Tumgik
#but anyway there are people who don't do that so like it's not hard to at least acknowledge that chunk of fandom
pomefioredove · 3 days
Note
Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2
⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn
...
Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.
That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.
A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?
Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.
Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.
You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.
"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"
"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.
He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.
But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.
He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.
His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?
Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.
“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”
“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.
"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.
You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”
He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?
His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.
“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"
"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."
“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"
You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"
"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."
"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.
"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."
You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.
"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."
"Never!"
He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."
You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.
"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.
"Yes!"
"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"
"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"
His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.
"Sergeant, please!"
"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."
He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.
Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.
"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"
"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.
"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.
You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.
You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.
"Sergeant?"
"Mm?"
"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.
"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.
That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.
You sit up. "Kyle?"
His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"
"Were you serious?"
"I was."
"Even about coming over again?"
"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.
You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"
"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."
"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."
He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.
"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"
Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.
"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.
As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.
This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.
He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.
...
part 1 / [part 2]
more Gaz / masterlist tag
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Nicknames/petnames op characters like to call you PART TWO
Also suggestive warning for Ace, Marco, Izou
I don't care if law's is ooc btw he deserves to be sickly cute sometimes and yk we kinda saw how he can be when he loves something with that whole sora thing in wano so yeah I'm saying he can be affectionate as a treat.
Anyways here's like all the faves who are not strawhats:
Ace
Baby, sweetheart, pretty thing. Always says them in either the most flirty tone imaginable or the softest. Also he's like flirting with you 24/7 it's so bad but he jist can't turn it off around you like he's so down bad. 100% says heinous filthy shit but tacks on a cute nickname at the end to try and make it sound less intense. It does not work.
OBSESSED with you calling him love or my man and finds it ridiculously attractive. The first time it happened he set his bed on fire by accident and you both got lectured by pops :(. But seriously he just loves any and all verbal affirmation so naturally he adores nicknames. Doesn't get shy at all though, if anything reciprocating his chaotic behaviour makes it 10x worse.
Marco
Love/my love. Sweet and simple and he likes how clear it is to other people. He uses it a ridiculous amount though to be honest like you hear it more than your own name, it's to the point where if he says your name people on the ship don't know who he's talking about😭. Oh and he uses baby when he wants to tease you, like he drops his voice real low, leans really close into your space and speaks right next to your ear. Bit of a bastard tbh.
He blushes easily but doesn't shy away, in fact being called a nickname in return really makes him feel confident and puts him in the mood for affection. Though sometimes the nicknames make him feel...too affectionate. One time you called him pretty bird as a joke and he just sorta sat there, face getting gradually redder until you leaned towards him out of concern, at which point he promptly yanked you onto his lap and started what was one of your most intense make outs to date. Yk, casual things.
Thatch
Cutie, sweet thing, pretty thing. So so gentle with you and it reflects in how he speaks to you as well, even if he's upset or angry he still calls you the sweetest things because you're so precious to him. Though he's also a menace, if he finds out you like a specific petname then he starts discretely whispering it in your ear whenever he passes you to wind you up. Literally he doesn't care if you're having a serious conversation, he'll just slide in behind you and drop his voice to sound like a nice gravelly tone and purposefully make sure to exhale on the back of your ear to make you shiver.
Oh but he can't handle if you do it back, no this man folds like a lawn chair the second you start calling him anything other than his name.
Izou
Darling, dear, lovely, blossom. So casually smooth its unbelievable, also he starts calling you them before you get together. Like after a certain point of friendship and flirting, he just starts doing and saying the most romantic shit(Definitely thinks you're together before you actually are) and the crew are very confused and you're very confused but as if you're gonna complain yk.
This man gets so flustered when you use nicknames with him because it's not behaviour he's used to. Obviously he's been a pirate for a long time but he's actually very reserved and rarely dates so having someone who genuinely cares about him calling something sweet makes him blush so hard and you use that to your fully advantage. He gets revenge later though don't worry.
Law
Love, lovely, pretty, honey, every flowery pet name you can think of. He's so soft with you. He can't help how sickly affectionate he feels around you and it results in him just calling you all sorts of sweet words. He won't do it in public if he thinks you'll be put in danger or if he doesn't feel comfortable but like in front of the crew and strawhats and stuff he doesn't give a fuck. He'll just come up behind you while you're in the middle of a conversation, hand sliding down your lower back, and say sumthin like "are you okay my love?"
Blushes to high heaven if you call him something cute back, he just melts like butter. If he's in a bad mood or like in an argument or something you only have to come up and say hi love and he's all :///))
Kidd
Babe to the public. My love, gorgeous, pretty baby when you're alone. It's not really that he doesn't want to call you those things in public, he just doesn't want enemies to understand how important you are to him but also he doesn't want to keep your relationship a secret because he's obsessed with you and wants to brag about being yours.
Makes him really cocky if you use petnames with him. Like he'll flush but get so overconfident the second you say love or baby or anything of the sort. He doesn't care where you are either, he's just hauling you into his space immediately so he kiss the fuck out of you.
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mentally-a-slut · 3 days
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Staring Problem (Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader)
Rating: M (a little spicy, nothing too bad)
Summary: An innocent staring problem evolves into something out of your most romantic fantasies.
Note: Okay, so I just whipped this up to show y'all what my writing would look like, it's really last minute and unedited so don't expect too much, but I hope you like it! It's a little messy because I just kinda started writing with no real idea, but please leave feedback! Also, if enough people want it, I am open to doing a smutty part two :) enjoy!
You hadn't thought you were being obvious with your staring, but were very quickly proved wrong when Mary-Beth slid up next to you, giggling. "Enjoyin' the show?"
You spluttered and blushed at the young woman's implication, lightly shoving her. "I'm not staring!"
She giggled again and gave you a look. "I don't blame you, I do it all the time. Nothing better to do than watch the men chop wood, especially if I'm supposed to be doing chores."
"Mary-Beth! Where is that girl?"
Mary-Beth gasped. "Oops! Gotta go!"
She scuttled off back to her table, frantically fiddling with the needle and thread to make it look like she was sewing. You sighed as you tore your gaze from her, eyes settling back on the man in front of you.
Of course, you were staring. Pretty damn hard, too. But hey, when Arthur Morgan is swinging an axe in the blazing sun, sleeves bunched up around his elbows, you just have to stare.
You knew you should at least be more subtle about it, instead of standing there uselessly leaning on a wagon, but whenever your eyes snagged on him, it was almost impossible to tear them away.
You'd lost all shame anyway, ever since he sort of confronted you about your crush. It had been an awkward conversation, one filled with stuttering and apologies. He hadn't expressed any discomfort, though, and simply acknowledged the fact that you liked to stare. He didn't outright reject you, but you knew better than to read into things. And even if he wasn't interested, who were you to deny yourself a show if he didn't mind giving one?
You only tore your gaze away when you heard Miss Grimshaw turning the corner, and you hurriedly tried to look busy. It usually worked, and you were back to staring as soon as she was out of sight.
You inwardly sighed when he sent the axe splitting through the last log. Show's over.
Even as he leaned the axe against the stump and turned to leave, you couldn't avert your gaze. The light was hitting him just right, golden rays bathing his tanned skin and making him look like an angel. Your face burned when he turned and met your gaze, and he simply tipped his hat with a smile. Sometimes you wished he would straight up say something about it instead of letting you ogle him. The heat that rushed to your face every time you were caught was stifling.
You had to resist the urge to follow him and see what he was getting up to next, instead settling on joining Mary-Beth. She looked up at you with a teasing smirk when you sat down, glancing behind you at the man who held your attention. "Show's over, huh?"
You rolled your eyes, sighing. "...Yeah."
She burst into giggled at your confession, dainty fingers going up to cover her mouth. "What's so funny?"
You started at his voice, the closeness of it surprising you. You turned to look at him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You could've sworn there was a knowing smirk on his lips, but you chalked it up to the sun in your eyes. Even though you were facing away from the sun.
"Nothing!" you said too quickly.
"We was just talking about how she was staring at you chopping that wood."
You whipped your stare around to Mary-Beth. She just giggled and shrugged, acting innocent. "I- I wasn't-"
"S'alright, I know you were."
His words only made you want to shrink into yourself, never to see the light of day again. Mary-Beth took her leave, teasingly waving goodbye. She had just left you alone, with Arthur, a blushing mess.
"I don't- you-"
You all but yelped when he sat next to you on the log bench, close enough for your legs to brush. "If I didn't like it, I wouldn't let you do it."
"I didn't mean to stare!"
He chuckled, a low noise that traveled through your body and left goosebumps in its wake. "Yeah, you did."
You tried to come up with a valid explanation that wasn't 'I think you're really hot,' but came up short. "I'm sorry, I-"
"No need. I think it's cute, your little staring problem."
You didn't think you could blush anymore, but there he went, making you lightheaded with his words. "You... me, cute?"
His eyes met yours, and you had to stop yourself from swooning. His eyes were so blue, like shining crystals in the sunlight. "Yes, you. I thought it was obvious."
"What was obvious?"
He rolled his eyes affectionately, calloused hand brushing against yours. "That I'm sweet on you."
All coherent thought disappeared from your brain at that moment. "Huh?"
Your skin tingled as his hand grasped yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours. "I like you, sweetheart."
"Is this a joke?"
He chuckled. "No. I know I didn't really go about it right before, but what I meant to say was that I feel the same. It just... didn't come out right."
Your whole body was on fire, overwhelmed at the feeling of him so close to you. "So... you've liked me back, this whole time?"
"Mhm."
"Oh. That's... good."
"Just good?"
Your eyes found his, shining with emotion. "You know what I mean. I just can't believe..."
He stared at you, eyes shining with what must have been admiration. With his hand still holding yours, he stood, tugging you with him. "C'mere."
You stumbled after him, too awestruck to think. He led you to the spot you liked to stare at him from, the wagon obscuring the two of you from the rest of camp. Your back was to the wagon, his frame towering over you and he stood in front of you. He was close, close enough for you to lean forward and be chest to chest.
"When you stand here all clueless, drooling over me like nobody's watching," the hand that wasn't holding yours came up to rest against your cheek, "I have to force myself to keep working and not march over to you and kiss you til you can't breath."
You let out a strangled sound, breath hitching as he leaned closer. You were now trapped against the wagon, his body resting against yours. It was the best trap you'd ever been caught in.
"And when you look at me with those big, lovestruck eyes, I just wanna grab onto you and never let go."
A sigh that sounded more like a whine escaped your lips, knees threatening to give out beneath you. "Keep going."
He chuckled at your words, brushing his lips so, so close to yours.
"When you're concentrating on something, and you make those cute little noises, all I can think about is how I wanna bend you over and see what pretty little sounds I can get out of you."
"Holy shit," you whispered, eyes fluttering as his lips barely brushed against yours.
With a shaky sigh, you grabbed his collar and pulled him toward you, crashing your lips together. He let go of your hand, gripping your waist and holding you close. His lips were warm against yours, gently molding against yours. You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his short strands. An involuntary whine slipped from your lips, and it was swallowed by his increasingly desperate kiss. His hand slowly moved to your back, pressing you closer.
When his tongue brushed against your lip, you gasped, and he hummed against you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You recovered quickly, meeting his tongue with yours with matching desperation. Your fingers closed in his hair, tugging lightly. He groaned softly, and the sound traveled straight to your core.
When he pulled back for air, he kept his face close to yours, blue eyes darkened as he looked down at you. "You're so pretty like this, all whiny and desperate."
His praise elicited another whine from your lips and you pulled him back against your lips. This time he kept pulling away from you in between kisses, chuckling as you chased after him. He mumbled soft words against your lips, each one making you want him more and more.
"Pretty girl."
"So good for me."
"So needy."
You whined in frustration and kissed him roughly, hands running over his body. When his hands ran over your ass and gripped your thighs tightly, you jumped up and he pressed you up against the wagon. The angle was torture, your core level with his, and the heat of your arousal was overwhelming. Your hips struggled to meet his, seeking the friction you craved, but Arthur just chuckled against your lips and held you still. "Not yet, darlin'."
You would have been embarrassed by the whine you let out if you weren't clouded with lust. You continued to wriggle against his grip, whining as he tortured you with slow, passionate kisses.
"Arthur!"
He pulled back with a groan when someone called his name, his forehead resting against yours. "Yeah?"
"Got a job for you!"
He sighed. "Be right there!"
You sighed and let your head fall against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby."
You hid your face in his neck, trying to hide the blush his words caused. "S'okay."
He gently set you down, hands settling on your waist. He lifted your face to his, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with his darkened eyes that held a promise for things to come.
"We'll finish this later."
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Head up this ask is kinda weird.
So do you think people wear perfume in omegaverse AUs 😀? Because the fact that everyone already has scents, perfume has to kind if clash with it right? Maybe some people use light perfumes to enhance their scents, and then those "Alpha Male" (omg that just gets a whole other meaning) podcast bros call it catfishing.
Would perfume even exist in the first place? I don't really see a purpose for perfume if everyone already has a scent... but bro imagine Yuu (who isn't from an a/b/o world and is getting really confused as to what the fuck an omega is and cringes every time of the guys calls themselves an alpha. Meanwhile everyone else is trying to figure out why this weirdo doesn't even have the slightest sent. Especially jade becuase I'm on that JadeYuu shit rn) that wears perfume or cologne trying to get more. And when they can't find any at Sam's they just try to fucking make it. I mean it's a little weak smelling and some of the notes don't exactly go with the others but hey! They have something to spritz now! :)
And now their friends are doing double takes because bro you did not smell like that last night. Also it smells artificial and it's weirding them out
Anyways I sincerely apologize for making you read that.
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oh no you don't go apologizing for this confused, a/b/o is a guilty pleasure of mine (also i am doing concept drawings for asmodeaus rn. the timing of this ask made me laugh real hard) This isn't a smutty ask, but just so all of you know, I am good with those since I need the practice with suggestive stuff. I just won't be very good at it for a bit.
Anyway. I have never actually thought about this, but I have always sort of thought of scents in abo worlds to be a very instinctual thing that no amount of perfume can cover up. I don't know if you've ever encountered a scent you can taste but I have, a light in the room of a pool I was swimming in went out and let out a smoke so foul you could still feel it on your tongue and in your lungs when you pinched your nose. It was beyond overwhelming. That doesn't mean there's any less of a reason for perfumes to exist though, as I talked about in that post about Rollo's handkerchief in the past disease was thought to have been spread through foul smelling odors and bad air. If anything I could see that being an even bigger superstition in an abo world where scent is already super important. I could see people trying to make scents that complimented their natural one, maybe it could even be a courting ritual for an Alpha to give an Omega they are interested in a perfume they've made that compliments their smell and has notes of their own... Oh! Or working in notes of their scent to their own perfume to indicate interest!
a-twistedheartslonging mentioned in their tags on that post about Jade's scent that Morays use scents to attract a mate, so if you take that idea about perfume being a courting step I could see Jade just being so distraught that his beloved pearl has no discernible scent. And what's worse they keep changing what little scent they do have! What's he supposed to do with that huh? I think he'd be the only one excited by Yuu making their own perfume because it gives him an excuse to talk about the scents that Yuu likes and what perfumes are like in their world. Maybe they could make a perfume together next time (⚈_⚈)? Oh haha he's just thinking out loud he knows you aren't close enough for that ye- Oh you... you would like that? You think he smells nice and you want to know what sort of perfume or cologne he uses?
(he'd get so delulu so fast if you said that. sure Yuu you can smell just like him c: just let him dim the lights a bit first he hears that's important c: just remember to be gentle with him ok???)
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loveharlow · 1 day
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my unpopular obx opinions that no one asked for (unfiltered and in detail)...
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Sarah cheating on John B was not unexpected. She ran into the arms of Topper Thornton whenever the opportunity presented itself which bring me to my next point...
Sarah does not like being a pogue. I believed she liked the initial freedom and adventure but when shit gets tough, she runs back to what reminds her of her old life (*cough cough* Topper). She has the luxury of being on the fence of Kook and Pogue sometimes.
Pope is technically the real main character of the show. On paper, yes, the show is about John B finishing the treasure hunt that his father started. BUT, after season 2, it was clear that the entire treasure itself revolved around Pope, a direct descendant of the man the treasure belonged to and I don't think we got enough of that.
Pope is a stronger character than he is presented to be. I think the show highlighted his self-defense capability in seasons 2 and 3 but it's widely ignored that this man has gone up against Rafe on multiple occassions and lowkey beat his ass. (Rafe beat his ass too but still).
Kiara will forever be wrong for how she did Pope. She treated him like SHIT. Like, if I was Pope, I genuinely could not be friends with her after like. P4L my ass. And then there are people who call him butthurt but if the roles were reversed...Hardcore Kie fans can defend her all they'd like but after a certain point, there was no excuse for her to be leading him on the way she did. She knew she didn't like him in that way and that's very clear from the start of season 2, but she proceeds to sleep with him and then tell him off.
Ward is a better father than Big John. Y'know, I pondered on this for a bit. And I am standing by it. Big John would break both of John B's legs and throw him onto a set of train tracks if it got him closer to finding the gold and excuse it by saying some shit like "But you didn't die, did ya, Bird?". Like that man was ALIVE for almost an entire year and made no attempt to contact his son. Ward is a criminal by all means but most of the time, at least what we saw as viewers, he was doing it for Rafe.
Cleo deserves more screen time and a better backstory. I know she's a new character and all but like WHAT'S HER LAST NAME?? Like does she not have one? Is she not real??
(edit) Kiara is very insensitive to the feelings of her friends and overall generally self-centered. She literally acts like her parents are the worst in the world. I get it, they don't like her friends and they are indeed hypocritical towards the pogues considering her father was one. But in season 2, she gets in the car and says "this shit would be so much easier without parents" next to JJ, aka the one with an abusive father. Not to mention, she's seen how John B fell apart after his father disappeared and how hard it's been for Sarah to go against her father.
CLEOPOPE BEST SHIP.
Anyway, I did this out of boredom. I had to take a break from actual writing for a moment.
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 15 hours
Text
Simon Riley NSFW hcs ♡
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Two lovely people asked for my NSFW Simon headcannons and I'm happy to provide!!
Just a disclaimer, these are my headcannons. If you have ones that are totally different, that's okay!
He's fictional and can be whatever you want him to be <3 (except a rapist. We don't do that here.)
If you have any COD thoughts or requests, my inbox is open!!
~ Fi 🐝
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I'm a soft!Simon truther until death.
There's not a single reality in which I can see him ever being too rough with you, let alone hurting you.
First of all, he has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's maybe had sex 2-3 times in his life and I don't think any of them were memorable or good.
I'd wager that all of them were hookups, encouraged by other soldiers to "let off steam". But Simon just can't do it, it feels so wrong. To give himself so fully to someone he doesn't even know.
There needs to be an emotional connection in order for him to feel comfortable and good. He needs to trust and love this person before he can do anything with them.
It's gonna take a while for him to open up, but once he does everything is smooth sailing.
(I also don't think he masturbated excessively. He probably jerked off, everyone gets horny, but especially if we say he's on antidepressants, his sex drive is pretty low. He's either too tired or just doesn't care)
Your first time together was fueled by a, not so uncommon, make-out session on his couch. It'd usually end with you grinding on his thigh or rubbing yourself over his clothed cock until you both reached a satisfactory end.
Simon thinks he could live an entire relationship with only sticking to dry humping, but in reality he's just terrified of the intimacy of real sex.
It's not too romantic, none of that rose petals lit candle stuff. It's not that Simon hates all of that, but I just think it'd be too much for the first time.
He's already so nervous (so are you probably if we're honest) and all that extra stuff would overwhelm the fuck out of him.
(He will spoil you with rose petals and candles another night, even if it just ends you with you falling asleep in eachother's arms <3)
Eventhough it's soft and sweet, you're both still very horny and basically rip the clothes off of the other.
Foreplay is important!!! (For all my girlies who don't drip down their thighs)
Not only for you but for him too. Even if he's rock hard already, he wants to enjoy himself, maybe be a tease. He will always make sure that you're okay and ready (and so will you bc he deserves it).
Would literally eat you out to calm himself down. He probably has fallen asleep while licking your pussy, it's his personal meditation.
Your taste, the way you feel on his tongue and the fact that he was two perfectly good pillows wrapped around his head made it easy for him to nod off.
Also, he prefers it hairy. (Fight me.) (pls don't)
I know it's cliche but he's like 2 seconds away from just coming inside of you the second he pushes in. Not only does he feel good but when he looks down he sees you and he could cry from how happy he is. He just loves you so much.
Can we please put the "You only take half of him" bullshit to rest??? Thank you. We all know Simon as BDE but let's keep it on the real side okay. He couldn't give less of a shit if you can take him to the hilt or not.
(Some gals physically can't bc if your vaginal canal is too short, then it's impossible. You don't want a bruised cervix, so don't be stupid) I do think when he's more comfortable about it and a little more desperate and rough, he'll play into the size kink.
He probably has a huge size kink anyway but he would never make you feel bad if you couldn't take all of him. (Especially if you're giving him head bc let's be real that thing is not going down no one's throat okay)
He has the prettiest moans. I JUST KNOW IT. they're more throaty and deep but they sound good. I honestly don't think this man is capable of whimpering (like physically. Not with that smoker lung) sorry babes.
Simon isn't too loud, but just enough to make you that much hotter. He will try to pull more moans out of you, like a little challenge for himself.
NONE OF THAT "10 rounds Riley" SHIT. (Have any of y'all ever had an orgasm before like?? Who the fuck is going ten rounds??? Not me that's for sure lmao) it really all depends on your guys' mood and neediness on that day.
I do think he can and wants to go a couple of rounds but it's probably more on the rare side and never more than 4.
He knocks out immediately. He's always tired anyways.
I think his favorite positions are missionary, prone bone, and cow girl. He likes the closeness, wants to feel every part of you and kiss it like his life depends on it.
The further you are into your relationship, the more new stuff you can try out. He's always gonna be hesitant at first but if it's not too out there he'll try it.
Simon will tell you if something is a hard no for him and he expects you to respect, just as he would for you.
Would 100% make you ride his face. Wants to he smothered in it okay. (Simon said sit, so sit.)
Simon would be down to tying you up (one condition; you're never tied to anything. In case of emergencies)
You won't get him to be tied up though, that's a real hard no.
I think the closest you'd get to a submissive Simon is if you order him around.
He's sitting on his knees before you and you tell him exactly what you want him to do (one thing Simon Riley can do is follow orders) and he'll pretend to let you be in control and maybe you are for a while, but deep down he's always in control (not necessarily sexual or possessively, he just needs the security)
He loves to get head (not as much as giving it tho) but he will never ever force his cock down your throat, even if you begged him.
He can't do it, won't do it. Has he had the urge and fantasies?? Sure, but it goes against everything he promised when you got into a relationship.
Sweetly suck on his tip and stroke the rest of his length and he's happy as a clam <3
His absolutely favorite thing is when you ride him in the morning. Just lazy and sloppy circles of your hips while you sit on top of him. He loves the sight.
Simon'll gently hold onto your hips and guide you if need be. It's even better if you're laying flush against his chest and the both of you are snuggled under the blanket.
Bonus; he loves to make-out with you. It's an unhealthy obsession that has led to too much lipgloss/lipstick ingested just bc the fucker couldn't wait 2 minutes for you to take it off.
Kissing you is his number 1 way to show you how much he loves you since words aren't his strong suit.
Needless to say, he's head over heels for you, and the sex is great. <3
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I hope you lovelies enjoyed it!
More of my works --> 💫
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Real talk
Im sooooo tired of Vox always being portrayed as the victim and Alastor the only one 100% responsible for their friendship falling apart
Did we all suddenly forgot that Vox is a terrible person too? He brainwashes his audience, he supports Val, he is willing to offer his lowest employees for Val to kill, he's also prob abusive to his employees as well, he stalks pretty much everyone, he has like 5 cameras inside Angel's dressing room, also it's like implied he's jealous of Angel because he gets Val's attention, him being jealous of Angel for being a victim of abuse is pretty messed up if you ask me. Oh he also told Sir Pentious to fucking kill himself and he also gets hard of seeing people in pain and get hurt! (Sure it was Alastor but still messed up)
" he looks so sad at the end of stayed gone when Alastor threatens him I feel so bad for him:(("
Really ? Well maybe if he had just kept his little hate boner for Al to himself instead of feeling to need to start publicly slandering him it wouldn't had happened. Just saying. Also I don't see how people feel bad for him. If anything he looks so extremely pathetic it's laughable I want to kick him
Okay this is kinda out of the point I want to make it's just many people who make him the victim seem to forget he's a terrible person so I just wanted to friendly remind everyone that he's as awful as Al ^^
Anyway
I think, we should acknowledge, that it's a complicated, and probably tragic, situation. What if, maybe, they're both as equal at fault for shit going down hills for their friendship. Vox because he doesn't respect others wishes and cannot take no for an answer, he prob tried forcing Al to move on with recent technology, which Al hates. ((His request to Al to join the Vees also prob meant catching up with the nowdays stuff and new technology, like the rest of them)) and Al because he was prob unnecessary cruel and brutal with his rejection.
I don't think Al was just using Vox like I've seen many people say. He allowed Vox to take a picture of them together. For Al to do that I think it confirms their friendship was genuine. "Ah but it's Alastor so that means it was fake cuz he's an evil manipulative bastard who only cares for him-" You're wrong, but also right lol. He's an evil manipulative bastard, but , he's also capable of genuine friendships with others (( did y'all forget Rosie lol? )). What I think happened is that, time passed , things changed. Vox became obsessed with new technology and tried to force Al to follow in, Al didn't like that, but instead of communicating with eachother and solving their problems by talking it out and respect eachother's wishes, they had an unnecessary argument and fight. They're both to blame for this, they're no victims in the situation and it's okay you can still sympathise with eithers side
Also people who make Al the villain for like not returning Vox's confession and feelings in most One sided Radiostatic videos/fics I've seen-- yikes.. I really hate that I have to literally say to PLEASE don't villiantise the aroace character for being aroace and rejecting confessions. It's extremely ace/arophonic (and yes I get to have a say to this, I'm a replused aroace videos/fics like this genuinely make me feel negative emotions) even if he was extremely cruel with his rejection -- villiantise the fact that he's an asshole- not his rejection.
yes I agree!! this is essentially a consolidation of points I've made before ksdlfglg
like yes, alastor's an absolute shithead but I think there are some people who forget that vox is also... not a good person. I don't think there's anything wrong with there being sympathetic aspects to vox but I feel like there's such a huge amount of fanwork where he's the only one portrayed sympathetically without showing his own bad points in their relationship, and I absolutely hate it when alastor is fully blamed for how vox is now and vox is seen as
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yeah
vox got pissy at a rejection, that's not being able to take no for an answer, that's incel behaviour LMAO
feel like there's something to be said about people feeling the need to sympathise with the one with unrequited feelings compared to the one who has to deal with someone expecting romance from them when they don't feel the same. does it have to do with society's expectations about romance that unrequited feelings are more sympathisable?
but yeah I am glad that at least the "complicated" part of the description of their relationship implies to me it won't be as simple as "vox was the poor victim and alastor was just using him", I think it is much more interesting if there's no clear victim and both were at fault in a way
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katkit-42 · 2 days
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Ok I'm trying again. I've gotten over the dungeon master pun so I'm gonna say what I actually meant to.
Anime onlys don't look.
So the thing about the dungeon masters is, I know we saw dungeon masters of different races in the epilogue, but I think Rui-sensei was trying to make a point in having three of the four dungeon masters we know best being elves, and the one to actually defeat the demon being a human.
Elves are the longest lived species and they have a habit of treating everyone else as children or pets. They also have the greatest grasp on magic. And it's explicitly said that the elves are the ones who hide the true nature of dungeons and demons from the other races, because they think the other races can't handle it. But it is Marcille, Thistle, and Mithrun who fall to the demon's tricks. Even though the elves think of themselves as above the other races, these three fall to the demon. You could argue that they didn't realize that the demon was dangerous, and it's true, they didn't know. But I'm talking from a meta-perspective--why was it that it's the *elves* who fall for the demon? Because the elves have always been prideful. They think they know better than any other race.
And then we have Laois. And he too falls to the demon. First, I love that because throughout the story, we've had this dichotomy of "Laois loves monsters" and "Laois wants to protect the people he loves". And they have always been treated as mutually exclusive--Laois can't indulge in his monster love without hurting his friends. But then, we see that once his friends give his monster obsession a chance, they can find things they like about it too. Marcille is still creeped out when she thinks too hard about where the food comes from, but she's willing to eat the finished product (which, lbr, is most modern peoples reactions to food). Chilchuck started thinking Senshi and Laois were crazy, but by the end of it, he was ok with it. Even Izutsumi comes around.
And then, Laois gets his wish. To become his super cool original monster oc donut steal. And everyone is prepared for the worst. Everyone thinks this is Laois' betrayal--he couldn't hold back against his monster obsession and thus he will kill all the humans.
Only, he doesn't. It is by becoming this monster that he gains his power to defeat the winged lion. It is his love of monsters and his want to be one that creates his ability to protect the ones he loves. Even though they still don't fully understand him, even though the lion offered him what he always wanted--he used his love of monsters for his friends and family. And really.... That's what he's always been doing. No one else saw it at first, but he has always been using his obsession to help the people he loves. And even at the very end, he did the same.
And anyway, I think that's an important reason why the elves kept falling to the demon. The elves are magical and long lived and wise, but from what we see, they're.... Lonely. They have their strict hierarchy and their stuffy rules with each other, and with other races, they take on the role of sole caretaker to these little things who can't possibly understand the "real world." Even Marcille falls to this. But Laois, who has always been on the outside, never stopped trying to empathize with others. He calls Chilchuck "Chil" (something extremely personal to halflings); he doesn't hold a grudge when Namari leaves the group after Falin dies; hell, even though it didn't end well, his insistence on being friendly with Toshiro was probably him trying to avoid doing to Toshiro what others have always done to him. He adores Senshi and Izutsumi. His succubus is Marcille smiling. He isn't lonely anymore.
And the elves who become dungeon masters, don't seem to have that. Mithrun felt alone due to his lover and brother. Marcille and Thistle both felt like they had to protect their shorter lived family. But Laois didn't feel that isolation. Well, he did in his village. But when meeting with his friends and forming their little party, he realized he wasn't alone anymore. And that became more important than even being a monster.
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ninjakk · 3 days
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A friend who, unfortunately, likes JC defended him a lot to me when I was first watching the donghua then read the novels. Perfectly honest, I thought he was a loser but my friend kept defending him for being able to pull the Jiang sect together after the LP massacre but...I don't know? Did he really? wasn't it more WWX's reputation that pulled the sect up and high? Is JC actually a good leader? I have trouble seeing that
Hi anon 😊
Ah yes, I have been there as well unfortunately!
Although I was respectful of their opinion, it seems we no longer talk haha 😆 Perhaps it was something to do with the time they claimed JC hunting down and torturing innocent people who used guidao was "just a baseless rumour" - to which I casually responded with proof it was certainly not a rumour. I mean, JC literally encouraged JL to kill them and feed them to his dog for a start 😂 I don't think that was a joke in the slightest lmao. Honestly, I didn't expect them to take offence at the evidence proving otherwise, since we enjoyed discussing the novel and debating such things anyway! But, hey-ho!
Hmm, the whole "restoring the Jiang sect to its former glory" debate is a major source of discourse between MDZS fans! I mean, JC did join forces with the Twin Jades of Lan and launch a surprise attack on the Wens in order to secure their confiscated swords. Which I have to say, I always found so hypocritical and two faced of him to do... You know, considering he not only unjustly blamed LWJ for everything that happened to LP, but even wished WWX had left him and JZX to die in the cave prior to the attack as well! And he calls WWX shameless...
But even so, JC seems to have worked hard in the three months WWX was missing. Attacking the Wens supervisory offices and hunting down WC alongside LWJ and the respective cultivators under their command. Even WWX praised his efforts when they were all reunited. So credit where credit is due, I guess.
That being said, it works both ways! WWX's efforts should not be ignored either - which I often find the case whenever JC is praised for his accomplishments regarding the Jiang sect. WWXs new cultivation path is what helped them gain an upper hand during the Sunshot campaign, he garnered much praise and admiration during the war - it was only in the aftermath that people began to turn against him, especially seeing the obvious lack of loyalty or protection from JC. But WWXs guidao most certainly helped rebuild the sect's reputation and enticed new disciples as well. JC even gave his blessing for WWX to showcase his cultivation during the Mount Baifeng night-hunt, in order to recruit even more disciples! So I agree with you, WWX's new cultivation path was one of the driving forces in helping elevate the sect to its former glory, perhaps even beyond.
As for whether JC is a good sect leader? Honestly? No.
Evidence would suggest otherwise, in my opinion. Some like to pretend JC is the beloved sect leader of Yunmeng - but that's far from the case. He's made the sect less approachable, closed its doors to the public and scared away those seeking help on matters he doesn't deem worthy of his attention.
The general public seem frightened of him because of his awful personality and the fact they have witnessed him torturing innocent people. His own disciples seem to feel like they have to walk on eggshells around him and be careful of his famous temper. He seems more focused on pushing JL beyond his limits and imposing his own insecurities on the poor kid than actually helping others with their problems. When he's not doing that, he's off hunting down his latest unsuspecting victims to torture and do god knows what to!
So no, I don't consider him to be a particularly good sect leader, his priorities do not align with what I (or I would assume most others) would consider as such. A great leader is able to get along with others and inspire their disciples. They should also be able to secure backing from the general public by being present and approachable when issues arise.
Let's put it this way - LWJ was given the title 'Hanguang-jun' a title befitting of how the public perceive him, righteous and willing to help others. JC also has a title, that of 'Sandu Shengshou', which is in relation to a Buddhist saying regarding the three poisons - the root of all turmoil. Certainly not a good public image to have! Even the general tone of anyone talking about him isn't overly respectful - people rarely call him by his courtesy name unless they are addressing him directly. Otherwise, it's his birth name, which of course, is highly disrespectful unless you are very familiar with said person. MXTX made a deliberate choice for the public to call him 'Jiang Cheng' instead, so it is certainly significant and shows us that he is not well respected or liked by the general public and even other cultivators! This is in the first few chapters as well! All in order to set the tone of how JC is perceived. I mean, even the narrator (which is of course a stand alone entity/person and not WWX as many wrongly assume) calls him JC instead 😂
Overall, I think JC did put effort into building his sect up again, but WWX certainly deserves equal credit for that as well. That being said, it doesn't alter the fact he's not a very good leader in the sense I would consider, and I think that's been made more than apparent in the text as well.
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meowmeowriley · 2 days
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Changes: A Poll-Fic
"Remember, you're not supposed to be here, so don't do anything stupid." Love you too, Price. The Captain had caved. He'd been begging to be part of this mission since they'd gotten the lead.
Soap reached up, rubbing his gloved fingers across the teeth of his mask. The mask he'd stolen from Ghost's room. Gaz had found him clutching it, dried mixture of tears and bile coating his cheeks, and forehead pressed to the porcelain throne. He'd been banned from drinking for the foreseeable future. That was the only stupid thing he'd done. Ghost wore a mask, Ghost only spoke when he had to, Ghost was hard on the rookies, and nobody questioned his mental state. But they did, didn't they? Well Soap didn't. And nobody needed to question Soap, he was fine.
"I wanna be like you when I grow up."
"You wanna be better than me, Johnny."
Well to be better than him, first he had to be more like him. So he'd donned Ghost's mask, to better embody the man's stoicism and presence. Definitely not as a way to hide his chapped cheeks and the bags under his eyes. He'd painted it red, wore a jaw print bandana. Different. Better. Yeah.
Price had finally caved to Soap's insistence he be part of this OP, but issued his warnings. "I know you don't need to be told, but I'm saying it anyway." He'd warned. "They've had him for eight months. Torture changes people, he may not be the same."
Of course he wasn't going to be the fucking same. He didn't need to be the same, he just needed to be alive.
Ghost never really spoke about his past, only left little hints here and there, but Soap wasn't dumb. He'd been through it before. Ghost could handle the torture, and Soap could handle the aftermath.
"I'm fine." He finally answered. "It'll be by the books, Captain." As if anything they did was ever 'by the books.' Price accepted his answer, though he didn't look convinced. It was just the three of them, with Laswell listening in. Gaz was in charge of collecting data on the bio weapon that was rumored to be here, Soap was in charge of the search and rescue mission, and Price was overwatch as the two Sergeants made their way in.
The trio hopped out of the truck, and Price slapped the side, sending it away. Soap and Gaz nodded to one another before splitting up to approach the building from different angles. Price silently made his way to higher ground.
The trek was agonizing, moreso because Soap found himself feeling more impatient than usual. Every time he had to lay low and wait for a patrol to pass he could hear the sand slowly falling, trickling away in the hourglass that was the rest of Ghost's life.
"You sure know how to keep things interesting, Johnny." Ghost had smiled at him, rare that he didn't have his mask, but then again, who other than Soap would challenge the Ghost to strip poker? And who other than Soap would cheat be really really good at strip poker? So good as to force Ghost to choose between his pants and his mask, the last two articles of clothing he had on. Soap himself had only one sock, and his jumper on, choosing to doff his pants so he could keep access to the cards in his sleeves. The  unpleasant cold of the metal chair against his junk was worth it, just to see the surprising decision on Ghost's part to lose the mask and not the underwear.
"Aye, like to shake things up, Sir." He'd said with a wink as he laid yet another winning hand down, only slightly supplemented by his sleeve stash.
He was certainly always one to shake things up. Here he was, itching to shake that damn hourglass up. He'd shake it, flip it upside down, bash it over someone's head and stuff the sand down their fucking throat, if it meant he'd get more time with the enigmatic phantom that had haunted his mind since that shitshow in Mexico.
Price gave the signal, they crawled forward once more.
"This is takin' longer than a constipated snail takin' a shit." He grit out into comms once the coast was clear.
"Soap, while it's nice to hear your voice again, one more quip outta you and I'm pulling you. Watch it." Laswell had gotten the cold shoulder, she'd fed Ghost bad intel. He blamed her, he didn't, couldn't blame her. She was just as worried. Probably.
He just needed to get Ghost back. Repay his debt. Ghost had saved him back then, after all. That's what this was. An eye for an eye, but in a positive way. They were good for eachother. Fixed eachothers problems. Complimented one another, personality wise. That's all.
He crept into the building, silent and unnoticed.
They didn't have much on the layout, just the outer perimeter, so they were going in blind. That didn't bother Soap, he was thriving for the first time in months. He finally had something to do other than run the rookies into the ground.
He dodged patrols, picked off the ones he could get away with had to, using the knife he'd kicked so long ago after Ghost had left it behind.
He found some unlit stairs leading into a basement they hadn't known existed. If I were keeping an incredibly dangerous prisoner, now where would I keep him? Three sets of teeth, plastic, cloth and bone, were bared towards the darkness. He couldn't help it, he felt giddy. He tried to quell his excitement, didn't need to make any mistakes now.
He made his way, thankful for his NVG's as there were no lights, even after descending the stairs. The hallway he entered had doors along one side, nothing much in the rooms, but he cleared each one as he passed. No fuck ups.
Near the end, he found a door with seven locks. Suspicious. Good. Suspicious was good, here. The other doors had been wood, dry rotted and deteriorating, this one was metal.
His eyes itched. He flipped up his NVG's.
Curiously, whenever he blinked, Soap could've sworn he could see symbols on the door, but they'd disappear the longer he looked. He'd blink, a sickening yellow circle with lines and symbols within would appear just as he opened his eyes, but faded so quickly, he couldn't convince himself it had ever even been there. The harder he stared the more the door looked perfectly normal, if you ignored all the locks.
Many many thanks to @stuffireadandenjoy for brainstorming with me on how to make this poll fic work, and to @resident-idiot-simp for being my beta, as always ❤❤❤
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heavenlyvision · 19 hours
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replacement pairing: johnny cage/reader wc: 600 warnings: ANGST!!!!!!!, gn!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n a/n; i uhhhh, found an idea i wrote a very long time ago and thought "how fucked up would it be if johnny did this?" and then adapted it for him and rewrote some stuff :3 hehe i love you guys (please don't be mad) </3 ANGST UNDER CUT
His hands trace the curves and contours of your body slowly as you sway in the cool breeze the evening is providing. If you were to be looking from the outside in, this would look like a perfect moment between lovers and while the moment is between two lovers, to you, it feels less than perfect. His mind is elsewhere whilst yours is focused solely on him, on this moment, it hurts to know that he’s thinking about them again.
You never knew who they were, but he had mentioned sparingly that you were like them, you just didn’t know to what extent that was. Sometimes you would do something small, like laugh when you couldn’t quite line all the buttons up on your shirt correctly and he would get this sort of glazed-over look in his eyes with a small, sad smile and you would know that you had done something to remind him of them. It seemed, no matter how hard you tried… everything you did was a memory of them. To him, it was almost like you were them.
When he was with them, he loved freely, easily, limitlessly but it wasn’t enough, and they left him for someone else. He was a shell of himself… until he had met you and you sparkled, you had loved him so certainly, it came effortlessly to you, and that was one of the first times he had made the connection in his head, between the two of you. You were unapologetically yourself, just like they were, it was why he loved them, their fearlessness and ability to just be themselves in a world full of people trying to be someone else. It’s also why he loves you… because to him, you are the same.
Tonight was supposed to be about you and it had started that way. He took you to your favourite restaurant for dinner and then a blissful stroll under the night sky, where you both just talked and enjoyed the moment together. It would’ve been… it could’ve been perfect, if it weren’t for his distant gaze. You ignored it, you did your best anyways, to pretend everything was… perfect.
Back in his apartment he had taken you out onto the balcony and asked to dance, it was silly but appreciated, the soft glow of the moon, the quiet humming of music. It was everything, you had always wanted a night like this and when you asked how he knew… his reply was simple.
“They would’ve loved this too.”
It hurt, it crushed you, it was getting to the point where you weren’t sure if he could differentiate between the two of you anymore. What memories had he made of you and what were the ones of them? Does it even matter to him anymore?
You’d stopped moving and he knew automatically that he’d fucked up, “I’m not them, Johnny,” you’d frowned, “I’m me.”
“I know that, of course I know that, and I love you,” he was lying, and you both knew it, he didn’t love you, he loved the memories of them that he saw in you.
The pain in his eyes was the kind when you fear you might lose someone, he was afraid… not of losing you though, of losing them. You love the happiness you bring him; you love him, you just don’t love that you aren’t the one actually giving him that happiness.
Your head leant onto his chest as you murmured, “Don’t forget it…”
“I love you,” he’d repeated.
You weren’t sure if he were trying to convince you or himself.  
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unstable-samurai · 2 days
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THE NEW COUNTRY GIRL NEXT DOOR WANTS YOU - smut
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Miyeon x Male Reader
one-shot
tags: blowjob, teasing, strangers tor lovers, first sex, ride, penetration, creampie
[Note: English is not my native language, So possible grammar errors and more rigid prose can be found in the text. But I ask that you give it a chance, if I don't give up on this, I will work hard, bringing longer and more effortful stories:)
This is the first version, I will eventually correct whatever is wrong.]
History:
The moving team worked very hard. Fortunately it would be a quick job. One of the many advantages of being a single and minimalist man: little furniture. Y/N helped the moving team by picking up the most delicate boxes that contained electronics and fragile objects. The neighborhood was beautiful on that calm afternoon, the golden sun radiated the green grass and the white fences of the houses on the street.
"Man, I'm going to love living here", thought Y/N, sighing with satisfaction.
He noticed that the neighboring house on the right had a beautiful flowerbed. Maybe it was a kind old lady who lived there. The whole flower and decoration thing indicated that. He still didn't know any of his neighbors. Y/N cut off his thoughts and returned to his task. It didn't take long to get everything inside the house, anyway.
The interior of the residence now had some furniture scattered throughout the rooms and several boxes that needed to be opened. Y/N wasn't in a hurry, he would do everything calmly, after all, it's not like visitors were going to show up anytime soon...
Well, he was wrong about that.
While he was drinking water, the doorbell rang, slightly startling him. Y/N really thought he was going to be completely alone, at least for the first few weeks until he adjusted to the neighborhood. The person at the door was probably one of the neighbors wanting to welcome him or something. Y/N was exhausted as hell, but he couldn't start things in this new city by ignoring people like that.
To his surprise, the one on the other side of the door was a beautiful young blonde. She holding a box of chocolate.
"Hello, new neighbor! I came to welcome you to the neighborhood." She said, quite excited.
The girl was wearing a red flowery dress that highlighted her small body.
"Hello! Are you one of my neighbors?"
"I'm the girl next door. I brought this to you." She handed him the box of chocolates.
"You didn't have to do that. Thank you very much. What's your name?"
"My name is Miyeon." She smiled at him. It was a charming smile.
"Y/N."
He reached out to shake her hand, but Miyeon pulled him into a hug. Y/N couldn't help but enjoy the heat her body emanated, the sweet scent was also delirious.
"I was watching you when you were bringing the furniture into the house." She revealed it to him.
"Serious?" Y/N questioned. "I did not see you."
"You seemed focused on the task."
"It must have been because of that. Are you, by any chance, the owner of that beautiful flower bed?"
"Yes! It's mine! I've been taking care of it for about two years. It's my greatest pride!" She told him, her little eyes sparkled with joy. "It's not very common for men to pay attention to flower beds and things like that. You're quite observant, Y/N."
"I think we both are."
Miyeon laughed, her cheeks flushed.
"I hope you like the chocolates."
"They look great."
"Do you have anything for dinner at your house?" Miyeon asked.
"Actually, I was thinking about ordering a pizza."
"Save the pizza for tomorrow. I can make you dinner at my house and bring it to yours. We both eat together. What do you think?"
Y/N quickly thought that: even if he was delirious with fever he would still be unable to refuse a proposal like that.
"If it's not too much trouble, I would love that."
"Me too! Then I'll see you later."
"I'll be waiting for you."
She said goodbye to him and went to her house.
He wasted no time getting ready. Y/N ran to the bathroom to take a well-deserved hot shower. In the shower he felt silly for being so excited about that dinner, he almost looked like a 15 year boy on first date. But Miyeon was a really beautiful and attractive woman, as well as incredibly friendly. He didn't expect a blessing like that to happen so suddenly on his first day in the new house. "Miracles happen," he thought. And also, after the last relationship, he deserved to breathe new air.
Breathe new women.
Y/N played poker on his laptop sitting on the sofa in the living room. The internet would only be turned on the next day, and he was starting to feel a bit of withdrawal from not being connected. But when deciding to leave the troubled capital, he should also get used to being a little offline. All the social media shit had been fucking with his brain for a while.
"I need to learn gardening or something.", he thought.
The doorbell again. And now Y/N didn't feel fear when he heard it, but rather excitement. Y/N took the notebook off his lap and placed it on the sofa, combed his hair a little more with his fingers and went to open the door.
"I hope you like lasagna!" Miyeon exclaimed, carrying a glass baking dish with both hands.
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Y/N barely managed to speak since he opened the door. She was dressed really provocatively, and acted like she didn't give a shit, totally casual. She had placed the lasagna on the kitchen counter. The two were sitting on the sofa. Miyeon was cross-legged, and the short skirt she was wearing wasn't able to hide even half of those juicy thighs.
"You're going to live alone, right?" She asked.
"Yes. Do you live alone too?"
"Correct. I used to live in the capital, but I got tired of the traffic, the people there, all the futility and stuff. My job luckily allows me to live anywhere I want."
"We're not much different then."
"You also lived in the capital?!" She asked, amazed.
"Exactly."
"Now I'm sure we'll get along great." Miyeon commented, and casually placed her hand on Y/N's knee.
It was soft and warm. A thought came over him and he imagined her sliding that hand to his thigh, and from his thigh to his groin. Just by vaguely imagining this scene, Y/N felt his dick harden inside his pants.
"You know, I was actually watching you move in. You caught my attention. In fact, I've seen you since you came here last month to look at the house." Miyeon's voice was no longer animated from before. It was now in a low and sweet tone. Sexy. "I hoped you would become my new neighbor."
"I think if I had seen you too, I would have moved here a lot quicker."
She smiled.
"You're sweet" Miyeon slid the hand that was on Y/N's knee to his thigh. "And naughty."
"Why you say that?"
"Because I can see your hard dick in your pants."
Y/N couldn't contain himself and placed his hand on Miyeon's thigh. The grip was so intense and sudden that she couldn't take it and let out a muffled moan.
"I can't control myself with you dressed like that" he said, looking intensely into her eyes.
"I don't want you to control yourself, darling." when she finished speaking she jumped into Y/N's lap. He grabbed her small waist and started kissing Miyeon on every corner of her face: cheek, mouth, chin and neck. She was totally surrendered, and felt between her legs how hard his dick was.
Y/n slid his fingers along the strap of Miyeon's crop top, feeling the soft texture of her skin under her eager touches. With a slow, deliberate movement, he lowered the strap and, to his surprise and delight, saw that she was not wearing a bra. Miyeon's small but perfectly formed breasts were exposed. Without hesitation, Y/N leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips, sucking it voraciously as his tongue played with the sensitive tip. Miyeon arched her back in response, moaning loudly with the pleasure that coursed through her body. "Yes, baby!" she said between muffled moans.
"I love having my breasts sucked. They are sensitive. This makes me so excited." She commented, ecstatic.
As Y/N occupied himself with her tits, Miyeon felt more and more aroused, her breathing becoming heavier by the second. With hands shaking with desire, she got off Y/N's lap, her mind fixed on one thing: completely drooling over that hard, thick cock that was waiting for her. In one agile movement, she unbuttoned Y/N's pants, eager to taste what was underneath.
Miyeon played with Y/N, caressing the dick that was inside his underwear with desire. "Make him wet for me, baby," she begged, slyly. Miyeon started kissing Y/N's dick. The warm, soft lips through the cotton of his underwear gave him indescribable pleasure. "Keep going...argh!! This feels so, so good," he sighed. It didn't take long for the underwear to become damp where the glans of the cock was. Y/N let out an anticipatory moan when Miyeon released his dick. He breathed quickly when he felt the skillful caress of her lips wrapping around his cock, which was pulsing with excitement. Y/N's eyes closed instinctively, getting lost in the overwhelming sensations that Miyeon's mouth provided. Every suck, every moan of pleasure she made, every flick of her tongue, pushed him closer to the edge of absolute pleasure.
With a husky moan, Y/N pulled away from Miyeon before she made him cum, her eyes shining with lust as he made her stand. "Sit on the sofa and open your legs for me!", he ordered, and she smiled at the order. With eager hands, he lifted Miyeon's skirt, exposing her wet, pink pussy to him. Without hesitation, he dove between her legs, his tongue finding the right spot of pleasure that made her tremble with desire. Miyeon's moans echoed through the room, her mixing with the sound of wet and obscene movements that filled the air while stroking Y/N's hair.
Finally, momentarily satiated by the intensity of pleasure, Y/N sat down on the couch, her eyes burning with desire as he watched her hungry for more. With a husky, lust-filled voice, he ordered her to ride him, giving in completely to the desire that consumed them. Miyeon didn't need any further encouragement, riding Y/N with a ferocity that only increased the intensity of the pleasure they shared. Her pussy turned out to be very tight and incredibly delicious. The hip movements were incredible, the skirt was lifted to the waist, while the top was pulled down. It was beautiful the way she rode on his lap, so that Y/N didn't want to close his eyes just to see her moving smoothly and steadily on top of him.
"Daddy!" She blurted out of her mouth.
"Do you like riding your Daddy?!"
"I love it! I love it! I love it!" She moaned louder and louder.
"Just like that! Yeah! Such a good girl!"
"Argh! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Miyeon moaned following the rhythm of her hips going back and forth simultaneously. That was art!
"What you said before?" Y/N asked between moans and heavy breathing. "Your boobs are sensitive, right?"
Y/N took his back from the back of the sofa and hugged Miyeon. He could wrap his entire body around her, and that was delicious, because that was what he felt like doing with her: wrapping himself completely around Miyeon until he ejaculated.
Y/N grabbed Miyeon's waist and it was as if she already knew what he was going to do because she automatically arched her back so he could suck her boobs. This made her go crazy immediately. "So good..." she moaned. Miyeon started to ride faster as she became delirious with pleasure.
"Like this! Keep sucking my little tits, Daddy! Oh!How naughty you are! You suck so good!"
Y/N squeezed Miyeon's ass tightly while licking one of her nipples without stopping. She was moaning incredibly loudly.
"Slap my ass, Daddy!"
"Ask again!"
"Spank my ass, Daddy. Slap it until it turns red, please!" She screamed.
He slapped her while she rode frantically. Y/N was going crazy with so much pleasure.
"I'm going to cum!" He groaned in her ear.
"Cum inside me, baby! Let's cum together!"
"I can?"
"Yes! I'm taking the pills.
Y/N thrust her hips making her accelerate at a pace she had no control over.
"I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum!" She said.
"Cum for me!"
"I'm going to cum on your cock, Daddy!" She screamed, then wrapped her arms around Y/N's back, scratching him in the act.
Miyeon flexed her thighs on his lap as her pussy squirted, gyrating her hips and rolling her eyes in pleasure. Those movements involved all the sensitive receptors in Y/N's dick, and that was the end for him, cumming inside her, pressing Miyeon's body against him, while she said:
"How delicious! I feel your hot cum inside me... Uhhh!" Her entire body shook. "Now it was dripping..."
She remained astride him for a few moments longer, while cum slowly dripped down her pale thighs. Y/N kissed her, slowly and tenderly.
"That was amazing!" He said. His body was completely relaxed and the brain had reset itself. Little by little reality returned to his mind.
Miyeon got off his lap and it was a surprise for both of them to see that his dick was still a little hard.
"Can you handle another round later?" She asked, giving him a teasing look. "I haven't felt this hot for someone in a long, long time."
"We can have sex after dinner. Now I'm starving... Damn, the lasagna must have gotten cold!"
"Do you know what the second best thing is to sex?" She asked, trying to hide a laugh.
"Hmm, i don't think so."
"Microwave!"
24 notes · View notes
starpirateee · 18 hours
Note
Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!
Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:
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Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?
I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!
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"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"
Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.
"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."
"What have you got?"
With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."
This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.
So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.
"They didn't finish?"
"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."
"Is there anything else?"
"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"
"Anything worth noting?"
Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."
"They got this gateway open?"
"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."
"Why?"
"Because he was declared dead, sir."
His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.
"So, another dead end?"
"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.
"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"
If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.
The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.
He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.
--
"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"
By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.
He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."
"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."
"The same bear from last month?"
"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."
"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"
"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."
"Not good enough?"
"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"
Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"
"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"
Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.
"You know me well..."
"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"
"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."
"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"
"Mhm, I've been busy."
"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"
"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.
The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.
He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.
There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.
He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?
When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.
"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"
Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.
"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."
"Owennnn…"
"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."
He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.
But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.
He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.
"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"
"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"
Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.
Blue… Purple…. Yellow…
The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.
Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…
The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.
So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…
He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.
"Owen?"
That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.
"Owen?"
Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.
He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.
"Curt?"
"Prove you're Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?
"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"
Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.
"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."
The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.
"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."
"What happened to you?"
Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"
Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.
"It's really you…"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."
"What now?"
"I know what I saw…"
"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."
"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.
Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.
Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.
"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."
"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."
"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"
Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"
"…Pink, and green, and white..?"
"And then blue again."
Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"
There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.
Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."
A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"
"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."
"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"
"And a bear, yes."
"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"
"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."
Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"
"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."
"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"
"That's what they were researching."
That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.
Owen nodded. "The colours."
At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.
"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.
"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-
Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"
"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"
"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"
"What if I don't make it?"
"Trust me! Please!"
Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.
He reached out.
Owen reached out.
Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.
Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.
Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.
"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"
Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.
So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.
"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.
"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"
Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.
"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"
"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.
"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"
"Your desperation speaks for itself."
Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"
The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.
Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.
Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.
"You better not be fucking with me."
"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."
The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.
"Very well."
That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.
"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"
Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.
For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Keep thinking bout Yutu and his relationship to his dad. Like we know a little more about Ace, Floyd, Azul and Riddle (maybe I miss someone else?) but I was curious about other details or interactions with the other Overblot boys.
Like how does talking with someone who tries his best to not get involved in other people's business like Jamil work for making his parents fall in love (if that's even something Yutu can see happening with how distant he is)? How does Yutu go about trying to lay some clues for Vil without being found when Vil's doing his best (with Rook's help) to figure out what's going on?
Or what about the shenanigans Ortho would get to to ensure Idia and Yuu get together so they can try to stop the apocalypse and how would Yutu feel about having at least one person (his uncle at that!) who he can rely on? Or does Yutu ever find himself in a situation that makes him go "oh, I could've had this with dad if it weren't for the council" whenever Malleus says something deep without realizing?
Gaaaaahhhhh I just really like this au and I wanna ask you so many questions but I also don't wanna be annoying
ask is referencing the fyuuture kid au, information on which can be found here and here, or under the series section on my masterlist.
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No one is annoying for asking questions! I have asks for Idia and Leona's Yutus, which I think makes every overblot boy except for Jamil and Vil due for a detailed post. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a grey area since I have talked about him a bunch but haven't done detailed hc for him. Yet anyway, Jade and Floyd got one so he needs one too otherwise it'll bug me.
Jamil! Yutu absolutely has a lot of guilt and self hatred around his entire existence. As I talked about in the post about the main cast, Jamil was executed in Yutu's future, and he feels personally responsible for that. If his dad had never fallen in love with Yuu then he would have had a chance at his freedom, that's how Yutu has come to see it anyway. He doesn't want Jamil to fall in love with Yuu, even if it means erasing his existence. Down that road lies only tragedy, but there is also something so beautiful about the way Jamil interacts with Yuu when he thinks no one is looking. There is a degree of mutual respect for how hard the other works and intense desire for approval and praise he can sympathize with. He just doesn't see a way for this to end well if it's allowed to continue, he's a very pessimistic kid Jamil! Yutu. But then again the others didn't have to see the rotted corpse of their father getting dragged around by a blot phantom and be told by a few angry relatives of Kalim that he is the one who put him there.
Vil! Yutu is a bit afraid of his dad. He knows from personal experience that the man is intense and does not take no for an answer but he's never been in the position to see 1) what a good thing that can be or 2) just how silly that can make him act. He's also NEVER had to contend with the real Rook before. The Rook he's familiar with is a mindless monster, dangerous sure, but with patterns you can memorize and protect yourself from. This guy is just wild, sure his dad says that he's only putting up for his behavior "for now" but someone tell him where the fucking line is??? The last thing he wants is to just say everything and risk ruining the timeline but Vil keeps demanding specifics. The main thing Yutu tries to do is get him cooperating with Idia in learning about blot phantoms, the way he sees it things will be much easier if his two most trusted adults are on the same page. It's not a difficult ask either post chapter six, I think Vil is someone who would want to understand what happened to him on a scientific level to some degree, but oh Yutu. Now you've just made him wonder how you know that little piece of information, not everyone knows about his overblot, but he didn't know that bit did he?
Ortho and Idia! Yutu wind up being very close. Having his uncle on his side puts Yutu in a much more stable place emotionally and mentally than other Yutus. They spend a lot of time analyzing old records about blot and phantoms, everyone else is convinced they're just hyping each other up for some weird PhD project inspired by the Ramshackle Prefect's time at NRC and hey. They aren't exactly wrong. As for how they go about trying to get Idia and Yuu together... it's a lot of anime recommendations and conveniently forgetting they had something else to do. Yutu has just as in depth knowledge of Idia's tastes as Ortho does, and the added bonus of knowing Yuu's, so they search through lists of things, pick out the shows they know will get the two of you talking and then sit back and let you interact. Yutu is genuinely confused about why or if this is working... but Ortho did send him a video of his dad hyping himself up to try and ask you out (he over heated and just hid inside his room instead but hey. It's the thought that counts.)
Malleus! Yutu just got his post here. And yes he does think regularly about what he could have had with his father if things had been different, but a lot of those thoughts come from his sillier moments. Hearing Malleus talk at length about ruins or seeing him confused about how to interact with technology make him seem more... human for lack of a better term to him. He's very familiar with the myth of Malleus Draconia, but he wasn't fathered by a myth. He was fathered by a man who fell in love with a human under very extraordinary circumstances and Yutu wants to know about why. What things did Malleus like most about Yuu? About Twisted Wonderland? If he had gotten a chance to be raised by him what things would Malleus have wanted to teach him? Would he be any different?
Azul! Yutu is also afraid of his dad, but not based on any personal experiences just his own insecurities. He's not a thin guy, he's not in Octavinelle, and he is extremely worried that his dad will see him as some sort of stupid muscle head and be disappointed in having him. He's also, understandably, extremely angry at him when he learns what he did in Book 3 to his parent. Fuck this guy, he'll just save Yuu himself and hopefully if they still get together he'll grow up to be a totally different person when he's born in this good timeline. But there's just something about Azul's approval that he can't help but want now that drives him crazy. Why can't he just be ok with being alone? He has been all this time anyway...
(Meanwhile Azul is deeply impressed with how well Yutu is at disguising himself as a dumb muscle head. Just look at the kid, he's got everyone thinking he just is controlling their shadows while he's actually using a really complicated bit of cosmic magic. Suckers all of them. Not him though. He's not being fooled by anything about Yutu, no sir.)
Leona, Leona, Leona. He's tricky for me to write. Scar apparently has children? In one the the Lion King sequels? Leona's dislike of kids seems to come from his complicated feelings around the throne and his want for people to be independent. I think he would be one of those gruff intense kind of dads who does the whole "we are never getting a pet" thing and then you see him asleep on the recliner with Princess Nooodles III chilling on his lap with him. Anyway back to Yutu-
Leona! Yutu's relationship with his dad is tempered by the fact Leona knows who and what he is from the start and demands to know why he has traveled back in time. He doesn't explicitly say he knows that he is his father or that Yuu is his other parent, just that he knows time travel is involved, so they have a fairly open amount of communication regarding the overblot "business" but not on much else. Yutu has a desire to understand his father and Leona has a desire to not disappoint him. Who would want their dad to be the second prince? He's destined for nothing but a miserable life anyway, all of the responsibility and none of the privilege (outside of the money but lets be real, Leona's ass does not understand that.) I don't think either Leona or Yutu fully understands that his existence is enough for the other to be happy. When they are forced to talk about it they both laugh it off and roll their eyes at how cheesy that sounds but deep down it means a lot to both of them.
Riddle! Yutu has gotten a lot of posts about him and his "hatred" of his dad but I thought I'd take this post to mention I like the idea of Yutu's favorite food being the chestnut tarts/mont blanc that aren't allowed at Unbirthday Parties but that Riddle still wanted to eat anyway. He's a lot like his father in his love of sweets and his determined denial of it, but he isn't the exact same. Also gives him one more thing to pick a fight with Riddle over (his dad doesn't get the big deal, they can just have a private tea party with Yuu and have all the different sweets they want... can't they?)
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wait how would wife reader react to seeing Zohakuten get formed? Does she already know or is it kept a secret?
Imagine: wife reader on a date with Hantengu and they get attacked so the clones come out. They can’t fully fight off whoever is attacking them so they know what they gotta do. I imagine wife reader would be so shocked and traumatized at seeing her angry husband shoving his hands into the other clones faces just to absorb them AND also shedding out his skin to reveal none other than the little guy himself!
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𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐙𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.
Hantengu (clones?)/Zohakuten x Fem!Reader [Drabble]
Synopsis: basically the request.
Warnings: Gore, Cannibalism, Blood.
Note: That's quite an interesting ask, Lumi. I like the idea of reader just being there, TERRIFIED as she holds the tiny Hantengu in her palm, staring at Zohakuten with wide eyes, face pale as if she's seen a ghost and waiting for him to explain. I imagine that this is her first time seeing him and is absolutely traumatised. (Ignore the other few hcs, this an au)
Note 2: This feels like a drabble but idk, I don't do drabble's since they're apparently supposed to be a 100 words exact. Other people say otherwise but hey, idk. Anyways, happy reading! (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠`⁠*)⁠。⁠*゚⁠+
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She was told to hide in one spot near the clones by not only the clones themselves but also Hantengu. "It's safe here. Do not move from this spot." She recalled Karaku saying and despite having said that with his usual relaxed tone, there was a hint of firmness beneath his laid-back façade. One second, she was laughing and giggling, chatting with her husband about how her day went when she arrived home near sunset, the next, she's hiding for her and his life because of a sudden a sudden ambush. The only time she and Hantengu would be moved to another hiding spot is when one of the clones themselves would approach them and this time it was Urogi, who was currently flying them elsewhere. "Urogi!" "Don't you worry your pretty little head, songbird. We'll take care of it." Urogi giggled as he landed and placed her in a tree where she and him would be safe. He gave her a kiss on her lips before quickly flying off into battle once more while the wife watched with fearful eyes. She nervously watched them fight the exceptionally strong slayers as she hid and would close her eyes everytime their limbs got cut before she eventually stopped watching the fight altogether due to her weak stomach.
Suddenly, however, they were approached by a demon, clearly hungry and out of control. It must've been a newborn. It immediately sniffed the air and looked up at the nearest prey, that being Hantengu and his wife before jumping up and tackling her to the ground hard enough to leave her senses rattle. Hantengu had fallen out of her delicate grip and landed into a nearby bush but was quickly on his feet again. His first instinct was to run but the shrill pained shriek of his beloved wife stopped him right in his tracks. "AHH-HHH!!!" What was the matter with her? He peeked out of the bush to see what was happening when he was met with the sight of a rabid newborn demon digging his claws into his dear's thigh, hurting her as he tried to bite her face. He was terrified! His poor wife is getting attacked and he couldn't do a thing. As she struggled to keep the demon away, she caught sight of her small husband and yelled at him to run before letting out another shriek of pain when the demon dug its claws into her stomach from the side, dangerously close to anything vital. She was scared and rightfully so because she thought she was going to die. Having and seeing no way out, "SEKIDO!!!" she cried out loudly for her other husband to come and safe her, pushing the demon away and looking towards the four who were in battle.
She expected them to immediately turn around to the sounds of her screams of pain and terror but... she saw Sekido, arms raised – the slayers were quickly recovering as this happened – and in the blink of am eye, had drawn in both Karaku and Urogi, almost as if they had teleported! "H-Hey!" Her eyes widened in pure horror when she saw both of them get absorbed by Sekido through his palms, leaving no trace of their existence behind. Then came Aizetsu, who surprisingly, willingly approached Sekido albeit quickly before he met the same face. Her eyes then quickly darted to the demon above her that was still trying to rip her to shreds and eat her, wrestling with it and try to survive for as long as possible. She kicked it off of her body for a brief moment before she was tackled down into the same position. Again, her eyes went to the spot her husbands were, desperate for them to save her when she noticed that only Sekido remained though at a bigger distance. He had fallen to his knees and appeared to be almost struggling? Shaking? Whatever the case may be, she noticed his struggle until... his hair began to grow... shorter? The kimono he is known for slowly shed and disappeared to ash, his entire body began to shrink – though his muscular form remained – and his arms were now covered by long sleeves similar to Aizetsu's but tighter. If her eyes could go any wider they would when she noticed that what was once her tall husband, was now a young boy too muscular for his age with floating drums behind his back.
She would have taken a closer look at him but before she could, he was gone faster than she could blink. Then, suddenly, the demon she was struggling against was gone as well, almost as he had been kicked towards a tree as it laid here, trying to catch its breath and regenerate. She saw as the slayers looked around aimlessly while she immediately got up and limped towards her small husband, taking him into her hands and looking around the same way the slayers were before being startled by the loud thump of a drum. Nothing happened... for a few short moments. In those few short moments, she turned and jumped nearly everything the same way Hantengu would before letting out a scream of surprise and fear when she felt the ground shake and saw multiple tree trunks grow from the ground which almost appeared like dragons. The quaking of the ground had caused her to fall on her rear but that was the least of her worries. She as fast and best as she could despite the dust that had been released from those dragons blinding her, desperate to get to safety as she held Hantengu. "W-What was that?!" Hantengu felt sorry for her about the fact that she didn't know about his existence as well but was too scared to even utter a word, only hiding deeper into her palm. They both heard the distant screams of agony from the slayers that had ambushed them before their sudden silence and seeing the same demon that had attacked her crash into a nearby tree. She instantly flinched back and slowly backed away at the demon, who was slowly regaining his senses—
"How dare you!!" A new voice growled causing her to flinch for the umpteenth time. It was deep, possibly deeper than Sekido's though lacking the same amount of gruffness yet holding far more command and pressure. The wife looked towards the direction where the voice came from, holding Hantengu with shaking arms and preparing to run when she is stopped by an orange shine in the dark which were clearly eyes. Though they were not directly staring at her, the woman could not move a single millimeter and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. Then, the person who stood in the shadows revealed themselves. A boy no older than seventeen or even sixteen covered in blood. She took in every single feature of his, from his beautiful lashes to the same similar long nails on his hands and feet. Her fearfully curious eyes then landed on the kanji etched onto the floating drums.
"Hate"
She's never seen that one until now and wondered if he was a clone as well. "You dare touch what is mine?!" The only clones she knew of were the main four and Urami! She didn't know there was one more! And so young too! The youngest She's seen! The boy's eyes are trained on the rabid demon which was frozen in the same spot as the much younger demon in appearance gets closer. "An unforgivable sin that you will atone for with your life!!" As he spoke, the words he said before processed in her mind. What did this boy mean 'touch what was his'? She is not married to him! Only to Hantengu, Urami and the main four, not this child. She was too scared to even think properly as she watched the rabid demon get ripped limb from limb while the boy yelled. "You will suffer whilst you die!!" He used his hands and dug his long nails into the demon's flesh, dragging it up to his ribs before pushing his hand in deeper and pulling out a rib. All the terrible noises and howls of agony could be heard as he continued on with the demon's arm, breaking it like a twig as the first arms had gone to its leg and tore it from the hip. He repeated the process with the other arm and leg until the demon was simply a limbless mess squirming like a worm. The boy then crouched and aimed his hand directly for the neck, digging his nails in before swipping his head clean off. "Such scum who bring harm to my benignant bride will not live to see the next sunset." He growled before quickly turning around at the strong smell of his main body, Y/N and her blood.
Once she made eye contact with her, even her breathing ceased. It felt like she was going to die! That looks can kill should only be a saying, not a statement! As he began to approach her, glare never changing, her breathing only hitched as she instinctively hid Hantengu behind her back. Her heart was practically in her throat and she swears she could cry on the spot but she was just frozen. Just as he was in within arm's reach, he froze, eyes darting up to hers and staring intensely. It was silent for a few moments before be spoke. "Why do you fear me, my wife?" The only response he got was her staring at him as if he were crazy, like he had grown another head or something. "I am Zohakuten. Hatred. The main body's youngest self, your husband also." The boy introduced himself, gently grabbing her hand and kissing the back of her palm. So that was his name. Her only response was to stare at him wide-eyed for a good while until she let out a breath that she had held due to his intense gaze. "I—ughnnn..." The pain of her injuries caught up to her, the adrenaline having run out as she collapsed, however, with his lightning fast reflexes, Zohakuten caught her into his arms and took her into the bridal carry, as he then examined the extent of her injuries.
"I'm sorry I didn't arrive earlier, my wife. I would never let such evil savage touch a hair on your beautiful head." The way he spoke certainly caused to feel a certain way. That certain way being flustered and embarrassed. "I-I... Thank you." The woman said softly and let herself be carried by the demon boy. As he walked with her through the forest, eventually beginning to sprint, she could feel herself lose consciousness, the exhaustion having caught up to her. Zohakuten noticed and only went faster but remained as calm as he could, he knew she would survive with him around. "Sleep, my darling wife. I'll take care of you."
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Note: So that's how. I mean I can't blame her 'cause bitch, I'd be terrified too. Hope you liked that one.
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