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bonny-kookoo · 10 months

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Jungkook

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [Snippet] 🔞

Jungkook just loves to show you off- because while everyone on his planet might get to look at you, he gets to touch and love you in private.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, Extremely flirty Jungkook, suggestive, Major Fluff!, Romance, Established Relationship, JK has tentacles oops, smut

Length: It was supposed to be a drabble but I ended up writing ~2.5k words oops

There is no taglist for this fic

A/N: Boo here you go hybrid alien tentacle porn yay 🥳

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"There you are!" Jungkook sighs in relief, finding you in an isle for fresh produce, staring wide eyed at the round plastic containers filled with cubed fruits. "You want those?" He asks, pointing at one with pinkish and pale yellow cubes. You nod.

"Sweet?" You ask, unsure, and he shrugs, pulling the item down to inspect it, before he nods.

"Yeah, those are sweet- but I gotta…" He mumbles the last part, reading the label a bit further while you begin to wander off again- though this time you're pulled back by his hand reaching out during his task of finding out more about the fruits he's about to buy, to hold onto the hood of your light cotton jacket to keep you close this time and not lose you again in the grocery store. "..safe for human consumption. Hm, there's nothing written about hybrids though.." He mumbles to himself before he pulls out his phone to search online if you can eat those fruits native to his home planet, hand now leaving your hood- one of his extra appendages sneaking out from beneath his shirt to hold onto the belt loops of your shorts to keep you close.

Basilisks- that's what they're called here, which confused you for a good while, until you learned that they actually didn't ever have a true name, but that it was simply an earth-term his kind had adopted to use for them, because it sounded like a similar word which means 'Blood-snake' in his native language. You remember how terrified you were of his uniquely inky-purple colored tentacles everyone of his kind has- mostly though because you met them when he'd used them to defend you both, the images still very vivid in your mind. But these days, you've come to love them as just another piece of him- even though you remember Yoongi, a good friend of his and your doctor currently, explaining to you that they do have their own minds.

'It's actually quite surprising they chose you.' He'd told you. 'I've never seen them so interested in their host's mate.'

Mate. It's still odd to think of yourself as that, though it makes sense with how he cares for and about you.

Jungkook is, nowadays, a bit more careful now with your food for example. He'd hate for you to have another situation like a month prior when you had eaten Nacuri- a vegetable he himself actually likes a lot, but that is apparently not very good for hybrids such as yourself, having caused you some major stomach cramps that pained him to simply watch- and ever since then, he's checking everything twice just to make sure. "-but can be eaten as a snack in small quantities." He reads out loud. "Alright, so only the small box then!" He chirps, putting the big container back to exchange it for a smaller one.

The moment his hands are free again, his inky-purple appendage disappears underneath the back of his shirt again, hiding away as to not get in the way, while he holds your hand as he walks through the different isles at the store.

He notices you yawning a lot more now as you stand on the metal parts of the shopping cart while his chest is warm against your back, and he's learned that's not always just a sign for tiredness in humans and hybrids. "We'll be home soon. I didn't think the line for checkout would be this long.." He tells you, hand running over your hybrid ears, while you suppress another yawn, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes from it. Oxygen levels inside buildings like these are fine for him and his kind- but humans and hybrids like you need a lot more than him to thrive properly. It's why he's got a special air filtering system installed in his home to accommodate for that- to make your life with him as comfortable as he possibly can.

It's the least he can do to show gratefulness for what you've done for him in the past, after all. And also, what kind of partner would he be if he didn't provide the absolute best for you?

He doesn't like how your ears droop after a few moments more- so he searches in your shoulder bag for the familiar pale pink plastic inhaler, setting it up with a few clicks for the proper dosage. "Here. It's almost our turn." He reassures again, offering the inhaler to you which you take with a nod. It'll help you with a bit of extra oxygen until you're out in the open again, levels today high for his kind, but perfect for yours. "Do you wanna eat the fruits in the gardens near the Archives?" He wonders, and you seem to think.

"What about.. those?" You ask, pointing at all the groceries.

"We can eat the icecream there too. I've got a spare blanket we can sit on, in the car." He says, leaning in to rest his chin on your shoulder. "I wanna have some.. cozy time with my baby, what do you say?" He purrs, and you shiver a bit, bunny tail wiggling around.

"Hmhm." You nod. You're not sure what entirely he means by 'cozy time'- because with him, that could honestly mean anything.

Later, outside on the blanket he'd laid out in the park in a more secluded space, you're happily filling your stomach with the fruits he'd bought you. He's watching fondly, because moments like these remind him that the past truly is behind the both of you. You no longer seem scared of anything as long as he's around. You speak freely to him, you're not shy at all, and you've even become a little bit daring these days.

You're no longer the empty, confused and almost soulless hybrid he'd met years back at the facility he'd found himself in. You no longer need to be told exactly what to do or otherwise you'll end up having a panic attack. You've become your own person, independent. You've blossomed, vibrantly.

And he loves it.

He loves you.

Especially now, hours later back at home, groceries still in their bags in the kitchen while you whine pitifully against his lips, with his grin satisfied while he watches you cling onto him. Something you've learned fairly quickly is that his kind is one that treats intimacy a little differently than humans back on earth. There's nothing forbidden or to be shy about for his kind- every type of intimacy or romantic displays of affection are normal even in public- no one stares at a couple kissing or hugging. If anything, people will just instantly believe a relationship is bad if there's no PDA ever between mates.

And sex? That's something sacred, it feels like.

Enio people just like himself find pleasure by feeding off of other's pleasure. They thrive when their partners thrive, they're happy when their partner's happy, and they're sad or in pain whenever their mates are. They also have relationships between multiple people- rarely ever having just one partner. Jungkook however had told you numerous times already that he's completely fine with just having you.

'Why would I ever need anybody else-' he'd said into your neck, '-when you're making me lose my mind every single time we're together?'

He's long lost his shirt by now, his dark purple tentacles already eagerly touching you. They're clearly just as excited as he is every single time you're together like this- and it's honestly almost cute.

Almost- if it wasn't for one of them very eagerly sliding right through in between your legs, back and forth, making you cling onto his arms as he watches you with an intense gaze. His eyes have always been something unique- like two pitch black voids, but only ever if the light doesn't hit them just right, making you able to see the deep red-ish brown and slanted pupils, similar to a feline. But in times like these, in the barely lit bedroom of his, they're just two nightsky colored marbles, reflecting anything like a galaxy.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip, licking over his silver piercings on one side. His grin is that of a predator, watching his prey struggle. But not for it's life- no, you're struggling for entirely different reasons.

"They're horribly impatient." He chuckles when one of his purple appendages moves to instead play with your pearl, before it prods at your entrance, almost as if to see if Jungkook will allow it.

He doesn't.

And it's clear with the way they retreat from between your legs, instead roaming your hips instead, before two of the four spread your legs open for him. That's how it usually goes- a rule set by him. Only he gets to be inside you- gets to claim you like that.

Your underwear is still hanging from your ankle when he pushes himself inside, hands gripping the soft flesh of your waist. He tends to be impatient like this, can't help himself, as he always tends to say to excuse his eager nature. You're perfectly compatible to him, physically and emotionally as well.

You're his, and he just can't help but want to make sure everyone knows that.

The windows are open, and your sure someone way down can probably hear your faint moans, but you can't bring yourself to care about it. "My baby.." he purrs into your neck, where he kisses and sucks his marks, hands gripping your body wherever he can while his tentacles roam around to offer you their own ways of pleasure.

You don't kind the almost sticky substance they begin to leak onto your skin. You've gotten used to it by now.

You're dizzy with everything going on around you. You're unable to quite move much, but you don't have to- both Jungkook's arms and his extra appendages make sure to keep you in place while his hips snap into yours, skin wet as it stays connected to his with thin strands of both your arousal and the sweet smelling precum of his tentacles.

A year ago, you would've tried to hide in shame of it all- thinking you dont deserve nice feelings like this. You would've never thought you'd be loved like this, touched like this.

But he's made that possible. He makes it happen time and time again, and in every touch he places on your skin you can feel the tenderness he has for you in his very soul. He's not lying when he says he loves you. He's not deceiving you with acts of kindness and care. He means every single affectionate gaze he throws your way.

You love him because of that alone.

"My sweet little bunny baby.." he chuckles out of breath as he rolls his hips in just the way to make you arch your back in pleasure, as he leans over you to kiss your lips bright red.

He likes to bite. Likes to pull a little on your bottom lip and likes to get you into any position he sees fit. Sometimes he'll kiss up your back as he takes you from behind- other times like now, he wants to watch your face as you come undone under his steady pace.

It fuels his ego every single time seeing you all fucked out like this.

Every time it's proof that he's a good lover to you.

The moment you come undone and clench around him in waves of pleasure, he's quick to shoot his shot as well- hips stuttering as he pushes himself inside, one of his tentacles sneaking between you both, running over your pearl just to coax another orgasm out of you, thighs trembling a little. You're somewhat glad his basilisks are keeping your body in place, because at this point you're just absolutely boneless.

He's humming in pleasure as he sighs into your neck, body covering yours now almost protectively. 'Shielding' is what it's called- you've looked up some of his behavior just to figure out things you're too shy to ask him yourself. It's an instinctual thing- a remnant of a time long passed when his kind had to protect their mates whenever they were in a vulnerable state.

And then he moves again, tentacles slick with their own arousal as they wrap around your ankles, adjusting your legs as he moves lower, his hands on your hips cherishing your skin it feels like.

And then his mouth is on you, licking you up, probably tasting both you and him in a sinful mixture- but it's another behavior of his that always repeats. He does this every single time, claims it's nothing special and that for his kind, it's basic care after getting his own fill of you. He's constantly surprised at what things surprise you- but then again, you both grew up on entirely different planets, with entirely different culture surrounding you.

So it's normal that some of the things you do tend to catch him off guard as well.

Such as after you're both done showering and cleaning up- he's always surprised how clingy you get after being so closely together just minutes prior. Normally, with his kind, it's like he's recharged his social batteries- now able to go about his day easily, no need for too much physical affection. But for you it seems to be almost the opposite- you love to cuddle and be close to him afterwards, and maybe that's one of the key points that just make you so endearing to him.

He loves cuddling. He loves being lazy with you, especially like this. "I booked our flight to Doria for the end of this cycle." Jungkook hums into your skin, letting you lay almost on top of him, skin still bare. "It's gonna be a long flight, but I already talked to Yoongi about medication in case you feel sick." he reassures you, and you just nod, way too tired to really comprehend what he's talking about. "You're not even listening at all, are you?" He laughs because he knows as well- though he doesn't mind. He knows your body works a bit differently than his own, and knows by now he can be… quite exhausting.

So he let's you sleep, and decides that maybe a short nap isn't the worst idea either-

especially not if he gets to sleep with you in his arms.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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tornado1992 · 4 months

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Tails is not a big fan of clothing.

But, he’s also not a big fan of Sonic forbidding him from using black hoodies, besides the fact that it’s an oddly specific prohibition (like what’s with the sudden interest in clothes?) there’s also the fact that Sonic didn’t exactly tell him why and just said something along the lines of “black is not your color”. Well first of all, RUDE, he would look so cool in black!, and second of all, who does he think he is? Sure he’s his big brother but not his boss, he’s the boss! He’s eight years old, he can wear whatever he wants!

So he might have just bought some black hoodies on purpose and he might be planning on wearing one today just to spite Sonic (this will show him, he does look good in black! Even if he never actually wears it…).

He usually arrives to Tails’ workshop at… 1 minute from now (oops, well, time flies when you’re scheming odd ways to annoy your big bro, time to shine, he only has 30 seconds left!), putting on the hoodie that quickly comes with the price of messing his bangs upwards instead of the looseness they usually show, oh well, doesn’t matter, maybe the new hairstyle would look good with the new clothes! He could even try and put on some metal accesories later, maybe something to make his tails look cooler.

He can hear jumpy and joyful steps as the front door opens rapidly behind him, Tails turns and puts on the biggest smirk he can manage, preparing multiple comebacks for anything the speedster could say about his new look, but when his sight reaches his big brother he notices there’s no annoyance surrounding him, not a bit of anger, and not a drop of amusement, all he can see in those emerald eyes is shock, before is evolved to confusion, just to be replaced by a pure sight of fear and something so much alike sorrow,.

Tails gasps to the sudden reaction, he was expecting Sonic to mock him for his wardrobe choice, not for him to freeze dead on his tracks without a word, not for him to just stare at him, and certainly he wasn’t expecting the upcoming tears he could see forming in his brother’s eyes.

Sonic stays still, looking at Tails as if it wasn’t him in that black hoodie, almost as if he was an alucination, a dream or even a ghost, just seeing right through him. Tails himself stays frozen while looking everywhere for the cause to his brother’s sudden change of attitude, he isn’t sure if he’s looking at the same Sonic he knows through those glassy eyes.

There’s hesitation in Sonic’s steps when he walks towards him, slowly, as if expecting the kit to disappear if he moved too fast, not that he noticed, he was far too busy thinking of a way to chase away his brother’s tears, and just as Tails turned his sight back at him he found his cheek being cupped by the hedgehog’s trembling hand, his sorrowful gaze directed to the kit’s face while he rubbed the fur on his muzzle, with such gentleness, as if he was holding the worlds most fragile, precious gem, a new softer touch finding its way to his bangs, putting them back to the usual style.

Sonic wasn’t one to show such direct affection, at least not in physical form, even if he was acting strangely clingier this past few days since the battle in the mountain… this was a whole new level, and Tails is not one to deny any of his brother’s limited edition physical affection acts; the last time Sonic held him like this they were far more younger, Tails being way more tinier, not even tall enough to reach and look straight into Sonic’s eyes, but that wasn’t a problem then, Sonic made sure to carry him so he was close enough for their foreheads to touch, that had been for special occasions though, for when one of them (mostly Tails) needed it, wether it’d be because of sadness, fear, sorrow, or a dreadful combination of all.

Apparently Sonic needed it this time, because the warmth of the hedgehog’s forehead against his wasn’t a memory anymore.

Yeah, Tails won’t be wearing that black hoodie again anytime soon.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #sonic prime #miles nine prower #eeeeh was it clear that Sonic saw a bit of Nine in Tails? or the other way round?#I mean he clearly DIDNT wanna see that because he knew he would cry his eyes out #unbreakable bond #sad sad sad Sonic #it’s o longer Wednesday but hey this more sad than wholesome right?#maybe we should make angsty unbreakale bond Thursday or smthn #idk but the content of the bros just pops in my mind at random times and hell almost never on Wednesday

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pear1escence · 5 months

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I miss what you’d do to me

Keegan P. Russ x Reader

Content Warnings: angry man idk

Might be a little messy cause the original draft with this fic got deleted yesterday and suddenly came up on my blog again so I’m just trying to fit some of it into what I’ve rewritten.

He’s a piece of shit in this, oops. (not really tbh) 1k+ words

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Keegan’s hands force the glass of water out of your grip, slamming it down on the kitchen counter. “I’m trying to talk this out, can you just fucking listen to me?!” He yells, hands waving around him to try and further express his anger.

He’s scary like this. You’ve never seen him in this state before. The way his body language gets more aggressive, his voice raw with frustration. “You’re so fucking frustrating, telling me you miss me when I’m gone and ignoring me when I’m home? Huh? Why the fuck do you act like this?!” His fist slams down on the counter, punctuating his words.

The anger is so familiar it hurts. Harsh, raw voices tearing at you and hate so burning hot you’re sure it’ll bruise. That scary, tall figure of a man towering over you. Fear, straight fear of what could happen to you if you didn’t keep your mouth shut and your eyes on the floor.

His words are spoken in a different language, the only thing you register is how jarringly hateful he feels. How scared you are. How it seems like at any moment, he could pick up that cup and throw it at you, or kick you to the floor, or do something, anything to hurt you.

Keegan’s warmth all around you when you wake up, too direct and unexpected. Confused, hurt glances when you refuse to stay, slow, aimless walks during the evenings, cold dinner and missed calls. Your pit of loneliness filled with adoration so suddenly that you have to pull away.

Your mind is a fucking mess, thoughts and emotions dragging around in a swirl of words and images you can’t possibly put to words. Keegan’s only making it worse, and you can’t bear to feel like you did before once again, and everything your mind has fought to keep away is forcing itself back into your body, so you have to slip away from yourself to make room for it.

Your body curls in on itself. Your eyes staring intently at the floor to avoid looking at him, and your arms wrap around your body and squeeze as hard as you can to try to make everything real again.

‘Look at me when I’m speaking to you.’

He’d said that to you when he was angry. You remember the way he got angrier when you wouldn’t look at him.

You force your eyes to move back to Keegan, even though his seemingly unstopping anger only makes it harder to tear your memories away.

It’s all so fucking unfair. You don’t want to have all this shit to deal with. He’s long gone. Out of your life, yet all the anger he’d thrown at you all those times still lingers in your mind.

Keegan’s love feels foreign. Kisses all over your face, a warm body wrapped around you as if to shield you from all the bad in the world, sickeningly sweet words coated a thousand times in love being whispered into your ear. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do with it. What you’re supposed to give him in return. It’s all wrong.

It’s weirdly comforting. The way he’s yelling at you. You’ve had it before, and you know how to navigate something like this. Keeping yourself out of the way, not being a bother, shutting the fuck up. You can’t feel guilty when Keegan’s an asshole, when he’s a piece of shit, cause if he’s not perfect all the way through and too good for you, you don’t have to be perfect either, and you don’t need to feel bad about pulling away and distancing yourself.

You almost forget any of this is even happening. It’s all gray and lifeless and fucking dead. There’s a bubble around you, keeping you separated from your emotions and making it impossible to explain anything to him. Keegan’s outside the bubble, his words are muffled and it’s like you’re underwater. His hands keep moving around, and he keeps shouting. Your body feels stiff and awkward. You can’t open your mouth, can’t dig a single word out of your throat to explain why you are the way you are.

“Did I do anything wrong? Anything for you to treat me like this? You’ve gotta tell me about these things, we’ve talked about it before but you keep fucking repeating this behaviour!” You hate the way he’s scolding you and you want to scream at him to stop, to get out, to shut up or just about anything to get rid of the ugly feeling in your stomach.

Keegan stops, his jaw clenched and his fists squeezed tight. He looks at you with so much anger, confusion and frustration you feel like you’re about to vomit. Something inside you finally breaks when his hand slams down on the counter again, harder than before, the sound deafened by the curse he shouts in frustration.

It’s like you slam back into your body, and you’re suddenly confronted with the trauma, the hopelessness, the shame you’ve been pushing away for years, and you have absolutely no possible way of keeping yourself together.

You’re so far from being in control of your body it scares you, sobs and tears pouring out of you while you can’t do anything other than feel the mess of emotions stirring at a furious speed inside you. Your legs give out, so you’re limply tucked into the corner where the kitchen counter meets the refrigerator. Metal handles dig into your skin, everything is too much and you can’t live like this.

You cry harder when Keegan’s arms wrap around your body, he lowers himself to the ground till he’s sitting next to you, pulls you into his lap and turns your body so you’re facing him. His words are unintelligible, but his tone is so different from the harshness and hate he’d thrown at you less than a minute ago. His big hand weaves itself into your hair and guides your face into the crook of his neck, his other arm wrapping around your body and shielding you from anything else.

Warm skin against cold fingertips, a mess of hair tickling your forehead, his lips pressing kisses to your head again and again. This is all wrong, it feels wrong, and you want him to yell at you again, you want to see him angry at you cause you deserve it for treating him like shit. You want the hate in his eyes to hurt you, selfishly, so fucking selfishly, because it’s the only thing you know and the only thing that would make you feel better about yourself.

You know the chaotic anger he showed, and it felt good because everything else about Keegan feels foreign. The warmth that comes with his touch and his gentle, sweet words, things you can’t force yourself to accept.

His fingers massage your scalp as he rocks you back and forth on his lap. “I’m sorry. Im so fucking sorry, I’m sorry.” He murmurs, his voice back to what you know, comforting, familiar because it’s all him, all Keegan.

He keeps rocking your body back and forth in his lap, talking to you softly, stroking your hair, and it feels good to be taken care of like this. To be treated like a baby, like you don’t have any responsibilities or problems.

You don’t look at him. When he begs you to look at him you shake your head, pushing yourself even closer. He talks but you don’t listen, whatever comfort he wants to give you is mirrored through the deep murmur of his voice, which is comforting enough to listen to on its own. You want to melt into him, stay with him forever, never have to talk. He’s all warm. You cry till your breath runs short and your throat feels hoarse, you cry until you’ve cried out all your years.

“It just feels so different. Like, foreign. The way you treat me.” You whisper against his skin, your hands slipping underneath his shirt to grip at his bare skin, feel that he’s real and human and here with you. “I don’t know what to do with it. I feel like such a fucking-“ your breath hitches, your words interrupted by another sob forcing its way up your throat. He holds you tighter and you’re practically buried inside him, your hands squeeze at the skin on his back.

He shushes you, kisses the hair that falls over your forehead. His hand moves to cup your cheek, lifting your face so that he can see your tearful, red eyes. “I’m sorry.” His thumb moves across your cheek in repeating motions. “I know all this is hard for you, I’m just..” his breath hitches, and his hand squeezes the chubby skin of your cheek. “Don’t let me yell at you like that again, never.”

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If you enjoyed this check out my other Keegan fics, I have a bunch😭😭 all in my pinned!!

#keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #cod ghosts #keegan russ #call of duty ghosts #call of duty keegan #keegan p russ x reader #cod

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splitster · 8 months

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answering more asks!!

featuring pom wraith, pingo, ocs?!, and older art check it out (three's some art 💖)↓↓

THANK you!! ohhh i do have old pikmin ocs... i actually revamped my old captain a while back, i can share him:

i had a whole crew of pikmin ocs who were a part of the S.S. Harmony, they were gonna be SUCH a nuisance to everyone they ran into...

i thought about making a rescue corps oc for fun. hrmm! maybe...

AHHH thank you!! i've seen a shocking number tags and asks from people saying that I'm apparently the reason they like Dingo now? and i have to say that is so mind boggling to me, because when i first played Pikmin 4 I didn't care about him at all!! he was a nothing sandwich to me... but then i drew him a few times... and started thinking... and then things went downhill and now i REALLY like him...

(referring to this post) i think dingo is better when he's withered

(referring to this comic) I HEAR YOU... I HEAR YOU... but if any tear at all would cause oxygen poisoning, i wouldn't be able to draw them all battered and cool :(

i imagine that there's a seal around the neck in case there's a breach in the suit's lining. so as long as their backpack (life-support) works and is connected to their helmets, then they can breathe✨

(referring to this post) Olimar would be horrified because he knows Louie, and if he sees that note there's only one thing it could mean! his coworker tried to eat pom!! if pom hasn't been outed as wraith and Olimar is questioning her, she'd just say Louie bit her and then refuse to answer any follow up questions 💖

Shepherd would be... concerned. she might think they have a weird fling going on and louie's talking about a kiss? she probably wouldn't realize Louie quite literally means he ate something from pom. oops!

that's a really good question... I'll be honest, with a lot of the "when and how did x happen" questions, there's not an official timeline or anything; the pom wraith au is sort of an umbrella with a bunch of different stories and what-ifs underneath it. although there was one story where louie does find out her secret!

louie and pom end up bridging their differences (with the help of olimar), and become good friends while pom is continuing the rescue effort. then there's a very unfortunate incident where pom and louie are away from the base and they're attacked... pom has to reveal herself to defend them and she accidentally hurts louie :(

its fine though, louie doesn't care what pom is. they're both freaks in his mind and that's all that really matters. he does end up having to defend pom from olimar (who's been made vindictive through his trauma with the plasm wraith) sometime later!! here's some older art:

sure

me too! they do NOT get along... louie's kinda pissed at her for chasing him around on PNF404 and beating him in dandori battles when he just wants to stay there and vibe. pom meanwhile doesn't understand him, he pisses her off too! she likes olimar a lot, and as an outsider it looks like louie doesn't appreciate the friendship olimar offers him. to someone who's trying to understand and participate in this whole friendship business, she thinks he's ungrateful and weird. they do not get along!! at the beginning at least...

AHHHH!!! THANK YOU!!! WAHH...🥺💖💖 i'm very glad you enjoy my silly little art style!! i want to make things very squishy so i appreciate that 💖

i don't think that man is going to live!

wait actually if you eat enough maybe you just turn into a wraith. that'd be scary! hopefully olimar's there to stop him

that's a fun thought! he would probably be able to sense that something is off about her. but he'd also probably just think "she's weird like me." honestly, the whole wraith thing doesn't really matter much to him -- the only thing it changes is that pom can now offer her tendrils as a skewer for his cooking at any time and location!

i think i'm gonna call her rose wraith!! and ohh, i didn't know that... i was just gonna call her rose wraith since she has a rose head. i'm creative i promise

(referring to this post i think) AHHH hehe... honestly, when Pom first learns about Dingo's fear of blood, she only tries to keep him from it because it's really annoying dealing with your coworker when they faint. he's like a sack of potatoes when he's knocked out. but yes, as they become actual friends pom will (subtly) do her best to keep blood away from dingo. it's fortunate she doesn't have any!

she might not get phobias, but she understands what its like to have a crippling fear, so she's empathetic!

THANK you. he has sunglasses. he's pretty cool

AHH THANK YOU... i like them a lot... 👉👈

let the marching pikmin give you the energy you need to practice🫡

#modpost #modask #pom wraith au #pingo #thank you for all the asks!!#i have more to get to so i'll make another post...

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gardenofnoah · 2 years

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be sure to come back to me

i love Nanamin so much it hurts me physically. i also love writing him as a normal (totally alive) human being who is in love and struggles with it sometimes. i’m a big slut like that.

wc: 1k (oops) cw: hurt/comfort, nanami is anxious and in love

Usually someone who revels in the silence, Nanami Kento doesn’t understand why he’s struggling with it tonight. You’re here, form fitted to his body like a second shirt. He knows you are here with him—present, presumably in love, alive. But knowing that doesn’t stop the discomfort from writhing in his gut like a half-dead fish.

Of all the things he knows, he is most acutely aware that this is the last night you will spend in his arms for a while. He knows that he does this every time—on the night before a mission, his strength abandons him, and he can’t beat back the fear.

Fear of leaving you. Fear of not coming back. Fear of not giving you enough of him. Fear of letting you see too much of him.

It terrifies him—the thought of his absences piling one atop of the others—a debt gone unchecked, a weight that eventually causes you to buckle.

Fear of coming home to find it completely devoid of you.

He’s left you behind countless times, and each time you are here when he returns. But it’s worse every time, because what if it’s the final straw that breaks you? He couldn’t bear it. He worries you can’t either.

But you’ve never complained. On nights before he leaves, you let him cling to you. You hold him just as tightly. You’ve never told him that you wished he didn’t have to go—he knows you do, but you spare him the guilt. You carry all of it, and him, like it is only a pillowcase filled with so many feathers. He adds to them, and he hates himself for it.

It’s traditional, in your adopted night-before-missions routine, to let both of your feelings go unspoken. To just be with each other. But tonight the quiet tears at him like the dullest knives and he can’t take it.

“My love,” he whispers into the dark, and it’s strained at best.

“Ken?” He hears you call softly. It is so sweet against his ears, it makes him sick. He holds you closer to him.

“I need you.”

You pick your head up off his shoulder at that, he assumes to look at him, though he can only vaguely make out your features in the dark. He thinks it might be for the best, because he knows he is worse for wear right now, and to see that reflected in your face would be so much more than he could handle.

“I’m right here,” you say gently, squeezing the fingers he has wrapped around yours.

“I know. I just—” he pauses, squeezing his eyes shut—fighting to stay upright on this ship, in this storm, “I’m afraid.”

“Of?”

“Everything,” he whispers, and it’s as earnest as it is broken.

You are silent for a while, and he worries he’s broken whatever fragile façade he’d been holding up. Worries he’s gone and dropped too much of himself into your lap. Too heavy, too heavy, too heavy. Carry it yourself.

“Kento,” you murmur, prying him from his thoughts. He squeezes your hand in response, not trusting himself to speak.

“I’m right here,” you say again—firmer this time, like there’s a point you’re trying to make—“and I’ll be right here when you walk through that door again. You’ll come home to me like you always do.”

He doesn’t know what to say, and even if he did, he doesn’t trust himself to say it. So he says nothing, but the grip he has on your hand is almost bruising. You don’t protest.

You sigh, pushing yourself up with your free hand until you’re straddling his waist, face inches away from his.

“Hey,” you whisper, prompting him to meet your eyes as best he can in the dark, “you can let go.”

And something in him breaks, because of course you know. Of course you understand. He lets go of your hand only to wrap both arms around your middle and pull you on top of him, his face pressing into the skin of your throat. You don’t say anything about the droplets you feel, gathering into the hem of your shirt. You don’t say anything about the way the breath in his chest stutters against yours. You just cradle his head like you are the only thing that can protect him. Right now, you might be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, muffled and broken. He’d be embarrassed if he could—humiliated at the way one of the strongest sorcerers is reduced to a pathetic mess at the thought of his own inadequacies. But you told him to let it go, and he’s trying. Trying to do what you want him to. Trying to be what you ask for.

“I love you,” you tell him, and he lets out a pitiful whimper against your neck. So you tell him again, and again, and again. You tell him so much that he feels it settle over him like a thick blanket. It’s one that he’ll keep with him—carry with him even when he can’t be here, and he hopes it’ll be enough. He squeezes his eyes shut and breathes deeply and it fills his lungs like so much water.

When he opens his eyes again, there is sunlight streaming through the curtains, cutting through the dark and illuminating little spots over the curve of your shoulder. He finds it hard to look away, captivated by the push and pull of breath that causes your chest to rise and fall. Propping himself up, he can’t help but lean over to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He gets closer, breathing you in and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your skin, pressing his lips to your face again for good measure. You don’t stir, and he’s grateful—you deserve rest. He hopes you won’t be upset with him for not waking you to say goodbye. He's put you through enough—he considers this to be an act of kindness, even if it hurts you. So you don't have to watch him leave again.

“I’ll be home soon,” he murmurs, and he doesn’t miss the way your hand finds a grip in his shirt.

He means what he says. He doesn’t think there’s anything in the world that could keep him from this.

this fic belongs to me @b-writes-things. i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.

#HHNNNNGGGG what did I DO #sorry I just feel in my heart of hearts like this man is a crybaby and I want to [redacted] him over it #i am so feral over nanamin #nanamin #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami fic #nanami x you #nanami x gn reader #nanami fluff #BWritesThings

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quinloki · 1 year

Note

Can I request dacryphilia, clothed Dom naked sub and spanking for killer, kid and wire (of course if you are comfortable writing for him) have a lovely day/night 🫰🏽

Heck yeah, let's do this. These are creeping up on about a week behind, so my apologies anon (I mean, I did warn I was de-prioritizing these, but still <3 )

I love the Kid Pirates, one of the few crews where you can be sure I have head canon for even the BRIEFEST of characters on the crew.

I've - *ahem* touched on spanking with Kid and Killer, but it was in specific and non-generalized cases, so we'll happily do these a second time without issue.

We'll go by character - in alphabetical order.

Kid:

Dacryphilia - Oh god your don't even know - Within the confines of a session, Kid is more than happy to see you just fall apart. Whether your tears are from being overwhelmed, or because he's degraded you into a mess, or because you've been choking on his cock, he's all for it. Good sessions are messy, whether sex is involved or not. Granted, most of your session with him when you're first together are going involve sex, but once you've been together for a while there's certainly going to be some purely emotional sessions.

Much as he'd be loathe to admit it, he does value that emotional connection, that bond, that vulnerability. As loud and crude and vulgar as he is, he is every inch capable of maddeningly deep love. He might not know well how to deal with that, but he can get there.

But your tears are a sign of vulnerability, and that you don't stop session because of them sinks into his core. Now, your tears outside a session are more liable to cause him to panic (or get angry if you're not yet in a relationship). And honestly, gods forgive someone else making you cry, cause Kid won't.

Clothed Dom Naked Sub - Oh god you don't even know - This is a beast in his natural habitat. He'll take his time peeling away the layers of your clothing (or making you take them off) if the build-up and anticipation works for you as well. Clothes on, clothes off, clothes torn to shreds, clothes stripped - he's very flexible, but there is an extra level of power dynamic in this setup, and he revels in it.

Gods save you if you're a brat, because he certainly prefers to dole our punishments with this setup.

I imagine he honestly has a couple really nice tailored suits just for stuff like this. Black suits with blood crimson accents and leather gloves that creak just the right way when he flexes his hand.

(Oh... I am a tad distracted now.)

Spanking - FUCK Yes - Unless you're willing to push back, Eustass is gonna smack that ass. During session, outside session. He does it to show possession, and because he likes the way you jump when you don't know it's coming. If you're not cool with it outside sessions he'll respect that (with maybe an occasional oops), you can be sure that during sessions those hands with be on your ass.

Smack, squeeze, rub - until your cheeks are red and you're wet and panting against him. Over his knee, bent over the desk, down on all fours sticking your cheeks up in the air for him, crops, bare handed - he's here for it all.

If you want to yeet it into Oh god you don't even know territory, then beg him for it.

Killer:

Dacryphilia - FUCK Yes - Kid and Killer share the "sessions should be messy" mentality, though Killer takes it to a slightly less extreme than his captain does. There's also specific tears Killer is okay seeing come from you during a session - Killer's a Sure/Yes on Degradation, so he doesn't really like seeing you cry from that. He does like being able to wipe away your tears when you're overwhelmed, or gagging on his dick.

Much like with most of the Kid Pirate crew, crying outside of sessions is a way different vibe for Killer. He handles tears better than Kid does, but he doesn't like them. (He's also more likely to straight up murder someone for making you cry than Kid, surprisingly.)

Clothed Dom Naked Sub - Yes - Killer prefers to stay clothed, (not that it takes much to get him to strip), but he kind of prefers everyone to stay clothed. Moving just enough aside to be able to satisfy you is way hotter to him than him being clothed and you being naked. That said, he's by no means against this kink. There's still plenty in it for him to enjoy himself.

He probably doesn't start with a tailored outfit for the occasion, but I can see him having a few things he'd wear specifically. (At least one outfit is that pre time-skip deal with the tasseled pants and boots, and good bless than button up cause he just leaves it unbuttoned and there's all that thick chest hair <3 )

Spanking - Oh god your don't even know - Killer is very tactile. He loves touch and being touched. He loves the more his touch effects you, and he loves when he can leave marks on you that will fade. So spanking hits a lot of buttons for him all at once.

He also brings that quiet little daddy dom energy vibe he's got going on into it as well. How his good little one gets spanked and how his naughty little one get spanked are very different, and may you experience both in the ratio you desire.

Unlike with Kid, begging is not optional with Killer in this regard.

Wire:

Dacryphilia - Sure? - Wire, my tall quiet softie who comes in at like Extra Tall and equipped with a modified pitchfork. He's not uncomfortable with tears - in or out of a session, but he's not really into them either. He can appreciate how you could cry from good things, like over-stimulation, or a really good orgasm, and you tear up giving him head, and he wipes the tears away and whispers little praises to you. He's not turned off by your tears, but he's not looking to specifically make you a mess in that way.

He will skewer a bitch for making you cry though, but while Kid or Killer might do so whether you want them to or not (or before you could even stop them), Wire will give you a chance to stop him.

Clothed Dom Naked Sub - FUCK Yes - Wire does like to strip you, slowly, more than have you start out naked, but he does prefer to keep his own clothes on. Even when your roles are reversed (Heat and Wire both feel rather switchy to me, in both dom/sub and top/bottom roles), he prefers his partner to end up naked vs himself. He won't stop you from stripping him though, or making him strip - it's a preference, not a hard line.

Admittedly, it is nice to just disappear under that cloak. >.>

Spanking - getting spanked Yes, spanking FUCK Yes - I feel like Wire got a spanking from Kid at one point, and couldn't sit comfortably for a couple days so it's not as high on his list of things he enjoys. But he does love watching your skin get red, watching you squirm and moan and pant bent over his knee or a desk or what have you. He's not hugely verbal, but he loves listening to other people, so things like spanking or wax play or ice cubes, and the like, he enjoys. He's not trying to hurt anyone, he just want to hear all the sounds you can make.

I can see this man's enjoyment of sound equating into him being a hell of a DJ in a modern AU.

Kinky One Piece Head Canons

#kinky one piece head canon #eustass kid #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer #wire one piece #x reader #eustass x reader #killer x reader #wire x reader

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object-headed-characters-yes · 19 days

Text

Day 7- Doubt

I find RGB’s interactions with the previous heroes fascinating, and I like to wonder what those interactions would be like when RGB is alone/between heroes. So oops, this turned into a longer one-shot with RGB and Click.

Additional note: I still think about that panel of RGB seeing Click in the Market and Click pointing and making the shooting motion at RGB. In this one-shot, RGB isn't aware of where Click's eyes actually are. Some tags/etc. since this is longer:

Angst, torment/pain via shooting, violence, RGB/suffering, taunting, RBG running his mouth doesn’t do him any favors with Click, musing over the concept of pain both physical and mental for RGB, reminding one of one’s failures with a similar departure, some hurt/comfort (a lil RGB/Madras if you squint), despair/resignation/acceptance when the same thing happens again.

RGB didn’t notice the Doubts gathering nearby as the futility of what he was attempting to accomplish began to feel like a huge waste of effort. RGB should just give up, instead of fighting, and finally accept what was fast becoming inevitable.

And yet…

RGB can’t stop now.

Despite the hurt that came from becoming attached to his previous heroes who had failed, RGB just couldn’t stop now. Not after all he’d done to find the loophole that he was currently taking advantage of. And he knew better, now, after a few heroes, to be a little more careful so he didn’t end up in another situation where he had to abandon his hero to their doom.

Once was enough.

Once was enough to make the guilt linger, even if RGB told himself that it was for the best.

Click had not been what RGB thought he would be as a hero.

RGB’s walk had slowed as his thoughts briefly dwelt on the failed (and abandoned) hero. RGB could only hope that the next hero (after Click, and the last few) would surely be able to go on longer and succeed compared to those who came before? RGB needed to shake off the malaise that was plaguing him before he could not even accomplish going to find a hero again and-

Ah.

That explained his current train of thought.

RGB had come across the field of Doubts.

What terrible luck.

RGB was soon surrounded by many of the creatures, no longer squabbling amongst themselves. The telly-headed monster staggered along, occasionally tearing away Doubts that began to cling to him.

Almost out of the field.

Just a little further.

Click-click-click.

That sound…

Click-click-click.

Now, of all times?

Click-click-click.

RGB unwillingly stopped in place at the sound, wondering if he’d had a shadow the entire time he'd been going back to the beginning.

“Click.” RGB greeted, not turning around just yet as he raised his hands up and away from his pockets. No matter how much he wanted to go for something that might give him time to get away from Click, and any possible hurt that came with his appearance. Unless, of course, Click had changed his view of RGB, yet that was-

BANG!

Pain flared through RGB’s left leg, making him stagger then collapse to his right knee, swiftly using the cane in his hand to bat away a few Doubts that had wiggled closer as his other hand braced in the grass.

A bullet clattered nearby.

“Not even a greeting, Click?” RGB questioned, managing to speak without obvious agony; like he was just having a chat with an old friend. An old friend understandably upset with RGB’s previous action. “I thought a little repertoire might happen before you shot me, though as you see, it went right through me.”

The sound of the weapon could be heard being repositioned.

RGB knew what had Click after him.

Click knew as well RGB that the television-headed monster had abandoned him to a doomed fate. And now Click was within range of his guide turned enemy, again seeking to remove that which caused his inevitable demise in this world.

“You know, I thought we had quite a good chat before coming to this world." RGB had yet to reach for his suit coat, and every passing second he stood there meant being overwhelmed by the Doubts, or shot. "Surely, we could have that civil a conversation again? I am on a bit of a schedule here; I’m sure you understand that.”

A few clicks, a gnashing of unseen teeth, despite the fact RGB was fairly certain Click had none.

Not anymore.

“Even if I know you’re not precisely, ah, pleased with my previous decisions and actions, I’m sure you know it’s a, well, unfortunate 'duty' of mine to continue to find new heroes, correct?”

Silence but for the ever-sounding click-click-click that accompanied the former hero turned a tin solider in this place.

“My dear fellow, I don’t suppose we could take this conversation you clearly insist upon having to a less hostile environment?" RGB wheedled, doing his best to figure out a way to defuse the situation, so to speak. "I do think we may have had some sort of misunderstanding when first we met, and I can’t help but think that this has carried over after your…change in appearance, and the incidents that followed thereafter.”

“As before, you speak too much.” A voice of three in one spoke aloud at last. Another click, as metal creaked and moved, changing shape. “And I think this field is fitting, for someone like you.”

“How do you figure that?” RGB batted away another Doubt with his cane, his other hand’s fingers digging into the ground with unease.

The muzzle of the rifle lightly pressed between where RGB’s shoulder blades would be.

“Your doubts about me…your doubts about the ability of this place to be saved; despite trying again and again…you abandoned me. Left me to die, and become what I am now, after you killed the 'me' before that." Click harshly grated through the three-toned voice. “You’ve doubted all previous heroes brought to this cursed place, haven’t you? Doubted their skill to keep up with you in this madness. For your heroes to understand the rules without being told, unless pressed with a question for an answer." Click’s voice became rough and laced with fury underlying pain. “Doubted their ability to do what you were unable to accomplish, leading us all to be pawns in your attempt to make things right that you yourself couldn’t?”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.” RGB couldn’t quite hold his unease over being called out like that, but he figured some of the previous heroes, and now Click, had figured him out, and saw through his facade. Though RGB's thoughts were dashed when the muzzle of the rifle lowered a tad.

BANG!

A bullet whizzed through where his right thigh would be.

The cane fell with a muted thump to the grassy ground as RGB’s hand joined his other in the grass. He held himself up, arms trembling as the agony of both the bullet wounds traveled through him unseen, the second stringing pain traveling through his thigh. RGB’s other leg was as about to shift to balance on his hands and knees to not topple over, when Click moved.

Click-click-click.

RGB wordlessly winced when Click stepped on his wounded left leg, grinding the boot now a rifle butt down as the rifle made from Click's own arm moved with the lifting of said arm. RGB briefly found his voice. “I don’t suppose we could-"

BANG!

Twice more the rifle went off, one shot going through RGB’s left shoulder blade, while the second shot flashed through the upper arm of his right.

RGB’s voice became wrought with static as he gracelessly collapsed to the grass, just barely turning his television head to the side to avoid having the glass crack upon impact. Seeing as it was grass, there was likely no need to worry, but RGB wasn't going to tempt fate further that dat.

The 'boot' moved off of RGB’s leg.

Click-click-click.

BANG!

Another shot, this time through RGB’s lower back. Then, the rifle roughly pressed to the back of his telly-head.

“If you want target, might I suggest the rather abundant population of Doubts that are surrounding us?” RGB wheezed out through the speaker, color dripping excessively down from his screen, several emotions overwhelming him all at once. RGB tensed when he felt the barrel of the rifle shift, almost thoughtfully, to one of RGB's vents. “Taking on those Doubts might be able to help with some of that built up anger of yours.” The rifle moved again to roughly press back against the back of RGB’s head. “Or you could do this, I suppose.”

“Like I said before-“ Clicking and metal sound overlapped before a hand reached around RGB's shoulder to seize the volume control on the front of his television screen. “You speak too much, but for what I have in mind-“ Click cranked up the volume to its max setting. “I want you to be heard. To scream.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. As much pain as you could cause me and the 'hurt' that it brings won't make me ‘scream.’" RGB commented, his voice now very loud. Conveniently, the Doubts didn’t like it and had moved a little way away from him and Click. “More of a static feedback, I suppose? I’m not really one for screaming and all that. I can certainly talk more if you’re keen on that conversation and are done with shooting me.” RGB’s arms ache as he braced himself when Click irritably used both his hand and the one currently used as a weapon to roughly flip RGB over onto his back. Staring up at Click, the blank-faced soldier appeared cold and unwavering. This gave RGB pause. What was he planning and-

“I want you to feel helpless when they come for you.” Click’s otherwise stationary head tilted to the side, the gold buttons on his solid jacket shimmering. It was if they, too, were eyes that were giving RGB their whole attention as Click's arm turned weapon lowered from the center of his screen to his chest, just below the bow tie.

“Who do you-“

BANG!

A bigger, more painful flare of agony tore through RGB’s chest, dragging out what he thought couldn’t be brought out so easily. A scream of agony, despite knowing no real harm was done to something not truly there, or what was already gone.

Click-click-click.

The muzzle of the rifle moved to the side as Click awkwardly knelt alongside RGB, body shifting metal in order to do so as Click gripped a handful of fabric to yank RGB partly upright off the grass. For whatever reason, Click was leaning over past his television-head, Click's chest level with RGB’s television screen versus the toy soldier’s head. Maybe he couldn’t bend that far with what his body now was?

RGB’s screen was fuzzing and static, the technicolor smile slipping to a thin line of pure agony. But through this, and the jostling via Click’s hand, RGB could have sworn the decorative detail across Click’s chest formed into three sharp smiles, the buttons gleaming on either side of these. It gave off the impression of three faces gleefully enjoying the clear pain RGB was experiencing despite the lack of blood from any of the bullet holes in RGB’s suit coat and pants legs.

“The Fears.” Click responded to RGB's earlier question as he jammed the rifle point-blank against RGB’s chest, just to the side of the hole the previous bullet had made. Click leaned in close, those buttons are like eyes, piercing RGB, the imagined smiles twisting up in sadistic pleasure. “Scream, and suffer, like you made me suffer when you abandoned me to my fate in this place of make believe.”

BANG!

White-hot agony tore through RGB this time, barely noticing that he’d been let go of as the back of his telly-head roughly hit the ground.

Some other gunshots went off, as well as a loud blast, but neither of these were aimed at RGB.

The Doubts?

RGB felt a hint of doubt but it wasn’t as strong as before.

“Good luck getting to your next victim.” Click called out from a further distance. “The Fears have come. They sense yours rising.”

Ricocheting bullets scattered around RGB, dispersing of the remainder of the nearest doubts.

RGB could feel the fear creeping in, drawing in the Fears, the jagged lines of their bodies drawing nearer through the grass.

“Should you survive this, know I will always be around to find you again.”

The click-click-click-ing grew quiet, until it could no longer be heard.

Click knew better than to test a large crowd of Fears, or even a Grief, should it show up, knowing well he didn't want to be caught and overwhelmed like when he'd been a hero, and been abandoned by the one who'd asked him if he wanted to be hero.

RGB’s limbs trembled, but he couldn’t find the strength to get up. He was frozen by pain and the growing fear.

Click-click-click.

Wait.

Why was he coming back?

Why did Click-

SPLASH!

RGB let out a garbled static gasp, fear skyrocketing as he felt the water get into his vents and inside his television head and-

STAB!

The Fear!

RGB weakly reached up to grapple at the head of the Fear but his hands lost their strength, thudding limply to the ground. Other Fears closed in, while the Click-click-click of Click’s retreat could be heard, the tin soldier agreeing to be a hero and being abandoned by RGB, now abandoning RGB had him, and however many other heroes suffered a similar fate.

Another Fear stabbed into RGB’s body; as he lost his vision of the world as his screen went out.

A long blank of nothingness hung around RGB until, with an unnecessary gasping breath, RGB woke up in a different area. An area close to where he went through a door to go recruit a new hero for a doomed narrative.

How…had he gotten here?

Hadn’t RGB been overwhelmed by the fears, after being shot many times by Click, and then splashed water as an effort to ensure RGB might be taken out?

RGB placed the back of his hand across the top of his screen to stare up at the sky overhead.

Well, that had been quite an awful experience, even if Click did have justification to use him as target practice.

The aches remain, as did the bullet holes in his clothing. RGB would have to have the amour repaired or replaced. But that would take more time to go back to the Market and only give Click a chance to find him again, to try and take his revenge for what RGB had done to him.

Standing stiffly, RGB brushed off his suit and pants as best he could, adjusted his boater hat, and picked up his cane that had miraculously appeared with him, instead of being left behind in the field.

A question of how would have to be left for another time.

As much as RGB didn’t think it would be best to go look for a hero while sporting bullet holes in his person, RGB couldn’t dally any longer. Surely there would be at least one person interested in being a hero who wouldn’t be put off by the sight?

As it turned out, RGB had found someone to be the hero of the story. He brought them through a brief gauntlet before the two managed to get a little breather in the House of Paint.

The hero did, that is.

While the hero slept, RGB was subjected to Madras’ concern as she took her price of two pints in return for replacing all the items RGB had lost when Click shot him in the chest, shattering the glass vials hidden beneath.

RGB, once the pints were taken and the vials were stored, went upstairs and sat down, Madras joining him briefly to lean against his back, arms around his shoulders.

They remained there in silence until RGB broke it.

“Click shot me. Multiple times., at that.”

Madras’ arms merely tightened around him, encouraging RGB to continue.

“I don’t think he is interested in talking to me.”

“Would you, in his position?” Madras asked.

“After what happened?” RGB was quiet. His head hung a little. “No.”

“I’ve told you before to not get attached.”

“I know.” RGB’s voice was quiet, despite not turning the volume of the television down. Right, when had that happened? Wasn't it at high volume before?

“You can’t help it.” Madras said.

It wasn’t a question.

“Does that make me a fool?”

“It makes you vulnerable.” Madras poked a finger through a hole in RGB’s suit-coat. “It makes you hesitate.”

RGB said nothing as he turned his head in the direction of the door.

“Don’t get attached.”

“It’s like you said.” RGB’s right hand reached up to rest over one of Madras’ hands. “I can’t help it.”

Madras’ eye settled on a mirror in the corner of the room and saw the self-deprecating multi-colored smile stretching across the lower third of RGB’s screen as his other hand gripped the cane tight.

No more words were spoken.

RGB wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but when he woke, he led his newest hero from the House of Paint.

Not a day later, RGB lost them.

Click may have a point; whether or not RGB intended to, whether he left his hero behind intentionally, or did his best to keep his hero safe and well, something inevitably went wrong. This led to them being trapped within this world of make believe, resentful or hateful toward RGB, unable to go home even after the hero was no longer the hero of the story.

One of these times had to be different.

It had to be.

RGB couldn't keep doing this when he was unable to fully detach himself from the situation and he inevitably, in one way or another, became attached to the heroes he brought here.

#the property of hate #the property of may #tpoh fanfic one-shot #tpoh rgb #tpoh click #it seems like someone may have talked click’s ear off so now click has no patience for rgb’s gabbing after what happened #wow this got long #I present fanfic in place of fanart

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finniestoncrane · 10 months

Note

Hi!!!!!!!! Firstly I want to say, sorry I've been so dead my brain has been doing not so good but gosh I'm so happy for you!!!! This is such a big milestone and this event is the cutest fucking thing are you kidding me

But anyway!

I'd like to dine in tonight please! Just a water and question mark nuggies for tonight annnnnnndddd I'll take seared broccoli and guacamole to keep it green 💚

- E.F.

dano!riddler x gn!reader, word count: 350 content (warnings): oof emotional and cruel eddie with a gentle and understanding reader (who is basically just your oc oops) the kitchen is now closed! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: aaaaah effy you don't have to apologise, i hope this cheers you up a bit! 💚

Stepping back from Eddie's hunched figure, you wrapped your arms around yourself. He wasn't usually this difficult to soothe, it wasn't like him to shrug you off, to push you away. He had his moments, but he was always keen to let you bring him out of them.

"Everyone needs their moment to wallow though."

You repeated it to yourself once more, trying to decide what the next steps would be. If Eddie was in one of his moods, there was no telling the damage he might do to himself, or to others.

"I need space! I need space to work. I've always had space, always had silence and solitude. You've come in here and you've... you've stolen it!"

With a swipe of his arm, Eddie brushed his notebooks and papers off the desk.

"I hate this. I hate this city. I hate the people in it. I hate you."

Tears threatened to fall, the telling stinging in your eyes causing you to blink rapidly, to try and force them back. You knew him. You knew this was an emotional reaction to something else, lashing out because he had no idea what else to do. It didn't mean that it hurt less, though. Or that you had to tolerate it. You did the best you could for Eddie, and you'd be there to comfort him again when he was past this. But for now, it seemed like he wanted, or needed, to be alone.

"Eddie. Whenever you're feeling better, I'll come back. I know you're upset. I know you don't mean that. I love you."

You placed your hand on his shoulder, stroking across the fabric of his shirt with your thumb as you waited for him to say something, an apology, anything. When you were met with complete silence, you placed a soft kiss to the top of his head and turned around, finding yourself suddenly held in place by his gentle grip.

"Please... don't leave... it's all... it's too much alone..."

You could hear his muffled sobbing against your chest as you held him in a tight embrace, hear his apologies through the whimpers. You knew him well enough to know he would stop eventually.

#finnie writes #finnie1500

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hoodievixen · 11 months

Text

With My Own Eyes - Part 8 (Dream of the Endless x OC)

Based off of this

Summary: Morpheus just wanted to keep his soulmate safe. She just wanted to make her own decisions. Doesn't help that he doesn't show her his face.

Words Count: ~ 2.7 K

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, witchcraft, bad grammar and even worse spelling, !Comic Spoilers!

A/N: This is it, the end. (Almost forgot to upload it today... oops) Prepare for some angst.

Tag List: @intothesoul @ poemfreak306

Master List

Her bed was too soft. Instead she clambered to the ground, curling herself into a ball, backed into a corner, walls pressing into both her shoulders. Sibyl mumbled descriptors of everything she saw, ignoring the tears running down her face. She should lose herself to her emotions, she might start another fire. She didn't need to deal with that at the moment.

Even her tactic of keeping in the physical and not the mental was not working. As she was describing any item she saw in great detail, more items appeared. She swear they came in puffs of sand. The first was her bag she had left in her room in the Dreaming, then the paintings she made in the Dreaming, and every sketchbook she dared scribble in. Even notes of grimores she left in the library. Anything that could remind him of her he sent away.

Soon Lily was clenched into as small of a ball that she could get. Her breathing out of control, as the only thing she felt was lonelyness, complete and utter lonelyness.

----

Johanna wasn't sure what she was expecting for the loud banging at her door in the middle of the day. Defiently not Lily, drunk off her ass and crying. "You do know it's only three," Johanna commented, letting the closest thing to a friend she had lean into her.

It wasn't strange for Lily to disappear for days on end without so much of a word. However returning drunk was indeed new. "Heart break knows no time but sorrow," the witch sighed.

Johanna hated how she'd get poetic when drunk. Luckily Lily rarely gets drunk. "Did you get back tk get her with Jerome?" she wondered dragging in the drunkard. "You know that never ends well."

With uneven balance Lily stood up straight staring at her arm. Rarely did Lily walk around with her arms bare. Johanna knew Lily got annoyed with how people would come and touch her cause of her tattoos, but also that she was hiding her soulmate's name, something the magic user hasn't even seen, until then.

Johanna felt pitty for her friend. There scralled on her arm in pretentious writing was Dream of the Endless. She felt bad for Lily, connected to that prik by date. Clearly she didn't have good feeling a about it either, as the skin it was on was red and irritated with small scabs developing. Lily had been vigorously scratching at it, as if to remove it. Even in that moment she dug her nails in the raw skin.

"I'm guessing that prick's the reason your like this," Johanna commented, bringing in the witch to have her sit on her couch.

Lily glared at her arm. "I don't even know what he looks like," she said softly.

Johanna sat down, letting her sad friend lay down in her lap. "You aren't missing much," she commented, picking at Lily's hair. By the looks of it it hadn't been washed in days. "His hair's a mess, eyes are creepy, and personally his cheeks are bit too sharp for my taste."

Lily looked up to her friend, wide eyed and with fresh tears. "You know what he looks like?" she asked in disbelief. Silent tears ran down her face.

-----

Lily woke up with a hwad ache and a show back. "How much did you drink?" a annoyed voice asked.

She peaked up to find a familiar person, and in a familiar place. "I think like... too much,"she answered, though mind elsewhere. While she had grown used to not having dreams with being in the Dreaming, sh hadn't had one since she got back.

Johana stoop up from her desk, coming to sit down next to her friend." Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to try and skin your arm again?" She handed back Lily's dager.

Lily took it back, before throwing it in the pile of her jacket and shoes. It was then she noticed she had a thick bandage over her arm, where her soul mark was. She hated it now more than ever. "What have you figured out from my drunken rambling?" she wondered, placing a cold hand against her forehead.

"Well the oh so lovely Dream of the Endless sis somehow your soulmate, and refused to show you his face," Johana explained, "Which confuses me."

Sibyl sighed. "Basically dude kidnapped me, and we made an agreement I'd stay in his realm for about a month, before deciding if I'd stay or go."

"Did you try the teleportation spell?" she questioned her friend. Sibyl didn't have a long streak of being the most clever.

"Oh yeah," Lily assured her, "And I should have just finished it.

But I stayed, begrudgingly at first. Then I grew to not mind being there, than I liked it that, and..." There were words Lily wanted to say but couldn't bring herself to. Her eyes stung and heart ached at the thought of it.

She let out a deep breath. "The entire time he had on this monstrous helm, like seriously, spine trunk. He refused to show me his face. I was patient, but I couldn't let him continue to do what he wants without showing me he trusts me. I went to remove it myself, cause it was either taking that thing off or being done with our relationship. I thought he'd see logic and reason. Instead he took ending it not his own hands, sending me away... I haven't even had a dream since."

Lily looked to the floor, meloncholic. By some miracle, or dehydration, she wasn't crying. "I'm angry, sad, and so frustrated," she groaned, finanly getting to voice her feelings. "I don't even want to acknowledge we're soulmates. I don't even want to be soulmates. I'd do anything to get this fucking name off of me."

-----

Ripples through the universe are not common, but they do happen. So two happening within such quick succession of eachother was something to take interest in.

The second one struck sunthing deep within Dream. Something he had long since ignored and tired to forget. No matter what he had to go a see what it was, knowing nothing good will come from the visit.

It had been centuries since he last visited the Mediterranean island. He had never thought he would step foot on it ever again. The care takers asked no questions, but kept their haze to the ground, moving out of the Endless' path.

Dream stepped into the small build that had been his son's home for most of his deathless life. Or what had expected to be deathless. The caretakers had already prepared the head of Orpheus for burial.

There was only a handful of being that could bring about the end of Orpheus. Dream knew it was no of his siblings, none would do such a thing. Even Desire, after all his son was a means to an ends for his sibling. He had to wonder who, no what has killed Orpheus.

It could have eazily been missed. Tucked in the corner of the window sill was a flash of reflected sunlight. It was a large metal knife, no dagger. Dream kne that Dager, from one side being solver while the other iron, the worn and loved leather gril, and the protective charm carved in the pommel. The fish time he had seen it, it had been pull on him, the next it was covered in it's owners blood. Now it was clean, not a single drop of crimson. Red however, there was a strand. Near the blade was a strand of red thread, cut red thread.

Sibyl had been there, and somehow involved with the death of Orpheus. While she had powers more so than the average human, no witch would have the power to undo the deal between Death and her nephew. Something wasn't right. Not in the slightest.

Dream pulled up his sleeve, and urge that pricked at the back of his mind. He hadn't known what feelings he felt anymore for that name on his arm. He once loved it, bringing him hope, and was something he protected. But now it left a sour taste in his mouth. He had believed that Sibyl had been different, different for his past lovers, different from all other humans. She was the same as the rest. He knew that the moment she tried taking off his helm. Dispite his best effort to forget them, her words of trust did ring in his ears, causing a sliver of guilt. Had she had a point?

It did not matter anymore, as his arm was baren.

-------

Johanna thought she was finally done with all that. It had been a couple days since Lily last called her in tears or in anger. She couldn't blame her, but it was getting to be a lot. When the magic user felt a precense in her flat, she assumed the witch had somehow gotten in on her own again. Turning on the lights revealed otherwise.

There ein the middle of the room was something she did not want to see again. Even if only in her dreams. "Why are you here?" she asked Dream of the Endless.

"Constantine," he said in a low tone. "I need your assistance with finding someone."

Johana gave him a look of questioning. "Can't you just wait until they fall asleep?"

Dream's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. "They have somehow managed to disconnect themselves for myself and realm entirely."

Johana noticed how his gaze lingered down at his arm. She scoffed. "If it's Sibyl Crow you are looking for," she started, "You entirely deserve what she's done."

Dream glared at the woman. "How do you know Sibyl?"

Johana rolled her eyes, "You really think a magic user and a witch living in the same city wouldn't at least be aware of eachother."

"You appear to be more than acquaintances," Dream continued to push.

"That's cause Lily's a clinging bitch," Johanna groaned, "She's so lonely she'd befriend a rabid dog..." No matter what she had tried, she couldn't get rid of the witch. She just gave up after a while.

She had already pulled out her phone to call the witch. Maybe he'd go away if Lily herself told him to fuck off. It went straight to voicemail. Johanna let out a sigh of annoyance, though not concerning.

"Have you tried her flat?" Johanna asked. It was still early into summer break, there wouldn't be a reason for her to be working yet.

"It is warded against my entry," he explained.

"Well lucky for you, I got a key," she answered, pulling said key from a drawer. Sybil had put it on a rediculous key chain of a pink puff ball, as to prevent Johanna from loosing it.

--------

Sibyl's flat was a mess. Not that it usually wasn't. However there was the makings of a pyramid of empty cans, both of energy drink and alcoholic. Lily wasn't much a fan of either, never consumes the in large quantities. Take out Containers filled the trash can, as well as plenty of counter space. Usually she kept her witchcraft neatly packed away in the small dresser that was her alter, yet scattered about her entire apartments were books on anything mildly unnatural in subject, maps of laylines and other things Johanna didn't understand.

Something caused her heart to stop. "She wouldn't," Johanna mumbled, grabbing at the pages of scarred notes about the apartment. She barely payed attention she Lily called her, thinking the witch just needed someone to rant to. Still Constantine caught it in bits and pieces, Sibyl was looking for a way to sever her fate from Dream's. "Lily's dramatic, but she wouldn't pay that price," she tried to reason with herself.

"What do you know Constantine?" the Endless demanded.

"Please tell me her names still on you," Johanna pleaded. She would deny it to anyone who asked, but Sibyl was her friend, someone she could trust her life with. She didn't want to loose her just like everyone else.

Dream looked away, giving the exrocist all the answer she needed. Johanna dropped the pages, which would take her too long to understand at all. "Fuck," she groaned, "Sibyl, what did you do?"

------------

Sibyl had severed her fate from his. It fit right in with all other failures of relationships he has had. This one had the most promise, but had lasted the shortest. Dream would teuely never love again. Still Sibyl payed a price because of his actions. If he couldn't pay part of it, he would at least want to know what it was.

Destiny may have had it written in his book, but he wouldn't share it with anyone, nor even his brother unless it said he would. There was a much more for sure way to learn what occurs in fate. To talk to the Fates themselves.

"I, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, summon the fates," he called to the universe. He had gathered his offerings, prepared to pay the price. "The three who are one, the one who is three." Something was different, there wasn't the same reaction of the world around him to the called of The Three.

"I'm gonna stop you there," some called from behind him, "It's one who is one now."

Dream turned around not believing his ears. There stood Sibyl, though not the same as before. Her arms were bare, of both his name and her tattoos. Her clothes shifted colors like an aurora boreal is, her hair floating in a breeze that was not there. Her eyes....

-----------

Sibyl stood in the circle of her own making. Chalk of frowned calf bones, spores from a mushroom grown on the corpse of a deer, and the blood spilled from the womb. Those were just in the outline, Sibyl was not proud to tell what took her to gather everything for the spell. She held her bleeding arm out before her, calling to the universe. "The three who are one, the one who is three, the Hecate."

The wind and rain which had gradually grown around her was all but silent in that moment. "We haven't been summoned by one such as you in a long while, child," a voice beyond years croaked.

Sibyl turned around to find three woman standing before her. She was quick to fall to her knee, stoll holding the offering of her own blood to them. "Please I ask of you, sperate my fare from his," she pleaded, "I do not wish to be bound to someone who can't trust me with the most simplest of things."

"Child, raise your head," a soft voice called out to her. Sibyl hesitantly looked up.

"Oh lovely," the maiden cooed, "We gave you a hard fate, that would come with many reward of you shall over come it."

"We over you this advice for what you have given," the crone continued, "Have hope."

Sibyl gribded her teeth. She was sick and tired of supernatural beings thinking less of her. "I didn't ask for advice," she hissed, "I gave you a sacrafice, just get this name off of me."

The mother reached out and stroked Sibyl's cheek. "You know better than to seek tk your elder than that, your auntie taught you better."

The maiden replaced the mother, her had on the young witch's cheek. "Your blood may be special, but no amount of it will be the price to do what you want."

Sibyl let out a deep breath. "I will pay whatever price," she confessed.

"Your soul," all three said at once. The crone stepped away from the girl. "You're human soul." The wind started to pick up once again.

"It binds you to this world," the maiden said.

"It binds you to the ones you love," the mother.

"To unbind you, we must take it," the croan.

The wind had became much worse than it had before, picking up dirt and howling in the night.

"We three will become one, and you will become we," the unified voice of three bellowed over the wind. "All magic come with a price. You know that well. A price for a price, only for something great. What it will be up to you, and not me."

------

Her eyes held no color, just white. Though she was looking at him, she wasn't seeing him. "Do you need to ask?" she said sarcastically, "As you can clearly see what price I payed." Sibyl gave up her sight to become the physical embodiment of fate, which she did to sever herself from him. He wonders of that was the plan all along. Him fated to be alone, for ever.

#Sandman #sandman x reader #sandman x oc #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x y/n #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x original character

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kravisaweeb · 1 year

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okay ive just been thinking about bkdk wayy too much recently (when am i not, though, honestly?) and i just Have to dump my thoughts somewhere. these are my own personal opinions and if you don't agree 100% (or at all) that's perfectly fine!

it's kinda Long and Rambly so beware lmao

so ive been reading more bkdk meta (of course) and like, i have so many conflicting feelings cause. y'all, no amount of evidence and logic and reasoning and thematic and narrative parallels and development and arc conclusions and build-up and Everything will make a weekly shonen jump main title gay. that's My opinion as a terribly bitter cynic, and it is in no way meant to rain on other people's parades (if you think they will be canon, you are more optimistic than i and are making the world a sweeter place). I've just been burnt too many times, i don't really expect anything from mainstream media At All—only indie content gets my unfiltered hype and hopes—and whenever things do shake up differently from what i thought, it's a nice surprise! cause the alternative is, This Mountain of Evidence and Development... and then oops get hit with the straightification beam on the last second.

"but it would be so unsatisfying! and completely out of nowhere! and just plain out of character! and ignore so much development! and it wouldn't make any sense at all with what has been established in the story!" Yeah. i know! im as angry and annoyed and disappointed about it as anyone. and yet, so many fucking times, that's how it goes. it would be terrible, and weird, and completely against everything that's been set up, and yet it would happen anyway. this is true even for things that are not shipping-related—ask game of thrones how it ended. cause executives are Executives everywhere, including the "west", which is """"supposedly"""" more liberal (lol, lmao). people with money that make all the decisions force creatives to comply, or fight with tooth and nail and blood and sweat and tears into allowing them to make the story they DO want to make. so it's really hard for me to see it in any other light, when i have seen it happen so many times before.

and yet.

And Yet. i cant help but think, but wonder—what is it all for then, anyway??

i can honestly say, taking off my shipping goggles for a moment, bkdks platonic relationship has ended. it really ended two years ago, culminating when bkg took a bullet for him, and then was cemented when he apologised, you know, to trample down any doubts. there we go, narrative concluded! from rival to best friend. all loose threads tied in terms of their relationship. if that's how it had ended, how it had stagnated, remained in stasis, with this New Dynamic the new canon going into the final battle then show over. yeah. typical shonen bestie stuff. it would have ended and i would have gone "oh they were in LOVE fr" forever, but knowing that people who were like "this is what besties are like! this is what siblings are like!" also had as much of a claim to their interpretation as mine (even if i didn't personally agree w it lmao)

BUT IT DIDN'T STOP THERE and i have to ask why???? WHY is it more central i Don't Get It. i dont understand? i really dont get it cause.... why? bkg is important to deku, yes. other people are also important to deku (all might, his mom, his other friends, civilians, any lost pet he has to kill himself over cause he is a Good Caring Shonen Protag). that has been established for forever. so i don't rly understand the necessity to further highlight that One part of his personality (caring about kacchan) to motivate him into fighting the Big Bad Villain, when 1. he would've fought the villain anyway cause that's what heroes do, and 2. it could have been a generic "you hurt my friends!!" and like lump in more people there, like in the first war arc where several people got hurt (aizawa, gran torino, etc).

but No! you hurt that guy. that guy, that while he was dying, the villain, textually, explicitly says, "i am hurting you because it will make deku angry and sad, since you are his most important person" (that's almost a fucking quote im basically QUOTING here). and it's like, what? lmao wait. what?? why???

what is it building up towards?? i dont get it. it's not going to build up to the apology/their relationship being mended (what we thought would be the climax of the whole thing), cause that already happened. there's no "oh my god if kacchan dies he'll never get to say sorry!" stakes, or "oh my god if deku fails he'll never be able to be friends with kacchan again!" stakes, cause like, that already did happen though. i mean i know obviously in real life, you do things for people just for their sake, not because of what it will mean for your narrative arc. but this is a made up story and thus needs storytelling reasons for shit to happen. so what is the reason for deku needing to be pushed, needing to be backed into a corner, over kacchan dying? why did bakugo have to die (had to get FRIDGED, it's a trope and everything), if not so that his death would fuel dekus rage (which we were told explicitly was the reason why)? why, out of everyone on the battlefield, out of everyone in the CAST, did it have to be bakugo, the one to make deku Lose It?

i mean we know why, but still. what? is it really, textually, canonically That?

i just don't get it. and secretly, deep deep inside, i really hope we get to find out soon

#bkdk #dkbk #bkdk meta #idk how to tag this lol #it's just me rambling!! cause i have so many FEELINGS

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moodymisty · 2 years

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Okay but imagine Wrecker— SUBMISSIVE Wrecker for that matter. Like he’s all tied up ‘n bound (even though he could most definitely break it) and like ends up doing cause he can’t take it anymore?? 🤭 OOP and a punishment for it idk!!! I love subby big guys 🫦

You have the right idea, I like you. Feeding my Wrecker era oh yeah baby he can wreck my pu- -shot dead-

Relationships: Wrecker/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Very soft femdom, Light Dom/Sub dynamics, Teasing, Light bondage

Wrecker’s a big ol' softie. You’ve never been so much as scratched by him, and he always apologizes if he thinks he might’ve. Even if he can be more than intimidating to people, he never is to you.

And even if he is always sweet as sugar, he’s not exactly someone you can just push around. At least physically; A few tears might do it, but that’s a dirty trick you don't use. At least not often.

So it always just kind of ended the same way; Wrecker would take the lead and throw you over his bunk or your bed, and you’d have no complaints. You don't know how you possibly could've, when he's as wonderful as he is.

But there was a spark in you when you'd done something one time after he rushed into your home; You didn’t ask or plead with him, just pushed on his chest in an attempt to get him to sit on your couch, and he did. His face was surprised, but there was no mistaking even by you that he’d liked it.

Ever since you'd known that Wrecker secretly liked when you were a little firecracker; And while you'd always had spunk, you'd never done anything beyond teasing him a little.

Normally when he returns from a long mission Wrecker is eager to get his hands on you in any way possible, and more often then not you find yourself being hauled off somewhere to be made a wonderful mess of.

This time however, you'd quickly told him you had something else in mind before he had a chance to do so. He had a disappointed look, though couldn't deny he was curious what you had in mind. He lets you lead him to your bedroom and slowly watches you take off your clothes only to not be allowed to even touch you once, even after he'd thrown his armor to the side.

When you come closer only in your underwear he once again attempts to grab you, only to have his hand slapped away. He groans, head sinking in his shoulders.

"Come onnnn!" It's cute the way he's upset he can't love on you, until you usher him up onto the bed.

"I won't have you messing this up. Give me your hands." He likes the confident look on your face, and after a moment's hesitation, hands over his wrists. He hadn't noticed the thin rope on your nightstand until you grab it, pushing his wrists up and against your headboard to tie them together above his head. He likes the way your chest gets so close to your face, and groans when you lean away.

"Don't break it, ok?"

The rope is tight; He could more than easily break it, but you didn't want him to, so he'd be good for the time being.

It's not like it'll be easy for him however, watching the way you tear off the bottom half of his blacks with your body on full display for him. He watches you straddle him at the hips, slowly taking off your bra and throw it to the side out of view. It's a sight straight out of one of his dreams, and he noticeably jolts at the feeling of your clothed groin rubbing against his cock.

Of course you decide to do this to him now, when he's pent up after weeks stuck in the Marauder.

"Hey..." You warn him as he pulls against the flimsy rope, testing it. It has no hope of really stopping him so it's more theoretical than anything, but Wrecker's always eager to please you. He watches you awkwardly fumble about to remove your underwear, throwing them behind you and lowing your now bare cunt against his cock. He feels how hot and wet you are, watching your bottom lip get trapped between your teeth. He loves the way you make his cock so slick, grinding against him.

Wrecker's not going to be quiet about your torture however, groaning as your hand wraps around his cock.

"Come on gorgeous, you're killin' me here..." His body is hot and writhing underneath you, while you slowly lower yourself onto him. He's groaning, watching as you torment him. He hadn't really ever thought of doing something like this before and while he hates it, he loves hating it. You look so pretty on top of him, telling him what to do.

"Well, then be a good boy and maybe I'll reconsider." He mumbles something, and it's undecipherable other than your name. The bed creaks as your bounce on him, hands pressing on his stomach to support yourself. His cock has always managed to so perfectly fill you, and while you have to be a bit careful because of his size, it also feels absolutely amazing. You barely help the way your hips twitch as you grind against him, feeling that tightness in your lower stomach building fast.

Fuck, you feel so good," You speak between hot breaths, feeling the warmth of your face travel your entire body. He looks so cute like this, clearly biting the inside of his cheek while watching you on top of him.

"You're such a good boy, Wrecker." He'll get you back for this one day, for the way you torture him so nice being so cruel and sweet. He groans, like a defeated whine. He watches the way you grind yourself against him, teasing your clit just enough to finally reach that peak.

He can fell the moment you cum tightening around him and letting out those sweet noises he always loves to hear.

It's then that he can't take anymore, tugging and tearing his wrists free with little to no effort. You barely have time to yelp at the loud noise before his hands are on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock the way he's wanted the entire time. You wanted the same, but the want to tease him had been so much higher.

"Wrecker!" You yell his name but it's considerably less than scolding, surprised and quickly grabbing onto his arms as he moves you on and off his cock. His fingers are pressed tight against your skin as he thrusts up into you, desperately seeking that release as fast as possible now that he wasn't bound.

You can feel the way his cock twitches inside of you as he suddenly fills you, hands denting your skin. The moan he lets out is almost hilariously loud, just like him, loving the way he feels your much smaller hands around his arms.

After he opens his eyes and sees you looking with a pouting, angry face he shrinks a little before your eyes drift away and to behind him, and your face changes to surprise.

He hadn't just broken the rope you realize; A good part of your headboard is now noticeably cracked having given way under Wrecker's considerable strength.

Normally the phase is 'notch in your bedpost', not giant crack.

Wrecker follows your gaze and realizes he broke it, visibly shrinking and probably knowing as well as you that a little adhesive wasn't going to fix the damage he'd done.

"Heh, uh... Sorry." Wrecker seems a little torn up about breaking something of yours, not that you could've cared less. You could just consider it an excuse to get a new one.

"I'll buy a new one. Besides, I think it was worth it." He gets bashful, giving a small smile and rubbing the back of his head.

#not my best work but here <3 #mywriting #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #Wrecker/Reader

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oswednesday · 8 months

Text

waa @proceduralbob tagged me! thank youu

name: wednesday

pronouns: they/them

where do you call home?: without the right to roam, in a planet with boards and states and nationalities, this is kind of a faulty concept, people ask this sort of thing to judge your worth, sometimes i poke fun at people for like what state or city they live in but know its kind of in a post-ironic or whatever sort of way, i live online! but i suppose the geographical answer is the usa equating that with home feels gross, home feels personal and all encompassing, doesnt it?

favorite animal: im like, rabbit themed, so there's that of course i love so many animals i feel like i have a fave per genre of animals, im really into jellyfish , my fave owl is great horned, i also love flamingos and giraffes and bats and cockatoos

cereal of choice: i only eat cereal as intended like two months out of the entire year max, i like applejacks (with banana slices) and cocoa bunnies from the annie's brand (with strawberries) (cereal feels really naked without fruit on it!)

visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner: im pretty sure this is something that gets taught in schools in conservative states cause no one gives a fuck whether its junk science or not, i Prefer someone to show me how, then walk me through it and then ill do it a bunch with assistance until i get it, but thats often so taxing to be vulnerable with someone else and not everyone has the patience for me so maybe like visual/kinesthetic/auditory in that order maybe? maybe thats just self fanfiction

first pet: fish! like the first animal i was aware of like, the concept of a pet like we have a pet in the house were two box turtles but those were like, my parents pets, they did not take good care of them! the first pet i consciously was like i want to keep and take care of them were fishes

favorite scent: (oops i forgot to remove the previous answer and fill this in)i have a lot of scents i like but rn i think murphy's wood oil soap!

do you believe in astrology: i think there are three "categories" of astrology

there is the math; the history and the culture and the arts and how much it like is apart of human history like that's real and inseparable from understanding the world around us you cant be like well thats astronomy because its also people folk lore and mythology of their cultures and belief systems and that kind of math was not separate from each other, it was used and is used as aid to make complicated numbers more digestible, as a way to memorize and to pass along oral traditions, its also a form of a people's wealth, so thats real yes

then there's social/economics/psychology of it like time periods coincide with ups and downs of wealth in a place like historically and its also like how the seasons impact people, what food is available, what sicknesses are more easily transmittable during certain seasons, which impacts somewhat the way we interact with the world as early age roles are set in by family, society, so on, thats real

then there's my cringe fetus in the womb is an aries i can feel the energies, that shits fake, but that feeds back into like point two and this point isnt any different than the other awful ways parents can interact with their children about 'metaphysical' matters

so i suppose yes i do, like, in a social science and a traditional art sort of way

how many playlists do you have on your music service of choice: i have a lot i like to make playlists a lot, maybe ill share them with the internet more often

sharpies or highlighters: highlighters are cute! sharpies have more use though, highlighters might win simply for the cute factor

song that makes you cry: once the pokemon 2 movie starts its ON <-the tears, from the ost for some reason

song that makes you happy: i listen to a lot of vashti bunyan and haruomi hosono for that feeling, oh maybe im not answering these correctly, i know nobodies got me like still alive (portal 2007)

and finally, do you write/draw/create: i do all kinds of gay stuff

#wednesdaycore #anyone can do this! if you do tag me back so i can seee

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bestocship · 1 year

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Neo and Emil (@beautytopia)

emil met neo back in highschool. they started out as friends who shared similar interests (namely music), but after emil was disowned by his family, he started living with neo. while living together, neo’s feelings for emil took centerfold, and one night while emil was in tears over the overwhelming experiences he’s endured in a short span of time, neo leaned in and kissed him. a kiss neo would regret. a kiss emil would always remember. their relationship started there.

despite their very rough start, neo and emil stuck to each others sides. they depended on each other greatly, one couldn’t go long without the other, and from an outsiders perspective that was fine. even in each others perspective they thought that was fine. why wouldn’t i want to be with my partner all the time? i should have them by my side constantly, right? i’m nothing without them and they’re nothing without me.

as emil and neo age things got much worse. in light of mybeauty!’s (mybeauty is their band) scandal. their bandmates, who were their closest friends, left one by one. leaving neo and emil with each other, only each other. as emil continued pushing away people more than ever, neo’s guilt involving emil (specifically what caused them to date in the first place) intensifies, neither of them are happy with their codependency.

one night they realize they just can’t keep going on like this. they’re going to destroy each other if they stay together. so they decide to separate for good. years pass and they both have paired up with different people, and even though emil and neo definitely had a rocky past with each other, they continue to be friends who only ever wished for the best.

flop era boyfriends ftw

Dean Davis and Philomena Bishop (@aerosolar)

They are divorced <3 They are both in their 50's, have been married for around 20-30ish years, and their relationship just slowly declined due to Dean's negligence and him being just...Not a good husband or person. Mena wanted a divorce, Dean refused to sign any papers because he was in denial, and then before it could progress any further Dean got isekai'd into Minecraft. No, that's not a joke.

While in Minecraft he met many new people from other universes who were also trapped in here with him, and he's slowly began to learn to be a better person and care about other people. This is helped slightly by the fact that he ate a brain parasite that made him part of a hivemind with one of the other people in the group (long story) and in doing so that person unintentionally influenced him. Now he's nicer and also questioning his entire identity (both his sense of self and also Oops he might be bi and nonbinary now ruh roh)

Now that he's becoming a better person, he wants nothing more to get back home and back to his wife and win her back. But whether or not he'd actually be able to do that is a whole other story <3

They are the doomed relationship of all time. They love each other but not the right way, not enough. She loves him more than she loves herself but when she finally learns to love herself that draws away the love she had for him. He loved her like a prized possession and when he finally learns to love her like a person he's already lost her. They are divorced they are married they are in love they hate each other they will never get back together they will never be able to be apart from each other. Also they're both bisexual and both found this out after the divorce.

Neo/Emil art by @/doiduh on instagram

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pancake-breakfast · 10 months

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Time to finish of Volume 5. Let's see if we can't get some more crazies on the playing board.

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 5, Chapters 5-6 below.

Chapter 5: Death Deal

Everyone's screaming.... Blood is everywhere.... Picking up right where we left off, I see....

Holy fuck, was running over his face with the bike necessary, Legato??? Geez, man.

Creechur Vash is displeased.

CREECHUR VASH IS DISPLEASED!!!

...I'm sorry, but Legato feeling legitimately ill and being moved to tears of sadness that Midvalley would turn a gun on him and "betray Master Knives" is freaking hilarious and I absolutely LOL'ed. Gods, this man is such a mess.

I do feel bad for Midvalley, though. I feel like, in another life, on another world, maybe he could have just played beautiful music.

Dude is just staring and Wolfwood and crying. I'm telling ya, he's SUPER jealous. He wishes Knives trusted him as much as Knives is trusting Wolfwood right now, which is funny 'cause it's Wolfwood.

This look, though.... Find you a man who stares down your enemies the way Wolfwood stares down Legato. Even though he might not actually be able to see very well right now.

Got rid of them...? As in... Vash and Meryl? Vash and... Wolf... wood?? What did Zazie do?

Butterflies?

Ohhhhhhhhhh

Wait, I never *did* figure out why they were trying to get rid of Zazie. Glad Zazie's having fun with bodies, though.

It was because they didn't want Zazie to report back to Legato, huh?

Is... Gauntlet resisting Legato??

YES HE IS!!! GOOD FOR HIM!!!

Meanwhile, Creechur Vash is just waiting for all of this to die down, I guess?

Ohhhhh. Yeah, keeping Crechur Vash contained is gonna be a task for anyone.

Gotta have a good ol' Mexican Standoff.

Ahhh, I know there's so much going on here and it's all bad, but he really is kinda cute like this.

MERYL TO THE RESCUE!!!

Gods, she's screaming, she's crying, she's severely outgunned and/or outmatched by every player on the field.... She may be small, but her power is adequate.

AND SHE AIMS RIGHT FOR LEGATO!!! GET 'IM, GIRL!!!

It's enough for Gauntlet to pull the trigger on his gun....

...aaaand all hell breaks loose.

I like how even though Zazie's new form is more feminine, it's still like, "What is gender? I don't care. My gender is worms."

Legato appears to still be alive. Human skulls are more durable than we give them credit for.

Ohhhh, Stampede referenced this little speech of Legato's.

WTH happened to his face? Like, I know he just got shot, but I'm having trouble figuring out how he went from this...

...to this....

...in the space of a panel.

Ah, that's gotta be Midvalley's corpse. Meryl's right to scream. There's no coming back from seeing that.

I like the little stringy lines implying Legato's power.

Of course that bastard would be like, "Oh, you created a friend? Gotta make sure you pay for that by your friend's hand." He's a very sick fuck.

Creechur Vash is still displeased.

The only one here who hasn't quite seen this yet is Meryl, and she's already freaking out. Even Legato looks terrified. Glad his face is back to normal, though.

Ohhhhh, shit. The Nail is here.

Chapter 6: Let Us Walk The Path To Redemption

Ohhh, Vashie, babygirl....

Legato's little monster-puppet handler can feel pain??

Oop, something going on here is bringing Vash back out of creechur mode.

She has a point. People with a strong enough death wish can cause quite a mess seeking their own destruction.

Nevermind, Vash has turned into a lightning bug with too many wings.

Ohhhh, baby Vash....

I do love the use of white space here, though. This happens a lot when we fall into Vash's memories, and it really emphasizes his loneliness.

That's too many bullets. The image of bullets falling like tears....

Aaaand Legato is ruining the moment with his madness. Gods, this wet cat is gonna punish himself even harder now because of all this, and other people might actually have to watch that.

I like how they have yet to actually show her face.

Goshdarn, someone wrap Vash in a weighted blanket and feed him something nice and give him all the hugs.

YOU CAN DO IT, VASH!!!

Eyyyyy, body horror....

I love that he's focusing on the kindness of those in the past to pull himself through. He has no idea what the future holds... for himself, for mankind, for the companions who, after this, might not want anything to do with him ever again. But he's doing what he can to focus on people's kindness....

And... he's protecting Gauntlet, isn't he? Of course he is. Gauntlet, who's so tired from everything that's happened tonight, he probably wants to die. He was expecting to die. He lost his only friend by his own hand because of Legato. And now the man he came here to kill is protecting him.

OUT OF BULLETS, YA BASTARD!!! (The sound effect here is "ga-chi, ga-chi, ga-chi" over and over again. Def not a gun firing sound.)

Awww, man! Creepy weird guy carrying around Legato has a knife arm.... Whyyyyyy.

Look at his stupid face, though. He's enjoying this.

Ok, that's too many teeth. Please return some to wherever you got them from.

Did... Airship Lady shoot him through the head?

Yeah, she did.

Hahahahaha, the first time we see her fully revealed, and she's just being a baby after falling in the sand.

LOL, Meryl....

You know what? Legato deserves to be talked down to like this. He really, really does.

"Secret Number 13!" But that doesn't add up. Literally. In chapter 5 of the last volume, Wolfwood said they only had three left: Zazie, Midvalley, and Hoppered. They'd only been through six in the previous chapters, and adding Wolfwood to that mix only makes 10. Unless he's counting Legato and Knives, but in the last volume didn't think they wouldn't actually come out to fight??? Or was trying to mislead Vash on their numbers, since he said that one out loud but this one's in his head??? Very confused. Fix your math, Nightow.

Ah, that's... that's a lot of nails....

"You've really been losing it lately." You know it's bad when even the other bad guys are like, "Yyyyyeeeeaaaahhh, sorry about our buddy over here. He's... he's a little crazy. We're just gonna take him home so he doesn't do anything else stupid today. We'll resume tormenting you later."

Mannnn, if Bluesummers could hear Knives say this right now, he'd start crying all over again for a completely different reason...

I'm honestly not sure what happened in this explosion here.

Even Legato's little pet monster-thing is looking not so good. One's spine really should stay inside their body.

Looks like Vash is getting ahold of himself ok over there.

Meryl is soooo brave here. She's terrified to the point of tears, but she grits her teeth and readies herself.

Vash looks spent.

Nothing gets Vash's attention quite like someone in dire need.

Dude. Gauntlet. Why you gotta be like that to Vash!? You know and you're still like, "Eh, I even know it's wrong of me to do so, but I'm smiling about it."

And yet Vash STILL holds his hand so Gauntlet doesn't have to die alone.

Wolfwood and Meryl running to Vash's side now that it's safe. Meryl immediately inquiring after Vash's health. <3 <3 <3

BRB, finding a way to give hugs to a fictional character.

Hahahahaha, Milly. She's sooooo enthusiastic. I love her.

Is that... Zazie in the crutches??

LOL, yeah. But how did Zazie get ahold of a black wig? What a weirdo.

Heh. In spite of everything, here's Vash dragging Wolfwood to a makeshift funeral for the makeshift graves for two people who adamantly tried to kill them.

...No comment. I'm just gonna put this here. Yeah.

LOL, Vash is calling Wolfwood on his bullshit again.

This panel is a good panel. I'm going to put it here, too.

"You break it, you fix it." The path to redemption, indeed. Onward with the manual labor!