaded his senses. You just felt so fucking good! He couldn't help himself.
Removing his clawed hand from your hair, Alastor traced the point of his sharp nails down your back - reveling in the hiss that forced its way through your clenched jaw - to wrap around the curve of your ass, his other hand on your hip joining it on the opposite cheek. With a harsh squeeze followed by an equally hard slap, Alastor began to guide your lower body in sync with his own. Foreheads still pressed together, his eyes were locked with yours as both of you were nearing another release. "Yes, just like that! Don't stop!" He groaned, forcing your hips up and down, the sinful drag of his cock driving you mad.
"Gonna cum in this tight little pussy! M'gonna fill you up!" He promised, hips becoming more erratic as he chased that wonderful high - one he could never get anywhere else. Lifting your head just enough to look down between your bodies, salivating at the way his cock disappeared inside you. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Alastor to smack your ass once more, his other hand coming back up to grab a fistful of your hair and direct your gaze back to his face. "Look at me!" He demanded. The blissful sting of his hand pulling your hair made you clench around him even harder, if that was even possible.
"C-c'mon Al, give it to me!" You cried, heart racing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, splitting you in half on his cock. "Pound that pussy-! Nnghh-ohfuck, fuck! Harder Al! Pound my little pussy!" You continued to babble, your mind beginning to go numb as your mouth fell open in the perfect 'oh!' shape. You looked so beautiful like that, it was almost enough to make Alastor cum right then and there, but he held on. It was knowing that he was responsible for the ecstasy coursing through your veins that did it for him; your begging and your expression was tugging at what little restraint he had left.
Reaching up to pull his fingers from your hair, you lifted your upper body so that you were in an upright position once more - his hands returning to your ass cheeks, using them as leverage to bring you down harder and harder with each thrust. "Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!" Alastor commanded through clenched teeth, pounding up into you while watching your tits bounce in time with his movements. "Cum on my fucking cock! Do it, cum with me!"
You had wanted to drag this out a little bit longer, but the way Alastor was pounding into you at such an inhuman pace, your were nearly at your peak (as was he). Alastor watched your hand go straight for that little button in between your folds, rubbing harsh circles against it with the pads of your fingers. "That's it, that's it! Good fucking girl!" He praised you, his own mouth falling open at the sight before him. Arching your back slightly and throwing your head back, you clenched your eyes shut - a drawn out moan so lewd it could make a pornstar blush (Angel) coming from your throat. Your thighs quivered violently, unable to hold the pace any longer as your orgasm crashed over you like you had just stepped under the Niagra Falls - your fluids squirting onto his lower abdomen and dripping down his sides onto the sheets below, a small amount even pooling in the crevice of his navel.
Alastor struggled as the vice grip your heated mound had on his shaft made it damn near impossible to move; but he prevailed, fucking you through your release while chasing his own. His cock twitched inside you as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, his hips stuttering as he felt the first few ropes of his seed shoot into you. "M'cumming, m'cumming! Fucking-holy-! ... Oh my ffffuuu-!" Alastor shouted, this orgasm hitting him particularly harder than the rest. His shoulders came off the bed as his upperbody jerked forward slightly from the force of his orgasm, his own thighs quaking as he tried to keep his pace, determined to fuck you both through your individual highs straight into overstimulation.
Eventually his thrusts slowed and you removed your hand from that little bundle of nerves, placing both of your hands on his knees as you leaned back slightly, supporting your own weight on them. Your entire body would twitch and your hips would jerk away whenever the tufts of his pubic hair brushed against your swollen clit. Your chest heaved as you tried to come down from your high, but Alastor's shallow thrusts were making it difficult. "A-Al... baby please-" you tried to beg, but it was no use. You knew Alastor was deaf to the world the first few seconds after his release, so you could do naught but try to ride it out. But this time was proving to be more difficult than the rest.
Attempting to lift yourself off of his cock, you barely made it an inch when one of Alastor's tentacles wrapped around your waist, forcing you back down onto his still rock hard, drooling cock. "Ala-... Wha- Alastor?!" You cried out in shock, the overstimulation becoming almost painful as he forced your hips to grind back and forth with his hands. Your whole body was going to be covered in bruises and hickies come morning, and that thought alone had Alastor ready for another round. Grabbing hold of his forearms, you tried to get him to let go. "Al- just give me a secon-nah! Nngh! F-fuck!" But it was futile, as in the next moment you found yourself lying flat on your back in the same spot he once rested, his claws wrapped around the underside of your thighs and pushing them up against your chest - his dick not leaving your core for a single second.
"Oh darling... I'm no where NEAR done with you!"
I was wobbling so hard when I went to go grab a drink after this-- I fuckinh FELL. I FELL BECAUSE OF THIS POST.
ALSO WE HAVE A REVEAL SOON? I LITERALLY GONNA CRY-- OH MY GOSH I CAN'T WAIT??? AND GIFS, PICTURES, ACCOMPANYING THIS STUFF??? Phew. Guys, hold me up, HOLD ME UP
*Post Read*
F-First of all... how are you reading my mind? 🥴🥴🥴 Literally so many k-kinks in one post... the hair pulling? 😩💦 the nails? 😩💦 grabbing ass and using it as leverage? 😩💦 The commands/forcing us to look? 😩💦 Good Girl? 😩💦 Overstim when his legs are giving out??? 😩💦😩💦😩💦 HHHHHHHHH MINK AND HAZEL I FEEL LIKE MAKING A WHOLE ASS ESSAY ON THIS
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S-Second... HOW? How do you write this stuff and not pass out? I'm clutching my pearls, I'm staring at the ceiling, and my legs are twitching. My throat is dry, my voice is groggy from waking up, but I want to SCREAM.
I- I can't IMAGINE how you must feel when you write this???? JFC?
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I don't think you've realized what you've done 😩💦 You have rights to my estate, you have my soul, you have my crops, fuck it, you can have my cat Nugget when I die from the heart attack I'm about to have--
UGHN!! AAAAAAAA SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD. BARK BARK BARK
If no one has told you today: you're so fucking awesome. And you deserve to have your mind blown and turned to mush from being dicked down 😩💦
☄️❤️Anon I fucking LOVE YOU. 😭💗
@hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely ....what's worse? THERE'S ALREADY A SECOND PART IN MY INBOX!!! SEND THE POLICE. IM GONNA NEED A WELLFARE CHECK
We wish you a Merry Smutmus, and a Happy Nude Year!
(Gif below was my exact reaction, when I woke up screaming to this post)
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euijoosorangeslice · 19 hours
Note
are you taking sunoo smut reqs? can i req reverse idol au where (dom)sunoo is the reader’s fan who catches her eye during a concert & it leads them fucking backstage?
kim sunoo x reader
V. I. P
you were doing your encore stage, in your tight skirt and small top with frills all over. being a solo artist, you practically could wear whatever you’d like at your concerts. you sat on the edge of the stage, dangerously close to all your fans. waving at them as you sang, you leaned in to one in specific. he had beautiful blonde hair, and the most gorgeous face you could have ever seen. you two held eye contact, watching him smirk as he licked his lips
you giggled, leaning forward and tugging on his collar. you pulled out a marker, writing your number on his white button up, with a small smiley face at the end. you pulled away, on your knees on stage and finished your song. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop gravitating towards his presence. it had to have been a once in a lifetime experience to meet someone as beautiful as him.
as the show came to a close, you gave your fans one last goodbye as they were leaving the venue. of course, you rushed backstage to check your phone. just as you arrived, your phone began to ring. you chirped in excitement, picking it up immediately.
a sweetly toned voice began speaking from the other end. “hey beautiful. im at the back door waiting, if you want to put my v.i.p pass to use.” you giggled, opening the back door to reveal that same sexy, blonde devil from earlier. you pulled him inside, going into one of your changing room that you used in between sets.
he smashed his lips against yours harshly, feeling up your thighs as you whined in his grasp. his firm grip on your inner thighs made you feel hot, almost grinding into the touch. you opened your eyes, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to feel a little more pleasure. he chuckled, removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt that was holding his jeans up. “let’s see if the sex is as good as you look.” he muttered, rubbing the back of your thighs. he lifted you onto a nearby table, placing you on the edge.
but by now, all you could think of is how nice he would feel inside of you. without thinking, you pulled off your panties (which were already pooling with your arousal), and lifted up your skirt to reveal your core to him. the room was cold, which made you shiver from the feeling against your folds. things were moving fast, but you didn’t have any complaints. he began kissing your thighs, licking and sucking as you tried to resist the temptation to moan.
“i can tell your holding back, baby. just let me help you relax.” he whispered, rubbing your folds slowly. he spread your legs even farther as he dipped his head down and began licking up all of your slick. you pushed his head deeper in, relishing the feeling of your heat being eagerly sucked at. “please, please make me cum.” you begged, voice high as you stuttered out another moan. this couldn’t be real. this had to be some weird dream you were having.
he sucked your clit, slipping one of his fingers inside of you and pumping it in and out repeatedly. your legs began to shake, pleasure increasing as he added another finger. “never thought you’d taste this sweet.” he spoke against your clit, making you whine and roll your hips. “more, more.” you chanted, brain corrupted from the nature of your actions. no dream could ever imitate the feeling of his plush lips against your clit. he looked up at you through your legs, your body tensing.
his fingers sped up inside of you, making you almost cry from pleasure as you came. your legs shook harsher than ever, head falling back against the wall as you moaned loudly. you could only hear him steadily slurping as more and more of your juices began to leak out of you. before you could come down from your high, he dropped his boxers and slowly slid himself inside of your hole.
“so sorry, precious. i just couldn’t wait any longer.” truly, you had no complaints, since you have been wanting this for what felt like forever now. his slow pace was short-lived, because as soon as you reacted positively, he sped up. his hips rocked into you harshly, making you gasp for air as your body was pressed in between his and the wooden table. you moaned as he used his fingers to toy with your clit, making the table rock against the wall as he thrusted rhythmically. you weren’t the only one making sounds, because his grunts were almost louder than you.
you couldn’t believe how easily you had landed yourself here. getting dicked down by a stranger you had just met no more than an hour ago. but this stranger felt unmatched to any sexual experience you’d ever had, making you grab onto his shoulders as he rocked deeper into you. “yes, yes, ah- fuck yes.” you couldn’t stop yourself from repeating as he kept hitting deep inside of you. you noticed his movements becoming less organized, and by his groans you guessed he was getting close too.
“i-im cumming!” you squealed, feeling your orgasm slam across you like a rouge wave. the pressure that had built up in your abdomen had released, making you spray the man in front of you as you came. he let out one last moan, burrowing himself deep inside of your walls to finish. you dropped your body weight, the man holding you close to him. as you came down from your high, you started to admire his face a little longer. suddenly, realization hit you.
you had just let a complete stranger have sex with you before you even knew their name.
but as if he could read your mind, he spoke out.
“sunoo. kim sunoo. and you might want to think twice about letting random men fuck you unprotected.”
so this devil was in fact real, and he did have a name.
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Text
It took 2 people to fully convince Crosshair to do a 180 on the Empire - but neither of those people were Bad Batch members.
They couldn't be. What would a squad of defective clones who had been disobeying orders since day 1 know about loyalty to an institution determined to establish order for the good of the galaxy? What would they know about finding purpose in being "good soldiers"?
Now, I DO think the seeds of Crosshair's eventual defection were planted by his brothers. Hunter pointing out that "Blind allegiance makes you a pawn" and then telling Crosshair "All you'll ever be to them is a number" are statements that are proven later to be true. But it takes Cody and Mayday to drive the lessons home.
Cody and Mayday share several characteristics that place them in unique positions to influence Crosshair:
Both are regs who accepted and befriended Crosshair - Cody says he specifically asked for Crosshair for the mission, and Mayday is upfront and friendly to Crosshair right from the start. (Contrast this to the other regs getting up to move tables when Crosshair sits to eat, or the other clone troopers who walk past Crosshair to get onto the shuttle without even sparing him a glance.)
Both are commanders. (I believe Crosshair ultimately respects authority for the most part: even when he was arguing with and challenging Hunter in "Aftermath," he still deferred to Hunter's orders until his inhibitor chip was intensified and he was then promoted to commander.)
Both are loyal soldiers who have served the Empire well - again, these regs are still commanders even under the new government. And we all know how important loyalty to the Empire is to Crosshair at this point.
Both save Crosshair's life during their missions.
In short, both are regs, but they are still soldiers Crosshair can quickly identify with and trust.
I think it's key that Crosshair encountered Cody before Mayday, though. And despite their similarities, both soldiers drive home different points.
CODY
Cody is one of the few regs we know Crosshair already respected - and still respects, given that Crosshair almost smiles when he recognizes him.
(Some proof in case it isn't apparent: Crosshair goes from frowny face...
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...to relaxed almost-happy-if-you-squint-just-right face)
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Anyway, while Cody does drop some hints early on that he has doubts about the Empire, he is willing to carry out the mission to rescue "Governor" Grotton, showing he will follow orders to a certain extent. However, he shows more restraint than Crosshair might have: he doesn't attack the civilians despite their obvious mistrust of the soldiers, he comes to an understanding with Tawni Ames, he's NOT willing to follow an order to execute her, and he is clearly dismayed and disappointed by her death.
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And so, at the end of a "successful" mission, Cody more plainly reveals the depth of his dissatisfaction with following orders against one's own moral scruples:
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Hunter had said "Blind allegiance makes you a pawn." And Cody, unwilling to blindly and unquestioningly be a pawn - or act like a battle droid - any longer, goes AWOL.
But that lesson alone isn't enough to make Crosshair turn on the Empire. Instead, he needs Mayday to give him the final push.
MAYDAY
First, Mayday indicates how appalled he is by the idea of anyone leaving their own behind - which we know is a sore spot for Crosshair. But most importantly, Mayday has demonstrated since he was first introduced that he strongly believes in soldiers being loyal to and looking out for each other (which is far different than just being loyal to the Empire).
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Second, Mayday unknowingly challenges Crosshair's belief that serving the Empire provides meaningful purpose. (Remember that one of Crosshair's main arguments to his brothers about joining the Empire was so they could "find purpose again.")
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Then, he unwittingly goes for the jugular and rips apart the motto Crosshair had adopted.
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And then, in case Crosshair has any lingering doubts about the answer to Mayday's rhetorical question, Nolan decidedly answers the question for him.
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Hunter had said "All you'll ever be to them is a number," and he is proven right in the most heartbreaking way.
Crosshair had accused his brothers of not being loyal to him; unfortunately, now he sees what true disloyalty looks like. And for Crosshair - severe and unyielding - realizing that he has misplaced his loyalty by giving it to an entity that mocks him and casts him AND those he cares about aside for doing so... this is the final straw.
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Thankfully, Crosshair has now rediscovered the people who are worthy of his loyalty.
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txraos · 3 days
Note
hello, may I please request yandere mark with an alien s/o whose planet was conquered by the viltrumites. Thank you and Have a wonderful day
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Yandere!Mark Grayson + Alien s/o (Gn reader) WC : 533. CW's : Yandere!Mark, mentions of violence, manipulative/sweet Mark, Stockholm syndrome (? if u squint maybe?)
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When the Viltrumites conquered your planet you knew you didn’t had a choice but to behave as complacent as possible to avoid getting in any kind of trouble, Viltrumites were merciless and left no room for mistakes. One day a Man from Earth who called himself “Invincible” came accompanied with a defense team against the Viltrumite, he acted as your savior, helping you escape that place. He convinced you to leave your planet behind and everything you had to run away to a better place with him. “i promise i will keep you safe, your planet just isn’t anymore” bittersweet words resonating trough your mind after bearing so much since the arrival of the Viltrumites, you didn't even think about it twice, the promise of a better life was enough for you.
When you arrived to earth with him, he revealed his real name to you as a way to gain your trust, he showed you the beauties of earth, how simple could life be, and it worked, it brought you closer to him. Mark took care of you, he relocated you on earth, he managed to get you a place where you could live comfortable and safe, he installed cameras in every room and outside of the house, he swore it was just to keep you safe, what if someone wanted to break into your house?
Mark showed you the beauty of earth, but he also told you about how awful people can be, no different than the Viltrumites, or even worse, people who like to pick on the weak for fun, to beat them up and record it just for fun. “This sure can be a wicked place after all but don’t worry, that’s why I'm here” Mark said with a warm smile after noticing that just those words were enough to keep you tied to this place. “Dont ever leave this place, ever. if you need anything call me and only me. You are safe here” Mark had completely prohibited for you to leave the place he arranged for you, he says its for your own safety and protection, god forbid that Viltrumites come to earth and find you.
It didn’t took you long to fall for him, how could you not? He was a dream man, he took good care of you and he even gave you a new life. Mark spends too many hours taking care of you, checking on you, visiting you, he almost doesn’t let you do anything by yourself. “What would you be without me?” He said as he caressed the sides of your face “You would probably be dead” chilling words but he sure means no harm by that, after all, he’s right, you would be dead without him, at best you would be still serving the Viltrumite against your own will.
No words can convey how much grateful you are for Mark, you owe him your life, Mark had done so much for you that it became a natural obligation to put your trust in his word. In a place like this, there is no one better to take care of you than him.
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icycoldninja · 2 days
Text
Lab Visit (Sephiroth x Scientist!Reader)
(Set in Crisis Core)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sephiroth was due for a physical today. He was supposed to receive new Mako injections and stamina boosters, as per Hojo's orders. You, one of Shinra's top scientists, had been ordered to complete this procedure. While the very mention of such a task frightened your fellow scientists, you were not to be deterred. Sephiroth was a bristly, rather cold person, but he wasn't as cold to you, which could probably be credited to the little friendship the two of you had built. Over the years, Sephiroth's visits to the lab had brought you company, real company, not the ramblings of some deranged lunatic who lurked about in the shadows. Sephiroth was different, both physically and mentally, though you could never tell why. There was something about him that enabled his very presence to be both calming and terrifying all at the same time. Yes, the man could be nice at times, but there were several disastrous instances where he lashed out in anger at anyone who dared approach him with a needle or syringe, though when you did it, you were a different story. One could even say...he trusted you. This trust allowed you to do things to him no one else could, such as take samples of his blood without him going ballistic and destroying everything in the lab in a fit of rage--or possibly, fear.
"Y/N," A low, sinister voice intoned, as an old man with greasy black hair tied back in a low ponytail emerged from the shadows.
"Dr. Hojo," You greeted, feeling yourself tense under his menacing gaze. Of all the scientists--no--all the people in Shinra, Hojo was who you detested the most. The acts he'd committed were unforgivable. Turning your own assistants and fellow scientists into mutant creatures for "research"?! Unbelievable! Not to mention the things he'd done to Sephiroth before you'd even arrived. You hadn't even uncovered the details of what happened, but you knew it had to be bad.
Still, Hojo was your employer; he was paying your wages and providing you with opportunities to learn and grow your experience--as well as chances to talk to Sephiroth more often, so you had to grit your teeth and bead it.
"The subject will be here soon," He finally said, sounding rather giddy. "Prepare the equipment. I want samples of everything." You gulped, knowing full well that when Hojo said he wanted "everything", he meant everything. Skin samples, hair samples, sweat samples, and more. You barely finished gathering up your gear when a familiar figure trooped through the door.
"Dr. Y/N, how do you do?" You spun around, trying--and failing--to hide the grin on your face.
"General Sephiroth, a pleasure to see you again. Do have a seat." Sephiroth nodded before tugging off his leather trench coat, revealing his lack of underclothes. He hung the coat on a rack on the wall and took a seat on the hospital-style bed you'd prepared for him. From the corner, Hojo watched, a devious glint in his eye. You busied yourself with gathering up vials and beakers, and such, while the two men glared at each other silently. After several minutes, Hojo departed, presumably to slither back into whatever hole he crawled out of, leaving the two of you alone in the room. Almost instantly, the tense mood was lifted.
"I can't believe you can put up with him," Sephiroth sighed, crossing his bare arms. You shrugged, sterilizing a needle with alcohol.
"Believe me, I'm trying very hard not to throw something acidic at his head." Your eyes met, smirks both plastered on your faces.
"I would like to see you do that," Sephiroth chuckled, extending his arm for you to prick.
"And to do so would be my dream come true," You responded, gently pricking his arm with the needle and drawing a few small drops of blood.
Sephiroth nodded, a smile on his face as he relaxed into the hospital bed. Over the course of the next hour, you collected all the samples Hojo would need for his sick creations, and once the Mako infusion drip was in, you were both free to chat, about work, about your own personal lives, about everything. Throughout the entirety of this short visit, Sephiroth looked happier than you'd ever seen him, even though he was in a place he hated. He was happy with you, and you were happy with him.
Once the infusion was complete and Sephiroth was free to leave, he did so reluctantly, for the only reason he braved the nightmares of this lab, the only reason he subjected himself to experimentation, was so he could see you.
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ataraxiaspainting · 3 days
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Can you write for black swan as a yandre?
Lovers Forever, Until The World Falls Down.
Yan Black Swan x F Reader.
Synopsis: Her tarot cards are just as well used to predict the past as they are to predict the future.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, major spoilers for Honkai: Star Rail 2.0 and 2.1 Updates, implied stalking, and mentions of violence/character deaths.
Word Count: 1.3k.
*~*~*~*
When Black Swan’s eyes first lay upon you, she has multiple impressions of you.
The Remembrance has caused her to have manifolds of judgments, some lapses and others more thorough. But never once did the Remembrance ever cause her to be so deeply enveloped in someone that she would proudly showcase what Fuli has blessed her with.
She knows what you are, all of you. Your past, present, and future… all of it is seen within the eyes of the Garden of Recollection.
It is only natural for her to want you to know her as much as she knows you. With social creatures comes the need to connect. When it comes to Black Swan, her wants and her needs are equally important, and thus she has no need to separate them.
“What brings you to me, fair maiden? What ails you?”
The only sounds that arise from you are slight grumbles, and the only fresh sights she has of you are fading tear stains on your cheeks. As a response, she repeats her words softer this time, crosses one of her legs over the other, and rests her head on one of her gloved hands.
“I want…” You start, clenching your nails into your palms so deep they almost bleed. “To know the… thing that killed my friend, Memokeeper.”
In her other hand are a few of her beloved tarot cards, tucked so lovingly between her pointer and middle fingers. 
“Ah,” Black Swan lets out a sigh so gentle you do not hear it. “I presume you are speaking of Miss Robin?”
You nod, looking down at your lap as she lays out the cards in a simple, singular motion on the table.
“Who else would I be talking about?” Your tone is that of an angry hiss, but she knows it is not directed at her. For you, you two had only just met. But to her, with the powers that come with the followers of the Remembrance, it feels like she has known you your entire life.
Black Swan’s gaze is all-seeing, and nothing that is not in the dark can be unseen once she has seen it–even when she wishes it were otherwise, like that dance she had with that Galaxy Ranger.
She wishes now that perhaps she was dancing with you instead.
“Pick a card,” The Memokeeper requests, her now free hand gesturing towards the sight she had just made. “We’ll continue from there.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head slightly as she closes her eyes for a moment. From that expression on your face, she can tell that you have to stop yourself from scoffing at her. “Just trust me; I don’t mean any ill will towards you… and nor will I harbor any.”
“I’ve heard odd things like this about you, Miss Black Swan, but I didn’t think they would have been true.” She knows the comment is not an insult, but it is not a compliment either. “Do people blessed by the Remembrance always act like this? I’m… just curious is all.”
When you point to the card on the center’s right. “Are you planning to replace me already? I thought we were getting along quite well…” 
She turns over the card as her palm faces you, and that causes you to loudly gasp. 
“The Eternal Freeze… Jarillo-VI.”
She turns over the card on the center’s left without asking you to pick another. She stifled a chuckle.
 “Cocolia Rand. A Silvermane Guard trapped in what looks to be a block of ice…”
One after the other, things are revealed. It is faster than either of you could catch your breath. It is faster than what you wanted it to go. It is not faster than the realization that hits when Black Swan connects all your memories into a perfectly completed puzzle.
“Stop it-”
“You have lost someone before, haven’t you?” She can imagine… no, presume, the suffocating atmosphere surrounding you, as you appear on the verge of gasping for air. “You couldn’t save them either… Am I right, Miss [First]?”
You don’t answer, but you don’t look angry anymore. Despite the venomous nature of her words, her tone manages to grow even gentler as she utters them.
“Despite everything you tried to do, you couldn’t save them… Who were they, if you don’t mind me asking such a thing, oh dear citizen of Belobog?”
You avert your gaze from her, once again opting not to respond. Black Swan patiently waits, arranging the cards in her hand to create a semi-circle. As a Memokeeper, she has acquired numerous lessons from the Remembrance, but the most valuable one is knowing the significance of patience.
The fingers that wrap around your own are both warm and freezing cold.
“My… partner.”
She tilts her head to the side, her lips pursing up into a kind smile. “Ah… I see… I didn’t know.” She lies. “I’m sorry for your loss. But… my apologies for saying this… if you couldn’t even save your partner from the blizzard, I believe you cannot avenge Miss Robin’s death.”
Your eyebrows simply furrow like she expected them to.
“For Peniconians, death is a grand illusion, a state of falsehood, something that is not supposed to exist within the Dreamscape… thus, something much more powerful than you or I or even the Family had to break the rules of the Harmony and become… well… Death.”
When Black Swan’s eyes look at new tears as they start to fall, she has only two impressions of you, the others fading away like an amnesiac’s memories.
“I don’t mean any harm when I tell you this. It is the truth, plain and simple.”
Her hand squeezes slightly against yours. Once again, you do not respond.
“You do not have to fight something you cannot defeat.” She scoots her chair slightly closer to your side of the table.
She is met by a few more moments of quietness before you ultimately choose to break the silence. “Her death will be in vain then. Just like theirs. I do not want to be a coward anymore.”
Another sigh escapes her lips, and once again it is not out of exhaustion but rather curiosity.
Her grin remains unwavering, just as she had taught herself to. “You were never a coward in the first place, dear.”
Black Swan continues to move her chair quietly, but not at all subtly, until your thighs touch hers.
“I really won’t be able to… at least help the Family?” You ask. “I am really not… useful?”
“You’re useful in other ways to the people you love and trust, and those who reciprocate.” Her initial judgment is that you require safeguarding from the dangers of the world. It is in your best interest, her best interest, to remain inside a safe and small space, as there is a risk of you inadvertently harming yourself while attempting to assist others.
“Am I?” You mutter, clasping your hands together. “Am I… really? People… really like me?”
She affirms with a slight movement of her head.
Black Swan's second opinion of you is that you pose too great of a risk to be released, as it would result in her being left alone without any chance of ever seeing you again.
It is selfishness that prevents her from showing the two remaining cards, both hidden elsewhere. One of which has the depiction of you dead, and the other has you smiling proudly as she watches from afar in hiding.
The Remembrance has taught Black Swan how to be many things, but it is Black Swan who has taught herself how to be selfish.
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thanksjro · 2 days
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More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End
Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.
Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.
Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this”.
Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the after spark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.
Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".
Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.
Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.
Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.
Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s so committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.
Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.
On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.
Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.
Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!
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Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:
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Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.
(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)
Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.
Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.
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Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.
Tailgate punched this guy so hard it cause a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!
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Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—
Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.
Today’s class consists of:
Minimus (old as balls, former high society)
Skids (the best at everything)
Brainstorm (literal genius)
Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)
Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)
Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)
Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)
Hound (former Primal Vanguard)
Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)
Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)
Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)
And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)
Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.
This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.
Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.
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The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.
Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.
Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:
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Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.
No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.
The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.
Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.
Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.
Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.
Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.
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To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.
Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.
Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.
Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.
Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.
Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.
Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.
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…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.
Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.
No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.
The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdose on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.
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Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.
Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.
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Let’s give him a hand, folks!
While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.
Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped on his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn’t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.
Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.
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Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.
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Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.
Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.
Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.
Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.
Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet at that point. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.
Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.
While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.
The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.
Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.
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Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.
Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.
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Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.
Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.
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Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!
Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!
Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.
Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.
It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.
Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.
Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.
Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.
Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH
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How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.
Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.
Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut lead Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.
Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.
Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.
The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.
As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.
That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.
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And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!
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astro-break · 1 day
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I've been sitting on this ever since the chapters came out but Kiriwo vs Iruma and Azz was actually a really good section? Both from a technical and a storytelling standpoint it was top notch and is an excellent case study of how far Osamu Nishi's writing has come
First off, its the first time both Iruma and Kiriwo are meeting face to face after the events of the Battler Party. And it only took 300-ish chapters. Of course its going to be impressive, but I kind of want to focus on what I really really love about these two chapters.
From a technical analysis, I absolutely adore the double page spread with Kiriwo breaking the panel to lean over and devour Iruma. Demons are the most powerful when they are their greediest and not even the foundations of the medium can stop Kiriwo. I also absolutely adore how the hand pointing into his mouth lands right over Iruma's terrified face, the outstretched hand as well boxing him in with no way to escape. It breaks the natural flow of reading manga, forcing readers eyes to jump from the first panel to the last immediately. Even the speech bubbles which also break the panels to bleed into the next are boxing Iruma in, leaving only Kiriwo as the only option. He's right. Right here. Into his mouth. That's the only direction the manga allows him to go. Not even Azz, who is logically right behind Iruma on the other side of the barrier, can't be seen. Its just them.
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One thing that Mairuma likes to emphasizes is eyes. Nishi likes putting in a lot of close ups of the face but eyes specifically is something she puts a lot of focus on. Of course, eyes are the only reliable way to tell if someone has returned to origins but eyes also change according to wicked phase. They are the windows to the soul, and whenever a hype moment occurs, the eyes are almost always a focal point to enhance the action.
The latter half of 303 really ramps this imagery up as eyes become one of the main focus points of the sequence. Iruma's watery eyes when he asks if its really Kiriwo, the concealment and subsequent focus on Baal's eyes as he looms over Princes Shura revealing his motives (also Shura covering her face up till Baal "saves" her is an interesting symbolic choice i might write about), the ever present return to origin markings on Kiriwo's eyes after declaring his intentions, and that final page is all about eyes. My favourite is the hiding of Azz's eyes as he breaks the barrier only to reveal them as he boldly says he'll stay by Iruma's side, eyes finally coloured in when up till that point in the chapter it was left white.
Speaking of panels though, Kiriwo is allowed to break past the gutters and invade other panels. His single minded devotion to consuming Iruma allows him to bend the laws to manga and lean right over. So logically, the next page where Azz saves Iruma, Azz who is consumed by devotion and is perhaps even more enamored with Iruma would do the same, no?
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Nope.
Despite everything, Azz is still trapped within the story and its confines. Not even his words break through the boundaries. The best he can do is close the gap between the gutters, squeezing the panels together as close as he can. He still lacks critical information and Kiriwo has and no matter how much he tires, without that he will always be a step behind his senior. Even all the power in the world will not change that Suzuki Iruma is a fragile, fragile human.
As if to rub salt into an already gaping wound, Kiriwo's speech bubble at the end of the chapter literally shuts down Iruma's protests. Kiriwo is in control of the situation and his words take over the page. He's also drawn to be taller than Azz who is canonically about 10-15 cm taller
Control seems to also be a big theme/determining factor for whose words are allowed to transcend the metaphysical boundaries boxing them in because who else would be the one to quite literally dominate the next climatic moment than the unpredictable agent of chaos, Clara herself? The ringtone from her call quite literally cuts both Iruma and Kiriwo's words in half, drowning them out in her silliness. I remember seeing that a lot of people were upset that Clara interrupted Kiriwo but I argue that Clara is the perfect person for this? Master of funtimes and such a wildcard that she managed to seduce Raim through pure innocence? You can not tell me that you didn't laugh at the stupid fonts that Misfit Scans used for Iruma's ringtone. (Thank you Flare, whoever you are. Because I laughed. So hard.)
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Also KiriAzz's faces when they look at Iruma? Peak visual comedy
Clara calling is also just the breather that the story needed. Yes, she inadvertently protected Iruma's secret, but she also the most emotionally mature out of the Love Trio which I think so many people forget. Clara is super smart when it comes to her boys, she knows that off on their own, they're bound to get caught up in their own heads worrying and agonizing in silence. Clara knew to call her boys after the Devilculum because it would had undoubtedly been stressful mingling among the upper ranks. Of course she was lonely and wanted to know how her soulmates were doing but even if she knows it or not, she is their emotional center and grounds them when they drift too far into their own self flagellation. But more importantly, she grounds the story in its genre. Lets not forget, Mairuma is a comedy series. Devilculum Arc was quite uncharacteristically somber for the series which runs on comedy of errors and misunderstandings galore. Sure, the beginning of the Arc was kind of funny but once everyone stepped into the venue, comedy became secondary to the plot.
Would it have been interesting to see what would have happened if Clara didn't call? Of course, yeah. But I think thats better left explored in fanfiction. At the end of the day, they're the Love Trio, they are a tripartite. Do not separate. And even unknowingly, Clara's protecting Iruma in her own way. And because of that, she is given the power to take over the page, filling it with images of Magitools Batara and her own silly creations, flower shaped speech bubbles framing the members as they work towards their own ambitions. She is the one that reminds Iruma of his own goals, who reminds him that there are demons at home who are waiting for him, and who he too is waiting for.
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On a more aesthetic note though, I do like how Iruma's necklace this arc mirror's Kiriwo's collar. Its a very nice parallel but also acts as a way for Iruma to be connected to the people he's attending Devilculum with. The frilled collar on Ameri's dress and the Amosdeus Clan's rose brooch that both Azz and Amu have on their suits.
Idk how to end this ngl but I am completely normal about ch 303+4 the writing and set up is so so so good. I remember Misfits being so mad that others were translating the human part and I agree. Its so vital for the Love Trio and their relationship that their secrets are theirs to tell and not anyone elses. And the way these dynamics are portrayed through diegetic story telling is just perfect, I will never get over how good the KiriIru double spread is. Like those two pages specifically is my Roman Empire. I think about those pages on a hourly basis. I love that spread so much but 90% of what makes it so great is the surrounding context and the proceeding events. One day Nishi will probably top this and make me slobber all over her artistic storytelling but for today, I will continue to be consumed with thoughts about these two chapters.
One last thing but the fact that Iruma's secret got cockblocked from being revealed twice because of a phone call is just hilarious. Once is good enough but Narnia prioritizing a work phone call over warning his brother about what he sees as a great evil? He's so silly actually.
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sorryseraphim · 2 days
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needed release
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I'm just a girl, I need Enver Gortash to eat up my dark Urge, Helene after they asked everybody out of the office.
Read below:
(Also in AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55459897)
"If you just had, the slightest idea how to listen, and not just hear, we wouldn't be dealing with this concern right now!"
No one moved. No one even dared look at Helene's gaze as she looked over plans derailed by an inconvenience made by both her and Enver's people. It was one simple task: deliver a letter to Moonrise for Ketheric Thorm regarding their plan to snatch the Grand Duke, Ulder Ravengard.
Their plans were almost compromised, the stupidity of the persons tasked to deliver manifested during the journey to the gloomy fields of the Shadow Cursed Lands. They almost revealed themselves to a few passing fighters in green and brown. If it weren't for Helene's intuition that misfortune would strike and order a few more people to trail those who are tasked to go ahead, they'd experience unimaginable setbacks.
"You will not lay a finger on them," Enver grumbled, sitting opposite her by the table. He was trying to keep his composure in check, but he was also stressed. Rubbing his left temple as he listened to her outburst, her words getting louder and shrilly as she went on.
"I am a sorcerer, Gortash. I don't need to use my bare hands!"
"Everybody, out!" He finally shouted, his patience wavered, standing up from his seat.
Several nervous glances occurred around the room as Enver's order sank in. When nobody moved, Helene let out another roar.
"Whoever is still in this room after a minute would lose their head!"
In a flash, everyone shuffled out of the small dwelling they were gathered in. Enver walked up to her with long strides, his voice hushed with a hint of anger.
"Are you out of your mind?! Displaying your outburst like some kind of an ungrateful child?"
"Would you rather just have me kill them immediately, without question, without a word?" She fired back, fingers flexing on her side, a clear indication that her anger was at full throttle.
He hissed softly to his side before looking back at her with dark eyes. He rested his hands on her shoulders as he tried to push her down the table, towering over her. "Sit down on the table and relax. Let's talk."
"Let me think, Enver," Helene said, her hand on her right cheek, pinching herself hard enough to leave a reddish mark.
"I said sit down," he insisted, pushing her by the edge of the long table on which various reports and letters were sprawled out. His tone was striking, commanding in a sense that he would not take no for an answer.
She swatted his hand away, shushing him. "What the fuck are you doing? I said let me think!"
"Relax, Helene. I'll take care of it. Let me take care of you," Enver's tone suddenly switched into a whisper. He held her chin in one hand while the other traveled to her size, squeezing her curves gently. It immediately escalated to harsh grabs as it traveled down the dip between her legs, making Helene gasp in response, which Enver had immediately captured using his mouth.
Their lips meet violently, hungry for each other's warmth despite the pressing challenge they have yet to deal with. Just as Helene was deep in the kiss, his hand found its way in from the slits of her skirt, snaking its way between her legs. Enver let out a groan, voice hitching and amused at how wet she already was.
"Let me taste you, Helene... Gods, I want every bit of you for myself," Enver murmured in her mouth before he broke away, pulling a chair in front of her and sitting down. Without missing a beat, he slowly lifted the hem of her dress from her ankles, caressing her legs and kissing her bare knees up to her thighs. His lips touched her skin slowly and full of tenderness as he kept an eye on any signs of aggression she might pose in return for the gesture.
Her body began to melt in his touch, succumbing to the gentleness of his lips. Her nostrils stop flaring, yet her face is still red from anger. Slowly, her breathing shallowed, face softening as she looked down on him as he leisurely trailed his tongue up her thighs towards her tenderness.
She could feel his breath, heavy and feverish, against her skin as he neared her entrance. As if on cue, Helene lifted her entire skirt up to her waist as he started to part her legs, wide enough to push his face in and pleasure her.
He raised her leg up his shoulders to reveal her cunt, which was starting to get soaked as Enver rubbed her legs, his palms rough against her own soft body, the feeling of his hands making her shiver.
"Make it quick..." She breathed heavily, biting her lip as his lips brushed against her folds, her body tingling for the pleasure to come.
"I'll take care of everything; let me just take care of you right now,"
When his tongue made contact with her cunt, it was as if her burden was washed away. The weight of the world lifted from her shoulders as Enver devoured her, savoring every bit she gave him, her soft moans and sighs of bliss.
He pushed the tip of his tongue deeper between her folds, greedily tasting her wetness, as he grabbed her tightly by the waist. He could feel her softly squirming, legs trembling as he increased his pace. Enver could hear the slight hitching on her voice and her attempts to repress her moans as it started to get louder, enough for the whole room to hear.
Helene watched as he lifted his head for a bit, resting a hand on top of her womb as his thumb rubbed her clit, looking up at her as he lapped her entrance. It took everything in her not to whine desperately as another gush of her need rushed out. Helene let out a soft groan as she watched him look up, grinning from between her legs, half of his face drenched in her wetness.
She gripped the edge of the table hard when he went down again, this time desperate and with urgency. "Gods above... Enver, you're driving me mad..."
"Are you close?" He whispered between the act, sucking and lapping her juices as he picked up the pace.
She looked down at him, nodding quickly as she suddenly gripped his hair, tugging it desperately as she neared orgasm.
"Anything for you, my dearest," Enver whispered finally as he began rubbing her clit with haste as his tongue traveled the entire length of her folds.
She could feel it coming, about to burst and wash her body with ecstasy when they heard a knock on the door, followed by a soft rustling of the door knob.
In an instant, Enver stood up, hands off her body as Helene followed and straightened her stance, making sure her skirt was not bundled up her waist.
He took a few steps away from her, turning around momentarily to wipe his face off Helene's wetness as she shouted towards the door. "I did not ask anyone to come back yet!"
"But Priestess, we received word just now. Lady Orin has delivered urgent news."
"For fuck's sake..." She whispered, sighing, "Come in, and let us hear it,"
As their subordinates started to pour in, Enver noticed how her hands twitched on her side, making him smirk. She was subtlety displaying her frustration, an itch to murder someone who dared interrupt them just before she was about to reach orgasm.
He moved around the room, back to where she stood, and whispered, pointing out her fidgety hands to murder, to keep her cool and let patience take over as they discussed news brought by her blood kin.
"I am well," She hushed in return, "But whoever that is that interrupted us would lose their tongue in the morning. I'll take care of it."
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uhhisthisthingon · 2 years
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mutuals reblog with what your hair colour is! I’m curious :’)
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retrospectislame · 5 months
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HUH??
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