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#back with prompts based slightly off of personal experience/feelings
dumplingsjinson · 11 months
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List of “you say you wanna be friends but it’s starting to feel like you wanna be more than that” prompts
“Tell me why you say you wanna be friends but then go and pull shit that makes me feel like you want to be more than friends?” 
“Do you… Like like me?” “No, I don’t. That’s defamatory.”
“I don’t know why but all I can think about is kissing you. I’m… Not the only one, right?”  
“Friends don’t fucking do this.”
“Do you actually want to be friends or do we need to talk about this and reevaluate our relationship?”
“I don’t know if I can do this with you when I think I’m starting to want more.” 
“If I knew we’d come to this then I wouldn’t have agreed to be your friend in the first place.”
“You’re confusing me. Stop it.”
“So what is it you really want from me?” “I don’t— I don’t know.” 
“Fuck, why are you doing this to me?” “Doing what?” “Messing with my head!”
“Everything about this is starting to feel really not platonic.”
“…This isn’t working.”
“I’m pulling away before I get hurt.”
“Don’t give me mixed signals. If you want us to stay friends, don’t fucking act like that.”
“I don’t know about you, but I want out. I can’t keep doing this and act like we’re just friends.”
“Did I do something? Why are you suddenly acting so distant?” “Just… Because.” 
“Don’t give me that shit. Don’t treat me like that. Don’t make me think you like me. Don’t give me the hope I don’t need or want. Don’t give me a reason to continue feeling this way for you.” 
“…I think I like you.” 
“Is it weird I wanna give you all of me?”
“This is all we should be, yet it somehow feels like we could be more. You feel me?” “…Sorry?” 
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thegnomelord · 5 months
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Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.
I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.
Once again good soup!
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Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE
Prompt: Hug from behind
CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.
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Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.
Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.
You're not even sure when or why it had started.
It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.
None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.
Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.
Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.
You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.
Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.
You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"
You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.
"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.
Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.
It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.
Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.
It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).
Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.
"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.
"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.
"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.
Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."
You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.
You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.
He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.
You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.
"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.
And, Hell, Graves gets it now.
He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.
And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.
"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.
"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.
"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"
You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.
"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.
"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."
"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."
He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.
"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.
The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"
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nebbyy · 2 months
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Hi! I'm not sure if you are currently taking requests, so feel free to ignore mine if you aren't! If you are taking them, however, would you please write something for King Baldwin IV overhearing reader sing and falling further in love with her because of her soft and sweet voice? Upon realizing that he's there, she becomes extremely flustered and apologizes for disrupting his peace and quiet. Thank you!
King Baldwin IV x reader - Sweetest of melodies
A/N: omg it’s been so long since I’ve received a request! I can’t lie, Baldwin is my supreme comfort character, I think I’ll never stop writing fro him because it gives me sooo much joy😩😩😩 I personally like to think of this piece as taking place a few months after Baldwin’s and reader’s wedding, so it could be considered a sequel for my first fic ever. Also, the song mentioned in this piece is a real song from the 12th century called "Can vei la lauzeta" (in English,"When I see the lark") by Bernart de Ventadorn, and the painting is "Lovers in a garden" by Charles Edward Perugini!!
Oh btw!! I’m working on a long ass series about him, based off of a prompt by @phantomsghoulette  which I absolutely LOVED. Sooo all the KoH fans stay tuned for future updates🤭
Warning: nothing really, just pure fluff. Maybe you could say that religious innuendos could be something triggering for some people but I don’t know. There might be ONE, SLIGHTLY spicy mention but only if you squint really really hard. Also, keep in mind that the historical accuracy in my fics is rather relative, I try to add some details here and there but I don’t have the knowledge (nor the skills) to write a piece 100% accurate to the real history. Also, reader’s gender is female and uses she/her pronouns!!
Word count: 2918
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Someone would say Baldwin's patience could already be put to test by only his illness, which she ruthlessly does not grant him a moment's respite, the eternal enemy of his body and his spirit. But no, to this perpetual torment of his had to be added the perilous duties of a king. And it was certainly not governing his people and lands that sucked what little energy he had left; this duty of his, given by his father and willed by divine design, he had long since embraced.
It was the nobles, the leeches who had drained him of his lifeblood lately. It was their endless demands, the insidious words that hissed behind his back, the languid bows and sleazy gifts designed only to gain some favor from him. Looking around him, he seemed to see only vices and sinners, power-hungry beasts just waiting for his moment of weakness so they could feed on what Baldwin had under his power.
In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, experiencing for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.
In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, to experience for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.
And he dreamed of taking you with him, imagined how sweet his life would be if his only concerns were taking care of his health and you, faithful wife, sole blessing in his life battered by such burdens. How he would wish that his days would revolve around you, that his first thought in the morning would be riding by your side through the flourishing meadows, and his last thought in the evening would be caressing your face as you lie slumbering in his arms.
It would have been a blissful fate his, if only Sybilla's husband had not died at the very moment when he would have needed him most. If only his mother had not convinced him that Guido de Lusignan was a good fit for his sister and had continued to seek a new consort for her, perhaps that fate would not have been snatched from him so early. Too late to repent now, for Baldwin would have preferred to die agonizingly on his throne rather than leave power in the hands of that bumptious and arrogant lord, who was noble only in title.
And so he found himself in this sort of hellish limbo, forced into a position that should never be required of a man in his condition, but prevented by his morality from abandoning his reign, impelled by faith in God's greater plan, that his suffering should not be in vain.
And his faith always seemed to strengthen when he had a way to escape the stifling air that characterized the throne room, always packed with knights and crusaders and nobles, when he had a way to retreat to the palace gardens, one of the few verdant places in all of Jerusalem.
With slow, swaying steps, Baldwin strolled slowly among the local palm trees and flower beds from the faraway lands, those where men speak Italian and the more distant ones, those from which his fathers came. Exotic fruits mingled with those more congenial to the French, who out of nostalgia for their lands and fields did what they could to bring the seeds of these plants with them to overseas.
His mind seemed to go out, shifting his attention from the constant buzz of court demands and duties to the chirping of birds perched on the roof, to the eviction of the soft branches that shielded him from the scorching sun. He enjoyed the refreshing air that reigned in that small oasis of greens, which was able to infiltrate the fabric of his white robes, crossing the bandages that covered much of his body and finally reaching his skin, numbed by leprosy. 
To tell the truth, of that refreshing sensation little reached his damaged nerves, if not for those few points that had been spared by the merciless disease, from which departed that unusual shiver that caused him a delicate smile of relief, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in, discovering with satisfied surprise that that light gust was also a harbinger of an intoxicating perfume, a mixture of exotic and familiar.
How funny to think of the concept of "exotic", for an Angevin born and raised in the unknown lands of the east. For him it was exotic French fruit, exotic were the green plains and heavy clothing that brought his allies from the northwest, and equally alien to the snowy mountains and forest beasts that he saw drawn in detail in his childhood books. It was these changes of perspective that stimulated his mind in a myriad of thoughts and reflections, but in a pleasurable way for him, not as exhausting as his daily duties.
His reflections on exotic and local made his mind travel, wandering until he came to a subject very close to him: Muslims and Jews, reflecting well on the landscape in front of him, recognized that he could share with them the same concepts of what is foreign and what they can claim the original belonging. And he could not but reflect on how it must have been for the first inhabitants of Jerusalem to observe the Franks who came as conquerors, and filled their gardens with such foreign plants as those pale warriors who had taken possession of their dwelling... But after all, the French soldiers who were emissaries of God’s will needed something familiar to stabilize them as they fought to reclaim the Promised Land, ut Deus voluit.
But all his brooding over these matters of conquest and submission ended up in the background in his mind, when a colorful scarlet sphere caught his attention. An exquisitely red apple seemed to tempt him from a branch just above his head, beckoning him to be picked and savored by the king, that he might lose himself in the juicy sweetness of that fruit with origins so far removed from the Holy Land. But the king's modesty prevented him from yielding to that temptation, wanting to avoid exposing the advanced state of deterioration in which his mouth was.
And in fact if that temptation had been alive it would have pale in front of something much more captivating, a sound that echoed in the most melodious distance of the song of any nightingale. Baldwin was surprised to think that he had not realized before the melody that inibriated the atmosphere around him, so taken by the tribulations of his mind that he almost missed such an intoxicating song. He did not know what he felt once he arrived in Heaven, if he had ever arrived in spite of the unjust fate in Hell that the evil Saracens wished him. He didn’t know it, but if one ever had to imagine what Heaven sounded like, that song would come to mind.
When I see the lark beating 
Its wings in joy against the rays of the sun 
That it forgets itself and lets itself fall 
Because of the sweetness that comes to its heart
She sang in Occitan, the beautiful one in the distance. The voice of his people, of his lineage, that few in the palace can pronounce after so many years of distance from their homeland in Provence. Paying more attention to the echoing song, he would not even have had to approach it to give a face to that melodic voice: he knew how to recognize his wife’s voice.
Yet it was a new context in which he saw you, new facets of you that he had not yet had a chance to observe. Your voice, sweet as honey, venerable like all your other traits, he had never heard it except in speech, when you were proclaiming orders before your subjects with the authority fit for a queen, or when you laughed at the poems and performances of the court singers, or when you whispered in Baldwin’s ears sweet words, while you lay with bodies merged between the soft silk sheets. Always spoken, but never sung.
Alas! Such great envy then overwhelms me 
Of all those whom I see rejoicing,
But though he didn’t need to approach you to recognize you, the desire to see your face exceeded any of his other needs. As if mesmerized by the sound of a siren, Baldwin was advancing towards you, with steps so slow that it seemed a hunter about to catch a deer in the woods. He wanted nothing more than to hear you sing again, that you continue to bless him with that angelic melody. What worse sin would there be than to interrupt your song, more sacred than a prayer?
His stomach filled with butterflies and turned upside down like the beasts' jugglers, his breath seemed to stop in his throat, depriving him of the breath he no longer needed, as long as he could hear you sing a moment more. And her cheeks warmed, when finally she saw you among the white lilies, more beautiful than divine salvation.
I wonder that my heart, at that moment, 
Does not melt from desire.
Baldwin wondered if you sang with him in mind, if those words of love reflected your own emotional turmoil. 
Oh, if only it were so, and your singing equalled his own words inscribed in the sonnets and poems he composed in your honor, which he himself commissioned from your favorite singers to perform at banquets, only to steal an embarrassed smile and to see the blush of your cheeks, along with the glint in your eyes.
Whether it was or not, the outcome remained the same since he was at that moment in your proximity, in the same state mixed with adoration, love and wonder at the bold gesture. But if only he had confirmation from your words...
Alas! How much I thought I knew 
About love, and how little I know, 
Because I cannot keep myself from loving 
The one from whom I will gain nothing.
"My angel, your voice sounds like heaven but your words are false." Baldwin practically saw you blow up from your session, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance, unaware that your husband has been acting as a secret public all this time. Your initial surprise quickly turns into a laugh to mask your embarrassment for being caught in a moment like this, when you thought you were alone to be able to run the streets of music with your voice.
"I beg your pardon, I thought I was alone in the gardens," your eyes met his own only for a moment, before you turned your face to try and hide the blush of your face, "it was just a silly song I heard singing to the Provençal knights. I hope I did not disrupt your walk, my love..”
He laughed softly, trying to hide his amusement from having caught you off guard. He approached you more quickly than when he did just a few moments before, but with the same phlegm that managed to inspire a feeling of safeness in you. Sitting by your side on the bare rock, he raised his bandaged hand to gently cup your face and make you turn your eyes towards him. It was only then, when you had no choice but to look at Baldwin in the face that you noticed how his eyes, the only part of his face exposed to the outside world, formed two half-moons, and you came to find that it was because of how widely he was smiling, as you lowered the veil from his face. 
He was making fun of you, you realized. With that swagger in his manner, you understood that his amusement came from your embarrassment at that silly misunderstanding. Laughing softly, he gently shook his head before bringing both hands to your face, holding it as if it were the most sacred of relics. "As much as I would love to hear you sing of your affection for me, just to hear your voice echoing in the air is the sweetest of gifts. How could you deprive me of this blessing thus far, my dear?"
You could do nothing but giggle at his sweet words, bringing your hands to his wrists to feel him closer to you. "You flatter me, my king. My voice boasts nothing more than those sweet melodies that the singers in the palace sing. Mine is only a dabble."
His gaze softened, his playful spirit addicted to your presence. He took the floor again, in a tone as soft as cotton, "At least this once, my queen, allow me to disagree with your words. My life may be short and my reality small, but never have I heard such an angelic voice, singing such sweet melodies. And God may not yet have granted me the ability to predict the future, but in my heart I know well that never will any singer be able to hold a candle to your beautiful voice, never will any song be able to express the same feeling of ecstasy.
"You, my angel, have managed to make a simple ballad an absolute work of art through your voice. I think I should take you with me into battle next time, for with your mere voice you could addict Saladin and his entire army.
"And seeing you here, angelic and perfect like the lilies that surround you, singing so softly that it would make any bird jealous, that I realize that whatever toil, whatever challenges God has stored up for me, and all those that still await me in my life, are worth it, if at the end of each of them there is you, voice of an angel, to hold a place for me in your arms of heaven." 
You were sure you were on the verge of crying a flood of tears, the result of pure emotion at his sweet words. It was not new to you that Baldwin worshipped you as much as the God to whom his kingdom was consecrated, from the first moment he got to hear your voice and admire your face, and you knew at once that he had become yours, body and soul. But it was new to you to see him like that, completely entranced by your simple being-it was something new. A wonderful newness that made you feel like the most desired of women on this earth.
Taken by a rush of boldness, you practically jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck; you ended up on top of him, with his hands around your hips. You both laughed, like two little boys frolicking in the gardens. And you left a kiss on his left cheek, then on the bridge of his nose. A kiss again on his forehead, and then down on the side of his lips. When you were about to give him another kiss, just where he most yearned for your lips, against his, you stopped a few inches away, with a wide smile, before speaking again, "If so little is enough to make your happiness, then I will sing to you every day, whenever you ask. Let me be your nightingale, your morning song and your lullaby all at once!"
"I couldn't wish for anything else, my dear. Now, however, I beg you, sing one more melody for me, before my duties drag me back to the palace, and I shall consider myself a blessed man."
"With great pleasure, my love." Your voice was now little more than a whisper. With a languid movement, Baldwin moved his body to rest his head on your lap, and you eagerly greeted him. After slightly moving the hood that veiled his head, so that you could play with his golden locks, you began to sing a new melody, one that this time spoke of reciprocated love, of the joy of being able to hold your loved one in your arms. But the words you sang barely reached Baldwin before his sky-colored eyes closed softly, his mind giving him at least a moment's despite from his perilous life. You continued to sing, caressing his face, which from day to day appeared more and more mutilated by his disease, singing the sweetest of melodies so as to prolong this idyll in which you and your husband found yourselves in. 
For with you Baldwin had a way of putting the crown aside, and being nothing more than a foolish young man in love, whose only duty was to love you, to love you with all the love that an angel like you deserved.
@sweetworkoffiction hope you like it <3
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misc-obeyme · 8 months
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For kinktober, maybe Leviathan and dacryphilia? I want to make that boy SOB-
So excited for this! I always love your work
Hello, anon! And thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying my writing! <3
Okay, hopefully I didn't go overboard with how much Levi is crying, but you said you want to make him sob, so here we are lol. I very much believe that it's praise that will make Levi cry every time. Is that based on personal experience? No absolutely not. I just want to praise him until the end of time, that's all.
Anyway, I'm hoping this turned out okay!
Thanks for submitting a prompt!
KINKTOBER 2023
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GN!MC x Leviathan
NSFW MDNI
Warnings: dacryphilia, penetration (reader receiving), pet name (for Levi, also I almost never include pet names but it just felt right this time lol I'm sorry in advance)
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It was a quiet day at the House of Lamentation. For once, you were almost alone in the house. Most of the brothers were out somewhere else. Lucifer was in his office working and Leviathan was with you, but otherwise the place was empty.
You had convinced Levi to leave his room long enough to come to your room because you wanted to watch anime with him while sitting comfortably on your bed. Levi was a blushing mess as you settled in beside him. It was clear he was trying not to react to the way you rested your head on his shoulder.
About halfway through the episode, you noticed that Levi was squirming quite a bit beside you. It wasn't like him to get distracted while watching anime, so you turned your head to look at his face.
You weren't surprised to see his blush, but he also wasn't even looking at the screen. You felt around for the remote, finding it under your fingers before pausing the show.
Levi blinked. "Huh? Why did you pause it?"
"You aren't even watching," you said, sitting up to look at him more directly.
Levi rubbed at the back of his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "Of course I was! The librarian was about to take off her glasses and reveal her beauty!"
This was proof of nothing because it was obvious that was about to happen next. Any otaku worth his salt would've been able to tell you that, even if he hadn't been paying attention. You squinted at Levi, trying to figure out what was really going on.
Your eyes traveled down from his face and that was when you finally figured it out. The bulge in Levi's pants was so obvious, you weren't sure how you didn't notice it earlier. You smirked.
"Oh," you said. "I see what the problem is."
"Y-you do?" Levi practically squeaked, still unable to look at you.
You leaned forward and put a hand on his bulge. "Why don't we take care of this so that you can focus on the show, hmm?"
Levi whimpered. "I'm so sorry, MC!" he burst out. "I'm just a gross otaku and I'm not even good at that! How could I lose focus like this during such an important episode! You don't have to do anything. Just let me go back to my own room in shame."
He was about to scramble off your bed, but you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. You straddled his hips before he could try to get away again.
"Absolutely not," you said, looking down at him. You put your fingertips on his lips. "You aren't gross, Levi. Right now? All I want to do is ride you."
Levi stared at you, seemingly at a loss for words. "Y-you want to…?"
You brushed some of his hair back and out of his eyes. "Don't you get it? I think you're beautiful. You're perfect."
The tears that filled Levi's eyes surprised you. He took in a shaky breath and closed them, causing the tears to spill over and run down his cheeks.
"No, no, baby," you said, leaning down to kiss the tears off his skin. "If you're going to cry it's because I'm making you feel good, got it?"
Levi couldn't even formulate a response. You had to take control, moving enough to pull down his pants and freeing his cock. It was still hard, even leaking, and you pumped it a few times with your hand. You were rewarded with a throaty moan, slightly tinged with the thickness of Levi's tears.
You moved enough of your own clothing to allow you to position yourself to take him in.
You paused, hands on Levi's shoulders, and looked into his eyes. They were still wet and he looked up at you as though he couldn't believe you were even real. You smiled and maintained eye contact with him while you lowered yourself down on his cock.
You weren't able to keep your eyes on him for long because they rolled back as you went all the way down, feeling the tip hit that perfect spot inside you. You moaned and Levi whimpered.
Levi's hands went to your hips, resting there almost hesitantly. You began to move and you weren't gentle. You already couldn't get enough of his cock, bouncing quickly in his lap. Levi's hands gripped harder as you did this, like he couldn't help it.
"MC, MC," he moaned out your name. When you looked at him again, you saw the tears had returned. They were trailing down his cheeks.
You put your hands on either side of his face. "These better be tears of pleasure," you said between your heavy breaths.
Levi only nodded, unable to speak. His eyes were closed now, tears continuing to seep out of them, running into your fingers.
You increased the pace, chasing that high you could feel yourself so close to. The build up and the tension filling you, as you felt Levi begin to thrust up into you, his cock hitting you so perfectly, his tears damp against your skin.
Levi cried out as he came, voice still thick with tears, and the sound of it pushed you over the edge. You clamped down on his shoulders as you felt your mingled liquids dripping down your legs.
You rested your forehead against his, gently wiping away all of his tears. "Hush now," you said. "You were amazing, Levi."
Later you would be able to finish watching the episode you had paused. But Levi insisted on keeping his head in your lap the whole time, seemingly unable to look at you. He was embarrassed about crying so much, no matter how you reassured him. You made a mental note that complimenting Levi a lot was the way to turn on the waterworks.
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flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname
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amaya-writes · 2 years
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hi!
if you have time do you think you can make a L from death note scenario where you teach him how to kiss? that’ll be great! thanks :))
Notes: okay first off this request was so cute! And I wanted to write it earlier but y'know life lol but yeah I was super excited for this one
Warnings: n/a, just pure fluff
Characters involved: L
Gender-neutral reader, you/yours
The office was consumed with a peaceful silence as you lounged on the sofa, watching as L shuffled his gaze across the sheets of paper and monitors before him, occasionally letting out a small contemplative hum or clinking his spoon against the ceramic plate his cake sat on.
The two of you had been like that for quite some time, with L working away while you did as you pleased, waiting for him to finish.
This certainly wasn't the first time you had spent your afternoon like this, however, something about this time seemed different. Almost off even.
Like L was different.
The thought had you glancing up in your partner's direction, coincidentally catching him just as he turned to look at you.
"Something's bothering you."
It was more of a statement than a question, but L still chose to respond as he completely spun his chair to face you.
"I wouldn't say bothering, no. But I have found myself contemplating something for the past couple of days."
"And what would that be?"
L's personality seemed to do a complete 360 at your question, with his usual self-assured demeanour being replaced with a more hesitant one that wasn't quite like him.
Almost as if he was contemplating whether or not to reply truthfully.
However, he seemed to finally give in to his curiosity and eventually voiced his concerns.
"As a couple, I have come to understand that there are some things people in relationships normally do, such as kissing."
"And?"
"And I can't help but wonder why we haven't done it yet."
You didn't know why you felt so surprised at his bluntness, after all, you had gotten used to L's tendency to speak his mind with no filter over the past month or so.
Yet somehow you found yourself feeling slightly flustered even as you replied.
"Come here."
He lingered beside his desk for a moment or two before rolling his chair towards the sofa, only coming to a stop once he was directly in front of you.
However, you were quick to tug him closer to you, causing his legs to drop to the ground so that he could lean down to your level.
"If you wanted to kiss that badly, you could have just asked."
L seemed to get a little flustered at your comment, with a light blush dusting his cheeks as he noticed the way you shifted so you could easily lean into him.
"Think of it as more...research based. I would like to learn how to kiss rather than just kiss."
"Oh yeah? Well-"
You couldn't help the smile that formed across your lips as you leaned in to have your foreheads touch, noticing how L turned impossibly redder at your proximity.
"-I'm happy to help you out."
You finally sealed your lips with his as you spoke, softly tugging on his bottom lip as you guided L through the kiss.
Your hand almost automatically moved to tangle in his hair as you tugged him closer to you, with the action prompting L to rest his hand right below your jawline as he slowly began experimenting with the kiss.
He seemed to get the hang of it after the first few pecks, choosing to break away for a quick second before leaning back in for another kiss, this time with him taking the lead.
His kisses tasted of the strawberry cake he had been munching on, with the sweet flavour only adding to the soft way he caressed his lips against yours.
L was quite the natural when it came to kissing, something you shouldn't have been surprised by considering your partner was a certified genius and a quick learner.
However, as his kisses got bolder and his other hand dropped to your waist, you found that it was you who had to pull away before you got too flustered.
"So, did that suffice your research?"
L let out a contemplative hum at your question, moving his chair back and forth for a moment or two before he finally stopped and returned to his previous position, this time leaning a lot closer than before.
"Hmm, I think I need a little more to go off of. For research purposes, of course."
He might have had his signature detective face on as he spoke, but you couldn't help but feel like L had some ulterior motives, however, you were more than happy to oblige.
After all, it wasn't every day you got to teach the world's best detective how to kiss.
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the12thnightproject · 2 months
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Chapter Two: Miss Congeniality - Katsuko meets many residents of Azuchi... but not her fake fiance.
Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai
Previous Chapter
Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.
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From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…
A good General will ensure that his soldiers are provided with not only food, but also appropriate armor for upcoming battles. It would be illogical to send warriors onto the battlefield on an empty stomach, but even more so for them not to have protection from the weapons of enemy forces. The initial cost of armoring soldiers will be far repaid in ensuring safety (as much as possible given a situation of war) and loyalty.
Personal comments: Lady Mai requested permission to help “re-design” the Oda soldier uniforms. It is difficult to refuse Lady Mai anything, however such a decision rests in the hands of Lord Nobunaga and Lord Hideyoshi – neither of whom find it easy to refuse Lady Mai either. However, Lord Mitsuhide has stated he has another task for Lady Mai… This prompted Lord Hideyoshi to use more words I am not comfortable writing down.
Two days after leaving the mountains, I arrived at Azuchi Castle. Kyubei left me waiting near the gate, while he alerted Mitsuhide to our arrival. Though I’d previously spent a couple weeks in the castle town, I’d never been inside Azuchi castle itself and I was happy enough to have some time within the gates to look around. Up close, the tenshu was impressive building, rising from a thick stone base, up seven stories to tower over the hillside. There was even a balcony surrounding the uppermost floor, and I wondered if Nobunaga spent much time up there. Must be nice to be able to see the entire countryside from your bedroom.
Feeling slightly like a gawking tourist, I took a step backward to get a better look, and –
WHAM!
I’d backed right into the path of a young man who’d been on his way inside, his arms loaded full of books and papers. The resulting collision sent the books to the ground and the papers into the air--
Where they were caught in a gust of wind and went flying toward the gates.
“I’m so sorry!” I helped him chase after the errant papers. We (actually I) caught most of them, but one got stuck in a tree, entangled in a branch about three meters off the ground. Without letting go of his armload of retrieved papers and books, the man tried to climb the tree, and ended up nearly dropping everything again.
Not wanting to repeat the whole chasing down experience, I piled the books, scrolls, and odd scraps of paper back in his hands and pointed to the one in the tree. “Don’t move. I’ll get that one,” I told him, and scampered up to retrieve the page. I jumped down and gave him the paper, which he accepted with a quick bow. “I hope you’ll be able to put them all back in order.”
“There was no order to it – although… that would make it easier to keep track of it all, wouldn’t it?” He shuffled everything into an untidy bundle and tucked it all under his arm. “Thank you for your assistance, and my apologies for walking into you.”
Now that I was no longer scrambling after his paperwork, I finally was able to get a good look at him – messy dark grey hair falling into distracted violet eyes and a lovely, but unfocussed smile. I’ve seen him before! The clumsy bookworm… Mitsuyori? No… Mitsunari. Well, how could I forget the booksellers’ most loyal customer (who never actually bought anything)? Of course, since I couldn’t admit to spending time in Azuchi disguised as an elderly bookseller, I kept my expression neutral and pretended this was our first encounter.
“Actually, I think I walked into you. I was looking up at the tenshu. It’s spectacular.” I turned my face to the top of the castle once more.
He nodded, then smiled at me again, this time at least seeming to register my presence. “I remember how I felt when I first came here two years ag- Oh no! Why am I here?”
He stared hard at the castle, as if some stray thought was eluding him the way the papers had nearly eluded me. Since I doubted the question was either rhetorical or existential, I stayed quiet while he continued to gaze at the castle walls. “I didn’t mean to come here today; I’m supposed to be -” His expression changed to panic when the guard on the towers called out the change in vigil. “I’m late! Please accept my apology for running you over.”
“Of course, but it was my fau-” I stopped because he had already turned around and rushed down the hill.
Huh.
I watched him until he disappeared from view.
Sweet.
But… possibly not tethered to reality.
“Katsu!” Kyubei tapped my arm to catch my attention. “We’re to meet Lord Nobunaga in the tenshu.”
Dismissing the young man from my thoughts, I followed Kyubei up (and up, and up) to the top of the tenshu, where Oda Nobunaga was waiting for us in his rooms. Without prompting from Kyubei, I bowed low, aware that this was a formal audience, and possibly the first test of my manners.
In return, Nobunaga lightly dipped his head. When I finally rose and met his eyes, there was a hint of amusement in them. As it turned out, Nobunaga remembered ‘Katsu’ from our encounter in Osaka earlier this year.
“Fortune works in interesting ways, for you’ve ended up working for me after all, Katsu.” He lounged on a dias in an indolent pose, but there was an aura of kinetic energy around him that suggested he could go from restful to predator in an instant. “However- did you not say that you worked for a merchant who is like a father to you? Mitsuhide left me with the understanding that he was reaching out to a man who has some dealings in espionage.”
I bowed again. “Is a spy not a merchant of information?” Then, because he seemed to be in limbo between trust and distrust,” I added. “My business in Osaka the day we met was personal. I was not there spying for my master, and indeed my work for him generally only involves delivering messages. I didn’t tell him that we’d met.” I might have done so otherwise had not so many other things not occurred that day. In fact, I was flattered Nobunaga remembered me at all given that someone had tried to kill him that night.
While he seemed to think that over, I took in my surroundings. Like Aki’s office, there was a western influence in Nobunaga’s rooms, although the European objects (huh, he had even had what looked like a child’s stuffed bear mixed in there) displayed amongst Japanese works were displayed with more taste and flair. It was like the difference between walking into an episode of hoarders, versus walking into a museum. Then again, Azuchi castle had only been completed a couple years ago – Nobunaga likely hadn’t had enough time to accumulate the volume of tchotchkes that necessitates a once-a-decade konmarie purge.
Politeness required that I stay quiet until spoken to, and in any case additional exploration would have to wait, as a pair of voices approached. The combatants were arguing so loudly that I could hear them long before they appeared in the doorway.
“- this must be the most ridiculous scheme you’ve ever dreamed up,” said one man, sounding like he had had it up to here with the other person. “You have yet to convince me that you have any chance of success.”
“My dear Hideyoshi, you don’t need to be convinced. You only need to stay out of the way,” came the reply in a cool, mocking tone of voice, as a silver haired man came into the room. At his heels was this ‘Hideyoshi’ – yet another man I recognized from the booksellers. If I thought he had looked frazzled back then, it was nothing compared to him now. He had the look of a man who woke up every day to discover that imps had rearranged his furniture and placed his desk directly in the path of his shin. Then again, the other man had the look of a person who would indeed rearrange furniture; then stand by to watch the fun. So perhaps Hideyoshi came by his frazzle honestly.
Both stopped talking when they saw me standing there. Both subjected me to long, assessing stares. Ok guys, dial it back a notch… I’m not a used car you’re buying off the internet. “This is the young man you’re going to pass off as a Princess?” Hideyoshi crossed his arms and frowned as he turned to Nobunaga. “My lord, please, put a stop to this now. There are other ways we can handle this situation.”
Hm… should I feel insulted or complimented? While I was glad that my male disguise was so convincing, it was hurtful not to be deemed feminine enough to portray a girl. Although it was also possible that Hideyoshi was so against this plan that even someone like Miyahara Satoko would not be considered feminine enough.
Ignoring Hideyoshi, the other man (who I was certain had to be Mitsuhide) circled me, apparently mentally kicking my tires… and if he thinks he can open the hood and peek into the engine, my tires are going to kick him back. “I hate to admit you have a point. It may be impossible to turn this one into a convincing woman.”
I was seconds away from throwing myself a gender reveal party when I caught the teasing expression in Mitsuhide’s eyes. Ah ha ha… he knew I was female. This was a test. With an exaggerated eyelash flutter, I dropped into a graceful and dramatic bow, and said in my best boy-pretending-to-be-a-girl falsetto, “Why Lord Aketchi, that wasn’t what you said when you propositioned me in Kyoto last week.”
That earned me a smothered laugh from Kyubei and a long look from Mitsuhide. He turned to Nobunaga. “She’ll do.”
“Yes. I have prior acquaintance with Katsu and have judged him quick witted and resourceful. Your plan has merit.” Nobunaga didn’t exactly finish his statement with the words, ‘the great and powerful Oz has spoken,’ … but it was implied.
Hideyoshi stepped back as if he had been stung. I almost felt sorry for him, but my ego was still pouting from before.
I turned back to Nobunaga, figuring I’d better let him in on my current disguise. “Thank you. As it happens, I’m actually-”
“I’m sorry!” A pretty woman about my age hurried into the room. She was the epitome of femininity, even with (especially with?) a smear of rice flour across her face, and I wondered why she hadn’t been tapped to portray this Princess. “Masamune has been teaching me how to make dumplings.”
Nobunaga patted the cushion at his side. “Should I be jealous of the time you’re spending with the one-eyed dragon?” But his scolding was accompanied by a fond smile that transformed his fierce mien into something softer and more approachable.
The woman snuggled into his side with a smile. “Perhaps I am learning to cook something special for you.” He kissed her hand and for a moment the two of them might have been encased in their own personal bubble. I looked away, feeling like I was spying on a private moment.
Mitsuhide had no such restraint. “Mai, might I interest in you in a rather large sewing commission?”
She sat up straight and looked at him with excited interest. “Do tell.”
Hideyoshi gestured to me. “This is Katsu. Can you possibly-” he sighed. “Turn him into a girl?”
That earned me her intense scrutiny. She smiled. “You mean, back into a girl.”
I like her.
“Little Mouse, you’re always surprising me with your hidden depths.” Mitsuhide turned his attention to Kyubei. “Akihira determined that this person-.”
“Katsuko.” Kyubei supplied my true name. “She’s been my contact through Akihira for the past four years and I believe she is suitable for this task.”
“I trust your judgment.” Mitsuhide bowed respectfully to Kyubei. It was a bow of a friend to a friend, not a master to a servant, and my estimation of Mitsuhide rose slightly in due to the positive way he treated his subordinate.
“Now hold on!” Hideyoshi’s frown had intensified and his hair puffed out in kinetic disapproval. “The only reason I agreed to this in the first place was because you agreed to find a boy to play the princess… It’s too dangerous otherwise.” He directed his final objection to Mai, as if hoping for a female voice to help overrule Mitsuhide.
“I can handle myself in combat.” Well. I could defend myself, at least, then run like hell. I gave Hideyoshi my best scornful look. “If you’re not convinced, I can prove it in your dojo or on your archery grounds.” I could prove it here and now, but I sensed that Hideyoshi had a low tolerance for sharp objects too close to Nobunaga. Speaking of… he hadn’t said a word yet either for or against my participation. I glanced over to see if I could glean what he made of all this.
Although one of his hands was playing with Mai’s hair, he was obviously paying attention to and amused by the whole scene playing out before him. “No need for that, Katsuko. The task is to pretend to be the fiancée of one of Hideyoshi’s vassals. The only danger, and the only reason we hoped for a boy is that women have a habit of falling in love with him. Which would make our problem worse, not solve it.”
A boy might pose the same complications, but… details. “Why does he need a pretend fiancée?” If they had an incurable flirt on their hands, maybe they could just give him a good talking to?
“We’re,” Nobunaga gestured to himself, Hideyoshi, and Mai, “making a diplomatic visit to Kanamori Mozumi, a daimyo who has recently begun to mine silver in his territory, to discuss an alliance. As Genba castle is renowned for containing an expansive archive, I intend to bring our strategist along. However, Mozumi also has a seventeen-year-old daughter - Shohime, who visited here last summer, and … it appears our strategist left quite an impression on her.”
“According to my sources,” Mitsuhide added, “Mozumi has contracted a marriage between Shohime and a Daimyo from Tsuruga, and he would not be pleased if anything were to ruin his plans.”
“Understood. Tsuruga is on the coast, and Mozumi wants access to trade routes to export the silver to Korea and China. With income from the silver and alliance with you, Lord Nobunaga, Mozumi will triple his power and influence – as long as he can keep both the son-in-law and your alliance.” It also confirmed Aki’s take on the situation in Hida. Given the increasing demand for Japanese silver, and it was clear that Nobunaga would prefer to keep relations with Mozumi peaceful. Granted, with his armies and allies, he could also just take over Mozumi’s territory, but why waste the manpower and time if Mozumi was willing to treat with him?
My job, apparently, was to make sure that Hideyoshi’s vassal didn’t distract the Kanamori princess from her contracted fiancé.
“Yes, that’s an accurate summary of the issues involved.” Rather than sounding pleased at my knowledge, Hideyoshi continued to look skeptical. Maybe he wasn’t used to women having a grasp of politics?
“I get to make a wedding kimono?” Mai’s look of excitement could probably brighten a dark room.
“It won’t reach that point – Katsuko is simply a diversion. But...” Hideyoshi looked at me and heaved a pained sigh. “She needs clothing that would reflect positively on the Oda.”
She rubbed her hands together. “When do we start?” Ok, this girl really takes her sewing seriously.
Mitsuhide gestured toward the door. “Preferably last week, but since that’s not possible, now will be acceptable.”
Without another word, Mai jumped to her feet, grabbed my hand, and literally dragged me out before I realized I hadn’t even learned the name of my fake fiancée. I half turned back to ask, but Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide were already nose-to-nose in another argument. Eeek. Better to just let them wallow in their U.S.T.
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Mai led me through the castle to a room filled with various fabrics, and what looked like multiple projects in progress. A couple nearly-finished kimonos were displayed on racks – lovely jewel-toned pieces with intricate patterns and embroidery. “Stand there, please.” She pointed to a box and took out a long string to measure me.
“Oh. Let me just get rid of-” I wiggled out of the leather corset-binder that was keeping me flat. “I won’t be sorry to put that away for a few weeks.”
“There’s got to be a better way.” Mai looked at the binder with disgust. The better way would have been my sports bra, but it died even before my still mourned hoodie. Unfortunately, it’s not like we had access to lycra here. “Do you have any preferences? Color? Style?” Mai went to a writing desk where there was a stack of paper and several different sized brushes.
Androgyny… but make it fashion.
“Something not terribly restrictive. And. Not pink.” I shot a look at a turquoise kimono on display – that one was more or less to my taste.
“I must overrule that.” Mitsuhide stood in the doorway flanked by Hideyoshi. Apparently, they kissed and made up. “Soft pastels – including pink.”
“Pink is certainly appropriate,” Hideyoshi agreed.
Great. Now they agree.
Mai quickly wrapped a yukata around me. She pointed to the men in the doorway. “Out!”
Right. I wasn’t very well dressed. It’s not that I have no modesty… more that neither of them were looking at me as if I were an object of desire, but rather a tool to be sharpened and polished. Ignoring her, Mitsuhide undid my braid.
He visibly flinched at my hair.
Hideyoshi actually recoiled.
Yeah, it’s not in any particular style and there are pieces that are much shorter than the rest, causing it to stick out in chunks everywhere.
“What happened? Were you in a fire?” Kyubei had joined us and looked at my hair with fascinated revulsion.
“Fume did it.” And then I tried to fix it with my dagger.
Hideyoshi turned to Mai. “We’re going to need more maids.”
Cue Jaws theme in head.
After that, the afternoon passed in a blur of discussions, haircut, fittings, hand cream, face cream, cream cream and…
Help, I’m trapped in a makeover montage!
By the end of the ordeal, I was buffed and shined and primped and folded, spindled and mutilated until I didn’t recognize my reflection in the mirror that Mai had unearthed. I’d taken on plenty of identities over the past seven years, but this one seemed even further away from Katsuko than my old man disguise.
Also… I had zero likelihood of being able to replicate this complicated hairstyle on my own.
Mai adjusted one of the folds on the kimono – one of her own that she was loaning to me until she and her team could finish my – for want of a better word- trousseau. Then she turned me around to face the men who were judging my transformation.
Category is: Sengoku Princess Excellence.
“I’m ashamed to admit I never realized you were a girl.” Kyubei bowed to the new me.
“Thank you.” That was a nice compliment on both levels. “I’m sorry I teased you about the mountain path.”
“An improvement.” Only the most charitable would call Mitsuhide’s expression a smile. Smirk. He smirked. “One would hope you can manage to also behave demurely and gracefully, Okatsu.”
‘Okatsu?’ Hm, alright. Disguises were always easier when I thought of myself as a new person. And ‘Katsuko,’ as Fume had stated repeatedly, was not a common name here. As for demure and graceful… well the first three responses I thought of were neither demure, nor graceful, so I settled for a faint smile, downcast eyes, and plans to get even with Mitsuhide later.
Apparently though, Mitsuhide’s not so subtle jab earned me sympathy points from Hideyoshi… which might have been his objective after all? If so, well played, sir. “You look lovely, Okatsu, and I am sure your manners are acceptable.”
There wasn’t much I could add to that, so I simply gave Hideyoshi another appropriately demure smile, while I crossed my fingers behind my back that I could remember everything about protocol that Aki had tried to teach me. When all else fails, smile and nod.
Anyway, I supposed I was ready to meet my so-called fiancé. Who was… where was he anyway? Maybe he was hiding? “Er, this man I’m pretending to be engaged to… he is ok with this, right?”
Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi looked at each other. Silently. Possibly communicating telepathically.
Well, that wasn’t a good sign.
“He does, at least know about this?” I had no doubts that I could squash the overtures of an unrepentant flirt, or, even have a bit of fun with one if I were in the right frame of mind – but it would be easier if he had at least agreed to this plan before I was foisted upon him.
“Did you?” Mitsuhide asked Hideyoshi.
“Of course I did!” In his annoyance Hideyoshi looked like a puffer fish, trying to make himself look bigger to broadcast his defense. “I informed him last night. I believe he heard me.” Then, more softly. “Hopefully, he’ll remember.”
After this ominous tidbit, Mitsuhide said with obviously false cheer, “Of course he will remember. I’m certain he’s looking forward to meeting Okatsu.”
The looks on everyone’s faces ranged from disbelief (Kyubei) to outright worry (Hideyoshi)… well, Mai, at least seemed convinced as she fanned her wet eyes and let out a happy sob. “I love weddings.”
Hm. Against all current evidence, I trusted Mitsuhide. Alright, I didn’t trust him specifically, but from everything Aki and Kyubei had ever told me about him, I trusted that Mitsuhide knew what he was doing. But I wasn’t sure that he cared as much about the people enmeshed in his schemes as he cared about the schemes themselves. Probably this plan would work, but it wasn’t likely to be easy.
But hopefully, a nice quiet meeting between myself and Faux Fiance would clear up any confusion and allow us to figure out how to play thi-
“Well, shall we join them in the meeting hall, where Masamune has prepared a meal in honor of your engagement celebration?” Mitsuhide bowed and gestured us to the door.
Celebration? Just how many people will be witnessing my first meeting with… and what the heck was this man’s name anyway?
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@lorei-writes @lyds323 @bestbryn @katriniac @briars7
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divinegrey · 2 years
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Fade Headcanons (NSFW)
good morning folks! here to deliver a steaming plate of headcanons for everyone's favorite nightmare lady, Fade! Just a reminder, my inbox is back open! Check out the post here to see what you can and can't request! On with the show!
prompt: I hope you had a nice day! Before I request, I just want to say I absolutely love your valorant fics! If it’s okay with you, how about some spicy relationship headcanons for Fade?
words: 622
warnings: NSFW themes, 18+ only post!
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Slightly Spicy Headcanons
Fade is the kind of woman who’s absolutely insatiable when it comes to making out. She loves every second of it, of that closeness that you share when your lips are locked and your bodies are pressed firmly together. 
Speaking of, you know how she has piercings? Yeah, I’m calling it here; Fade would have a tongue piercing for SURE. And if you’ve never kissed anyone with a tongue piercing, then you’re in for a whole world of sensations. You can feel it when you tongue kiss her and it’s more than a little addicting (plus the piercing helps out when she goes down south, iykwim)
Fade is religious when it comes to her black lipstick, and more often than not, wears it because she knows you’ll smudge it when you kiss her. She likes it, and she likes it even more when there’s black lipstick smeared over your mouth or your neck. 
She can also be kinda possessive! It shows through the hickies she gives you, but more likely, the prowlers that seem to follow you whenever you’re on base. You don’t mind they’re company (they’re kinda cute!) and knowing that they’re Fade’s prowlers watching over you makes it all the better. 
Very Spicy Headcanons
Fade isn’t picky when it comes to being on top or the bottom; she’s all for just making you feel good, so she can very easily switch depending on context. 
Top Fade is all cocky and a little mean, but only in the teasing sense. She’d rather jump off a cliff before hurting your feelings, but if you like being roughed around, then Fade is all too happy to do so. 
If you hand over your control to her, Fade will make it one hundred percent worth your while. After dating you for so long, she knows everything that makes you tick and all the sensitive spots that really get you going. If you prefer her mouth, then you’ll feel the tongue piercing. If you like her fingers, then give her a few seconds to take all the rings off before she blows your back out. 
Bottom Fade is a completely different story. 
She’ll praise you for making her feel good and while you’re at it, you’ll hear her cursing in Turkish or saying something to you that most of the time, you don’t understand. Your knowledge of Turkish is minute, but you recognize some of the phrases she says the most often. Fade is very prone to calling you pet names, especially when she’s on the receiving end. 
Fade’s prowlers will make an appearance if she’s unable to hold that part of herself back in the midst of sex— she never means to scare you, but they’re not something she can reign in when she’s busy taking care of you. Once, you experimented with her using her tether to bind your wrists. 
That was a night to remember. 
Upon realizing that you definitely liked that, Fade feels more comfortable using her abilities in bed to a more powerful extent. She will never use your fears against you, but she absolutely will use her nightmares to hold you down. 
And to finish it all off: Fade definitely has nipple piercings. 
They’re just so fucking hot AAAAAAAA
You still can’t believe this gorgeous woman is your girlfriend? How the hell did you get so lucky?
Diverging away from the spicy stuff, aftercare is so important for Fade. She requires a lot of it, as well as reassurance (especially after moments where she uses her abilities on you), and cuddling is almost always required after sex with Fade. She needs to hear your heart in your chest to know you’re okay and that you’re safe. 
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A/N: that's all folks! Thank you to the person who submitted this request, I hope it was alright! Also, side note: if you request headcanons, I'm more likely to go write those because they're shorter and easier to do! Thanks for reading <3
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koolkat9 · 4 months
Text
Royal Red Bros Week 2024 - Day 2
@royalredbrosweek
Prompt: Lost || Study Abroad/Exchange
Rating: T
Relationship: England + Canada
Word Count: 546
Read on AO3
Author's Note: Fun fact. This is based on a personal experience from my exchange!
Not Alone
Getting dropped in the middle of nowhere was a great summary of how this whole exchange experience had been so far.
Matthew looked at his app, wondering if he missed the stop he was supposed to get off at to reach town, but no, this was where the app sent him. He grunted, shoving the phone in his pocket.
He started walking towards a nearby suburb and what looked like a collection of stores just beyond it. He spotted a man just ahead, heading the same way. Heart hammering in his chest, stomach flip-flopping, Matthew approached the man.
“Um…Excuse me sir…I-I was just wondering if I’m going the right way to reach the main part of town?”
The man turned to him, brow raised. He was silent for a moment. Matthew shrunk back.
Finally, the man spoke. “Yes. I’m heading that way right now actually.”
“Cool. Awesome. Um…” Matthew tugged lightly at the strings of his sweatshirt.
The man started walking a gestured towards him.“Come along. We’re heading the same way, and you’re clearly not from around here.”
The man spoke sharply, much like his features. It made Matthew straighten up when he spoke.
“A-Alright. Thank you.”
The two walked in silence for a moment. Matthew couldn’t stop looking around at the houses. Many looked straight out of a fairy tale with Tudor siding and worn brick.
“So, where are you from?” The man finally asked.
“Ah. Canada. Just outside Ottawa.”
The man’s face softened slightly, almost as if he was suppressing a smile. “Ah, Canada. Have a daughter out there. Lived there for almost a decade actually, but I was on the east coast.”
“Oh? Where might I ask?”
“New Brunswick. Then I moved to Southern Ontario to be closer to my daughter and her wife.”
Matthew nodded along. “Nice, nice.”
“Are you here on holiday?”
“No. Exchange actually. For about a year.”
“Oh, so are you at the university just down the road?”
Matthew nodded, weight being lifted with each word. “Yeah. I just wanted to get out and explore the area so I came here.”
The two eventually reached the main street. Or at least what Matthew assumed was something like a main street. There were shops, cafes, all things he could check out. The man pointed towards some shops he liked to browse, a cafe that he stated served the best scones, and the waterfront where he liked to sit and read.
“Will you be good from here?” The man asked.
“I think so. Thank you for all your help.”
“Oh, here.” The man pulled out a notebook from his pocket and scribbled something onto the page. “My name is Arthur, and if you ever would like to chat or get together for dinner or coffee. Feel free to reach out." Arthur paused for a moment, looking off to the side wistfully. "I…I know it can feel lonely so far from home without knowing anyone around you. And if I can alleviate some of that…”
Matthew took the paper and stared down at it in awe. “Thank you…that means a lot actually.”
Arthur patted his back. “Now I got groceries to get. Enjoy your adventure lad.”
Matthew smiled softly and nodded before taking off towards the waterfront.
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teenagedirt · 1 year
Text
Watch it.
Tony perry x reader
Warning: argument.
Note:I realize this is similar to another tony perry imagine I did, but I get inspired from prompts or requests, and I don't have any requests right now. Also, I base somethings off of myself. Like the whole never going to the fair or anything is based off myself.
Your pov
Me and tony have been walking around the carnival all day, i found it incredibly fun, I never got to experience the carnival or fair as a kid. "Thank you turtle" I say, holding my icecream cone that he had insisted on paying for.
"No problem darling" he says as he pecks my lips. "I've gotta go to the bathroom, you gonna roam around or wait?"
"I'll wait" I say as I lean against the wall, next to the bathrooms. A man starts to approach me, i think nothing of it, I meet fans all the time.
"Hey, you y/n," he asks, his voice sounding intimating.
"Yeah! Are you a fan?" I ask, this guy is towering over me, and it's starting to scare me a bit.
"No. I'm the opposite, you aren't even good enough for that boyfriend you have" he says, I roll my eyes, I get told that everyday on the internet. I feel Tony's hands on my waist.
"The fuck did you say?" Tony asks, his eyes filled with anger.
"I was tellin that bitch the truth" the man responded, tony wasn't pleased, nor was be impressed.
"Don't ever, and I mean ever talk to her like that again. Matter of fact don't even talk to her you fucker" Tony glares as the man as we walk off hand in hand.
"It really wasn't that bad tony" I say as we walk his hand firmly holding mine. "He want even original with it" I try to reassure him.
"What do you mean he wasn't original with it? Does this happen often?" He asks, his face washes over with worry.
"Well not in real life no. On the internet yes, but I chose a job in the public eye, it'd my fault, it comes with the job." I say and squeeze his hand slightly in a loving way.
"Y/n why didn't you tell me?" He asks as we make it back to the car.
I shrug, "I guess I didn't think it was important" Tony opens the door for me and I get in. He gets in the drivers side.
"It is important, and I know your going to ask why so I'll just tell you. It'd important because I hate to see the person I love so very much get insulted, bullied" he pauses "I'm not mad at you or anything like that, I just want you to know that anything to do with you is important to me" he finishes off his statement. He places a han don the side of my face and gently kisses me.
"Thank you" I whisper, and we drive home.
○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○
Back on my writing grind.
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bookwormscififan · 5 months
Text
First Kiss
Read on AO3!
A/N: This is based on a prompt from @iamvegorott of Mare and Mad's first kiss.
--
Mad stared at his reflection in the mirror, looking into his eyes and counting the red flecks in his irises. His hands gripped the vanity tightly, biting his lip as he forced himself to breathe. It’s just a kiss, it’s not like he’ll leave if I do it wrong.
Mare had taken him to see an orchestra for a date night, hand resting on his knee throughout the performance. He had then bought Mad dinner at a fancy restaurant, fondly wiping food off the corner of his mouth with his napkin. Mad invited him home, and now he was panicking in the bathroom while Mare explored his book collection in the living room.
Taking a final deep breath, Mad splashed water on his face and dried off, loosening the tie around his neck and slapping his thighs, heading back outside with mantras of confidence in his mind.
“Are you alright? Was there something wrong with the dinner?” Mare asked when Mad entered the room, the concern in his voice making Mad’s heart flutter. He almost chickened out again, pausing in the doorway before shaking himself internally and moving to sit on the couch, motioning for Mare to sit beside him.
“I’m alright,” he replied, clearing his throat when the words stuck. “I’m fine, I just needed to clear my mind a little.” He held his breath when Mare reached out to hold his shoulder, thumb gently pressing into the dip between shoulder joint and collarbone.
“You seem tense,” Mare commented, shifting closer to Mad and ducking his head to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong? What are you thinking about in that wonderfully clever head of yours?” His compliment made Mad blush, averting his eyes and pinching the base of his palm.
“I just—” Mad cut himself off, swallowing around the lump in his throat as tears pricked the back of his eyes. “Tonight was so wonderful, and I know people usually have a kiss on the third date, and I just worry that I’m not going to be good at it and you’ll leave!” He let out in a rush, freezing when Mare took his hand in one of his, other hand moving to his chin to turn his head to face him.
“You’re overthinking a kiss?” Mare asked, looking into Mad’s eyes to understand what he was saying, his own eyes widening as he noticed the gleam in Mad’s eye. “Mad, have you been kissed before?” His gaze softened when Mad pursed his lips, nodding slightly as his blush darkened.
“I’ve never been kissed,” Mad admitted, words coming out without his control. “I-I’ve been so busy researching and experimenting, and you’re the first person I’ve really spent time with and felt things for, and I just—” he was cut off by Mare using his grip on his chin to pull him closer, gently pressing his lips to Mad’s before pulling away, opening his hand to cup Mad’s cheek.
“I…” Mad stammered, face bright red and mouth slightly open, looking at Mare with glassy eyes. He wet his lips, tongue swiping over his bottom lip before he twisted his hand in Mare’s grip, entwining their fingers. “Can you do that again?” Mare smiled at him, pulling him closer again.
Mad closed his eyes when their lips met this time, feeling the softness of Mare’s mouth against him and shivering when Mare moved, lips moulding to his own before he slid his tongue across his lip, pushing his tongue into Mad’s mouth when he gasped. Mad was breathless when Mare pulled away, lips red and eyes half-lidded. “Nothing to overthink,” Mare chuckled, holding Mad’s face with both hands when he dove in for another kiss.
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@brokentimewatch
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loonatic-moon · 9 days
Note
Back again! You have a great point. 0 is what really revived the series in the west and Akiyama hasn’t really been prominent since before that. At least he was in 6! But yeah… not the most prominent… at least the Akikiryu food there was good.
I always thought Akiyama’s appearance fit in pretty well in 5 myself. Sure he didn’t really have a dream of his own to pursue (an interesting aspect to his character!), but in a way, his whole shtick is helping make dreams come true. To help those who need it most… but yeah I can also sorta see what people mean. 5 has to contain some of my all time favorite Akiyama moments though so I’m no doubt extremely biased.
And oh! You started with 5? Wild! Now that makes me super curious as to how you felt when you went back and played through 4 since I feel like there are slightly different vibes between the two. Not so much uncle/dad energy for one.
I can definitely see what you’re saying about Yagami! I’ve even seen some people say that Yagami’s fighting style (Crane really) fits what Akiyama wants to do. It makes a lot of sense.
True. I am happy to see Akiyama in whatever, even if he plays a minor role. He fits in pretty well as a supporting character so if that’s all RGG can/will do with him then… so be it. And yeah! Hana! Bring my girl back RGG! And hey, if Akiyama’s next role is in a turn based game, Hana would also work really well in that system! We know she can kick ass!
And omg if you write more Akikiryu, you’ll be my hero. I mean. You already are for feeding us fans with some great food, but more content of the moneylender with another man’s face on his necklace, a man he is definitely not yearning for, from you is a welcome treat!
Oh god, Y4 was a very different experience for so MANY reasons, lmao. I vastly prefer Y5 Akiyama to Y4 Akiyama to be honest, but there's something to be said about Y4's protrayal.
I went and played through Akiyama's Y4 bit right after I finished 5 because I had to know what this guy's deal was (and because I had already made the insane choice to jump in the deep end with the franchise). I definitely didn't love the whole Yasuko plot and being a dead ringer for his ex-gf, nor the shit that had also carried over into Y5 like having female clients work at a hostess club as a test. Questionable creative decisions at best. But like most other characters in the RGG universe, the narrative also doesn't make any bones about the fact that Akiyama is a flawed human in an industry that's often adjacent to the criminal underworld, despite his more noble philosophies. That's much of why I find this series so enjoyable, after all.
But anyway, after having played Y4 and the rest of the series by now, I personally still think Akiyama has one of the best opening/introduction scenes for any character in the franchise. I think his conversation with the baby yakuza is wonderfully done just from a narrative standpoint. And damn, all that shit he said to Kiryu in New Serena when they first met? Kinda confirmed my strong suspicions from Y5 that this guy has a Thing for Kiryu. Like most people, to be fair, but his Thing is with a capital-T. It was enough to prompt me to write Dragon and the Sky, haha.
Anyway, I didn't mean to go off on a rambly quasi-analysis, but I've thought a lot about the reasons his character fascinates me and has had staying power with fans-- not the least of which is he's like Kiryu in that he was once someone who was at the top of his game, who then took the fall for someone else and lost everything. I always found that to be an interesting template that RGG chose for him...
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, as always!
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sarasa-cat · 11 months
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Still feeling behind on EVERYTHING.
(Slightly grumbly that partner let me sleep for an hour after my alarm went off. Dude. No. Alarm went off for a reason. Ggghhhhhhhhh.)
Some interesting writing experiments behind the cut
Everything today has taken longer than planned BUT, for a change of pace while writing -- and actually make it to my breakfast or brunch (depending on the time) writing session -- I started one of those solo journaling RPGs. The way I have it set up, it will take me 13 sessions to complete. Today was session 1 which was actually a double session as I wrote and collaged two pages for two prompt sets. Or, actually, it was a triple session if counting the fact that I needed to read through the whole zine from beginning to end, think on it for a moment to decide how I would set up my "house rules" for this run, set up the template for a page layout in a digital file that includes space for text and images I will generate each day, and then select the randomizer tools I wanted to use -- the shadowscape tarot, no dice -- and get the cards sorted out and ready for use in this solo TTRPG.
I am using the "Yourself" solo journaling tarot-based TTRPG (which just went on 50% off sale and is cheaper than most cups of coffee!) -- https://k-ramstack.itch.io/yourself
The first session produced 1215 words as it was a little longer given how I have set up my house rules.
These words were fast and easy to write. Not exactly memoir fiction. Not exactly urban fantasy. Somewhere in between.
There is a solidness and a sense of ease to this that I like.
I suspect that when I am done after the 13 days of this, I will end up with 8000 to 9000 words. With the exception of the first day and last day, all of the days in the middle involve a single prompt generated from two tarot cards (and the TTRPG rules) and I've digitally created space in my template for approximately 580-600 words per day.
While this will give me enough words to expand a little bit into a novella, I suspect the 8 to 9k words I will produce in two weeks won't have the glue to totally stand alone but they will likely become something I can rework and reuse once I figure out which direction I want to take it. (Potential direction as of today: standalone urban fantasy story? Illustrated art-n-story book? Character development to fold into my sff universe? Bits and piece of text to scavenge and reuse in a variety of things?)
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Given that today was an eeexxxxxttttrrraaaa long session getting all of this set up and ready to go, plus a double writing session so I could make sure my digital template is working for me, all of the time I spent today kicking this off won't be reflective of my daily effort for the next 12 days. I suspect it will take me 30-45 minutes daily to put together a page of ~580 fresh new words plus images (clipped from various sources for personal use, yes, some are copyrighted by other ppl, which includes images of the tarot cards thus I cannot show the pages even if I felt compelled to).
And that will leave me time to get back to existing WIPs, to start other new writing experiments, or both.
...
Currently sticking this post here for sake of sticking it somewhere.
That said, I will soon start up an actual writing blog rather quietly tbh. If following my pro-self's writing blog is something of interest, let me know.
No clue when I will take the time to start up my public writing blog because I currently feel so behind on everything but-- just putting that out there as a future thing for sometime this summer.
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drades-lair · 7 months
Text
Tail
Fandom: HelluvaBoss
Rating: M
Pairing(s): Straz
Evening sunk into the small random town in Envy, fresh off a good meal of pizza and beer Striker and Chaz were having a heavy make out session on the queen-sized bed. Striker was propped up against the headboard with Chaz laying along him, hands lazily exploring one another’s half naked bodies when Chaz pulled from the casual kiss.
“What’s up fishy?” Striker wondered.
“I was wondering, could I touch your tail tonight?” Chaz asked in turn.
“Huh? My tail?” Striker asked in surprise with a reflexive rattle.
“Yeah, I know it’s a little personal…but we’ve been doing this for a while now and I was wondering if you’d be comfortable with me touching it,” Chaz explained.
“I…suppose Yer right…” Striker hesitantly agreed.
“We don’t have too, I thought I’d ask though because we have been having sex for so long,” Chaz assured Striker upon noticing the imp’s hesitation.
“Nah, yer right,” Striker instantly shot back suddenly filled with renewed confidence as he slithered his tail between them with a soft rattle. Chaz beamed with excitement, but he stayed calm in order not to risk Striker changing his mind.
Chaz watched as Striker’s tail coiled loosely around his wrist prompting him to gently caress along the smoothness of the imp’s tail. Striker didn’t have a massive reaction to the initial touches however the more Chaz explored the long, smooth appendage the more of a reaction Chaz received. Sitting back on his heels Chaz slid the fingers of his free hand over the flat expanse of Striker’s spade earning him a soft rattle in return, the shark had come to learn not all Striker’s rattling noises were aggressive or signs of irritation instead they could be for excitement or a sign of approval particularly during sex. Watching Striker carefully Chaz slid his hand further up the imp’s tail allowing him to wrap around his arm, exploring the imp’s first tail spine he came across by running his fingers along it. Striker’s tail spines were flexible yet still hard enough to do damage should he wish to use them as weapons or if someone was stupid enough to grab them, to Chaz they reminded him of the fins on sharks’ backs including his own. Striker kept his eyes on Chaz as the shark worked his way up the imp’s tail, biting his bottom lip when Chaz played around the bases of his spines which in themselves had no feeling however where spine met skin was sensitive to touch. Chaz planted a hand on the mattress on the opposite side of Striker allowing him to lean over the imp once more and allowed him to slide his hand underneath Striker’s body to where his tail protruded from his jeans, experimenting with pressure as well as placement to see what got Striker going. Without a belt Striker’s jeans were loose enough for Chaz to slide his hand down the back where he slid Striker’s tail between his fingers, applied a little pressure then rubbed shallowly and that resulted in the biggest reaction from Striker including a deep moan, tail rattling with excitement while his back arched slightly.
“F-Fuck! Chaz! Do that again!” Striker urged.
“Ha-ha, your wish is my command,” Chaz giggled as he continued the motion.
Striker continued to moan into a deep growl, reaching up to grab Chaz’s face to pull the shark into a deep kiss. The kiss was all tongue with teeth, Striker’s hand pulling incessantly yet gently at Chaz’s hair while he groaned into the shark’s mouth with his hips starting to roll into the open air. Chaz shifted slightly to place his knee between Striker’s thighs, returning the kiss as his eager partner started grinding against his knee in time with the shark’s rubbing at the base of Striker’s tail. It was always a delight for Chaz when he could get Striker all riled up like this, pulling deep growls and grunts from the imp while he got all aggressive. Once Chaz could clearly feel Striker’s arousal against his knee the shark stopped his administrations allowing Striker a moment to breath, pulling from the rough kiss they’d been sharing that had even managed to draw some blood.
“Ready for a ride?” Striker drawled so low it made Chaz nearly cream his pants instantly.
Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat Chaz nodded his confirmation then proceeded to sit back on his heels again, undoing his pants while Striker undid his own. A few awkward moments later both had managed to shuck off their underwear and pants to the floor allowing Chaz to straddle Striker’s hips with the imp’s cock rubbing against his ass.
“Need some lube?” Striker asked, massaging his claws along Chaz’s thighs.
“Yeah…probably,” Chaz confirmed starting to pant softly as his cocks began to leak precum at the tips.
“Alright, want me too do it or you?” Striker inquired using his tail to retrieve the lube bottle from the bedside table.
“I can do it,” Chaz stated accepting the bottle from Striker.
“Okay, tell me when Yer ready,” Striker encouraged.
Chaz applied a healthy amount of lube to his fingers then planted a hand on Striker’s chest to help him balance as he reached behind himself to start prepping. Striker continued to massage Chaz’s thighs, lightly raking his claws over the shark’s skin while eyeing his cocks until he couldn’t resist touching them. Gently Striker wrapped a hand around the base of one cock, caressing upwards to the crown where he lingered, flicking the prince albert piercing with his pointer finger eliciting a deep moan from Chaz.
“Ready?” Striker checked.
“Y-yes…” Chaz confirmed in a breathy tone, pulling his fingers free of himself to plant both hands on Striker’s chest allowing him to lift his hips a little more. Striker reached down to help align Chaz’s hole with his cock prompting the shark to start lowering himself onto it. Chaz groaned upon bottoming out on Striker’s cock, hands clenching slightly on Striker’s chest and teeth gritting slightly as he adjusted to Striker’s barbs.
“Sshh…easy darlin’,” Striker eased, caressing his hands up the shark’s sides then down over his thighs again.
“I’m good…I’m…good…” Chaz assured the imp.
After a few minutes Chaz tried a hip roll then another and another until he started up a rhythm that Striker met with his own thrusts. Chaz wasn’t the best at riding cock, his long lanky limbs made it awkward for him to keep pace especially when with a partner who was shorter than him. After a while Chaz’s thighs started to shake from the effort a fact not lost on Striker as he reached up to pull Chaz down, claws wrapping around the shark’s ass as he started pounding into him causing Chaz’s cocks to rub against Striker’s stomach. Moments later the duo stiffened with a pair of guttural groans, Chaz’s cum spilling between them while Striker filled the shark before going limp with Chaz sprawled atop Striker. The duo lay together until Striker was able to pull out of Chaz however as he tried to shove the shark off Chaz refused to move, pouting with a disapproving whimper as he wrapped his arms around the imp’s torso. Too tired to argue with his partner Striker rolled his eyes, conceding that they were not cleaning up until tomorrow.     
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archetypal-archivist · 4 months
Text
There's something about the game No Man's Sky that's just really rough on my senses? It's fun but playing it is like eating sand paper.
Part of it, I think, is the bright colors and lights and how the game attempts to look lovely but mostly just seems over detailed and realistic in the wrong ways? Like, it's not softened or stylized, it's all sharp edges and light. You can't escape it, nothing looks cozy or safe. My computer can handle the graphics just fine but the lag too makes me suffer. So not only am I seeing all these sharp things, I'm seeing them in a slightly juddery way. Space flight doesn't feel smooth for me- it's like the energy put into acceleration, like getting up to speed or slowing down is traveling through oobleck. Technically my game runs fine. Things other players can do I can do too. It just feels... Bad.
The controls don't help. As a keyboard and mouse player, a lot of it doesn't come off as kinesthetically pleasing to me. Like that screen shake when you start to jetpack, I can tell that's supposed to be a controller rumble, but I don't get that feeling. I just get a sudden jolt that makes the camera feel like it's struggling to follow the character for a moment. And then walking into my base! The camera is supposed to follow the character nicely but it all just feels compressed? Like the view is claustrophobic, and entering trading hubs or ruined buildings isn't much better. Again, it's a stylistic choice of the game but it just feels bad to me! Going from open cam in the outdoors to this locked little view feels awful! Like, almost hostile, you know? Compressed.
Then how little friendly contact there is, too. NPCs abound but so few are memorable, or feel like people, or stick around in any capacity. And so few variations on NPC dialogue and personality make it feel like a world of cardboard cutouts. There are no friends in No Man's Sky but the other players and those that you can go back and visit so rarely have new dialogue for you that they don't feel like a person anymore, just a quest prompt.
A lot of my gripes with this game are me-specific or are just style choices of the game itself. Of course it's hostile, it's lonely. That's the point. But to me personally, because it's hostile and lonely and it's so hard to make something that feels quiet and kind, it feels bad to play. I like No Man's Sky as a game. I really, really don't like it as an experience.
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disordinarybeauty · 1 year
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WHAT THE PROMPT!?
WORDS ARE IMPORTANT!
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The prompt is the message. In text-to-image is everything and even a slight difference can trigger visible variations that often are hard to trace back unless, I believe, we can access the code and see it in action.
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The prompt I have adopted after many tests is this one:
"A glitch art portrait in the style of Disordinary Beauty by Italian glitch artist Domenico Barra, glitch, glitched, glitching, databending, dirty new media, processing, generative art, Domenico Dom Barra."
I have tested it mostly on starry.AI, an Android app running on Stable Diffusions.
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The reason to adopt this prompt as the "official" one for DISØRDINARY BƏAUTY 🥀🪞 {AI ƏXP∆NDƏD} is mainly due because the words adopted are very descriptive of the main glitch art NFT collection project, D.B. 🥀🪞 • ⚡BƏ∆TY IS CH∆ØS ⚡. Also, because it's minimal, and I can use it as a root to carry more prompt experiments to find out what's there hidden to be found in the vast expanded/extended social database, our collective artificial mind.
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I am very impressed by the results but as my intention is not to create a whole collection based on one prompt, I ran it several times and I was pleased by what I got, the ÆRTWØRkz feel fresh, original, with a retro twist recalling some add posters from the past, they mostly remind me of the poster for the movie Metropolis, and even after running it on different AI Systems like DALL-E 2 and Midjourney, I kind of got saturated to see the same results over and over again because that's what eventually text-to-image AI System provide, a saturation of look alike images.
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Even when exaggerating the prompt with the help of Chat-GPT:
Produce a glitch art portrait that captures the essence of Disordinary Beauty | Beauty is Chaos by Italian artist Domenico Barra through the use of glitching techniques. A dirty new media masterpiece to explore the intersection of technology and art and experiment with the boundaries of traditional portraiture to create an innovative and thought-provoking image. Create something unexpected.
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Or by just slightly twisting it with other words:
A glitch art portrait in the style of Disordinary Beauty by Italian glitch artist Domenico Dom Barra, new aesthetic, imperfection, atypical, databending, dirty new media, processing, generative art, Domenico Dom Barra
The results don't get too far away from the original prompt source.
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So I decided to push things a little further and play with different words and adding different syntax.
Create a portrait in the style of the glitch art collection Disordinary Beauty by Italian artist Domenico Barra. The person in the portrait must look real. Use 3D rendering style. The software used is Houdini and generative art software Processing. The look is new aesthetic. The technics used are databending and pixelsorting.
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I also started to add words relating to different style and softwares:
Create a portrait in the style of the glitch art collection Disordinary Beauty by Italian artist Domenico Barra. hyperrealism, 3D rendering, Houdini, Processing, new aesthetic, databending, pixelsorting.
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Pushing a little away from the root and including many more descriptive words (something started to happen):
Create a disordinary beauty portrait, imperfect, imperfection, atypical, glitch, glitchy, glitches, glitched, glitching, extreme detail, digital art, 4k, ultra hd, Glitch art, Pixelsorting , Databending, hyper detailed, cinema 4d, hyperrealism, beautiful, radiant, holographic, iridescent, photorealistic, hyperrealism, renaissance painting, unity 3d, unreal engine, cgsociety, octane render, houdini 3d, annibale carracci, anthony van dyck, caravaggio michelangelo merisi
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And even when it got a little too far off the original root prompt and style, finally some interesting images recalling the starting point came to "life" and I started to have fun:
Create a disordinary beauty portrait, imperfect, imperfection, atypical, glitch, glitchy, glitches, glitched, glitching, broken, extreme detail, digital art, 4k, ultra hd, Glitch art, Pixelsorting , Databending, hyper detailed, cinema 4d, hyperrealism, radiant, holographic, iridescent, photorealistic, hyperrealism, renaissance, new aesthetic, dirty new media, noise, unity 3d, unreal engine, cgsociety, octane render, houdini 3d, annibale carracci, anthony van dyck, caravaggio michelangelo merisi.
In this last two images, the only difference in their prompts is the word "painting" which is used in the first one but not in the second one.
Quick conclusions for now...
The AI System adopted in "text-to-image", like in any other models, is relevant, surely the database plays a key role but I believe that "the prompt is the message" because words are important and an text-to-image work can not exists without its prompt.
This is all for now. I will share more results in another post soon. Here I mostly wanted to share some images and quick notes about different prompt use and keep a record of what I am testing and experimenting.
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Text
To Kiss Your Cheeks
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Summary: At night, Baz experiences some urges…
Words: 629
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45087217
Baz couldn't sleep, so he found himself doing one of his favourite activities: observing Simon Snow sleep. It was both a pleasure and a punishment.
Looking at his cheeks, all round and rosy, was torture. His cheeks were so full of life, so full of warmth, so full of blood, that Baz felt an overwhelming desire to bite them. He was like Eve looking at the forbidden fruit. And he would be just as doomed if he even thought of tasting them. The knowledge of the punishment did nothing to dampen his desire. 
He wasn't sure if it was due to his blood lust or just his teenage urges... The only certainty was his enormous craving to bite his beloved Snow's cheeks.  Simultaneously, he wanted to spit on them and then lick the spit off them. Baz had a wicked mind.
What was Snow dreaming that caused such a crimson colour on his face? It didn't matter much, he blushed so easily, after all.  Which was one of Baz's favourite reactions.  
It was pitch dark by now and he was probably the only person awake in the whole school. He was fixated on staring at the other boy. Snow was sleeping in a fetal position and he snored loudly. It was weird to see him so relaxed and carefree. Baz wished he could keep him that way forever.
At times he thought Snow was doing everything to seduce him, at least subconsciously.  How else could a slightly chubby boy, who drooled in his sleep, appear so irresistible? Baz didn't feel able to disrupt that pretty scene, but the longing to at least kiss his cheek was burning him. And he was flammable. He rose from his bed, determined.
He walked those few steps that separated both beds at a steady pace, but he was a nervous wreck inside. He felt like the most clichéd vampire, stalking his prey while it slept. Baz didn't care. Now facing him, he bent down, aiming his mouth at Snow's right cheek to plant a peck on it. That was supposed to be all...
What he didn't expect was for the other boy to move, causing their mouths to touch gently.  It lasted only a few seconds. Baz pulled back and covered his lips. He let out a noise of surprise and was feeling breathless.
Perhaps it was an overreaction for such a small brush. But it was normal for a guy like him, who had never kissed before. And a kiss from the one he loved, to top it all off.
He was shocked when he noticed a pair of blue eyes staring at him, still somewhat blurred by sleep. Snow had also brought a hand to his lips. Once he was wide awake, he sat up in bed, looking at Baz without saying a word. A look filled... with something Baz couldn't place. He knew it was all over. Snow would hate him even more.
Baz thought his days would be over. He shut his eyes as he saw Snow raise his arms at him. If Snow killed him now, it might be better. All would be over and his soul (if he had one) could be at peace.
He felt him being pulled towards the bed and once again he was shocked. It took him several seconds to realise that Snow was kissing him, this time fully and holding him by his shoulders. Letting himself go, he returned the kiss and stroked Snow's back. To kiss like this was different, it felt so much better. 
When they separated, out of breath, Simon Snow whispered to him: "
“I should teach you how to kiss.”
Those words were wonderful to hear. Baz was eager for his future lessons in the art of kissing.
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Hello!
I intended to post this in December, but I ran out of time. I edited an old drabble in order to improve it. This is based on a prompt I found some time ago on google. 
I hope you had a lovely 14th of February <3
Thank you very much for reading. 
Ciao!
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