#my scenarios are always self-indulgent and i will Not apologize
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lol what if the first on screen byler kiss is actually like. a vecna induced hallucination on either of the boys. like . ohhhhh..... and then we as the audience is like. yas yeas yess yes !!! just to get fucking got . oh my god. i could see it happening to mike as like. a confirmation of his feelings and establishment to the GA of his Issues. especially coz like what if it's like the nancy bit where its not even clear if vecna is gonna like. kill him mikes just in the upsidedown and vecnas like... hey look at this 😈. oh Hell .
okay, listen. i LOVE these scenarios, but they're always ruined for me by the reminder that it would be vecna doing it. like when max thought she was hugging her mom and was instead hugging vecna, and when lucas was saying those mean things but when she hit him the illusion shattered and it was vecna. so like. if they kissed........ dbfjkhsbkfjhbds. you get me?
but! i do love the idea of the first confession going that way, which then prolongs the Actual confession. will is already in a weakened and fragile state going into season five, and i could see vecna preying on that just as he did in season two. on one hand, i don't think vecna is homophobic, but the way that he taunted max using lucas in their second interaction makes me think that he can get mean when trying to ensnare someone.
so maybe they're having a serious & intimate conversation together and mike says something incredibly heartfelt and sentimental as he often does, which makes us and will go AWWWWW 🥺🤧🫶💕💞 but then.. then.. mike gets mean. says something reminiscent of the rain fight's "what did you think, really?" + rink-o-mania's "we're friends! we're. friends." mentions how mike's life started after will went missing—that maybe asking him to be his friend wasn't the best thing he'd ever done after all. that this world would expect him to perform in its silly little play, just as it once asked him to, too. that there's no room for him here (no castle byers, the party joined hellfire club, he never received any calls or letters, etc etc), but... there would be room for him in their world. the one that they could build together, free of shame and hurt, where he would never feel like a mistake for being different. etc etc.
and as for mike... first of all, "mikes just in the upsidedown and vecnas like… hey look at this 😈." I HATE THAT THIS IS LITERALLY HOW IT WENT? LMAOOOOO. made me giggle.
but omg back to business here. the way that i see vecna targeting mike... aughhhh. listen. liiiiiiisten. it'd be a matryoshka dolls situation. the party is working together, planning, and getting ready to defeat vecna. they feel good about it, or at least as good as they can right now, and mike is temporarily separated from will (otherwise will would sense vecna, i think). we know that he's worried, we know that he's trying very hard to keep his promise—that they will kill vecna. maybe he looks down at will's old dnd figurine or something of his that he left behind, and it's then that we hear a familiar voice.
vecna knows that mike is doggedly determined—that vecna needs to hit them here, where it hurts most, if he's to defeat them and get what he wants ("[you're] what holds this party together. [...] without heart, we'd all fall apart"). so, his attack is as follows: he goes after mike's leadership ability -> what kind of a friend he's been -> the lies that he's told & the truths he won't face, effectively reducing mike to a lying fraud and stoking his imposter syndrome.
he's not a leader. how could he be, when he isn't even a good friend? when all he ever does is hurt the people he "cares about the most"? always trying to prove something, always torn between two poles. vecna's known many actors like mike—people who think that playing by the rules in this play will save them, absolve them of the hurt they've caused. there's a reason he feels so guilty, a reason that only they are privy to. friends don't lie, and yet all he does is lie. he lies to his parents. he lies to his friends. he lies to his girlfriend. he even lies to himself. and he knows that... doesn't he? what a pity that "the heart" can't even listen to his own.
and then !!!!!! at that high point, when the seed has been planted and thoroughly watered, we jolt back to the present. mike is clutching part of will in his hand. he's shaken, but—but he has to be strong. he has to keep going. it's—it's not true. he is the heart. will told him he is, and—and will never lies.
... right?
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A drabble about Bingge realizing his children’s beloved Head Imperial Tutor has the same soul as the ‘nice Shizun’ from that other world he once visited could be fun.
“Local man must compete with his own children for the attention of their very cute teacher!”
ahhh i love scenarios like this!! pitting bingge against his own kids is always so fun lol, hope you enjoy!
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When Luo Binghe manages to find him, he isn’t even looking properly. He’s still spending his free time trying to find a way back into that weird mirror dimension, not scouring his world for anyone. After all, why would he look here? He already knows exactly where the Shen Qingqiu of his own world is; every bloody, rotten part of that body and soul is accounted for. Luo Binghe wants the other Shen Qingqiu, the one he’d gotten only a taste of, the one that had been so unfairly given to his doppelganger.
Perhaps, Luo Binghe thinks, watching through the doorway into the classroom his younger children use for self-study, he should have bothered to spend a bit more time looking at home before trying to force himself back into the mirror world.
“Ah, what are these tears?” One of the tutors is asking, tutting as if in disapproval even as he so gently wipes the face of one of Luo Binghe’s children. “You’re getting much better with your arithmetic, there’s no need to cry over a mistake now.”
The child hiccups, her little hands coming up to pull on the tutor’s robes, clearly trying to worm her way into his lap so she can wipe her face on his shoulder instead of on the perfectly fine handkerchief the tutor is trying to use.
Luo Binghe doesn’t even know which daughter of his that is. He doesn’t know who this tutor is, either, and yet -
The tutor raises his free hand up to pat soothingly at the child’s hair. He doesn’t try to unhook her hands from his robes, or stop her from shoving herself persistently closer to his person; he only pets her hair and wipes her face and tuts at her.
And yet somehow, Luo Binghe thinks, I’m sure that’s him.
It doesn’t make a great deal of sense to find this soul in a body unrelated to Shen Qingqiu, but at the same time it makes a whole world of sense to think of this kind teacher as someone entirely different from the cruel master Luo Binghe had grown up under.
Luo Binghe steps into the room properly, releasing the hold he’d been keeping on his qi to keep it held close to his body. The tutor looks up at the doorway, and frustratingly, the look of indulgence he’d been wearing just moments ago closes up. He stands and bows in unison with the other tutors in the room, and Luo Binghe flicks his hand dismissively so they know to ignore him and return to his duties.
The tutor - the kind Shizun’s soul - stands from his bow but does not immediately return to helping the girl he’d been working with. He only watches Luo Binghe a bit warily, clearly aware of Luo Binghe’s rapt attention on him, and continues to absently pat the hair of Luo Binghe’s daughter. The girl herself doesn’t seem to mind, as she’s managed to get close enough to the tutor to shove her face in his stomach and nuzzle in there, perfectly content and no longer crying.
Well, no matter; if this man is already aware of Luo Binghe’s attention, no need to hide it further. Luo Binghe approaches without hesitation.
“And what tutor has brought this Lord’s child to tears?” Luo Binghe asks after having reached the table that this tutor and child had been working at. He knows perfectly well that this man was not the cause of his daughter’s tears; he wants to know how he’ll respond anyway.
“This lowly one is Shen Yuan, my Lord,” Shen Yuan dutifully replies, and though he bows deeply he does not raise his hands from Luo Binghe’s daughter. “My most sincere apologies; I will accept punishment.”
Luo Binghe hums, satisfied. Good, he thinks, he’s already loyal to me. Very good.
Before he can say anything else, though, the girl buried in Shen Yuan’s robes shouts, “No!”
When Shen Yuan stands again, Luo Binghe can see his daughter peeking out, her face half turned away from Shen Yuan to glare up at Luo Binghe.
“No?” Luo Binghe asks.
“No!” She shouts again. Her demonic huadian flares, and Luo Binghe raises his brows - this girl really dares issue such a threat to her father, knowing who her father is?
Shen Yuan, seeming to catch the very same thing, quickly moves the hand that had been in her hair to cover up her demonic huadian. This does not stop the girl herself from talking.
“If you try to punish Shen-ge, I’ll stab you!”
“Ah, wait -” Shen Yuan protests, pressing the girl further into him as if that will hide her away. He glances nervously at Luo Binghe, expression a bit pinched, and then -
“Who’s threatening Shen-ge?!” Comes a cry from across the room.
“Someone’s threatening Shen-ge?!”
“Lord Luo is threatening Shen-ge!!”
Suddenly, it seems like half the children in the room are gathered up in Shen Yuan’s robes, clinging to him and glaring at Luo Binghe as Shen Yuan frantically tries to soothe them with head pats and hushed whispers of Ah, don’t yell at him, anyone else is okay, but don’t yell at him!
Luo Binghe watches, amused and irritated and hungry all at once. Clearly, this Shen Yuan is already a treasure of his palace, and he hadn’t even known it - his own children have found this man before he himself did.
Well, Luo Binghe thinks, watching Shen Yuan fluster more and more the longer Luo Binghe stays quietly watching the commotion, they may have him first, but I will be sure to have him last.
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Sleep | m.m
summary: she can’t sleep and he’s there to make sure she’s okay.
[originally intended as a Foreigner’s God one-shot, but i didn’t use my oc’s name in here so yea, do with it as you will]
a/n: this is a short Drabble I found in my Docs. Not proofread, just a cute lil something I wrote ‘cause I struggle with anxiety and I can’t sleep most of the time because of it. Self-indulgent. No use of y/n. No use of any other names. No warnings. Enjoy.
check out the Foreigner’s God series here.
“Hey, bug, what are you doing awake?”
“Just… couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Matt asked as he slowly entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him to block out the city sounds.
She laid there in his bed, dressed in nothing but his dress shirt and a pair of lace panties. Cotton felt like sandpaper on his skin, he had told her, so from there in, she stopped wearing clothing resembling the texture even in the slightest if there was a chance he would touch her where she wore the fabric. In bed, he often touched her everywhere, sexual or not. He needed to be close to her at all times, so she did the necessary sacrifice and threw out most of her cotton underwear.
The shirt smelled like him, like home. Whenever she wore it, she felt like she belonged somewhere in this vast universe. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Always choked up from the way her head worked against her, afraid of falling in love, afraid of not being able to love, until Matt came into her life. With him, she could finally breathe again. With him, she felt alive, she felt human, but in a way that made her want to be more.
“I’m sorry for staying awake, for worrying you,” she admitted quietly. “You know, the sorta thing you keep lecturing me for.”
“Oh, no. That’s not what I mean when I say you need to sleep. I don’t want to lecture you, not at all sweetheart, I just… I just want you to be okay.“
He sat down at the edge of the bed, gently cradling her head in his hands as he carted his fingers through her hair.
“What’s on your mind, hm?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just too loud. The world, the people, my thoughts… I can’t sleep ‘cause my mind won’t stop conjuring up the worst scenarios for the weirdest of things, like- like you and my friends and work and I… and then I can hear my heart ‘cause I get anxious from all the stupid thinking and y’know I can’t sleep if I can hear my heartbeat. It’s so loud, I can feel it in my bones. I really need you here, Matt,” the last part was barely audible. “You make it all go away, even just for a little while. That’s enough.”
He smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Can’t sleep without me?”
She shook her head, “No, ‘m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, I promise. Let me just get out of this suit and then I’ll cuddle you, okay?”
“‘kay.”
He kissed her forehead. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”
“I know,” she said. “I love you so much too.”
Her speech was slurred, the action of his fingers enough to slowly lull her into a state of bliss. She was oh so tired.
“Here,” he kissed her forehead, “I’ll just be gone two minutes, and I’m leaving the bathroom door open in case you need me.”
“Thank you.” She leaned into his touch.
“I love you.”
“Why do you keep saying it?”
“‘Cause I really need you to believe it, bug. I know you struggle to most of the time, but it’s the truth. I really, really love you. So much.“
“I can’t help it. Never been loved before.”
He looked sad all of the sudden. “You deserve so much better.”
“No, I do. I deserve you,” she told him. “Only you.” Her eyelids fluttered. He wasn’t sure if she was aware of what she said, but his heart swelled nonetheless.
“You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you. I know that.”
“You’re the love of my life, Matthew, and you’re enough for me. You’re all I need. You’re my world. I don’t need anything but you. And even though it scares me, I’m so happy you’re here.”
“You’re enough for me too,” he whispered, too choked up by her bare confession to think straight. She had never actively told him that before.
Her heartbeat slowed down, breathing now even. He smiled again, tears in his eyes. Lips connected with hers, then her nose, then her forehead. Subconsciously, she smiled in her sleep, nuzzling further into the pillow and it was the cutest thing. He felt so happy in that moment, and relieved. He was relieved that she existed and that he had her and that she was alive – he craved her like air, he craved her like water. She was everything to him. Without her, he had no reason to wake up in the morning, no reason to keep going. She was his lifeline.
When he got up to get undressed and slip into bed beside her, finally, after such a long day, she grabbed his hand.
“Be right there, bug,” he said. “Told you, not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She wasn’t even lucid enough to realize. He squeezed her hand, then let go. Taking off his clothes, he wondered how he got so lucky. And when he felt her body mold against him, head in the crook of his neck and curling like a koala bear, he finally came home, where he always wanted to be.
#matt murdock#daredevil#matt murdock imagines#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x afab!reader#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock drabble#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock angst#hurt/comfort#human disaster matt murdock#marvel#matt murdock x female!oc#matt murdock x oc#drabble#netflix daredevil#mcu#reader insert#anxienty
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southern nights
|| main masterlist ||
okay y'all. . . hear me out on this. . . i know southern nights by allen toussaint/glen campbell came out in the 1970s but it's sooo rdr2,, moreover i cannot HELP but think ab it in conjunction with my lovely rugged cowboy(friend) arthur morgan <3 also this is lowkey kinda long but i love it with all my heart so pls b gentle w meee
i will say that this is pretty self-indulgent and wrote it with the idea of a female reader (specifically for like one detail) so if this isn't what you're looking for i apologize :(
so like.. imagine this song playing at either camp from dutch's gramophone or at a bustling saloon in like saint denis (honestly what i imagine more in this scenario so that's what we're rolling w here) and the whole gang is there either drunk or tipsy or whatever
you've always had a thing for arthur as long as you can remember but always kept it to yourself because you'd actually die if it got out- you'd absolutely never hear the end of it from all the women and you'd hate if arthur got teased for it by the men
so you get a couple drinks in you and for most of the night you've been sitting by mary-beth and sadie while the other girls have been up on their feet all night dancing to all the other songs
every now and then your eyes wander to arthur and you smile at how cute he looks when he smiles and laughs with the other guys like john and charles and javier
and how handsome he is with his new short haircut and how he's dressed in all black with his sleeves rolled up and a few buttons left undone that exposed his chest in a way that made your cheeks warm up
and how the lighting also makes him look ten times hotter as if you didn't believe he could get more attractive???? but clearly it was possible
so when the song comes on everyone just lights up and gathers 'round and you see that molly and dutch are clasped together and so are john and abigail and the rest of them find their rhythm in the music
normally you'd frown at when even sadie and mary-beth left you to go join but you had enough alcohol in your system that it didn't even phase you
in fact, you were smiling and giggling at all of them, seeing that this was your family- as fucked up it got sometimes- and for once, everyone was able to let loose
and just when you thought that you were safe on the sidelines tonight, arthur swoops in and holds his hand out to you with the sweetest look
"c'mon, s'no fun without you!"
he makes you laugh when you hesitate by saying you get a free pass to step on his feet if it's the dancing part you're worried about
which it's not but you'll use the excuse and take his hand that perfectly encases yours
he throws you both right in the middle of it all and takes the lead into a foxy routine* which you fall into very easy, because again, it wasn't dancing that was the issue
and he seems to pick up on that very quickly but doesn't say anything because he's so focused on making sure he doesn't step on your feet and holding you and twirling you around and being enamored by how your skirt flares out every time like a princess
at one point when he pulls you back in after twirling your body is pressed right against his briefly and you don't notice the way he gets a little flustered because of.. well.. everything else going on
but his grin remains wide and he feels a flutter and ache in his chest and its not because of the alcohol
more than halfway through the song you get a little boost of confidence and slide your hand over his shoulder to wrap your arm behind his neck and you know it affects him by the way his arm snakes around your waist more
and you're both oblivious to how the whole gang immediately notices your proximity and how all the girls are giggling together while the guys are looking on with wicked smiles cause they know their boy's been sweet on you for a hot minute yets been too scared to be bold ab it incase you didn't feel the same (which couldn't be farther from the truth)
and once the song ends neither one of you really want to pull away but you do and he absolutely refuses to leave you alone for the rest of the night because he knows that something's started and he's determined to finish it at the end of the night before tomorrow comes and washes it away
so if you want another drink? it just so happens that so does he. he actually goes and either gets one with you or for you at the bar
you wanna talk to the girls? oh, he'll be around them too, taking all their (light-hearted) jabs at him just so he can be near you
when the gang rounds up again in a circle just to simply drink and converse, he's right there at your side again, standing so close his shoulder is constantly brushing against yours
and because you've all perhaps over-indulged in some adult beverages, of course you find yourselves huddled together and up in each other's personal bubbles, leaning in real close when someone talks because that's what everyone does when they've drank too much
so arthur places a gentle hand on your back to make sure that you're just in the circle as much as everyone else is, but also because he just really wants to keep you connected somehow
before you know it, you're relaxing into his shoulder as his hand rests on your waist again and it just feels so damn normal. like this is how it's always been
you feel yourself slipping and giving in, but you know he is too because of how you can feel his heart thumping against you and damn near out of his chest
while he enjoys the company and the time being had together, he feels the night dragging on and he's so desperate to get you alone
and he finally thinks he gets the chance when dutch hints at the idea that they should start rolling out to get back to camp and feels a nervousness building up
but you catch him off-guard when you take his hand and sneak away through a sidedoor to an alley while no one is looking and he laughs out of pure surprise
"what're you doin?"
"well one, i don't wanna leave yet. two, i know that wagon ride home is gonna be downright loud and obnoxious. and three, i'd rather be with you, so... walk with me?"
you're all smiles and so is he, and you stroll aimlessly around the town that seems to be busy at all hours of the day, hand in hand
you find yourselves near the outskirts of the town near the river when he starts to speak up and tell you how much fun he had and how good it was to see everyone getting along, as well as poking at you for being so hesitant to get up and dance since you did so well with him
you agree with him on the first two things and simply brush off the last bit, insisting that you had no idea what he was talking about, but you both knew it was just an act
he starts to say something else and then goes quiet and slows down, slightly tugging your hand to bring you back to him, which causes you to look at him with concern
he's trying to find the right words to say that every time he sees a pretty flower he wants to pick it and give it to you
that every time he leaves camp he makes it a point to see you last just so he can see your face and hear your voice because he doesn't know how long it'll be until he can do it again
that he notices every little thing you do and has written so many things for you and about you in his journal
that when you look at him, he doesn't ever want you to look away
and you're not making it any easier on him by looking ridiculously adorable while being incredibly confused and concerned, your eyebrows knitted upwards with expressive eyes that are twinkling under the dim street lights
he's fumbling over his words but you're able to piece them together little by little, a sweet smile growing on your lips as his hands are fidgeting with yours
"arthur-"
he snaps his head up at you thinking he's crossed the line, but the fear eases when he sees that you're grinning at him and slowly closing the space between you two, placing your hands on his chest
the corner of his lip curls up and his eyes are flickering between yours as his hands find their way around you like they have been all night
"i like y-"
you didn't even have to finish the statement before his mouth was on yours in something sweet and passionate yet eager and needy
the breaks between kisses were few and short, completely engrossed in one another and trying to make the moment last forever
when you finally did separate, you were both smiling and letting out breathy chuckles, acting all giddy like the couple of kids that you were
he leans in to your touch when you put your palm on his cheek and kiss the other side, being able to feel the warmth that'd been there all night
"take us home, arthur."
he reaches for the hand on his cheek and turns his head to kiss it, then dropping them both down and intertwining your fingers as you begin to walk back to his horse, his voice filled with such love in a simple response
"yes ma'am."
goddamn do i love that cowboy. i literally told myself that i wasn't even going to write anything else besides my ongoing fic rn but i just have such a soft spot for arthur it's unreal. also if anyone wants to like, properly write this and make it a thing please feel free cuz i was just spit ballin' with this lmao- the only thing i ask is to be tagged because i wanna love and support u <3
*if you don't know what a foxy routine is, just look up that phrase on google or youtube and there are a ton of videos w so many variations of this dance! however i don't imagine is as a foxtrot (where there's more distance between u and ur partner) so there's that to clear up any confusion if there is any! <3
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x f!reader#arthur morgan drabble#????#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption two#rdr2#rdr2 drabble#fluff#i love my cowboy bf#annawrites#annasmasterlist
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The Boy with a Golden Eye
Scenario: You’ve been dating Akashi for a while now, and you’ve never thought you’d meet his other self again. In the Jabberwock tournament, no less.
Pairing: Akashi Seijuro x reader
Well—this was a tough to write. Akashi’s condition seems a little challenging to put to accurate words. Anyhow, apologies for the long wait. Here is Kabedon!Akashi part 3. I tried to write this in a manner where new readers can enjoy this even without reading the first parts (Part 1, Part 2)Thank you for all your suggestions and comments! ^^
Where are you?
Akashi Seijuro is distracted.
“Hey!”
Amidst the screams of the crowd and the succinct yells of his teammates, he couldn’t summon the otherworldly concentration he could usually call on the whim. He eyes Aomine, his hand raised to signal, and effortlessly throws in the ball.
The ball makes contact with Vorpal Sword’s ace, the sound of rubber slapping against flesh making a loud echo. He leaps into the air, levitates and navigates through the air until the ball slams home.
The point is rewarded with a boisterous cheer from the audience. Kise slaps Aomine’s shoulder, whilst the others raise their fists in celebration. Yet, despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Seijuro couldn’t help but shed another glance towards the stands.
Where are you?
......
You’re here.
Unbeknownst to him, you’re already standing outside the stadium, albeit with clenched fists.
You and Akashi are dating.
Your heart soared with child-like glee at the mere thought. Your younger self would’ve been seething in jealousy.
But then comes… the dilemma.
“There are two of me,” that’s what he said.
You didn’t get it very much, your mind running along the lines of, ‘does double personality even work that way?’. You wanted Akashi to elaborate. Or at least shed some light to that secret he wasn’t quite willing to share just yet.
However, despite his insistence of explaining when the right time comes, you knew deep in your own thoughts that you understood.
You saw Akashi Seijuro.
And you also saw Akashi Seijuro.
“Come to the game tomorrow,” Akashi said as he offered his hand to carry your bag.
“Really?” you replied airily as you hooked your bag behind your shoulder and grabbed his hand instead. “I always come to your games without your invitation, for Pete’s sake.”
Akashi grinned at that, squeezing your hand a little. “Perhaps you could meet again—with the other me whom you first met before.”
You blinked. “What?”
“The game tomorrow might require me to use the Emperor Eye, an ability which belongs to my other self. This is a good opportunity—”
“Hold that thought,” you interjected, taking your hand back to rub your temple. “I’m so confused, Akashi-kun.”
“I know,” he sighed. “And that is why it would be a perfect opportunity to talk things out as well.”
“Will you even have time to spare in between games though?”
“I will make time,” he assured.
It was the way he smiled that disturbed you the most—a gorgeous one, like the usual ones he graciously indulges you with every time he sees you. But this one looked bruised. Troubled. And brittle.
Because of that, you tiptoed between fear and yearning. You stand in front of the entrance of the stadium. You hear the buzzer. The screams. The squeaking of shoes.
You think of one Akashi Seijuro, his fragile smile, his pair of ruby eyes.
Sometimes, you’d dream of those beautiful eyes, his left occasionally flecked with gold.
You steel yourself forward. Instantly, you catch sight of the white jersey with a number four printed on his back. And just like those magical moments in the movies you loved watching, the second your feet touch with the ground, he turns.
Your eyes connect, and you see gold.
.......
Akashi runs.
He runs despite the voice of Kuroko’s usually gentle voice alarmingly calling out for him.
He runs despite the uncharacteristic fear that grips at his heart like a vice. His lungs scream at him for air, but he ignores everything else.
Then, he catches you.
“Hey,” you blurt out in surprise as he continues to plow towards you. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“How do you expect me to rest when you are about to take your leave with not even a word?” he snaps. Your eyes widen. It dawns on you.
His pale skin glistens with sweat, red locks of hair sticking to his forehead as he tries to catch his breath. Standing before you, he narrows his eyes at your stiffened posture.
You realize who you're talking to.
“I wasn’t about to leave,” you hiss back, impatience suddenly surging through you. “I was just buying juice.”
“Well then, would you care to explain why you have been so hesitant to come and watch the game when you knew I would be back?” he challenges. He towers over you with eyes gleaming with what seems like contempt.
“Why, are you mad?” you say.
“I am not,” he answers.
“Look, I know you don’t have much time before the next quarter starts. We can talk later—”
“I might not have the time anymore later,” he cuts you off. His voice, despite being rather soft, strikes your back like electricity.
“What?” you choke.
Before you can register, Akashi steps forward and you backpedal from his sudden proximity. Unceremoniously, he slams his hand onto the wall beside your head. You jerk and unconsciously raise your hands between the two of you.
“What—what the hell are you thinking?!" you gasp as the panic sets in.
“Look at me,” he commands.
You turn your head stubbornly. “No.”
“Look at me,” he says one more time. The urgency cripples your stubbornness. You begrudgingly oblige. Breath hitching, you press your back against the wall. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that with this position and all?” you yap and gesture wildly at his frame. Thankfully, there aren’t any people around to see you in this awkward situation.
A smirk zips his lips upwards as he leans forward until your noses almost touch. “If I recall, a certain someone foolishly backed me to a corner once upon a time. Just like this.”
Heat dusts your cheeks. “And that certain someone got herself a date,” you quip back despite the slight tremor in your voice.
Akashi’s smirk mellows down to a smile. You lose sight of his eyes as he rests his forehead against you shoulder.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his breath tickling you.
You swallow. “I’m not sure why you’re thanking me.”
“Pesky as you were, I cannot deny that you made my days more interesting because of your childish antics and pranks,” he chuckles.
You smile despite yourself. “The gall of you. I’ll have you know that you’re peskier when you act high and mighty, pretending you aren’t at all a hair away from murdering me.”
“You seem to know how to read minds.”
“I’m known for it,” you shrug obnoxiously before adding. “It’s… nice to see you again, I guess.”
You wait for another caustic response from him, but instead of shooting you down, Akashi plants a kiss on top of your head. The gesture surprises you.
The sound of the buzzer echoes down the hallways. Akashi withdraws from you, and the lack of warmth injects panic through your core.
“Wait—” you blurt out. “After the game, Akashi-kun. We still need to talk.”
Akashi considers you for a second, then, “How about another bet?”
You stare at him, his outline glowing from the lights behind him and smirk at the nostalgia. “Let’s hear it.”
“If we win this game, you will become mine officially.”
Aren’t I already? you want to ask, but huff out laughter instead. “Alright. Then, you better not slack off purposely just so you have an excuse to dump me, alright?”
“I would not dream of it.”
“I’ll see you later!” you yell behind him as he jogs away. “Okay?”
Akashi flashes you a familiar smile—tiny, almost nonexistent, but thrums melodies that your heart insists on beating to.
A quarter later, Vorpal Swords wins against Jabberwock, but Akashi is nowhere to be found.
.......
Where is he?
The stars are visible tonight, strewn over the black blanket of the night overhead. You hear his footsteps but you refuse to tear your eyes from the sky. Akashi sits beside you, leaving some space wedged between the two of you.
“He’s gone,” he starts, answering your own unsaid thoughts.
Pain ripples across your chest.
You scrunch up your eyebrows, trying to make sense of things—to make sense of him. There was melancholy in his voice. You want to reach out and touch his cheek, but you can’t seem to unlock your frozen muscles.
“He’s a fragment of my personality,” Akashi begins to explain, “the one who took it to himself to carry the burdens I otherwise could not. I was a coward. And so he stepped up, became cruel in my stead to protect my sanity, as well as the fragility I didn’t want anyone to know of. And for that, I am grateful to him.”
Tilting slowly, you watch his features soak up in remorse. Akashi looks like a lost child. In a misplaced fascination, you realize how much he’s changed from being someone who wore a perpetual mask of counterfeit perfection to someone who’s willing to bare himself and be vulnerable. Even if it’s only to few people.
With a delicacy you didn’t know you could muster, you push your hand into his. Akashi interweaves your fingers together and sighs.
“In the end, it made him who he was—ruthless, heartless and unapproachable. That was why it took me by surprise when you went out your way to get closer.”
“I couldnt help it, Akashi-kun.” you shrug. “To everyone, you were Mr. Perfect. But to me, you looked like someone crying for help.”
“Is that so? I thought he had been able to iron our his emotions more effectively than I ever did.”
“Yeah!” you make an exaggerated gesture of tossing his hand away before jabbing a finger to his chest. “You—your other half—you, you were lonely. And so are you.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following,” he chuckles.
You blow out a stray hair that’s gone to your face and cross your arms. “Look, I don’t get it. This stuff is confusing. It’s too complicated. But all im trying to say is… he’s a part of you, just as how you’re a part of him. What you feel deep inside you, he’d also feel. If you’re lonely, so is he. And it shows. It’s inevitable that you reflect each other. You aren’t separate entities. He’s an extension of you.”
You pause in your rant to gaze into eyes, not regretting the way you immediately submerge into the depth of his stare. Mesmerized, you smile at him, hoping that your sentiments and thoughts could go past through layers and layers of him and reach him.
“And it may not mean much, but I love every single part of you, Akashi-kun.”
The sound of rowdy laughter intermingles with the song the wind whistles. You pry your eyes away from his surprised visage to look towards where he came from. The rest of the team are still celebrating their victory.
You suppose such an outright confession would’ve garnered the most massive blush from you, but finally being able to speak that out loud somehow loosened the tangles your heart found itself in. Relieved, you let another easy smile gloss over your lips.
“It seems like I won the bet,” he finally says after recovering.
“It seems so,” you reply before sighing. You raise a brow at him. “I guess I don't have any choice, huh? Seeing that you’re so persistent and all that.”
Laughter falls free from his mouth as he stands. Akashi offers you his hand. “I have kept my word before. It would only be fair if you grant me the same privileges.”
Haughtily, you take his hand. The smoothness of his palm sends statics across your skin, biting yet exhilarating despite having been accustomed to how he feels against you.
“Whatever you say, your highness,” you grin wryly.
Akashi gives your hand a squeeze before guiding you back inside.
There’s still a lot to figure out. Being with someone like Akashi has never sounded like a walk in a park. However, as you swing your hands between you, you couldn’t think of anything else other than how perfectly your hand fits in his.
Read the rest here: Part 1, Part 2
Taglist for this fic: @jhalya @ivysteel18-blog @exaltedvalkyrie @thesongstressayre @I0diluvs @Ioyard176 @nobinot @leeminkc @itadaklmasu @celestair
This wraps up the Kabedon!akashi series. I hope the tone didn’t change much from part 1 and 2. I felt like the last part was appropriately of a more serious tone.
Akashi’s character is complex, and that is one of the things I really like about him. There are multiple layers of his character that can be further explored through writing. We can thank Fujimaki-sensei for that. Anyhow, if you’ve made it this far, THANK YOU. Thank you for all those who waited and read the whole series. Thank you for all the suggestions. And of course, thank you to the dearest anon who requested this. This 3-part piece wouldn’t have come to life if it weren’t for you guys. I hope I didn’t disappoint. Take care everyone! ^^
The beautiful dividers are made by @firefly-graphics. Please check their wonderful works! ^^
#akashi seijuro x reader#akashi x reader#akashi seijuurou x reader#akashi seijuro#kuroko no basket#knb fanfic#the basketball which kuroko plays#Akashi Seijūrō#Akashi Seijuurou#tenkasato writes#kabedon
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By His Side
pairing ➤ Tsukinaga Leo x gn!s/o
genre ➤ angst with comfort
format ➤ scenario
tw ➤ mentions of blood and self-harm, 'checkmate' story (cries)
word count ➤ 432
a/n before reading: this is a self-indulgent fic that i decided to write. i am deeply sorry if this brings back bad memories of 'you know which' story.
Tsukinaga Leo's past wasn't the best. The memories of the event still come back to haunt him.
.
.
.
Sounds of paper crushing along with quiet sobs could be heard from his room.
You knocked on his door for the umpteenth time, begging him to open the door and let you inside.
"No! Go away!" he shouted, voice slightly muffled.
"Leo! Open the door…Please!"
Finally, after much persuasion, you heard the door to his room unlock. Taking a deep breath, you entered the dark room.
You didn't expect to see what you saw.
Music sheets everywhere on the floor, pens and pencils scattered all around, and a few specks of blood leading toward Leo who was curled up on the floor, facing the other direction.
"Leo?"
"Y/N-chan…Do really you love me? Or do you only love me for the songs I compose?" he asked softly, his back still facing you.
Your heart shattered upon hearing his words. You quickly made your way toward him and sat down on the floor.
"Leo, look at me."
He slowly turned around to face you and you could see the tears welling up in his eyes threatening to spill.
You took both of his hands into yours and just as you had expected, there were deep bite marks on them with blood. You sighed as you got up and left his room. Leo, knowing what you were doing, stayed completely still.
Soon, you came back with a first-aid kit. Gently taking one of his hands, you began to treat his wound. Leo was silent throughout the entire time, watching you treat his wounds.
After you were done treating his wounds, you looked up at Leo and saw tears streaming down his face. You pulled him into a tight embrace and began patting his head.
"Y/N-chan?" you heard him ask, "Am I really worthless without my masterpieces?"
You pulled away from the hug and looked into his green eyes. "You are worth it even without your masterpieces. Don't let what they say get into your head, it's what they think. You matter so much."
Leo buried his face into the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N-chan… I promised to not hurt myself but I did…I'm sorry…"
"You don't have to apologize, Leo. Just know that I'll always be at your side no matter what." you reassured, smiling softly.
.
.
.
Tsukinaga Leo's past wasn't the best. The memories of the event still come back to haunt him.
But with you by his side, he knows that everything will be alright.
-Finished-
a/n: Eight words: I am sorry for bringing back bad memories.
#☕︎ barista's latte#☕︎ the newest item#ensemble stars x reader#enstars x reader#enstars x reader angst#ensemble stars x reader angst#tsukinaga leo#tsukinaga leo x reader#ensemble stars#enstars
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dni, fandoms, m.lists, etc!
Header is by @/kyouka-supremacy!!
Leave a request for my 200 followers event!!
Here's my prns page!
DNI!:
• basic dni criteria!
• I don’t really bother to check your age, but I’d prefer if you’re at least 17! If I do catch you interacting with my nsfw posts as a minor you will be blocked!
• I am dark content friendly, however I will not post dark content!
• don’t send in asks/reqs of dark content! I will block you if necessary!
Fandoms I’ll write for!:
• bungou stray dogs!
• danganronpa!
• project: eden’s garden!
• danganronpa despair time!
• danganronpa (he)artless deceit!
• your turn to die!
• death note!
• fruits basket!
• spy X family!
• sally face!
• angels of death!
M.lists!:
BSD m.lists!:
• general m.list!
• top 10 bsd characters oral scenarios!
• 200 followers event m.list!
Miscellaneous m.list!:
• general m.list!
Writing info!:
• my requests are closed unless for my 200 followers event! Subject to change! You can still send in thirsts, rants, etc!
• pretty much everything I write is self indulgent! I write for myself, so I apologize if the content I post isn’t what you want! There are plenty of amazing authors on here and I can guarantee at least one has what you’re looking for!
• if I’m personally uncomfy with something in your request, I’ll still write it but just get rid of that one aspect!
• I only write x readers!
• no x male readers as I don’t think I could do you guys justice! (sorry!)
• only fem or gn reader! If you don’t explicitly say what the reader is I will assume they’re afab + gn prns!
• I write nsfw, fluff & angst, although angst will (almost) always have a happy ending!
• I will never write anything that involves alcohol/drug use (besides aphrodisiacs..if that counts), medical stuff, age gaps, pregnancy kinks (breeding with the intent of getting pregnant is fine, it’s more so if the reader is currently pregnant and has sex), mommy/daddy kinks, omegaverse, no more characters than a threesome, and maybe some other things I haven’t remembered at the moment!
• I have a goal of writing {at least} 0.5k words a day!
• my favorite characters to write for are Atsushi, Mushitaro, Higuchi, Francis, Kunikida, Bram, Tachihara, Sigma, & Ango! You obviously don’t have to request them, but they are personal favorites!
General info!:
• my name is Pixie, but you can call me any variation that you want!
• I’m bilingual! I know English and ASL!
• I’m agender & lesbian! They/them please!
• I’m hyperfixated on BSD, YTTD, & DR!
Wips/stuff I plan to write (order of priority)!:
• Sigma x reader strip poker (request)!
• atsu x reader x aku 3some pt2 (request/also my own idea)
• vampire sigma x reader pt2 (request/also my own idea)!
• Sigma x reader trying on lingerie for him (request)!
• loid forger x reader jealousy sex!
Reqs are currently on hold for my 200 followers event!
Writing suggestions/advice!:
• How to write inclusive reader inserts
#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs smut#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd smut#bsd#atsushi nakajima x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#doppo kunikida x reader#francis scott key x reader#dazai osamu x reader#oguri mushitaro x reader#akutagawa ryunosuke x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader
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~I apologize in advance for the word vomit that is this~
it’s just that type of day for me where I’m thinking about being sandwiched in between Noah and Oli and taking a fat nap.
and it’s not even about just needing the rest or trying to sleep off the headache or whatever other reason it might be, it’s the comfort of it. of hearing the two of them conversing lowly and their voices lulling you to sleep. your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake for the moment, so they don’t know you can hear their playful bantering— probably arguing about something like who’s the better pillow. maybe there’s a show playing in the background. you’re in a pile on the couch or in the comfort of your shared bed. it just screams domestic comfort, and it is making me feel 🥺💗🦋🥺💗🦋
being tangled up with Noah’s gangly ass legs. we’re portraying him being clingy as fuck with this one because I’m feeling self-indulgent. like at one point his cheek is just smushed against yours, not for very long, before he’s nuzzling into the curve of your neck !!!!!! (it’s his second home idc) and his hair falling across your skin and tickling you!!!!! hrnghhh when I say it is so soft (Noah’s hair too but that’s not what I mean), they are such golden retriever boyfriends I cannot. you say you want to take a nap— subtext that you want them to join you— and they are there!! when he has the time~ Noah to me also gives off vibes like he’s preparing a nest!!! pillows!!! blankets!!!! comfort is key!!!! do you want some white noise? some thunder sounds? music? (WHY IS NOAH OFFERING TO PLAY RAIN AND THUNDER SOUNDS MAKING ME SOFT) idkidk I can’t explain it but ya know he just seems like he knows how to curate his environment/is more detail oriented when it comes to things like that
(these are just my musings, by no means true, 100% fictional)
Oli can’t keep his mouth off you. he seems like the type that has a lot of nervous energy— can’t sit still, must always be occupied (and then couple that with him already being super touchy feely affectionate)— so he’s kissing every inch of skin available to him!!!!! will play with your hair. it’s only fair given how often you play with his!!
RAHHHH 🦅🦅🦅 (I was gonna take a nap. I did not. I did this instead 😂😂😂😂)
oh my god NEVER apologise for word vomit, I love it so much!!!
this is genuinely my dream scenario lmao, there's very little I love more than napping and cuddling and being sandwiched between those two?? absolute 10/10
and the idea of both of their voices, Oli's accent and Noah's low tone, just lulling me in, oh myy. they would definitely banter, being with them would be a constant play fight about everything and anything and they'd keep trying to get you to pick sides but you'd only do it if you particularly wanted to tease one of them, because you all know there's no ranking in your love!!
yes, I love clingy!Noah, I'm all for it, I crave it lol, he'd just constantly make sure to be touching as much of you as he possibly could, like, he's in a weird position and getting uncomfortable? who cares as long as you're cuddled into him, that's enough for him! he needs everything to be just right for you, noise, temperature, snacks on the ready, hell, he'll light your favourite scented candle if that's your vibe!
and 100% on Oli's nervous energy, man has adhd and he'll live it out with you, Noah's your calm anchor, Oli's the one to keep you on your toes. he only really gets to rest when he's in your arms and even then he doesn't settle down or drift off until he's satisfied he's kissed you enough, stroked your skin enough, played with your hair enough, all of it
ahhhh it's yearning hours, anon!!
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Hello. Do you mind if I ask about your creative process when you created your OCs? I have a few of my own but I was wondering how you went about creating a story and background for them. I apologize if you have already answered this.
Hey hey, I don't mind at all!!
I'm not too sure tough I can give a good answer :D
My process has been one that took years. I wouldn't consider myself an ocs artist, in the sense that I have many ocs or many stories. I've been carrying Aran and Tao, and they have changed and grown with me over the years.
But I can share two things I like to do
1: I like to start small and slowly grow from there. This applies to drawing my cluttered backgrounds but also to how I like to explore characters.
Meaning, I start with the rough base. Character, male, how do they look like. And then I go from there. What do they like? And slowly add things. Does what they like apply to their life? Like hobby, or job? So what would they do? Do the people around them like the same thing or don't get it? Who are the people in their life?
You see? Start something small and let it grow.
2: Put them in aus and different scenarios.
Despite the fact that Aran and Tao went through several different main stories and settings already, I also have like 100 little aus and different settings for them. And I feel this helps so much.
I know now what they like and do, but how would this be in another universe or in another situation? How would them liking this and that work and reflect their action in a different setting? This really helps to figure out a characters motivation and behavior.
This all said, I know that this is a long process. It's all progress. And a lot changed over the years. So as we know finally want to have a specific story for Aran and Tao we do have to settle on one universe and one story arch. And now I'm not doing it alone anymore. Suzie Samin joined me and created a story and we developed the characters together.
Which brings me to another third point.
3: Talking with friends or others about your characters and tossing around ideas and playing out ideas helps a lot.
Lastly I think creating a character is a personal thing, and so is the process!
And I think there is also a difference between just creating a little guy (gender neutral) to play around with, and draw in different scenes or write little snippets about, or to create a character for an actual story as a book or graphic novel. Not just in the time you have but also purpose. So there are many different ways.
For my case Aran and Tao started out as those funky little guys to just tag along with me and have fun with, and developed into something more serious. So I really find it hard to share my process, because it's been a long one, and it went through many different stages and purposes.
This now got way longer than I thought, and not sure it helps :D
Just have fun with your characters and don't stress too much about it! Be self indulgent and enjoy the process! Nothing is set in stone. You can always go back and change things! Or use them for another character some day.
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sweet pea — a tender moment。
▌| character/s: noelle, la signora
▌| description: scenarios of the ladies showing you affection and a few relationship headcanons
▌| warning/s: mentions of sickness (noelle’s part), implied employer-worker relationship (la signora); nothing n/sfw though
▌| author’s note: this is super self-indulgent, and i really missed writing for my fandoms. here’s my contribution for @ghostly-march ‘s event, “600 flowers for hu tao”! (also posting this at 1 AM, i apologize for any mistakes)
▌| link/s: masterlist
Noelle
A dull throb in your head made your brows furrow in pain – the thrumming beneath your skull waking you from a deep slumber. Your body feels heavy too, with something laying on your midsection. Feeling around to remove the object proves successful, as your fingers graze over an… arm?
Noelle stirs awake when she notices you move, hands immediately encasing yours. They’re still unusually warm, she notes. She can’t control the way worry grips her heart, because sickness is one of the things, she’s unable to rid of immediately – Noelle could only alleviate your pain.
She keeps her voiced hushed, fearing that a sudden loud sound would worsen your headache. “Good morning, my rose. How was your rest? I’ll fetch you a glass of water right away.”
Instead of letting her leave, you reach out and tug at her arm – Noelle barely having the chance to catch herself. “Stay,” you murmur, voice scratchy after hours of no use.
Her hands – calloused and rough as they may be from her daily work – remained tender. Noelle raises one of your hands and kisses the back of it.
“As you wish.”
Noelle always removes her armor whenever she’s with you. She prefers the warmth you radiate – similar to a hearth in a winter night, ever-giving of light and chases away the biting cold.
She has abs, by the way. If you put your head on her stomach it’s rock hard, not even as a joke, she’s just Built Like That™.
Noelle’s cheeks are SO SOFT, and she doesn’t mind you affectionately squeezing them. You’ll quickly notice her blushing if you start fawning over how adorable she is, even hiding behind her hands when she’s too flustered.
With her vision being geo, her body temperature is fairly normal. This means that your cuddle sessions are rarely interrupted by weather changes.
Her hugs are firm, but never suffocating. With her golden-laced white armor, it can often be uncomfortable – which is why she prefers it to be off when showing you affection. Your comfort is her top priority.
No matter your height, she prefers it when your arms lay on her shoulders. That way, she can sweep you off your feet (literally), if needed.
If you’re sick, she caters to your every need until you fall asleep, and that’s the only time she’ll leave the room to finish all her tasks in record speed. She sits beside your bed, diligently waking you up in time for your medicine and dipping the wet towel into a small basin of water.
Sudden hugs are welcomed by Noelle. Even if she’s carrying heavy crates, she’ll attempt to shift them onto one arm to try and accommodate you. If she can’t, she slightly tilts her forehead towards you – shyly beckoning for a kiss instead.
La Signora
A light touch on your head breaks you out of your focus, and wisps of smoke – steam, you realize, enters your peripheral view as La Signora places a mug in front of you.
“You’ve been away from bed for a while,” she whispers, accompanying it with a kiss of greeting to your cheek. Her fingers move from their position on your tresses, a hint of frost blooming on your skin as she traces a shape on your shoulder.
There’s an endless pile of documents that littered your table. Being her secretary meant receiving an ungodly amount of workload, especially since your lover tends to move swiftly in her missions. And she understands. However, rarely does she ever see you free from work.
La Signora easily lifts you from your chair and settles you on her lap. A command is whispered in your ear, as she lays her head on your back afterwards.
“Continue, my butterfly. Do not let my presence distract you.”
Most of her greetings are conveyed through kisses – on your forehead (anywhere on your face, really), hands, neck– you’ll get used to it.
Do you know how Elsa has gloves to keep her powers in check? Signora’s similar to her in that regard. The main difference is that La Signora knows and is fully capable of controlling her cryo delusion, but she still wears gloves when she’s with you as a precaution.
No matter what attempt you try at hugging her, you’ll always end up in a single position – you on her lap, with her arms around you. Doesn’t let go for a LONG time, unless work matters need her immediate attention. If she can keep you on her lap while reading through documents, Signora will do that.
(Also, I headcanon Signora to be as tall as Lady Dimitrescu – who is more than 9 feet tall. I don’t care about her canon height.)
Despite that, she won’t let you inside of her office if she’s meeting with another harbinger. She doesn’t want you engaging with them at all, plus she wants to keep their relationship strictly professional and keep her lover out of their prying eyes. The only ones you’ve formally met is the Tsaritsa and Pierro.
There can be days, weeks, even months without you seeing Signora. So, whenever she goes home, she heads straight to your shared room and invites you to relax with her. Hearing your voice and watching you talk about your daily activities when she’s gone is her newfound stress relief.
▌| written by RAVYNOUS — please do not copy, edit, screenshot, or repost any of my works. Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated.
#✦ 𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐬「my writing」#600 flowers for hu tao#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfic#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x y/n#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#noelle x reader#la signora x reader#signora x reader
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My hc mk12/mk1 shang tsung self ship au quotes:
*note i only do my hc version of mk12/mk1 shang tsung. This is also just for fun. So canon divergent extreme. Because i have kollectively decided that the storymode is shit,the narrative is shit,and my hc verse is just a young master shang tsung in outworld during his time under the corrupt regime of edenia and outworld. Under shao Kahn's heelboot. That being said enjoy.*
Cw:language,(also it's mortal kombat you should know better),canon divergence,some nsft implications,some angst,self indulgent to hell. Not an x reader. If there is anything i forgot lemme know so i can properly citation this. <3
Green is shang
Purple is me
💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚
"If you can be anything,be a menace to them my dear,much more fulfilling"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why should i trust you?"
"The question you actually wish to ask my dear,is why not? But also can i afford not to? What alternative is there truly? The emperor cares not for earthrealmers,i should know. I was once one of them."
"Fair point. I don't like anyone here. And i need to get back home somehow. So im stuck with you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're lucky he's dead,he would have eaten you....though you have a sweet little soul. I think he may get cavities" *chuckles*
"Are you always this a sarcastic insufferable dick?"
"No,but for you it's just too fun not to be beautiful"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*scenario: hiding from warrior guards. Me n shang unfortunately are hiding in a compromising position. And he's kinda feelin the cobra rise*
"I think we lost them shang"
*notices somethin be poking me back*
"Wait...is that....*whisperes heavily* SHANG!"
*blushes and turns away* "apologizes my dear"
"Ugh" *blushing*
"Could you really blame a man though?,you do have a rather...pleasing posterior"
*blushes harder and gets more mad n flustered* (look im tsundere af im easy to tease. Shang would have a field day with me)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*shang reading a book. Sees me walk into his bed chambers with nothing on but a big ol shirt.*
*puts the book down*
"Oh my,well well. Don't you look delectable ♡"
"It's nothing really. I mean it's a simple big black shirt i had in my backpack,Nothing special. I mean i packed very lightly before i fell into this weird mess of a realm."
"Even so. It fits you oh so nicely. Shows all of your greatest....assets."
"Stop shang,you're just trying to make me feel better" *looks away,kinda feeling low about appearance*
"No,no i mean it. You're beautiful. You think of everyone but yourself. Take care of everyone else but you. You deserve the best in life. And i wouldn't settle for less than. Neither should you."
*sits me in front of a mirror in his bed chambers*
"My dear look at your curves,your hair how it flows. Your beautiful lips. Your dark eyes with yearning. A fire and passion burns in your soul,waiting to be free. And if you let me,and ask of me. I shall help set it free. Free from worry,pain,never again will you doubt yourself."
"I dunno shang,i just think of myself as well...me. nothin really that special."
*shang thinking he needs a better approach. As he realizes flattery can get so far. Though he genuinely means every word. He thinks to himself "this woman has a worried mind,and has been hurt before perhaps." *
"Nonsense! You look at me *lifts my head with finger under my chin* you are special. I have seen into your very soul. You are unique. Every one is. But you,see me as i am. Not as i say. With you i dont need to hide. No honeyed words can sway you,tho your face blushes red. Nothing that i have done so far strays you from me. Even now i show you my place of dwelling and though i am but the emperors courtly mage i still am forced to live in a more less than ideal home. All the gold and treasures you see before is through tournaments in the Coliseum. Nothing but trinkets either from the emperor for being a "good dog" or from the crowds to see slaughter for the bloodsport of the gods. Yet this doesn't frighten you,or turn you from me. I know that feeling of not liking what you see before you. But believe me when i say. A body will rot. But the soul....ah the soul my dear lives on for eternity. It's the truest of ones self. And within you i see a rose among the gardens of weeds and pompous fools gold. A heart that i honestly and deeply can say is Phoenix like. Noble,beautiful, and rising above such insects below you."
"Shang...i...dunno what else to say,i mean I'm flattered but.... Did you mean all that?"
"Every word my dear,every word. But dont just take my words,believe in yourself. Please. I dont like seeing you be so hard on yourself. A man such as i,can not truly pass. But you do,and can. Wish not for a life not worth lived. And loved."
"Shang,i....thank you"
*embraces shang in a deep hug*
*shang embraces back*
(Oof sorry i got carried away there. 😅 but i thought of a scenario where in all honesty i may feel a lil inadequacy in edenia/outworld. Because everyone there looks "appealing" while i feel like an outsider, which i am technically. But fr it would feel awkward. And basically shang telling me. That my looks dont matter my heart and soul does. And edenians and outworlders have a tendency to be fake af and he likes my honesty and down to earth vibe. In other words shang likes my homilyness and none of that "person who tries to hard to look good but has a shitty personality and only likes him for what he can give them and not him for him,even when he is old and grey and low on souls and not doin so hot. Etc" crap he may have gotten before with others.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You will not fucking dare harm her!"
"Less you lose your head reiko"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Shang....what are you doing?"
"Clearly smoking and pondering the universes secrets" *takes a hit from his hookah*
*snickers* "what does the universe tell you oh wise and deep one?"
"It tells me that if you keep up that snark you may find yourself on the receiving end on my dragon's claws" *gestures with clawed rings*
*blush*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ah fuck, quick! what do i do now shang?!"
"If you Kill their pride they'll usually fall down"
*hits the opponent in the balls so hard that it would make 95 johnny cage proud*
"Not exactly what i ment but that'll work"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*me n shang bathing together*
"You know,I've noticed that your sweet side is you best side"
"Well that's a Good thing to hear,because you're the only one who's seen it"
*kisses my forehead*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*this is suggestive.
So take it as you want.>:3c hee hee*
"That's....like a lot shang."
"Apologizes dear,it's been a while"
"How about i clean that up for you? *flirty look*
"I'd like that very much ♡"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well that's all for now. May make some more later.
💚🐍💋
#mortal kombat#self ship#self shipping#shang tsung#💚heart and soul🐍#shang tsung mortal kombat#mk f/o#antagonist f/o#villain f/o#villain/antagonist f/o#shang tsung self indulgent hcs#my hcs#shang tsung hcs#my self ship hcs#my hcs version of mk12/mk1 shang tsung
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Do I smell a size kink?
We're talking about hands, right? I am. Inspired by this ask and this work of art by @thebluevipersden along with my thirsty posts about Cad Bane's lengthy fingers since before the Batuuan cows came home.
Cad Bane x Fem! Reader
Note: This is the most verbose, self-indulgent garbage I have ever written. I do not apologize. This is pr0n without plot. I may mention a room? A bed? No specific setting, meant to be kind of "cerebral" or whatever.
Word count: 3.4+
Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for size kink, voice kink, fingering, edging, name-calling, hair-pulling, straight up lust and body worship, double Durosian cock sucking, finger sucking, rough and passionate kissing, breast massaging, mild/consensual gagging/choking, cum guzzling, greed, master/slave scenario though desired by the reader, light degradation, praise, orgasm control, begging, and hat tipping.
P.S.: There is remotely a happy ending. Bane will always come back to you.
Size Matters
Extensive fingers, long-reaching, your fantasies brought to life on the vertex and crooks of their multi-jointed lengths. Blue flesh, cold and smooth with a faint roughness that paralyzes you when they caress your human skin. Marks are left in the form of horripilation; the bristling of micro hairs on your aching body as you pine for the hunter’s patented ministrations. Cruel, while at the same time tantalizing, stimulating your already sultry sex, dampened to the deepest, darkest depths that he can fathom.
***
You are a souse for Duros, drunk off this one in particular, the size, the massive expanse of his all-encompassing alien anatomy, the sight seared into your memory, occupying your thoughts all waking hours of the day and on sleepless nights, flourishing at the forefront of your conscious mind, haunting your dreams, and making a slave out of any free will still in your possession.
When Cad Bane graces you with his daunting presence you are a puppet, a plaything. He frightens you, though you are insensible; insatiable, ready, willing, and brimming with an outspoken lust that makes even this cold-blooded; cold-hearted creature smile toothily, a sinister salaciousness etched into the scarred and weathered contours of his angular features, perfect in its imperfection. Like a fine work of art, paint cracking and splitting, though no less loved for all its wear.
This man sits on a pedestal of your own making, higher than a Renek, an Emperor, or a Daimyo on his dais, those reedy digits perverse in the clasping of your mewling throat. Dangerous, deadly, decidedly erotogenic is the gentle hold that encapsulates you, yet it could crush bones into pulp and dust and nothingness.
A hand that could engulf your own smaller, mammalian one; your face; the fullness of a breast, capable of being seated and smothered in the frigid breadth of a palm.
One finger enters your mouth, sliding past the barrier of your flat teeth, fondling the wet muscle that plays at the apex until it bypasses your uvula and cants down, down, into the empty hollow, incisors and molars met with knuckle at its end. It wallows in your saliva, sequestered in the pit of your throat as you barely begin to gag, your tastebuds registering the astringent pungency of worn, dusky leather. His gloves are fingerless, though this does not prevent you from having a sampling of their acridity.
Syllables laced in heavy modulation seep slowly past twin-tipped fangs that bare themselves in approval and fascination, the callous hired-gun clothed in armorweave seething at the same time he sings his praises in your ear. “Good girl. Naht de only thing yer gonna take from me.”
Your core is molten, a burning fire lingers in your center as he withdraws from you, rivaling the heat of a brightly blazing star. He leaves your body empty, tears threatening to fall from your bedroom eyes as he gazes at you, a twisted upturning of his lip denoting the immense amount of pleasure he receives from simply watching his prey squirm.
His depraved touch causes your chest to heave as he trails languidly across your pulse point to your clavicle, strolling along your sternum until he swoops back around to encircle a hard, erect nipple. The protrusion stands at attention, pinpricks of ecstasy enticing you to moan his name out loud, the Duros basking in the afterglow of your sudden shock as he pulls away leaving you wanton, barren of his debauch affections.
Your parted lips tremble as he inserts his tongue into your open maw, forcing your mouths together as he steeps himself to the farthest reaches, those monstrous hands clamping down on the soft tissue of your breasts to massage and adulate those doughy things that are meant to feed human young, yet are so fun to grapple and molest.
You groan against his fangs, wanting those almost nightmarishly large appendages to get lost in the bows and angles of your feminine form, exulting his name higher as you rasp quaking breaths between the annunciation of his title directly into his gaping jaws. “Fill me, Bane, please.”
He pulls away, licking a stripe from your chin to your temple, grasping you by one shoulder to maneuver you as he forces your small body to turn, bend, and lie prostrate over his boney lap upon the bed he sits on.
“Up,” he says. You crawl backward just enough like the worm you are, arms stretched across and beyond his scrawny legs, your back arcing into an all too familiar curve as your replete ass is left exposed to the open air. Cad traces a narrow pattern on your back down the veer of your spine causing your epidermis to betray you as it pimples with excitement and adrenaline once again.
“Haunches,” he commands, and you sink down onto your knees, sitting atop your forelegs with all the appearances of a roasted pig, ready to be devoured by hungry chops.
His arm sweeps the cusp of your body, skirting your buttocks to take a sample of the secretions that practically ooze from your vaginal opening, finger pads playing with the clear, gleaming residue produced by your ardent arousal, the Duros obviously pleased with himself by the telltale snide smirk that resides at the corner of his thin-lipped mouth as he spreads the sheen apart then licks it clean.
“So needy,” he rasps above you, the wide brim of his bolero hat casting a dark shadow over his countenance to the point the only thing left visible are those scorching, hellfire eyes, like pools of lava boring into your soul as the man himself bores into your drenched nexus with a single, sizeable finger, each one having an extra phalange in comparison to a human being that causes you to cry out as he slowly, tortuously makes a show of forcing you to plead so indecently for more.
Oh, this is taboo; you are corruptible, so far gone your head is swimming as the hunter imbues and otherwise impales your plush innards all the way to the apogee of his Durosian digit. You would traverse entire galaxies to worship at this man’s boots, to have him render you asunder with his fearsome teeth. He belauds your increasing wetness. You meekly voice your physical and mental high with an abject whimper that makes him laugh pitilessly at your amplified awareness, his stimulation of your sweet spot somewhat austere though it does not matter. You are at his mercy.
“Easy.” He berates you, another finger comparable with the first in length and girth worming its way inside of your already stretched cunt. He stays stationary as you grind your body over the rigid appendages of the Duros, riding so close to an orgasm he pulls your head up by the hair.
You gasp, choking on your own spit, mouth hanging open as he snakes his tongue back into you, entrenching it past your tonsils as his canines graze your upper lip and chin. A shudder rocks your body and he pries himself away. You beg him for another kiss. “Master, please.”
He exudes a sound between a snort and the auditory equivalent of a sneer, mocking the exigency of your tone, his free hand unbuckling the holsters at his hips. They drop to the floor with a clatter, Bane coaxing the clasp of his pants to open, unzipping his insulated blacks, then reaching for his foreign genitalia. His cocks are revealed, twin phalli equal in width and a myriad of other ways, including ribs and ridges, crests of flesh and soft scales that when utilized synchronize with your own reproductive organs despite the hunter being of another species and ilk entirely.
“Open wide,” he instructs you, pushing you back down by the back of the head as those fingers so worthy of your pathetic attempts at adoration cling to your locks, guiding you to imbibe thankfully, only one, as your throat could not accommodate another. Instead, he drives this second cock forward. He thrusts it in your face even as you slather and saturate his first dick with your saliva. His slick is saccharine with a tang, the Duros’ hemipenis residing hidden until brought into service; until pumped full up of his green blood.
Your tiny, fragile hand makes note of every line, every pliable spine that threatens to latch onto the softness of your palm though it wouldn’t serve a purpose in the here and now so Bane refrains, otherwise gingerly coercing you to swallow his dick whole as you grasp and jerk his other cock within the warm seat of his chosen implement, regardless of the temporary vulnerability as his eyelids droop.
You buzz against him like a swarm of Bluebarb wasps, Bane’s top rung of a lip curling inward, a single, snaggle-fang peeking out the gap though you are too preoccupied to see the visual reward accompanying your hard work.
Your cheeks become depthless depressions, concave in appearance as this act that keeps him coming back propels a sibilant hiss, a rattle from the epicenter of his larynx, circumventing the breathing tubes that are stationed deep within, expelling that fiendish resonation in such a way that it only encourages the debase performance you are subjecting yourself to.
Objectification is in the sabacc cards, and so is degradation, though you crave any and all ill-mannered attentions this cowboy from the ghetto will give you. But so is praise, aggrandizement. He is a barbarous figure of authority when the mood strikes, yet he can also flatter and finesse.
“Dhat’s it, princess.”
Your tenuous, corporeal shell has become inflexible as your sole focus is to suck him dry, though you are groaning humbly at the rich sound your body’s byproduct makes as it leaks down your inner thighs and legs from Bane’s expert influence on your dripping pith. Back and forth, the hunter’s fingers are coated in the stuff, the carnal manifestation of your dopamine release, and his building as you continue your lecherous endeavor by his guidance.
Your forearm engages in supination, muscles activating to keep pace with the suction of your mouth, your thumb stroking the bulbous head of his shaft to relish the texture of the seepage that already founts at his slit. Bane moaning is the most beautiful music to your ears, pushing you towards the throes of an orgasm quicker, though you bridle yourself from peaking prematurely by homing in on the sensation of the Duros’ adulterant anatomy gliding in and out, eluding your rather dull canines, a mere parody in contrast to his.
You’re trying so hard to curb your climax when the hand on the back of your head reaches back to smack your ass, leaving in its wake a large, red welt that shakes you viscerally and you whine against his cock jammed against the rear of your throat, profane vocalizations filling the space of the room and Bane’s ear canals with what is akin to a kind of decadent euphony. At least in this way you are both similar, taking delight in the other’s lascivious vocalizations in such a way that they appease an innate need for approval, though Bane would do as he wishes, approval or not, and the slut in you; the whore that you are does not seem to care.
“Naht te cum unless Ah say,” he unfairly states, though your pussy is clenching as you uptake his sonorous voice. It echoes inside your ear drums, filtering through to invade your mind with its lewdness. It’s only his natural way of being, the way he speaks as Basic is not his first or native language, though the enunciations of this Duros cause you to writhe again across those spidery digits and he knows what he is doing is agonizing; he knows how those wisps of his hot breath against you are unsportsmanlike in this game you play, yet he does it to spite you, for the punishment is far worse should you disobey.
He'll leave. He’ll walk away and desert you for weeks, months on end. It is not a risk you are willing to take, so you relax your Kegel muscles and return your focus to his phalli. Though, you implore him now between your voracious appetite for his cock, and the one being stroked in your diminutive human hand, for your long sought-after liberation against his exceptionally flawless kneading of your velvet loins.
“Please, sir,” you entreat him amongst strings of your spittle, but oh, this has the opposite effect that you want it to. He spans his reach inside you, then adds a thumb to the glandular protrusion of your clit, sensually circling the little nub just to torment you. The demons of hell would have been more forgiving, yet Cad Bane does not tarry from his sadistic mission even as you legitimately cry, the salty tears streaming from your eyes a bitter reflection of the harrowing experience; the trauma engrained in you; the very idea you would be denied his visitations for the foreseeable future the only thing keeping you from spilling yourself all over him.
He gives a guttural guffaw full of derision even as it transforms into a harrumph; a mutter that borders pornographic as does anything that exits that otherwise wily mouth. Oh, the hunter is crafty, but your administrations are artful along his cock, expressing your devotion for him in a tangible way as you pick up the tempo.
It is like a dance, and you are entertaining him. He matches your momentum, and it is nearly unbearable. You thrum beseechingly, hoping that when he attains his, you will get yours, or that he will allow you to, as you are edging closer and closer, and you do not know if you can contain yourself much longer.
Your dedication and perseverance pays off. A cacophonic croak rises from the bottom of his voice box as the cock in your mouth lets loose a torrent of gelid seed, glazing your throat with its balmy texture and unique, savory flavor. It reminds of you tart confectionaries, though the aftertaste is almost sugar sweet and makes you want to guzzle the shit like there’s no tomorrow.
You give an enrapt purr as it slides down and into your stomach. You keep sucking. You won’t stop for the life of you, not until the Duros bats you on the nose with the crown of one blue finger and you relent. He is panting, but you catch him off guard, shoving the other of his dicks into your gluttonous gullet.
“Greedy minxx,” he hisses directly in your ear, your head bumping into the underside of his oversized hat as you bob your head, urging his second batch from the recesses of his testis. His species had two organs; two loads, and you would coax them both to the surface and into your belly - a meal in and of itself – one that always leaves you starved for more.
He sibilates again before his fangs clack against one another, the Duros bearing down on his bottom row of jagged teeth even as he jerks his fingers inside you, coiling them, applying pressure to the anterior wall of your vagina. He does this as you push him to another orgasm, that same icy, sour ejaculate coating your tongue, the inside of your mouth, and slipping down into your eager bowels.
You can’t help it. His reptilian patience, the faultlessly unhurried, absolutely professional way Bane nuzzles his entire palm against your pubic mound while adeptly nestling his colossal knobby fingers inside you causes your cunt to quiver of its own volition. They are prodigious. You come up for air, the hunter’s semen dribbling down your lips and chin as you scream to the ceiling of your meager dwelling.
You cum. He had not given his permission, though he does not remove his fingers. You ride out your pleasure to its completion, literally, body undulating like the ocean waves of Kamino over his expansive extremities.
His thumb’s pad increases your release as it keeps its movements steady over your swollen bud. He rubs another one out of you without even trying. His limbs are sodden with your liquid excess. He inclines his neck so as to look at you face-to-face as he removes those fingers you love to well, inch by interminable inch, a sopping sound in hot pursuit that makes your cheeks flush redder than his eyes until a new expression takes over your face – regret.
“Please, Cad. I’m sorry,” you say as he wipes your overflow on the back of his chaps, the Duros standing so you are forced to sit up on your knees.
“Don’ know how te listen, do ye, girl?” he chides you, sending a shockwave of humiliation through you the same time as horror and longing. You cling to the hunter’s hips, wrapping your arms about his wafer-thin waist, pleading for him not to abandon you so soon, even as he cuts himself off, adjusting and refastening his bodysuit and trousers.
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to,” you urge him, eyes glistening as you stare into his so full of an unreadable stoicism, the only hint to his current mindset being the faint smile that tugs at the corner of his hairline lips as he squirms away, taking up his gun holsters. “I tried.”
“Ye did try, didn’ ye?” He asks, fastening the LL-30's to himself before he brushes the backs of those spindly digits, those knotted knuckles, across your silken cheek in a kind bestowal of favoritism, drawing your chin up between the cradle of his thumb and forefinger to tilt your neck to fully face him.
“An’ ye failed.”
He’s right. You failed to obey. The Duros is overpowering. He ravages all five of your human senses. You would let him overtake you; engross you with every fiber of his being if it were possible, yet you know in that instant you had lost the privilege of his tactical, almost formulaic tenderness for the unknowable future, whatever he deems fair or necessary. However, it won’t stop the urgency of your appeal.
“Please, Bane, don’t leave me. I’ll do anything.”
He scowls, though it is tinged with a modicum of levity, yet dark as molasses. The man is not entirely heartless no matter the rumors and hearsay that follow his every footstep, but his true modality somehow evades you, even as his smile contorts into a full-fledged, vicious grin.
He tightens his grip on your mandible, parting your whining mouth further with the tip of his tongue. It slithers inside you, furling as it whorls with yours. He grasps your breast, palming its entirety as you rise up off the bed to meet him, though your stature still causes him to bend to greet you halfway.
He kisses you with such passion the electrical signals communicating with your brain short circuit, and you are left a throbbing mess as he pulls away. You gasp at the separation; he inserts a finger to quiet you. You suck along its length. It is drawn out and slow.
“Anythin’?” Bane rumbles, then he charges you with a simple decree; a verbal behest you are so unwilling yet anxious to adhere to even as he slips that finger in and out of your mouth like a third cock, watching the puckering of your lips, hypnotized by the delectable spell of your sensuous gesticulations across his blue flesh to the point he nearly loses his own train of thought.
“Mhm,” you agree, wide soliciting eyes impervious to distraction searching his ruby elliptic ones for understanding, yet he steals that finger from you with a resounding pop.
“Dhen ye wait 'ere fer me,” he states simply, unjustly, savagely as he tips the brim of his hat to you, glossing the edge with two of those wickedly inhuman appendages that did you so, so dirty.
You gasp, cry out, grab at his coattails as he whisks around. You miss and nearly stumble, Bane leaving you in ruins and with nearly the total loss of all your dignity. The Duros pauses by the entrance of your abode. You look away, ashamed. He does not loiter, but solidifies his departure with quick strides and a slamming of the door. Even so, Cad knows he will be back. The skillset you possess is unmatched; peerless, and he has been around the Galaxy more than enough times to know he’s found a catch.
He will only leave you long enough to make you fret, but not long enough so you forget, though chances are it’s nary possible.
----
Main Masterlist
Cad Bane Masterlist
#Cad Bane#Cad Bane x Reader#Cad Bane x You#Duros#Star Wars#Star Wars Smut#x you#x reader#Clone Wars#Book of Boba Fett#BOBF#Bad Batch#Fanfiction#Star Wars Fanfiction#My writing
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A Raiden Blurb.
⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡
Have a lord Raiden blurb. For no reason other than he need love,deserves better and gives me comfort.
I apologize in advance if this is self indulgent. But he's comfort character(i self ship with him too but he's mostly comfort character, i find peace with raiden fr. I ask myself sometime wwlrd? Or what wisdom would he give me in this scenario?).So I'm writing this sorta bias. So srry not srry.
Also apologizes if this isn't the best,it's been a bit since i actually wrote. But i hope you enjoy regardless.
Cw:hurt/comfort,angst,fluff,self indulgent. Not an x reader. Also slight mentions of past deaths,not anyone in particular just death in general(dunno if that is important or a tw but i wanted to mention it),mentions of my hcs for shang. If i missed anything let me know plz.
💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙⚡💙
I sat down on my terrace patio of my apartment,listening to the rain,it felt heavy. Some tea in my hands. Warmth of the steam fills my nose upon my face. Somber thoughts race through my mind.
A few years ago i was thrusted into a world,a world of constant danger. Mortal men and women fighting each other to death for some cosmic war i never wanted to be a part of. I was fine being ignorant to it all. Living life as i was...and yet. I wouldn't have met the people i have. Wonderful people. People that have fueled my very soul and shaken my worldview to it's core. Made me grow,learn,see farther than i ever dreamed.
And yet,that looming danger. That hunger. It knaws at me. That voice in the back of my mind.
"Do it,you know you love it. Doesn't it thrill you? Don't you like how it sounds?...how it feels against your knuckles as it's crimson luster flows across your skin. The feel of power and strength. The way that victory tastes. And defeat only makes you crave it more?" This feeling I've never felt. This world that i have been apart of for a good time now. Never truly leaves. Even when peace surrounds me. Even when i am home...am i truly? Who am i truly? What have i become or am becoming? It terrifies me. But not because of the craving for violence. Or the thrill kombat gives me. But because it doesn't bother me,it should. But it doesn't.
What should be an easy task to decide,for any sane moral person. Is difficult.
I sought some answers,and if anything comfort of another.
I finished my tea. Got up. And put on my boots and coat. Grabbed my umbrella. And went to the temple. I lived on the city limits but still was an easy walk to the temple that was near.
The temple of lord raiden. God of thunder,protector of earthrealm. Or as normal people call it....earth. yeah i know,confusing right? It was for me too the first time.
As i approached the temple gates. The torii. They loom with dark red. I can hear the soft sounds of the chimes and temple bells. Prayers of monks. And the serenity of this place.
However,no matter the peace. The welcoming faces and smiles. I still felt like i wasn't even on this planet. Lost in my own realm if that makes any sense. But i chalk that up to my anxiety,as i always tell myself. But im sure lord raiden would see right through that shit.
But i needed to talk to him. If anything just to tell me "you're overthinking,you need rest,something...tell me something."
I don't usually pray,i don't go to temples outside of with any neighbors or out of courtesy. I'm not heavily religious,i do believe in spirits and am open minded. As all things have a merit of truth to it. But this...praying to an actual deity i could touch,feel,talk to,as if they knew me and my soul since birth yet never really knew me. It's terrifying. But more so because of how at ease i felt with him. And how familiar he felt. Like a long lost friend.
His brother is much the same. Lord fujin,god the winds. But he is on a whole nother level of intense. I walked up to the shrine. Paid my tribute. Lit the incense,and bowed deeply once. Clapped my hands together and took a deep breath. In my prayer i asked for lord raiden to come visit me. To give me wisdom and insight. Comfort of my own storm inside my mind. The questions that burned still.
As i prayed. I could sense the incense getting dim in the dark but serene temple shrine.
It went out,smoke loomed and whisped.
Swirls of the smoke formed a face and a flash sparked in front of me. Not a large boom but a quick flash of light. Like the spark of the burning incense ignited in front of me and formed him.
Lord raiden. He stood before me,manifested.
A very tall man. Long white hair trailed down,slight waves of silver glinted in the strands. Eyes that glowed softy. A very silver-blue tint. With flickers of electricity in them,but soft...like the rain. A golden tint to his skin. Otherworldly yet so...human. tattoos of thunderstorms and swirling clouds laces his exposed arms. A sleeveless training gi he wore. White and grey. His presence never ceases to leave me in awe. Even after these many years of my mortal life.
"Lord raiden,i have come to ask of you humbly of your wisdom" i said with a slight shake in my voice as i bowed deep in respects.
He laughed as he crossed his arms and then sighed.
"You don't have to do that,you can just ask me. I told you i dislike formality outside of where it is nessicary. Especially from my former pupils"
*sigh* "but i appreciate it. As this is a temple."
I thanked him. Bowing again out of habit.
"Lord raiden....i wish to ask you some things that have been bothering me."
Raiden then looked at me with a smile.
"Of course,but let us speak about it somewhere more private" he led me to a tea house. The rain around us seeming falling away like we were in a bubble of energy....Still freaks me out.
He opened the shoji screen took off his sandels and so did i. We stepped inside and sat down.
Raiden got two cups,and poured the tea.
"Now,what is it that is bothering you krista?"
"You don't normally come to the temple so formally. In fact. I just hear you call my name and fujin my brother tells me. Our visits aren't this formal."
I sipped the tea,still shaking from nerves.
"L-lord raiden. I am going to be honest. And i apologize if I'm so blunt....but I'm absolutely terrified"
Lord raiden looks at me with concern but speaks with a calming tone.
"I can see that. Remember to breathe. You know i would never bring you harm or discomfort my dear."
"Now,what is it that is terrifying you? Making you so anxious as to call upon a god in an abnormal way for a practical woman such as yourself?"
I sat down the tea cup. Took a deep breath,slightly tearing up as i do. I hate sensory overload of my mind. I could sense he knew this. Hence the more private and quieter place of the teahouse.
"Lord raiden. I have been plagued with feelings. Feelings i am not sure if i should be feeling."
"After the tournament and returning to a swmi normal life. I have been feeling these on and off cravings for kombat. For violence. And i know that i fight for whats right. And to help protect my home. As you,many masters and many of my friends have done. But these feelings. I'm scared that i love kombat too much. That it doesn't bother me as much as it should. I've been told even by that sorcerer,shang tsung i have a nurturing soul. But if that's so? Why do i relish in kombat?"
Raiden sighed. Put down his cup. Took a breath and looked at me.
In the most serious but most insightful words he's ever spoken to me,said.
"Krista. I know of too well of how you feel. Many others have been in your shoes and down the same path as you. These feelings are normal. Everyone has them. Even me"
I looked at him,wiping my tears from the corners of my eyes.
"Even you lord raiden?" I said.
"Yes,even me. I get concerned with these feelings. Cravings as you stated. But i remember why i do what i do. Who i fight for,what i fight for. And truly there is no wrong answer. Only choice. There is no one way in handling your darker half. But you must. *pointing finger* you must accept it. If you are to become enlightened. You will continue to suffer,if you do not."
His words stung. But they are true.
"I feel you are in need of creature comforts. Not formalities."
"I know you krista. You indeed have a sweet soul *mutters: one thing i have to agree with the sorcerer* . *reaches arms out in gestures for a hug.* come,embrace me....you big softie"
I quickly rush to embrace him. Holding him tightly. I burst into tears,crying in his chest. Letting go the many many many months even years of pent up emotions.
"Why raiden?! Why is it so hard?! Why can't i see myself the way you do? Or my friends do. Why do i feel so lost?! It hurts. I hate fighting,but i know i need to. I'm so tired raiden."
I sob pleading for the hurt to stop.
His embrace and arms hold me tightly but gently. He rests his face ontop of my head kissing it gently and ernestly. His breath is warm but soft. Like a summer breeze.
"I know,i know it is. And you're allowed to feel tired. Believe me,I'm tired too. Have been for millennia now. *chuckles* but what we dont do is unpack there. You have such wisdom yourself. And the reason why you can't see yourself as the beautiful soul you are. Is simply because you are scared to. It's unfamiliar. And it's alright to feel this way. You are a natural healer. But you need to give yourself the love,the care,the space and the tenderness you give others. The fire and the inspiration you give my other warriors is incredible. But you,my dear *lifts chin up to look at him eye to eye* need to give yourself the same. Because that beautiful woman inside you,needs it the most."
"It's taken me much loss to see this too. I might be wise but even masters need teaching and refreshment too"
*i wipe my tears*
"Really? Like how?"
Raiden looked at me with his soften eyes. Slight sadness behind them.
"I have seen this before. Liu kang,the champion of earthrealm. Your friend and fellow warrior. Has felt these feelings before. I said very similar things to him. However unlike him. You have something very similar to shang tsung"
I was taken aback. Paused. And asked.
"S-shang tsung?! How so? That seems odd"
Raiden explains
"Ah but it's true. Shang tsung as you know him now. Wasn't always a sorcerer. Let alone the serpent he masquerades as."
"He was a warrior,just like you. A mortal whom wished nothing but to protect those he cared for. But he instead of sitting with his emotions. He gave into rage. Although i did not help him in this time which he needed me the most. I did not give him the comfort he sought. As i am doing with you right now. Even liu kang i struggled with. Though not nearly as much"
"You see my dear,i do not always have an answer. Even if i did,i wouldn't know how to truly give it."
"Shang tsung was also a healing soul. Much like you. He was always trying his best to fight for those he loved. Much like liu kang. But unlike liu kang,he didn't have the same experiences of friendship,closeness,and love as my many other warriors i have trained in my eternal life"
I asked raiden after getting this insight.
"Lord raiden. If shang tsung,did have that do you think he'd be different?"
Raiden sighed
"Perhaps. This knaws at me every day. But then again. Perhaps not. It's hard to say. But this isn't about him. What i am trying to tell you. Is don't let that spark die out. You keep that faith. Please. If not in me,if not in the cause for you realm. Then the principals of you as a warrior and a healing force"
"Never forget krista that there are people that love you. Genuinely. That your friends love you. That i lo..that you are important."
I looked at him,slightly catching that pause.
But smiled and continued sitting and laying against his chest.
"Domo,raiden-sama. I needed this"
Raiden smiled rubbing my back.
"Of course,anytime"
He kissed the top of my head.
We then chatted some more. But i remembered i needed to get home.
Raiden looked at me and said. "I could fly you there. It's not far right?" "I mean it beats walking" raising a brow with a cheeky expression.
"Well yeah i mean. I guess it would" i said. But before i could continue. He picked me up. Scooping me bridal style. And flew out the doors of the teahouse.
Not a single raindrop hit us as we flew down the road in the sky.
We came to my apartment patio. He sat me down.
I said to him
"Thank you raiden,for everything."
He smiled at me and said
"Of course. Oh and next time? Just call my name and I'll be there."
I laughed a bit at that. "Of course lord raiden" smiling as he flew off.
I felt lighter. But i still wondered...why did he feel like he had guilt for shang tsung being how he was. If it was his choice than why feel guilt over something he chose? What happened?" But i guess that was for another visit. But more importantly than that.
"What was that pause when he said that i am loved? Could he have been trying to say that he loves....nah. I'm overthinking it."
But i couldn't help but blush at the thought.
The rain felt more calm now.
I got my cup and brewed some tea.
Sat down. And gave the rain a proper listen this time...it's beautiful. Just like the god that creates it. Like a beautiful haiku,a song,or a painter.
The tea was good too.
My soul was at ease now.
His eyes,Soft...like the rain.
#mortal kombat#raiden#lord raiden#raiden mortal kombat#raiden blurb#mortal kombat blurb#my writing#self ship#self shipping#💙⚡thunder's devotion⚡💙#super self indulgent
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Hi hi again! 🫧 back just to say a few things !
I just wanted to say that I love your writing style, it just always makes me feel so immersed in the story! I also love and adore how sweet you are on your blog, it makes me feel rlly comfy and makes me look forward to your uploads even more!! Lately I’ve been struggling with motivation to continue writing and actually post more frequently, and I was just wondering if you had any tips for motivation! I’ve lacked motivation and time and I mean I know you can’t help on the time aspect but I was hoping maybe you had some advice for motivation! 🫶🫶
helloo welcome back angel! i hope you’ve been doing well ^_^
first off thank you so much u flatter me 😭 that’s smth i value a lot so it means a lot to me that you think so! and i’m so glad you feel comfortable here as well! you always have such sweet things to say, i really appreciate you n all your lovely words of support ♡
abt the struggles w motivation, i definitely understand where you’re coming from. i think it’s pretty natural for everyone who writes to go through periods where you're either overflowing w ideas, or you have to drag yourself to your wip kicking and screaming 😭 in my experience, the hardest part is almost always just getting yourself started. once you encourage yourself to begin writing, even if you only get a little bit done, it’s still progress! more often than not, you’ll end up naturally gaining momentum and before you know it you’ve written way more than you’d anticipated!
a smart way to go abt it may be to tell yourself that you don’t have to complete a lot in one sitting, just write what you can without any expectations and eventually you’ll find your rhythm. if you’re having trouble getting through a certain scene or section, a trick i sometimes use is to write out lines of dialogue or actions that i know for sure i want to include later on. if there’s a part you have planned that you’re really excited to write, try writing it out first and then ask yourself how you’ll get from point a to point b. this method can be super useful bc if you’re very invested in the scene, it’ll be much more enjoyable for you to write and you may feel more compelled to fill in the gaps surrounding it afterwards!
other forms of media can also play a big role in getting you motivated! music especially is one of the best ways to get yourself excited abt the piece you're working on in my opinion. listening to songs where the lyrics match really well with the scenario you're writing and/or the feelings you're trying to convey, or even listening to instrumentals that cultivate the right atmosphere, can work wonders for your drive to write and even provide you with new ideas. music is one of the most powerful motivators for me!
another thing i want to mention is that a good chunk of my fics were requests from my old blog! if you’re the type of person who might benefit from knowing that someone is waiting on a fic from you, then taking requests from ppl could be worth a shot! it can also help stimulate your creativity if the requester has a specific thing in mind they’d like you to include in the work. ofc, if you feel like it would only stress you out to have the expectation of completing it hanging over your head, then definitely avoid doing that to yourself. all in all it should be a (mostly) fun experience so don’t push yourself too hard if you’ve tried everything you can and still feel no inspiration to finish a certain wips. if there’s a story you’ve been dying to tell, focus on that and be as self-indulgent as you want! whenever you’re enjoying yourself, it often translates into the writing 🥰
apologies for the colossal response 😭 but i hope it makes sense and can help you out somehow! best of luck babe i’ll be cheering for you <3
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so i'm that person who has never really considered reading fanfics that ship severus with any of the marauders. i have come to learn over the years that fanfics are completely self indulgent --- as they should be --- but sometimes that sacrifices plausibility. as in to say, could this REALLY happen? and sometimes i can suspend my disbelief and roll with it and other times, i struggle if there's no slowburn where necessary.
in the case of snape, you've got 4 people who spent the vast majority of his school life bullying him. and remus does NOT get a pass here because you're just as guilty if you're allowing it / enabling it / not speaking up. so even with remus, who nearly killed sev on accident, i cannot see a scenario without a shit ton of slow burn, where sev would even want to be near him, let alone date him.
and i imagine when remus was hired at hogwarts, sev probably tore albus a new one. like 'HOW DARE YOU HIRE HIM KNOWING WHAT HE IS...' because despite sev being a changed man, some trauma is harder to let go. and don't get me wrong. i love albus to death. he is my son, but he's also my very manipulative son who will sacrifice a person's comfort for what he deems 'the greater good'. and severus' comfort is sacrificed often. some would argue its deserved given how he was a death eater but no man is perfect. albus is not perfect. he dated a potential lord voldemort in gellert and KNEW what the man was deep inside so i mean... its a fine line if mistakes and imperfections but also good intentions in some areas.
all of that to say, i can never see a romantic relationship realistically working out with snape and a marauder UNLESS its slow burn AND a lot of things are discussed / apologized for on both ends AND lots of reassurance. Because honestly, if one of the marauders actually took a interest in snape, he'd assume it was one long, laborate joke. even as an adult, he'd assume they were having one last go at him on James' behalf and i don't think he'd ever truly believe one could care about him. the wound is too deep. he'd spend years wondering when the jig was up because anyone could have sex. anyone could SAY they love you. but snape's used to being used, manipulated, ect by those who claim to care so just... idk. romance for him in general would be hard.
and yeah i read snarry but its the same deal. there's a LOT of hurdles to overcome there starting with the fact that potter is the seed of the woman he once obsessed over and loved and the man he loathed beyond words.
but anyway, i will probably blog a lot of the fanart of these ships cos the art's so pretty. but just know its not me trying to push ships on people cos it would take plotting and time and a willingness for our characters to admit their wrongdoing. and they're all proud men so if it never happens, its totes cool.
as a side note, one night stands --- always possible. its the romantic, long term stuff that would take ages.
#﹂ ʾ . ⭒ ❝ reveal your secrets — discourse .#( discourse. )#﹂ ʾ . ⭒ ❝ dumbledore — isms .#﹂ ʾ . ⭒ ❝ severus snape — isms .#// ill write one night stands#and smut fics or random encounters#but building off of them into something actually 'romantic'#will take time#although its a lot easier with some characters than others
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Welcome to My Island - Excerpt 1
I was going to wait until I finished this fic before posting any of it, but I accidentally made it like 90,000+ words so here is some of the first portion. This is super whimsical and self-indulgent, but above all: porny. Enjoy.
George/Max, girl!Max, public masturbation in a truth-or-dare-esque scenario, ~700 words
“So what,” Charles suddenly interjects. “You jerk off to the idea of getting P1?”
“Doesn’t have to be P1,” George replies without meeting his eyes. It’s not Charles’s turn, which means George doesn’t technically have to answer, but George can feel Max’s eyes boring into him, expectant, and he feels compelled to challenge Charles’s assumption even though the truth is infinitely more embarrassing than letting the misconception stand. “We just both have to finish.”
“With you on top,” Daniel adds with a smirk, evoking giggles from both Heidi and Charlotte.
Max doesn’t laugh, and when George finally glances over at her, she’s staring at him with a concerned expression—the sort that you might turn on someone whose face is literally melting. Fair enough, he thinks. That’s about how it feels with all the blood in his body rushing unbidden to his cheeks and ears, flushing him hot and cold all at the same time.
Thankfully, Charlotte transitions smoothly into her turn without any prompting. “Daniel,” she says quickly, clearly having already put some thought into her question while the rest of them went around. “Fuck, marry, kill: Toto, Christian, Mattia.”
Daniel scoffs loudly. “Fuck Toto, marry Christian, kill Mattia,” he replies almost instantly. “Easy.” He glances over at Charles and gives a faux-apologetic smile. “Sorry, mate.”
“There’s no need to apologize to me,” Charles replies with a laugh. “I would pick the same.”
He clears his throat and sits up a little straighter as the laugh fades, his eyes scanning the others with an uncharacteristic seriousness.
“My turn, then?” he says, waiting for Daniel’s nod of affirmation before alighting on Max. She sighs long-sufferingly but with a smile. “How many people have you slept with?” Charles asks with an answering grin.
The smile on Max’s face immediately fades. “I—well…”
“If you don’t want to answer, you can always take the hard way out,” Daniel reminds her with a smirk.
Max bites down on her lip until it goes white from the pressure. A few seconds go by as she deliberates, and then finally, she slips down into the water and turns to face the hot tub jet.
“Make sure she doesn’t cheat,” Daniel instructs George, who has absolutely no intention of following through.
George can barely look at her now, unable to see much more than the flex of her arm and shoulder as she maneuvers into a suitable position on her knees. It’s harder for her than it had been for Daniel—usually the girls hook their legs over the side to get the right angle, but George would rather throw himself off the cliff and into the ocean than suggest Max do that.
“I don’t cheat,” Max retorts, tossing a glare over her shoulder in Daniel’s direction.
To her credit, there’s no need for George to make sure of anything. It’s painfully obvious as soon as the stream of water makes contact with Max’s clit through her swimsuit.
Her fingers clench hard enough around the lip of the deck that George wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow managed to crack right through the tile, and her breathing abruptly goes ragged as she violently trembles and shakes.
George stares at her with his mouth hanging open. He can feel the blood rushing from his cheeks to his dick so fast it hurts, and he’s already half-hard in his swim trunks by the time Max stops coming.
“Fuck,” Daniel comments in an awe-struck voice as Max peels herself away from the jet and curls into the fetal position on the bench, still evidently trying to catch her breath. She doesn’t meet his, or anyone else’s, eyes. “Well, that was fucking—something.” He turns to George without warning. “Does she always have a hair-trigger?”
“Not your turn,” George responds automatically. His brain is still mush. He can’t think, let alone navigate the treacherous waters of Daniel poking and prodding at the nature of his relationship with Max.
“It actually is his turn,” Charles points out. “Technically.”
Daniel aims the full force of his smugness at George. “So?”
#f1 fic#maxgeorge#f1 smut#george x max#max x george#ok to reblog!#encouraged even#as long as you are nice to me in the tags
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