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sashi-ya · 4 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝒀 january free requestsㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ aizen sosuke x f! reader

🕊️ request: anon ⋆｡˚ May I ask about a NSFW scenario of Aizen x afab reader have sex but they have to keep it low because there is a party in the house and people might catch them? It could be even more interesting if they’re not even supposed to talk to each other. Thanks for your hard work on here! 💗 🕊️ tw: mdni. Mafia AU. Aizen's younger brother could be anyone! however since it is not a fic, but a scenario, I didn't want to go much further BUT in my mind it was supposed to be Gin (if you really like this fic I could write more with more than one chap cause I love mafia au and traitors :P) . Kyoka Suigetsu is a gun in this AU. so, usage of gun. fingering. kissing. slap. hair pulling. unprotected sex. fear play? gun play? maybe. (Not so much of a play). wc: 1,4k 🕊️masterlist

For the sake of the business, of the families… Promised to Sosuke’s little brother, there you sit watching the night pass by. Or maybe, just maybe, the handsome features of the oldest of the Aizens.

As always, these parties are never fun, specially knowing all of the men in there carry guns in between their hipbones and clothes.

Is not ok for you to speak more than what you are expected to; the daughter of a mafia boss holds power, but apparently not rights.

To ensure the prosperity of your family’s business they have agreed on an arranged marriage in between the youngest heirs of both of the most powerful mafia clans in all the country…

“Mrs. (Name), are you enjoying the party? Has my little brother already left you alone? What is that man thinking?!” your future brother-in-law asks. His chocolate eyes fix into yours, taking advantage of the power they have on you. He knows very well that his younger sibling cares nothing about getting married, and even if he ends it up doing it he won’t engage into the “good husband” life.

“Aizen-sama, yes. He told me he wanted to dance, I think… but he is probably drinking with… you know” you murmur, ashamed. Is not that you care about him, you don’t even wish to touch him. However, there is one you want to touch, to kiss… him, Aizen Sosuke, the older sibling.

Aizen smirks with class and blinks slowly. He presents his hand with his palm up to you; Sosuke is actually asking you to take his hand and follow him. But should you do it? This could be considered as some kind of treason… what would they do if someone see the younger bride to be on her own engagement party leaving with the brother of the groom?

Well… if your life is about to become hell, might as well do it faster.

You place your hand on his; he slickly looks to the sides and then again at you. With a soft smirk, something like a caring façade that’s nothing but a lie, he pulls you up.

“Follow me, (Name). Please”

And you do. You follow him, and you walk right behind him like following the devil walking you into hell.

The long halls of the Aizen family’s manor can easily be mistaken for a maze. The big windows ahead, show the beautiful scenery that surrounds their lands; a tropical paradise on a steamy summer night. You can see the waves crashing on the coast, that’s barely a few meters from the house. The moon reflect its white silver shine that’s tinted in a little bit of red, on the water… like a flower on a pond, so beautifully unreachable.

“Sosuke, where are we going?” you ask, knowing what you are doing but not exactly where.

He turns around, stopping in the middle of a carpeted covered hall. His eyes scan you up and down, strategically stopping by the high cut skirt of your dress. Sosuke, then, walks a couple of steps towards you and places the soft surface of his fingertips on your chest.

“Your heart is racing…” he whispers, with his face close enough for you to feel his warm breath kissing your skin.

Your eyelashes flutter a couple of times, while your lips slowly separate. Whether you wished to say something or not, you knew you simply couldn’t.

“I know our families have arranged your marriage, but… I have a better plan” he adds, coming even closer to your face. Right there, so dangerously exposed to anyone that decided to walk those halls.

“You do…?” you ask, hoping for a better future, trusting in the man that could be your enemy… that in fact, is still one until you finally marry his brother.

He nods, slowly. Aizen’s hand reaches for your face, placing his fingers on your mandible and his thumb on your lip. He sloppily plays with it, getting you ready for him, spell bounding you, making you stupidly weak for him…

Sosuke pushes you back, unexpectedly. You trip but he catches you and guides you to a random room.

Inside, the luxury never stops, and the scent of chocolate invades you. It’s delicious and it seems to be coming from some steamer. The place is not looking like a pantry but rather a place where massages are done. And in fact, when you turn around, there is a massage bed and many decorations around that reminds you of a spa.

“I didn’t know this place existed” you giggle, knowing this home is about to become your home… well, at least if you make it alive from tonight.

Sosuke scoffs, just enough to make your core wetter, and your legs weaker. He comes closer to you, always with that calm way of walking. Calm and dominant. Calm and dangerous… oh but so attractively.

He lifts you up to sit you on top of the bed. It creeks just a little, and the soft surface welcomes you like you are landing on a cloud. Immediately after, he softly slaps your knees to spread your legs and then get in between them.

Your face reaches his chest height, and your eyes discover the little spot of caramel skin right in between his collar bones. You are tempted to kiss; you are tempted to touch, to let him do it anything he wants.

“I must ask you to keep it quiet; even if this place is huge… walls can hear” he urges you, passing his hand towards the back of your head.

“I will try~” is the last phrase your lips pronounce that make sense, because the next sounds abandon your lips will be just moans and whines…

Sosuke kisses you, violently. So imprudent, so sinfully. He has no trace of regret nor shame for messing with his brother future wife, neither do his hands. Your breasts, freed by a sudden pull on your neckline’s dress, await for him to enjoy them. Your right inner thigh can feel the protruding “Kyouka Suigetsu” carving on your skin… his so well-known gun, that he carries everywhere in between his pants and his sweet, milk and coffee skin.

The silence gets tinted in soft moaning and panting, as well as the sound of his fingers crawling inside you. In and out he goes, straightly to the point. He wants your walls to be stretched enough to receive his now hard rock sex. A hard rock sex you can clearly also feel from time to time, as he grazes against your dampened sex. You are sure his light brown pants are already stained in your arousal, and you don’t mind…

“You are very tight, aren’t you? But you are still taking it very well…” Sosuke asks in your ear, while he forces two fingers instead of one deep inside you. “Did my brother fuck you already?”

You shake, taking the unproper right to pass your arms over his shoulders. “Not yet, he still thinks I’m a virgin…” you whisper back, revealing a lie that could cost your and your family’s heads.

Aizen smirks so devilishly, as if the new information he has just learned about you represented more than a simple lie…

“Then, I won’t be soft… you know that? You little lying bitch?” he says, walking back and taking his gun out of his “secret” not to secret spot. “Go as hard as you wish, Sosuke… we are both traitors by now” you spit, receiving the cold tip of his Kyoka on your thigh.

You lick your upper lip, slowly smudging the already bleed out red lipstick. Even the strongest can faulter when it comes to lust, because Aizen hand slightly trembles… and the trigger he should have pulled, it doesn’t get pulled. And the gun now rests, so dangerously by your side, so next to your own hand.

He softly slaps your cheek, while the other pulls from your hair back. Your neck exposed; his teeth carved on your flesh. The sound of his zipper going down; the stretching feeling of his manhood piercing your walls integrity.

You carve your heels on the small of Sosuke’s back, while he fucks you so rough. You don’t want him to stop, you want him to keep going. Your pinkie can feel the cold metallic surface of the gun resting on the bed. But his does too...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...who will grab it first?

#aizen sōsuke #aizen x reader #aizen sousuke #aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen #aizen bleach #bleach x reader #bleach #bleach anime #bleach x reader fanfic #bleach fanfic #muken aizen #sashi ya #aizen smut

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gentrychild · 1 year

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So, we have a few Anyone time travel fics. But this is what I'd kill for: while on a job Shouto is hit by a quirk. Next thing he knows he's back at his father's place, except things seem different. That's when he sees himself in the mirror, he time travelled. Now Shouto is stuck as a chubby-cheeked toddler who wants to keep his big brother around, stop his mom from having a mental breakdown and convince his dad to send him to a public school so that he can befriend his future platonic soulmate

Oh, this has the potential to be absolutely hilarious.

Shouto is very aware of what's waiting for him. His brother almost dying and running away. His mother's break down. Endeavor being Endeavor. He will have to wait ten years before being happy again and let's be honest, he isn't waiting that long.

Fortunately, he has read enough manhwa with time travel to know what to do. His first target is Touya, who still hates him at the time but who isn’t crispy yet. Shouto follows him around, proclaiming that he adores his brother. Touya hates it at first but Shouto is very adorable and slowly wins him over.

Natsuo and Fuyumi are very jealous that Touya is Shouto’s favorite. Shouto doesn’t care. Shouto can now play football with his siblings and have semi normal bonds with them.

One of the early storylines would be Endeavor suddenly having to deal with his small child flat out not caring about him anymore/actively disliking him. (Remember that this is pre training.) This feels extremely weird since their parents are everything to children and he slowly grows desperate because Shouto apparently hates him? Out of the blue? Rei, who has stopped watching her kids swith eagle eyes in fear of what her children could do to each other, is happy that they finally get along, points out that he isn’t passing enough time with the kids. Endeavor has a realization and tries to be a better dad. (The results are varied.)

Endeavor: “I have decided to take some vacations to spend more time with my lovely family!“

Touya: “Really? It’s the first time you-”

Shouto: “No one asked you.”

Endeavor: T_T

Baby Shouto keeps following Touya around with a fire extinguisher that is bigger than him. Just in case.

When Shouto is five, All Might disappears from the radar for a couple of months, right after an island was vaporized. Shouto realizes that the AFO and All Might fight happened and that Izuku is now dadless and about to become destitute. He informs his dad that he is moving elementary school. More precisely, that he is going to transfer to a very sub par elementary school that isn’t even in the same town he lives.

Endeavor: “How about no?”

Shouto: “I wasn’t asking.”

To summarize, Shouto might have run away from his perfectly good elementary school and reappeared in Izuku and Katsuki’s elementary school. The number 2 hero in person comes and retrieves his toddler.

Sadly, Izuku wasn’t here that day because he was so sad that his dad hadn’t even called for his birthday that he stayed home.

After several similar incidents, Endeavor and Rei force Shouto to tell him what is going on.

Baby Shouto, grabbing baby Izuku by the shoulder: “This is my best friend, Izuku. If I am not in the same school as him, I will cry.”

Izuku: “I don’t know this boy. His eyes scare me.”

Shouto: “I have unlimited budget for All Might merch that I am willing to share with my friends.”

Izuku: “...”

Izuku: “Ah yes, Shouto, my best friend. I add that I will also cry if he doesn’t get what he wants and yes, this is a flooding threat.”

Shouto becomes Izuku’s best friend/fierce protector, which makes things fun for Bakugou. Izuku is not bullied. (Shouto was called to the principal’s office several times but Bakugo < the son of the number 2. Izuku and Shouto probably transfers when they reach middle school. Inko still goes abroad to work and the Todorokis offer to take Izuku in but Izuku is fiercely independent, so they just keep an eye on him.

Years pass but no trace of Anyone appears.

Shouto realizes that Anyone was created because Izuku needed support and now that he has Shouto, it’s not needed anymore. At first, he doesn’t know how to feel about it. It feels like he deprived Izuku of a part of himself.

But in the end, if it means his best friend didn’t have to go through all that hardship, it’s worth it.

The very next day, Izuku appears with a broken arm and a toddler, admitting that he might have hidden from Shouto his slightly illegal organization and his plan to steal All Might’s quirk so he wouldn’t be implicated. But everything went to hell. Now, he needs help.

Shouto is delighted.

And will have his revenge on Izuku not making him part of the quirk heist operation.

#anyone: shouto time travels edition #anyone fic

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heartsofminds · 2 years

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Masterlist

A/N: Hello, and welcome to my official masterlist! This is extraordinarily overdue and I will try and keep the masterlist as up-to-date as possible. For now, enjoy all my work and future projects in one place! I’m so excited to share my writing with you all.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

at every table, i’ll save you a seat - part i.

“Well, apparently Baby Goose’s been losing his mind ‘round the base about how this really smart and sweet girl invited him to a wedding and won’t text him about it.” or you invite Bradley to a wedding but your big fat crush on him won’t let you actually. . .invite him.

at least i let the light in - part i.

"The collage of versions of Bradley she had gotten to know and love so well over the years of their friendship blind her with sorrow and sadness. She truly knows him in a way that no one else ever will, and while part of her takes pride in that, another part of her wishes there was someone else to help share the load because she’s tired. " or Bradley has a huge problem and Natasha is always right even when she doesn't want to be - the sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you

Blooming - part i. part ii. part iii.

“Little spring chicken you are!” he smiles, “You’re too young for me to take you out.” or She’s in love with Bradley Bradshaw and he thinks she’s too young.

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you

“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).

my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Pink Stripes

Jake rolls his eyes. “I need to come over.”

“Is that how you talk to your hook-ups? Cause if so, I’m still not seeing the appeal.” or Jake Seresin’s upbringing shapes him into the best Navy pilot there is and also the best dad ever.

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libraryofantiquitea · 1 year

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𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡.

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x civilian female reader

summary: jake visits you at the gallery where you work after he's done training for the day. it becomes very apparent that you've both caught feelings.

warnings: explicit, minors do not interact! oh look, it's smut again! but this time there is [drumroll] some plot! unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), jake being turned on by his own callsign.

word count: 5.1k

author's notes: no beta, we die like goose. mainly because i didn't want to subject anyone to how long this part is!

i hadn't intended for this to become a series, but this is the third part in august slipped away.

previous: pt. i | tell me my name pt. ii | tokyo summer

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥

There was a small art gallery just outside of Miramar; if you wanted to wander around for hours you’d need to make your way into the city proper to go to the San Diego Museum of Art, but if you just wanted to browse some more local art and perhaps purchase a painting or piece of artwork, Evergreen Brush was there for all of your artsy needs.

And that was where you worked as a curator, helping select the pieces and artists that you featured, and turning on your charm to sell artwork to sailors and aviators who might not know the first thing about artwork but wanted a little piece of San Diego to bring home with them.

Jake had texted you early in the morning, he was training pretty much all day but would come and pick you up after you closed the gallery and take you out. For what, he didn’t say, but you didn’t really give a damn where you went, you just wanted to spend time with him.

You had just flipped the sign on the door over to CLOSED for the evening as the familiar sound of fighter jets passed overhead, and you idly wondered if Jake was in one of them.

Fidgeting with some of the everyday rings you wore on your fingers, you wandered further into the gallery to do your “end of day” tasks. It had been a few weeks since you’d met Jake at The Hard Deck, a few weeks since you’d begun this situationship with him. You had promised yourself a very long time ago that you’d never get involved with another military man, but then had realized that if you were going to live in Fightertown that you really didn’t have much of a choice if you wanted to date ever again.

Jake was the type you should’ve run away from, but you had been powerless then to say no to his invitation out for a drink. He was definitely the type you’d normally go out with once, bring back to your home for the night, and that would be that. But there was something incredibly disarming about him that you hadn’t anticipated, a wall that he knocked down everytime you were in his presence.

You got the feeling that wasn’t something that he did often, and wondered what made you so special.

That first night, Jake had told you that he didn’t know how long he would be around. He couldn’t tell you much about what he was doing, it was very hush hush, but you got the impression that the mission was perilous enough that he might not return. And even if he did, this wasn’t where he would be posted long term. Whenever he left that would be it.

You’d had relationships, flings, with expiration dates before, but this was different. With the unknown “best before” date looming over your head, you tried your hardest not to catch feelings. It was fucking impossible with the likes of Jake Seresin.

Sighing, setting some invoices down on the counter, you raised your head and looked across the room to a series of abstract paintings, hoping they would put your mind at ease, quell the noise that would just not shut up.

There was no future with Jake, so it was best to just have a good time while you had him.

Convincing yourself of that was easier said than done.

In the employee lounge, the owner kept all kinds of liquor. Wine, whiskey, beer, anything a customer making a big purchase, an artist making a big sale, or a stressed out curator might crave. You made your way back there and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, knowing that it was Jake’s favourite. You didn’t know if he’d want to stick around, or what manner of plans he had for you both when he inevitably arrived, but there was no way you were going to have a drink and not offer him some.

You were just wrapping up recording sales for the day when there was a knock on the door. Glass of whiskey lifted halfway to your lips, you looked over to see Jake at the front door, hands in his pockets, smiling broadly when you made eye contact.

You giggled, feeling like a teenager being picked up for a school dance.

Somehow you managed to keep yourself from running to the door, though you moved as quickly as your feet and self respect could take you. From the other side of the door, Jake held your gaze as you unlocked it, before swinging it open and allowing him access.

“Hey darlin’,” he said brightly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close for a kiss.

“Hey,” you murmured, returning his kiss and draping your arms over his shoulder. “Gimmie a sec and I’ll lock the door.”

You mournfully pulled yourself from Jake’s embrace and moved to lock the door, while he stepped further into the gallery. “I never knew this place existed until you told me about it,” he said, looking around at some of the paintings.

“I don’t think it’s in the pamphlets they give you when you arrive at TOPGUN about sights to see while you’re here,” you teased, locking up and turning around. “I found a bottle of whiskey in the break room. Would you like some?”

“Baby girl,” Jake said, tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrows as he turned to look at you. “C’mon.”

You grinned so brightly that your face hurt, and you walked over to the counter to pour a glass for Jake and another one for yourself.

“Very different work environment from mine,” Jake teased, taking a glass and then clinking it against yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you repeated, watching him for a moment before taking a sip from your glass.

You couldn’t stop watching him; the way his Adam's apple bobbed as the alcohol slid down his throat, the way his green eyes practically twinkled in the low light, the closeness of him when he truly did not have to be that close at all.

It had been a few days since you’d seen him, and all you could think about was the last time you had seen him. Your face felt warm, and whether it was from Jake’s presence or the liquor you would never truly know.

“I just need to finish some paperwork, and then I’m all yours for the night,” you said, shuffling some papers and clearing your throat. More for your own benefit than Jake’s. “Feel free to have a browse.”

Jake smiled at you, before slowly pacing over to the wall of paintings. “I think I will, darlin’.”

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to look down to finish what you had been working on, even if your eyes wanted to follow Jake through the gallery, watch the way his hand clutched at the glass of whiskey, the broad span of his shoulders, his perfect ass.

You told yourself the sooner you got done with paperwork, the sooner your hands could busy themselves with something else.

It was just as you were finishing up that you heard Jake say, “Could you tell me more about this one?”

Smiling, you moved from behind the counter, grabbing your drink along the way and sauntering over to where Jake was standing. When you realized exactly which painting he was talking about, something in your stomach began to flutter.

It was one of yours.

“Well,” you began, as you stood next to Jake, “this is a contemporary figurative painting. The artist specializes in the genres of portraiture and landscape. But, with this painting she has found a way to … sort of combine the two.” You looked out the corner of your eye to observe Jake, to find that he was hanging on your every word, and seemed genuinely interested. “The landscape in question is the artist’s own body.”

“Hmm,” Jake hummed, before looking closely. “She’s laying down, right? The curves of her body look like rolling hills.”

“That was precisely her intent,” you continued, looking over at Jake. “She isn’t always her body’s biggest fan, and society as a whole still has a problem with bodies that don’t fit the typical beauty standard. So, she is subverting their judgemental gaze by focusing on just a small part of her body, at an angle that most people would not see her in.”

Jake inhaled sharply, as if processing, and you briefly wondered if you’d made yourself too vulnerable, put too much on the table. Of course you and Jake had enjoyed some deeper discussions since meeting, and you’d talked about your art with him, but this was different than all of that. This was opening up in a way that you didn’t with even people you’d known for quite a long time. He’d be right to be put off by it.

“I think it’s stunning,” Jake said quietly, before polishing off what remained of his whiskey and then letting his arm hang loosely at his side, holding the glass by the rim. “And I’ve seen this body from this angle. It’s one of the most gorgeous and magnetic things I’ve ever seen.”

“Jake,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. You were alternately touched and thought that he was putting on quite the show.

“What?” he asked, turning his attention from the painting to look over at you, eyebrow raised quizzically.

“You don’t have to flatter me so much,” you said, reaching for the empty glass and offering him a smile. “You already have me.”

“Darlin’,” Jake began, his voice dropping into that low register that drove you wild, “I’m not … saying that to try and butter you up. This is gorgeous.” He gestured to the painting. “I don’t know much about art, but I think I know what I like.” He paused, simply looking into your eyes for a moment. “I want to buy it.”

“Jake,” you began, biting at your bottom lip and shaking your head slightly. “C’mon. You don’t really want to buy a painting of my back curving into my ass. There are so many better paintings here. If you want some art I’d be happy to -”

“I’m not playing at something,” Jake insisted, brow furrowing as you turned toward the breakroom. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey. I like you. We wouldn’t be doing … this, if I didn’t. I like your art. I want to buy some.”

You’d whirled around, facing him, and swallowed hard. God, he was going to make you talk about all of this, wasn’t he?

“I can make you some art. Some better art. You don’t want that one,” you insisted. “Besides, it costs far too much money.”

“So give me a discount then,” Jake said, smiling at you. You set the empty glasses down on a nearby shelf. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to have this?”

“Do you really want a painting of a part of my naked body?” you asked incredulously, raising your eyebrows. “I have so much better work than that. Something that will actually look nice hanging in your home. Something that people won’t ask you questions about.”

“Yes, I want a painting of a part of your naked body,” Jake insisted, reaching for your hand. “I really like your naked body. I really like you. Besides it would be nice to have something -”

“Don’t.”

“- to remember you.”

Even though you had desperately wanted to have this conversation, even though your heart threatened to beat out of the space behind your rib cage every time you thought of him, the last thing that you wanted to talk about was the after. Aside from a couple of slip ups, you’d generally done pretty well about ignoring the fact that this was all going to end.

Somehow, Jake acknowledging it made the whole thing real, and worse, stating that he wanted to remember you felt like a dagger to your heart.

“We agreed not to talk about it,” you said simply, trying to turn away from him, but he was still holding on tightly to your wrist.

Jake pulled you toward him, against his chest, and held you close. “I know,” he said, a kindness in his voice as he relinquished his hold on your wrist to brush your hair away from his face. “I know we did. But, as we’ve established, I like you, want to remember you after I leave. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Because we agreed that when this was over, whenever that might be, that we wouldn’t,” you said sternly, trying desperately to act like your heart wasn’t cracking open like a ship against the rocks. But in a good way. You didn’t want to hold back what you felt, but you did it because of what you’d both agreed to. “And now you’re trying to change the rules. That’s not fair.”

Jake pursed his lips together. “You’re right, it’s not.” You puffed your chest out, having felt like you’d won a little victory. “But I never said I was fair.” He held you a little closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. “I like you. A lot. More than I was anticipating. I don’t want to act like you don’t mean anything to me. You do. I’m not going to forget you when this is over. How could I?”

“I don’t want to talk about the expiration date,” you murmured, a little breathless. Jake was leaning in closer to you, his nose bumping against yours. “We have right now. We’ll worry about later when we get there.”

It was easy enough to say. You had been worrying about later since yours and Jake’s first date, when he’d left your home and headed back to the base, while you had sat on the floor, his come dripping down your thighs.

You wouldn’t have changed what the two of you had for anything in the world. Even if it would inevitably be painful in a matter of weeks.

“Right now,” Jake murmured in agreement. God, he was so close. You tried to close the space between you and he pulled back a little, smirking at you with a flash of perfect, white teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Fuck, you hated him in that moment. “I kind of want to bend you over something and fuck you.”

“Jake.”

“Dress hiked up over your hips,” he continued, his hands moving down along your sides before settling on your aforementioned hips.

“Jake,” you repeated, wrapping an arm around his neck and trying to haul him closer. He still wouldn’t kiss you, and you decided that you were done playing fair. With your free hand you reached down between Jake’s legs, and grabbed his stiffening cock through his pants.

“Fuck,” he growled, hips canting forward toward your touch.

“Hike my dress up over my hips then,” you breathed, squeezing him gently through his jeans, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Raw me.”

He said nothing, and instead gave you that kiss that you had so been craving. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle, and there was the very real possibility that your teeth knocking together would result in a trip to the dentist for one of you. But you didn’t care. It was so passionate, so incredibly raw, and you lived for the intensity that he put into every kiss that he bestowed upon your waiting and eager lips.

You found yourself crowded against a wall, between two contemporary impressionist paintings, and visions of your first time together flooded back in your mind. Not one to reminisce while in the process of being ravished, you turned your attention back to what was happening in the then and now, Jake’s teeth scraping along the column of your throat. You tangled a hand in his hair, loving the feeling of the soft tendrils wrapping around your fingers, where his hair was a little longer.

During a moment of respite, where you both needed to come up for air, you held Jake’s gaze as you hiked your dress up slowly, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and shoving them down your legs. Jake didn’t tear his eyes away from yours, but you could tell from the shift in his breathing that he wanted to. Your underwear off, you relinquished your hold on the hem of your dress and reached forward, palming Jake’s hardening cock through his jeans.

“Do you want me, love?” you rasped, and only regretted calling him love a little bit. It was a term of endearment that you used with many people, but it seemed like such a loaded word with him.

“Yes,” he gasped, still rapt as he looked into your eyes, nodding his head slowly as you began to undo his belt.

“Do you want to split my pussy open on your thick cock?” you purred, pulling the belt from its loops and tossing it onto the floor.

Jake leaned forward slightly, bracing one hand against the wall, the other against your throat. You gasped, tipping your head back slightly as he applied just the slightest bit of pressure. “Yes,” he growled, that southern drawl making your cunt pulse around nothing, his thumb smoothing over the delicate skin along the column of your throat.

Your hands trembling, you shoved the waistband of his shorts down just enough to free him. Your hand circled around his length, stroking him slowly, and you marvelled at how wet he was already, how eager he was. Whenever you were together you never doubted how much he wanted you. It was always quite apparent.

The angle was all wrong - he had several inches on you height-wise. Jake dipped his head down, claiming your mouth in one final brutal kiss, before he reluctantly pulled himself away. You whimpered, but didn’t have long to look at him questioningly, or look at him at all. He grabbed you roughly and turned you around, slamming your front against the wall. Your hands automatically went out to brace yourself, and you let out a satisfied groan.

“Not too rough?” he asked you.

“No,” you replied breathlessly. “Fuckin’ perfect …”

The only downside was that you couldn’t see him, and you loved looking at him, his face, watching as every emotion he felt, everything he thought passed over his features. At least with you. You looked back over your shoulder to find him stroking himself, and you let out a low moan, wriggling against the wall in anticipation. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he looked up and regarded you for a moment before reaching for the hem of your dress and pushing it up over your hips, just as he said that he wanted to.

“God, look at you,” Jake rumbled.

You let out a soft noise that died on your lips when he drew his hand back and cracked it hard against your exposed ass. “Oh!” you cried, forehead dropping against the wall. “Holy shit …”

“Okay?” he asked with some trepidation.

You appreciated him asking, but it took you a few moments to find the words. “Yes,” you finally replied. “I’ll - you can do whatever you want to me. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

Those had apparently been the magic words, because you heard him groan, heard the slick sound of his hand moving over his cock before he smacked your ass hard again. He hit you with such force that you felt your entire body jostle from it, could feel the ache that lingered between your legs permeating through your entire core. You pushed away from the wall, pushed back against him, cock moving between your cheeks.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, hips jerking forward, his hands settling on your hips. “Baby girl -”

“Jake, please,” you whined, wriggling against him. “Don’t - don’t make me wait.”

That was apparently the last thing that he wanted to do. One of his hands relinquished its hold on you, reaching between them to grab at the base of his cock. He shifted it so that it was nestled between your thighs, letting out a shuddering breath as it dragged against your clit, your lips.

“Fuck me,” you gasped desperately, reaching behind yourself and curling an arm around his neck, drawing them closer. His mouth immediately sought out your throat, and he nudged the collar of your jean jacket to the side with his fingers. “Hangman, give me your cock.”

You’d never called him by his callsign before, and he let out the most pathetic, devastatingly sexy sound you’d ever heard.

He didn’t make you wait any longer, pressing his fingers along his length and guiding it into your wet and waiting cunt. You both gasped, relieved, and seemingly melted against one another as he began to press inside. Jake’s hands sought your breasts, squeezing them gently through the fabric of your dress, your bra, a low moan echoing off the walls of the art gallery as he sunk deeper inside of you.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he moaned as you pressed back against him. “Baby girl … oh my god.”

You, in that moment, felt so incredibly powerful. You felt used, like a plaything for little more than his pleasure. But the way that he filled you, worshipped your body with every touch, every kiss, every shift of his hips let you know the truth - you were cherished, you were ultimately the one in control. You could bend him to your every whim, and he would go willingly.

You whined and gasped as he filled you, and when his hips met your ass and he couldn’t move any deeper inside of you, you made a small, frustrated sound. You would’ve gladly taken more of him if there were more to take - and he certainly wasn’t lacking.

Swaying your hips, you tipped your head back against his shoulder, your own hands settling over his, encouraging him to grab your breasts harder. “Hangman,” you murmured breathlessly. “Fuck me. Split me open, love.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he moaned, peppering your face and throat with desperate, messy kisses.

“Why would I do that?” you asked with a breathless smile, turning your head slightly so that you could get one of those kisses on your lips.

After taking a moment to get accustomed to the feeling of being inside you, of finding the position that made you cry out the most, Jake began to move. Slowly at first, but then in earnest, his hands coming to settle on your hips once more. He guided you along him as he moved, his hips snapping forward and meeting your ass again and again, the deliciously improper smacking sound filling the gallery.

Christ, how you wanted to see him.

“Jake,” you whimpered as he fucked you with abandon. “Love, I can’t - let me - I want to see you.”

He seemed only too happy to oblige, and though he reluctantly pulled out of you (you both let out mournful sounds), he quickly rectified it by manhandling you until you were facing him. Your eyes wide and startled, you barely had a moment to react, to adjust, before he was swooping in and kissing you, pushing you back against the wall. You lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip, and he groaned something against your mouth about you being so flexible, and you smiled. You ground your hips against him, and he bucked against you, growling as his tongue delved into your mouth.

“Put it - put it back in,” you whimpered, arching against him, draping your arms over his shoulders. The angle was still all wrong, and for the first time in a very long while you hated how short you were compared to him. “Jake,” you whined, frustrated, head thumping back against the wall.

You had no idea what had gotten into you that night, but you felt all manner of things all at once. You could scarcely remember a time when you had wanted anyone but Jake, despite the fact that he’d only come into your life a few weeks previous. Your heart ached from how strongly that you felt for him, and from the inevitable end of your relationship. You were so overjoyed, while simultaneously being absolutely gutted.

“Sweetheart,” Jake murmured, pressing his mouth along the curve of your jaw. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

One of his hands moved under the thigh of the leg you had up over his hip, while the other traced idle patterns on your other leg. You whimpered quietly, looking into his green eyes as he searched your face for a moment. You didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was you wanted to give it to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, as if he’d never said it to you before. He had, that night of your first date, but your heart felt full from hearing it again.

“So are you,” you responded in kind, and Jake smiled and bit at his lip.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he murmured. “A little tighter than you already are.” You did as instructed, looking at him quizzically. “Hold on.”

You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was doing. He hooked his arm under the back of your knee against his hip, and then crouched down, doing the same with the other leg, hoisting you up off the floor. You let out a startled noise and held onto him tighter, your hand fisted the collar of his shirt in your hand.

“Jake,” you gasped.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing his face against your throat for a moment.

Jake pushed you back up against the wall, using that as leverage to hoist you a little higher. You untangled one of your arms from being wrapped around him and reached down between the two of you, grabbing his cock and guiding the tip inside of yourself. Gravity took care of the rest.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, eyebrows furrowing as you looked down to watch Jake’s cock slipping inside. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

At that point, Jake seemed to be beyond even four letter, single syllable words, and simply pressed his mouth against your throat, alternating between breathing harshly and moaning, delicious sounds coming from that you hadn’t been aware he was capable of making.

You wriggled, attempting to move yourself up and down along Jake’s cock, using his shoulders as leverage. You were able to move slightly, but mostly it was left up to gravity, and Jake’s arms lifting you. He was so strong, but you were sure that he couldn’t keep that up for long. Thankfully, the angle was fucking perfect and he wouldn’t have to.

“Jake,” you gasped, tangling one hand in his hair and tugging. He moved shallowly, the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit. You wouldn’t last. “Jake!”

He gasped your name in turn, tongue darting out to taste your skin, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. “I’m - I’m coming. Come with me. Sweetheart, please -”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, his pleas and the way he stretched you open, hit all of the sweetest spots inside you ensuring that you came tumbling along with him. Jake was inelegant as he came - grunting and gasping and twitching against you, and it only spurred your own orgasm on further, your entire body trembling with the force of it. It rocked you to your core so hard that when you closed your eyes for a moment you saw the brightest of stars.

Gingerly, you attempted to lower your legs, but your feet still didn’t touch the floor. You could feel his entire body quaking against you, and he crouched slightly to pull his cock out of you, ease you onto the floor, still breathing hard, still making soft sounds against your skin. He seemed reluctant to pull away from the warmth of your throat.

“Fuck,” you gasped, tipping your head back against the wall, your fingers gently scratching at his scalp. “Jake …”

You had said little else for several minutes. They seemed to be the best two words, at least for the moment. They were good words. They were undoubtedly your favourites.

Jake leaned his forehead against yours, and you traded ragged breaths as you attempted to regain any semblance of composure. You didn’t know how the rest of the evening was likely to shake out, but you hoped that it didn’t include being upright for any length of time, as you felt you were barely capable then of standing without assistance.

He pulled away from you, and you were about to tighten your grip on his hair, not wanting him to go anywhere, but he began to slowly sink to his knees. There was a question that died on your lips as he lifted the hem of your dress, which you took a hold of in your hands and hiked up over your thighs as you watched him. Hands settling on your thighs, Jake leaned in and licked the sensitive bundle of nerves at your center. You cried out, relinquishing your hold on your dress with at least one hand, which you tangled into his soft, mused hair once more.

Without a word, he tilted his head to the side and began to lick into you and it was through a haze that you realized that he was licking his own come out of you.

You may have come again from the sheer knowledge of that alone.

“Oh,” you gasped, watching him intently. “Oh god. Fuckin’ ... Jake.”

He moaned against you like it was the sweetest thing that he’d ever tasted, his own release mixed with yours. And you didn't doubt for a moment that he thought just that. Jake ate your pussy like it was a goddamn honour.

“You … holy fuck,” you purred, fingers carding gently through his hair.

You spread your legs a little wider, Jake’s tongue probing your cunt, as if he didn’t want to lose a single drop. He was positively filthy, and looked so incredibly debauched on his knees in front of you, neck craned, brow furrowed in concentration. He opened his eyes to look up at you, and you shuddered under the heat and intensity of his gaze. When Jake deemed you sufficiently clean, he drew back, licking at his lips and smoothing a hand over his face, his eyes still locked with yours.

“I …” You found that you couldn’t speak, and instead let go of your dress, letting it tumble over your thighs. Your now free hand joined the other in Jake’s hair, the both of them sweeping down over his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “Wow.”

Jake chuckled, turning his head and pressing a kiss to one of your palms. “Yes, darlin’. Wow.”

/end.

#hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #reader x jake seresin #hangman #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #reader insert #writing #fic #antiquitea.fic #august slipped away

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honourablejester · 11 months

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Spelljammer Campaign Concept

Since I’m space-ttrpg brained at the minute. One thing specific to spelljammer’s Astral Sea setting that I really wish they’d added more to is the idea that it’s full of dead gods. And live ones, yes, but it’s the gargantuan celestial corpses that I’m interested in. (Which sounds weird when I say it like that, but anyway). There’s a canonical city, the githyanki city of Tu’narath, built on one of these corpses, and apparently in older lore Red Wizards of Thay pulled an artefact that beat like a heart out of it. There’s an idea that some aspect of divinity or even life still resides in some of these vast remains, some spark of godhood that provides power and even some animation to a thing long dead. In whatever sense gods can die.

And. Look. That is a hell of a concept to just throw out there and dismiss in a single sentence and small sidebar in your new setting book. I’m mad about it. Anyway.

The Astral Sea is littered with the corpses of dead gods, strange and forgotten deities from thousands of worlds. Strange beings that have become strange places, islands in a silver vastness, sometimes still pulsing with the echoes of divine life and perhaps divine natures. Places big enough to build cities on. Or dungeons in. Big enough to explore. Searching for what?

So. Picture this campaign. A mysterious backer is approaching the crews of adventurous spelljammer vessels, sponsoring expeditions to strange places in the Astral Sea. Terrifying places in the Astral Sea. The remnants of what were once gods, and now are bizarre islands full of strange magic and the echoes of old divine domains. This backer is searching for something specific from these sites, these corpses, and, on top of actual payment, is willing to allow crews to keep anything else they find on these expeditions for themselves, provided they bring everything they find back and allow the backer to examine them and choose a single item for themselves. Upon receipt of this item, they will pay the crew what they owe, and allow them to keep the rest.

This is because it’s not an item they’re searching for, as such. It’s a shard. A shard of lost divinity. A fragment of celestial life, still throbbing at the hearts of vast corpses. The form it takes will be different every time. The form of the deity will be different every time, and so the seat of their last remaining fragment of divinity will be different also. It might look, and feel, like anything. But the backer will know it when they see it. And they’ll pay for it.

They’re not going to say this, of course. They’re not going to tell anyone what they’re looking for. But they’re sending crews out. Maybe they’ve been sending crews out for a while. No one ages in the Astral Sea, so maybe they’ve been on this quest for time without meaning. One shard isn’t enough. Not for their purposes. Many of them are so small and so faded, bare motes of potential after aeons of death. They don’t want a single fragment of divinity, this person, they need enough to make a whole one. A whole divinity. Necromancy of the rudest sort, a frankensteined apotheosis. If you eat the fractured souls of enough dead gods, sooner or later, won’t you become one yourself?

I’m picturing an eldritch lich, personally. One that’s been listening to whispers from the Far Realm for far too long. A puppetmaster being puppeted themselves, maybe. What forces in creation have an interest in the ascension of a frankensteined god? What would the results be of a god made of pieces, torn fragments, of so many lost and disparate and unwilling dead deities? Any and all deities. Good, evil, alien, of any and all domains, scavenged and consumed into a single, roiling whole. What sort of divinity would result from so traumatic a process? And what would that divinity then do?

But all that’s in the future. An endgame perhaps aeons or only a few remaining shards down the line. For the moment, what’s being asked is this:

Travel the Astral Sea. Find the body of a god. Venture into its depths. Bring me everything you find.

Now. I’m going to take objection to the description of the dead gods provided in Astral Adventurer’s Guide, and offer a different direction:

“The Astral Sea is also where one can find the petrified remains of gods who were slain by more powerful entities or who lost all their mortal worshipers and perished as a result. A dead god looks like a gigantic, nondescript stone statue that bears little resemblance to the divine entity it once was. Githyanki, mind flayers, psurlons, and other natives of the Astral Plane sometimes turn these drifting hulks into outposts and cities, many of which are hollowed out beneath the surface.”

A giant nondescript statue that looks nothing like the deity once did. No. Boring. Even Tu’narath still has six arms, so there’s some resemblance happening there. And besides. It’s just cooler, more fun, more interesting, if the dead gods do resemble what they once were. If they are influenced by what domains they once held. Because then … the universe is your oyster.

They’re all different. All these island corpses. These slain gods. This is the Astral Sea. These are the deities of a thousand worlds and a thousand species and a thousand forgotten realms. They might look like anything. Shaped by the echoes of the god’s nature and its domains and its species. The dead sea god that looks like a vast alien whale, whose gut is filled with strange waters and strange creatures, and into whose belly the party must venture. A forgotten deity of knowledge whose vast skull now contains a calcified, crystalline ‘library’ with aeons of knowledge written in light onto spun fibres of crystal. A deity of madness, darkness and despair whose corpse is a labyrinthine maze of passages that leech will and soul the further you venture into them, a lingering undead malice that doesn’t want you dead so much as maddened and undone. And your sponsor won’t care, so long as at least one of you makes it back, that shard of dark power clutched in your trembling fist.

Some of the bodies might still be guarded. Some of them might be inhabited, with cities and realms nested into their bones and calcified flesh. Some might be considerably more ‘alive’ than others. Some might be just stranger than others, deities so lost and far-flung and alien that nothing about even their inert remains makes sense. You have … an infinity of options here. Let your inner dungeon designer completely off the chain. These are the corpses of dead gods made physical, floating in an infinite silver sea of possibilities. There are no rules, not even physics. You could do literally anything you wanted here.

It'd make sense if the backer was sending crews to less well-known, and therefore perhaps stranger and more dangerous, corpses, just to be sure that no one had taken or destroyed what they’re looking for already. The more alive ones, more likely to still contain lingering power and divinity. So you have an excellent excuse to get weird up in here.

Basically, if you want a vast, eldritch, apocalyptic dungeon crawl, or series of dungeon crawls, in space, then the Astral Sea is very much the perfect setting. Although, yes, this is likely a high level campaign, unless you want to guide the party in with more accessible godly dungeons first. Even then it’s probably on the high side.

There’s also the shards themselves to consider. They’ll likely be potent magic items. You’re holding a piece of a god’s divinity in your hand. With powers probably themed to what the god would have been in life. Although they don’t necessarily need to be powerful. The divinity might be faded enough, shattered and torn by death, that it doesn’t do much externally anymore. Its power is intrinsic to what it is, not what it does. And maybe that makes more sense for how crews are willing to give them up afterwards, if they’re only mildly impressive amidst other loot.

Though that could be a thing. If it’s a magic item that you know for a fact your party will want to keep, and then that could bring them into conflict with their ‘backer’ before they ever maybe twig to the greater issue going on.

And there is a question of how and if they do twig to that. How would they find out the goals here. Are there other interested parties who’ve figured out what our backer is trying for? Or simply parties who are aware that they have been desecrating dead gods and who object on purely moral and philosophical grounds? How has society in the Astral Sea evolved around the fact that there are dead gods just drifting around?

How do living gods, deities with living dominions in the Sea, deal with the idea that there is a creature going around looting the corpses of their deceased forebearers? Grave-robbing in the Astral Sea can potentially be a couple of orders of magnitude more apocalyptic than the terrestrial equivalent normally manages, and I do love that.

(Or maybe it’s not apocalyptic. Maybe there’s nothing left in the dead gods that could actually make a new one, no matter how many you eat, and those few deities who are aware of our backer’s quest, deities of knowledge, perhaps, just look at them with pity for this obsession, delusion, of theirs. They don’t want them stopped because of the danger, but just because of the disrespect, the desecration. That, and the fact that eating bits of dead gods, while it might not make you a god yourself, still won’t do anything good to you, and perhaps there is a certain amount of not goodness happening that does need to be dealt with. Dealer’s choice.

Or perhaps the gods think that, and they’re wrong, and now you have to convince incredible all-powerful entities that there is a genuine threat there, whether they believe it or not)

I just. You can’t just put that out there, that this setting you’re casually sailing around is full of dead gods, and not … do something with it. Expand on it. Play with the implications of it. The Astral Sea is a vast, infinite celestial graveyard, and the remains of dead gods are locations you can interact with. That is a concept, and you can have a bit more fun with it than ‘nondescript statue asteroids that people can build on’ over here. Lingering echoes of what those deities once were, fragments of divinity, the sheer magical and theological potential of being able to grave-rob a dead god. Come on. You have divine corpses, in a setting where necromancy exists. Somebody’s gonna do something apocalyptic with the implications of that, you just know they are.

And in the process, you can get some really cool and weird dungeons to explore. Heh.

Spelljammer has such potential as a setting. The Astral Sea allows so many possibilities. How do you open with ‘you are sailing through a setting where you can make port at a god’s house or at a rock that is a dead god’ and just … park that there and leave it? Good god. Good gods. And bad ones, and weird ones, and completely inexplicable ones too.

I’m not sure Wizards quite understood how much they jumped the scale by bringing spelljammer back and putting it in the Astral Sea. So many settings have archmages and other people spend so many resources to try and reach the realms of gods, and in spelljammer you and your dinky ship can just sail up and knock on their door. Maybe not get in, but you can totally just heave up to any deity who has a Dominion in the Sea and at least knock. You can put your smuggler’s cache in a dead god’s skull. The deities are now, in this setting, significantly more interactable. If you want to try and necromancy a god’s corpse, that is a thing you can attempt.

Which is probably why they tried to tone it down with the whole ‘nondescript statues’ thing, that dead gods in the Sea are just rocks that people build on/in, but … Honestly? It’s still a dead god. You can’t undo the raw scale of that. And maybe you shouldn’t, either.

Nah. Play into the bonkers scale and setting implications of a potentially infinite number of god corpses just littered around the place, with the astral floating kingdoms and vacation homes of living gods keeping them company, and you in your dinky little boat sailing cheerfully out among them. Because that’s amazing, it really is.

Anyway. Have fun. Moving swiftly on.

#d&d #d&d 5e #spelljammer #why am i so salty about spelljammer?#it's SUCH a cool setting #you could do so much with it #anyway #campaign ideas #deities #necromancy #dungeon crawler

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trashlama · 1 year

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RISE!LEO X READER!

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This is basically a part 2 to →this←

I appreciate all the feedback for the first part! It really made my day, thank you!

NO MINORS/ONLY 18+!!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer the two memes in here are not mine. They just too good.

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Sensei wasn't kidding when he told tales about the New York City of old with it's diverse beauty hidden in the city's twinkling glow.

To think for the first fifteen years of his life that he lived in the ruins of this classic marvel. Unaware of it's majesty compared to the doomed world he was born into.

After shutting down the Krrangs' invasion coup, rescuing Raph from the slimy pink clutches of exterrestrial mind control, and Leo recovering from his near death experience. Things as the turtles liked to put it— "went back to normal as normal as The Big Apple could be".

Whatever that ment.

In these times of peace the ex-resistance soilder found solace in his menial lifestyle with the Hamatos when compared to the one in his previous timeline.

Not fighting for his life everyday was a definite plus for the raven-haired veteran.

No longer was his mind be plagued by the knowledge of pending Krrang assaults and inevitable carnage. Despite General Donatello's best efforts to fortify the Resistance base. Sirens that fore told destruction sounding off into the darkness still plagued the teenager's restless nights.

No more incidents and mission failures that resulted in multiple funerals in a given week. Trying to hold back saltwater spills as General Michelangelo added another drawn portrait to the wall of the fallen. Rows of those whose fates were cut short.

Gone are the daily intelligence meetings directed by the chief intelligence officer General O'Neil. Speeches typically held ending on a negative note despite her optimistic quips about pushing the pink tentacle freaks back and gaining the upper hand against these pests.

They tried. That's what mattered.

However Casey couldn't deny the jovial excitement of being in this time period.

Taking his Sensei's advice the young veteran had got to try the infamous Pizza. Rats were definitely a far cry from the greasy-delectable-gooyneess that is the New York stable and apparently could be found on almost any corner in Manhattan.

Crisp nights were spent hanging with the Mad Dog Crew. Video games, Lou Jitsu films, and bizarre mutant encounters kept things interesting. Something new always happening when he hung with the turtles.

It was strange being able to see his mentors in their youth, the crew not being too much older than himself. Their own personalities like his own were still developing, evolving into the people they'll become tomorrow.

Although some things never do change.

Especially when it came to his teacher.

°°°°

It wasn't anything new when Leo said he was gonna go out for a while.

Raph— being the protective older brother of course questioned his blue bandana wearing sibling of his destination. Even though at this point it was a cycle of deflection with the red eared slider. Raph still tried.

With his normal nonchalant attitude Leo dismissed his older sibling's worries.

"Take a chill pill Raph! I'm just going for a midnight stroll— ya' know? Nothing to get yer panties in a twist~" the adult mutant turtle shrugged off, teasing his brother as he made for the door.

" Tch! Im'a just tryin'a look out for ya' Leo! No one knows where ya' keep goin' and Im'a tryin'a respect yer space and all but, were worried for you!" The alligator snapping turtle expressed flustered by his brother's reluctance to be open.

Casey wanted to butt-in but, he didn't want to cross any unnecessary lines.

He might know the future turtles of his time but, he didn't want to push too many personal boundaries with these versions of his family.

The two stared one another down for a brief moment before the younger olive-green turtle retreated for the exit once more.

For a second, onyx colored irises looked Raph's direction as if contiplating something only to swiftly shift back towards the door way.

"It's fine Raph. I'm just patrolling and then coming back, stop the worrin' Bro." Leo reassured. His smile didn't match what his pools of ink told.

The door like the conquering thunder in springtime, boomed when it slammed closed.

For a moment the foliage colored turtle towered in the entry way.

Casey could tell from the ninja's look that Raph wanted to chase after Leo. Find out for himself what his brother sought to keep secret from the rest of the Hamatos.

Only for the tired adult snapping turtle to turn and retreat into the confines of his chambers.

An awkward pregnate silence took over the room shortly after.

Donnie left first, muttering something about a project he needed to work on.

Only for Mikey to follow offering Casey Jr. to join the youngest turtle for games if he wanted.

Acknowledging the offer, Casey remained rooted to the couch in the main room. Lost in his own thoughts swaying between future and present time.

Memories of his past, the future that will never come to fruition. Flooded into his brain.

Casey knew where Leo was going.

More specifically who the red eared slider was going to see.

(Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n).

In his time (Y/n) was a woman from Master Leonardo's past that he couldn't leave alone.

The Resistance leader lurked in the shadows of his desire, regardless if the (h/c) haired female was aware or not. Monopolizing you for his own selfish attachments. Held by a leash the blue bandana wearing turtle held short.

You were the Commander's.

Everyone in the Resistance knew—

And no one stopped it.

And those who did attempt to do so faced dire consequences. Usually ending up on a suicide run into Krrang territory.

Those who made it back rarely made the same mistake on aiding you twice. And if they did, they definitely wouldn't again.

Leo made sure of that.

Even the slider's brothers and close friend chose to ignored the obvious.

Many times Casey had tried to convince them. Pulling at his greasy raven strands in frustration at their lack of interest.

Not once did any of them step in. Never lifted a finger or spoke against their leader's wishes.

General O'Neil was too engrossed in her work to listen to Casey's "childish" worries. When bigger threats prowled the broken streets. The woman had other far more pressing matters to be consumed by.

General Donatello wouldn't even listen to the adolescent. Choosing to continue hovering over his abyss of data. Not even sparing the boy-soilder a glance. Orbs of night never straying from the ever-changing code that flew across bright illuminated screens.

Out of all them, General Michaelangelo's response was the most disturbing. The youngest of the generals sympathized with his elder brother. Actively choosing to look past your despair for the greater good of Leo's psyche and the Resistance.

For everyone—

But you.

Deep down Casey Jr. always felt like the box turtle knew what would happen if the red eared slider lost you. The elder having a knack for sensing people's emotions.

For the first three years you fought tooth and nail. Planned and replanned so many jailbreaks. Awaited your chance to disappear from Leo's grasp.

However nothing was successful. Always in the end being dragged back by the sewer's apex predator.

Casey assisted where he could with what limited resources he had at his disposal. Signing up for missions with you so that you guys may coordinate without the looming olive phantom haunting the shadows.

He tried to help you and you did too.

But he was just a kid and you were just the prey bidding it's time in the tall grass. You both were stuck in this hellish world in this false place of sanctuary.

At times without anyone asking, you'd play out the roles he needed in his life. Fluctuating between a big sister to a motherly figure depending on what you thought he needed.

Many times Casey was grateful for the support.

He felt for (y/n). That's why he did the best he could. He just wanted you to be happy.

Alas it wasn't meant to be.

By the fourth year under Leo's supervision you were defeated. Resigned to the shelled hunter who just won't leave you be.

Casey tried to spur you on. Reignite the flame that burned in your chest.

But you just couldn't do it.

Successfully the domineering leader had smothered your fire in his embrace. The coals of your soul being treated by snakes of possession that slithered into your ribs and whispers of adoration that rewrote the manuscript of your mind.

It was easier to give in than to keep hurting.

Casey couldn't watch that happen again.

He wouldn't.

The raven haired teenager already messed up the spacetime continuum with his presence.

What's a little more damage control gonna hurt?

Mind set in stone, he flipped down his hockey mask.

The faint squeak of the lair door did not go unnoticed by the other inhabiting residents as Casey disappeared into the night.

°°°°°°°°

It was a close call but, thankfully he did not miss your performance.

It twas another quite late weekday night at the aging basketball court. Squeaking shoes alongside the whoosh of the webbed hoop were the best back up singers to the beat of your ball and the panting breaths that escaped your soft looking lips. His favorite song to go with his favorite basketball ballerina.

The air was warm despite the recent onslaughts of cold fronts recently. Not that the weather would deter you from your nightly routine. Sweat ran down the curve of your (skin tone) face. (E/c) eyes trained on the basket as you alternated between point lines.

Leo sigh, the fondness for the girl below evident in his love-struck gaze. Lips posed in a goofy manner, the turtle unable to withhold the emotions flooding his system from taking control of his facial muscles.

He loved watching you play. Everytime. Since the first time he caught a glimpse of your skilled layout.

The way you maneuvered while laying up your shot was something to behold. The graceful beauty in your moves complimented the NBA performance that you gave every single time you shot the ball.

Coordinated and enchanting

It was such a perfect combination.

The hearts in his gaze followed you across the court. Dancing a Devine ballet under the fluorescent glow of the fenced in stage with leaps that would make Micheal Jordan jealous.

So enthralled in the mystical sight before him, the red eared slider almost didn't pick up on the approaching foot steps that was heading towards his direction.

Within a microsecond the mutant ninja turtle withdrew his dual swords, the clang of the steel weapons hitting the metal of Casey Jr's gauntlet woke Leo of his trained focus.

" Casey Jr? What'cha doin' here? " The dumb founded look was not missed by the teen in question . Surprise extched across the young version of his Sensei's face.

He's been caught.

"I could ask the same thing about you ." Casey retorted. Shaking the turtle's blades off his gauntlet like the leafs in autumn trees.

Teddy bear brown eyes slide down to the figure in the court. Gaze softening slightly at the sight of the new but, familiar (h/c) haired woman.

" What are you doing Leo? "

The olive-green turtle was not pleased. A thin frown sucked in his bottom lip. Young inky orbs gazed at Casey Jr. Informing the other of the dangerous game that the teenage veteran was playing.

Trying his preferred recent method of escape, the adult slider deflected.

" Pfffh! None-ya business! " The ninja scolded.

" I'm an adult and I can do things on my own. It's me who should be asking ya', what you're doin' here? " Leo pressed, turning the tables to chastise the raven haired teen instead.

Casey wasn't impressed. So far during his time here it was nothing new when it came to the younger version of his master.

Taking the silence as his immediate answer, the blue bandana wearing turtle began to continue telling off the apocalyptic born teenager.

" Got nothin' to say? Great! Why don'tch'a run back to the lair like a good little boy and—"

" I know why you're here Leo and who for. "

Casey's interjection immediately shut up the blabbering olive-green turtle. His comment gaining the young mutant's undivided attention.

"What do you mean Casey?"

"Yeah whatcha' mean Casey?"

Leo swore he was going to throw himself right off this ledge.

From the shadows, the owner of the gruff voice emerged with two figures that backed up his lumbering stature.

There stood a definitely not happy Raph. Arms crossed his chipped plastron in obvious display of his displeasure with the scene. Brows furrowed at the two in front of him. Carrying the aura of a displeased mother ready to whip out the chancla.

Behind the alligator snapping turtle's left was a Donatello who was obviously here to capture Raph beating Leo's ass. Cause what else are brothers for?

Then to the irked elder brother's right was Mikey. Trying to get a comprehension of the situation the trio just walked into. Not wanting the end result to be just straight up violence without trying to resolve with talking first.

Casey did not expect this.

Before future boy even got the chance to speak, Leo rushed to answer the question. A dark blush erupting across his olive cheeks dusting them in a pinkish hue.

"It's nothing! Absolutely nothing! I think I am ready to head back now— " Leo rabbled trying to push the his brothers away from the scene just down below.

"Whatcha' hiding Leo?!" Raph roared. Pushing past his brother to walk towards the edge. Only to get the answer to his question.

Just not in the way he thought.

"Hello? Is someone up there?"

The blue bandana wearing turtle really hated his luck tonight.

For a solid few minutes no one moved or made a sound.

Leo would have to throttle them if they did.

It wasn't until the beating of your ball returned to fill the empty void is when the gang took it as the coast was clear.

Sighs of relief left all five of them as they took a moment to reassess the situation.

Not even a second later the three other color coded turtle brothers threw themselves at the ledge to see who had called to them.

Down below, a cute (h/c) haired girl dribbling a basketball across the faded court. Laying out shots and moves that would school them in less than five seconds.

Mischievous knowing grins stretched across the three brothers green complexions as they turned to look back at their brother.

" Don't you do it." Leo warned. Onyx eyes glaring at his brothers who were ready to explode from the sight.

And of course it was Michaelangelo who did first.

" Leeeooooo hass aaaaww cruuuussshhh!" Mikey squealed. Warm grey eyes brightening at the reveal. Shuffling closer to his brother with a dorky face.

"It all makes sense now why ya' didn't want anyone ta' know!" Raph laughed. His scowl quickly replaced with a shit-eating grin.

"Oh Leon, don't you know that we would've found out eventually?" Donnie mused. Making sure to use one of his pairs of robotic arms to get a pic of his blue bandana wearing brother's flustered expression.

They were all laughing. Well except Leo and Casey Jr.

"Okay, okay! Can you guys please leave now!" The adult slider begged, using his force to push his brothers further away from the court below where his ballerina was.

The ex-resistance soldier was at a loss for words. One moment the threat of a showdown with his master's younger self. The next, was a dog pile of fluff that could rival the amount of cavities you'd get from eating a whole store of nothing but candy.

"Come on Casey Jr! Let's leave Leon to gawk at his cwwrruusshh!~" Mikey gushed. Throwing a moss green arm around the younger raven-haired boy's shoulder.

Casey shrugged off the youngest brother's arm. Before replying with a grin of his own. "Okay Mikey, I'll catch up with you guys in a few."

Giving the doomsday boy the thumbs up the other three turtles siblings ran off ahead. Making sure to continue teasing their blue bandana brother with kissy noises as they departed.

They were assholes. But Leo loved them.

" So, what's up future-boy?" the red eared slider quipped. Raising an unamused brow to the fifteen year old ex-soldier.

"(Y/n). Stay away from her." Casey warned.

Anger burned within those inky abyss of the mutant's glare sparked by the teenager's response. His grip on his fore arm tightened and his lip grew tight with displeasure.

"Yeeeaaahhh— no. I don't think I will" Leo responded. Eyes sharp like the sheathed blades the turtle carried. The hockey masked teen returned the same look.

"You see sénõr— I'm in love with the sénõritá of my dreams" the blue bandana ninja stated. "It's a fact that the hero always gets the girl." He continued. "Every Lou Jitsu movie proves so and I the awesome handsome hero will win the heart of the girl. And —"

"How when you never talk to her?" Casey asked simply.

Onyx irises widen slightly. " Whatcha' mean? I might've not worked up the mojo yet but—"

"Leo, in my timeline you never spoke to (Y/n). Not until after the Krrang invasion." The veteran spoke. A shadow forecast his gaze the mask helping to aid in hiding his expression.

" You became leader of the Resistance and worked hard for many years. Too hard. I guess it hurt you so much that when you saw her again you couldn't risk losing her. Not again. "

" You didn't hurt her physically but, mentally. She wasn't the girl that is down in that court right now. " Casey admitted. His pitch voiced the despair he could still remember clearly in your (e/c) eyes.

Leonardo listened carefully. His expression serious versus his iconic clownish behavior.

The look reminded Casey of his Sensei. The years washed over the young ninja in a matter of seconds revealed by the receding tide.

"What I am saying is I'm watching you." The teenager sighed looking too old to be fifteen and too young to have served in a war.

Don't make me regret not doing anything now" Warned the boy-soilder. " I will tell your brothers of your problems if you don't fix them now."

A solemn look haunted the turtle's expression.

" Just treat her right " the raven hair veteran chirped. Gifting the adult red eared slider a reassuring grin and a pat to his shell.

" I will. " Leo confirmed.

"That's the spirit. Look I better scram I sure Mikey is won—"

Speaking of the box turtle, the cell in the future boy's pocket suddenly went off. The phone screen brighting up with the name of the person trying to contact him. Tiny speakers blaring the Lou Jitsu game theme song.

"Welp that's gotta be Mikey." Casey chuckled, swiping the phone out his pocket only to pause. Thumb hovering over the answer button.

" Just... remember I will protect her from you if I have too. " Casey reiterated. The neon green dots of his mask making his point clear even if his words didn't.

" Aye, aye Captain~" Leo confirmed giving the ex-resistance soldier a faux solute.

With a shake of his head the teen lifted his gauntlet to the neighboring structure. "See you later Leon"

"Right back at you Spiderman"

"Who?"

"Oh God no. Ask Donnie he can help you."

"O-kaaay.... see you."

"Adios amigo!"

With click spur of gears a burst of steam sent the graveling hook and Casey Jr flying through the illuminated metropolis back towards the lair. Regrouping with the rest of the Hamato clan.

Now that the mutant looney tunes was over, the blue bandana turtle could go back to enjoy his muse.

With an eager anticipation in his bones the turtle turned back to the aged court only to find that you were wrapping up for the night. Your usual (2f/c) towel in hand as you shrug on your (f/c) sports jacket. The sweat from your workout must've been turning cold.

Leonardo knows that he made a deal with Casey Jr but, it was hard not to follow the basketball ballerina home.

He'll just make sure she gets there safe.

Don't want another mutant rooster coming for the (e/c) eyed woman.

Next thing Leo knew he was back in his favorite camping spot, perched in the fire escape as he watched you unwind while watching your Lou Jitsu movies. Slurping down the top ramen that you ate religiously.

And like clock work you were out.

The blue color coded turtle knew he shouldn't.

Especially because of his deal with Casey Jr but, for Gram-Gram sake! This was his chance.

The night was young enough that the morning dawn wouldn't rise for a while. He had some wiggle room with this.

The quiet chatter from the television masked the faint creaky slide of the dingy window being opened.

The mutant turtle slithered into the sparse apartment. Finding the lack of personality to the place.

Was she possibly like April and spent all her money on school?

Upon inspection darks orbs found stacks of college books on the counter. Spines of the bemoths had topics about physics, engineering and mechanics.

She'd probably have a blast chatting with Donnie about his nerd stuff.

Somehow the thought turned the olive-green turtles gut but, didn't read too much into it.

Standing in the small space, Leo found himself already looming over most of your sparse belongings. Finding himself snickering or chuckling as he walked around the studio.

What you did have besides your surplus of top ramen bursting out of your little pantry in the area he assumed was supposed to be a little dollar-store kitchenette you assembled.

Stacked to the side of the crooked entertainment center in half-assed stack was an assortment of retro game cartridges, similar to the one Mikey retrieved from that merchant he went to for his Lou Jitsu game.

On the coffee table second-hand Jupiter Jim comics were splayed out amongst other papers. He assumes homework based on the frustrated mathematical problems written, scratched out, revised and rewritten again.

He hadn't meant to but, his wandering gaze made itself back to you. Somehow it always does. May the red eared slider be be awake or in his dreams.

He always found his way back.

Even when he doesn't mean to.

Subconsciously Leo apologized to Casey Jr for his dishonorable actions and how he was about to further break his promise.

Gulping down the saliva that pooled in his mouth. His left hand carefully caressed your soft (skin tone) skin a little grimy leftover from your show but, still just as lovely as the lashes that hid tired (e/c) orbs from his direct sight.

His thumb traced your cheek down the slope of your jaw before skimming back towards the soft plump object his dark gaze kept getting drawn back too.

He really couldn't help himself.

He was disgusting but, he couldn't deny the monkey that rattled in the ribs that caged it.

He really does love you.

Leaning forward the turtle pressed his lips on his thumbs target. Successfully devouring your mouth. His three digit hand came to hold your chin keeping your face in place so he may taste more.

Pulling away the grown mutant was basically a glowing red light bulb with how hot his face was.

He did it. He got his kiss but, the animal part of his brain wouldn't calm down.

It wouldn't accept just this one stolen kiss.

He had to have you. You were a drug like no other. Better than any endorphins he ever received from beating his brothers at their various competitions to having the last glorious slice of the pepperoni pie.

This was sooo much better.

Sorry Casey Jr but, I just can't stay away from her...

For a moment Leo really thought he could walk away.

Just admire from a distance.

Look, don't touch.

Allow (Y/n) to just live her life like the woman she was becoming. Just be happy for her.

But Leo was selfish. He knows this.

That's why he's gonna have to meet her. Somehow, someway. He needed to be closer.

These nighttime ballets can only sustain the zoo in his chest for so long.

With a sigh of content the adult slider petted the side of your sleeping face. Looming over you the turtle knew he couldn't leave until he stole one more sinful taste. Cradling the back of your head, threading strands of (h/c) with his large free hand.

He just needed it to last as long as possible. Just until next time.

Reluctantly the turtle left. Disappearing like the whisps of the departed without a sound.

The window sealed shut behind the vanishing olive ghost.

°°°°°°

Upon arriving back at the lair Leo found there wasn't a soul left in the main room as he crept through the sleeping base and into his bedroom.

The red eared turtle was about to retire to the land of dreams when he received a light knock on his door. A moment of silence before an adolescent voice broke through the thin barrier

"Leo? May I come in?"

Shit. It was Casey Jr.

"Sure bud. Me casa tu casa~" the tired ninja yawned. Dark eyes examining the teen who entered, shutting the door behind him as he passed through.

"What's up Casey 2.0?" The mutant inquired. Raised frow to join in his questioning look.

Leo knew why he was here.

The ex-resistance soldier sighed. No longer hidden behind his hockey mask. Eyes like Raph's teddy bears pierced through his mutated being.

"How was your patrol? You got back pretty late." Casey sneered. The disappointment was evident on the teens face. Lip tucked downwards.

He knew.

Leo was sure of it.

"It was fine. (Y/n)'s practice took for eeevvverr! And I thought women were supposed to take twenty million years on their hair not their game!" Leo humored.

"Ha." Casey mocked.

Despite it being the blue color coded turtle's chambers. An uncomfortable spill of stagnant silence over took the room. Air sapped up by rising waters.

He was giving Leo a chance to confess. Be honest now.

But, the veteran already knew what the red eared slider would choose. The ninja was his Commander for fifteen years of his life after all.

"Welp Casey Jr, if you don't need anything else. Some of us need our beauty sleep~" Leo ushered.

Casey took the hint.

"Goodnight Casey."

"Goodnight Leonardo."

The raven haired teen didn't bother making a show out of his departure back to his own quarters. Knowing that their conversation was a good enough indication of trust in their future relationship.

There will be none.

Casey scoffed as he laid back into his bed roll that Splinter lent him.

Fucking Leonardo. It didn't matter if it was the past, present, alternative future that red eared slider mutant mother fucker was always the same.

Spacetime continuum his ass.

Some things just never changed.

¶¶Creater's Notes¶¶

I did it! I finished it! Against my need for sleep I have finished this part dooooonnnneee!

I hope you guys liked it!

This basically is a part 2 to →this←

Might come out with a little ✨bonus part✨ for this little two-shot series I got going.~

I was originally gonna put in this one at the end after the creator's notes but, I was too eager to get this thing out.

Just let me know if you guys want it or not.

Technically I finished last night before bed but, I wanted to proof read one more time before posting.

Catch you guys on the flip side~

393 notes · View notes

stargazer-sims · 1 month

Text

The Art of Redemption

(part 16)

previous // next // story index

—————

This morning, Nikolai is seeing Beth-Anne, Brett and Brett's guardian Jordy off to South Korea, to the World Junior Figure Skating Championship.

Despite his initial concerns that he wouldn't cope well with this situation, he's doing all right. Admittedly, he was a little anxious about Beth-Anne leaving, and he's still slightly envious of Brett's opportunity to compete at one of the most important international skating events of the season, but neither feeling has proved overwhelming enough to prevent him from staying calm and behaving like a normal adult.

A few days ago, Nikolai suggested it'd make sense if he brought Beth-Anne, Brett and Jordy to the airport instead of Jordy or Beth-Anne having to leave their vehicle in the airport parking lot for a week. Beth-Anne agreed it was a good idea, and apparently Jordy had seconded her opinion. Brett, on the other hand, hadn't seemed quite as impressed with the plan as his coach and tutor were, but Nikolai suspected that had more to do with Brett not wanting to show any weakness in front of Nikolai than with any lingering animosity between the two of them.

In fact, Brett had offered him such a sincere apology for his outburst at the rink a few weeks back, Nikolai is inclined to believe there had never really been any animosity at all. He'd had to remind himself that Brett is only fourteen, and even the simplest upsets can seem enormous and insurmountable at that age. They'd both been trying to process some big emotions, and the combination of Brett's anger and frustration and Nikolai's pain and anxiety had the inevitability of disaster written all over it.

Brett understood that too, in hindsight. He said he'd been so focused on himself and his own feelings, he hadn't even considered Nikolai's, and he said he genuinely felt bad for hurting him.

Nikolai could forgive that. After all, Brett is still learning and growing, and no one is perfect anyway. He'd praised Brett for recognizing what went wrong and for acknowledging it. That had earned him a tentative smile from the teenager, and a promise that he'd try to do better in the future.

"I"m sure you will," Nikolai had told him. "I'll do better too. We'll try to do like Beth-Anne says; respond, not react. Okay?"

"Okay," Brett had agreed, and the two of them shook hands.

The handshake had been unexpected from Nikolai's point of view, and he'd guessed it was something Brett had seen his parents do with their business associates. Still, it felt significant to Nikolai, like he and Brett were making a pact of mutual support and respect. They might never become close, but at least they'd agreed that they shouldn't be adversaries, and Nikolai is more than satisfied with that.

Today, he has a feeling their agreement is about to meet its first test.

They took Beth-Anne's truck to the airport, and Beth-Anne drove on the way there. It's the sort of truck that has a small backseat in the cab, so there was adequate room for all four of them, but Nikolai hadn't considered that he and Brett would be the ones sitting in the back. Jordy is easily 190 centimetres, if not taller, and they decided that he should sit up front with Beth-Anne so he could adjust the passenger seat and have some legroom.

Brett's acquiescence was clearly grudging, and he spent most of the ride alternating between staring out the window and shooting annoyed looks at Nikolai. Nikolai didn't take it personally. When he was Brett's age and travelling to a competition, he's sure he would've preferred to sit next to Grandpa or Allison on a long drive rather than beside some guy he only tolerated.

When they got to the airport, Nikolai helped Beth-Anne carry her stuff even though she insisted she could do it by herself. Brett and Jordy each had a backpack, and Brett had his skate carrier, but it seemed they were sharing a suitcase. The thing Jordy heaved out of the back of the truck was huge, but he didn't appear to have any difficulty with it. The last item was a red garment bag that Nikolai knew would have Brett's costumes in it. Jordy handed that to Brett and took charge of the gigantic suitcase himself, and then the four of them trooped into the airport together.

At such an early hour, there wasn't much of a lineup yet and check-in was relatively easy. Nikolai waited for them. He decided he'd go with them as far as he was permitted, which was all the way to security. That's where they are now.

Standing in the large, open space near the doors to the security area, Brett looks terrified. There's no trace of his typical bravado. He seems far younger than his fourteen years, and he's clinging to Jordy like his life depends on not letting go.

The image of Brett as a frightened child is made even more pronounced by Jordy's physical size. The top of Brett's head only comes up to his broad chest, and his arms are nearly twice as big around as Brett's.

Regardless of Jordy's imposing stature, however, Nikolai is certain there isn't a mean bone in the man's body. He gives the impression of being a natural-born caregiver, and Nikolai can't help admiring his patience with Brett's behaviour.

But, just because Jordy doesn't seem frustrated or irritated, this doesn't necessarily mean he's tolerant of Brett's nonsense. When Nikolai starts to talk to Brett, to wish him luck, the teenager turns away from him and hides his face against Jordy's chest. Jordy's immediate response is to admonish him.

The big man leans in to speak quietly to the boy, the beads at the ends of his braids clicking together gently as he bends his head forward. "Brett, that's not how we behave. Your friend is speaking to you."

"Don't wanna talk to him," Brett mumbles into the fabric of Jordy's coat.

"Don't be rude, please," Jordy says. "There are lots of things we don't want to do in life, but we need to do them because it's the right thing to do."

"I just wanna go," Brett says. "Hanging around here is stressing me out."

"We'll go through security in a minute, Brett," Beth-Anne interjects. "Just let Nikolai say what he wanted to tell you."

"All I wanted was to say good luck," Nikolai says. "You're going to do great, Brett. It's always stressful beforehand, but you've been looking awesome in practice and you know what you're doing, so just have fun with it and the rest will fall right into place."

Brett finally looks up at that. "You actually think I'm worried about the competition?"

Caught off-guard, Nikolai stammers, “You're... not?"

"It's not the competition. It's the flying," Jordy explains. "He doesn't like it, and we can't give him anything to help with the airsickness because... y'know. Drug tests."

"Sorry." Nikolai says. "Yeah, I do know, actually."

"Oh, that's right," Brett ventures, finally letting go of Jordy and standing up straight. "Beth-Anne said you don't like flying either."

"That'd be an understatement." Nikolai says. "I'd call it a win if I made it through an entire flight without throwing up."

Brett wrinkles his nose. "Eww... At least I've never done that."

"Consider yourself lucky. Throwing up and crying on an airplane full of strangers is definitely not a good look, and nobody wants to be next to the guy puking on the plane."

"Gross," Brett says, but then he flashes a quick, cheeky grin. "So, I guess that means I handle flying better than you do."

Nikolai returns the grin. "Gold medal to you for that. And I meant what I said. Have fun, and I hope you kick ass over there. It's your last season at Junior level, so make it one nobody forgets."

“Don’t worry. I will. When I debut in Senior division next season, everybody’s already gonna know my name,” Brett declares. “Too bad you’re not gonna be competing. It’d be fun to challenge you.”

“It’s lucky for you I’m not competing. I’d polish the ice so thoroughly with your scrawny butt, everybody'd call you Zamboni afterwards.”

“You would not.”

“You don’t think? When my leg gets better, maybe we should find out.”

Brett turns to fully face him. He meets his gaze and holds it, and Nikolai sees the unmistakable gleam in his eyes of a true competitor who can't resist any challenge, no matter how big or small. “Is that an invitation to a competition? ‘Cause if it is, you’re on."

"Absolutely," Nikolai says. "Beth-Anne can be the judge."

"There’ll be plenty of people around the rink who can be judges for us, but I think we probably won’t need much help figuring out the winner.”

"You're right." Nikolai can feel his smile spreading across his face. “No question, it'll be me."

"We'll see," Brett says.

This is the point at which Beth-Anne intervenes.

"Okay, boys. That's enough." She gives each of them a stern look. "Nikolai, you should know better, and Brett..." She trails off, shaking her head. "No, you know what? Never mind. We'll discuss this when we get back."

Undeterred, Brett says, "Yeah, we can discuss how I'm gonna make him look like yesterday's news."

"Brett, weren't you in a hurry to get through security?" Beth-Anne asks. She waves in the direction of the wide glass doors. "Why don't you and Jordy go ahead? I want to talk to Nikolai for a minute, and then I'll catch up with you, all right?"

Brett looks like he might protest, but seems to think better of it when Jordy lifts their carry-on bags from the floor and passes Brett's to him. "Come along, Brett. It'll be hard to win anything in Seoul if you're not on the plane when it leaves."

They head off toward the security area, and Brett walks calmly beside Jordy for several steps, but then he puts his bags down and runs ahead. Once he's built up some momentum he does a neat little one and a half rotation jump that brings him back down to face in Nikolai and Beth-Anne's direction again.

He waves at Nikolai and calls out, "See you later... Zamboni!"

Nikolai loses it. He doesn't even bother attempting to stifle his laughter as he watches an exasperated Jordy gather up Brett's skate carrier and backpack and hurry after him. Brett is jogging backwards, probably so he can see Nikolai's reaction. Nikolai sticks his tongue out at him.

"Cheeky little shit," Beth-Anne says, but she's laughing too.

"I can tell you love him," Nikolai says.

"What can I say?" she responds. "Apparently, I have a thing for troublemakers."

Nikolai feigns innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell you don't," she scoffs. "You're the biggest goddamned troublemaker of all, Nikolai Pavlenko." But, a second later her arms are around him and she's hugging him tight. "Thank you."

He laughs as he reciprocates the embrace. "Way to send mixed messages, coach."

"Brett's probably going to be thinking about that ridiculous challenge all day," she says. "You know how reckless that was, challenging him like that? But, I'd much rather have him obsessing about how he's going to come up with a way to beat you than for him to dwell on how much he hates flying."

"So... what I'm hearing is that you think I can win the challenge?"

With her arms still around him, she swats him lightly on the back. "Fuck off! That's not what I said at all. And who says I'm even going to let either of you do it?"

"You mean... you can stop us?"

"Oh my God. I'm about to fucking disown you," she says, but no sooner than these words are out of her mouth, she's squeezing him once again. "For what it's worth though, I do think you'd win the challenge. I also think it's a fucking stupid idea, but it if motivates Brett and gives you something to look forward to, then I guess I'll agree to it."

"And you'll help me get ready for it?"

"How about I train the two of you together?" she says. "You can see up close how I work with someone at Brett's skill level, and I think he'll learn a lot from watching you. But," she adds, her tone suddenly no-nonsense. "All this is conditional, do you understand? If the doctor and the sports therapist fully clear you, we'll do it, but if they say no spins and no jumping..."

"I hope they don't say that."

"Do everything they tell you and keep your fingers crossed, and maybe they won't."

"You know what I want? I want to be able to do everything on the ice that I could do before. I wouldn't be able to keep up with a competitive training schedule, obviously, but... I want to jump again."

"I know you do," she says quietly.

"And I really want to do this challenge with Brett if I can, even if it is kind of stupid."

"I know that too." She's trembling a little, and he wonders what she's thinking. They stand together silently until she composes herself and lowers her arms at last. She takes a step back. "Okay, I'd better go. I'll give you a call when we get there."

"Okay," he says.

"You take care of yourself while I'm gone. Do your physio exercises, and don't forget about your appointment at the sports medicine clinic. Hang up your wet towels, and eat real meals, not just peanut butter toast all the time, and—"

'Beth-Anne, I'll be fine," he says. "If I need anything, I know who to call, and I promise I'll do all my exercises and go to my doctor's appointment and eat lots of protein. It'll be okay."

"Sorry. It's just... I'm not a hundred percent okay with leaving you. Plus, it's strange, being at the airport with you but leaving you behind."

"Yeah, but you don't really want to get on a plane with me and my delicate equilibrium."

"Delicate equilibrium," she echoes. "Well, that's one way of describing it. And maybe I don't love sitting next to you on a long flight, but it's being at the destination with you that I'm going to miss."

"Me too," he says. "But, you know what? Brett's not that much older than Eden, so maybe if everything goes the way we think it should, there'll be a day in the future when we'll be travelling to the same destinations again. You never know, right?"

"If I didn't already say so, it's good to see this side of you," she says. "I was beginning to wonder where my sunshine went."

"Just stuck behind a cloud for a while, that's all."

"Fucking clouds, always messing things up."

They always disappear eventually, though." He picks up her backpack and skate bag and hands them to her. "Here, you'd better take these. Not that I'm in a hurry to part ways, but you might miss your flight if we keep trying to have a long goodbye like this."

"Right," she says as she takes her things from him. "Christ, I'm fucking awful at goodbyes. I better haul ass before this gets any worse."

"I'll see you in a week. Good luck, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That leaves it wide open, doesn’t it?”

"Go on," he says. "Brett and Jordy are waiting for you. You got this. Tell Brett I'll be watching on TV and cheering him on."

She offers him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he says, as he watches her rush off.

The drive back to town feels long and lonely. Even with his favourite classic rock music blasting from the radio and a beautiful early morning sky overhead, he can't help feeling a little sad. He hadn't wanted to say anything to Beth-Anne since it was clear she was already worried, but being left behind feels strange to him too. Naturally, Beth-Anne has travelled without him before, with her other students and for her own personal reasons, but this was the first time they'd been at the airport together without both having a ticket for the same flight. He'd gotten through the actual experience at the airport, but now that he's on his own, he's not at all confident about it.

I'm just going to have to keep myself busy while she's gone, he tells himself. That's what Beth-Anne would tell me to do. Keep busy, so I don't dwell on stuff.

With Beth-Anne away, her group classes will be cancelled for the week, as well as the individual lessons for Eden and the two Novice level girls, Ruby and Katie. It's highly likely that Mariah will come to the rink to skate on her own, and perhaps thirteen-year-old Ruby might do the same, but Nikolai isn't allowed to work with either of them without Beth-Anne's supervision. He can watch, but that's about it, and now that he's started helping with the group classes and with Eden's and Katie's individual lessons, he's not sure he'll be content to simply watch any more.

So, if I'm not going to the rink, what am I supposed to do?

He makes a mental list of the possibilities. He'll visit his parents, of course, and he'll probably have dinner with his sister and brother-in-law at least once. There's his doctor's appointment, his daily walks on the treadmill, his and Ginger's planned bowling and pizza night, and he's positive that Grandpa wouldn't mind if he came over to hang out.

At first, this seems more than sufficient to occupy him, but he quickly realizes it's not going to fill an entire week. He pictures himself doing a lot of reading and playing a lot of video games to pass the time.

Then, he thinks about Anya. He's seen her at the arena a handful of times over the past few weeks, but they haven't spoken, and they only text each other sporadically now. This week might be a good time to meet with her and discuss their relationship. Maybe later in the week, because has to talk himself up and somehow convince himself he's brave enough to do it, and that might take a bit of time.

Ginger might be able to give me a pep talk.

He pictures Ginger's reaction if he asked her to do that, and he wants to laugh. She'd probably tell him to march in there like there's no way he could lose. "Approach it like a competition," she'd say.

Oddly, this sounds like good advice even if it's only in his imagination and not technically from his friend. Maybe he can do it, even if he's scared. He's been scared before competitions too, but he's come out on top more than he hasn't, so there must be some merit in that idea.

By the time he gets home, he feels better.

He thought it'd be weird to stay at Beth-Anne's house without her, but the moment he walks in the door it occurs to him that he thinks of it as home just as much as he does his own place. Inside, the air is warm and smells faintly of the French toast he'd made for breakfast. Their empty breakfast dishes are still on the table, and Beth-Anne's blue oversized cardigan is slung haphazardly over the back of a chair. Elvis the cat is asleep in his favourite spot atop the fridge.

Nikolai shrugs out of his coat and tugs off his sneakers. The kitchen is going to need some attention, but it can wait for an hour or two. First, he wants to write in his journal and then take a nap.

He wouldn't normally nap in the morning, but his knee hurts and he thinks the best cure would be an ibuprofen and some rest. He can sort out the mess in the kitchen after that, and then try to find something to do for the rest of the day.

In his room, he changes out of his jeans and sweater and into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and his favourite t-shirt. As he's folding his sweater and putting it back into one of his suitcases, something at the back of the closet catches his eye. It's the cardboard box he'd noticed when he first came to stay; the one with his costumes from the Four Continents in it. He'd meant to go through it and see what else was inside, but he'd been so caught up in going to the rink with Beth-Anne, learning to cook and do his own laundry, doing physio, and working on his new blog that it hadn't crossed his mind.

Well, no time like the present, I guess.

He really is curious, now that he thinks about it. Slipping quickly into the room's adjoining bathroom, he downs two ibuprofen tablets with lukewarm water, and then returns to haul the box out of the closet. He places it on the bed and climbs up after it.

With a pillow tucked under his sore knee and another behind his back, and the cardboard box beside him, he takes a deep breath before grasping the flaps of the box and pulling them open.

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #nikolai pavlenko #beth-anne jones #brett eriksson #jordan remington-grey #stargazersims

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 9 months

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You did Jasper and Alice swap bodies

What if they swapped gift?

Anon's referring to this post.

Now we're talking.

Oh man, are we talking.

Alice, Jasper, and Their Gifts

The thing about Alice and Jasper is that who they are is highly dependent on their gifts, especially Alice.

Alice has no memories of being human, she woke up one day as a vampire, and it was her visions and the hope that she would one day join the Cullens, have a mate, and a wonderful family that kept her going.

Not only that, but she cannot remember a time without them. Alice's every decision, every thought, every action she takes is informed by the visions she sees. We see her in canon (both in Twilight and Midnight Sun) move about her life in an oddly impersonal manner as her every action is reactionary to what others will do in response. As a result, this dehumanizes those around her, even her beloved family, as she starts interacting with them in ways to get her what she wants rather than seeing them as sentient beings in charge of their own choices.

Alice relies on her gift for big things, such as the Eclipse debacle, to little things such as planning Jasper's birthday gifts or seeing what he'll get her. When she can't use her gift, around the wolves and Renesmee, she's actively distressed (granted for good reason as those were high stakes times) but shows how much she relies on it.

Jasper isn't quite as dependent on his but it is a fundamental reason of why he at least initially pursued the diet (Edward argues Jasper does the diet primarily for Alice but we see it as him having had initially no choice). Jasper's gift effectively dog collared him and forced him onto this path that, per his history, he otherwise never would have taken. We also do see him make occasional, casual, use of it to defuse arguments, strip Carlisle of his morals apparently to make the man steal a car and knock out a woman, and knock Bella out. It's nothing close to Alice, though, the gift doesn't define him and for a while he didn't even realize he had it, not until he left Maria.

All this to say, their gifts are important.

They Swap

Alice is now blind all the time. This is much worse than the shifters and Renesmee, where she knows its temporary. Her gift is actively gone. I imagine Alice panics and suspects foul play, the Volturi must have somehow stripped her of her gift. When it becomes clear Jasper now has it, she assumes they guinea pigged on the Cullens and... uh... messed up and gave her very useful gift to Jasper who is also a Cullen instead of to Caius or something.

So, Alice is panicking, Edward's also sounding the alarm, and the Cullen houeshold is a hive of anxiety. However, you also have Alice trying to get by in her daily life and getting increasingly frustrated and terrified that she can't see anything.

She no longer knows who might slip, when strangers will pop in, or even small things like if someone will really like the gift she bought them. Alice will be shocked to discover that she doesn't actually know these people that well, without being able to sift through their future decisions, she has to guess what they'll do and I imagine her guesses are often wrong for the same reason that Edward seems to be terrible at reading people: she's too reliant on her gift.

Alice feels like a stranger to her own family as a result and Jasper's gift making her feel everyone's emotions is not helping her stress levels. Alice ends up unintentionally making everyone angry and terrified as her emotions leak to them.

Jasper, on the other hand, is now witness to all the horrible things the Cullens (looking at you, Edward) think of doing but don't actually do. Jasper is now playing the role of the voyeur he never wanted to in a way he may have suspected at times but never suspected the full brunt of. Jasper has to try to navigate who everyone around him really is, are they only the choices they actually end up making, or also these other futures of choices they consider but don't take.

Add onto this Edward loathing being spied on by Jasper and you've got a hot, hot, awful mess that makes everybody miserable.

I imagine Jasper, feeling like the root of most of the drama, ends up taking a vacation and promising to call if he sees them being confronted by the Volturi. Alice is torn between going with him and staying and terrified something might happen to the family without her knowing if she leaves (and same to Jasper if he leaves and she doesn't follow).

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #jasper whitlock #alice cullen #anti alice cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion

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not-your-fucking-kacchan · 2 years

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Anyone character u want x punk delinquent male reader tall af loads of piercings and wild hair🫦🫦

WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUTTTT

what are we talking about 😩🫦

I'm gonna have fun with this yall

Also this is giving me MAJOR Asuka Langley introspection vibes rn from evangelion.

Namsmnxnd y'all rlly gave me creative freedom so i took that bitch and RAN anskbsnsbx

This is literally a random fanfic idk why I decided to make it literally the most emotional wreck of a group of words to have ever existed.

Masterlist <3

Izuku x Male!Reader - Delinquent

This feeling started during the UA Sports Festival.

You had been plotting to take the spot of one of the 1-A students this year and secure your future as a hero, much like Hitoshi Shinsou. Except, you picked Izuku out of everyone there to prey upon because he looked the kindest. He looked the weakest.

He had those big, green doe eyes like that of a baby deerling, and it made you irrationally angry.

You had so much hatred for the world around you. Your childish wish to 'become the best' and 'save everyone' faded over time, and the only reason you wanted to rise to the top at this point was spite.

Growing up, noone had cheered you on, or encouraged you to persue your interests. You were told that it's better to stick to what you know, and that dreams of the future were destined to be just that. Just dreams.

Over time, you had lost interest in persuing hobbies, or making friends, and had grown to be jealous of all of the kids around you that had what you couldn't get. It was a sinking, lonely feeling, that kept an iron grip on your heart.

It's not like you had some tragic backstory. You were just neglected, like a whole fucking lot of other kids out there. It just affected you in a slightly different way. It had made you bitter.

When you had gotten into UA High, that was when the imposter syndrome really hit. That must've been what drew you to Shinsou, one of your closest and first friends.

Once again, you were bitter about being put in some second rate class and pushed aside. It's like the world was purposely trying to tell you over and over again, that you're nothing special. You're replaceable at best. It had you absolutely livid.

So, naturally, you displaced your anger onto an unsuspecting target, Izuku Midoriya.

You took note of all of his weaknesses and his interests, and during the last stage, when the two of you were paired up for an individual battle, you tried your absolute best to crush his spirit.

You were jealous that he was so happy. That he was so completely perfect. He had a happy childhood and a strong quirk, and so, so many friends he could surround himself with. He had hobbies, and interests, and he was so fucking special that All Might himself was picking favourites. Oh yeah, you noticed that. It only fuelled your spite and hatred.

Underneath all of the brooding looks and big talk was just a little kid, throwing a tantrum at the world because "It's not fair! Why didn't I get what he did?! Why don't real heroes think I'm strong? Why didn't I get parents who love me?! He has friends, he has hobbies, he has dreams! Everything they said I couldn't have, he has in abundance!! Why not me?!!"

Recovery Girl would say something about needing to 'heal your inner child' or whatever the hell that means.

You tried so hard to crush Izuku, and if he were anyone else, it would've worked. You had learned from the best after all, how to crush a person's spirit. But no, apparently, he was special.

Every time you insulted him or told him harsh truths about every one of his dreams and interests, reciting things your parents had told you, he winced, and you couldn't tell why you hated to see it.

You spilled you heart to this boy unknowingly, your fight being a screaming match that noone but the two of you could hear over the clash of earth and Izuku's strength. You had sent boulder after boulder at him, moving the ground beneath him and wearing him down as much as you could, but he refused to give up, and your body started to tire.

'Oh. So that's why he's special. He's just not like me.'

Those were your thoughts as you were knocked to the floor, the world spinning around you as time seemed to slow to a stop.

He didn't give up when things got rough. But you did. You lay on the floor, taking in the sight of the clear blue sky, so close but so far away, the stands full with cheering onlookers disappearing into the background. It's all just white noise now.

You're absolutely gutted at the loss, and the only spirit left crushed was yours, while Izuku was filled with more resolve than ever.

He was just fundamentally better than you, then.

But that's not fair...

Your face was caked in sweat and blood and most definitely tears as you layed on the floor, barely conscious after Izuku's last attack. Your piercings, which had been a result of your boredom while fucking around with a needle, were literally pissing with blood, and your head was swimming in the pain that encompassed your body.

You barely even noticed when the mossy-headed boy had picked you up, carrying you to the infirmary bridal style.

What you said during your fight had struck a chord in his heart, like it had been plucked straight out, not because you had insulted besically everything he had ever loved or associated with, but because he could perfectly translate what you were saying into what you really felt now that he looked back on it.

You were just so angry, and scared and alone. He wanted to stay by your side. He wasn't pitying you. He was just trying to make friends with the guy who'd almost beaten him during their matchup.

That's what made you hesitantly accept his proposal of friendship when you had next awoken, though you gave him no shortage of side-eye.

Over the course of the next few years, the two of you had actually became real friends, best friends, and you had realised that the feelings you were developing towards him were a little more than just friendly. He had shown you what it was like to actually enjoy things, and have meaningful conversation, and he had helped you make more friends. You had fallen head over heels for him.

Because of him, you were doing better in your classes, and had actually started attending them again. You were picking less fights with random classmates. You had even started to study for written tests, instead of just leaving them blank. Izuku was, and is still so proud of you.

He had treated you like you were an equal, and you had let him into your fragile little heart. Now you were in love.

You had kept it a secret though. Izuku couldn't know that you were in love with him. You had no doubt in your mind that Izuku wouldn't treat anyone differently for being gay, but that's not what you were worried about. You just couldn't handle rejection. Your entire childhood and the years you spent craving acceptance proved that. But you were weak for the moss-top.

Everytime he would bat his eyes at you, or give you that world ending grin that literally set fire to every negative emotion you've ever felt in your life, your heart stuttered. He gave everything meaning.

So when you and Izuku sat in his room and he was once again studying the five piercings on your face, one on each side of your nose, your septum, your bridge, and one little stud at the corner of your lip, you learned in close to plant a kiss to his lips, which were so close to yours that you couldn't help yourself. You were a second away from dreading your fatal mistake until you felt him lean closer, not pulling away or recoiling from you.

The kiss deepened as you let a whimper slip past your lips, which he eagerly swallowed, taking charge of the kiss and pushing you down on the mattress so gently.

That was how you ended up where you are now, naked and writhing under a sweaty, breathless greenette who slowly grinds his hips to meet yours.

He moans as you buck your hips up, pushing him further inside of you as his cheeks flush and he pulls you close. Izuku holds you as you mewl and shiver, kissing you gently and making sure you're okay.

Once you're fully adjusted to the feeling of the intrusion you whine and claw at his back, being oversensitive as he pushes in and out again and again, chasing the pleasure that your wet warmth gives him.

"God- It feels so good- t-to finally get to do this with you... Hah- I love you~"

If someone had told you in the past that you would cry when losing your virginity to Izuku Midoriya, you would've laughed and probably beat the messenger half to death, but now here you are, sniffling and crying into Izuku's neck as he chuckles and runs a soft, but strong hand through your hair.

"I- I love you- Izuku!- Please-!"

Your moans fill the quiet of the room, the only other sounds being Izuku's soft breathing and the rain outside the window, while you and your lover interlock your hands and become one.

He reaches down to stroke your neglected skin, your back arching and drool running down your chin. Your thighs shake and this idiot chuckles again, letting himself move his pelvis a little harder and faster, his abs flexing and rippling with each little movement and reducing you to a little melted puddle in his firm embrace.

Oh, he knows exactly where your prostate is, and he's just teasing you at this point, but you don't even get the chance to huff in annoyance before he suddenly changes his mind, his thrusts becoming more intense and his heart set on bullying the little button inside of you.

He gets exactly what he wanted when you sob and release a steady stream of cum that doesn't shoot, but leaks from you and rolls down your length pitifully, tears running down your face while he reaches his own orgasm deep inside of you. His abdomen twitches and he groans so needily, pulling you closer by the waist in a way that has your eyes rolling back, feeling his hot seed filling every crevice inside of you.

God, he is special. He's everything.

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yukidragon · 11 months

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Ian was saying that more complex toppings were more ‘mature’ (as opposed to plain cheese pizza which admittedly is popular with children) plus cashews are expensive/fancy/healthy. Is he trying to project a more sophisticated image or something?

Is poor Sunshine the familiar, reliable but boring childhood comfort food he’s leaving behind to try something (or someone) more adventurous and glamorous?

Does he at one point start to see himself as outgrowing them? (In the opening of the game Sunshine expresses the opposite, implying Ian is the one childhood thing they’re nostalgic for. Ouch.)

He seems to talk about cheese pizza like they always get it, like it’s the safe fallback option… hmmm…

Googling brings up stuff about cashews being offered as a pizza topping in some places in the Northwest, others say it originated from some place in California called Dave’s Gay 90s. Can’t speak to the truth of that and don’t know why a young man living in Texas wants it, but perhaps it reflects his aspirations.

California is apparently home to a number of actors that have made it big and perhaps that’s where his acting school is?

So the cheese pizza is his safe childish past with Sunshine and the Californian cashew pizza topping is symbolic of the acting success he’s hoping his adult future will be?

I don’t know, I’m not American

Your analysis is very insightful. I think you did a great job with it. I really like the idea of the pizza being a metaphor for MC and Ian's relationship.

It would sadly make a lot of sense that part of why Ian cheated was because he outgrew the relationship and MC. It/they didn't satisfy him anymore. He wanted new, exciting, more mature things. MC was safe, nostalgic... a piece of Ian's childhood.

It makes sense too why after Ian cheated, MC recklessly abandons anything nostalgic. They're trying to move on from those feelings that Ian took for granted after the cheating tainted them.

It also makes sense why Ian is so desperate to get MC back, as new things, however exciting, are scarier than something safe and familiar.

Sometimes I've heard stories about couples that were together for years since they were teenagers who clicked just right and seemed perfect for one another... only to end abruptly when one partner suddenly starts wanting more. They want to explore independence, other relationships, and everything the world has to offer. They could even regard their partner as perfect even while their feelings have cooled, lamenting that if only they met later in life when they were ready to settle down in a serious relationship... then everything would feel perfect. They wouldn't be feeling this restlessness. The relationship would actually feel satisfying to them.

Then those same restless exes, after cheating, breaking up, whatever, and losing their former partner... They discover that they miss their ex despite being the one to break their former lover's heart when seeking freedom. The other relationships, though exciting, aren't as fulfilling as the childhood sweetheart they dumped. If they can at least stay friends then there's a chance of getting back together, but if not... then it becomes terrifying as their safety net is gone.

Speaking of the fallback option, there's this one picture that isn't necessarily canon where Ian talked about MC as if they were his fallback option if acting didn't work out.

Credit, as always, goes to the awesome Sauce. Sorry about the cropping, but tumblr will not accept what's to the left of this image. You can check the full NSFW version out here if you want to see Ian and MC going at it.

BTW consider checking out the SnaccPop Studios Patreon. It's got a lot of other nice and spicy things. Just don't repost anything posted there.

Ian might be showing his insecurity here, but consider the timeline. If acting worked out, he leaves MC to go to his fancy acting school. There, he seems to have made it as a model and actor... and it's (presumably) where he cheated. He got what he wanted, all the excitement and fame of the life of an actor... including an exciting tryst... then he realized that he betrayed all his ideals, everything he said before about only loving and wanting MC, and his relationship with MC all for one moment of excitement.

MC was the comfortable option, the nostalgic option, the safe option... but sometimes a person just wants to take risks, to "grow up" and be adventurous... and sometimes that leads to reckless decisions, like what happened with Ian.

We might not know for sure exactly what led Ian to cheat, but he knows he messed up, as he admits to himself in the demo. He knows he wrecked a good thing... and that's why he's so desperate to get his safe nostalgia back.

Guess cashew pizza wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, was it, Ian?

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask #Sauce-y Art

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inhuman-obey-me · 1 year

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If obey me wasnt a otome game what do you think will be different? And it makes me laugh that we are romanticising the devil which just seems so funny. Ik its a game but its just a funny concept

Okay but we love romancing the devil. More games should let us smooch Lucifer/other demon royalty. Please.

But this is a fun thing to think about!

(long game design rambles below the cut)

Even if Obey Me was still a visual novel game but without the romance, there is a lot that could change. We'd have a lot less of the characters vying for the player's attention, meaning the game would also be less prone to gag-type situations and allow for a consistently more serious storyline. It could be something like Twisted Wonderland, where the MC still has a role but it isn't as big nor central to the conflicts and problems of the story, thus playing more of an observer role.

The devs actually mentioned in early videos that when making the game, they had to scale back some of their ideas because they "didn't want it to feel too much like an adventure game" and still focus on the romance since it was a dating sim. Interestingly, Nightbringer seems to be testing the waters on this now and going back to a more dramatic story, so maybe we'll actually get to see that kind of adventure vibe now!

If the game was still following the main points of gathering pacts with the demon brothers...well, maybe we really are just becoming Solomon 2.0 at that point, new title is Solomon Simulator 2023 BC. But really, there would probably be less of MC playing therapist and more letting us have adventures of our own, exploring the world in various ways. Hell, MC might even be living in Purgatory Hall with the other exchange students instead of oddly being the only one put in the House of Lamentation. And this more adventurous theming could also be reflected in events, with more AU themes (Pirates, Spies, Circus, etc) that allow for more fun event storylines that aren't so focused on "romantic" situations and fanservice moments.

Going along with that, we would likely get more character variety in a non-otome game, since it wouldn't be trying to make every character (except Luke) dateable or potentially future-dateable -- less ikemen, more non-male characters, maybe more body diversity! And because there'd be no expectation of romance, you could have more outright hostility too. Maybe Mephisto and Raphael could have actually fulfilled the more aggressive or antagonistic personalities they had been hinted to have! There might also be more of a canonical MC character personality too, since part of the reason it's left more open and vague is to let players self-insert for the romance. This could allow for more narration from MC as well.

Now, if we step away from the Visual Novel style, that could open up a whole new world of possibilities! Imagining OM as more of a fantasy RPG? Super fun thought.

Other characters could potentially be playable, and if so, we could perhaps see more of the characters without MC needing to be in the scene, allowing for more interactions between different characters outside the current format of occasional side/hard-mode stories.

We'd probably get a truer combat system too, even if we were just fighting random minor demons or something like the Little D's in Nightbringer's gameplay. (Apparently the only instruction the team got in making the original game was "it needs dance battles"???) The characters' skills could also be more unique to the characters since it wouldn't have to fit the rhythm/dance game format, so stuff like summoning Lotan could actually be a useful powerful thing instead of just a running gag! In fact, we could see way more powerful magic from all the characters, which would be great since OM as it is now just always conveniently forgets that these are extremely powerful demons for the sake of setting up random shenanigan situations.

A combat mechanic could also add to the narrative design of the game -- what better way to show us what a scary and dangerous place the Devildom is than to have the player have to defend themselves while navigating through it? Or imagine the characters' relationships with one another actually mattering to the gameplay, like Beel and Belphie getting a boost if they're in the party together, as with Fire Emblem's support system! Simeon being a healing angel member of the party at the start and then actually tangibly losing that as a combat ability when that part of the story happened? It would certainly hit different, that's for sure.

The story also wouldn't be confined to the 20-lesson format in that case, which could give more room for fleshing things out properly. And with a freer adventure-based storyline, it might also be a lot less focus on RAD, or maybe it wouldn't be a school setting at all! Perhaps it would focus more on the inter-realm diplomacy parts of the story. Plus, some aspects could get relegated to more environmental storytelling and interactable objects around you, leaving character interactions freed up to focus more on actual events going on.

And speaking of character interactions, there could also be a more complex and interesting system for relationships in a more RPG style game. Instead of an intimacy bar that only ever goes up and doesn't directly impact story events, you could have a more complex interaction event system, like in Telltale stuff or Mass Effect. That could still include romance without it being the central point of the game, and maybe they would also hold grudges over certain decisions, which could feed back into the combat system somehow. Unlike now, you wouldn't be able to go back to change your decisions, but there's a lot of replayability potential there.

Of course, the downside to all that it's way more work to make...game dev is hard, after all! So updates would be slower, it'd probably cost a whole lot more, and it's probably not feasible as a mobile game anymore then. But hey, a game like that would be pretty damn cool.

#yes mod chaos did study game dev in college; why do you ask?#but solmare please license someone to make this #or at least solmare please learn what narrative design is #learn a lot of things actually #we wanna kiss demons but we want to do other cool shit too #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #ask and ye shall be answered #ask and ye shall receive (essays)

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razorblade180-heated · 2 months

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Yo! I typically don’t talk too much about life ramblings and maybe I’ll delete this later, but I’ve been told it’s good to just air my thoughts to the world sometimes; and I have a platform to do it so why not?

I don’t know if this is a me thing or another check in the box for demi sexuality but man do I find the dating world so needlessly exhausting. Like I’ve always thought this. 💀

I get that “casual dating” is a great way to learn about yourself and gain better experience socially but the idea of introducing yourself to multiple people just to become strangers again in three months is draining and annoying. If I’m dating you, then I can see building a future with you, but apparently that’s weird!? Why!? Maybe I really am a bit of a romantic but I really don’t see the point of talking to someone unless the “nothing” conversations feel like they’re everything. Who doesn’t want to see someone and feel this sense of peace like you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until they showed up?

I’m self aware enough to know I might be a tad starved of positive stimulation so maybe that’s why this is such a big deal for me. All I seek is peace and good communication; like I understand people can be shitty and every has their baggage they bring, but it’s so boggling how hard it is to find honesty for the sake of everyone’s time. My ego is so nonexistent when it comes to rejection it’s not even funny. Nobody likes everybody; why are people so petty when so petty if a person straight up isn’t interested romantically? I’m happy you’ve saved us time! Hell, I need more friends anyways! Just be that if possible and I will happily look for someone else who thinks I’m kissable. 😂

I don’t know if I should call this entire thing a rant or what but yeah. The dating world is a bit annoying. Can’t leave it though because if I know anything about myself it’s that I definitely want a special someone I’d fight the world with.

#life #razor rambles #romance #love #demisexual

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kitkatopinions · 11 months

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Do you ever look at a rwby character that's training to be or already is a badge carrying law enforcement officer in canon and think to yourself "damn, I wouldn't trust this person to be a waterpark attendant, I wouldn't trust this person to hold my place in a line so I could use the bathroom, if this person offered me a car ride home so I didn't have to walk I would turn them down because I don't trust them to do that."

Because I do. And somehow the fact that they might not make the best hunters is something that's not ever even really talked about in the show, at all.

Yang? Joined the Hunter academies for the thrills, had a wildly out of control temper and tbh still does, showed some anti-faunus discrimination leading Blake around with a laser pointer, and these days responds to conflicts by launching into fight mode and wanting to solve things through violence, plus doesn't seem interested in working if it's boring if her reaction to Jaune's to-do list and her exasperation through V9 is anything to go by. And she's completely rejecting any and all opportunity to recognize flaws and grow as a person atm, and seems to think admitting flaws or rethinking your past choices is villainous behavior based on her 'that's what Ironwood thought' shut down when Ruby started questioning herself and her treatment of Ren.

Weiss? Starts out as a raging anti-faunus bigot suggesting they call the police on Blake and comparing Faunus to trash cans, idolizes her 'hero' grandfather despite the fact that he was a capitalistic billionare who (iirc) tried to strip Vacuo of its resources and built the SDC into the fabric of society. Recently, she pointed what was essentially a loaded gun in the face of an underage auraless civilian because he didn't immediately spring out of the way and let her enter his house - and no, him being her brother doesn't mean that was okay. She also doesn't actually seem concerned with doing actual work if it isn't super big and important and flashy.

Jaune? He wasn't even sort of ready to enter Beacon when he did. He cheated his way in when he didn't even know what aura was, and the only reason he didn't die was because of Pyrrha saving his ass and trying to train him, and even then, he was leagues behind the others and the only reason Cinder didn't murder him at Haven was author-plot armor. But now that he's got twenty some years of work under his belt (which I still really resent) he's also doing things like calling clearly sentient people stupid and treating them like five year olds, and yelling in the face of a seventeen year old that she's responsible for plans he had just as much of a hand in as she did and victim blaming her for being attacked by an evil villain who was trying to murder her.

(To be clear, for the above three characters, I'm not saying 'they point blank should not ever have been hunters because of their traits and/or flaws and/or flawed motivations, I'm just saying that I would've wanted there to be more of themselves and others questioning it and them working on their flaws specifically and squaring away some of their more selfish motivations before becoming law enforcement officers with badges.)

COCO? She likes being feared, her friends lovingly describe her as sadistic, she thinks letting teammates have a say is a sign of a weak leader, she's judgmental towards people from Vacuo, she gives strong anti-Faunus vibes and it's treated like it's okay because she's friends with Velvet, she tells Velvet NOT to fight when Grimm are bursting into Vale in V2 and then leisurely takes her time fighting one Grimm because she apparently can't be bothered to care when civilian's lives are on the line, she makes snap judgements about people for no reason, and also she's a big old hypocrite, and defies authority carelessly.

CARDIN?!?! You would think they would've at least addressed CARDIN properly, as a real actual significant problem, since he was a future badge carrying law enforcement officer who also targeted minorities, and tried to blackmail people, and gave off strong misogynist vibes, and liked knocking around his own teammates when they got in his way. Like???? The only thing we know changed in Cardin's behavior was that he was leaving Jaune and Jaune's friends alone because Jaune had 'stood up to him.' The writers didn't think that it was important that we as an audience got to see him either get hardcore checked and start being not that way, or get expelled and restricted from continuing on as a Hunter due to his behavior? We're just supposed to be like 'oh well, there's Cardin the anti-faunus power play loving blackmailer training to be a hunter, but that doesn't matter because the writers only cared about him to bully Jaune so who cares about him now?'

I'd like to actually engage with this story! I'd like to actually have the story of rwby discuss what being a hunter means and how some of these characters aren't well suited currently to be hunters. The writers have no interest in actually making their characters good Hunters or figuring out what being a 'good hunter' even means (case in point, V9,) and instead just expect everyone to be on board with absolutely no reflection. Why should I think Weiss deserves her hunter badge again? Why should I think Jaune deserves his hunter badge? I don't currently think they should be hunters because I feel like they haven't even thought about if they really want it or would be good at it. Because ever since V2, it's just been a foregone conclusion to the writers that the mains (all dropouts in their first year) are Hunters and deserve it and will be great at it, but they've never actually bothered to convince me of it with some of these characters. They expected their audience to just think it too, and shrug and accept it, and they now refuse to engage with the flaws their characters have either or whether or not their traits are well suited to the task of being a badge carrying law enforcement officer, so... Yeah. I wish that the show challenged the 'of course they're all destined to be hunters' thing.

#rwde

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