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margindoodles2407 · 4 months

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It's Back- Zelda on Heroforge PART SEVEN: The Classics

I am going to go ahead and put this here: TW for blood

I may ramble a little bit so it's going to be under a break :) And as always, click for best quality :)

Genesis- The Hyrule Fantasy: Okay, so part of the reason this was on hiatus for so long was because I could not figure out his design. Obviously, very few of my Heroforge designs are exact replicas of how the characters look in my brain and in my hand-drawn art, but man, Genesis here was something else. But after my long break, and with a little fanagling, I am... actually kinda proud of it! He's only 10 in The Hyrule Fantasy, and I tried to mirror that in his pose, with the look of quiet terror on his face and his not knowing how to hold a sword. I kinda imagined he was in the middle or end of a dungeon, perhaps facing off the boss (which explains the bruises and the bloody nose). Also, note the bottles and backpack and the Recorder! I liked being able to add on all of his stuff >:)

Genesis- Zelda II: The Adventure of Link: This is the Genesis that I accidentally made too handsome 😅 (Only later did I realize that it might be because he kinda looks like Anakin Skywalker. This is what happens when you have two hyperfixations at once, kids.) ANYWAY. He's grown up since the events of THF- it's been 6 years, after all- and now is a much more experienced fighter, so his look of fear has been replaced with frustrated determination, and he now knows how to hold a sword. His outfit has also changed a bit, since he now works in and lives at the castle. Also, he is supposed to be wielding the Magic Sword, and he has less stuff because this game is more focused on magic, so he has a bunch of magic objects in his backpack.

Dawn- The Hyrule Fantasy: Dawn I struggled with because, while her physical appearance is practically perfect, Heroforge doesn't really provide many options to accomodate her big fluffy dress, to say nothing of my WAYYY overcomplicated fanon design for it 😅 But overall, I think I'm okay with how it came out. So. My ✨vision✨ for this was at the end of the game, after Ganon has been defeated and Genesis stumbles into her dungeon for the first time. So her dress is dirt-stained, and she herself isn't in the best condition. And she has this look of genuine shock and surprise on her face, because I think she was starting to give up on hope. You may ask: well if she was a hostage, why doesn't she have shackles? And my answer is that I simply didn't think of it until now :/ Oh well :)

Dawn- Zelda II: The Adventure of Link: She doesn't canonically appear in game, but obviously she's still very much a part of the world, and I like seeing how she's grown up since the events of THF. I think her time in Ganon's prison has definitely scarred her, but she's learning how to heal and is doing so very well, being a gentle and very kind woman and a strong, compassionate ruler. I like her dress even less than the previous, but that's just because it's not up to the standard of my drawings. Also, loyal friends will acknowledge her teacup and the headcanons behind it.

Ganon: This Ganon is actually a direct copy of his design in A Link to the Past (which I'm linking below), except that he no longer bears any of the grandeur of his previous designs or any connection to his Gerudo roots, because he's completely lost his mind. I tried to convey this through his posture and pose. And I actually kind of ended up feeling really bad for him as I designed him, so... take that as you will T^T

Impa: Okay to be honest. I really have nothing much to say about this incarnation of Impa. I was barely able to cram any Sheikah imagery in there and I just, overall, don't care for this design. Having said that, I find her characterization, on the other hand, to be so interesting. I think she and Dawn are very close, and that Impa practically raised her, and worried so so much about her during her imprisonment. And now, I'd like to think she acts as a beloved mentor to both Dawn and Genesis, helping Dawn rule responsibly and making sure Genesis is successful as a swordsman and as a protector and boyfriend good friend to Dawn.

Somnia (Princess Zelda I): Okay, I'm going to be honest. I'm not completely in love with how she turned out. But I suppose I did all I could for her. Again, it's just that it's not how she looks in my head. But anyway. I tried to make her look how she would when she's asleep, because I didn't feel like posing her crazily 😅

The Prince and the Wizard: Full Disclosure- I think this one is my favorite. I love how Somnia's brother turned out (I tried to make him look older than he is in the official art; my logic is that if he inherited the throne instead of Somnia it must be because he's the older sibling, because it's not like their father didn't trust her to rule since he told her the location of the Triforce). And I think the "wizard" turned out creepy enough- I say wizard in quotations because if you look in the official art, he seems to be made of the Prince's shadow, and I think he was perhaps a minion of Ganon's or even, like Aghanim, a projection of Ganon himself.

Zelink: If you've been around my blog long enough, you'll know about Genesis's love of tea. So naturally, that's what I had to incorporate into this one. I like to think they have tea together every morning :) Note their matching teacups :) AUGH I am so proud of this one :)

Zelink 2: Okay disclaimer. My heart is set on the previous Zelink in regards to the Classics. But this scene is so iconic that I am legally obligated to include it. So. You get two. Pick your favorite. (If you have questions about this please don't be afraid to ask, I'm sure I'll be much more eloquent when answering 😅)

I hoped you liked it! If you have any questions or comments, I'd love to hear them! Next up is Twilight Princess, so keep your eyes peeled >:)

Previous Lineups (in case you're new or just want to revisit them):

Skyward Sword

Ocarina of Time (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Wind Waker

A Link to the Past

Hyrule Warriors (part one) (part two)

Breath of the Wild

Various Zelinks

#heroforge #the hyrule fantasy #zelda ii #the legend of zelda #guys i forgot how fun this is for me #i hope you enjoy!

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ayameyumesaki · 1 year

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I'm glad I looked forward to Re;ssurection ch. 15 because damn I'm close to tears... Schnee, good boy good boy 😭

[Spoiler ahead, you've been warned!]

This chapter is talking about Schnee and Suzaku, along with Schneizel sending Lancelot and Guren's frame coat thingy. There aren't many differences in Schneizel scene, but hey, we're gonna get Cornelia talking to Zero!Lelouch next chapter.

The thing I want to talk today is the additional Schnee and Suzaku scene which is... pretty heartwarming and needed, especially in Suzaku's side. I'm not going to reveal everything, my main focus is what Schnee said to Suzaku.

In previous chapter, we saw Schnee going somewhere with Kallen which is kinda revealed here but anyway Suzaku was about to talk to Lelouch (yes shut up im totally emo he actually went out to search him in his condition just to say 'im glad you're alive' askdjaljfkahflajd) and Lelouch said he should talk to Schnee first and they did. At first Lelouch wants to leave but Schnee said it has to do with Lelouch too.

Then, he revealed that he saw the documents Ledo left behind about them so he knew the situation. He also said it was by his own will he came there. He then told Suzaku that he attacked Suzaku after the FLEIJA bombing because he was mad and tried to deny it, he also fled because of that. Since he was aware that it was never by Suzaku's will, he regretted the fact he attacked Suzaku that day.

That's why when Schnee said he found out that Suzaku is still alive, he was happy but also angry, much like how Suzaku thought about Lelouch in prev chapter :) Fun enough, he also questioned the same thing as Suzaku did in previous chapters, but in calmer way.

"Like, why don't you tell me anything about it,"

Fun enough, the way they showed this line was with Suzaku looking extra sad and guilty like how he always did in manga version, and Lelouch... Oh, Lelouch.

Then, comes the scene that makes me, cry. Literally cry, because the way Suzaku responded to it as well...

Schnee: When I heard your rescue mission is a success from Kallen-san, I was thinking about punching you at least once (hence, in prev chapter, Kallen told Suzaku to be prepared for another punch lol). But, like this... There's no way I can punch you who is hurted like this... Suzaku: Schnee...

Do you mean I waited two weeks for... Schnee trying to comfort Suzaku 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and he even cared for him.... I mean I just want Schnee to have a talk with Suzaku and this???????? Damn, Lelouch, step up your game before your bf is snatched by someone else.

Cough.

Anyway, Schnee brought Suzaku his Zero outfit.

Suzaku: To support my back, huh? Schnee: No, Suzaku-san's and Lelouch-san's. Both of yours. Zero is a hero you two created. That Zero must be able to save Nunnally-sama from this difficult condition.

Please notice about Suzaku's face. He looked kinda... mad or serious. It's certainly the face he showed as Knight of Zero, so I think it's serious. Lelouch also smiled. Zero is the symbol of justice they created together--- Lelouch is the Zero during the war and bring the peace to the world, while Suzaku is the Zero who protects the said peace with everything he has. Schnee told them that he supports both Zero.

Suzaku: Schnee, I... Schnee: Suzaku-san, even now, you are the existence I admired the most. That's why, the gratitude I wasn't able to convey that day, please let me say it again to you after this problem ends.

You see, it could be because our Suzaku is always and always been guilty driven boy he is since he was 10, so I think, here, he wants to deny Schnee's words. But Schnee is... Suzaku's subordinate for a reason. He didn't accept a no, much like his benefactor, so he just left without letting Suzaku spoke even a word and Lelouch commented on it.

It's beautiful to see how Schnee's act in Lancelot & Guren ended with him being able to tell Suzaku directly about what he actually felt. Schnee is always been the most honest one between Konoe Knights, and Suzaku was certainly grateful for his existence---and even Ledo's. Though it wasn't mentioned, you can see how much it pains him to meet Schnee, but he probably wanted to apologize anyway, because he always knew Ledo is someone precious to Schnee too, much like how they are to Suzaku. I'm glad Schnee showed to Suzaku how much he actually cares for him... Something that no one in the series showed it directly to him, probably, after Euphy.

Schnee's matter aside, we should remember that in the movie, Suzaku actually told Lelouch to return to be Zero. While Suzaku didn't say it during his conversation with Lelouch in the tower, through this scene, I think Suzaku actually wanted to tell Schnee about him stopping to be Zero. I think there is a scene where he said that his existence as Zero is a mere decoration---I think it was during that scene with Lelouch, I forgot in where though.

But clearly, through the manga, I could feel many reasons for him to think twice about his position as Zero. While Suzaku is ultimately accepted his fate to be hated as shown with the airport incident, with his inability to protect Nunnally and let her to be kidnapped and Lelouch returned, he felt even weaker than he ever was. Unlike during the wartime where he actually had a clear purpose to create a peaceful world and return Japan to freedom, Suzaku didn't have that clear purpose either, except he should live. His mentality was probably on the lowest, and you could see in that scene where he stood in the middle of an empty room, probably thinking, he was more than ready to return things back to how it should be. The manga showed how much pain he actually felt as Zero, which no one could see, through his expressions. And I'm glad this chapter explored it.

Additional comment: In this scene, Lelouch praised Suzaku about Schnee, and Suzaku said "it is something they imposed by themselves", then they stood watching the sunset. The author commented "one can feel the distance between the shadows of those two who stood next to each other, but Lelouch still enveloped the black cloth to his body".

Pretty good as a whole package. Can't wait to see Cornelia being mad and pointed her sword to Suzaku and Lelouch next. I want to see how that Cornelia goes about to kill him then say "I'm glad that you're okay". 😭

#anyway happy bday cornelia!#next chapter jeremiah and anya #and cecile and nina #and prob cornelia ohgi and tamaki too!#code geass #code geass manga #code geass lelouch of re;ssurrection

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plushiehamuko · 1 year

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I HAD A DREAM ABT MASTERMIND KAEDE and she was SO unhinged and crazy and she had this based outfit and it was sooooooooo…i was in awe. I tried drawing it but alas…the idea didn’t convey itself. Tell me abt ur mastermind! kaede thoughs PLS

OOOOOOOOO THAT IS SUCH A COOL DREAM I AM JEALOUS HONESTLY...

mastermind kaede is actually SUCH a good and interesting idea because she could actually be a really good mastermind.

because like. if she wants to, then this girl can manipulate. she very much knows how to take one look at a person and instantly figure out the best way to get through to them; of course, the biggest and most obvious example is shuichi. she had him wrapped around her finger so fast because it didn't take her any time at all to figure out exactly what he needed to hear. she didn't use this ability to harm him, at least not intentionally, because she is a super kind person with the best intentions. another less common example of this is actually her fte with kirumi. kirumi is quite stubborn in her ways and insists on always putting others before herself. but when kaede talks to her, she is able to phrase things in a way kirumi responds to. instead of insisting kirumi should take care of herself for her own sake, kaede insists that it would benefit her classmates despite kirumi being her main concern, and because of this, she actually takes this advice seriously and agrees to change her behavior. once again, she does this with fully kind intentions and has kirumi's best interest at heart.

all that is just to show that kaede just has this amazing ability to understand others almost instantly, and that in combination with her strong optimism and kindness is what makes her such a wonderful friend and a lovable character.

however, if that ability fell into the hands of someone with bad intentions? they could make all hell break loose.

imagine a kaede who still has this ability to gain everyone's trust, who doesn't die and instead makes her rounds to become close to everyone. everything seems like the normal, kind, loving kaede we know until the numbers of remaining living classmates gets lower and lower. and eventually, something just seems off.

imagine the despair in shuichi discovering that this girl that he loved and trusted more than anyone was actually the one causing the pain that his classmates have been experiencing. there is nothing so full of absolute soul-crushing despair than to have the person who has been lifting you up and giving you hope that you and your friends would all escape together be the one who made you go through this in the first place.

imagine her becoming completely unhinged once she is discovered, a sadistic, evil, vile person that is completely unrecognizable compared to the girl that anyone would have insisted is too kind to even hurt a fly just a few days ago. her standing there and recounting just how easy it was to get everyone to behave according to plan, denouncing every last heart-to-heart conversation as just another piece of her plan. fitting for the theme of the game, everything was a lie.

it honestly suits her so well and is such an interesting idea to explore!! without even changing most of the things that make kaede the person that she is besides her optimism and hope, she can become something so despicable, and that is so cool.

#squishy talks too much #this idea has me so so so mentally ill #she is EVIL and CRUEL and AWFUL and WICKED what the HECK #i love her #people talk to squishy!!#about kaedes <3

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kork-inkorkerated · 2 years

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Part two (ig) of the Dr:S inspired fantasy AU !

For Nagito, I decided to play pretty heavily into the little mermaid aesthetic since his canon story has decent parallels ( hopeless romantic, tragic back story undertones, unlucky, self destructive levels of devotion) and also because whenever I draw him please imagine his Japanese VA instead of his English VA.

(When it comes to memes , Bryce is pretty good and I don’t hate his voice, but I think Megumi does a much better job of encapsulating ALL of Nagito’s character better( her softer tone definitely helps imo) not just the more comedic bits.)

As for his outfit’s individual details, I leaned into servant’s pretty liberally as well lol. My initial thought for this was some sort of twist on a holy prophet. Like he could be an envoy of the god of the sea or something, or even a water nymph himself.

Like with the Kokichi piece, part of the fun is not knowing entirely what his deal is lol. My Nagito in Danganronpa S had “Ice freeze all” so I gave him hand wraps since like Rantaro he’d probably get cold a bit too easily (and also because in canon he’s pretty sickly) .

The pseudo shawl around his shoulders and his waists have stripes on them, a nod to both old style striped sailor uniforms and Servant’s striped shirt. He also has the skill “debuff” so I decided to lean into the more “gentle death “ type Nagito ( the one seen more clearly in his character songs lol) who is kind of not even trying to be an antagonist but he’s long accepted that it’s just how things are. He also has “sleep”in my game and I like to imagine that translates into songs like lullabies or ballads lulling people into sleep. His shawls and over skirt are white and airy but tattered, to complete the whole eerily beautiful look, like the transience of life that is again referenced in one of his character songs.

For Izuru, I wanted his body and outfit to clash in a sort of way. I wanted to make it look like his head didn’t fit his body or uniform because he was technically “possessing” it. Obviously he and Hajime share one for this specific concept I had, although that was only this design and since it’s a fantasy au, I’ve grown more fond of the idea of them having seperate bodies so I might redo his design!

Though it’s not colored, I imagined him with the typical red eyes and black hair Izuru has. I also really like the “Izuru has emotions he just doesn’t know how to express them” headcanon ( and this is an au so I do what I want uwu) and the Izuru I like to draw is typically the silent affection type. He’s still got the look of someone who is born of apathy but he’ll do things like lean in for a hug or skin ship or be an absolute cuddle monster, all while not changing his expression. Out of all of his design choices , his hair was the hardest. I tried to make it as similar to his canon hair that I could but looking at the references, his hair is kinda a little dumb so I reworked it just a little bit, giving it a more proper whorl and making it a bit thinner to fit the wispy shadow motif he has going on .

The two of them are obviously close in the AU, and much like canon I like to imagine that Izuru is a godlike figure for Nagito, with Izuru being not really all that excited about that lol. I also like the common headcanon that Izuru isn’t entirely ‘bored’ of Nagito and might even be one of the less boring people in his life due to his luck cycle, so that’s in play here. This Izuru is kinda uncomfortable with how much Nagito puts himself down but lacking the full range of expressions he can’t convey it as clearly or bluntly as Nagito would need to see to get it. Part of their character arc is dealing with that and working towards common ground, kind of like a fusion of an old married couple and newly weds lol.

That’s pretty much it for now for this au in terms of characters I’ve drawn ^^

Thank you for reading if you got this far and have a good day!

#nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #nagito #kamakura izuru #izuru kamakura #sdr2 nagito #sdr2 izuru #udg Izuru #udg Nagito #danganronpa fantasy au

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thedarkmistress16 · 10 months

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Because of the oc ask, I figured I'd give you a comprehensive list of the typical things I do for writing inspiration, how I usually write things, and what goes through my brain as I write and develop ideas and characters. Feel free to pass around and jump in.

I'll usually always want to find a pic but mainly a gif of the character I'm writing about for both headcanons and actual stories for inspiration as I work, like visualizing their expressions morph to the scene I'm thinking of (the gif helps with this immensely). In other words, jumping off the canon page into my own vision. Two gifs if I can help it at the most-one for the beginning of the piece and one for the end, with different expressions portraying the fic's progression, but exuding a tone I'm going for in the piece itself (as an example, my yan!ts blurb was written before I thought of the gif placed at the end of it, which conveys an expression/similar action I visualized during the story, compared to the other yan!ts blurb that was inspired by the gif itself and was placed before the writing itself.).

Some of you may already know I used Sims 4 CAS for my OC reveal in one ask, and it was a lot of fun to do then since that game can have some stellar cc content (praise to all modders). But I also like playing dress-up/avatar creator games online for existing fictional characters or OCs to see how many details I can get accurate to the source material or my own concept; and, again, done in various art styles so win for variety. Really aids me in adding more or different details to my characters (yes, this is also an endorsement for Ambition's Dream Girlfriend and YES, you should play it. You legit get so many MR outfits for free in events and the gacha it's INSANE.).

Transcribing hand-written words to digital ones is something I'm recently trying again and is actually very helpful for my writing process. I'm the type of writer that tries to make every sentence perfect as I go along digitally, like writing and revising constantly, and I usually don't make that much traction in the long run when I have very few ideas or plotlines to begin with. Writing by hand not only makes me think more meticulously about exactly what I'm writing and how to word it, but also the bigger picture in general. I'm also less afraid to make mistakes on paper because when I go to transcribe it, I get lost in the scene again and end up adding more details I haven't thought of before due to already having the mental building blocks down. It's similar to physically stepping away from your work and literally seeing it in a new light- or format- in this case. Also, handwriting, while slow and tiring, is very therapeutic on the soul for me especially when I've stared at a screen for too long.

I go back and re-read my work ALL. THE. TIME. Sometimes it yields ideas, sometimes I edit one word or add another and close it. Other times, I have nothing to add. But most of the time, I pretend I'm pitching it to other people as I read through it. Helps me pick out problems within my own writing to re-explain things or expand upon another. It's a cruel mistress on top of a bad habit- I'm either my own hype guy or my own worst critic, usually not accomplishing much of anything in terms of actually writing something.

I can easily stare at a gif or pic or amv for hours and sit there doing nothing but daydreaming, planning out the entire fic in my brain, and then measly writing a plot outline and never returning to it to flesh it out because I forgot most of the details and that I had technically already finished it in my head.

Like any true writer does, I keep all of my ideas no matter how shitty or out of place they are in the current document. I never know when I'll need it for a different scene or if I come up with something else it works much better with contextually. Or, y'know, when you get that fandom brain rot knocking on your door again.

I flip-flop a lot between adding details and taking them away. I initially try to add as many as possible that I think I can get away with without it being too overbearing before condensing it down later when the writing style doesn't justify it. More details help me paint the scene much better like the environment, character relationships, and senses, but including as much as I do on the regular is usually unnecessary. To include that much detail is really only helpful to me when I've been away from the piece for too long.

Most often I'll completely forget what I'm writing about and go off on a completely unrelated tangent that is vaguely connected to whatever I tried to do. Keeping it floating there in blank space as I re-write it again or revising pieces of it usually helps. See #6 for additional results.

In case no one who's seen my blog notices by now, I tend to be quirky when I talk about my writing; usually in a shitpost-esque style, and then the story/narration itself taking the concept either completely seriously or being aware of the batshit insanity of it all and rolling with it (see, uh, my yan!rpf headcanons for an ex. of this utter derailment.).

Of course I throw myself into my own writing situations, OC or no; what kind of self-indulgent writer doesn't? Also, what easier writing perspective you can write about than yourself?

Side note, being addicted to songs and playing them on loop while I happen to write occurs A LOT and isn't necessarily inspiration, but it certainly helps my mood and flow when it comes to writing.

#list of moi #moi writing #so what are your writing quirks? lol #or more like writing sins ha #tagging this as:#10 cringe writing habits #because writing in and of itself is a pain even when it's fun #let's all cry together

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wil-is-done · 1 year

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Shiny Smily Story - Chapter 1: Prologue

Summary: Tokino Sora, after spending her first few months in hololive as the agency’s sole talent, will finally be joined by new recruits to her group, and she is determined to welcome her juniors with a bright smile and open arms, whoever they might be.

(…and the monkey’s paw closes a finger.)

Word Count: 2.495

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost.

“Now then, let’s meet again in the next stream! Byeee!”

Sora continues to wave at the camera, continues to wear her brightest smile until the end card rolls up and A-chan cut the audio. She breathes a satisfied sigh. Another stream well done.

“Aaaaand that’s a wrap for today,” A-chan announces, an eye on the laptop beside her as she puts the stream on the ending countdown. The other two staff members don’t wait long before they turn off the camera and switch off the lights.

Sora takes the time to bow politely. “Thank you all so much again for helping with the stream.”

“We heard you the first twenty times, Sora,” chuckles A-chan, while the two staff members mumble their you’re welcomes. They’re already moving to pack everything up and store them away. The streaming setup in the studio might not be terribly complicated, but they clearly want to head home as soon as possible.

“And you’ll hear it twenty more times, A-chan.” Sora stretches and relaxes, a cheeky tongue poking out of her lips.

What comes next has become fairly routine for Sora ever since she joined hololive a few months ago. She’ll help tidying up as much as she can, leaving the most vital technical bits to A-chan or the other staff members. After either a tangled cable or a misplaced lens, A-chan will decide she’s getting in the way more than helping, and shoos her away to get changed. Sora will insist on staying, A-chan will get a bit mean, until Sora eventually relents and leaves first.

Give or take fifteen minutes later, A-chan will leave the studio, a pack of equipment Sora’ll need for her home setup slung over one shoulder, where Sora will greet her in the break room, already changed to a casual, comfier outfit. Sora will thank the staff for their hard work, again, and bids them good day and goodbye. A-chan is much more casual about the process, more subdued, but the small salutes she gives to her coworkers as she leaves with Sora still conveys her gratitude and respect.

“Did we do good?” Sora asks as the elevator display crawls from three to two.

“Not bad. We peaked at around three hundred viewers, I think,” A-chan answers, a little distracted by something on her phone.

Sora hums. Something about that number rings a bell. “That’s about the capacity of the auditorium back in high school, right?” she tries.

“Uh, yeah?” The question comes out of nowhere enough that A-chan turns to look at Sora curiously. “Why do you remember that?”

“It was where I did my first live. Technically.” Sora puffs out her chest, stands on her tiptoes for a second. “You never forget your first.”

A-chan rolls her eyes, fondly, the memory twinkling in those light blues like stars, before her attention returns to her phone. “Technically.”

There is a ding, and the elevator door opens. Sora has to link her arm around A-chan’s to stop her from bumping into the elevator panel, or into the woman waiting just outside, or the wet floor sign in the middle of the corridor. Something on her phone is really taking up all her attention.

“Oh, speaking of,” A-chan starts, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t forget about that Twister punishment game on Wednesday.”

“I don’t think the chat is going to let me forget,” Sora muses. Her chat is always sent into a tizzy whenever Twister is mentioned, for some reason.

Sora remembers something about the game. Something interesting, and helpful. She steals a glance at A-chan, still engrossed by her phone, takes a breath, and goes for it. “You know, I heard Twister is even more fun when you’re playing it with someone else.”

A-chan doesn’t look up, but she does stop reading whatever it is on her phone. There is a gleam in her eyes, in the way they dart about for a split second, that clues Sora in. “I heard that too,” A-chan only says, even though she definitely knows where Sora is going with this.

Sora keeps her voice and tone even. “A-chan.”

This time, A-chan does look up. She stops, even. They both do, right before the exit to the parking lot. Sora gives A-chan a subtle smile, loosening her hold on A-chan’s arm, hoping she doesn’t come across as pushy or needy. Hoping she’ll come across only as a girl who wants to have fun with her dear friend.

A-chan averts her eyes, and Sora’s heart sinks a little. “Being on camera like you do, everyday… that takes a certain kind of courage. Courage that I just don’t have,” she says, and the gap between them widens by an inch. Then she peeks up over the rim of her glasses. “I’m perfectly happy with just helping you behind the scenes, Sora. That hasn’t changed.”

Sora is prepared for this, and tells herself she isn’t disappointed. “Okay.”

“And it’s your punishment game. Don’t go around dragging innocent bystanders into it.”

They share a chuckle, and step outside, leaving the hololive building and the uncomfortable conversation behind, arms no longer linked.

It’s not a terribly long walk from the office to the station, and Sora knows the way by heart, so she allows her eyes and her mind to wander. Allows herself to indulge in the tightness of her chest.

She’ll ask A-chan about this again, for sure. When enough time has passed for her to either forget or to get her hopes up again. Or when the ice creeping into her chest and the lump clogging her throat becomes unbearable. It feels strange to say that she’s lonely, even though A-chan and other staff members are always there with her, for her, just behind the camera. Feels silly. Feels selfish. But, as she heard once, the heart will want what it wants. And her heart wants to not be alone, wants someone to be there with her on the stage.

The walk is over in a flash, and suddenly Sora finds herself on the station platform, the announcement of their usual train’s arrival blaring overhead. The train rolls in, Sora waits for the passengers inside to file out, and takes three steps before realizing A-chan is not walking beside her.

She turns, and sees A-chan a few paces behind, head down, eyes glued to her phone. She hesitates for a split second - being rough simply isn’t in her nature - but she stomps back and drags A-chan by the arm. The two manage to make it inside only a second before the door closes.

“A-chan, don’t zone out like that,” scolds Sora, but she quickly softens. “This isn’t like you. Is everything okay?”

A-chan gets a little red in the cheeks. “Oh, no, yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry if I made you worry, Sora,” she mumbles, waving off nonexistent flies. “It’s just… management stuff.”

Sora tilts her head. “I’ve seen what management stuff does to you, and it’s not this.”

“Right. Um.” A-chan stiffly points to the seats. “Let’s sit down first?”

Sora raises an eyebrow, but nods. Thankfully, this line is never terribly crowded at this time of day, so empty seats are aplenty. They sit down next to one another, and Sora waits for A-chan to start. A minute later, as the train slices through the heart of Tokyo, she does.

“So, Sora. A bit of news you should know.” A-chan is talking slowly, carefully. Almost like she’s worried. “Management is thinking of expanding the hololive label.”

“Oh?” Sora’s eyes widen, hairs suddenly standing on end. “Expand it how?”

“By recruiting a new member.”

It takes a second for the sentence to register. And another second for all that sentence implies to hit her like a bullet. Sora isn’t sure if she wants to gawk, or cheer, or do a little twirling dance in the middle of the train car. “Oh, goodness,” she simply says.

A-chan continues, but without meeting Sora’s eyes. “The idea of recruiting a second member has been brewing in the background for a while now, but at the start of this month, for whatever reason, management suddenly decided to… accelerate it.”

“Accelerate it,” Sora repeats. For her own sake. “As in… you’ll start recruiting soon?”

“As in… we kinda already have.”

A distant, very distant part of her regrets having this conversation in public, if only because squealing like a banshee and pulling A-chan into a bear hug right now would attract a lot of unwanted attention.

“It’s not quite official yet. There’s still some paperwork to be filled out here and there, but, yeah. Management just sorta… found a very promising candidate and, uh… let’s just say, they more or less hired her on the spot.” A-chan coughs, voice lowering to just above a whisper. “She’s… interesting. Definitely going to turn some heads, that’s for sure.”

Sora almost blurts that she doesn’t care - she’ll be happy to work together with the new member no matter who she is - but A-chan shoots her an apologetic look that stops her.

“I’m so sorry, I would’ve told you all of this sooner, I swear. It just- god, it all happened so fast…” she trails off, cringing like she usually does when she thinks she’s talked for too long. “Um. What do you think?”

Sora takes a deep breath to calm down, because she knows if she releases all the excitement building in her chest at once she’ll blow out the ears of everyone in this car. She doesn’t hug A-chan, but she still clamps her hands down on A-chan’s shoulders. “I think this is amazing!”

A-chan freezes for a beat, then breathes out a laugh. Relief adorns the smile on her lips. The sight makes Sora’s own smile grow even wider. Enough to make her eyes water. She has to pat her cheeks, as if coaxing the smile from splitting her face.

“Oh, goodness. I’m going to have juniors again, like back in high school!” Sora’s basically bouncing up and down in her seat. It really does feel like she’s a high school girl again. “This is so exciting!”

Another breathy laugh as A-chan leans back. “Yeah. Guess you could see it that way.”

“What’s she like?”

A-chan’s smile freezes, then falls. “I… can’t really tell you just yet.”

That doesn’t quite bring the mood down, but it is an odd, unexpected bump. “You… can’t? Why?” Sora asks.

“Oh. You know. Just a couple dozen NDAs.” The last sentence rolls out of A-chan at double speed, and she continues just as quickly. “But I’m sure she’s going to be a delight to work with! She must be a pretty pleasant person, at least. Can’t imagine anyone would tune into a streamer without any charm.”

Sora narrows her eyes. Connects the dots. “You haven’t met her before?”

“I… sort of met her. In a way,” A-chan answers, but once again only leaving Sora with more questions. A-chan must’ve noticed, because she continues, “Again. Everything’s moving really fast. And we have to keep a lot of things under wraps. We don’t really have any other choice, if we want her to join us. Just- wait a week or two. Everything’ll be clearer then.”

Sora nods. She still thinks it’s odd, to be this secretive and to have so many precautions. Nothing like this happened when she first joined hololive. But she won’t pretend to be well-versed in the recruitment process of a talent agency, so she’ll simply place her faith on A-chan and the management to know what they are doing.

A-chan makes a little noise, remembering something. “That goes for you too, now. Keeping this a secret, I mean. If you let slip that we’re recruiting a new member before we make any official announcements, we’ll be in a lot of trouble.”

Sora nods again, with a reassuring smile this time. “My lips are sealed,” she promises.

A-chan stares at her for a beat, then reaches out to close an imaginary zipper over her lips. “There. Just to be sure.”

Sora giggles, but indulges her, not letting her mouth open. It’s silly. It’s great.

When the train reaches her stop, Sora’s so bubbly and lost in thought that she almost forgot to take her streaming equipment from A-chan. She pushes the pack into Sora’s hands with a smirk, and walks with her to the door. A-chan’s stop is still three stations down, so it becomes customary for Sora to bid her farewell first. Not that they have any other choice.

Sora turns, standing behind the line. “You’re going to tune into my karaoke stream tomorrow?”

“Missing Tokino Sora’s singing stream? Wouldn’t think of it,” A-chan smoothly says, hands crossed. She’s always cute when she gets the chance to act cool.

An announcement blares overhead. A few people file inside the train a couple cars ahead. None on this door though. Just how Sora liked it.

“See you later,” A-chan calls out as the doors begin to close. “Senpai.”

When the train speeds off, she feels so light she thought she’ll get carried off by the wind.

A second member. Someone to stand on stage with her. It feels too perfect, almost. Unreal. Like it’s a dream. But her life has always felt like a dream ever since she joined hololive, so she’s willing to accept this as reality, and not just her unconscious mind playing tricks on her in her sleep. And now she’s bold enough to dream even more. What if management doesn’t stop at two? What if they decide to recruit a third member? Or a fourth? Or maybe even a fifth?

Whoever they are, wherever they come from, however many they might be, Sora will welcome them all with a bright smile and open arms.

Tokino Sora, soon no longer the sole talent in hololive, takes her first step into a brand new story.

So I’m definitely not the first one to think, “What would hololive look like as an anime?” but I haven’t seen very many people actually try to explore the idea, so this is my take on it.

Deciding Sora as the main protag is a no-brainer, but actually writing her turned out to be pretty tricky. Having A-chan with her definitely helped, and the few clips I managed to find of the two interacting together has been a godsend. I think you can kinda tell already what aspect of Sora I’m going to focus on.

Anyway. Other holomembers will show up in future chapters, in case you can’t already tell. Absolutely excited to dive into the bizarre playground that is the hololive lore.

Next up, a high-spec robot enters the stage.

#hololive #hololive jp #tokino sora #a-chan #hololive fanfiction #Shiny Smily Story

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

would you ever do a hunger games au? like anakin and obi-wan in the arena and doing a katniss and peeta thing where they both survive? anakin maybe killing the competitors so obi-wan wouldn't have to? (just thinking that child killing is in character for him) anyway no pressure or anything I just haven't stopped thinking about a hunger games au of obikin and. I thought maybe you could do something with it!

i need you to know i shamefully snorted at the child murder thing i'm sorry and i'm also sorry this took so long and it's a bit all over the place and doesn't actually get into the Games at all (+ it's been years since I read the books so all inaccuracies should be tastefully ignored pls) this may not be what you asked for tbh but here you go!!

(content warnings: hunger games typical discussion of child murder, but nothing graphic)

(1.7k)

Anakin’s first emotion after his name is called is a strange sense of relief.

Good, he thinks. I’ll get to go with Obi-Wan. He won’t be alone.

He dutifully steps forward out of the crowd towards the stage, where the announcer is waiting next to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan who is looking at him with an expression of naked devastation.

Anakin tries to convey that it’ll be alright, that it’s fine, that they knew this was a possibility. Sure, it’s Anakin’s last year eligible to be in the Games. Sure his nineteenth birthday is in two weeks, at which point he would become too old to qualify as a child to the Capitol, but what’s done is done.

Obi-Wan will be his mentor, because Obi-Wan has been the mentor for District Four ever since he won his own Games seven years ago when he was sixteen and Anakin was twelve.

That year’s known unofficially as the most boring Games in Panem history, but the Capitol loves how handsome Obi-Wan’s grown to be. So what if he didn’t kill his competitors messily or with a bloodthirsty joy? He’s so polite in his interviews all these years later, and look at those dimples!

It makes Anakin sick, every time Obi-Wan has to leave District Four and travel to the Capitol to be fawned over and stroked and used. His nightmares are always worse the weeks after he gets back, and he never lets Anakin hold him during them.

And it’s even worse during the actual Games, when Obi-Wan is put in charge of two children’s lives only to see them brutally murdered on screen a week later. The cameras always show his reaction when the competitors from District Four die. They must think he cries pretty or something.

Anakin hates the Capitol. He hates them for what they’ve done to Obi-Wan. What they’ve made him into

As he gets close enough to the stage, he notices that Obi-Wan’s hands are shaking slightly.

He doesn’t even listen to the name of the girl being called. She’s not important. She’ll be dead in a few days time. What’s important is Obi-Wan. What’s important is comforting him, is reassuring him. Is coming back to him.

This is the moment when Anakin resolves that these Games will become known as the quickest in history.

---

The girl is understandably sullen and upset on the train. “I should get a different mentor!” she demands. “It’s obvious you’re going to play favorites with him.”

Anakin doesn’t snap back because she’ll be dead in a few days. Though she really shouldn’t use that tone with Obi-Wan.

“I’m not playing favorites,” Obi-Wan insists. “I don’t have favorites.”

“You literally just wiped sauce off his mouth with your finger,” the girl points out. “And then he licked it!”

Anakin smirks at her. Of course Obi-Wan has favorites. Of course Anakin is Obi-Wan’s favorite. It took him years to wear down Obi-Wan until he allowed him this close, and years after that until he finally got to kiss him for the first time, just a few months ago.

If she thinks he’s going to give up any of his Obi-Wan time so she can get her hopes up about not dying in a few days, she’s got another thing coming.

But Obi-Wan shifts away from him and he looks guilty.

If Anakin could get away with killing the other person from his district, he would. But it’d probably make Obi-Wan sad.

“Is whining part of your strategy?” he asks waspishly instead. “I don’t think it’ll make you many allies.”

She has the nerve to look offended.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan chides. Underneath the table, he squeezes his knee.

“Everyone in the district knows about you two,” she glares at him. “You haven’t exactly kept it a secret.”

Anakin hasn’t exactly tried to keep it a secret. The first night Obi-Wan had kissed him, he went straight home and told his mother, his neighbor, his schoolmates, his cat, and his ex-girlfriend.

(No one had been surprised, except maybe the cat.)

“It’s not fair,” she cries. “Who can I talk to to get a different mentor for me?”

“The ethics board,” Anakin smiles, all teeth, settling back into his seat and slinging an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, this time more exasperatedly. “Robin, I promise I will be the best mentor you can ask for. It is my wish to see you survive as long as possible in the next few weeks.”

The girl jumps to her feet in outrage. “You can’t even say you want me to win!” she yells. There are tears at the corners of her eyes. If she were a little less annoying, Anakin would feel quite bad for her. Obviously Obi-Wan doesn’t want her to win. Anakin’s right here.

She storms out of the train compartment, her face in her hands. Anakin barely waits for the door to close before he’s slipping into Obi-Wan’s lap and throwing his arms around his neck with a groan. “God, I thought she’d never leave.”

He isn’t pushed away. Obi-Wan must realize they only have a handful of days left to be together before he goes into the arena.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says wearily, even as his arms encircle his waist.

Anakin presses a kiss to his nose and then another to his cheek. “It’s alright to have favorites, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs. “And she should know there’s no way she’s winning anything. Don’t waste your time.”

“I will do everything I can to make sure she survives as long as possible,” Obi-Wan repeats. “I don’t think I can survive anything else.”

Obi-Wan’s voice sounds shaky, so Anakin presses their lips together. Best not to talk for awhile.

------

“We should discuss strategy,” Obi-Wan says later that night through frantic kisses. “Sponsors, story, training--”

“I have a strategy,” Anakin murmurs back as he moves further down the bed, rucking up his partner’s shirt. “Win.”

----

“You look absolutely radiant,” Anakin tells the girl in an undertone while they’re in line for their interviews. She turns around to glare at him. The designer for their district has gone for the typical fish designs that people always associate with District Four, and they’ve dressed her up in a shimmering iridescent gown that flares at the ends like a fish’s tail.

Anakin’s own outfit is mostly a fishing net draped over one shoulder and a pair of tight pants. The designer, much to Obi-Wan’s embarrassment and Anakin’s satisfaction, had taken one look at his shirtless chest and decided to dress him in as little clothes as possible.

“Weird braid,” is all she says.

Obi-Wan had done it late last night when both of them had tired each other out and Anakin had curled up on his chest. After his Games, Obi-Wan’s hands like to do something. The repetitive motion of braiding and unbraiding Anakin’s hair soothes his demons.

It’s one of the reasons Anakin’s grown it out to his shoulders, much longer than is practical for his district.

Obi-Wan had gone to unbraid it, and Anakin had stopped him. He wanted to keep it. To wear it into the Games.

“Thank you,” he says generously. “I saw your score. 7’s not too bad.”

She sneers at him. “Did you celebrate your 11 with your boyfriend?”

“Oh sorry,” he winces. “Did you hear us? I’m just so bad at biting my tongue when he does this thing with his.”

She scoffs in disgust and turns back around. “I hope he has to watch you die.”

Anakin glares at her back. He knows he can’t kill her himself. But there has to be a way to hurt her and her chances and still have plausible deniability.

When it’s her turn for an interview, she’s vapid and pretty. She laughs and touches the interviewer’s arm.

“I’ve never spent much time in District Four,” the interviewer says jovially. “But tell me, really. Is everyone there as beautiful as the people you keep sending us? I mean. Obi-Wan Kenobi, ladies and gentlemen, am I right?” The audience laughs and hollers. Anakin hates them all. “And now you, Robin, and Anakin Skywalker. Damn!”

Robin--Anakin needs to stop forgetting her name--giggles high in her throat. “It was a very, very enjoyable train ride up,” she says with a stupid wiggle of her eyebrows. “Just this side of too long.”

The audience loses it.

Anakin loses it.

He can’t believe she’s sitting there publicly suggesting that Anakin shares Obi-Wan with anyone. With her. The nerve.

The camera pans to Obi-Wan in the crowd, who looks shocked, embarrassed, and deeply troubled.

Anakin won’t let this stand. He just hopes Obi-Wan forgives him.

The interviewer greets him excitedly when he walks out, and Anakin gives him a sheepish sort of smile.

“Lady killer Skywalker!” the interviewer says. Anakin laughs along with him. “All the girls back home must have been heartbroken to see you leave.”

“But I’ve heard they love watching me go,” he jokes with a charming smile. If that girl--Robin--can do it, he can do it much better. “There’s really only one person for me though,” he murmurs, letting his smile die.

“Oh?” The interviewer asks, leaning forward with interest.

“But sometimes I wonder if they’re only using me for my body,” he says, casting his eyes down. “I love them. Heart and soul, everything I am. But when I told them, they just laughed.”

This is technically true. The first time Anakin had told Obi-Wan that he was in love with him, the older boy had laughed his confession off, saying he was too young to know what he wanted.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” the interviewer sighs theatrically. “So your plan is to win the Games and then win her heart when you get back home?”

Anakin makes himself look sad. Tragically sad. Like he can’t bear to go on.

“They came with me,” he says.

If the audience’s reaction to Robin’s fake confession was huge, its reaction to Anakin’s words is even bigger. Of course they think he’s talking about the girl. That’s exactly what Anakin had wanted. Now he’s the broken-hearted boy and she’s the vapid, self-absorbed bitch. She'll have a hard time finding sponsors now.

It’s very, very hard to hide his smile, a task made exponentially more hard when he sees Obi-Wan bury his face in his hands.

“It’s alright,” Anakin tells the interviewer, without taking his eyes off of Obi-Wan. “I’ll survive.”

#asks #hunger games au #anakin's a bit dark here lets be real i love writing him like that #his games are the quickest games for sure #he does lose his right arm #but he wins #and then moves in with obi-wan #and obi-wan kisses every mechanical finger of his hand before bed each night #anakins just so heartbroken over the death of the girl #that he leans on obi-wan to help in the aftermath #(the story he'll tell the capitol people)#thank god his friend obi-wan is such a strong rock in these times #he has to write the girl's name on his hand so he doesnt forget it #the capitol thinks its so he can carry a piece of her with him into the games #shes furious but how is she gonna set the record straight without admitting to lying herself?#she started it anakin was just finishing it #bitchy dark obsessed anakin my love #obi-wan would be just as obsessed remember #he spends anakins games avidly watching and worrying and going around trying to get sponsors for him #but like within 50 hours the games are over anakin won #obi-wans gotta call everyone back and be like 'um never mind haha'#prompt fill #obikin

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rukia-writes · 3 years

Text

Sugar Daddy! Shanks x Sugar baby!Reader

Setting: modern au

Plot: Billionaire Shanks is sugar daddy to a beautiful professional cheerleader and spoils her quite a bit. Financially and sexually.

Warnings: 18+ no minors 🔞, rough sex, daddy kink, uniform kink.

a sweet face.

Everything started with a familiar red haired man needing a new face for his highly prosperous company worth billions at the very least.

A few models came to mind and so did a few athletes.

In truth, a lot of people wanted to be the new face of Shanks company and Shanks interviewed the exhaustive list personally with his fellow board members.

But there was one that caught his attention.

A upcoming professional cheerleader.

Shanks thought she was perfect with her bright attitude and smile.

If Shanks couldn’t have her as the new face of his company he definitely wanted to get to know her personally. As luck would have it, when the CEO offered the idea of having her as the new face to the board members they all agreed.

Shanks could have just went ahead and pushed everything thru but he wanted a second opinion, plus his friends were on the board committee and he valued their opinion. From there, the two had a friendship of sorts. Shanks being the friendly wealthy friend and being there for her whenever she needed anything until a night of passion changed everything.

This night is when Shanks and (Name) started their unique relationship.

Shanks offered to be her sugar daddy and to provide her with whatever she wanted, it was an offer (Name) didn’t want to refuse. While it was very beneficial for both parties the two didn’t notice how close they were becoming over the next months.

In the VIP area, known as the luxury box a group of wealthy men were watching the game from several television screens, drinking expensive and not so expensive alcohol while either sitting on the lounge chairs or getting alcohol at the bar.

The tall and handsome billionaire was drinking with his friends, it was a big game after all and he needed some downtime.

Is what it seemed to everyone.

But in truth, Shanks was there to see his beautiful cheerleader that he had been with for little over a year now and the cheerleader had stolen his heart.

Spoiling her was now a everyday thing.

While partying the red haired man would look at the television screen whenever she was on the screen, absolutely loving it when she wore her cheerleading outfit.

Shanks really enjoyed seeing her in that.

Benn Beckman was the only one suspected that Shanks had someone, he didn’t know his boss had a sugar baby. Today, however while the two were playing cards he noticed his boss would look at the screen at certain times and every-time he noticed a certain cheerleader was on screen.

“Interesting game isn’t?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, it’s going to be a good game.”

Shanks was kindly caught off guard by Beckman asking just a simple question. From then on Shanks tried to make his little secret not so obvious. Shanks gave her allowance her every month, a rather nice allowance every-month.

In all honesty, (Name) could have retired from cheerleading but she truly loved the sport. Shanks wanted to see her practice but was too busy with work to watch, instead Shanks was fortunate to see a more intimate version of (Name)’s practice moves.

Shanks fell in love with that.

(Name) was falling in love with red haired man not because of his money but how sweet and thoughtful he was, the sex was an added bonus.

On the football field, (Name) was shy as she and the millions of others watched the new commercial that Shanks company had just finished on the huge television screens that the stadium had. The audience was cheering and (Name)’s teammates hugged and cheered her as well.

A sure fire hit.

Still, all the attention she received was a bit overwhelming but it was also a good feeling.

Once the game was over news-reporters were all over the cheerleaders and football players, not to mention all the high rollers that attended the game.

“What’s your relationship with Shanks?!”

“What was it like making the commercial?”

(Name) and Shanks were bombarded with questions from the paparazzi and news reporters. It was all new for the new cheerleader as she tried to answer all their questions, however for the CEO it was just another day.

Shanks did get a surprise from the cheerleaders as the head captain wanted to take a picture with the wealthy CEO and his board, one big group picture for the major new reporters seeing as how they would be talking about the games for the next week.

It was supposed to be harmless group photo.

However, the CEO had to have a little fun with his sexy sugar baby.

While the group was huddled up close together smiling for the camera Shanks and (Name) were hugging side by side just like everyone else, Shanks slowly eased his hand from the small of (Name)’s back to her ass causing her to hold in her gasp and hide her surprise all while trying to smile like a crazy person.

Shanks had an perfect smile in the photo however, mainly because he was secretly laughing.

it was rather late when (Name) made it over to Shanks’s home and she let the man know just how she felt about his little stunt that he pulled. Not that Shanks cared much as he played as though he didn’t know what she was talking about with a big grin on his face.

“Okay then, if this is the game you want to play. No sex tonight.”

(Name) had her arms crossed to her chest with a smile on her face with her cheerleading outfit still on, the news made Shanks lose his grin fairly quickly and his tune changed completely.

“Now wait a second, it was-I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh yeah? I have been wanting to go on your yacht here lately with my friends.”

Shanks grimaced while thinking of an answer, his yacht that he just purchased was not just expensive but was custom made and it was his “toy”. (Name) knew this as she was there when it was finally finished.

“My yacht huh?”

“Yes, a all girls vacation.”

A heavy sigh left Shanks as he scratched his head as he thought about the situation, (Name) didn’t have to as she knew Shanks most likely wouldn’t go for it and would come up with another solution but it was entertaining to see the CEO thinking and softly talking to himself.

“Fine, we have a deal.”

Shanks extended his head for (Name) to shake but the cheerleader was surprised that the man agreed as she looked at his hand then back to him. Shanks gave her a look that conveyed “shake my hand.” But (Name) hid her hand behind her back while Shanks was a bit confused.

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s your precious yacht.”

“True, but having you for the night is more valuable.”

Shanks responded calmly responded back to the now bashful cheerleader who was turned on by Shanks’s words and the man didn’t even realize until a few seconds later as a sly smile came to his face.

“Come on, shake on it.”

Shanks teased as he waited for his sugar baby to shake his hand and with a smile she finally shook Shanks’s hand.

That same hand that (Name) shook Shanks’s hand with would leave scratch marks down his back.

it was a good thing (Name) had good stamina with flexibility as Shanks had her in various in positions throughout the night, his thick cock stretched her and his lengthy cock filled all her pussy leaving little to no room with her legs on his broad shoulders as he savagely hit her g-spot over and over again.

The room was filled with (Name)’s shameless moans and even when she covered her mouth to muffle herself as she took all of Shanks’s cock but the man removed her hand from her mouth and held down her wrist to the bed as a little chuckle came from Shanks when he did this and when he heard her whimper his name he teased her by saying her name in a teasing voice. Which only made the him moan as he felt her tighten on his cock making his cock twitch a few times inside her achingly needy cunt.

“Say it. Say it for me.”

Again.

Shanks was teasing her as she knew what Shanks meant and she moaned his name quickly this time in a “don’t make me say it.” But since the first time Shanks heard her say it he wanted to always hear her say it everytime he was deep inside her. Whispering “I’ll stop fucking you if you don’t say it.” (Name) begged him not to as she knew Shanks would keep to his word. “Give me more, daddy.” The headboard made one “bang” noise followed by several more as (Name)’s whimpers and moans echoed throughout Shanks’s room as Shanks muttered “mine” and “that’s fucking right” over and over as he rutted his hips against hers as his cock already leaking pre-cum inside her cunt.

Shanks practically had his way with her as (Name) gave herself over to lust and her desires. Not caring if she sounded like a porn star all that mattered to her was the mind numbing orgasm that was rising, Shanks did manage to kiss her on the cheek and instead holding her wrist down he held her hand.

Before long, Shanks was now moaning as he felt his own orgasm arriving while muttering “so good” and “you like that, huh?” The way (Name) felt on his cock made Shanks say things he normally wouldn’t, he could only describe the feeling of when he fucked his sugar baby as perfect.

She was perfect.

When both reached their orgasm Shanks knew he was in love with his sugar baby as his cock twitched excitedly inside (Name)’s cunt filling it to the brim as she did a small shiver at the feeling as she tried to catch her breath and regaining composure while thinking to herself Shanks really was a beast in bed and the perfect sugar daddy.

A perfect man.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes..I’m okay. That was amazing.”

(Name) complimented as she steadied tried to catch her breath but gasped when Shanks slowly seperated her legs down and pushed them down far as they could go testing out her flexibility as he had been all night with a devilish smile on his face.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, but we are not done baby girl. Far from it.”

A soft “oh god” left (Name)’s lips.

While (Name) had the flexibility, Shanks had the stamina.

A few weeks later, Shanks was in his office on break when he received a text message from his sugar baby which put a smile on his face. Especially when he saw that the text message was actually a video.

Shanks watched (Name) doing some of her practice moves in her cheerleading uniform making him hot and bothered already as he caught glimpses of her black briefs as she spun in her mini skirt.

At the ending, (Name) blew a kiss in the camera and then winked followed by saying, “I hope you like my moves, daddy. See you later.”

Shanks was caught off guard as he almost dropped his phone on the floor and quickly replaying the last few seconds…

Over and over.

Shanks did take a break only to give his sugar baby a surprise gift of not only more money but to order her yacht and he then went back to watch the video.

✨Rukia-Writes✨

#shanks x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #shanks x y/n

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Sound Conclusions

Rating:Explicit

Words: 3975

Author: SisterSpooky1013

Tagging @today-in-fic

Find it on AO3

*********************

2000

She hadn’t expected that her desire for him would only increase after she’d had him once. That first night, emboldened by loneliness and a little red wine, she’d found the courage to reach for him, to lean in to his desirous gaze, to walk them slowly to her bedroom between fervent kisses. It was an itch to be scratched, something that you could anticipate fading away once sated, but it hadn’t. Perhaps that was because it had exceeded even her most graphic fantasies about how it might be, the slip of his fingers inside her igniting nerve endings that her vibrator had never located when she had imagined his touch. The grip of his palms on her hips as she writhed, gasping, in his lap a detail she had never known to conjure. The depth of the growl in his throat when she told him she was going to come vibrating through her bones was a memory she couldn’t shake. The smell of his cum in her panties hours after he’d left her apartment had her breathless, wanting him again already, somehow more than she ever had before she knew the taste of his saliva and the scratch of his stubble against her nipples.

They’d arrived to work the following day and acted as though nothing had happened, pretending not to feel things being one of her specialties. She worked hard to mask the new way her pulse quickened when he touched her back, the visceral response she had to the smell of his breath when he leaned in to whisper a snarky comment during their weekly division briefing. She found herself getting lost staring at his hands while he took notes, remembering the way they stroked her insides, and then blushed when he asked her if she was okay. She knew, without a doubt, that she wanted him again. If he at any point had offered to take her right there on his desk, she wouldn’t have been able to say no. And yet, she was so careful to avoid giving him any indication of this, feeling embarrassed and guilty for such wanton desires, for objectifying her partner like this. The Catholic guilt a wet blanket on her newfound lust, suppressing her into the polished, poised, sexless FBI agent she had spent so much time working to be. Weeks passed, her need for him coursing through her veins like a drug, intoxicating her to the point she often forgot terms and concepts that she normally recalled easily, again prompting him to inquire as to whether she was feeling alright, noting that she didn’t seem like herself.

She wasn’t herself. She was a woman obsessed and fixated, aroused by the casual brush of a hand or the timbre of a laugh. She was sitting on the edge of a precipice, teetering between control and absolute abandon. Normally so securely in the driver’s seat of her own body, she was unnerved by the feeling that she barely had a grip on the wheel, that at any point she might let go and crash into him, revealing the truth that she needed human contact and sexual release just as much as anyone did. The vulnerability in that need made her feel unhinged.

She found herself trying to entice him, concurrently hating herself for stooping so low. She left an extra button on her blouse undone, put a switch in her hips when she walked ahead of him, brushed her own fingers across the skin of her neck in a way that would be unnoticeable in anyone else, but she caught him noticing from the corner of her eye. When she anticipated that he’d come by her apartment, she wore shorts or a low v neck shirt, forgetting a bra or sitting cross legged to reveal the milky insides of her thighs, inviting him, wordlessly, to taste them. Sometimes she thought she saw a flash of desire in his eyes, but he always composed himself quickly, sometimes making an excuse to leave. She didn’t know what to make of the fact that he hadn’t tried again, that even when she did something as overt as leave her bedroom door open when she changed, he chivalrously averted his eyes. She realized it was unfair to expect him to understand, to know, what she wanted. Even if he did pick up on her painfully subtle, and occasionally obvious, signals, that didn’t mean he returned her feelings. Perhaps that night had been a mistake in his eyes, a slip up never to be repeated. The possibility that he would reject her if she risked reaching out to him again was enough to hold her back from doing so. Though he had enthusiastically participated the last time, that did not preclude him from having regretted it once it was over.

Now she stood before his closed apartment door on a Friday night, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. Not because she was nervous, but because she was on fire. Her pelvis twitched and her spine arched at the idea of being near him in a private space, where the possibilities that ran through her mind all day seemed more plausible. He’d invited her over for dinner and a review of some possible cases they might take on, so they could plan how to spend their time the following week. Since he’d made the proposal that morning, she’d convinced and then talked herself out of his ulterior motives countless times. She knew that working herself up into thinking that something would happen made it even harder, and she heard her grad school professor’s voice in her head saying “expectations are premeditated resentments, Dana.” Gathering her composure, she took a moment to hike her breasts up in her push up bra and tug her jeans up over her hips so that they were snug against her ass. She’d finally settled on jeans and a green T shirt, which felt appropriately casual, but she’d selected a shirt that was a little too snug and a little too low cut, jeans that were half a size too small and slung low on her hips. If she were to bend over the flesh of her back would be exposed, which gave her a tiny thrill. Any stranger on the street would never give her outfit a second glance; it was painfully basic and unremarkable. But for buttoned-up, proper Dana Scully, it was reckless and suggestive. She may as well have been wearing lingerie for how sexy it made her feel.

Putting on her game face, she knocked. From inside the apartment he called “it’s open” and she let herself in, setting her purse on his cluttered dining room table and scanning the adjacent rooms to locate him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor the living room, and she found herself standing in the doorway of his bedroom, eyes roving over his naked chest and belly, a towel slung low on his hips and his hair spiked and wet from the shower. She smirked a little, wondering if this were intentional. Given her recent antics it seemed entirely possible, so she took a risk and didn’t look away, allowing him to see her rake her eyes over him appreciatively, finally reaching his face where a knowing smile played at the corner of his lips. Those lips. She sighed and smiled back at him, and he glanced down her body and back up before saying “hey.”

“Hi” she returned, suddenly feeling shy. She averted her eyes and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll be out in a minute, this isn’t what I was planning to wear.”

“That‘s too bad” she said in her head. “Okay” is what came out of her mouth before she turned and went to sit on the couch, tortured by the knowledge that he was naked on the other side of the wall. Was she supposed to take that as an invitation? Was he trying to send her signals just as much as she was him? She suddenly remembered why she didn’t bother with dating; all the guesswork was exhausting.

He emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later in a black T shirt and jeans, his feet bare. He looked freshly shaved. “I ordered Italian” he said, sitting down beside her, only a sliver of space between the sides of their thighs. “Should be here in about an hour, they were really busy.” He smelled like soap and his old spice deodorant, mint on his breath. She figured he had played basketball after work and that explained the shower, but did he normally shave and brush his teeth before dinner? Her expectations were weaseling their way into her thoughts again. Stop, she told herself.

“Do you want a beer?” He asked, and she said yes a little too quickly. He opened a beer for each of them and she sipped it steadily, welcoming the way it would smooth the edges of her thoughts but not wanting to appear as though she were planning to get drunk. Mulder was a gentleman beyond gentlemen and wouldn’t dream of touching her if he thought she were incapacitated in any respect. This was a fact she appreciated generally, and resented presently.

They dug into a thin stack of case files, each leaning forward with their elbows braced on their knees. She watched out of her periphery to see if he was looking down her shirt, and bit her cheek to keep from smiling when she saw that he was at regular intervals. Within about 20 minutes they narrowed it down to three cases they’d dig into on Monday, revealing the fact that an entire evening together wasn’t necessary for such a task, but they were both grateful to set the case files aside and just exist outside of suit jackets and basement offices. Scully was sitting sideways, cross legged, with her back against the arm rest, her toes grazing Mulder’s leg as he sat beside her, his torso twisted slightly to face her. She held her nearly empty beer bottle in her hands, picking at the corner of the label with her fingernail.

“So” he said. She felt the prick of anticipation and the hairs on her arms stood at attention, on guard for whatever might come next.

“So” she responded, because what else was she to say?

He studied her intently, his hazel eyes traversing the terrain of her face, darting from eyebrow to lip to nose, searching her for something. Finally the unbroken attention made her so uncomfortable that she was willing to speak.

“What?” She asked him, keeping her tone neither accusatory nor annoyed, simply curious. “What are you thinking about?” it conveyed, without saying as much.

He took a deep breath and exhaled it forcefully. “Was it a mistake, what happened? Do you think of it that way?”

His speaking of the unspeakable caught her off guard and she felt her face flush immediately. “No” she said, but she couldn’t meet his eye. “No, I don’t think of it that way.”

“What was it then? One time thing? Random fluke?”

How he was able to speak so directly about such fraught topics was always a marvel to her. She opened her mouth to speak once, twice, but closed it again each time. What she wanted to say was that she didn’t know what it was supposed to be when she initiated it, but the second it was over she wanted it to be part of her daily routine, like brushing her hair. Finally she gave him a tiny shrug and an “I don’t know.” She hated herself for making it seem like she didn’t care, but she didn’t know how to be honest without sounding like a teenager with a crush.

He studied her face again, and she self consciously fussed with her hair, looking at anything but him. She could feel him thinking, strategizing. She could only hope his strategy ended with her naked in his lap, but she also realized that if that were to happen, she would have to make more of an effort outside of simply not getting up and leaving.

“Do you want it to happen again?” He asked, and she laughed out of surprise, biting her lip but not answering. She lifted her eyes to meet his and her stomach clenched when she saw the stoic expression on his face, his eyes full of self-doubt. She was an asshole for making him think for a second that she didn’t want him. They lingered there, locked in an impromptu staring contest, until Mulder reached out and took the empty beer bottle from her hands and set it on the coffee table. He then lightly grasped her wrist in one hand and pressed the middle and forefinger of his other hand to her pulse point. She knew what he was doing. Her heart, which was already racing, sped up to something resembling the beat of hummingbird wings. After a moment, he removed his fingers and brought his lips to kiss the spot they had just vacated.

“I realize things like this are hard for you to talk about, and I know you well enough to know that if the answer were no, you would have told me as much and high-tailed it out of here. So I’m going to take the fact that you’re still sitting here, as well as the fact that your heart is working triple time, to mean that it would be acceptable if I were to kiss you right now. Is that a sound conclusion?”

“It is” she said in a near whisper, every cell in her body reaching out for him like he was magnetized. They were still locked in eye contact, though with this new understanding it had shifted from awkward to intimate.

They both jumped at the sudden pounding on the door. “Marinos!” Someone called out from the other side, and Mulder stood and went to grab his wallet. While he was gone, Scully let out a breath she felt like she’d been holding since she got here, and stood to use the bathroom. She studied her face in the mirror, sniff-checked her armpits, freshened up to be sure there were no errant toilet paper shreds clinging to her anatomy. When she opened the door, she found Mulder standing on the other side, waiting. She gave him a confused but also amused look.

“Hi” she said around a shy smile.

“Welcome back” he replied with a cool bravado, then stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands, drawing her in to a sweet kiss. She sighed into his mouth, the relief after weeks of tension pooling at her feet. She brought her hands to his neck and used his weight as leverage as she leaned her body against his, wanting him closer. In return, he stooped to grab the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. It was still light out, and without the cover of darkness or the clumsiness of a first time, she felt more powerful and in control. She knew he wanted her, and she knew what she wanted from him. He stepped the few feet towards his bed and gently lay her down, moving to plant kisses along her neck. Pushing the bottom hem of her shirt up to expose her belly, he asked “is this okay?” And she replied “you don’t have to ask, you can do whatever you want.”

“Fuck” he breathed. It was an expression of excitement, and nervousness, and amazement that she trusted him so perfectly, and wanted him so completely.

She sat up and he pulled her shirt off over her head, deftly un-hooking her bra before she slipped it down her arms and threw it over the side of the bed. He sucked a nipple between his teeth and she gasped, her hips bucking into him, her head falling back. He repeated it on the other breast and she whimpered, to which he pushed the bulge in his jeans against her thigh, seeking relief. She pulled at his shirt, signaling him to take it off, and he did in a split-second maneuver, not wanting to stray from his task for a moment longer than he had to. Kissing down her belly, he unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them forcefully off her hips and down her legs. His actions were desperate and hungry; he couldn’t wait to get at her, and she could not wait to be gotten. When he went to pull her panties off they ripped under his urgency and he tore them away, hooking his arms under her knees and pressing his face into her vulva as he drug her to the end of the bed.

“Jesus Christ” she called out, her hands threading into his hair as he lapped at her hungrily. She could not believe the speed with which she approached orgasm. She would never have described herself as someone who was easy to please in bed, and yet he seemed to locate every pleasure point on her body with admirable ease, slipping a finger inside her to massage her G spot as he sucked on her clit. She felt herself falling over the edge and she hung there deliciously long, the point of release laying across her like a blanket until it crashed against her like a wave.

“Oh, I’m gonna come” she pleaded, the sound more breath than words, as if he didn’t already know from his position on the seat of her orgasm that it was happening. She came for an eternity, unaware of her own sounds or movements, existing only within her body and beneath her pleasure. He stayed with her, teasing out every throb she had to give, running his rough hands over as much skin as he could reach, until she was sated, and lie still and quiet. He rested his head on the inside of her thigh and waited for a signal that she was ready to return to Earth. After a couple minutes, she spoke.

“Holy shit.”

He laughed, and crawled up to lie next to her, tucking his nose into her neck and placing tiny kisses all over her chest.

“I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that I am completely naked” she said, a mix of self-consciousness and humor in her voice.

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down and then back up the length of her body. “You most certainly are” he said matter-of-factly, and she wrapped her arms across her chest in mock-modesty.

“You tore my underwear” she accused him, and he shrugged.

“Do you want to tear my underwear as payback?” He thrust his hips against her gently, and she was reminded that he had yet to be touched.

“Perhaps” she said against his lips, biting the lower one gently, signaling that they were not yet done. As she kissed him, she reached for the button of his jeans and flicked it open before easing down the zipper. He shifted up a bit to give her better access and breathed a low moan when she slipped her hand into his pants and grasped his erection.

“Mulder, I can’t help but notice that you’re not wearing underwear”

“Maybe if you’d had the same idea I wouldn’t have needed to rip them off” he teased breathlessly.

She pushed his jeans down and he stood to remove them before rejoining her, curling his naked body against her side as she resumed stroking him. “Come here” she directed, moving her leg aside to make space for his body. He hovered over her, their tongues dancing between their mouths as he thrust against her belly. She lifted her knees towards her chest and reached down to grasp him, brushing the head of his cock against her slick lips. He hummed and mumbled words she couldn’t understand, until she guided him inside her and he said “fuck.”

“Watch your language, Mulder” she chastised playfully, and he thrust into her suddenly, eliciting a gasp.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt? He stilled, searching her face.

She shook her head with a sly smile. “Even if it did, that’s not always a bad thing.”

His eyebrows went up in surprise “I’m learning so much about you today” he mused, resuming his thrusts slowly.

“Likewise” she replied, but her breathing was growing ragged, their playful banter becoming unsustainable.

He quickened his pace, kissing her neck and lips, burying his face in her hair when it became too intense for kissing. Suddenly he stopped and withdrew from her, and she looked at him incredulously. “Where are you going?” A question she’d asked him hundreds of times in an entirely new context.

“I’m interested in seeing you in every position imaginable, however I’ve been thinking so much about last time and I’d really like you to be on top again, if you don’t object to that.”

“No objections here” she replied, moving so that he could sit at the head of the bed against the wall. The sun was setting and she felt a little less exposed in the fading light of the bedroom. She climbed into his lap and kissed him for a couple minutes as she teased him at her opening, shifting her hips so he’d slide by, but not enter her. When she finally sunk down onto him, he dropped his head back and moaned in delicious agony. She started rising and falling slowly, planting kisses on his neck and nipping at his earlobes. As his breathing quickened she changed her rhythm, keeping her body close against his and sliding back and forth. His eyes shot open and his head lifted to watch what she was doing, gripping her hips though he made no attempt to control her movements. He reached down between them to touch her clit and she pushed his hand away. “Too much” she panted. “This part is just for you.” He returned his hand to her hip and trained his eyes on the place where their bodies met, slack jawed and wide eyed as she flexed her pelvis forward and back. When she could tell he was close, she increased her pace until he closed his eyes, he tightened his grip on her and cried out. As he crested over the most intense point, he opened his eyes again and looked at her face, locking eyes with her in the dim light of his bedroom as he filled her with his hot cum, desire giving way to the deep affection they held for each other. She collapsed against him and they sat like that for a while until she felt his fading erection slip out of her and a rush of fluid followed.

“Shit!” She said, sitting up with a worried expression. “I forgot about that part.”

He made a face that set her off giggling, which caused even more to drip out of her and into his lap. “Gah, don’t laugh, Scully, that makes it worse!” His protests only made her laugh harder and he smiled at her jiggling breasts as she wiped tears from her eyes.

“How about a shower, then dinner?” He proposed, and she nodded, still regaining composure.

After a hot shower and a borrowed pair of boxer shorts, they sat on his couch eating reheated lasagna and smiling at each other. After Mulder cleared their plates, he sat back down beside her.

“So” he said.

“So” she returned. What else could she say?

“I’m going to take the fact that you’re still here and that you’re wearing my underwear as an indication that this wasn’t a two-time only thing. Is that a sound conclusion?”

“It is” she replied with a smile.

#the x files #xf fanfic #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #txf #sculder #gillovny

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j-minte08 · 3 years

Text

Why do I award BalanWonderworld as a masterpiece?

Introduction

⚠️I'm using a translator, so I apologize if any parts are difficult to read.

In this article, I will write about why I award Balan Wonderworld as a masterpiece, with answers to criticisms.

When I played the demo version, I thought this game was SO BAD. But I believed Yuji Naka and bought the full version. (Before I knew it, I had bought four of them...) I'm not raving blindly about it.

At first, I was hopelessly disappointed because nothing had changed from the demo version. However, in chapters 2 and 3, I was impressed by the three-dimensionality and beauty of the stages, and in chapter 4, I realized the comfort of gaining freedom through the acquisition of costumes.

By the time I was completely finished, I was convinced that this game was a great piece of work.

This is an article that I wrote after spending nearly 100 hours on this game.

I hope you will read it.

Main part

First of all, this game is not a game with flashy action as its primary objective. (Flashy battle action is possible in some scenes.)

【Puzzle】　【RPG】　【Exploration】

It is structured around these three main components.

The game also features a "Balance AI" that senses the player's movements and makes changes to the difficulty and world. There is also a presentation of my own work, so please take a look!

Please read with the above in mind.

■ One button action is stressful.

▶︎ As mentioned earlier, this game is not intended for flashy action. At its root, it is an RPG and does not require multiple buttons. The reason it's a simple operation is because it doesn't need to be.

There is only one button, but instead the player is given the freedom to select up to three actions of their choice. The way to play Balan is to find your own strategy within these constraints.

Some people point out that you can't jump, but only a few outfits limit jumping. Most of them are attack-oriented outfits. It's up to you to decide whether you want more attack power or more movement power.

If you're still not convinced, this game just isn't to your liking.(If that's you, I recommend the Wii version of Rodea.)

NiGHTS and Sonic are also action games with simple controls, but the concept is different from Baran, as explained below.

From the very beginning, NiGHTS and Sonic are one-button games that allow for exhilarating action. The action feels good and allows for improvement through trial and error.

However, Balan begins in a state of helplessness. One of his goals is to use his wits and eventually gain the power to run freely around the three-dimensional stage.

Freedom from discomfort. This catharsis is the best part of Balan.

It is also linked to the story's theme of opening closed minds.

■ The structure of the puzzle is sketchy.

▶︎ There is an intention behind this. By making the puzzle structure more flexible, the player is given more choices.

Therefore, each player will have a completely different solution to obtaining a single statue.

Also, each time you play the game, you will find new strategies, making it a game that can be played repeatedly.

This is the reason why Yuji Naka was so confident about this game.

Personally, I think that this action with a puzzle concept has a similar point of view to card games and rock-paper-scissors.

The Mega Man series is a typical example of a game that requires you to observe the situation and your opponent's movements to find the right technique and move. In fact, there is a famous episode where it was derived from rock-paper-scissors. This is also a game where you can enjoy improving through trial and error, but I think the structure of the rules is similar to that of Balan.

■ It's a pain to stock up on costumes.

▶︎ There is no need to overstock costumes. The minimum number of costumes needed to clear the course will naturally be available. Dependence on certain costumes can make the game monotonous. Also, the BalanceAI can sense your movements and take countermeasures.

As the difficulty level increases, you will have a hard time because the costumes will not come back.

The game is made more interesting by the style of play that allows you to use all the costumes to their fullest extent and bring out the true value of each one.

If you run out, explore the stage while collecting costumes. It may lead to new discoveries.

Even if you don't have a specific costume, there are many situations you can get through by applying other costumes.

This degree of freedom is what makes Balan so interesting. The strategy is left to your imagination.

■ The stage is curved. Isn't this a useless design?

▶︎ The curvature of the map allows you to see every corner of the stage. You may be confused because there is no other game that tries to do something like this. However, this is an ideal map for exploration games.

The basics of this gimmick are used as of chapter 1. Chapter 7, which has particularly large differences in elevation, makes good use of this gimmick.

■ The difficulty level is too low.

▶︎ Basics → Application → Review (Boss battle)

This game is designed to follow the above flow thoroughly. As a result, the difficulty level in the early stages is kept low, but the endgame is quite difficult. I almost lost my mind in chapter 12.

The bosses are easy to defeat. However, it is difficult to conquer all three strategy patterns.

Also, if you keep defeating enemies quickly without taking damage, the difficulty level will increase.Stronger and faster enemies will appear in large numbers.I found the difficulty level increased at chapter 3.

In other words, the difficulty of the game depends on how good you are.

■ I want to have a HP separate from my costume.

▶︎ This system prompts the player to use a different costume in case of failure.

Depending on the situation, you can either sacrifice valuable costumes, or use inconvenient but well-stocked costumes... The game throws a variety of choices at the player. This gameplay becomes more apparent as the difficulty level increases.

If you separate the HP from the costume, this tense gameplay will be lost.

The system of choosing outfits based on what will happen next fosters the ability to think and survive on one's own. It will also help the child's ego independence.

■ I need more explanations and hints. It's designed in an unfriendly way.

▶︎ It's not a game that requires you to do anything difficult, so if you think about it, you should be able to understand it to some extent. All you have to do is immerse yourself in collecting statues by any route you can think of.

Some people criticize Balan for being old-fashioned, but they are missing the point.

Games are essentially content that teaches you to think and act for yourself. This is a posting of what games should be, and a refreshing return to the basics.

However, I don't mean to criticize modern games. The immersive feeling of being in a movie, and the friendly design of the UI that shows you where you are going so you don't get lost. I think it's a beautiful evolution for today's hectic world where it's hard to find time to be alone.

However, to be honest, it is abnormal to say that only works that follow the latest trends are evaluated, and it is difficult to say that there is creativity in such works. Evolving technology and the presence or absence of originality have completely different meanings.

I would like to say that games like Balan, which have their own rules and think for themselves, are what we need today.

■ I don't understand the story. I want subtitles.

▶︎ With both video and dubbing, the amount of information is extremely high. By not using real words, all the people in the world have the exact same experience. Very romantic, don't you think?

It's not to dismiss the unspoken parts as non-existent, but to let your imagination run wild and have fun with it.

Since ancient times, there has been an aesthetic in Asia that finds meaning in blank spaces.

If you want a more substantial story, I recommend the novel version, which probably has what you want. It is available for Kindle.

At the end

Balan Wonderworld is a game designed to grow with the player the more time they spend playing.

Despite its gorgeous visuals, the reality of the story is deep and Yuji Naka's philosophy shines through, making it a masterpiece that can be called a compilation of his work.

At first, you may find some scenes difficult or the system annoying. However, they all have a meaning and will make sense as you continue to play.

Balan is built on a very complete system.

EVERY MOMENT IS AN ADVENTURE... This tagline is true.

But the fact is that Balan is a very peaky game. But that's also true for Sonic and NiGHTS.

If you have enjoyed Yuji Naka's past works, you will surely understand the quality of Balan. I recommend that you take the time to face this game first without any preconceived notions.

Now that I've spoken highly of Balan, I'd like to offer some criticism of the official advertising.

I think the main reason for this failure was the poor choice of stages included in the demo version, which made it difficult to convey the fun of expanding the degree of freedom by acquiring costumes, the sense of freedom, and the fun of being able to create a number of unique strategies.

As for the official SNS, rather than introducing the costumes and the storyline by themselves, the official should have done a better job of showing how they are all connected to make this game interesting.

That's how it looked from my personal point of view, but I believe that the current situation is the result of continuous failures in the area of advertising.

I'm so disappointed that this masterpiece is being buried, and I hope that the officials will have the guts to turn its reputation upside down even now.

Hopefully, this game will get the recognition it deserves. I love Balan Wonderworld.

#balan wonderworld #game #square enix #game review #yuji naka #naoto oshima #バランワンダーワールド #playstation #bww #nights #nights into dreams #sonic #sonic the hedgehog

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taeescript · 3 years

Text

VI. Script of the Angel

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 2.3k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned.

𝔞/𝔫 >> there is a lot going on tumblr these days, and a lot of things just going on in life right now. i still hope to continue to share chapters with you although they may all be a little shorter than usual now. nontheless, i hope you enjoy (:

previous part || masterlist || next part

Wax – a diverse class of organic compounds which are hydrophobic, malleable solids at ambient temperatures. Typically containing melting points above at 40 C, they are obtained from multiple resources such as animals or plants. Wax can also be extracted chemically in petroleum. There are many uses for wax such as the manufacture of candles, final coatings on wood products and thickening agents amongst others. One of the most popular artistic use of waxes is the creation of statues from Madame Tussauds.

“Another what?” Jimin asks when he is dragged out of the interrogation room again by Namjoon.

“Dispatch just gave me a call. They want the homicide team on site because…well, you know the reason each and every time we’re called into site,” Namjoon runs his hand through his hair. The news had come as a shock to him as well. “You’ll have to release him, Jimin.”

Jimin shakes his head. “No, Namjoon. I was in the middle of something with him.”

“Jimin, be reasonable here! There’s another murder that’s been committed while you were here questioning him. It’s quite obvious that he couldn’t have killed this person.”

“I’m so close to cracking him!” Jimin yells in frustration. “Beside, how do you know he hadn’t gone and done this before he came in?”

Namjoon has to bite back his words.

“Fuck!” Jimin kicks the door. He doesn’t care that Jungkook could hear how angry he is on the other side. There really isn’t anything to hide between the two of them anyways.

After a minute, Jimin has calmed down. “I’ll meet you on site,” he says to Namjoon.

Namjoon doesn’t leave.

“Look, I promise, alright? I’m just going to send Jungkook off properly and then I’ll drive straight to the site. Text me the address,” Jimin says.

He only has one choice so Namjoon nods and leaves.

Once Jimin is left alone in the room, he punches the air blindly.

Jungkook sits calmly inside the room. It seems that luck is on his side. Perhaps whatever this case was would have Jimin off his back. It would be a little hard to continue any of his extracurricular activities if Jimin continuously monitors all his actions.

“You’re free to go, Mr. Jeon,” Jimin opens the door and speaks without looking at Jungkook.

Jungkook raises his hand and the handcuffs that link him to the table clang as metal hits metal.

Jimin walks up to him and opens the lock. Jungkook rubs his wrists and picks up his jacket on the way out.

“I really do hope you catch the killer, Detective Park,” Jungkook gives a light pat on Jimin’s shoulder.

...

Jimin recognizes her when he brushes under the caution tape onto where the rest of his team stands in a circle. It is not so much that he recognizes her facial features, but it is the outfit she is wearing. The same black and blue leggings.

“Fuck me,” Namjoon says the instance Jimin slides up besides him, “Fucking bat shitting balls.”

Yoongi has one hand placed over his mouth and his index finger pressing against his nostrils. There is a strange smell emitting off the corpse.

“A missing body part, again?” Jimin says. He swallows the bile that threatens to rise. The forensics team does not need to tell him what part is missing this time. It is glaringly obvious to the observer.

Replacing where it usually sits on the body is the head of another species – a buck’s crown with antlers and all. The girl is still standing although it is clear that she is deceased. Her body had been manipulated such that it looked like she was mid-sprint before being shocked by her attacker. She was a live manifestation of a deer caught in headlights.

“Let’s see if we can move her; bring her back to the lab for analysis,” Namjoon barks an order at the forensics team. They nod and move towards the body. Right as they put their hands on her, a loud voice yells,

“Don’t!”

It is too late, however. The team has already lifted her an inch off the floor. At his shout, they drop her immediately and that is when she crumbles, literally, at their feet. Jimin stands as her foot rolls in front of him. He stares at the shoe and foot that has been broken off at the ankle.

“Fuck!” Namjoon exclaims in alarm, jumping back.

Taehyung stands with his arms at his side, defeated. “You shouldn’t have tried to move her,” he mutters.

Namjoon’s face conveys both astonishment and confusion as stalks away to find somebody who could clean the body parts and move them back to the lab.

Jimin carefully tiptoes around the fragments of her body and walks up to Taehyung. “What the hell just happened?” he demands.

Besides being the team’s blood spatter analyst, he was an expert on a multitude of other subjects. “You saw how her body was positioned, didn’t you? Usually, victims are sprawled on the ground because gravity pushes on them, and their muscles have collapsed. She was standing. Something is keeping her muscles rigid post mortem,” Taehyung explains.

“Kim!” someone calls amidst the rubble. The victim’s body had been broken at most of the joints and a gathered team was currently packing each section in a bag.

Both Taehyung and Jimin walk up to the jacketed individual who had called out. She is bent over what looks like the forearm. A brown, semi-clear substance is pooling around the limb.

“This started seeping out all of a sudden. It’s happening to a couple of the broken parts, although most of the liquid is contained in the bags that we have stored them in,” she tells the two of them.

Taehyung bends down to examine the liquid. He is wearing gloves and when he extracts his fingers from the surface of the substance, it is slightly sticky between his index finger and thumb. He wipes his hand on a piece of tissue before slipping that into the bag as well. “Take that and all the parts back to the lab. If you can get a vial of the liquid to analyze, that would be helpful as well,” Taehyung told the assistant. She nods.

As the scene is being cleared, Taehyung walks back to the patrol car with Jimin. “What are you thinking about?” Jimin inquires, seeing that the gears inside Taehyung’s head are turning.

“Tell me, what’s the temperature right now?” Taehyung asks.

Jimin checks his phone and reports, “20 C, but with sunshine it should feel like 24 C.”

Taehyung takes note. “Slightly above room temperature,” he mumbles.

“What was that?”

“Slightly above room temperature,” Taehyung repeats louder. He stops walking and faces Jimin. “I’ve got a theory on what that is, but I can’t be sure yet. I’m going back to the lab and once results are out, I will call you immediately.”

Jimin nods. “I wanted to take a look around the site anyways. I’ll see you back at the station.”

Taehyung waves before leaving.

By the time Jimin returns to the crime scene, the majority of broken body parts have been cleaned. There is only a lone photographer who is packing up his camera into his bag. He greets Jimin with a slight bow on his way to leave the site.

“Any witnesses?”

Namjoon returns by his side. He shakes his head, answering Jimin’s question himself. “This is not a common runner’s route. It’s a short cut from the left side of the park to the right so not a lot of pedestrians know about it.” He sees how Jimin is still standing there with an unreadable expression on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks Jimin directly.

Jimin taps the bridge of his nose. “I know that girl,” he says softly, “Not personally. But I bumped into her before. It was at the park near our station. I also saw – ” His sentence is suddenly cut off.

“Saw what?” Namjoon asks further.

Jimin cannot continue his sentence. He knows what Namjoon will say already. Besides, if he really wanted concrete evidence against Jungkook, he must absolutely make sure that Jungkook was there at the park when the running girl was there. “Saw a red bird. I think it’s called a cardinal,” Jimin lousily finishes his sentence.

Namjoon gives him a strange look. “I’ve never pegged you as a bird watcher,” he comments.

Jimin shrugs. “I’m heading back to the station. Taehyung also says he has something on the possible C.O.D.,” he reports to Namjoon.

“You’re leaving me again to handle the crowd? That happened last time with Sara Michel’s case,” he groans.

Jimin shrugs again as if to say, “Sorry, what can I do?” He gives a reassuring squeeze on Namjoon’s shoulder before leaving.

This time, he is going to find unshakable evidence.

...

“Welcome back,” you smile at him when he enters the door. You are sitting at the table, pencil and sketchpad in front of you.

Jungkook smiles ever so slightly back before bending down to untie his shoes. They needed to be placed in their usual spot; if they weren’t, he would feel the irritation spread throughout his body until he went back to fix it. It is better that everything is perfect the way it is the first time.

After he has made sure that his laces were also tucked into the shoe as was his preference, he walks over to you. He can’t help but muse at how exquisite you look whenever the afternoon’s sunshine would brush through your hair. You are like a marble stature carved by the Greeks and placed on display in the middle of a garden. He moves his eyes over you like a curator would when assessing a piece.

You have your back turned towards him and do not hear when he walks behind.

“What are you drawing?”

Immediately, you stand and hold your sketchpad to your chest. It shields your work from his curious eyes.

“Something!” you blurt, your face flushing.

He cannot read why you are acting so strangely so he does what he always does around you: smile.

You clear your throat and tuck your disheveled hair behind your ear. “A package came for you. I left it in your room!” you say the tumbling words. It is your lame attempt in shifting his attention away from you to something else.

Thankfully, it works as he nods. He sends you a last playful smirk before making his way towards his makeshift bedroom. It is tiny, as you had originally used it as your storage room for your art utensils, but they had recently moved a mattress into the room for him and it helped that he did not have a lot of personal items with him anyways. The said package sits just beside the doorframe to his closed room, and he wonders again of whether or not you are scared of him. You never seemed to want to enter his room and insisted on speaking to him from outside in the hallway.

The package is not heavy and rather small in his hands. He is able to pick it up with one and balances it on his left palm as he opens the door. The blue walls welcome him into his small, personal haven. Carefully, he tiptoes his way between the old canvases and dried paint palettes. He passes by the yellow smudge on the wall and then collapses on the mattress in the back of the room. His suitcase squeaks as the wheels press against the body of the case while being wedged in the small space.

Once he is comfortably sitting cross-legged on the bed, he carefully finds a cutter and slices through the masking tape that conceals the contents of the cardboard box. The movement is as smooth and practiced as slicing through butter to him – a flick of the wrist. Once the tape no longer holds, he pries the flaps open. There is another small box tied with a red ribbon. A single white card is attached to the side. This is what he first takes out.

The envelope is embossed with a strange swirling design. He breaks the seal with another slice of the cutter, sliding out the cardstock letter. It had been written in elegant matching swirling cursive with a golden fountain pen.

“I’ve been waiting for you. Welcome to my town. A small home-warming gift.”

It has not been signed and Jungkook wonders if the writer was the one who wrote the words; each letter had been carved so delicately onto the material. He tilts his head as he thinks of who may have sent this to him. He has not told anybody that he is planning to stay in LA for the time being. He had never been one to open his circle of acquaintances and thereby it had remained small. Digging through his mind, he comes up empty-handed on any of the known possibilities.

Well, there is one person who definitely would not be the sender.

The bow becomes undone by a light tug from his fingers. It falls delicately onto his lap like a ribbon of red liquid. At that, the walls of the box fall easily to reveal its treasure, akin to the opening of an oyster.

His usual stoic expression becomes all the more frozen on his face when he sees what the gift is. Somebody has been watching him. Somebody knows about him. Somebody is out there.

For a single eyeball, pupil and iris augmented in aquamarine and azure hues, stares right back at him. The crystalline gift plucked so delicately from the girl who he had been planned as his next angel.

...

next part

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just-asks-and-answers · 3 years

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JUST ASKS OLD CONCEPTS | PT 2

I had originally planned on Just Asks being a comic! Independent of an askblog. I wasn't confident that I would get enough attention. Dynamics arc from the original FEAR Event was the only main arc I had thought of for the post-game.

As for the designs shown here, yes Rhythms original name was Beat HGFNGN- I had intended for each of their outfits to have a dangly piece of their clothing that would flow in a weightless kind of manner when they flew. Tempos was his scarf, Pitch I wasn't too sure if I wanted it to be his cape or like??? Ribbons??? Around his wrists??? Yeah I still don't know. Dynamics was the end of her jacket and Rhythms was the tails of her bandanna!

I had some basic character notes for them too! For the most part these concepts still do apply to the characters nowadays! Tempo is the confident leader, Pitch is chill, Dynamic is loud and rowdy and Rhythm is a sweetie! Of course, much has still changed.

Gijinkas!! Old ones at that! Rhythm had a couple names before settling on Rhythm clearly ehehe! Her name was Bass after it was Beat! Tempo and Rhythm have mostly been unchanged in terms of gijinka design. I think Blixers was really adorable to be honest EHEHE- Also o hey Isos.

From this point on these are all largely unseen doodles from after I started the blog! So this is where it gets a bit more familiar!

An ask was sent to Blixer and I was like AWW SHIT!! So for the school day that day I wanted to make a final version of his design. It's pretty close to the design I ended up going for. Torn leather jacket and jeans, leather boots and headphones. But I ended up removing the shoulder spikes, and adding one VERY important and iconic detail.

His head bandages! By this point I had been lurking around the Tumblr community on JSAB and seeing everyones different versions of the boss. Azzies really cute take with Beam. Roses bad boy take with Phae. Bigbys chilled out casual but still specific style by Astral. They'd have headphones or the little fragments around their heads but, I always wondered.. there was no sign or trace of annihilate alot of the time! Some would have massive scars on their head but I wanted to show mine a little differently! As well as also portray Blixer as someone who had been washed up. A defeated villain. The leather jacket he wore as New Game being torn up, having lost all of his flair.. and with the bandages to boot? I wanted to convey that even if he's this big, spikey monster, he's also.. defeated and miserable and pitiable.

Blixer was clearly bothered by it, but after making that promise to Dy, the guilt kinda came in strong. He did wish he could have that power again, but he promised Dy didn't he?

WELP. Guess Dy was right to be scared of him.

Man.. F to Pitch... and Dy.. and everyone for that matter! Yeah Blixer was supposed to go apeshit and take over again. The eventual method he did this in was teaming up with the tower shapes, Into The Zone, Try This and Vindicate Me, since they still supported Blixer being the Ruler of Paradise. They had a HUGE concert in a nearby city, that the Quartet attended. Pitch played with them, completely unaware of his friends plans. When the signal was given, Zedd, Vinn and Ty completely shut the show down tight! Trapping the Quartet and the rest of the attendants while Blixer booked it for the Tree again. Pitch broke out and tried to stop him but.. alas.. it was too late :).

#just shapes and beats #just asks and answers

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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years

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Incorrect Order Chapter 5 (Nessian AU)

A/N: Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, an angry Nesta and a heart-broken Cassian

2094 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nesta had never been one for small talk but in his presence she spoke as if she was excellent in small talk. They spoke of all unimportant things and ended up forgetting the important stuff; their names. Again.

Feyre sent an invitation for her first anniversary party as she did for every other occasion. The only thing different was that Nesta never bothered to pay heed to her invitations before. After the day in the alley, however, she decided she was going to turn over a new leaf. This was her first step.

She checked her reflection on the side-mirror. She tried to keep her outfit and make-up as simple as possible. She only wore a white ruffled-sleeved blouse with a black pencil skirt. Her hair was braided into a coronet. She looked good, but not as good as she’ll look if she took her own time to do a detailed make-over. She let out a breath and braced herself for the inevitable little chat with her sisters.

“Nesta?” a bewildered voice breathed. She whirled around to face her younger sister, Elain, looking up at her, a small smile playing about her lips. “You’re here,” she said and flung her arms around Nesta. Nesta automatically wrapped her arms around Elain’s smaller frame. Eventually, Elain pulled back.

“No offense, but I really thought you wouldn’t be coming,” Elain said.

Nesta felt as if the smile on her face couldn't be wiped out for the next few hours. “Honestly, I didn't think I'd come either. But here I am.”

She nodded and pulled Nesta to the garden the party was held at.

“I did this,” Elain said. “This garden, I planted and groomed all this.”

“No wonder why it looks so beautiful,” Nesta replied.

She flushed and said contemplatively, “You're so different now, Nesta.”

“I hope in a good way. Where's Feyre?”

“Let's go meet everyone first.”

Nesta shook her head. “I— I need to talk to both of you before I meet everyone else. ”

Elain hesitated then said, “Can you wait in that room? I'll fetch Feyre and come.”

Nesta nodded and headed to the door at the end of the garden Elain pointed at. The room was classy, much like the exterior of the house. She was struck by the simple yet grand theme of Feyre's house. She knew he and his brothers were rich but she just didn't understand the extent of their wealth. Till now.

“What are you thinking?” Feyre wasn't the type to blindly trust people. It took more than coming for her anniversary to persuade her that Nesta's intentions were good.

Nesta faced Feyre, her youngest sister, who stood before her, gorgeous yet fierce in a simple but elegant blue gown. She shrugged, “Just thinking that I'm glad my sisters were well-provided when I couldn't take care of them.”

Feyre’s face didn’t change, she just gestured towards the couches. “Have a seat,” she said.

Nesta sat down, “You both look splendid,” she said. Feyre said that the gown was a gift, Elain thanked Nesta and offered the same.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I need to tell the both of you something. Many things, actually.”

Elain nodded encouragingly. Feyre said, “Go on.”

So Nesta spoke. She apologised. For how she wasn't there to fulfill the role of an elder sister. For how she failed to attend Feyre's marriage and many other occasions. For all the rude words she spoke to them. For shunning them. She apologised for being self consumed. For everything else.

She also promised. To try harder. To become better. To be a good sister and sister-in-law. To be with them at all times, especially when they needed her. And they listened.

“I know these words aren't enough, but I'll try to make it so,” she finished, her hands clasped with both her sisters on her sides.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. We will too,” Feyre said.

“I see a very bright future ahead of us,” Elain said.

Nesta couldn't help the tears anymore. She folded her arms around her sisters and tucked them close. Her sisters. Her beloved sisters she now knew she'd do anything to protect.

“I see a very bright future too,” Nesta said.

Nesta pulled back after what felt like an hour and looked at her sisters' tear-streaked faces.

“I love you,” the three of them said simultaneously. Nesta giggled. Elain laughed. Feyre stared.

Nesta gently brushed the tears from both of their cheeks. “I don't want to see any of you crying.”

She hugged them again, willing the hug to convey everything she didn't say out loud.

“Now, now, enough snuggling. We've got a party to attend and people to meet, remember?” Feyre said.

***

Cassian was anxious. He had always hoped Nesta, his sister-in-law, would come for the gatherings they had; be it family dinners, or birthday parties, or the random meetings they had when they just got tipsy and played games. He hadn't seen her face-to-face before. All he knows about Nesta are from the descriptions from Feyre and Elain. That, too, was minimal. One of them would quickly change the topic to something pleasant the moment traces of an emotional breakdown were visible. Every time he hoped, he was let down. She never came. He vowed he would stop hoping and instead just go about and act as if she didn't exist. But that never happened. Every time his family met, his treacherous heart would start hoping only to have a chunk of it fall off when she failed to attend. Today was no different.

Then there’s the woman who he’d been talking to the whole afternoon. He was a tangled up mess of emotions and doubt and confusion. He had been sort-of pining after Nesta. She was exactly the person he’d like. Apparently she was drop-dead gorgeous, witty and… feral. Feyre said that. Feral. She’d be someone worth seeing. She was totally a worthy opponent. It’d be fun. But the other woman? Mother above, she was ethereal. More than ethereal, in fact. Words can't contain what he had to say about her.

He was damn near killing Az for calling him right when they were about to exchange names. He really can't believe he was a hairsbreadth away from knowing her before it was all ripped away. Now they were back to square one. He didn't know anything about her.

Azriel clapped him on his back so hard that he almost stumbled and fell. Or probably that was because he was too distracted. “All good Somm?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he replied noncommittally. He busied his hands with re-rinsing the champagne flutes and wiping them clean again. He did this two times already. Still.

“Mood is sour today, Cass?” Az teased, mock-frowning.

“Nah,” Cassian said wryly, “it's as sweet as honeydew. Especially today, when my chat got interrupted.” He glared at Azriel.

“Now, now, that is a story for another day. For now though, I think I've got something that can cheer up your brooding self.”

“What is it?” he mumbled.

Az grinned. “Nesta is here.”

***

Feyre and Elain took Nesta on a quick tour around the house. Feyre’s paintings were hung on the walls throughout the whole house. Nesta grimly noticed that there wasn't a single picture of her. There were even paintings of their father whose heart had long stopped beating. But none of hers. If only she didn’t push herself away, Nesta would’ve been a happy part of her sisters’ lives.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Feyre took her hand in hers. Elain tucked herself to Nesta’s side, wrapping her arms over her slender shoulders.

Nesta already met Mor, a stunning blonde woman, and Amren, a slightly intimidating and short person. Now she only had to meet her brother-in-laws.

“Let’s go meet the boys!” Elain said brightly.

We walked back to the garden. Feyre seemed to get more and more elated the closer we got to the garden. Huh. Probably falling in love would do that to someone. Anyway, as long as her sisters were happy.

They stepped through the doorway. The garden was decorated with more banners and streamers hung on the back of chairs and on the low branches. Again, it looked opulent in a simple way.

There were three men in the centre of the garden, gathered around a table. They all were slightly similar, broad shouldered, tapered waists, muscular limbs. Three of them wore formal shirts and pants clinging to their frames. The one in the middle was Rhysand, she supposed. She smirked internally. Of course Feyre ended up with this guy. She's got a good taste. Must've gotten it from the oldest sister.

The one on the right, though. His figure felt familiar. Very, very familiar. She couldn't quite put a finger on it yet.

“The one on the left is Azriel, the one on the right is Cassian,” Feyre said, and Nesta nodded.

The boys must be really engrossed with their conversation. They hadn't noticed the three of them yet.

The guy she thought was familiar threw his head back and laughed. She gasped. That laugh. She'd know the laugh anywhere. Indeed, when he angled his face so that she could get a glimpse, she knew she was done for. She swallowed with much difficulty.

“I need to go,” she said quickly.

“Go? But— but we haven't cut the cake yet. It's still early. We've got lots more fun stuff,” Elain said.

“You said you'll try, Nesta. Only, this doesn't feel like 'trying',” Feyre said.

They sounded… hurt.

Mother above, I'm doing this wrong.

“Nesta?” Elain asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” Feyre added, “you look pale.”

“Y-yeah it's f-fine. Kinda. My head hurts,” she said, accidentally clutching her stomach. “I-I mean, yeah my head hurts. Very badly. I gotta go.” She looked helplessly at both of them. “I'm so sorry. I really am. It's just— I think I need rest. I'll recompense. Probably dinner in three days?” They both shared a look and agreed.

Nesta was already walking away. “Love you both,” she threw over her shoulder.

***

“Feyre!” Rhys called. He beckoned Feyre and Elain to the table. He didn't see Nesta.

Cassian lightly kissed Feyre on her cheek once they made their way to the table and said, “Gorgeous as always. Happy anniversary!”

Feyre grinned, but it showed traces of disappointment.

He frowned. “Hey, what's wrong?”

She just shook her head and mumbled, “Nesta.” Rhys's face hardened. His brother was never fond of Nesta. He said that she was why Feyre was always worried.

“Where's Nesta?” Az asked, craning his neck to see behind farther.

“She… left,” Elain pointed, revealing a figure disappearing behind the gates. A figure he knew all too well. Shitshitshitshit.

His head snapped back to his brothers. “That is Nesta?” he damn near shouted.

Rhys scowled, “Yeah.”

No wonder why she's so beautiful, he thought dumbly before running after her with a quick “I'll be back.”

***

Nesta was wrong. In all her happiness of being reunited with her sisters, she completely forgot how even a small thing can break one's smile. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She kept her calm demeanour, but inside, she was a raging storm of emotions.

One step in front of the other, she kept reminding herself.

She kept walking. Even when she heard footsteps. Even when the steps got louder. Even as he got close enough to cease running.

But not when he called her name. She halted. Locked up her emotions. She knew she shouldn't but she turned around anyway.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“Nesta,” he breathed. She tried to hold back her shudder. It was from the night air, she told herself.

“If you have nothing to say, do let me know. I'm not going to wait forever,” she said. Harsher than she intended to. But she didn't care, at least, that's what she told herself.

Cassian winked, “I'm honored you came, sweetheart. I'll pass the credit to my influence on you. ”

She ground her teeth against the truth threatening to fall off her lips. Yes, I came here because you made me happy. And I thought that if I tried, as I did with you, I can rebuild my relationship with my sisters.

***

Cassian did something stupid. He grabbed her hand. Her eyes snapped to his, burning with anger. Like the day they first met.

He gave her a crooked grin that he knew would drive her mad. Well, more than she already was. He tilted his head to the garden, “The party is that way, love.”

She snatched back her hand at continued walking. Like a fool, he followed. “I spoke to my sisters. Told them I won't be staying tonight. And that we'll have dinner in three day's time. Does that satisfy you? Now, can you stop following me?”

“Something's wrong. What's wrong, Nes?”

“One,” she ground out, “don't call me that. Two, I'm a grown-ass woman; I know how to take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter.”

“You did. That day,” he said quietly.

She whirled on him, “Is this you taking back favours? Because I'm not interested. You want money? Take it. Tell me your price and fucking take it! Don't tread on my heels because you helped me, okay? I've got way better things to do.” She paused, “And don't follow me, Cassian.”

She turned and stalked away.

You want money? Take it. 'Take it.' As if he were a beggar, asking for alms. As if they weren't laughing at each other's jokes not more than an hour ago. As if he didn't spend a week taking care of her as if she were a part of his soul. Maybe she was.

But that was before, Cassian thought as his heart cleaved into two perfect halves. No— it smashed to a million tiny pieces.

He waited till Nesta was out of his line of sight. He turned and walked back to the garden, leaving his heart behind.

taglist: @shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @ddsworldofbooks @irenethaleia @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella

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battle-of-roses · 3 years

Text

When Rome Burns : Part 1

TW : Logan Roy's A+ Parenting, Manipulative Logan

By @your-gay-cousin-clover

---

With a certain hint of trepidation, Tom starts dressing himself to meet up with Shiv in downtown New York. The plan was pretty simple for the day: meet up with Shiv, find a gift for her father, put on his best Midwest honourable fellow personality and charm the pants of all her family. He stopped for a moment in the middle of his bedroom, standing there in his white button up, boxers and black socks, biting his lip on whether to take the gold ring, he’d picked out a week ago, to the party. After all this time he had spent with her, ever since their whirlwind romance in Hong Kong, he was sure that she was the one for him. His soulmate, the-one-who-he-got, his loml. The question was of when?

The party would be a good place to propose. Lavish surroundings, her entire family, and a pretty pricey ring to show his commitment to her. All eggs in your basket, he’d say if- when she said yes. And it would all be fine and okay. He starts to daydream for a moment, his dreams flying higher than just becoming Logan Roy’s son-in-law, maybe he’d join in the business himself. He would swoop in, take over one of the main branches of Royco, maybe ATN and continue the family business until he had his own billionaire kids à la Shiv.

Beep! Beep!

His fantasies suddenly dashed down into the floor. He jerks and reaches to the phone on the table to receive the call. It’s Shiv.

“Hey honeybee,” he says in a sweet-syrupy tone that he hoped conveyed his affections accordingly.

“Where are you?”

He immediately frowns. Her tone is clipped sharp, a razor’s edge, threatening him to not speak a word off their usual script.

“I’m … ahh… just getting dressed. Oh, oh, how formal is the even supposed to be? Do you think I could sneak in a tartan tie pattern to impress your Dad?” He tries to detract from her irritation.

“The fuck, Tom? Don’t be silly. Just wear whatever you want, you’re not a pre-schooler. It’s a formal event, but don’t wear anything weird or embarrassing.” Her words just kick up a latent anger in him that he press down as per usual. It’s alright, maybe it’s her job that’s got her stressed.

He tries another jovial voice for a size. “Ok, love-,” he continues, but there’s no Shiv on the other side of the call. Just him and the dial tone mocking him.

Right.

Nothing weird or embarrassing.

He drops the ring into a drawer of his bedside table and shuts it close.

—

The day goes in its own pace and Shiv makes a hasty apology about her signal getting dropped in the elevator. He waves it off, he always goes. There’s no use holding on a grudge with his future-wife-to-be, on silly things like one too many passive aggressive words and brushed off endearments. And so, here he is now. Standing in the middle of an opulent penthouse living room, chatting pleasantries with Marcia, hands sweaty as he tightens his grasp on the gilded box with the watch.

It had been pretty expensive to purchase on his own. He and Shiv were comfortable, sure. But they - no, he wasn’t Olympus rich like the Roys, America’s number one conservative messiah. He hopes it’s enough. Enough for a job at ATN, enough for Shiv, above all, enough for Logan.

His fucking future hung on a balance because of a little ticking metal machine.

Ding!

There. The elevator’s number stuck still on their current floor and his breathing picks up. Everyone else collects around the door to waiting as the metal door open, but he stands back, alone. For a split second, he’s swallowed up in all the gold, gild and glamour around him and he simply can’t breathe.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of all this. No matter how brave, how much of a fucking asshole he pretends to be. He does not deserve to be here. He’s what? Got a few hundred thousand in his savings, while collectively in front of him stands the 3rd richest family in America. He just wants to bolt and never come back.

And in the same fleeting moment, the doubt hastily vaporises as Logan Roy himself steps into the view amidst loud yells of “Happy Birthday!”.

The moment he sees Logan, it’s something of oh, that echoes in his head. Like oh, he’s just an old man. And he indeed looks frazzled, startled by the sudden cheers. But he whispers something to Marcia, who takes his coat and hands it off to one of the numerous maids hurrying around the house.

And then he straightens up to face the crowd. There’s something in his eyes that makes Tom want to shrink back against the patterned wallpaper. Something fierce, something very calculating. He watches as Logan makes his way through the crowd of his children and nods absent-mindedly at everyone’s greetings.

“Shiv,” Logan says, turning to Shiv, his back to Tom “Where’s Wambsgans? I thought we invited him.”

Shiv’s expression falters for a second, perhaps debating whether her father’s joking or not. It’s clear, he’s not, when the beat of silence extends between them. She smiles back again, radiant. And gosh, Tom loves her so much.

“He’s behind you, Dad!”

Tom didn’t have much time to be mortified as Logan turned to him and stuck his hand out to shake. Awkwardly balancing his watch box on one hand, Tom tries to make grip firm and solid. Logan gives him two shakes and quickly removes his hand.

“Wambsgans, you’ve got a strong grip. Trying to break an old man’s hand, eh?”

Fuck. Of course, Logan Roy would be above all masculine handshaking bullshit that the Wall Street posers were really into. Logan knew he was the king of the world, didn’t need to prove it to any Tom-Dick-Harry on the street.

Logan’s already turning away from him, but Tom tries to swallow his foot down the throat trying not to make his first impression even worst. He lets out a laugh, but winces internally. Too braying, too harsh, too corny.

“Well, you’re not that weak, Mr Roy-“ He tries. He does. But Shiv already looks disappointed and Logan’s barely listening to him. His time to prove himself is running out.

Ding!

Everyone turns to look at the elevator again. Kendall Roy steps out the lift with his ex-wife and children in tow. He’s wearing that same black blue outfit combo, just like the one on Forbes, proudly declaring him as the HEIR WITH THE FLAIR. Tom has read Kendall’s entire wikipedia enough times to know that the stress marks and the lack of the photogenic smile was simply because of his age.

Drugs - Divorce - Demotion.

Yet like every American hero billionaire, Kendall got the second chance that could only be afforded to the rich and now, most probably, he was going to the Successor to the entire media conglomerate. Even then, Tom wouldn’t say that he exactly envies the other man.

“Ken!” Logan’s voice somehow sounds surprised as well as disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d come. Did we close the Vaulter deal?”

Kendall’s stance becomes a bit wooden as he reaches down to accept his father’s embrace. His ex turns to Marcia and hands off a wrapped box with a pleasant smile. The kids run off with Grace’s kid and Kendall stands there looking a bit unsettled as he answers “oh, no, no Dad. They’re still hammering out the details. I took a break to wish you on your birthday. Not sure how many more there might be.” The conversation mills a bit around the two, everyone leans in a bit to hear.

“You did?” Logan repeats with furrowed brows. “Well, where’s your cousin? I thought he’d rather come than you.”

Kendall looks taken aback for a moment. Everyone tries another round of conversation, but Tom simply nods along to other’s words as he tries to figure out information about the cousin. A cousin? Shiv’s never mentioned a cousin being involved in … well, anything.

“Greg?” Kendall asks, his voice uncertain. Logan looks him in the eye and shares a sardonic grin. “Yes, Greg. Unless Marianne happened to suddenly stop by. What’s he doing? Wasn’t he with you this morning?”

Kendall seems to shrink into himself under his father’s gaze. “Greg’s..” he starts and stops for a moment. “Greg’s with the team in the building. He wanted to finish the deal before joining the party.”

“Shame.” Logan says, “But good for him, as soon as we wrap up this deal the better. Anyway, kids, can I talk to you alone for a moment? I just want you to sign something.”

All of them exchange glances with each other, the meaning of which Tom is too novel to understand. All of them quietly follow in the steps of their father. The rest of them stare.

“So,” Marcia says, clapping her hands together. The sound echoes in the eerie silence devoid of birthday wishes. “Let’s get started on lunch shall we?”

—

On the way to the “game” which was highly requested in a cult-like chanting, Tom abruptly turns to Shiv and asks “I didn’t know you had cousin working at Waystar?”

She ceases typing on her phone and looks up with pinched brows, seemingly in thought. Tom watches the city go by in a blur from Shiv’s side of the window and waits. “

“Oh,” She says “You mean Greg? Yeah, he’s like my second cousin. Uncle Ewan’s only grandson, although I don’t think he’s seen them since he was ten? He’s chief strategist at Royco. You’ll see him soon enough when you join.”

A when, not an if. And immediately, Tom’s heart lifts. He fights a grin on his face and catches Shiv’s eye. She smiles a bit, the stress from her face falling away for a second and turns back to her phone.

All was well.

—

All was not well.

Tom kind of looks like an idiot. At least in his own head, he’s been lugging around the watch box the entire evening. Right now, he’s standing behind Logan and Shiv like an obedient puppy waiting for Shiv to call upon him. The rest of the family is setting up the baseball game while the groundskeepers looking on fascinated.

Tom pretty much feels like them.

“So, about Tom,” Shiv says and Logan seems to be considering her words. Tom’s ears pick up, his hands turn sweaty again and he fidgets with the box in his hands. He imagines he can hear the watch tick inside like a time bomb.

“Hmm…” Logan replies, peering out into the distance. Kendall’s already gone into the wind, about half-an-hour ago, his ear glued to the phone talking to “Greg”. Tom waits for that syllable to end and simply waits.

“What do you think about putting him under Greg?”

Despite the short distance between him and the duo, he hears an undercurrent of something sinister his way. Something almost amusingly cruel.

“Wh-why Greg? Isn’t that - like isn’t he already busy with the buyings and everything else? And surely you don’t expect Tom to be his assistant? He’s much more experienced in business.” Shiv’s protest add a bit of tension to his mind.

What was the deal with this Greg? It was almost as if he was some kind of a boogeyman to Shiv and her siblings. But someone that Logan clearly approved of, but there was something very odd about the whole missing cousin.

It was as if being put under the cousin would somehow be bad for him. Geez, was he some kind of a hardass?

“No, no. I’m sure Greg’s not to busy to welcome your boyfriend into the family business. He can help guide Tom and put him in a fitting department. Not to busy to help family.”

Tom expects Shiv to say something. To put off Logan’s plan and for a moment, she does. But instead, she stops and frowns.

A beat.

Tom takes it as his cue to step in with the box.

This better work.

—

#ficlet #part 1 #When Rome Burns #WIP #writing wip #tomgreg #tom x greg #Greg Hirsch #Cousin Greg #Tom Wambsgans #partial Tomshiv #Succession #Succession HBO #alternate universe #AU

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 4 years

Text

Most Beloved Demon

Summary: It all started with a simple chat. A mere idle thought you had about one of the human customs in matchmaking that you shared in with the rest of the brothers because you were once again scheming to have another date with Mammon. And then you had to make another group chat without him because God, Jesus, and Mary showed you the way and it was a birthday party extravaganza for Mammon.

Tags: Galaxy Brained Reader, Oblivious Mammon, Idiots in Love, Happy Birthday Mammon, Sweets, Reader is Horny for Mammon, Kissing as a distraction

Rating: Rated E for explicit cock sucking and fucking at a dark alleyway

A/N: A late birthday fic for Mammon because I’ve just finished prelims for law school and boy am I worried

It had started, like with all things that shook the House of Lamentation, at a fine peaceful day. You were lounging in your room, feeling slightly neglected that Mammon wasn’t cuddling with you which meant that you couldn’t accidentally brush against his cock while cuddling or send him a signal that you were totally down to be fucked by him anytime anywhere. You’ve exhausted all means of entertainment, you were done doing your Diavolo-sanctioned prank on Lucifer, exhausted Asmo’s patience on your Mammon-less day, taunted Belphie on his apparent failure to keep you dead, entertained yourself by treating Beel as a food disposal unit and conducting “science experiments”, teaching Satan about human curses, and of course harassed Levi’s in-game character and made him drop 20 levels because he talked shit about your in-game wifey who was Mammon. Not that he knew.

Which meant that you were so bored, and there was no Mammon who could distract you, or you could seduce to a very fun and sexy game of strip billiards. Which ultimately meant you’d either have to trek to the Castle and bother Diavolo to play with you or go over at the Purgatory Hall and rope Solomon into revealing if Merlin is real. In the middle of your contemplation, your phone vibrated and a quick glance at it showed Barbatos’ message which read:

It would be more fruitful if you remained where you are.

You blinked and obediently shelved your plan of bothering Solomon and instead sent a message to the group chat:

🐑 : You know, in the human world in one culture birth dates are a great way of measuring compatibility between two people

You sat back and waited for everyone’s reply. Then the messages came flooding in and you smirked in satisfaction as you saw Mammon take the bait you’ve dangled, you idly watched them bicker, pouring gasoline whenever or dousing it water. Your laptop was ready to calculate and the moment Asmo shared his birthday you brought out the results and gleefully watched the mayhem about to ensue.

🐑 : Amazing! Asmo we have an 88% Compatibility~!

Sure enough, Asmo would never miss out a chance to mess with everyone else and so the two of you were able to successfully get everyone to do the compatibility test with you. The moment Mammon gave you his birthday you had foolishly remained oblivious to the date. Mind still focusing on the compatibility rate.

🐑 : Mammon~ We’ve got the highest compatibility rate~! 91%!

🐑 : By the way the method I used is the one for calculating marriage compatibility.

And then you glanced back to the calculator and registered the date he had given.

“September 10?” You mumbled as you glanced at the calendar and then back to Mammon’s apparent birthday.

Your eyes widened in realization just as the door to your room slammed open and your very cute and most beloved demon came in with a wild blush on his face. You blinked at his winter outfit and then decided that Devildom was much to cold for your delicate human body. Mammon, who was attuned to the ebb and flow of your libido made quick work of his and your clothes and the two of you wrestled under the sheets.

After 10 rounds of you alternating between begging Mammon to cum inside you and asking to suck his dick, you were giving him sweet and lazy kisses on his neck, giving him hickeys all the while engaging in your shared favorite hobby cock warming. Mammon had been flustered, at the start, with how into his kinks you were up until he realized that you were really just into him and made him melt.

Now he was used and utterly spoiled with your clingy disposition after sex. He would give you sweet kisses or alternate with teasing you a little bit and letting you decide if you wanted to go for another round. Right now though, his mind was preoccupied with the words that you had said. Mammon might have just been dating you for less than a year but even so he already knew you like the back of his hand.

So he definitely knew that you had some sort of ulterior motive for bringing that part with the marriage. And Mammon wasn’t sure if he wanted you to be like that to him. He knew himself and he knew that if you were really willing to enter into marriage with him...that there was no way he’d let you get away and neither would you let him. Mammon had already seen the depths of your love for him, had come to accept that you would always hold him above all.

And the best and worst of it was that he was the same.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him voice soft and hoarse.

Mammon smirked as he remembered how you looked utterly bliss out after having your mouth fucked. He shifts and you moan as you end up beneath him. You feel his cum drip from your pussy and looked at him in anticipation.

“Ya really are a slut for me” Mammon teased you, thrusting into you a little bit.

“It’s because I love you...” You encircled your arms on his neck and tug him down for a sweet kiss. You smile as Mammon begins another round of sex, he fucks you languidly, enjoying this moment where the two of you simple enjoyed existing. Whispering sweet words of love and the knowledge that both of you had found each other.

When all is said and done, you spooned him, holding him tight and close to your chest and he holds you equally tight and tells you,

“...I want to spend my birthday with you...”

“As you wish” You kissed him good night.

In extreme contrast with your passionate and gentle night of slumber with Mammon was the birthday plan meeting you were currently holding secretly. You had, in very character of you, used one of the favors Barbatos owed you to have him send Mammon on an errand that would last long enough for all of you to plan his birthday.

Lucifer had shot down all your suggestions of gifting Mammon a Casino, a Mansion and Villa in the human realm, buying him a gold mine, and gifting him a civil registry that listed him as your husband in devildom and the human realm.

Satan had, in a rare moment of cooperation with Lucifer, also shot down all your party suggestions of champagne towers, booking the entire Ristorante Six, Booking the entire Fall, and giving Mammon a surprise wedding.

All of you had eventually decided to just give Mammon a sentimental and heartfelt gift of experience. With a strict order from Lucifer to not let you pick a stationary set that was used for weddings.

Which meant that you had made plans with them to buy it two days later, when you knew that Mammon had a photo shoot and thus you had no date with him scheduled that day. And because your Father-in-Law was still holding a grudge over that time you beat him up at the Mcdonald’s back parking lot, Mammon’s shoot got rescheduled and you ended up bumping to him just when you, Asmo, and Satan had bought the supplies.

“...Why?” He asked looking hurt and dejected that you had turned him down to spend time with Asmo and Satan.

“It’s now what you think!” You hurriedly replied.

“Hey, don’t sound like a husband that just got caught” Satan frowned as he stealthily hid the paper bag that held the stationary set and golden wax seal the three of you had bought.

“Satan’s right you know?” Asmo chimed, “The three of us were just window shopping.”

Asmo signaled you to distract Mammon and you nodded. So in a moment of sheer brilliance you led Mammon to a darkened and secluded alleyway. Pushed him in the wall and kissed him deeply before he could protest. All of his anger and hurt melted away as you fervently kissed him, one of your hand palming on his cock as you twined your tongue with his.

You stop and let Mammon see the sloppy evidence of the make out session you had just initiated. Far more filthy and intense than your accidentally on purpose mistake of fumbling the seduction spell during the exam.

“I’m not going to forgive you so easily!”

You said nothing to that and instead dropped to your knees as your finger traced the seam of his zipper. Mammon cursed and muttered an invisibility and warding spell. You unzipped his pants with your teeth, kissing his hardened cock through the fabric of his brief. You glanced at him and smiled at him devilishly before you took his cock into your mouth and began giving him the best blow job of his entire demonic and angelic life combined.

You, who was always horny on main for your demon boyfriend, was giving it your all in sucking his dick putting into good use all the techniques your succubi and incubi friends had given you. Your alternated between deep throating yourself with his thick and long cock and giving him a hand job as your tongue licked his balls and then his cock. You enjoyed the thick veins on Mammon’s dick along with the undeniable blunt ridges that you had grown familiar with.

“Fuck!” Mammon cursed as he decided he had enough of your teasing and fucked your mouth, dirty talk falling easily out of his mouth as he praised you, “You’re always such a slut for my dick aren’t ya? look at you turning your mouth into a pussy for me to use any time I want.”

You tried to convey your pleasure with your eyes, agreeing with everything Mammon said and that had only served to increase his pleasure. He took great joy at seeing you on your knees and begging him with your eyes as you lost your self to heat and lust. Hands gripping on Mammon’s clothes, your mouth and his cock making lewd noises as your saliva dripped on the corners of your mouth.

Mammon took out his cock from your mouth and you whined at the lost, his hand still gripping your hair and you were looking at him with a betrayed look while his free hand was pumping his dick.

“Mammon~”

“You really want me to make you swallow or do you want me to fuck you here in this alley for as long as I want?”

You blinked and looked at him with a dazed look, Mammon’s smirk growing wide as he let your hair go and watched you unzip your mini shorts, letting it drop to the ground and presenting your enticing hole to Mammon.

“What a good slut” Mammon praised you as he used his wet dick and spit as lube before teasing your opening.

“Ma-nnn..darling! I want your dick in me already!” You cried softly as Mammon teased you while you could only look longingly at his erect dick and let your mouth water.

“Then say the magic words” He teased you as he bit you on your neck.

“Please breed this good and obedient slut with your thick and lovely seed!” You begged him in between moans and shudders of pleasure that went through your body. Mammon stuttered for a moment before he regained his wits and did as you asked.

His cock entered you easily, “Your hole really was meant to take my cock” he let you get used to the feeling before he began moving slowly, watching the soft jiggling of your chest with each thrust he made. His hands were holding both of your wrists you could only moan as Mammon ruthlessly grazed your spot with his hard dick.

“If anyone could see you right now they’d think you were getting paid for this,” Mammon grinned darkly, “But then again, you were only ever a slut for me aren’t you? Opening your legs for me anytime I ask, easily taking my cock into your mouth.”

“I-it’s becau-! I love you!” You panted as you felt Mammon hit your spot.

Mammon knew you loved him but it really was different hearing how you were only like this because you loved him. He smiled at you and sweetly kissed you on your mouth as he carried you in his arms.

“Ma--” You cut off by his dick thrusting in you deeper. You were vaguely aware that your shorts had already slipped off your leg and your underwear was already ruined.

“I love you too” Mammon said as he vigorously fucked your hole and you could only hold on tightly on his shoulders as you stopped bothering to lower your voice.

The sounds of wet flesh slapping, along with your lustful moans filled the darkened alley. You weren’t aware of the passage of time, nor did you care about the fact that there were often footsteps that would stop at the mouth of the alley. All you cared about was the feeling of Mammon fucking you and the undeniable smell of his come covering your body.

All your clothes had ended up on the ground, you were naked while Mammon still had his clothes on, not that you mind since there was something erotic about the picture it presented to any voyeur that was brave enough to risk Mammon’s ire. Your legs had grown weak after the 15th round and you were only dazedly looking at air as Mammon fucked you from behind, his previous comes dripping down your hole and between your legs. Some had formed a puddle directly on the ground beneath your hole.

Your neck and shoulders were filled with love bites, and most of your skin was sticky with dried cum. You felt Mammon slow down on his thrust and then the familiar wet heat of his cum filled your inside.

You looked at him in question, watching him observe his masterful lewd work that was you.

“Already?” You asked him slightly frowning.

Mammon only looked at you helplessly fond and doting before he began to dress you up, fingers teasing your overstimulated nerves but keeping it at that, “We still need to go home in time for the curfew.”

You pouted but nonetheless let him do as he pleased, though you did squirm a little bit as he zip up your shorts and teasing you once more by rubbing his hand on your crotch through the fabric.

Soaking the crotch are with the mixture of his and your cum. You whined at him, “Can’t we continue at a love hotel?”

Mammon said nothing beyond a teasing smile as he lad you out of the alley, you were limping slightly as you leaned completely on his side and steadfastly ignored the looks the demons were giving you nor did you pay any mind on the undeniable dribble of cum that was between your legs.

What mattered was that Mammon had forgotten about the events earlier and you were getting railed again once both of you got home.

The next morning you woke up on Mammon’s arms and experienced the feeling of being a pampered wife who got railed so good. Mammon had sat you on his lap and fed you as you weakly laid on his chest and ignored the judgmental looks Lucifer was giving you. Chances were, he had already found out about the semi-public sex you and Mammon did.

But you were well-fed and satiated so you put it on the back of your mind as you planned to get things done for Mammon’s surprise. So the time you spent away from Mammon, physically since you were sending him sexy pics and basically having sext with him, was allotted for writing the letters for him. Special ones that would last for years even when you would no longer be alive.

You carefully wrote each letter and made sure that in each and everyone of it had all your overflowing love for him. You wrote him a letter for every conceivable event that you could thought of, until it went from emotions he would feel into situations he would get in until it became for his everyday life.

With each letter you wrote, you couldn’t help but be envious of the people he’d get to meet after you were gone. The selfish part of you that wanted to remain inside his heart for as long as he lived. You could only sigh at your helplessness, there was no guarantee that you would live forever and that you could be with him till he died.

You didn’t know if he would remember you clearly or slowly fade away from his memories. So you decided to give him this indelible words that carried your most fervent wish of being able to stay by his side for eternity.

You wrote and wrote, pouring all of the words that you could never say and to cowardly to speak aloud and instead let it hang on the air. In between the moments when Mammon would catch your eye and you’d look at him and see his love that overflows, in the brief moments of silence where you would hold onto him tightly afraid of him leaving you, in those dark days that you almost lost him and still foolishly unaware that you had come to love him.

The words you kept inside you flowed from your heart and mind and into the tips of your fingers, as you wrote page after page of love letters for Mammon. You let the papers dry and lovingly folded it into the golden envelopes and sealed it with a red wax seal that held your initials.

You placed it inside your jewelry box and hid it.

The door to your room opened and you turned around, seeing Mammon you couldn’t help but smile widely as you called for his name.

You rushed to hug him and Mammon peppered your face with kisses. You let yourself soak up the warmth of his love and decided to no longer think of the distant future that you feared the most.

Mammon had always known that you loved him the most in the entire world. It was hard not to, when you were always out rightly favoring him, always treating him so much better than the others and you would always tell it to him. There was no room for doubt when it came to your love.

And Mammon loved you as well, your flaws and everything because it was what made you human. You weren’t a saint or a holy mother, he didn’t care about your cruel streak that only ever existed in defense of him and his brothers nor did he mind the days you would stick to him relentlessly as if you were afraid he would be gone. He didn’t mind your moments of jealousy, the instances when you’d cut someone with your words.

You had left a mark on his heart that would never fade away, you had made him yours in the way no one would be able to do so. He smiled at the pieces of memory you had left him, proof of your existence in a world that changed much too fast and much too slow for someone like him.

Your bones had withered and turned into dust, you were no longer by his side, all three realms was co-existing peacefully, you lasted long enough to see Diavolo’s dreams to bear fruit, you stayed long enough to hold your great grand children in your arms but even so it still wasn’t enough for him. His greedy heart that was only ever content with you in his arms. But even so Mammon could still remember your voice, the inflections on the words you spoke, the way your eyes glittered with happiness upon seeing his face.

He looked at the wrinkled and yellowed letter you had left him. The last among the letters you wrote for him since the first birthday you had celebrated with him. -

Dear Mammon,

If you’re reading this letter then that would mean I’m no longer by your side. Somehow even with the centuries I’ve spent with you, the thought that I am no longer by your side still makes me cry. You’ve influenced me too much that I became greedy of you.

Have you eaten yet? Are you sleeping well? Are you taking care of yourself?

Don’t mope around anymore, by time you reached this letter centuries would have passed since I died. I know I said I can’t accept you having someone else after me and I was happy that you went along with my selfish wish but even so...I don’t want you to miss out on another great love. I’m already happy with all the years you’ve given me even if it was just a fraction of what you lived and you will live.

I’m really scared that you’d forget me easily and I still want to live longer and be by your side I love you so much that I’m afraid what would happen to you once I’m gone. Mammon, my most beloved demon, I’m sorry I had to leave you first. But even so I’m selfishly happy that I would never know what a world without you would be. I’m weak and cowardly even so you loved this part of me that desperately held onto you, you loved me even if you knew that between the two of us I’ve forgotten how to live without you.

I knew you like the back of my hand, so familiar and foreign at the same time. In all the years I’ve spent writing you letters filled with words that I could never say aloud, I’ve come to accept that I only knew of love because of you. It’s a scary thought, knowing that if I hadn’t meet you...I wouldn’t have given love a chance. I would have live my years not knowing the warmth of your embrace or peace that your presence brought to me.

Thank you for giving me a family that I love and loves me in return, I was so happy when I bore you our third child. Do you remember? I cried that time because he looked so much liked you, he had your eyes and your nose, and then he had your laugh and smile. Our eldest daughter was so happy then, finally having a human passing brother. Number 2 was so pouty that day but even so I was happy with our little family.

There’s a lot of things I want to write to you in this final letter but my hands are already shaking. Our Little Ds of Greed are scampering around right now while I’m writing this. I can’t help but laugh a little bit, my heart feels a bit sour. You’re sleeping soundly right now by my side and I love you so much, that even if my lungs hurt and my body aches so much I want to spend the last moments of my life telling you how much I love you.

I love your smile. I love your laugh. I love the way you’d get into trouble and come to me for help. I love the days you’d let me chase away your nightmares. I love how you patiently waited for me to return to your side. I love how you always tell me you love in the little ways. I love how you never let me wake up in a cold empty bed. I love you. I love you from the moment you ran towards me. I love you until now.

I love you in this life, and if there is a next life for me, I’ll love you there as well. I love you in every world there is that I exist with you. I love you in all infinite possibilities of this universe and the next.

I love you, my Mammon. And I will begone but even if I am no longer by your side I would still love you. I would love you even if my mind and heart forgets because whatever it was that our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.

So live well and fall in love with the world again, my cherished and inevitable downfall.

Yours in Eden.

#mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me mammon x mc #mammon #obey me

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