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hebuiltfive · 11 months

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The Alaskan Train Crash: Alaska.

It's just another average day at International Rescue.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Artist!Virgil, Post season three, slight AU, Mentions of hospitals, Mentions of Blood, description of train crash, Light Angst Series: Part 1 of The Long Game Summary: It's just another average day at International Rescue.

Notes: We're getting into the thick of the action (for this part anyway)! Not a lot really happens,. Sorry it's a shorter chapter than the last, but I had to begrudgingly make it a separate chapter so the next one didn't seem so chunky. We'll call it a filler chapter.

Read it below or on AO3 here.

By the time Virgil and Jeff arrived, Scott and Brains had already taken seats in the sunken round area of the lounge. Alan and Gordon had long since put their game away and they too were now sitting. Worried faces filled the room. Hovering over the central table was a blue hologrammatic scheme of what looked to be a freight train. Beside it, hovered the image of John from Thunderbird Five. All eyes were fixed on them.

Jeff took his seat at his desk whilst Virgil joined Scott on one of the couches. “What’s going on, John?” Their father asked, voice full of authority. Some days it had felt like he’d never left.

“Derailment in the Northern Alaska region.” John replied. “A freight train crashed around an hour ago. Initial research showed it belonged to the GDF. I can’t get a reading of anything on board.”

“Crew?” Scott asked.

“Three, apparently. Initial scans I made after I received the call showed none, but the woman confirmed two unconscious alongside herself. She was…” John uncharacteristically trailed off.

“John?”

“Let’s just say that ‘distressed’ is a mild term for how she sounded. Whatever you guys do, I suggest you be as gentle as possible.”

“You can update us as we fly.” Scott said as stood from his seat. “Gordon, you go with Virgil. Alan, stay here with Brains. Try and see if you can find something in the schematics that could have warranted a crash. I’m sure the GDF will want to know where the fault lies.”

“I’ll try and get in contact with Casey. If she doesn’t already know about this, I have a feeling she’ll want to.” Jeff added.

“FAB.” Scott nodded toward his father as he pressed his back up against the wall, hands rising to hold the light fixtures. Jeff watched from behind his desk as the three boys launched into action.

Debris littered for miles. The devastation was worse in person than what the scans had shown. Scott had flown Thunderbird One at top speed to arrive as quickly as he could. Once he arrived, he performed a quick fly-by. Only then did the realisation of the extent of the crash sink in. With the whole thing buckled and broken, he was surprised that anyone had even survived the wreck. It looked a mess. Having plowed into solid mounds of snow that had been gathered on the sides of the tracks, he figured the train must have been going at some speed when it had derailed.

“Brains, what speed was this thing travelling at?” Scott asked when he’d opened up a comms link between himself, base and Thunderbird Two.

“It’s impossible to tell without d-data.” International Rescue’s engineer, one of the best in the world, replied hesitantly. Scott could practically hear the cogs of Brains’s brain working, trying to find a suitable answer with the data that had been presented. “This isn’t a vehicle I’m f-fam-familiar with.”

“The GDF rarely use freight trains to haul their stuff around.” Virgil added from his ship that was still flying to the danger zone. “Planes are much more convenient and efficient, not to mention safer.”

“So that begs the question as to what was so special about this stuff that warranted them going the old-fashioned route?” Scott mused, mostly to himself.

“That still doesn’t answer how the crash happened.” Gordon chimed in from the co-pilot’s seat of Two. “The GDF are sticklers when it comes to safety.”

“Maybe it was sabotage?” Alan suggested.

The word sabotage never sat well with Scott. Too often was that word linked with their arch-nemesis. One would have thought that after the stunt the Hood had pulled in their mission to retrieve their father from space, and his subsequent arrest, Scott shouldn’t have been so worried about him being a possible factor. However, the news Captain Wayne Rigby had broken to Kayo about The Hood’s breakout from prison a few months back meant that it was again possible for the The Hood to have been the cause. No-one knew how he’d managed to get out of such a high-security holding cell, and Rigby had taken the blow personally. It had taken Kayo weeks to convince him not to quit over it. Since then, the GDF had pulled out all the stops in trying to relocate the criminal, with no success. Despite Casey’s constant reassurance that they’d soon catch him again, the mere fact that The Hood was out there left Scott feeling weighed down. Thoughts over the possibility of him being involved were now swirling around his mind. It was instinct. He couldn’t help it.

No, that was no good. He had to adopt Brains’s logic; no evidence, no proof, no conclusion. Scott couldn’t allow himself to get distracted by possibilities. Right now, there was only one thing he knew for certain; there were people down there who needed his help. “I’m gonna to jetpack down, see if I can find our caller and take it from there when Virgil and Gordon arrive.”

“Be careful, Scott.” Jeff’s voice, Scott noticed, was laced with concern more than command. Perhaps Scott wasn’t the only one who was worrying over possible causes.

It took them almost an extra half an hour to reach the danger zone, but eventually the roar of Thunderbird Two’s engines echoed through the snowy gorge as it came into view over the wreckage. It hovered over the site, Virgil performing his own fly-by to assess the damage, before the ship came in to land next to her sister. The powerful VTOL engines were enough to make the ice on the mountains shake.

Scott’s voice came through the comms in a shaky laugh of his own. “Careful, Virgil. We don’t want to cause an avalanche too.”

“An avalanche?” The unfamiliar voice came from behind Scott on the comms. The woman, panicked and afraid, began to hyperventilate. “Please. Please! God, I don’t want to die here. Please, help me! Please!”

Gordon’s brows creased with worry as the woman’s pleas echoed through the cockpit of Two. “I take it you found our caller.”

The brothers in the green behemoth exchanged worried glances. John hadn’t been wrong about her being distressed.

“Remember what we said, Barbara.” Scott was clearly talking to the trapped woman now, his hologram that hovered over the instruments in Two showing him turned to his side. “Breathe in and breathe out. Try to stay calm.” Scott emulated the breathing with her for a few minutes, and only when he was convinced she was calm again, did he turn back to his brothers. “We need to get them out of her ASAP. Virgil, I need you and your heavy-lifting talents down here now.”

“I’m on my way.” Virgil unbuckled himself from the pilot’s seat. He turned to his co-pilot as he began his descent into the depths of his ship. “Gordon, stand by. We may need you if the snow does decide it wants to come down and join the party.”

“FAB.” Gordon replied, already assessing the virtual scans of the scene that John had sent down from Thunderbird Five. They were all in for a long night.

#thunderbirds are go fanfic #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #chapter two is finally up!#this one is shorter than the last but hopefully it will set up the next chapter nicely #fic: the long game

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alkalinefrog · 2 years

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FASHION ANON HERE hahah I’m so sorry I didn’t see the question until now! Mainly Mello, Near, and Matt but honestly characters like Sayu and Matsuda or even Naomi or Mikami and Takada would also be okay haha! Sorry if the list is too long, you could just narrow it down to the first 3 if you want!

A NOTE FROM PRESENT ME: Omg I found this in my drafts and I'm so sorry, fashion anon. I was planning on finding reference photos and linking them in the more in depth descriptions but I never got around to it. I guess you'll have to use your imagination for this! I'm so sorry it took so long!

Hi fashion anon!! Welcome back and thanks for continuing such a fun prompt!

K this post is MASSIVE so I’m putting all the in-depth descriptions under the cut. Here’s the summaries of my ideas for the main three characters I’ll be doing:

First and foremost, my girl Misa!! Dude, I had such a hard time figuring out what to do with her. Unlike L and Light, who’s styles aged like milk left outside on the sun, Misa’s design is timeless. I legit sat here for a good half hour stressing about how I was gonna do this until I remembered--- she's a MODEL. She can wear ANYTHING. With that, I decided to base her style off of Harajuku Street fashion! I had to go big or go home so as not to disgrace her character lol

I'm doing two different looks for Mello! I always got the impression that his design was supposed to lean edgier and more modern, but his canon outfit is... So weird. (Not nearly as egregious as Matt's vest thing though lol.) He also works with the mob, so I wanted to give him one high-fashion look and then one crime-boss look.

Near was by far the easiest in this group, I didn't feel like I was way out of my depth with him LMAO. Boy enjoys comfort. I’m giving him a cottage-core look in pastels to stick with his canon colour palette (or lack thereof lol), plus some chunky sneakers. Did he even wear shoes to the warehouse? Like bruh, you’re gonna get tetanus.

Here we go!

For Misa: (small disclaimer though, I’m not super familiar with the subculture, so I’m basing all the looks off of individual pieces rather than sweeping statements about the movement as a whole)

The one commonality I’ve observed in Harajuku--- and the only comment I’ll make of the movement as a whole--- is that “more is more!” The more layers of outrageous clothes/accessories, the better! Here’s a couple articles I read about it in case you want to fact check outside of this!

First I'd give her two-toned hair (platinum blonde/black) split right down the middle. The styling options are endless, you can go from high-fashion to punk/goth in a heartbeat. She wouldn't be Misa without her pigtails, so if she was modeling for more editorial looks they can tie them into tighter buns.

More intense eyeliner looks are very in nowadays--- ALSO the graphic eyeliner trend would give her endless possibilities

For more casual wear, she's already THE og E-girl, so I'll just list a bunch of accessories that I think would look good on her instead of being redundant with styling

Give her those kitty-ear headphones too (and a gamer chair, ring light, and LED strip lights bc might as well oh god Misa stay away from tiktok PLS)

I saw these fingernail rings that would def suit her goth aesthetic (note from present me, they were literally silver nail covers that had a ring you'd wear above the last knuckle)

She's definitely the type to get long acrylic nails (I'm jealous of anyone who can wear them comfortably, I'd just gnaw them off out of annoyance) with intricate designs. It'd be cool if she got some stained glass window/church imagery inspired ones to fit the themes of the show

Other than that, I scrolled through images of all her canon outfits and they all hold up (except maybe ditch the horizontal striped shirts if you want to leave y2k territory)

For Mello:

Might be controversial, but I'm changing up his haircut from the bob to an undercut/bowl cut like this photo. I think it still captures the energy of his original design.

Then I'd give him these Balenciagas with studded heels (no reference I'm so sorry.)

Bringing back his leather pants in a deep purple

For the crime-boss look:

I wanted to include his weird affinity for fur-lined hoods on his jackets. We could change the fur lining to a straight up feather boa.

With that look the bowl cut I gave him earlier might be too out of place, so I'd give him just an undercut like this here.

There ya go. A young mafia leader with STYLE. Both routes are pretty ostentatious, but man's so dramatic already he can pull it off lol

For Near:

I think his hairstyle's pretty timeless so I'd leave it as is and resist the urge to give everyone a mullet

Alternatively, Braided-Ponytail!Older-Near

I'd give him a pastel-filled wardrobe to stick closer to his canon colour palette (or lack thereof lol)

Lots of baggy sweaters and several cute pairs of overalls!

Then lastly I’d give him a small collection of chunky sneakers so he’s not in agony from stepping on legos all day

Tadaaa!

Sidenote, he’d def be the type to wear ankle high socks with Nike slides and I would allow him and only him to do so

(note from present me: sorry Near's section is so short! I had planned to expand on it later :''D)

If I had time I'd give Matt a sports luxe look and you bet the first thing I'd do is throw out that weird fuzzy vest thing lol

#👏take👏mello👏to👏the👏met👏gala #I wouldn't have a lot of ideas for Takada or Mikami EXCEPT to update Mikami's joe jonas lookin haircut lolol #also to clarify; L's an example of great CHARACTER design #immediately recognizable #but we're talking about his closet lol #death note #head canons #gonna have to update that tag #misa amane #mello #near #nate river #mihael keehl #long post #clearing out my dn files 😭

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theoriginalcharacterfoundfamily · 5 months

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Hello hello! (Introduction, Rules, and FAQ)

This blog is heavily inspired by the @foundfamilyadoptionagency :) since they don’t allow ocs, I thought i’d make this blog!

This is the Original Character found family! Submit your OCs, and let the people of tumblr decide whether or not they should join the official (not actually official) found family of ocs.

Submit your ocs in the form below!

Rules:

1: Of course, no non-ocs. Go to the blog I linked at the top if you wish to submit characters from series’ you like!

2: No OCs created using AI “art” tools, I think this one is obvious as to why I don’t like it.

3: OCs who are based in pre-existing universes/Fandom OCs are allowed! Just. No Harry Potter. Okay?

4: Please do not submit OCs you didn’t create, unless you have permission from their creator

5: In addition to that, please do not use images of your OCs you didn’t create without permission! That goes for stuff like bases aswell. I am hesitantly allowing characters whos images were created in games (Eg. Roblox, Dress-Up Games) but this may change later.

6: Don’t make fun of others OCs, please. Someone put time and effort into those! :( Anti-propaganda is allowed, but only to counter the actual propaganda. Nothing about how an OC looks, please.

(Not-So) Frequently Asked Questions:

“How will this work?”

A post with the name of the OC alongside an image of them (if submitted) alongside a poll asking whether or not they should be adopted will be posted. Below the posts “Read More” cut, there will be propaganda (a reason or two why they should be let into the family) to entice you to choose the “Adopt” option.

“What even is a found family?”

To quote @foundfamilyadoptionagency, “A found family is a family you find for yourself. It is a term often used in fandom to describe a group of characters who aren't related by blood (although a few members might be) but have come to think of each other as a family through circumstance. Alternatively, they might not be officially recognised as a found family in canon, but wider fanon regards them as such”

“Is this a tournament bracket of sorts?”

Nope, not at all. Besides, everyone’s OCs are cool and it’d be sad if one lost to another :(

“I don’t have an image of my OC, what’s gonna happen?”

I’ll post the poll still, although without an image or with a placeholder one. For cases like these, you might wanna add some propaganda. I don’t think a name will be enough to entice a good chunk of people.

”I’ve submitted my OC, but they haven’t been submitted yet. Have you recieved them?”

Send me an ask! Chances are i’ve recieved them, and just haven’t gotten around to posting them yet, but if you’re worried, send me an ask!

“My OCs are in a group that cannot be seperated, do I submit them as a group?”

Although i’d prefer submissions of only one character at a time, if your OCs cannot be seperated, then you can submit them as a group. You know your OCs better than anyone else, after all!

“Who’s that in your profile picture? What’s your banner?”

The character in my profile picture is Poppyseed, the first character to have their poll posted, and also one of the OCs of this blog’s runner, @rubysundaey! My banner is just some silly little cat with the caption of “girl blogging” because I didn’t know what to put, and that’s how I feel whenever I post on this site

“My OC got ditched, will they have a chance to rejoin?”

Of course! Just like the blog this is based off of, I am hoping that eventually I can do a reassesment event, where i’ll bring back some OCs that got ditched and see if the people’s opinions have changed.

“This is an Ikea, why are you telling me this?”

I don’t know, i’m bored. Where’s that funny shark plush guy

#intro post #pinned #poll #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #polls #poll game #poll games #oc #ocs #found family

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spnfan1998 · 10 months

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Stay up for Awhile (Deanxreader)

18+ ONLY, CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT

word count: 2467

You and Dean have always had a good friendship since you met. You find him witty and enjoyable to hunt with. You met him through Bobby actually, he linked you two up when Sam was away looking for Lilith. Dean was well aware Sam was hunting with Ruby and was not happy with this for obvious reasons. When you came in to fill the role of Sam, there was some bitterness from Dean. You were understanding though, of course this is a weird situation for him. Within a few days Dean warmed up to you. Once he saw you hunt, you gained his respect almost instantly. He gave you the time of day to get to know you and you, him.

***

You hadn’t gone on a hunt with Dean for about a year or so when you got a call from him “So Sam and I may have stumbled on a permanent home. I’ll text you the coordinates if you want to come check it out” You figured he called since he knew you were in a similar situation as him and Sam- homeless. This was somewhat common with hunters though, no point in having a place that can be ransacked by a monster you pissed off. It’s easier sometimes to stay on the move.

The coordinates were out in Lebanon, Kansas. This was about a 13 hour drive from the job you were working at that point. Once you rooted out the cursed object the ghost you were hunting was attached to, you salted and burned it. You were thankful you finished up the job sooner than expected, you made it to Kansas a day or two earlier than expected.

When you showed up early, Dean and Sam were pleasantly surprised. They both greeted you with a hug, you could tell the boys missed you. “We weren’t expecting you for a few more days, the place still needs a good clean. I hope you don’t mind” Sam said while picking up books and other objects in the near vicinity. “I’ve been elbow deep in shifter skin, I think I can handle some dust and books” you smirked “and besides, I come bearing gifts” you pulled out a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue. Both Sam and Dean looked relieved. It was weird that they cared about keeping up an image, usually that was their last priority. “We do have all the bedrooms set up though so you won’t have to worry about cleaning yours, just have to unpack” Dean explained while gently placing the bottle of Johnny Walker on the bar. You were flattered that they already had a room set up for you, all you had to do was decide whether or not you wanted to make this your home base.

You asked the boys how they found this bunker, let alone get into it. “It’s a long story but ultimately, some of our relatives belonged to this secret society that's now disbanded- Men of Letters- and this is their last standing chapter in America. Since we are descendants of a former member, we were the heirs to this place.” The boys started the tour and showed you the store room with endless amounts of spell ingredients, lore books, weapons, etc. You were pretty much convinced within the first 20 minutes to settle down there for a while. Dean and Sam welcomed you with open arms. While you are an amazing hunter already, there is always room for improvement. Having all this information at your fingertips can help you grow, and having Sam and Dean there helped you feel secure. It was a no brainer really.

***

Over the years of staying with Sam and Dean, you had your ups and downs. Dealing with The Fall, Metatron, The darkness, God leaving, the mark of Cain, Lucifer getting out of his cage. Things were always hectic it seemed, but you all stayed strong and held each other up. It was actually a nice break just to go on a normal hunt in the midst of all the apocalyptic happenings. During this time Dean and your relationship had grown closer. Sam had started dating again and having one existential crisis after the other, Dean was needing more intimate comfort. You really weren’t expecting Dean to turn to you since he had “contacts” all around the country to go to when he needed attention. That changed though one night after you all had gotten back from a week long hunt looking for Amara.

~~~

All three of you came into the bunker in bad spirits, feeling beyond defeated. You had Amara right in front of you but she still got away, but not until after she wiped out a whole town. Castiel stayed behind for this one in case Amara came to the bunker “how did it go?” he asked with a concerned look. Dean just threw a blank but sharp look at Cas, he got the point. “The map lit up yesterday in Wyoming, what did she do?” Cas asked. Sam gave Cas the run down since Dean was busy white knuckling a beer.

You sat with them but didn’t talk, just listened with your head in one hand. “Well that is disappointing,” Cas said. Knowing Cas, he didn’t mean it in a malicious or chastising way but Dean’s face stiffened and he clenched his jaw. Dean broke the glass bottle in his hand unintentionally from squeezing it like a stress ball. You, Sam, and Cas jumped back in your seats slightly since glass was flying at you. Dean opened up his hand and buried his face in his palms. You heard him let out a small sob. Dean stood up and scooped up as much glass as he could and threw it in the garbage. He wasn’t fazed by the fact his hand was filled with blood and beer. He didn’t say anything and went to his room and slammed his door shut.

Castiel insisted on cleaning the rest so he got a rag and wiped up the beer and glass. Sam apologized to Cas for having to clean up Dean’s mess “It’s okay, I caused him to react that way.” Sam smiled at him weakly and gave him a pat on the back before retreating to his room. “You haven’t said anything yet (y/n)” Cas remarked. “I’m not sure what to say. This isn’t my fight necessarily so I’m here to do whatever you guys tell me to do. Instead, I got my ass handed to me by her. I just feel like I’ve failed you all.” A tear dropped onto your cheek, which you rubbed off quickly. Cas reassured you with “We all suffered a loss today, you couldn’t have changed the outcome and neither could Sam or Dean. You used the strongest binding spells Rowena could give us and it still couldn’t trap Amara. We just have to regroup and come up with a different strategy” you nodded and followed the boys suit by going to your room. Cas started to read up on more lore.

You laid on your bed just staring at the ceiling. You decide to play your favorite heavy metal album to drown out your thoughts. Dean and Sam’s rooms were a few doors away so you didn’t think they’d hear. You were exhausted to the point of putting a long bendy straw in your jack and coke so you didn’t have to sit up to drink it. You didn’t even change your clothes or take your boots off.

You heard a soft knock on your door for the split second in between song changes. You yelled “come in” so they could hear you over the music. To your surprise, Dean was standing there with his face red and puffy, hand wrapped up. He probably just got done crying. He came in and turned down the music and spoke softly “Could you stay up for a little while” his eyes started to well up again and his voice cracked. You’ve never seen Dean so vulnerable, usually when he faced defeat he was angry. Fuming. The pure exhaustion from running on a collective 12 hours of sleep for a whole week probably drained him to the point he couldn’t hide behind anger. You sat up and scooched over at the end of the bed to make room for Dean to sit down. Once he sat down, you handed him the rest of your drink without him even asking. You thought he could use it, and you were right. He downed it in a few seconds.

You and Dean sat in silence for what felt like hours, but it felt necessary. Sipping drinks to numb it all. After the chaos you all dealt with, silence was bliss. You were getting tired and let out a yawn and started taking off your boots. Dean realized and said “I’m sorry for keeping you up it's just…” Dean trailed off but he didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was going to say. You looked up and smiled at him “It’s okay, I was planning on staying up for a while anyways”. Dean smirked but still felt bad. You started taking off your jacket and flannel. Dean knew what was coming next so he stood up and focused on the opposite corner of the room, fiddling with his drink. “You can turn around now,” you said with a short laugh. Dean turned towards you and looked you up and down. “I’m almost embarrassed to say this but I have never seen you in shorts before (y/n),” Dean confessed with a smile. “Well, I was raised to be a modest woman,” you burst out laughing considering your career choice.

Dean started to excuse himself and go back to his room but stopped in his tracks in your doorway. “Would you want to spend the night together?” he asked nervously. You kind of knew this would happen eventually. You saw the way Dean looked at you, how he spoke to you. It was different than with other people. It was kinder, softer, and somehow less sarcastic. You smiled at him and nodded, he made his way back into your room and slid under the covers with you.

~~~

You woke up around 4am needing some water. You got up to go to the kitchen and grabbed a glass. When you got back to your room Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” you asked him. “Nothing just… bad dreams I guess”, he tried to brush it off like he normally does. He isn't one to tap into his feelings. You sat next to him and again, handed him your glass. Dean drank about half and gave it back to you. He looked up at you with this look in his eyes, almost desperate. Desperate to have a win, to catch Amara and put her back in her world. He looked to you for hope. You inhaled sharply with this realization and decided to hold his hand, he seemed like he needed some physical contact. To realize he wasn't alone. Dean didn’t react to this much so you pulled your hand away thinking it made him uncomfortable but, when you let go of him, he squeezed your hand to keep it in place.

Dean laid his head in your lap and just looked at the wall with an empty stare “you are the only light in my life (y/n). I have Sam and Cas but I can’t turn to them. I’m supposed to be their rock, the protector. I’m supposed to have all of the answers.” You empathized with this because you saw this first hand, Dean always trying to protect everyone, even if it meant sacrificing himself. “The reason we let her go (y/n) is because she said she would kill you otherwise” Dean inhaled sharply at the thought, “The binding spell was like putting chicken wire up for Godzilla. It tripped her up but wasn’t enough to keep her contained so we were going to try to get her into a Sumerian puzzle box. Similar to an Enochian puzzle box but Sumerian is older. She’s friggin prehistoric so the closest thing we could do is spell work in the first known language. Point is though, if trying to catch Amara meant losing you, we would let her go in a heartbeat. Knowing how powerful she is, she would have sucked you right into that box with her”, Dean looked up at you with glossy eyes.

You wanted to reassure him that the decision he made was okay, even if you didn’t agree with it. Truthfully, you would have rathered if they let you go if it meant restoring balance to the entire universe. You played with his hair and planted a kiss on his forehead. He looked at you almost taken back, and sat up and kissed you. You let it happen, truth be told you’ve been waiting for this for so long. He grabbed the back of your neck gently pulling you in closer. You licked his upper lip, he took that as his cue to dip between your lips. Dean laid you down on the bed and took the lead. He pushed his knee up against you, giving you something to ride on. He encouraged you with “go ahead baby girl, use me.” Not to your surprise, this made you finish. Dean heard your little moans and quickly sat up to take off his shirt and pull his pants down just enough. You were in nirvana but you felt it was rushed. You put your hand on his chest as a signal to stop “Is this going to be a one hit wonder?” Dean contemplated your question for a few seconds. This had you worried since the response wasn’t immediate. Dean shook his head, “I really don’t want it to be but I respect your decision if you choose otherwise.” You smiled up at him “Then I think we should press pause for now. Emotions are heightened and I want both of us to be in the right frame of mind to go further”. Dean nodded in agreement and laid down next to you. He picked you up so you were laying on top of him. Dean whispered into your ear “I think I love you (y/n)”. You didn’t know what to say but judging by the way he looked at you, you could tell he was being serious. You gave him a kiss and said “I think I feel the same” Dean looked at you with a smile as you fell back asleep in his arms.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic series #Supernatural smut #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #fanfic

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maniculum · 1 year

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The College of Grotesque Arts -- Introduction

So, I’m going to tackle this Dungeon23 idea. (This is Mac speaking, incidentally — I talked over the project with Zoe, but the analog element makes it a bit hard to collaborate from a distance, and she has other projects to focus on, so this one’s just me.) The idea, if you didn’t feel like clicking on that link, is to create a TTRPG “megadungeon” by doing one dungeon room per day, one level of the dungeon each month, so that you have a 12-level, 365-room dungeon at the end of the year.

I’m going to start off by saying that this is something I’m mostly doing for fun, so it’s going to be much less polished than something I might do as an Actual Project. (I say this because we do have some Actual Projects bubbling along in the background, and I don’t want anyone to assume they’ll be as slapdash as this is likely to be.) You’re looking at a first draft with minimal planning, which I think is appropriately in the spirit of things.

(If you're wondering about the title, that's what I'm calling the dungeon; to be explained in the next post.)

One of the things we really enjoy here at the Maniculum is medieval marginalia; of course, a podcast is an audio medium, and we’re not art historians so we can’t do a properly-informed discussion of it, so that doesn’t come up much on the show itself. So what I’m going to do is use the marginalia of the Luttrell Psalter for inspiration. Each day, I’ll look at a different page of the manuscript (in order, from the beginning), and try to base the contents of that day’s dungeon room around what I see. We’ll have to skip some pages, because they don’t always have anything besides geometric & floral decorations, but I just looked through it, and I’m pretty sure there’s enough pages left to get through the whole year.

(Text continues below image; I can't figure out how to make the image smaller.)

(You can find the digitized manuscript here, by the way)

I’ll also be using Appendix A of the AD&D Dungeon Masters[sic] Guide to get a starting point for each room, though I won’t consider myself strictly beholden to the results.

I considered doing a hexcrawl instead, since a lot of this marginalia doesn’t really fit with a subterranean dungeon, but it’s been years since I’ve done a proper dungeon, and I’m excited to give it another go. So we’ll just have to try and make it work.

Between now and the end of December, I’ll try and come up with a basic concept for the dungeon — I’ll post that when it’s ready. Come January, I’ll do a new blog post on the website once a week with my progress. (I may or may not post smaller amounts on our social media in between those weekly posts; we’ll see how I’m feeling.) It’s going to be once a week instead of daily because (1) I don’t want to clutter things up on the website and (2) I’m probably not going to stick to doing exactly one room each day. My work habits are disorganized, unpredictable, and possibly a function of undiagnosed ADHD — I expect, based on what I know of my own tendencies, that I’ll regularly pull ahead or fall behind on the project, and it’ll be easier to compensate for that if I’m doing weekly releases.

Now, the material-culture angle of this project: the notebook.

I could not justify buying a special notebook for this project, because I have too many blank notebooks sitting around already. My preferred brand is Field Notes, and I have a ton of those because I was a subscriber for a couple of years before I decided I couldn’t justify the expense, considering that the notebooks were coming in way more quickly than I was filling them. However, unfortunately, my box of empty Field Notes books cannot help me here: they’re pocket-sized and 48 pages long. There’s simply no way to fit this project into one of them. Even if I somehow managed to cram a week’s worth of rooms and descriptions on each page — not possible if I want it to be legible to anyone but me — it would still overflow. I’d spend the whole time stressing about space.

So, reluctantly, I turned to my other miscellaneous blank notebooks. I have a bunch — I’ve gotten a number as gifts over the years that I haven’t used, but unfortunately the reason I never used them also makes them ineligible for this project: inexplicably, most notebooks use ruled paper or blank paper. (Graph paper can be used for any purpose you can use ruled paper before, plus purposes you can’t use ruled paper for. Why would anyone ever use ruled paper when it’s obviously the less useful option?) And, of course, this project requires graph paper.

Turns out I have exactly one notebook that can be used for this project: a battered Moleskine Cahier that must have been in my Empty Notebooks Pile through at least four moves. No idea why I even have this one — I haven’t bought Moleskine in about a decade. Also I think these things come in packs of three and I have no memory of using the other two. Regardless, though, I have very professionally scrawled a title on it in Sharpie. It’s official now — I am doing this project.

#dungeon23 #d&d #dnd #ttrpg #college of grotesque arts

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sinnabee · 2 years

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FAQ

Are you accepting commissions?

No, I'm not right now. tbh commissions stress me out a lot lol, and i kind of function on a "i can only get myself to work on this if i am personally invested in it" type basis, and people like to commission for fandoms that i'm not always in - which makes it super hard for me to work on! AHH. if i ever do open them up though, you'll see a post about it! :D

Update: I am! Currently they’re closed to the larger public, as I’m doing limited comms for some friends in discord servers first as a bit of a test run. (You might have seen me post a few things!!) But it’s been going well! I think once I’m through with these, I’ll open up comms for realsies. ^^ Keep an eye out for the post!

Can I repost your art on Instagram/Pinterest/Tiktok/Wherever?

Nope! (: Don’t even bother asking lol! Idk why you’d want to repost it at all tbh, i am not that popular, most of my art is sketches bUT IF you feel the need to, just know that I’m not cool with it! I don’t really want my art on platforms that I’m not also on, and even if I’ve got an account there, well. My brother in christ, if I wanted it there, I would have posted it!!! I don’t care if you give credit, or even link back to my blog. Just…don’t do it, pal. thanks.

Do you do drawing requests?

Yep! Not all the time - only every now and then, and I usually only allow for about 3 requests. I make a post every time I open them up, and it's usually updated (all the slots filled) within a few hours or so. If you don't see a recent post about requests being open, or see it on the pinned post announcements, then they aren't open atm. :)

Do you draw NSFW?

This is a new development - but lmao yeah I do! However, you almost certainly won’t be seeing it show up on my art blog here. For the most part, I try to limit myself to “suggestive” rather than straight up nsfw when I post art. That means I won’t really be taking requests (or comms) for NSFW, either, not to mention I’m only just getting a handle on drawing it.

That being said - PLEASE don't send me messages about NSFW things, or with NSFW content or images. I’m talking asks, mostly. That shit gets deleted fam. >:T That would include like, something super gore-y or needlessly gross, btw. I'd rather just avoid people trying to show me that stuff all together.

Please also don’t send me unsolicited NSFW, either. I love my followers! But receiving like - explicit excerpts or images from someone I don’t know, but that follows me, is very jarring.

Again, that being said - if you want to write or draw something based off of one of my more suggestive doodles, just let me know!!! I’d LOVE to know!!!Asking for permission and then writing and posting something to Ao3 or what have you is a totally different ball game than dm-ing me something unprompted/un-solicited.

Do you reblog NSFW?

Like I’ve said before - I have zero problem with NSFW. I’m not going to reblog explicit NSFW content here - if I ever had a need to, I guess I’d make a side blog for it? BUT

Every now and then I might reblog some suggestive content or something with some partial nudity. Whenever that happens, I’ll tag the post for people who want to avoid that content - typically with these tags!

#cw partial nudity

#cw nudity

#cw suggestive

#cw slightly NSFW

If you don’t want to see them, please go ahead and blacklist these tags! I know most of my followers are here for Sun and Moon content, so I’m giving y’all a way to avoid this stuff. ^^

Do you have a twitter?

yeah i have a twitter, and it's the same username as here, but i uuuuuh barely use it? lol. it doesn't really get updated much;;;; i MIGHT start using it more for sticker stuff tho, so we'll see. i won't STOP you from finding it (it ain't hard) but like, idk why you'd want to atm

Why do you love bees so much?

okay like have you. have you LOOKED at them??? they're just fat little boys. bumbling little lads. they buzz and they collect pollen and make honey and are just wonderful all around. how could i NOT love them. also at this point it's like, My Brand™ lol. I prefer to go by Sinna but you can't forget the bee. LOVE bees. :D

#sinna babbles #FAQ #woooow look at meee making my blog like #organized and stuff???#wild #i'll update this as needed :P

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abroadchangedme69 · 2 years

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I’m in Granada now, I arrived the night before last. I spent that morning/afternoon (the same day Lily left) with Olivia from New Zealand and Hannah from Germany.

Olivia is one of the friendliest and most genuinely positive people that I’ve come across. The first thing that I noticed about her, and I imagine this is the first thing most people notice, is the giant smile that is constantly glued to her face. Every time you look at her she’s beaming and it’s hard for that not to rub off. As someone who is naturally a bit suspicious of other people, I’m always impressed when I encounter someone who is so immediately and outwardly positive and welcoming. Shortly after we first met I complimented her smile, which is not something I would have always been comfortable doing. It paid off - she was flattered. I think people can usually tell when a compliment is genuine and made for the right reasons.

I started coming down with a cold a couple days ago so I got an Airbnb for a few days in Granada. Very mild cold symptoms that have been improving, so hopefully that trend will continue. I think I’ll get a covid test tomorrow. I haven’t done any sightseeing in Granada, I’ve mostly been resting in the apartment aside from short walks around the area. It’s a welcome break from all the socializing.

The connections that I’m making with the people I meet are real, though they are transitory. That has a significant impact on the nature of these relationships.

I am an analytical person. When I was talking to Lily, she told me she felt like she was being studied - like she was being put under a microscope (moment of silence for all the ants I butchered). It’s true, I study people - the ones I care to understand. I ask questions, I remember answers, I form hypotheses and I test them. I tend not to make too many initial assumptions about a person - at least not ones that I’m married to. I gradually build a picture of a person based on as much information as possible - facts about their upbringing, experiences they’ve had, the way they react to certain situations, how they represent themselves, how they choose to spend their time etc. While experience has shown me that some amount of unpredictability is inherent to human nature, I eventually form what I consider a deep understanding of a person. The good, the bad and the ugly. And sometimes that understanding is painfully different from my initial image of them.

Something I appreciate about these brief encounters is that I don’t have time to be wrong about a person. Victor will always be the zen Canadian that inspired me to go with the flow, Jonathan the wise Swede with sage-like advice, Maria the beautiful Brazilian girl with very soft skin, Weston the walking contradiction, Olivia the Kiwi with an infectious smile. Lily can remain my “soulmate from across the ocean” (her words). I still hope to stay in touch with most of these people, but there’s no pressure for them to be anything other than what they were to me for the short time our paths crossed.

Even though I am thoroughly enjoying this trip, I can feel the pull to go back home. I don’t plan to for quite some time - this is still the beginning of my trip - but this does feel like a bit of a break from real life. Although in another sense this is as real as it gets. There are a lot of things that I want to do when I get back. Passions to develop, a career to build, routines to implement, discipline to be exercised. But all of that can wait, it’s not lost on me how rare of an opportunity this is.

On another note, I’ve been thinking about what this blog is. Obviously this is filled with many personal thoughts that are available to anybody who can find the link. I don’t actually know who is reading this, but I’m not so concerned with that. The purpose of this blog is to record what I experience during this trip along with my thoughts and feelings. I’d be glad if people who read this find it thought-provoking or valuable in some way, but ultimately my main audience is myself - in the future.

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pyramid-levels · 2 years

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Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin - Sandy Grave

Table of contents:

Overview

Objective(s)

The Pyramid Itself

Treasure, Traps, & Things to Find

Enemies

Tips & Tricks

Music

My Relationship to this Game

Overview

It is 1944, one year before the end of WW2. Dracula’s Castle has suddenly reappeared, but strangely, Dracula is absent.

You control the tag team Jonathan & Charlotte, who have come to investigate the mysterious reappearance of Dracula’s Castle. Whichever character you’re not playing as is controlled by an AI, so the two of them are always fighting together. Jonathan is a more familiar Castlevania protagonist with a whip and sub weapons. Charlotte is a witch that attacks with enchanted books and by charging up magic spells.

In Portrait of Ruin, instead of Dracula’s Castle being a single immense map split up into many different areas (dungeon, laboratory, clock tower, etc), you travel into magic paintings around the castle to access many different, smaller, areas. This puts the player in locals less common to the franchise, like a Victorian Era town run by demons, a haunted school, and a pyramid.

The Sandy Grave is one of the first levels of the game, and it’s where you first encounter a strange new vampire named Brauner, who has used the souls of those killed in the war to “resurrect” Dracula’s Castle. But he says he’s not planning on reviving Dracula, who has failed at controlling humanity too many times. Dracula may be dead, but his castle is still an extension of him and is thus a source of great magic, one that Brauner has taken control of by using his magic paintings to (among other things) seal Dracula’s body away, separating him from his own castle.

Note: In Portrait of Ruin, most of the paintings have a counterpart in the 2nd half of the game.

Sandy Grave's counterpart is called Forgotten City. Though they share many assets, it isn't a pyramid (though the map is shaped like one). so I won't be covering it in this blog.

Objective(s)

Brauner is using these magic paintings to seal off and control different parts of the castle. You must enter the paintings and destroy the evil within in order to both weaken Brauner, and release sealed portions of the castle to steadily make your way to him.

The Pyramid Itself

This level has monsters everywhere. It’s a good thing Jonathan and Charlotte attack in tandem (and not that you swap between them like Castlevania 3) because levels in Portrait of Ruin are much denser with enemies than an average Castlevania level. The Sandy Grave will be your wakeup call if you haven’t gotten that memo yet. One of the real cool things about this level is that the map is actually pyramid shaped. Which is not only pretty neat, but the game actually uses this design to its advantage. Normally, if a dungeon has a clearly conveyed shape / design, that often removes some of the mystery of its layout. For example, in Link's Awakening once the player explores enough to see HOW Key Cavern resembles two large keys, they can deduce "hmm, there should be a hidden room over here" based on something missing from the image the map makes. Or they can say "Oh, that way will probably be a dead end so I'll check it out quickly first."

But Portrait of Ruin uses their map to different effect. The map is full of enough dead space that you still ultimately explore this pyramid either unsure of where each passage will lead or filled with a false confidence. And this is compounded by the fact that you don't know where you're supposed to be going. You're here to fight a boss, but they might be along the back of the pyramid, at the tip, or somewhere deep underground.

The dungeon is made up of a lot of looping paths, with only two outright dead ends, which is a bit of an unusual design for a maze, but having the player always moving forward definitely works for the more action oriented style of this game.

The sloping walls of the pyramid are made up of many large rooms in a row, giving this place a unique feeling. Not just compared to other levels in this game, but for the franchise as a whole.

These rooms are also a treat because when you're standing near the outer walls you can see beyond them, the desert outside stretching off into the dusk with a swollen moon rising behind another pyramid on the horizon.

Treasure, Traps, & Things to Find

The "traps" in this level manifest as obvious obstacles, with none of them actually being hidden. For example, there’s a hallway with infinite boulders rolling down it at regular intervals. Or the room full of stones (covered in spikes) churning up and down like pistons. Or weak platforms that fall when you stand on them. Though there is one trap to watch out for. It first appears somewhat early into the pyramid. There is a long hallway with bundles of spikes near the ceiling that will fall when you get close. They’re roughly the same color as the ceiling and can surprise you the first time you encounter them.

Similarly, all of the pyramid's treasure lies out in the open. Shockingly, this level has none of the secret passages or breakable walls so common in Castlevania games (especially the Metroidvania Igarashi Koji games). And… uh… there’s quite a lot of treasure. Here is everything you can get on your initial visit: – Stat upgrades – HP Max Up - sink into the quicksand beneath the first Sand Worm you encounter. HP Max Up - Upper right in the room beneath the rolling boulder hallway (guarded by White Dragons). – Weapons – Bahg Nahk - The furthest right spot on the map. Steel Whip - Eastern side of the first room with Red Skeletons. – Money – $2000 - Found on falling platform in the basement $2000 - Guarded by a White Dragon just before where you jump to reach the 1,000 Blades. $2000 - Next to the Clear Skies spell. – Equipment – Charm Necklace - You’ll spot it as you trave down the right slope of the pyramid. Crystal Necklet - Upper left in the very tall room in the middle of the pyramid. Diamond Brooch - Found on falling platform in the basement Glamorous Pumps - On the right side of the lowest room on the right slope of the pyramid. Royal Sandals - In the 1x2 room above the very tall room in the middle of the pyramid. – Consumables – High Potion - Guarded by a Mimic High Potion - In the upper left corner in the 2x3 room below the lower 2x2 room along the pyramid’s left slope. High Tonic - Lower left corner of the lower 2x2 room along the right slope of the pyramid.

Pumpkin Pie - Right of the very tall room in the middle of the pyramid. – Special – (Dual crush) 1,000 Blades - Use your partner for a boost, then double jump to the top of the yellow path. The statue next to it has a lot of gold. (Relic) Strength Glove - Found just past the boss room. (Spell) Clear Skies - In the upper right corner of the 2X2 room on the ground floor of the pyramid. (Spell) Sanctuary - In the bottom left corner of the rolling boulder room. You need the Toad Morph spell to reach it. This spell can keep regenerating enemies dead. It can also, amazingly, cure vampirism, which is useful when the shopkeeper Vincent is turned into a vampire, and needed to unlock the 2nd half of the game and get the good ending. (Sub weapon) Bwaka Knife - In the upper right of the room right of where you meet Brauner. You’ll have to jump off your partner’s shoulders to reach it.

(Sub weapon) Steel Ball - Behind a Bone Pillar in the 2x3 room below the lower 2x2 room along the pyramid’s left slope.

You can explore about 98% of the map during your initial visit here. After you can transform into an owl, return to get to two previously out of reach spots. One spot is in the rolling boulder hallway. With the Owl Morph you can reach the upper right corner and get the Lorica, which is the best armor for Jonathan that you can find lying around the castle. The few better armors are monster drops, so this is definitely worth coming back for. The other spot is in the pyramid’s first room. If you fly to the upper left corner of the room you can find the Kaiser Knuckles, which is easily the strongest fist weapon in the game.

Enemies

The enemies are arranged in alphabetical order, but with the boss listed at the end.

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Amphisbaena

Bestiary description: A double-headed snake. Its name means “able to move in both directions.”

To be honest, this enemy looks wild and may give you pause, but just attack it. It’ll go down before ever having a chance to counter attack. It’s one of the biggest pushovers in the game.

HP: 266 Strong: Strike Weak: Whip, Slash, Fire Exp: 94 Skill Points: 3 Drops: The equipment: Pearl Tiara (5.64%), and Ruby Corset (5.64%). The Corset is actually a pretty solid piece of equipment as it boosts both strength and defense, so if you missed the free one in the Entrance, consider trying to get this drop.

This enemy is unique to the Sandy Grave.

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Armor Knight

Bestiary description: An armored zombie warrior who carries a spear.

They look like a weak enemy, and Castlevania often tries to frame them as one, but watch out. The Armor Knight has some quick attacks that can catch you off guard if you’re expecting them to go down in a hit or two. They’re also able to strike a pretty surprising distance directly above or below them by extending their spears. Even if you’re on another floor you’re not safe.

HP: 60 Strong: Ice Weak: Strike, Whip, Electric Exp: 48 Skill Points: 3 Drops: The weapon Long Spear (9.87%), and the sub weapon Javelin (8.46%) which you’ll need for a quest later.

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, the Nation of Fools, and the Burnt Paradise.

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Bone Pillar

Bestiary description: The skulls of dinosaurs, animated by a demonic force. They can breathe fire and shoot fireballs, which you'll be able to simply jump over after knocking a few heads off the pillar and making it shorter. Their eyes always flash before they attack, and they only “activate” when you’re close. In this level they’re often blocking a path in an area where ghosts are spawning in around you. Fortunately, Charlotte’s Ice Fang spell is great for here. Not only does it hit the whole pillar multiple times, but it also takes out the Bone Pillar's fireballs too, giving you a chance to charge up another one if needed, though you are still a sitting duck for any ghosts you didn’t take care of.

HP: 100 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 23 Skill Points: 1 Drops: None

This enemy is unique to the Sandy Grave.

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Corpseweed

Bestiary description: A grown Une that bears the face of the human it fed on.

Punch it in the head.

HP: 148 Strong: Electric Weak: Slash, Fire, Stone Exp: 53 Skill Points: 2 Drops: Orchid Corsage (5.64%)

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, and the Forest of Doom.

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Crossbow Armor

Bestiary description: An armored warrior equipped with a crossbow and exploding bolts.

This enemy is usually found standing behind other enemies and attacking from the back ranks. They think they’re safe back there, but if you strike their crossbow bolt it’s sent flying back at them for usually lethal damage, and their eyes flash red before they fire. They do a lot of damage to you too though, so be careful. Alternatively you can jump the bolts pretty easily, and after they fire it takes them a while to reload.

HP: 111 Strong: Ice Weak: Strike, Whip, Electric Exp: 95 Skill Points: 3 Drops: Silver Plate (4.23%), and the sub weapon Crossbow (2.82%)

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, the Great Stairway, and the Tower of Death.

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Devil Wheel

Bestiary description: A demonically-possessed wheel that is obsessed with speed.

Once it notices you it’ll charge. It moves fast, and it’ll (generally) notice you before it’s even on screen, but is never unfairly placed to just get in cheap damage on you. You’ll meet one a few “rooms” into the desert outside the pyramid, so you’ll get a chance to size them up pretty early.

HP: 55 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 56 Skill Points: 2 Drops: Coffee (7.5%)

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, the Nation of Fools, and the Forgotten City.

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Dragon Zombie

Bestiary description: A zombie dragon. It lost its magic, but has become mindlessly violent.

It has a large variety of attacks, from a lunging bite, to whipping with its tail, to a large poisonous breath weapon, to a great laser beam. They can be pretty tricky to dodge, especially since it’s in a room with mummies constantly rising from the floor, so it’s best to hang back at a safe distance and bring it down with ranged attacks.

HP: 350 Strong: Dark Weak: Slash, Fire, Holy Exp: 150 Skill Points: 5 Drops: The weapons Gladius (7.5%) and Zweihander (5.64%)

There are only 2 Dragon Zombies in the entire game (along with a surprise appearance in Boss Rush Mode). There's one in the Buried Chamber and the one in the Sandy Grave. And only the one in the Sandy Grave respawns.

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Ectoplasm

Bestiary description: A substance created by souls who cannot find rest.

It moves about the room in wide, slow loops as it flies towards you. It curses you on contact, which will rapidly deplete your MP. Be careful when fighting them, when you strike them they temporarily speed up. If you’re having trouble with their curse, or just wanna be careful, here are a few things that can help. First, there are two helpful accessories you have access to at this point in the game. Charm Necklace - Found shortly before the boss room, this item gives curse resistance. Blessed Ring - A quest reward from Wind which gives curse immunity.

Second, you can pause the game before you're hit and switch which character you’re controlling, as the AI controlled character is largely immune to status conditions and debuffs. Note: if you’re playing as Stella and Loretta you are unaffected by curses. And if you’re playing in Old Axe Armor mode and can neither equip accessories, or swap to a partner character, you’ll just have to git gud.

HP: 10 Strong: Strike, Whip, Slash, Dark Weak: Holy Exp: 36 Skill Points: 2 Drops: Uncurse Potion (7.5%), and the Cure Curse spell (5.46%)

This enemy only appears in the Sandy Grave, and its counterpart level the Forgotten City.

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Elgiza

Bestiary description: A guardian of treasure.

You’re not able to get the jump on this guy. Instead, when you walk close they burst forth from the floor, so be on your toes when entering large, empty areas. You can defeat this monster by damaging its head, but it can be tricky to get close with it’s arms in the way. Fortunately you can destroy each one. Be warned however that they reform after a short time, so destroying them only briefly makes them more approachable. Also, when you get in close (whether they have their arms or not) they have a tendency to belly flop on you.

HP: 168 Strong: None Weak: None Exp: 133 Skill Points: 5 Drops: the armor Kalasirius (5.64%), and the accessory Uraeus (4.23%) which gives Luck +5 and may be worth grabbing.

This enemy only appears in the Sandy Grave, and its counterpart level the Forgotten City.

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Fleaman

Bestiary description: A sinister little man who leaps about as if he were a flea.

They hop about erratically and can be pretty tricky, though they’re far less aggressive than their progenitors from earlier games as after they leap there’s generally a pause where they just hop about a little before leaping again. Because they should be a familiar sight by this point in the game, it tries to throw you for a loop and have you encounter them in narrow, vertical shafts.

HP: 15 Strong: None Weak: Whip, Slash, Curse, Stone Exp: 19 Skill Points: 1 Drops: The equipment Fedora (2.82%), and the consumable Pancake (1.41%)

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, the Nation of Fools, the Dark Academy, and the Forgotten City.

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Flying Skull

Bestiary description: A skull that flies through the air.

This enemy is pretty similar to the Ectoplasm, except it doesn’t curse you. Also, it seems to go out of its way to come at you diagonally.

HP: 10 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 15 Skill Points: 1 Drops: the accessory Glasses (5.64%)

This enemy appears in the Entrance, and the Sandy Grave.

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Ghost

Bestiary description: A small spirit doomed to wander the castle grounds for all eternity. Ghosts are a little unique in that they don’t sit in the level, but will spawn in when you move into specific areas. They spawn pretty quickly (another about every 3 seconds) and float towards you, so if you’re not quick you can find yourself surrounded. They don’t have much HP, but they’re resistant to a lot of what Jonathan can do. Charlotte however, can take them out pretty easily. And her weapons have pretty big hitboxes, so she’s pretty good at keeping the area around her clear, even if her short range struggles to keep them at bay.

HP: 8 Strong: Strike, Whip, Slash, Dark Weak: Holy Exp: 9 Skill Points: 1 Drops: The Summon Ghost spell (2.82%)

This enemy only appears in the Sandy Grave, and its counterpart level the Forgotten City.

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Great Ghost

Bestiary description: An enormous phantom.

This special monster only appears after defeating many Ghosts while in the bottom room along the right slope of the pyramid. It behaves almost identically to a regular Ghost in that it doesn’t have any attacks per se, it just floats towards you in the hopes of colliding and damaging you. You need to defeat this monster for one of Wind’s quests.

HP: 66 Strong: Strike, Whip, Slash, Dark Weak: Holy Exp: 240 Skill Points: 9 Drops: None

This enemy is unique to the Sandy Grave.

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Mimic

Bestiary description: A creature that disguises itself as treasure, then awaits its prey. Unlike some other castlevania games, there are no treasure chests in Portrait of Ruin. All treasure chests you see are mimics that haven’t gotten this memo and just stick out like sore thumbs. They can leap pretty fast and far on their frog legs, so it’s important to take advantage of their poor camouflage and get the jump on them for a change.

The brooch they drop is the 2nd strongest brooch Charlotte can equip. If you’re interested in getting it, the Mimic can also be farmed on The Great Stairway.

HP: 99 Strong: None Weak: Whip, Slash, Fire, Curse, Stone Exp: 38 Skill Points: 2 Drops: Abalone Brooch (5.64%)

This enemy appears in the Great Stairway, and the Sandy Grave.

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Mummy

Bestiary description: A mummified warrior, buried in a tomb to protect his king.

Mummies rise from the floor in droves and attempt to swarm the player. They each take a few hits, and move slowly, so you may be compelled to jump over them and move on. But if you do, watch your back, because they also have a projectile bandage attack.

HP: 64 Strong: Dark Weak: Slash, Fire, Holy, Stone Exp: 24 Skill Points: 1 Drops: Stone Mask (2.82%)

This enemy only appears in the Sandy Grave, and its counterpart level the Forgotten City.

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Persephones

Bestiary description: The count's demonic maid. She seems to have bought a new vacuum cleaner.

And here we have the game’s best enemy, truly 10/10 design: a kung fu maid trying to tidy up all the sand with a vacuum. She didn’t have an appliance in previous games, and I think it’s cute how the bestiary description acknowledges this update.

She’ll greet you with an audible “welcome” and a curtsey before coming at you. She’ll first try to suck up the hem of Jonathan’s coat or Charlotte’s skirt with her vacuum to stun you before she drops the machine and breaks out a barrage of kicks and chops. She becomes much faster then, so try and take her down before she has a chance to ditch the vacuum.

HP: 60 Strong: Dark Weak: Whip, Slash, Holy, Poison, Stone Exp: 35 Skill Points: 2 Drops: Frilly Camisole (5.64%), and Pudding Bucket (2.82%)

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, and the Great Stairway.

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Red Skeleton

Bestiary description: A skeleton warrior that has absorbed blood. It can regenerate.

These guys shamble back and forth across whatever platform they’re on. They don’t really even seem to notice you, just go on their merry way back and forth. With just 1 HP anything can take them out, but they get back up after a few seconds. Sometimes you’ll find them wandering in large, open spaces and you can just jump past them, but just as often you’ll find some on smaller platforms you’re not just gonna fly by, or in passages with low ceilings.

Usually, there’s no way to rid yourself of them, but Portrait of Ruin is one of the rare exceptions. If you have the whip Undead Killer, or the spell Sanctuary, you can take them out (and reap their rather juicy pile of exp).

HP: 1 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 127 Skill Points: 5 Drops: None

This enemy only appears in the Sandy Grave, and its counterpart level the Forgotten City.

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Sand Worm

Bestiary description: An enormous worm that lurks in the ground to snare its prey.

This huge worm erupts from a dune just outside the pyramid. The worm doesn’t really attack you, so much as wiggle around and hope to clip you. The tricky part is that the ground around it steadily pulls the player down and into the worm. It’s helpful to have a quick weapon with good range so you can stay aggressive while jumping to both keep free of the sand and keep away from the Sand Worm.

HP: 250 Strong: Strike Weak: Whip, Slash, Fire Exp: 100 Skill Points: 5 Drops: None

This enemy is unique to the Sandy Grave.

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Skeleton

Bestiary description: A skeletal corpse controlled by magic.

A classic bone throwing skeleton. They only throw weak little bones at you which can be destroyed mid air. At first they may not seem like a problem, but they’re often placed where they can hit you, but you can’t easily strike back. The Sandy Grave is the 3rd and final zone they appear in, so you should be comfortable fighting them by now. Just take your time when approaching them. If one is trying trying pester you while you fight a stronger enemy, note that their bones deal so little damage that sometimes you’re better off getting hit by them than the stronger enemies and using your invincible recovery frames to either strike back at the tougher foes or reposition. Just be careful they don’t knock you into another room.

HP: 10 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 3 Skill Points: 1 Drops: The Summon Skeleton spell (4.23%)

This enemy appears in the Entrance, the City of Haze, and the Sandy Grave.

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Skull Archer

Bestiary description: An archer made of bone.

Their arrows move pretty fast, but generally you won’t have a tough time with them. For whatever reason they’re normally encountered in stepped areas that don’t give them a clear shot at you. Be patient when approaching so you don’t jump into the path of an arrow and you’ll be fine.

HP: 40 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 16 Skill Points: 1 Drops: None

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, the Great Chamber, and the Entryway.

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Spittle Bone

Bestiary description: A four-legged skeleton that crawls on walls.

Last (and first) seen in Symphony of the Night about a decade earlier, since then the Spittle Bone has gotten a bit of an upgrade. Before it would drip (or spit) poison as it climbed around the room, but now it’s been outfitted with fire breath. Calling them Spittle Bone feels a little inaccurate now, but in Japanese their name is even more confusing. They’re directly named after the Artibatirae, an Ethiopian tribe of humans that walked on all fours and roared like animals. Historical accounts describe them as everything from merely strange to monstrous, but none mention fire breath. This monster doesn’t follow the player, but moves in one direction around whatever surface it’s on, whether that means it’s crawling around a small platform or circling the room itself. This not only makes it pretty easy to avoid most of them, but also actually kind of makes it a pain if you’re trying to beat any for their moderate exp.

HP: 10 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 33 Skill Points: 1 Drops: None

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, the Entrance, and the Nation of Fools.

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White Dragon

Bestiary description: The bones of a long-necked dinosaur, animated by a demonic force.

Based on (and sometimes directly named after) the Mesoamerican deity Quetzalcoatl, this dragon is attached to a wall and will lunge forward at the player. It’s hitbox is it’s head, which bobs around, making it difficult to hit without an arcing weapon or magic spells with large hitboxes. The level design usually pulls some kind of trick to prevent the player from simply sitting beyond its maximum range and attacking when it lunges and falls short. Traditionally you’d simply fight them in places too small for you to stand that far back. But in Portrait of Ruin the main places you’ll find them also have a lot of respawning Ghosts harrying you, and if you stand too far back they’ll often forget about you and leave you alone. For better or worse your best plan of attack is to get used to how it moves so you can safely get in it’s face and take it down quickly.

HP: 80 Strong: Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Fire, Holy Exp: 110 Skill Points: 4 Drops: None

This enemy appears in the Sandy Grave, and the Nation of Fools.

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Astarte (boss)

Bestiary description: A woman of irresistible beauty. No man can defy her will.

Astarte is based on the mesopotamian goddess of sex and war by the same name, and she is weak to all physical damage, and resistant to all magic.

She's got 4 attacks, but only occasionally attacks. Most of the time she'll just slowly stroll back and forth around the room. However, it's important you keep some distance.

– She has a quick lunging attack which can be difficult to avoid if you're in close.

– She can fire a tornado from her rod large enough that you'll have to double jump over it (or over her).

– She'll jump back and attack around the space where she was, which can catch people playing too aggressively or attacking while too close.

– But you also want to keep some distance to ensure you can dodge her magic arrows. The boss is designed around this attack, and if you can avoid it you’ll have little problem with her.

The arrows appear quickly spread vertically behind her and fly across the screen in an X-cross pattern so they make the shape of a bow-tie. It is best dodged by staying at midrange so you can jump over the thin midpoint point where the arrows cross.

If Jonathan gets hit by it, he'll be charmed and fight alongside the boss. You can avoid that by playing as Charlotte, as she's immune to the charm effect. However the bosses magic resistance means playing solely as Charlotte makes the fight much more difficult, especially when most of the bosses' attacks are designed to catch people that come in close, and Charlotte’s weapons all have pretty short range.

You can fight as Jonathan while simply pausing and swapping to Charlotte to avoid being charmed, just like how you can swap to avoid being cursed by the Ectoplasm enemy above. Though if you plan on doing so, I'd recommend playing as Charlotte for a bit first so you can safely see how fast the attack comes out. If it catches you by surprise you're in for a much rougher fight.

Jonathan can be defeated, but if you take him out he doesn't return to your side. He'll slump down on the ground and you're left to finish the boss alone. If worst comes to worst and he is charmed, defeat him first. They don’t fight in conjunction, but each attack you independently. Their uncoordinated attacks are not just difficult to read and respond to, but sometimes overlap in ways that you can’t avoid. This makes it even more dangerous for Charlotte to get in close and attack Astarte. And the boss takes so little damage from Charlotte’s magic that unless you've been wailing on her for a while and are already deep into the fight, you'll probably inadvertently take out Jonathan first while focusing on Astarte anyway. But also, Astarte still wanders around the room only attacking sporadically, whereas Jonathan is pretty aggressive. Since Charlotte's attacks either have short range or a cast bar, you defeat Jonathan if only to get some breathing room.

Though, you may also want to let Jonathan get charmed, for pausing the game at various points and using the Talk option gives some cute extra dialogue between Jonathan and Charlotte.

If you are struggling, the 1,000 Blades Dual Crush hidden in this level makes short work of Astarte. It’s the only Dual Crush that is canceled by enemy damage, but because the boss wastes time moseying around you'll have plenty of chances to use it to its full extent. Despite having over twice the HP as the previous boss she can only take a full 1,000 Blades a couple of times, and it can hit her while she’s off screen.

HP: 1,500 Strong: Fire, Ice, Electric, Holy, Dark Weak: Strike, Whip, Slash Exp: 3,000 Skill Points: 50

Tips & Tricks

Persephones gives easy money and health items. As mentioned above, she drops Frilly Camisole (5.64% drop rate), which sells for a surprising $2,450. If you farm her on your initial visit to the Sandy Grave you might not get time efficient returns, but after your luck stat rises you can expect about one Frilly Camisole every minute. This can really help if you're looking to buy the Golden Axe. As an added benefit, she also drops Pudding Bucket (2.82% drop rate), which restores 200HP (the same as a High Potion). If you don't want to venture all the way into the Sandy Grave to farm her, there are also many Persephone in the castle near the portrait for the Sandy Grave.

Charlotte is really good in this level. Not only are a surprising amount of enemies Weak to fire and holy magic, but her spells are great for keeping on top of the swarms of the Sandy Grave's swarms of monsters, especially once she gets the Clear Skies spell. If you've been mainly using Jonathan, I recommend giving Charlotte some time to shine here, in part because you'll want to have the hang of her for the boss fight in case things go south.

Being able to quickly tag between Jonathan and Charlotte is a valuable skill in this level, from avoiding the Ectoplasm's curse effect, to avoiding Astarte'a charm effect, to just cheesing some traps, etc. If you want to practice tagging between them, I recommend going into a room with Ghosts (like the lowest room along the right slope of the pyramid).

– They infinitely respawn so you can practice as long as you'd like.

– They deal negligible damage so messing up won't get you messed up.

– And because they move somewhat slowly they're great for players just picking up the timing of a good swap. Plus you can also let the ghosts swarm you if you're more advanced and looking to polish your twitch reflex.

Music

The Sandy Grave’s theme is Hail from the Past, a unique piece not reused elsewhere in the game. The sound effects in this game can be pretty loud, and are pretty constant. I appreciate how the song for this stage isn’t driven by a strong melody that the SFX and shouting will just eclipse, but instead the song is a moody groove that never feels interrupted by the action.

A remix of Hail from the Past is used in Castlevania: Harmony of Despair in the stage Beauty, Desire, Situation Dire, which is a colossal pyramid based off of The Sandy Grave. Another remix was made for Super Smash Brothers Ultimate. Check out Hail from the Past~

My Relationship to this Game

I’ve been entranced by Castlevania ever since my late grandmother got me a copy of Harmony of Dissonance for Christmas. I was especially entranced by Kojima Ayami’s art. Yet, somewhat surprisingly, I’ve never owned Portrait of Ruin. As shallow as it sounds, I got pretty turned off by the change in art style when the series moved to the 3DS. I also got Dawn of Sorrow for Christmas and it blew my mind, but at the store whenever I’d see a new one on the shelf the box art was always just enough to stop me from buying them… but it wasn’t enough to stop me from playing them, and I’d always pester my friend Jon to borrow his copy of Portrait of Ruin.

Also, Old Axe Armor mode rocks.

If you have a recommendation for a cool pyramid I could write about, or other suggestions, hit me up with the Ask Me Anything button.

#pyramids #pyramid levels #portrait of ruin

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sleepygaymerdisease · 4 years

Text

i am the peak of comedy

#based off that one image going around. if i can find it i’ll link it but it’s exactly as it looks #my art #yugioh #yugi moto #ani's tumble adventures

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elysianslove · 3 years

Text

shameful lust; suna rintarō

synopsis; he’s off limits in every way, but that only makes you want him more. based off of this, this, and this. the smut is inspired by my bunny anon’s birthday idea :) bunny, you know the one :)

pairings; brother’s bsf!suna rintarō x fem!reader

genre; porn with kind of plot lmfao

word count; 5.5k what the fuck??

trigger warning; age gap (not specified, & everyone’s 18+), masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, humiliation, praise, mini panic attack, link for the lingerie (slight nsfw warning)

it started off innocent, as most things do. you were sixteen when you first felt the butterflies nestled deep in your stomach, the drop of your heart, the heat of your cheeks, only around him. you’d thought it was a natural reaction; after all, you’d known suna rintarō since, quite literally, forever, and you were a growing girl, hormones imbalanced and thoughts as confusing as ever. it was normal, completely ordinary to feel as nervous as you did whenever his hand so much brushed against yours, or whenever he’d barely glance your way to offer a small, teasing smile.

it meant nothing, of course. you were just a young girl, sixteen, desperate to lose yourself in some sort of fantasy. a silly crush on your brother’s best friend was nothing strange, and definitely inevitable.

it would go away.

you’re eighteen when the feelings don’t go away, and when they begin reshaping into more— impure thoughts. the more you see of him, the more hyperaware you grow of everything that he is. suddenly your eyes easily find the small strip of skin revealed when he stretches his arms up, and suddenly you can’t help but constantly think about the way he sits, legs spread so wide as if to... accommodate something. suddenly your thoughts always find their way back to the way he’d hugged you goodbye, arms squeezing you so tight to him, allowing you to feel every ridge and ripple of his muscles, and the way he had ruffled your hair and his hand, so large, so easily sinking into the strands— and you’re left wondering what else his fingers could do in your hair, to the rest of your body—

it’s bad. it’s really bad. every day you try and convince yourself it’s innocent, and every night you prove yourself wrong when you find yourself on your stomach, face buried in your pillow and teeth biting down on it, mouth dampening the cloth as your fingers rub harshly at your clit and sink into your dripping cunt— all with his name falling off your tongue as you heave and cry. every night you think about how much thicker his fingers are in comparison to yours, how much longer, how they’d feel inside of you, curling within you. you know he’s dexterous, insanely good with his hands. you’ve seen the way his fingers fly across a keyboard or tap urgently at a gaming console. you know it, and it in no way helps in calming your frustration.

it’s bad, of course, but you live with it. after all, he is in every way off limits. a lot older than you, and much more experienced, suna would have to lose his mind before he ever thinks of you the way you think of him. what would a girl like you have to offer a guy like him anyways? your shaky hands and clumsy mouth? your tight cunt that can barely fit two of your fingers? you’d only leave him unsatisfied, and leave yourself utterly humiliated.

worst of all, however, you can’t imagine how devastated, how betrayed, your brother would be if he’d caught you fooling around with his best friend.

so although you’re yearning to say fuck all and fuck him, you don’t, because it doesn’t make sense in the slightest for you to do so. you continue to make due with what shirtless image of him or that time he slept over and went commando, waking up at the same time you had and his — his dick was hard— you could see—

fuck.

you need to grow up.

as you sit with your back to your headboard, your knees bent up and swinging slightly, two simple knock erupt on your bedroom door. it’s late afternoon, the sun’s brightness dimming slightly, casting your room in an orange glow. in all honesty, it’s soothing.

looking up from your phone momentarily, you call out for the person knocking to come in, your eyes returning to your screen once more.

“hey.”

at the sound of the awfully familiar voice, your head snaps back up and you lock your phone, looking up with newfound excitement at the man standing at your doorway. “hi,” you return with a smile, sitting up and crossing your legs.

suna smiles back, walking into your room with one hand tucked behind his back. “your brother said i’d find you here,” he explains, walking towards you.

you quirk a brow, curiously and amusingly smiling as you ask, “whatcha got there?”

he’s quiet for a moment as he walks over to your side of the bed, maneuvering in a way that doesn’t reveal what he has hidden behind him. you twist around on your bed, leaning on your knees to face him properly, and it’s just when you lift up slightly to settle comfortably that he leans down, bends over to get close enough to whisper, “happy birthday, pretty girl.” he gives you not another moment to process how close his face is — how close his lips are to yours — before the hand behind his back comes around between you.

tucked in his hand is a medium sized bag, not related to any sort of brand, so you assume it’s a simple bag he’d gotten from a convenience store. that would really only mean one thing— that he’s gotten you more than just one gift. you can’t see what’s in it since there are colorful papers stacked within it, obstructing your view, but you’re still flustered at the mere thought he’d even considered to buy you a gift. it’s not unusual; suna, every year on your birthday, has gotten you a gift, yet it’s usually more so a gag gift than anything. some inside joke of yours, maybe he’d pay for your dinner, things like that. never a full on, thought out gift.

“you didn’t have to,” you say, settling back down on your knees and hesitantly taking the bag from him.

he waves you off, disagreeing. “course i did; you’re nineteen now.”

you roll your eyes. “wouldn’t eighteen be more special?”

“fine,” he decides, playfully taking the bag from your grasp and pulling it to him. “guess i’ll just give this to someone else then— maybe your mom—“

“suna!”

at your reaction, he laughs boisterously, and against all odds, you find yourself smiling too. quickly, you reach out for the bag again, pulling it back to you.

“open it when you’re alone,” he disclaims, almost as if in warning.

warily, you eye the bag.

“sure.”

you try to be quieter when unboxing suna’s gift, but the paper’s scrunching is just so damn loud. after cursing it out, you finally rid the bag of its first layer of paper, and are met with a scented candle and some lotion. basic, expected. there‘s a card there too, and when you open it, there’s a note in his messy handwriting, reading out a simple happy birthday— and a good couple of yens too. money, a candle, lotion.

so basic.

there’s still more paper beneath, but you don’t expect it to be for anything except decoration, not for—

what the fuck.

What The Fuck?

your two hands dip into the bag, reaching out for the final gift, grabbing it by its straps and—

holy shit, he got you lingerie.

it’s so— sheer? you don’t think an inch of you will be properly covered, even with the lingerie on. it’s properly transparent, with only the intricate lace designs to modestly cover you. when you dig into the bag, you find the panties to match the bra and— well, it’s pretty, you can’t lie. there are dark, almost flowerlike designs all over, and it’s a deep black, nearly blue or green. there’s also a garter belt, but there aren’t any stockings in the bag to attach to the clips. maybe he’d expected you to take care of that?— ah no, you stand corrected. there are stockings.

fuck, he thought of everything didn’t he?

but more importantly, what the fuck does all of this mean?

burying the lingerie deep inside the bag again, and making sure to cover it up with the paper, thoroughly, you place the other gifts and the card back in and on top, before putting it aside on your bed.

and now, to gather your fucking thoughts.

you had to text him to thank him for the gift, obviously. but there was no way he’d accidentally misplaced the lingerie there. it was deliberately placed, with the way it was folded and tucked neatly, underneath an extra layer of paper above and beneath it? yeah, definitely on purpose. but— why? had he taken notice of your feelings towards him? was this his way of making fun or... reassuring you they were mutual?

god, what the hell are you thinking.

snatching your phone from your bedside table, you check the time.

2:01 a.m.

okay, everyone‘s bound to be asleep by now. hopefully. you eye the bag, so cautiously one would assume there’s some sort of killing machine within it. you contemplate. shake your head. no. the gears twist. yes.

no.

yes. no. yes. no—

fuck it, it’s yours anyways, isn’t it?

you snatch it loudly, rushing off to lock your bedroom door, then rushing to close the blinds, tightly, surely, then rushing to turn the lights off and turning the small lamp by your bedside on instead. what else are you meant to do with lingerie other than, well, put it on? it’s rational, you think, obvious.

it’s fine.

stealing one last, deep breathe, you dump the contents of the bag again, and pick out the lingerie.

it fits.

it fits perfectly.

the bra is snug against your chest, pushing at your breasts but not digging in uncomfortably. your nipples peak through what‘s revealed of the mesh, and when they stand perky and hard, you blame it on the fact that you‘re half naked. the garter belt wraps tightly around your waist, not squeezing to the point of discomfort and pain, but not loose that it’s a nuisance, and the clips that hang from it are attached to a pair of stockings that stop mid thigh, squeezing at the flesh. finally, a pair of panties rest on your cups, cupping your ass perfectly. it too is sheer, and god— you can see so much of you.

is this— what he would‘ve wanted?

you can’t deny that you do look good. it shows your figure off appealingly, and coupled with some dark lipstick, your messy hair, and the slightest smudge to your day’s eyeliner— would— would he have wanted you like this? all dolled up for him?

is this what suna likes?

doubting the fact that you’ll ever have the courage to put this set on again, you grab at your phone, clearing the area before your mirror, then sitting down at the edge of your bed. might as well enjoy it while it lasts, shouldn’t you? posing in the mirror, you appreciate the way you look, the way the dim lighting complements the atmosphere, the way the piece hugs your body and shows you off. you look so good.

so good— for him.

reveling in this surge of confidence, you snap a good amount of pictures, posing differently in each of them, taking them at different angles. your camera roll overflows with them, and as you fall back on the bed, hair splayed out on the mattress, you smile proudly at the pictures.

do you look good enough for him to see?

the thought strikes you suddenly; it tickles at the pit of your stomach, makes your knees bend and your toes curl.

should you?

the messenger app is open at the text messages between you and him before you can think, a picture of you uploaded and ready to send.

should you?

you tuck your lower lip between your teeth, mulling it over anxiously.

no, you most definitely shouldn’t.

quickly, you swipe out of the messenger app, and onto safari. porn it is.

you should‘ve turned the ac on. fuck, it’s hot.

3:10 a.m. 45 minutes since you’d put the lingerie set on and had your mini photoshoot, ten minutes since you’d started masturbating. everything’s still in place except for the garter clips, which have snapped off of your stockings at some point in the past few minutes, but you pay it barely any mind as your legs spread wider, one hand dipped beneath your panties, the other pressing hard against your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not that you generally had a problem keeping down your noises. your home was constantly filled with people, and you’re almost always sexually frustrated at the most inconvenient times. this time, however, it’s different. it’s different because you’re wearing a lingerie set that suna picked out, that suna bought for you, that suna gave you himself. would he have wanted to watch you touch yourself like this, dressed up so pretty? or— would he have wanted to fuck you while—

shit, you’re gonna cum.

you let out a broken moan, bleeding into a desperate son, muffled barely your hand. your fingers fuck into your cunt faster, squelching lowly as you arch your back, pressing your palm harshly against your clit.

“ugh, hngh,” you whine, squeal, wrist aching. “fuck, rin— please—“

you’re so loud, shit, shit, shit.

beside you, your phone dings! loudly, alerting you of a message received, but you can’t stop, not when you’re so close. it dings again, and again, but you continue to ignore, chasing your own high so desperately, faster, faster, faster. the coil tightens, your body tenses, mind hazing over and eyes rolling back— so close, so fucking close.

“well aren’t you a doll.”

your eyes snap open, and you only manage one second to process who the fuck and what the fuck before your hips are trembling and twisting, and your legs are shaking so awfully as your back arches deep. the moment you hear his voice, so deep and clear, looming just by the edge of your bed where you lay spread, fucking yourself, you cum— and you’re convinced you have a humiliation kink. you didn’t cum because you’d simply been close— you came because you heard him catch you.

in your post orgasmic daze, you pant deeply, chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. your fingers pull back from your panties, falling to the bed, sticky and wet, while your other hand falls from from your mouth, drool and spit dripping from the corner of your lips.

“aw, you ruined the set.”

you sigh. “rin.” the way you say his name isn’t in a way that’s calling out for him, but neither are you scolding him nor brushing him off for teasing you. you’re just simply trying to process the fact that he’s here.

“i like it when you call me that,” he admits, and in a second he’s falling over you, hands bracing and steadying him beside your head, keeping himself hovering at a small distance. “why do you always insist on calling me suna?” he wonders, head tilting curiously.

blinking slowly, you breathe in, and out, and ask, “what are you doing here?”

above you, he shrugs. “you were the one that sent me those—”

immediately, you’re pushing him off you, sitting up all too quickly as you reach out for your phone. you shakily unlock it, typing in your password and opening the messenger app. he’s right— shit. you could’ve sworn you’d deleted the photo, because you’d explicitly decided just how stupid sending it would’ve been.

well, look at you now.

“that wasn’t— oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you stutter, turning your body towards him once more, but avoiding his gaze, your body, only barely having just cooled down, heating up once more.

“oh?” he tests. “was it not meant for me?”

“no, i—“

he’s smiling all too wide for him to not be getting off on your embarrassment. at the thought of that, your eyes unintentionally snap up to him, to his crotch, where beneath his sweats is a bulge, and god, it’s like all those nights ago where you’d seen his dick through his sweats and he’s big, he’s so big—

“just where do you think you’re looking?” he sneers, hand all of a sudden gripping your chin, tilting your head back up and forcing you to finally, for the first time, meet his eyes. they’re dark, almost sinister, as they narrowly glare at you, begging you for explanation.

your mind’s no longer clouded over, all pleasure dissipating from your veins, pathetic humiliation replacing it. “i’m sorry,” you mewl, eyes tearing up at the look on his face. of course he was disgusted. just as your stupid crush on him was natural, so was his reaction. “i’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone,” you beg, lower lip wobbling.

his grip on your chin tightens as he furrows his brows. “tell anyone?” he questions. “about what?”

had he not— heard you?

he says your name, firmly, deeply, in a way that has you stifling your sobs and biting your bottom lip to stop its quivering. patiently, you wait for him to speak, to say anything, until finally, he asks, “do you want me to fuck you?” and your heart stops. “yeah?” he continues, his other hand reaching for your wrist, your hand, the same one that’s still sticky with the evidence of you. slowly, as he brings his lips closer to yours, fingers slipping so that he’s squishing your cheeks tightly, he leads your hand to his crotch, to where his dick is painfully hard beneath his sweats. your initial touch is featherlight, and he doesn’t fully press your hand to his clothed cock, but still, just the smallest, tiniest feel of him has the lust in your veins thrumming alive. “you think you’d look pretty—” he pauses, lips hovering by yours, eyes searching for any sign of hesitance or resistance, “sitting on my cock?”

“i’m sorry,” you apologize again, but he swallows it by finally, finally, pressing his lips to yours. his lips are so soft, softer than you’d imagined and fantasized a thousand times over, as they press against yours, managing to pull the softest moan of surprise and pleasure from you. you’d forgotten, in your moment of shame, just how much you’d craved suna rintarō. just how often you thought about him, those same fingers gripping your chin to be buried inside of you, those pretty lips sucking on your tits and clit. “want you so bad,” you hiccup, kissing him back. “so bad.”

he hums, amused, pulling back. licking his lips with a grin, as if tasting you, his hands leave you entirely, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he lifts it up, freeing himself of the piece of clothing. “don’t you think i know, sweetheart?” he teases, daringly. at the sight of your eyes widening, he nods with a dramatized serious expression, tutting as he adds, “so dirty, thinkin’ ‘bout me like that.”

you whine again, hands lifting up to obstruct your face from his view as you fall back on the bed, body bouncing slightly. “stop,” you plead, not for him to pull back but for him to stop reminding you of just how wrong it is to feel the way you do. still, you spread your sticky thighs for him when he presses his hands to your knees, and you shiver at the feel of his fingers tickling at your skin. “i’m sorry.”

“that’s okay, pretty girl,” he reassures you, faux sweetness dripping like honey off his tongue. he leans in, carefully slow, hands following the curve of his body and yours. “i want you too.” he smiles mischievously, leaning close once more. “so bad,” he mimics you, lips hovering right above yours before he kisses you once more. you want to pinch his arm for outright mocking you, because really, how infuriating can he be? but it’s impossible to want to do anything but desire him in every possible way at the moment, especially when he presses himself harder against you, hips slotting between your legs and clothed cock brushing against your dripping panties.

“rin,” you plead, hands clawing at his back, grasping at his shoulders. god, his skin is so warm.

“yes?” he drawls, wet lips kissing the corner of your mouth, trailing easily to your jaw, and down to your neck. patiently, he waits for you to speak.

with a trembling voice, you ask, “be quick. please.”

a little stunned, suna pauses his ministrations at your neck, but it’s barely for a second. because moments later, he’s grinning sinisterly into the crook of your neck, sucking hotly as he replies, “sure thing.”

you do want to take your time. you want him to stuff his face between your legs and sink his fingers so deep inside of you. you want him to force your mouth down on him, want to bury your face in your lap till you’re choking and gagging on his cock. you want him to take his time stretching you for his cock before he sinks inside of you, letting you feel every single inch and ridge of his dick until he bottoms out. you wish. you wish.

but you’re desperate, and needy, and frustrated, and most of all, you’re not even sure if this is real. you’re scared to blink and have him disappear all of a sudden. you’re scared to wake up with soaked panties and no gift from suna, no suna above you, hard cock pressing against your cunt, only the same suna from all these past years, the same suna you pine over at a distance, wanting but never having.

so you whimper so quietly, “be quick,” again, because he’s still too slow for your liking.

his fingers grasp the sides of your panties, pulling as quick as he can, sliding them down your thighs, watching as the cloth rolls at the urgency as it slides past your knees, your shins, your ankles, legs lifted high up. at the final loop around your right ankle, as suna flings it off, he kisses at your ankle, gripping it tightly and using it to spread your legs.

as your legs spread, your pussy, soaking from both your past orgasm and this unbelievable build up, spreads too, glistening and dripping for him. his eyes easily fall to it, and, with that same glint in his eyes, he grins, and licks his lips again. “wish i could have a taste,” he admits to you, shuffling closer and bending your legs closer to your chest with one hand. the other hand frantically pushes at the hem of his sweatpants, tugging it low, beneath his balls. “god, i’d have you sit on my face for hours.”

he’s going to kill you.

he’s going to fucking kill you.

at his words, your cunt pulsates and clenches tightly, hole glistening as you moan. you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does, somehow, and he laughs, too fucking loud. “you liked that, hm? bet you’d look so cute,” he spurs you on, and your entire body trembles.

you wish to say something, to find the courage to belittle him, degrade him, remind him that if you’re in the wrong for wanting this then so is he, but it’s so hard to find your voice. it’s like he’s stupefied you completely, reduced you to this dumb, wordless, horny mess. god, fuck, it’s embarrassing. you can only watch with wide, tearful eyes and quivering lips and trembling legs as he spits on his hand and fists his cock, quickly, getting himself all nice and slick for you. his cock is— he’s so big, fuck. if you’d been shocked feeling him beneath his sweats, well, your entire body’s rigid with anticipation now.

just as promised, suna’s quick. with one hand pressing and steadying firmly at your lower stomach, right by your hip, he guides his cock to your cunt with the other, wasting no time by pushing in. no way, no way, no fucking way.

how is he fitting?

“ease up,” he orders sharply, forcing more of himself inside of you.

in response, you bring both hands up to your mouth, clasping them tightly above your lips. you remaining quiet is as impossible as ever, with the way he’s stretching you so wide for him, so you press down harder with your hands and throw your head back as he sinks in deeper, and deeper.

“aren’t a good girl?” he praises sweetly, his other hand mirroring the one on your hip. he watches as you lower your head again, lifting it up slightly to look between the two of you at where he’s fully bottomed out, buried deep inside of you. “feel good?” he wonders, even if he knows the answer. your head falls back again and you nod with your eyes squeezing shut. “feel so full, yeah?” you’re glad he’s speaking for you, because you doubt you could find your voice at the moment, even if you tried.

you nod again instead, urgently, just as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you, before pressing back in quickly, thrusting into you suddenly. the sight of him above you is better than anything your mind has ever made up, hands squeezing at your hips tightly, both ensuring you keep your legs spread for him and keeping himself up, steadying himself as he fucks into you. his arms bulge and the muscles in his abdomen tighten and tense with every thrust. his chest, so flushed red; his hair, a little sweaty, a little messy; his brows, furrowed deep in concentration; his lips, wet and red, so fucking red, his tongue jutting out slightly as he picks up the pace, as he thrusts faster, harder.

and best of all: the noises he makes. he’s shameless, fucking into you with abandon, moaning and grunting and whining for you, like he’d been the one yearning, pining, and not you. and, you suppose, with the way he’s fucking into you right now, that there might’ve been some truth in his words, that he’s wanted you just as bad, that this wasn’t some pity fuck— poor little girl, his best friend’s sister, sending him lewd and inappropriate photos because she’s so desperate, she can’t help but lust after him, every single day.

his hands squeeze even tighter and he grunts, gritting his teeth sharply. “fuck, m’already close,” he grunts, and somehow, that makes your heart swell, pride deepening. “cunt’s so fucking tight, shit.” you’re making him say those words, you’re going to make him cum so quick, it’s you. you.

when his hands crawl up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading through the bra, your hands fall to his forearms, gripping so tightly and digging your nails into his skin. “please, please, please, cum inside,” you beg, trying to be as quiet as you can. “please rin, please.”

the bed creaks with the effort and speed of his thrusts, your body bouncing as his cock fucks deep into your cunt. his head bows in, smooth hair swinging forward as he curses. “are you— hm..hngh—sure?” he asks, and you nod so rapidly you feel dizzy, arching your back as much as you can to get him deeper inside of you. he’s a mess of curses and pants as he fucks you even faster, one hand remaining at your breast, grasping tightly, the other lowering to your wet clit, rubbing furiously, messily, clumsily.

no words are exchanged as he desperately circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers, squeezing and kneading your breast as he angles his hips, trying to get you to cum before he does. and just as as before, just as he’d caught you earlier, your body starts to tense up, shaking in anticipation as your orgasm draws closer and closer.

but there’s something— different.

“rin!” you yell out, still half-whispering in an attempt to keep quiet. your eyes well up as you call out for him again, your orgasm unbearably close. “rin, feels weird— oh m—”

he only just barely manages to shove his hand against your face before you’re screaming, throat aching and scratching as you thrash beneath him. around his cock, your cunt spams and clenches down tightly, cum splashing and spraying all over his lower stomach and past his cock to his balls. you’re still thrashing, still squealing and screaming, and he’s spilling inside of you, filling you up impossibly, his cum splashing and dripping as it mixes with yours.

“holy shit,” he breathlessly marvels, hips still rocking and grinding against yours as he helps the both of you ride out your highs. “you ever—“ he steals in a breath, steadying himself slightly, “—cum this hard?”

you’re sobbing, hiccuping and mewling and whining and crying, your body impossibly sensitive. tears stream freely down your cheeks as you sink into the mattress, feeling quite literally like jelly. slowly, suna pulls his cock out, trying not to get distracted by the way your cunt squeezes out some of his cum, and instead focuses on you, his hands cupping your cheeks softly.

“hey, hey, eyes on me,” he encourages, kneeling above you as his thumbs brush at your tears.

“m’sorry, ri— suna,” you heave, hands grasping his as your eyes water again, fresh tears joining ones that are yet to dry.

“what for, sweet thing?” he asks gently. when you start to lift yourself up, he leans back, sitting on your bed, giving you space to get comfortable. he watches with worried eyes as you furiously rub at your eyes with your palms and the back of your hands, as the tears never stop flowing. shit, did he fuck up somehow? he calls your name again, cautiously reaching out for you. when you don’t reject his touch, his heart settles, just a little. “tell me what’s wrong?” he offers again, and you sniffle.

“are you not disgusted?” you ask, voice wobbly and cracking.

his brows furrow, and he cocks his head. “because you... squirted?”

you slap at his arm with a roll of your eyes. “no, suna.”

“when did i lose my first name privileges?” he asks, dramatically shocked. again, you roll your eyes. well, at least the tears have ceased. softening slightly, suna sighs. he’s shit at this. he’s worse than shit at this. talking in general? awful. talking about his or someone else’s feelings? he’s sure the devil would be better comfort. still, he can’t just— leave you. he’s sure that would make things a thousand times worse.

and honestly, neither does he want to leave you.

“i can’t read your mind, pretty girl,” he reminds you, and momentarily, you look away.

until you inhale sharply, and meet his eyes again. “it’s okay...” you begin, trailing off as you attempt to gather your words, before continuing, “that i feel this way for you?”

at your words, at the much needed clarity, suna sighs in relief. so that was it. “more than okay,” he promises you.

you nod in understanding, before prodding further, “not weird?”

he thinks it over, before answering. if he’s honest with himself, the most he’d felt with you was sexual attraction. he liked the way your tits bounced when you ran to greet him or the press of your ass against his crotch when you passed by him to get somewhere. he liked— he liked thinking about your body, your lips, your hands. it’s why he sent you that lingerie set, the one that sits so pretty on your body right now. not that he’d been expecting you to send him anything, and he’d even anticipated that you might feel disgusted, might throw it in his face and slap him too. but he knew you better. suna was observant. he knew more than he let on, more than anyone could imagine. if he hadn’t realized your eyes on him in the past years, he must be blind.

still, he’s not sure if it was ever more, or if it is more. but, he supposes, it’s not an unimaginable feat. he thinks that maybe, there is a chance. he likes you, sure; you make his belly twist and his heart jump. but is he going to risk leading you on?

he doesn’t know.

he settles for, “good weird.”

your face is the definition of a question mark. “what the hell is good weird?”

“your face is good weird,” he retorts. it’s a bad comeback, terrible actually, but his face is flushing a dark red, and he needs to get away. you’re flustering him and it’s pissing him off.

“that’s so mean!”

yeah, the devil would’ve been better comfort. he wasn’t around though, so he made sure suna had been sleeping over that night instead.

worked in your favor didn’t it?

end note; my godddddfhksfhbskjbsb ,,, sorry if you found mistakes this took me all day and im not assed to proofread <//3 but i hope you liked regardless!!

#suna #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #suna x reader #haikyuu smut #suna rintarou x reader #rintarou smut #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #hq smut #sal's thirst tag <3

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anime-grimmy-art · 3 years

Photo

What do you do when there’s not much to an AU? You make up your own stuff, ofc. And as is per usual when I make Character Designs, I make up a shit ton of lore too.

The ramblings under the cut, but what I’m really interested in, is what you guys think. Do you guys have any headcanons/ideas for this AU? Let me hear them! Also, if you don’t wanna read on tumblr, here’s the Google Docs link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/151yshHxnb_--P6eMKkwkI2dee9xC_Llb/view?usp=sharing

Before I get into the characters’ roles, here’s some general facts and backstory of their town:

- Basically, it’s Undertale meets Harvest Moon / Stardew Valley. Well, kinda. I at least used that approach for coming up for the jobs for the characters. You know, how there’s always a general store, a doctor, a smithy, etc.

- The usual story of a HM game is that you come to a town that’s way past its glory days and you, as the player/farmer, help them get back to that. The “backstory” of the town is that that already kinda happened. I’ll get into it more in the character description, but basically when Asgore was still mayor, the town got really popular. Then yadda yadda, a certain tragedy happened, two kids died, and the town suddenly got very bad publicity. There was a lot of stuff going on back then, bad reputation being spread and also a lot of law stuff, cos, you know, supposed child murder ‘n all, so Asgore made the decision to shut off the town to ppl from outside. This was in the interest of most monsters living there, because as fun as it is to have a lot of people coming there, most just wanted to live a quiet life. Not everyone was happy with that though, so many moved away from town and some others are trying to get the town back on its feet. But more on that later.

On to the characters:

I’m just gonna start with the skelebros, cos it’s their fault in the first place I got so invested.

Basically, they are what the player is in hm/sdv. They just showed up one day, took over the abandoned farmhouse and began their life there. The two came to town way after it was “closed” and since then a new mayor has opened the possibility for new residents to move in. Their farm helps the economy of the town a lot and the mayor, like usually in hm games, is trying to use that to make the town more known again. The skelebros aren’t really working towards that goal however.

So, now a bit more detail on them individually.

Papyrus:

- The design is mostly based on what’s “canon” in this au.

- He works mostly on the fields and is in charge of the crops. Their fields aren’t spectacularly big, but still big enough to plant a few dozen rows of veggies.

- Paps also helps out a lot in town when he has the time. He helps Asgore with his plants, he goes fishing with Undyne, helps Toriel carry crates around and so on. This is inspired by the part-time job mechanic in HM ToT.

- Unbelievably, in this AU Pap is not an absolutely awful cook. Since he helps out at Muffet’s and Grillby’s a lot, they tend to show him some tricks to cooking. Even though Pap’s not a big fan of the greasy or overly sweet cooking those two do, he picks up a lot.

Sans:

- Again, design mostly based on the “canon” look. Maybe a bit more baggy.

- This is finally an AU this dude gets to rest. Since there are no resets and he doesn’t have to see his bro die again and again, for once in his life, he’s not a sad ball of depression. He’s just a chill and lazy dude that loves to make puns. Though, since he’s not too experienced with the feelings of loss, helplessness or grieving, he still tends to hide behind puns and fakes smiles if he does feel bad.

- Sans is in charge of the animals on the farm. Papyrus begrudgingly gave him that role since Pap’s loud demeanour and hectic movements usually scare the animals. Sans’ relaxed attitude draws the animals to him naturally and even if Pap mostly finds him sleep against a tree, in a stack of hay or on one of the sheep, the animals are always fed, healthy and relaxed, so Sans seems to be doing his job.

- Sans always has a small chic sit inside his hoodie or hat. Is it always the same one? Who knows, maybe.

- Sans also, somehow, can produce eggs out of thin air. Grab into his hoodie pocket, in his pants pocket, in his hat, in his slipper, there’s suddenly always an egg there. On good days he can even make butter or cheese appear.

Gaster:

- He’s literally just a scarecrow in this. Though, if you ask any of the bros why they designed their scarecrow that way, they won’t have an answer.

Frisk&Toriel:

- Frisk is mostly based on what I wore myself as a kid in summer. Just a loose shirt with a cappy. Toriel basically has her ut gown, just with an apron on top.

- Frisk just appeared outside the “magical” forest one day. Napstablook and his cousin found them and brought them to Toriel, who has been taking care of them since.

- Toriel runs the general store in town, but also often takes care of the few kids that still live there.

- Frisk usually helps out in Toriels store, plays with the other kids or sits around at Asgore’s. They’re notorious for nabbing small snacks, mostly from Asgore’s plants. You’ll always find them munching on something.

- Frisk was in town before the skelebros. Since they’d moved in, Frisk often went to spy on their farm. After a small incident with angry chicken, Frisk got to know the two better and now they see them as something between brothers and uncles.

- But Frisk honestly gets along with everyone. Just like in UT, they’ve not only been adopted by Toriel but literally everyone.

- Toriel and Asgore’s relationship is not as bad as in the main game, since, you know, Asgore didn’t kill literal children, but there’s still tension between them. Back when Asriel and Chara died and the whole thing with the bad rep for the town began, Toriel felt betrayed by Asgore focusing more on the town than giving their deceased kids the grieving they deserved. They’re not divorced, but Toriel still moved out and said needed space to think. Now that Frisk is in the picture though, the both of them are slowly coming to even ground and may even be able to talk things out and clear up the uncertainty of their decisions.

Asgore:

-Asgore has his UT Ending / Deltarune clothes, just with a gardener’s belt.

- He’s the previous mayor of the town, but after all the crap that happened, he stepped down from the position. Now he has his own little shop and sells seeds, saplings, homegrown veggies and fertilizer. So, basically what e.g. the Marimba Farm is in HM AP

- His main customer is Papyrus and they’re on friendly terms. Asgore is worried about how much and how hard Pap works, so he often gives him a discount.

- Since his family’s past tragedy, Asgore is kind of nervous around kids. So, when he first met Frisk, he hoped they’d not visit him too often. But to his chagrin, Frisk took an instant liking to him and spends a lot of time at his shop (and steals eats the fresh grown veggies). Now, he’s really grateful for that, because for one, he loves Frisk as dearly as he had his own children, and also because now the tension and mistrust between him and Toriel seem to grow smaller day by day.

Undyne&Alphys:

- I gave Undyne a pretty basic fisher’s outfit. Alphys basically has Elli from HM’s outfit, just a bit more doctory stuff added. She still has her canon lab coat too.

- In essence, Undyne and Alphys have 2 completely different jobs. Alphys is the resident doctor and Undyne runs the fish market.

Two things. Yes, I know Alphys is more a mechanic than a doctor, she fits the aesthetic though, so she’s the doc now. And no, Undyne being a fisherwoman is not cannibalism, think of it more as a shark hunting smaller fish.

- The reason I lump them together is because they act as the local “smithy”. Alphys is still really tech savvy in this (I mean, Mettaton is still part of this AU), so she takes on most problems with electronics and stuff. For Undyne, I didn’t want to lose her Royal Guard’s Captain image, so she’s really good at handling tools (and weapons, but Al doesn’t let her make them anymore). So basically, if there’s a broken tool, you can be sure that either Undyne or Alphys can fix it.

- As for relationships, those two are still an item. Alphys is still really shy and a shut-off, but since Undyne and Pap become best friends, she gets to know the skelebros better. She and Sans especially get along well, since most of the time Undyne and Papyrus are let loose, they sit back and talk about science-y stuff. (no, Sans doesn’t have a background in science but he’s still into sci-fi)

- Alphys has a bit of a strained relationship with both Asgore and Mettaton.

Back when Chara and Asriel died, it was because of “illness” (maybe poisoning?). Alphys feels awful because with her back then limited knowledge on medicine she couldn’t help the two. Asgore doesn’t hold anything against her but Alphys can’t help but feel guilty.

Alphys still built Mettaton’s body in this one. The two had a really big disagreement, because Mettaton hated the fact the town was going to close, and he couldn’t understand how Alphys could feel otherwise, even more so endorse the idea.

Mettaton, Napstablook, Mad Dummy/Mew Mew:

- Napsta and Dummy are pretty self-explanatory, they got straw hats. Mettaton’s outfit is a bit of a joke cos it’s a play on “work at the top and party at the bottom”. The tie has two different sides, one with the yellow red pattern, the other completely red. His “top part” is the business part, because when he’s on tv or in the mayors’ office, you don’t usually see his feet. The bottom is his party/dance part, cos his dancing/entertainment channels mostly feature his legs.

- Mettaton, still a robot, Napstablook and Mad Dummy are all still cousins in this AU.

- Originally, they all lived and worked at the Blook Farm, the Animal Farm of this AU. Mettaton, however, despised that simple live and after befriending Alphys and her building him a body, he left the Farm to pursue bigger things.

- Mettaton runs the local tv network. From weather to game shows, he does it all. He also runs the tailor shop in town that sells his designer clothes and merchandise. After Asgore stepped down, Mettaton also took over the role of town’s mayor and now works towards making the place more known again. Not everybody is happy with him doing that though.

- One of those people is the Mad Dummy. He can’t stand people anyways and he always claims that history would just repeat itself.

- Since the whole family is made of ghosts, they have different dummies and scarecrows they can use to take care of the animals. To mock Mettaton and kinda get back at Alphys for giving MTT such an opportunity, Mad Dummy found the blueprints for the Mew Mew robot and now modelled one of their scarecrows after it.

- Napstablook isn’t fond of taking over obejcts like his cousins do, so he mostly takes care of the snails. Somehow, he can interact with them even when incorporeal.

Muffet&Grillby:

- The two of them run the Inn together. Muffet cooks in the daytime and makes desserts, Grillby manages the bar in the evening.

- The two still can’t really stand each other but working together like this benefits them both because their rivalry just spurs them on more.

- Even though Grillby is a patient person, somehow Muffet is the only person who riles him up enough to retaliate. (Well, maybe except for Sans, he’s a strong second).

So, basically everything between those two is a challenge in some way. Even if Papyrus doesn’t notice, even his cooking lessons are a challenge for them.

- Even though they’re constantly bickering, after working together for so many years, there’s a strange level of respect and trust between them. Even if back when they first started this business, they’d pour salt into an already open wound, nowadays they’d know better and just take a step back from the other or even comfort the other (on very rare occasions only).

Asriel&Chara:

- They be dead. Kinda.

Some Characters that’d live in that town too but that I haven’t made designs for:

- Gerson is the original smithy of the town. He’d grown up in a family of smiths, but he’d always had an appreciation for the sea. That’s why, when the town became more deserted and Undyne had a good enough skill level as smith, he took up the Captains hat and now mostly spends his days out on sea. He also ferries people to places if they need him to. Oh, and just like in canon, Undyne learned most of her skills from him.

- Burgerpants is a poor dude Mettaton basically kidnapped when he was trying to get fame in the city. Now Burgerpants works wherever MTT needs him to, be that as cameraman for the tv shows, cashier in his tailor shop or his slave secretary in the mayor’s office.

- MK is Frisk’s best kid friend. MK’s parents are in charge of shipping the goods out of town and paying the individual people. MK’s the one that usually collects the goods at the end of the day.

- Other than that, there are only a few people in town. I’d imagine the older folks or the really young families stayed in town after it was closed. I think the librarby dude would still run the library. Some Snowdin residents like the stone family or the dogs also might still live there.

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neonponders · 2 years

Text

Tailor Steve who meets Billy years later and things 👀 happen 👀

This got long as hell so here’s an ao3 link ~

• • • • • • •

“Come in!”

Steve had heard the bell on his door but was more so telling himself to get through the maze of his studio to enter the shopfront to see a smiling woman and -

“Hargrove?”

For a long second, Billy Hargrove just stared at him. Shorter hair now, and a gold stud in his ear, but still the same sun-soaked freckles and hot blue eyes. Then, like a memory plucked right out of the water’s of Steve’s brain to smack him like a fish, Billy grinned. “Harrington. The one and only.”

“You know each other?” the woman asked. Steve focused on smiling at her and holding out his hand.

“We went to high school together. Like, a million years ago.”

“Maybe nine or so,” Billy corrected. Steve took the moment that the woman glanced at Billy running his hand through a shelf of fabrics to swallow for composure.

“What can I help you two with today?”

Dark, hazel eyes followed her hand reaching behind Billy’s back as she narrated, “This one needs a suit. We haven’t been able to find anything he likes, so Mr. High Standards needs one custom.”

Steve nodded. Suits were not his favorite things to make, but he’d done it before. “Sure. What’s the occasion?”

“White tie event,” she said.

“Oh. Classy,” Steve remarked, but he started observing these two with a more appraising eye. He didn’t remember Billy having money, but...a long time had passed. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you his manager?”

She blinked vacantly at him before epiphany made her laugh. “I’m his partner. His personal assistant needed a break from this errand.”

Steve laughed with her and strolled to the other side of the shop. “Oh, then I should show you the expensive fabrics, in case you get inspired.”

Even Billy chuckled at that, but they soon had to separate for Steve to do his job and for the lady to duck out for her own errands. Billy sauntered behind Steve into his studio behind the shop: a largish room with a couple of island counters featuring cutting mats and padding for needles to stick right into the table top.

Billy’s fingertips slid over the silk satin of a half-finished garment on one of the tables. With a measured breath, he said each word carefully, like he were calculating as he said, “When did you get into sewing?”

Steve inhaled deeply to sigh, “Well. When your dad ironically cuts you off while still demanding that you attend hoity toity dinners...you learn how to make cheap stuff work. Turns out, I’m kinda good at this.”

Billy slowly turned to take in the whole room: the shelves of things he had seen but didn’t know what they did. A pegboard that looked straight out of a garage but instead carried a whole rainbow-organized display of threads as well as more scissors than Billy thought a person needed. Square shelves of fabric next to horizontal rows of fabric bolts.

“I’d say you’re more than good at this. You own a couture business.”

“I got a backer,” he elaborated with a nervous smile. “A, uh, few. Some old ladies aren’t just rose perfume and mothballs. When they asked where I got my clothes and I said I made them, livelihood wasn’t such a bleak thing anymore. But anyways, take your time going through these catalogues.”

Billy focused on the thick tomes of magazines Steve heaved onto one of the tables. The latter prompted, “I remember you seemed to know what you liked, so...find stuff you like, and then I’ll take your measurements.”

A warm smirk moved Billy’s features as he took Steve’s place before the magazines. He spared a moment to watch Steve go around the room to the other table, working while Billy perused.

The magazine featured editorial quality images of various tuxedos, as well as pattern spreads and instructions on making one’s own patterns based on the styles within. Billy lazily turned the pages until he did start to see things he liked.

“This.”

Steve perked up and came around to see the images. Billy felt his warmth through the air as he pointed. “The higher waist?”

Billy hummed a confirming sound but turned the page to another example. “But the round labels.”

“Sure. Do you want coattails?”

“No.”

“Okay. How shiny do you want it to be?”

“Just like this. Shiny lapels but only semi-gloss on everything else. Not matte, or it’ll be dusty.”

Steve lifted his eyes with a smile. “Not all blacks are the same black. Let me show you.”

Billy felt a chill as his warmth moved elsewhere. Plucked a pile of folded fabric from one of the cubby shelves to scatter and compare on the table. “Velvet looks great, but I don’t recommend it unless you want to be a walking lint roller. Still, some blacks look really good without being shiny.”

Steve wasn’t wrong. Billy liked how velvet absorbed light and soon touched the same alternative fabric on which Steve had his hand. “This one.”

Steve brightened. “It’s good, right? I need to order more, though. How soon is your shindig?”

“A month. Is that enough time?”

Steve’s glow dimmed somewhat. “I’ll need to order it with express shipping, but - ”

“I’ll pay,” Billy disregarded.

“No, I didn’t mean that. Just - it might be down to the wire, that’s all. If you’re busy, regular fittings might be hard to do.”

“I can make time. Order it,” Billy finished before he meandered to the cubbies with silk alternatives. “And a waistcoat?”

Steve’s brows lifted and he scratched his forehead in a fleeting gesture, that hand moving right into a help yourself movement. Billy tossed the stack of silk onto the table, the fabric sliding like a deck of cards in front of Steve’s waiting hands. He moved them one by one over Billy’s selected body fabric until he selected the right one for the lapels, but then Billy lifted a different one for the waistcoat. A deep red that moved like black ink in the shadow, or golden-orange sunlight right where the light struck it. The floral pattern woven into it shined or receded into the shadow.

“It’s a white tie event, you said?” Steve clarified. “Those are usually very penguin-esc, right?”

“Penguins have colors,” Billy disregarded. “I like this.”

“It’s a dupioni silk. It’s woven with two different threads so it has that duo-chrome effect, but it also has this linear texture that some people don’t like. This is going to be very bright if it’s your whole waistcoat.”

Billy did not verbally agree with that, but instead said, “Line my jacket with it and make it the back of the vest. I want to see it, even if I’m the only one who knows it’s there.”

Steve set it with the other stack of fabrics and made some notes on pad of paper. Tearing those off, he pinned them directly to the table beside the stack. Billy’s eyes tracked every movement; how Steve lay on his stomach to write, halfway crawling on the table with a certain familiarity like -

“You move like you live here.”

Standing once more, Steve flashed a smile and laughed, “Yeah, I do. I mean, stuff needs to be ready for clients, right?”

But Billy leaned against the table while looking behind them at a very discrete door. The glass window revealed it to be covering a narrow staircase. “What’s up there?”

“My loft.”

“Then you have a weak excuse to be late for anything.”

Steve didn’t have a response for that. So he neglected to give one and instead held up his measuring tape. “Can I measure you while you look at white silks?”

Billy removed his casual jacket and easily picked a gentle off-white for the front of his waistcoat. Steve, meanwhile, tickled his skin by moving the tape across his shirt, measuring the mantle of his shoulders. He had a whole pre-made diagram printed out that he filled in with all of Billy’s measurements.

Billy let Steve move his limbs how ever he needed them. Felt the slide of the tape and the rustle of textile as he cinched the tape around his arms. Heard the soft hush of Steve’s breath as he moved the tape around Billy’s torso. Chest. Waist. Hips. Knelt on the floor for his outer leg and inseam.

The scratch of the pencil was loud on the paper.

“Okay. I think you’re good for today.”

Billy swallowed and started easing his arms back into his jacket sleeves before deciding against it. Too warm.

“When do you want me back?”

“I can have your waistcoat done as early as this weekend. I’d suggest picking out a shirt or two, and then come in ready to try those on with the vest. My appointment calendar is out front.”

Billy led the way this time to the shopfront, but lingered behind the counter beside Steve. The latter withdrew a large calendar meant to be hung up on a wall, but Billy watched his name get written in ink, and paid the consultation deposit.

Come the weekend, he arrived alone.

Steve poked his head out of the studio when the bell chimed on the door. “Hey! Can you wait a few minutes? I’m just finishing up.”

Billy did, and smiled kindly at the prior client leaving. Or rather, clients.

Billy walked right into the studio after the shop door twittered closed and found Steve putting away the materials for the mother and daughter. Billy teased, “Princess gown for a birthday or something?”

Steve glanced at him and corrected, “Ballet apparel. Activewear is not a regular commission for me, but when your kid is allergic to every kind of plastic out there, you need to have a hookup for natural fibers with stretch. Do you have a shirt picked out?”

Billy lifted the pair of shirts in his hand, still ironed and folded perfectly so he looked like a waiter holding a tray. Steve moved a sapphire velvet curtain that revealed a closet or butler’s pantry that had been renovated into a changing room. “Take your time, and here’s your vest. Be gentle. I haven’t finished the seams.”

Steve’s words petered off as he watched Billy’s mouth part at the sight of the vest. It was small, simple, but the little curve of relief and intrigue on his features seemed...genuine. More genuine than how Billy walked with a meticulous, conscious gait. In high school it had been all hauteur and bravado. Now it was quiet and controlled; the difference between a wild cat running versus walking.

The curtain shut behind him and Steve allowed himself his own smile of fascinated relief. Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove were known for not getting along. Meeting by chance now, years later, was...nice. Whatever had happened and changed in Billy’s life seemed to be doing him much better than the shit show of high school. Steve could hardly fault him with his own home life circumstances.

Yes, it helped to have a client who was extremely attractive. Steve used to despise Billy all the more for being handsome and knowing it, but now he made a note in Billy’s client papers to later ask if he’d let a photographer get some shots for Steve’s portfolio. It would be nice to show clients his own work as often as the magazines.

And he really hated making suits, so he didn’t have many of those to show off.

“Steve,” he heard a second before the brass hoops scraped with the curtain opening. He came around to see Billy in the shirt and vest, cuffs and collar wide open. Between the white front and the vampire sunset on the back, Billy looked like an ember in a smithy fire.

Steve put his hands on his hips and smiled. “What do you think?”

Billy rotated to see himself in the massive mirror again. “I like it. But not this strap.”

He reached behind him to touch the adjustable strap behind his waist. Steve offered, “Do you want it perfectly tailored to you? I can do that, but the fittings might take longer.”

“That’s fine. Should I take this off?”

“Nope. Just stand still.”

Steve reached for something on one of the tables and set a magnet covered in pins beside them before turning Billy all the way around by the shoulders. With the reflection at his disposal, Billy heard and watched Steve seam rip the back of the waistcoat. The strap and buckle landed on the table, tossed aside. Steve pulled a white pencil from behind his ear and marked things Billy couldn’t see.

Every so often, Steve peeked up to also use the mirror. Billy felt the fabric cinch around his waist during these time, like Steve wanted to make sure it looked right from the front.

Billy blinked out of a reverie when Steve’s arms wrapped around his front to undo the buttons. “Gently. You’re full of pins back here.”

Billy let him ease the vest off his shoulders and stepped out of it. Steve laid it carefully on the table and asked, “I have a mockup started of your jacket. Do you want to try it? It’s still rough.”

“I’ll try it.”

It certainly was rough. Billy felt like he was wearing painter’s canvas, and it did not have the lapels yet, but the silhouette looked right.

By that point, the bell on the door chimed and Steve ushered, “Take your time changing. I’ll be right back.”

But Steve didn’t come back.

Billy switched back into his comfortable clothes and emerged upon Steve laughing and chatting with his girlfriend. She cocked her hip, weight bouncing to one side when she saw him. “There you are. How’s it going?”

Steve slouched with his elbows on the calendar. Billy heard himself reply, “Good. Real good. What do I owe you?”

Steve shook his head and reached for a pen. “Just fitting appointments till it’s done.”

Billy looked at the calendar and pointed to an available date while he asked, “Did the fabric get here?”

Steve wrote his name and answered, “It should be here a couple of days before I see you again. You’ll be able to try on the vest and pants.”

Billy went around the counter and opened his arm for the woman to step against his body. “Till next time, Steve.”

However, the next time Billy walked into the shop, he immediately gripped the bell to make it quiet.

Arguing.

He knew the tone without hearing the words, so he carefully shut the shopfront and tread close to the studio door.

“...such a prick - ”

“I’m not a prick for wanting to see you.”

“And the fact that I got a shipment in this week is just a happy coincidence,” Steve scoffed. “Get the hell out.”

“No. We’re going to talk about this. About us.”

“Us? Us being how you got in my pants just to steal from my shop? Or how you’re due for a restraining order for spying on my packages?”

“I’m not spying - !”

A man. Steve was arguing with a man.

A man whose head whipped around when Billy stepped into the room. Then he had the gall to hiss at Steve, “Who’s this?”

“My client, jackass - ”

Billy’s hand gripped the front of Steve’s sweater as he stepped in between them, moving Steve behind him. Half of his mind stayed on Steve’s hands gripping him in return, but Billy was still stronger than him.

The man exclaimed, “I ought to call the police on you, handling a person like that!”

Billy replied, deadpan, “The police go where the money is. I can have a restraining order faster than it would take a judge to write it. Get lost and stay lost.” He turned his head, implying his next words were for Steve. “Does this place have security?”

“Infrared cameras. Finally,” Steve breathed, and there it was. The man’s face paled a second before he clenched his jaw and threw his weight into eager steps to get the hell out of there. Billy rotated in time to see the way Steve grimaced at the audibly rough handling of his shop door and bell.

He rubbed his face, dislodging his glasses as he said, “I’m sorry you had to walk in on that.”

“I didn’t know you wear glasses.”

Often, clearly, by the unconscious, practiced way Steve readjusted them with a simple push. The golden metal frames suited him.

“Aging,” he tried to say with humor but added, “My vision goes when I’m tired. Long days get glasses. And your fabric is expensive, but I guarded it with my life. I already put your vest and trousers in the dressing room.”

“Do you really have security footage?”

Steve had trouble steeling his features. Between work fatigue and the extremely recent encounter - Into Steve’s pants, huh? - Steve nodded almost sadly. “Yeah, but I haven’t looked at it yet.”

“Well when you do, send me the files.”

“Billy - ”

“Steve,” he finished, twirling around to shut the dressing room curtain behind him with a benevolent glare.

The pants were unfinished, but they looked good and the waistcoat shined just how he wanted. Billy opened the curtain for Steve to take a look, and got immediately met with, “Wait! You’re barefoot, stay in there. There’s always a needle hiding out here.”

So Billy stood in front of the mirror on a pillowed stool Steve brought in, and the latter sat on the floor. With his magnetic bowl of needles beside his hip, Steve took his time hemming the trouser legs. They didn’t say much. Then again, they didn’t need to. But Billy felt the difference between Steve professionally moving around one ankle with as little touch as possible, and then wearing down to lean his knuckles against Billy’s skin.

Steve looked up at him in the mirror’s reflection. “How’s that? You can take some steps if you need to.”

Billy did, and even slipped into his shoes to get a better idea of how the legs hung. “Half a centimeter higher.”

Shoes off, he stepped back onto the stool. Steve scooted around him again, measuring the first needle adjustment and then working by memory.

Billy didn’t need the higher hem. But he didn’t want to leave, and heard himself ask, “Beyond cameras, what’s your security?”

“It’s not your job to worry about me,” Steve groaned at his feet.

“An asshole knowing where you sleep warrants new locks.”

“Thank you. Billy,” Steve finished flatly.

“I meant it about the footage.”

“You’ll get it. Even though I don’t know how you’ll swing a restraining order for me.”

Billy stood quietly for a moment. Then, “I have experience getting them for people.”

He watched in the mirror as Steve peeked up at him and said, “I’m sorry.”

Billy frowned at himself. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Nothing specific. Just life’s bullshit. You’re done.”

He stood up and stretched his lumbar while Billy felt out the hems. “What do I have, a week or two before your event?”

“Two,” Billy confirmed as Steve left the dressing room and closed the curtain for him to change.

“Okay. I’ll have your jacket ready for your next fitting.”

Like Cinderella hearing the clock strike, Billy heard the shopfront bell, and Steve’s subsequent footsteps to meet his next client.

Billy grit his jaw, wanting...something. But Steve passed by the curtain and out of the room. Billy changed clothes, leaving the items on a sewing table. And while Steve wrote his next appointment, Billy slipped Steve’s hair behind his ear.

Dark eyes blinked and lifted to blue ones, but not angrily. Vacant. Puzzled. Receptive.

Billy held his gaze as he rounded the counter, and then left.

Steve had his business card on file, but only used the email on it to send the security camera footage.

Except, for a phone call. Billy held his breath when he answered, listening to Steve’s voice ask for confirmation that he could still make his appointment the next day. Steve had never called for a confirmation before. Billy gripped his phone, ear searching Steve’s voice while he reassured, “You’ve got me locked in.”

A pause.

A pause? Billy couldn’t be sure. He just knew -

You seemed to know what you liked, so...find stuff you like.

- he liked. He wanted.

“Okay. See you tomorrow,” Steve finished. Billy pressed the corner of his phone against his lips, wanting to have heard frustration or even nerves in Steve’s voice. He was certain he did. He wasn’t certain of anything.

Billy knocked on the doorjamb of the studio the following afternoon, but was not greeted immediately. In the late afternoon, Steve had turned on warm lights to give the storefront an almost fairytale ambiance, in which he noticed the calendar was still on the counter. He read how the appointment after Billy had been marked out with an arrow pointing to its rescheduled date. Billy was the last appointment of the day.

“Hey,” Steve greeted breathily, like he had rushed from somewhere. Billy stepped through to the studio, and Steve waved the jacket in the air like a tablecloth. “The lining’s not in there yet but give it a shot.”

Billy took it while observing the disarray of the room. Steve was certainly in the middle of several projects at once. A clothesline hung alongside the far wall, hanging with fabric, pieces in various stages of completion, and ribbons. The iron stood on the table with Billy’s lining silk, no doubt awaiting to be cut. His hands moved over his jacket, still warm but fading from its time with the iron.

“Take your time. Make sure it’s right,” Steve prompted, running his hands through his hair. Billy’s lips parted. With the clothesline blocking out what natural light remained in the day, and all the warm lighting making up for it, it felt much later than it was.

Billy closed the curtain and scrubbed a hand over his face. He dressed in his semi-finished tuxedo while listening to the soft hiss of steam from the iron. When he stepped out, he walked quietly up to Steve ironing and pining stencils to the silk. Billy let his body line up flush with Steve’s, leg knocking his congenially.

Steve looked at him, before dropping his gaze to the suit. “How is it?”

“Good,” Billy purred, eyes roaming over Steve’s work table. He felt interested and...oddly at peace in Steve’s creative space. “Better than good. The invitation implied I’d have to wear one of those starched dickey things. I’d rather drive my Camaro off a cliff.”

Steve smiled but asked, “You still have that car?”

Billy pointed a very Billy look at him. “Of course I still have that car.”

Steve’s eyes flicked up behind his glasses, rolling briefly. “Right. You’re still the same Hargrove. Take a lap, feel it out. Sit down and stuff. Make sure it does everything you need it to do.”

So he did. Billy wandered the studio, feeling every fabric along the way. He sat at one of the stools and tested the groin by opening and closing his knees. He swung his arms around. He watched Steve cut the panels for his jacket lining. And write directly on the fabric with his tailors’ pencils. Eventually Billy realized, “Is that my fabric? I thought I had flowers.”

Steve turned one of the pieces over, revealing said flowers. “Some fabrics have two sides. You iron silk on the back side.”

“I don’t think I’ve ironed a thing in my life.”

A small smile curved on Steve’s face without looking at him. “I didn’t either. Until I realized it calmed me down. Is the suit okay?”

Billy nodded and stood up. “It will be once the lining is done. When will that be?”

Steve followed him to the dressing room, but Billy noted how Steve’s head tilted like a bird, observing how the fabric move over the back of him. Then he reached for the curtain to close it for Billy; the same time Billy lifted an elbow high up to say, “I think there’s a needle in here. It’s been poking me.”

“What?” Steve blurted, alarmed. He stepped close to hold the fabric off of Billy’s pit and ribs -

Billy’s arm draped over him, hand on the back of Steve’s hair making him look up just in time for Billy’s lips to touch his own.

Soft. A test. As quickly as Steve instinctively kissed back, he jabbed, “You smooth shit - ”

He’d kissed back.

Billy turned fully to him as his hands pushed into Steve’s hair, cradling his head. Billy kept his lips soft, wanting to feel Steve’s mouth. But as soon as he sealed their mouths, he parted to tilt his head. Another angle. More.

Steve hummed a little, surprised sound, and then a louder one as Billy pulled him through the curtain into the dressing room. Air rushed out of him when Billy pressed him to the wall, hands moving down to Steve’s waist -

It wasn’t the soft flesh Billy wanted. He lifted his lips to stare down at Steve’s abdomen curved flush against him before outright yanking the button-up out of his jeans. He heard Steve’s wet swallow and hot blue eyes met shaded brown ones. “Is this a corset?”

“A back brace,” Steve croaked.

“It’s too pretty to be a back brace,” Billy purred. Warned. He thumbed at the silken, honey fabric wrapping, admittedly, only around Steve’s waist and lumbar. But it was pretty, and Billy began slipping those buttons free to see more -

One of Steve’s hands moved to Billy’s chest. “We should - ”

Billy kissed him, cutting off his words and yanking his pelvis forward so Billy’s arm could hook behind his back.

“ - shouldn’t. Billy - hahmm...”

Steve tasted Billy’s tongue, and he was lost. His arms went around Billy’s neck, clutching him tightly as the tip of that tongue teased Steve’s lips open and fucked his mouth. Steve’s leg wrapped around Billy without him realizing, but Billy pressed himself into Steve, causing the latter to detach with a gasp and a strangled sound when Billy rutted against him.

“Ahh! Fuck, ow, my jeans - ”

Billy all but ripped the jeans closure open, zipper grating open before he left it to attend to Steve’s shirts again. The damned outer button-up and the t-shirt underneath the brace - Billy threw one to the floor and yanked on the other till it was free and it went too. He wanted to leave that silk on Steve’s skin. Wanted to see Steve chest and nipples, and got it.

“On the floor. Lie down. Steve...”

It wasn’t graceful, but they made it to the floor with Steve kicking off his jeans and Billy shoving his boxer briefs halfway down his thighs until Steve got at least one leg free. Steve’s hands slipped between them to open Billy’s newly made trousers while hard and soft kisses alike drew whines and moans from Steve’s throat.

When the velvet of Billy’s erection touched Steve’s, Billy ate Steve’s shuddering moan directly from his lips. In the humid space, Billy’s hand tipped a finger into Steve’s mouth, gathering spit at the risk of unready teeth scraping over his digit joints. A line of glistening spit followed him out, making Billy wonder if Steve was a drooler. His cock only kicked at the thought, making him throb with need.

Steve panted as the finger found his ass and nudged inside. He haphazardly removed his glasses from his face, now too heavy. He tossed them somewhere as Billy worked on his ass.

“Ah! Easy,” Steve warned, taking Billy in hand to hopefully calm him down. Make him patient. Or resigned. “We don’t have lube - ”

“Steve,” Billy hushed, and continued his turmoil over Steve’ throat. Steve stroked him, firm but slow as Steve dripped more pre than he’d like to admit from the sounds Billy made. Guttural, breathy moans deep from his chest that stirred Steve’s brain like a stew. His breath hitched at the second finger inside of him.

“Spit in my hand.”

Steve’s head turned, either confused or incredulous at the waiting palm. In the deliriousness of the moment, he did, only to blurt a disgusted laugh at Billy adding own right to it. His giddiness flowed right into, “That’s not gonna work,” but as he watched Billy slick himself up, Steve knew they were close. His own erection bobbed with his heartbeat, glistening with pre and just the thought of having Billy’s mouth on him made a pearly bead slip out of his hole...

Steve heard it like it was a thousand miles away.

The bell on his door.

Billy matched his cockhead with Steve’s entrance the same time the latter clenched his arms. “Billy!” he breathed. “Wait. Someone’s here.”

To Billy’s credit, he did. His head turned a little to better hear a familiar voice call, “Steve? Billy!”

In the sudden quiet, their breaths were loud. So were her footsteps drawing nearer. Both Steve and Billy made their breathing quiet when they heard the creak on the jamb separating studio from shopfront. “Steve?”

Steve’s grip tightened on Billy. The curtain was closed. Mostly. Anyone looking through the cracks would see. See Steve with his legs folded up and around Billy. His underwear hanging off one leg and Billy’s slacks pushed halfway down his ass...

Billy! Steve mouthed as the head of his cock slid inside. Even the scratch of textile was loud. All Steve could do was control his breathing and hope that the rustle of his hair on the floor wasn’t a siren screaming behind the curtain. He grimaced at the hot push of Billy inside; felt Billy’s breath follow the line of the engorged vein in his throat.

The doorjamb creaked again with the press of a foot stepping out of the studio. Billy failed to keep his voice in when he sighed upon bottoming out. Like a trip wire had been cut, he started to move. Short thrusts due to their lack of lube, but their mutual, Hahh, ah! Ah!, brought them to clumsy, hard, finishes.

A little huff of shock came out of Steve when Billy pressed their noses together. Everything felt too stuffy, all of him molten. Warmth and relief after pleasure, and utterly terrified. Steve felt the choice to languish in afterglow or to push Billy off of him.

He chose the latter, looking down and sighing at the miracle that was his cum on his own front instead of Billy’s new clothes. The latter landed on his side but rolled close to him, nose in Steve’s hair until Steve sat up.

“Get dressed. She’s probably waiting in the front.”

“She probably left,” Billy refuted, but Steve already snapped his boxer brief waistband into place. Billy stood with him, thinking of the loft upstairs. “Let me clean you up - ”

“Steve?” they heard again.

Billy loathed how fast Steve got dressed. Jeans and t-shirt on, he left in a breeze to distract the woman and apologize for taking so long. Billy heard some bullshit about him being in the bathroom, he’ll be down soon, etc. etc...

“I’ll have your suit delivered as soon as it’s done,” Steve promised when he emerged from the studio.

Billy’s features hardened. “There’s time for another fitting.”

“It’ll be ready,” Steve shook his head. “It’s up to you to know how to tie a bowtie, though.”

The woman laughed, hooking her arm through Billy’s after he paid. Steve did it all stoically, like he didn’t have Billy’s cum soaking into his underwear, nor that Billy’s sex smell had been left behind in the dressing room and his soon-to-be-finished tux.

“Thank you so much, Steve,” she said as they parted.

“Have a good night,” he returned, not looking at either of them. Billy felt like he’d left his body in that dressing room. When his girlfriend asked why he wasn’t listening to her, he excused himself for not feeling well.

Steve closed the shop early. He sat on the floor of his shower, hands over his mouth, wrestling with abject horror and molten feelings still lingering in his bones. The longer the water took to wash through him, the more he felt better...

Until he picked up the garments Billy had left on one of his tables. Lifted them to his face the way he had after every single fitting. Breathing him in...this time smelling more. Christ, Billy had always smelled good. Cleaned up nicely. His aroma had evolved but he still smelled like a man in the best way.

With heavy eyes, Steve scratched out the note about a photographer in Billy’s customer notes. Steve would never survive a photoshoot. He’d finish the ensemble, send it to Billy’s residence or office, and -

Today would be the last time Steve ever saw him. Saw them. Partner, she’d said. Billy had never said anything.

Before his sanity either exploded or abandoned ship, Steve vacuumed the dressing room and studio. Then he took the jacket and lining pieces upstairs to hand sew the thing while something mind-numbing played on television.

He ironed it a final time.

Tried it on himself. The jacket was loose on him. Billy’d always had more meat on his bones, but their frames were similar. Steve sewed in his tag, like an artist’s signature, and then arranged the ensemble in the hangers of the traveling bag.

He felt...sad, seeing the delivery man walk out of the shop with it. This hadn’t happened since he’d first started taking commissions. Like he didn’t trust his own patrons with the clothes he made. Now, he usually felt good to get a thing of labor out of his shop and pay his bills. But...every now and then...something hurt. Like Steve had accidentally sewn a piece of himself into the material. Another fragment of his soul, gone. He didn’t know how many he had left.

Billy got the email informing him of the impending delivery. His personal assistant caught it, tipped the delivery person, and unzipped it to see for herself. She whistled. “Nothing like a crisp, custom designed suit. Armani couldn’t do this for you?”

Billy didn’t respond. He gazed at the email from Steve’s shop the way he had been over the last hour.

“Uh oh.”

Billy grunted an acknowledging sound before her tone properly filtered through his mind. “Uh oh?”

“You know what, uh oh. Do me a favor and don’t trade mark your Uh Oh.”

His lips parted, frowning bluntly at her warning yet amused glare before she hung up the traveling bag behind his desk and strolled out of his office. “And don’t be late.”

Billy swiveled his neck for a stretch, deeply considering how worthwhile it would be to go all the way down his building for a cigarette. Should’ve invested in a place with balconies.

But he didn’t leave his office. He wanted to remember the touch of Steve’s lips, even though it had already faded to memory in the days since their...

Incident? Billy didn’t like that word. A connotation that they had done something wrong. Billy felt a fire in the back of his heart, lit with craving and only burning brighter now with fuel. Now that he knew how Steve tasted, how he sounded. Knew Steve’s softness and his heat...

He wasn’t late. Hair combed into place, face clean shaven, and all of the silk linings of his suit sliding home around his body, he was ready for the evening of costumed networking. He picked up his...date...and they met his personal assistant there.

Billy smiled, conversed, and shook hands without any of it reaching his eyes. His assistant traded business cards with other assistants and secretaries while Billy politely excused himself more and more to go to the open bar without actually ordering anything.

A deep inhalation and sigh brought his attention to his personal assistant. “Am I done yet?”

“Nope. You’re not being as discrete as you hope you are.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Then cut whatever ties you need and let’s get this show moving.”

“That involves me leaving.”

“Then scram.”

He paused and peered at her. She raised her brows with a shake of her head. “Take your date home, at least, you ass. Make a scene on her porch, not here.”

And that he did. Billy had never had finesse when it came to getting out of a relationship, only into them.

With a searing handprint on his cheek and the roar of his engine, Billy felt angry, light, and burning.

He parked in front of Steve’s boutique. He stood out of his car and gazed up at the illuminated windows of the loft while he threw his tie on the seat and locked his car. Since it was his home and business, Billy assaulted the doorbell encased in brass beside the doors. The windows in the doors had curtains, closed against Billy being able to see Steve arrive in pajama shorts, a t-shirt, and his glasses until he whisked one of the doors open.

“What?” he barked, “What? What, dipshi - ”

Billy stepped so far into his space that his chest bumped Steve backward apart from his hand catching Steve’s nape.

“Mm - ” he grunted as Billy walked him backwards and kicked the door shut. “No - ”

“Steve,” Billy exhaled. Demanded. Begged.

“Billy, no,” Steve whined.

Billy’s fingers splayed over Steve’s cheek, thumb on his chin as he said over those lips, “I told you: you’ve got me locked in.”

Steve’s eyes gazed at him, heavy lidded as he shook his head a little. “What does that mean?”

Billy licked Steve’s lips, making him tremble. But Billy’s other arm came around his back, holding him steady and feeling soft muscle through his shirt. “It means take me upstairs. Please.”

A little breath moved out of Steve. It was the only amount of time Billy waited. He claimed Steve’s mouth, and moaned when Steve melted into him. Billy felt held when Steve’s hands found his nape, caressed through the hair behind his ears and head.

Steve did have lube upstairs. Billy filled his sheets with everything he could; his fragrance and their mutual lust. He took every touch and kiss Steve gave him through the alley of undone buttons before he finally mounted Billy. Barely unwrapped while Steve rode him naked.

After he properly undressed, he took Steve again on his stomach, lying atop pillows for comfort and access while no moans or cries went silenced or hindered. Steve came, sweet and trembling with Billy’s nose and words in his hair.

Billy missed the mirror downstairs. But they had time for that.

#i warned everyone that my sewing adventures would lead to this #harringrove #tailor!steve #rich boy!billy #tw cheating #billy has a girlfriend but not for long lol #smut ahoy #hawt #happy valentine's day? haha

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eclectickss · 3 years

Text

Make Me Feel Special (2/2)

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Link to Part One also tags: @bowtothewitch <3

Warnings: no plot, mommy issues/kink, major age gap (reader is of age), cursing, smut- praise kink, use of strap-on, tell me if i missed something!

Word Count: 2k?

A/N: if anybody was wondering, this Agatha is a mix of episode 9 Agatha and Eve Fletcher because i’m a whore for Eve Fletcher. Also this is my first time writing a strap-on so pls let me know if i did it right :/ALSO THANK YOU FOR 50 60 FOLLOWERS!!!

“I want you to make me feel special, mommy.”

She stared at you with your large duffle bag at your feet, and you couldn’t decide whether her gaze was desperate or thankful. She wanted someone to take care of, and here you were, asking her to do just that.

“What made you make up your mind, darling?” She was struggling to not give into the temptation of dragging you inside and taking you on the steps right then and there.

“Jane called you a selfish bitch when she doesn’t even try to understand me and what I want. And what I want is somebody to take care of me, for once. I want somebody in charge of me. I want somebody on top of me. To help of me. To comfort me, to touch me... to lov-“

Agatha walked up to you and put a finger on your lips, putting a silence to your voice.

“I know, babygirl.” Agatha dragged her finger off of your mouth and brought her hand around to the back of your neck, pulling your lips ever so close to hers.

“I’m not going to make you feel special, honey. I’m going to remind you that you already are.”

And with that, her lips grazed yours, and finally met in a rage of lust and desire.

Agatha snaked her other hand around your waist and up your spine, somehow managing to pull you closer than before. When the strong kiss broke, you groaned, Agatha’s taste lingering on the tip of your tongue like an ingrained memory that you never wanted to forget.

The two of you shared heavy breaths, reminiscing in the other’s gaze.

“C’mon babygirl. Let’s get you inside.” She whispered, picking up the bag at your feet. She dragged you by the wrist, not giving you much time to take in the beauty of her home. You caught a glimpse of a grand kitchen and living space, but you were tripping up the stairs before you could register anything else.

“I will show you your room tomorrow.” She dropped your bag at the top of the steps. “Something else needs my immediate attention.” She continued to drag you along as she started down a hallway. She stopped at the last door and pulled you up against the wall next to it.

“Are you sure about this?” In all seriousness, she met your lustful eyes with her own.

“Fuck, yes.” You almost whined, but a shock of pain was sent through your body as she pressed you into the wall.

“Yes, what?... babygirl.” You groaned as the added pressure only turned you on. “Try that again for me.”

“Please fuck me, mommy.”

Agatha almost growled from hearing that, finally opening the door and pulling you in with her.

“Up.” She ran her hands down the back of your thighs and you jumped up to squeeze her hips, surprised to find out that there was no struggle to keep you up. She was strong.

Your arms wrapped around her neck as you pulled her into a deep kiss, and soon after, her own lips made contact with the skin just below your ear. She moved her playful bites around until you flinched, meaning she had found your sweet spot.

“Oh, god,” You grumbled, trying to pull her head in closer. You could feel her smirk against your growing bruises. It all felt so wrong, but so incredibly right.

She made her way over to the bed with you still on her hips, finally setting you down on the mattress just before your legs went numb. You watched as Agatha pulled her purple top off and did the same with your loose t-shirt. Your eyes stared at her chest, knowing you should meet her eyes, but incapable of finding the will to do so.

She groped at your breasts before sliding her hands to the top of your sweatpants, fingers dancing around the tie before finally pulling the string lose. Agatha noticed how you stared at her image as she pulled off your bottoms, leaving you only in a bra and panties.

“Now tonight is all about you, babygirl. You can touch whatever you like, moan how ever loud you want... ask anything of me...” She breathed. “It won’t always be like this, but tonight is all about you.”

You whimpered are her words. “But I want mommy to be proud of me. I want mommy to feel good too.”

“You want to lick this cunt?” Agatha asked as she pulled down her jeans, revealing her black lace panties. She now crawled on top of you, her face hovering over your own.

You nodded at her question.

“Use your words.”

“Yes please, mommy.” You whined as Agatha pressed her lips back onto yours.

“Undress me, then. I’m all yours tonight, babygirl.” She smirked, leaving you with another breathtaking kiss. You happily snaked your hands around her back, unclasping her bra and immediately attaching your lips to one of her nipples, beginning to twist and pinch the other with your hand.

Agatha groaned above you, and the slickness in-between your legs screamed. Your other hand slid to the top of her underwear, and when you moved your mouth to her other breast, you used both hands to slide the garment down her body.

She helped you the rest of the way, and finally moved to hover her dripping pussy above your face. You could feel the heat above you, and the taunting smell almost drove you insane.

you latched your hands onto her hips as you closed the distance between your mouth and her cunt, relishing in the moan that escaped her body when your tongue finally reached her aching core.

“Babygirl...” You dragged through her wetness, quickly flicking her clit before diving into Agatha’s center. Your hands reached up to hold her down and play with her breasts while you slowly explored her insides. “That feels so good.”

You smiled. I made my mommy feel like that. I make her happy.

You brought one of your hands down and replaced a finger for your tongue, sliding it in as your mouth paid attention to her clit. You began to pump and suck slowly, paying attention to how Agatha reacted to your every move.

“Mommy wants more.” You groaned at the request, sending Agatha even higher into heaven as your vibrations ripped through her pussy.

You picked up your speed and inserted another finger. You also tested out different things with your tongue, noticing how your pointed tongue made her squirm, your flat one made her head roll back, and your sucking made her do all the above and more.

“Mommy is gonna cum, babygirl. Let her cum.”

You hummed and put a little more pressure in all the right places, finally witnessing her come unraveled on top of you.

Agatha twitched as you helped her off of her high, cleaning up the mess that you left behind.

“You did so good, honey. Mommy is so proud.” You blushed as she sat back to kiss you, her leftover cum rubbing onto the base of your stomach. She tasted herself in your mouth and smirked.

“Is my baby ready to be rewarded?” Agatha taunted, carrying her light touch across your chest.

“Please, mommy.” You went to slip your bra off of your shoulders, but she stopped you.

“No, honey. Let me do that.” She reached under your arched back to unclasp the article, allowing it to thud onto the floor.

“Oh, baby, mommy is so excited to play with you,” Agatha spoke seductively while staring at your exposed chest, and if your cunt wasn’t begging for attention before, it sure as hell was now.

She reached her hands down to stroke your thighs, and you whimpered.

“Patience, darling.” She chuckled as she slid down further on you and started biting at your breasts. You moaned so loud, but you didn’t feel guilty about it whatsoever. One of Agatha’s long fingers danced over your covered core, and your hips bucked.

She laughed. “Alright honey, i’m done teasing.” You gave a breath of relief. She slid off the of the bed, pulling your panties along with her. She discarded the garment as she walked over to the nightstand, swaying her hips because she knew that you were watching.

“What are you doing?” She opened the bottom drawer to the piece of furniture. Without saying anything, she pulled out a large purple dildo, and you eyes widened.

“It’s ok, babygirl. we’ll take it nice and slow. I’ll even lube it up for you, although i’m sure you’re wet enough to take it dry.” You whined, knowing that she was probably right.

“Okay, mommy.” You follwed her movements as she strapped into the toy, picking up the lube and getting some on her hands. She climbed back on the bed and straddled your hips, making sure you had a good view.

She took her hands and began covering the dildo, and your insides turned as you watched her stroke and rub the lube all over.

“Are you ready for mommy’s cock, darling?” She smirked up at you.

“Yes mommy. Please.” You whined, begging her to fuck you senseless.

“Good girl.” She lifted your knees up to your chest, and you wrapped your arms around your shins to hold your legs in place.

Agatha ran one of her long fingers through your cunt, bringing it up to her mouth and moaning at the taste of you.

“You taste amazing, honey.” She said as she slowly slipped the toy inside of you, earning another whine out of your mouth. You sounded like a whore, but you didn’t care.

Once Agatha’s skin was flush with yours and the toy was as far in as it could go, she paused.

“Let mommy know when you’re ready to start.” Agatha reached down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, making you nod and lean into the touch. Once you felt comfortable, you replied.

“I’m ready for you to fuck me, mommy.” You nearly whispered in anticipation.

“Good girl,” She hummed, slowly pumping the dildo in and out of you. You watched as her breasts moved with her thrusts, feeling sensations that matched her movements perfectly.

Eventually, the need for more arose, and you started rocking in time with her pumps.

“Shh, baby,” Agatha held your body still. “Let mommy do the work.” You relished in the way that her hands ran their way up and around your torso and chest, soon enough finding their way to your clit as her speed increased.

The moan that you released made Agatha smile, as she started applying more pressure and sending the dildo deeper. You could hear your dripping pussy as she railed into you, your body bouncing with her sheer force.

“I think i’m gonna cum, mommy. Can I cum?” You whined, throwing your head back from the stimulation.

“Of course, babygirl.” Agatha stroked. “Soak my cock, honey, whenever your ready.” She met your gaze, and her glare is finally what pushed you over the edge. You silently screamed, arching your back as far as you could in that position and squeezing your thighs to your chest.

Instead of slowing down, though, Agatha pushed you into another orgasam, and but the time you had realized what she had done, you couldn’t process any information.

It took a moment for you to slow your breath, but when you finally did, you found Agatha staring at you with an expression that you couldn’t recognize yet.

“What?” You blushed, watching her slowly pull out of you and take the strap-on off. You twitched at one spot, and she gave you a soft smirk.

“Thank you.” You looked at her funny.

“What for?”

“Letting me take care of you.” She replied sincerely. You sheepishly smiled, catching the glint in her eyes.

“Anytime.” You said, repositioning yourself to sit up. You leaned in to give her a kiss, and you felt her smile against your lips.

“Alright, c’mon now baby. Let’s get you cleaned up and tucked in.” She grabbed your hand and helped you off of the mattress, holding onto your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the shower.

This was someone you could get used to.

#agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #marvel female reader insert #agatha harkness x fem!reader #marvel gxg

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alrightberries · 3 years

Text

our sorry little hearts

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader

❈ genre: angst. ❈ word count: 1.6k

❈ summary: Levi hasn’t seen your traitorous Eldian face in years.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. war. mentions of blood, death, and violence.

a/n: you’ve heard of enemies to lovers, now get ready for... lovers to enemies. this takes place during the liberio invasion aka S4 E6. based on a love like war by all time low.

(also don’t tell anyone but this is me lowkey warming up after not writing for so long)

There’s something oddly nostalgic about seeing you again on the battlefield.

Levi recognizes your usual battle stance; feet a shoulder’s width apart and hands tightly clutching the handles of your sheathed blades. You’re wearing the scouting regiment’s outdated white uniform, green cape hiding the leather straps your missing brown jacket usually would. He’s not surprised you’re not wearing your wings of freedom jacket, though; he was, after all, the one who sliced it in half during your escape with Zeke on the Cart Titan’s back. He hasn’t seen it, but he’s positive that a long scar runs down the length of your spine.

“Levi,” he hears you murmur, and he pretends that his heart doesn’t ache after hearing his name slip from your lips for the first time in four years. “I—... Levi,”

He feels his chest tighten. You still look as beautiful as he remembers you to be, and the fact that you still take his breath away is something he hates. It’s been a long while since he last stood on a battlefield with you. Only this time, there were no trees to swing from or titans to kill; no reassuring squeezes on the shoulder or cheeky kisses when no one was looking; no small smiles or stolen glances across the field as your horses galloped through Titan Country. No— this time, you wore different colors and fought on opposing sides.

“Levi, talk to me,” your tone is airy, said in what seemed to be a mixture of built up anticipation and disbelief. But there was something in your voice— something he couldn’t quite place. Was it relief? Longing, perhaps? Maybe even regret. But Levi pushes those thoughts aside in favor of gritting his teeth and giving his traitorous wife a stone cold stare. “Levi, talk to me, please.”

He refuses to reply. His hands are shaking from how hard he was gripping the handles of his blades, and he swears his heart was going to burst out of his untrimmed chest from how loudly it beat at his ribcage. There are about a million and one emotions swirling around his head— betrayal. anger. sadness. melancholy.

And he doesn’t know which one takes over him when he charges at you full speed.

There’s a grunt followed by the sound of metal clashing against metal, and Levi’s not surprised to see that your reflexes are still as sharp as they were before. His own cape whips in the wind when he turns to land another strike. But then he hears sound of your hooks digging into bricks, and he’s quick to take your little fight to the air in pursuit of you.

He knows he has to be at the plaza to save Eren’s ass but he also knows that he had at least seven minutes before he had to go. He’ll make this quick.

“Levi,” he hears you call out. You’ve led him further away from the plaza— maybe intentionally or unintentionally, he doesn’t know— and he’s only now realizing that you both stood on the side of a building, the hooks on your gears the only thing keeping you up. “My love—-”

“—don’t call me that,” his heart twitches and he sneers. It’s the first thing he’s said to you in years and god did you miss his voice, miss him in general. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that,”

“Levi,” you breathe, but the deep growl that escapes his lips is enough for your words to die in your throat.

“Stop,” he says. “You’ve lost the right to speak my name; you’ve lost the right to wear that cape,” his eyes land on the silver chain you wore around your neck, a gold ring hanging in the middle. It matched the one he had back home, the one he secretly held at night and kissed sorrowfully when he felt like breaking down. His voice is quieter, almost pained as he speaks, “you’ve lost the right to wear that ring. You’ve lost the right to even look me in the eye after what you’ve done.”

His words sting and your throat tightens when you once again remember the look of pure and utter betrayal in his eyes when you confessed you were a spy on behalf of the Marleyan government. The way he froze, hoping you were lying; yet the tears running down your cheeks and the apologies that slipped from your lips as you got down on your knees and begged him for forgiveness left no room for contest.

“Levi, we don’t have to fight, please just hear me out. I’m still the wife you loved—-“

“No,” he cuts you off. “My wife is gone. She died in the battle for Shiganshina.” your lip quivers, and he continues to speak. “You? You’re an enemy. You’re as good as dead to me.”

Your words once again die on your tongue when he charges at you, and you just barely manage to leap away. The edge of his blade scrapes against your thigh, and blood paints your trousers red when your feet land on the cobblestone streets.

Every attempt you make after, any attempts at conversation is silenced with a swift swing of Levi’s blades, almost as if he were seeking catharsis through violence.

You grit your teeth. “You’re never going to listen to me, are you?”

His silence and steely glare is all the answer you need, and you sigh. Your stance shifts, and the grip on your blades changes; you were finally taking an offensive stance, Levi notices. Blocking his blows wouldn’t be enough— you couldn’t reason with him no matter how hard you tried, and you couldn’t win with just defense. You had to outsmart him; you had to win. You had to.

“I’m sorry, levi, but losing isn’t an option for me. Not this time,” you murmur.

You didn’t want to fight him, he could see it in your eyes. But you were fighting for something, for someone more important than him. Your eyes— the first things he fell in love with, the ones that were usually fiery and full of life— are soulless, almost solemn when he sees you run at him full speed, and Levi pushes down the hurt he felt at the thought of you loving another as he charges at you too.

A tear silently falls down your cheek. You loved levi, but you loved him more. You were fighting for him, and he was waiting for you back at home.

There’s a grey little building in the Liberio Intermittent Zone, somewhere between the gates and the plaza. The gunshots and explosions just barely reach the drab building, and the smoke rising into the air is the only thing visible to the naked eye of the chaos unfolding at the plaza.

A Marleyan soldier, donned in white and war medals, stands in front of an open window. She’s got binoculars in her hands, and she peeks through the eye piece to watch as two figures fight. Their capes create shadows of black where they flutter, and their silver blades gleam in the moonlight.

She smirks. Your negotiation failed, just like she said it would, and now you had no choice but to fight to the death.

Good, she thinks, that Eldian scum’s doing her end of the bargain.

She leans back and a satisfied hum leaves her lips. She turns to look at the little boy, no more than four years old, sat on the bed. The red Eldian arm band clasped around his arm brings a grimace to the soldier’s face. She can’t believe she got stuck with babysitting some lowlife scum.

“Is mommy doing well?” he asks timidly. He doesn’t even know that you were out there about to murder a man, but the kid was smart; he at least knew your job carried a heavy weight.

“For now,” she replies. The boy’s jet black hair bounces slightly as he nods, and his slanted eyes are downcast, staring at the floor. His silvery grey orbs dare not make contact with hers.

The boy looked almost nothing like you— if anything, she was sure he looked to be the spitting image of his unknown father. Strong genes, the father must’ve had.

She finds amusement in how tense the boy was around her; at least his whore of a mother had the decency to teach the kid his place in the world. He was worse than an Eldian, the lowest of the low— he was half Paradis demon. He should’ve never been born. They should’ve beaten you to death along with your unborn child like she’d suggested when you came back from Paradis knocked up.

“You can kill me, but spare my baby, please.” she remembers you begging. “I didn’t even know i was pregnant. Not even the father knows.”

Still, maybe it was a good choice to keep both you and the demon child alive. As much as she hated to admit it, you were a skilled soldier— one of the best they’ve ever had. Threatening your life meant nothing to you, but threatening your child’s? All they had to do was suggest it, and you’d follow their commands like an obedient dog chasing after a dangling treat.

“When’s mommy going to come home?” the boy suddenly asks.

“Soon,” she replies, eyes once again gazing through her binoculars. “If your mother does her job well, she’ll be back soon.” There’s a telephone beside the soldier, ready to make the call should you ever stop fighting. A sniper awaits her signal.

“If she doesn’t... well,” she laughs. The door to the small room you called home is locked, and the loaded gun hidden in the soldier’s pocket is a weight she’s familiar with. “Do you believe in god?”

“No,” the boy shakes his head. “Who’s that?”

“Tell you what, kid. if your mother fucks this up, i’ll personally see to it that you meet him soon enough.”

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#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #levi imagine #levi ackerman imagine #shingeki no kyojin imagine #snk imagine #attack on titan imagine #aot imagine #writing

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hi! So I would like to request a Seb x reader one shot if you have the time ☺️ I just got diagnosed with Endometriosis today and am in need of some soft Seb... Could you write smth where Seb finds out that reader is always in pain during sex and never said anything, though he knows she has Endometriosis and usually cares for her during her period... and he then encourages her to get surgery to try and fix it? Only if it's okay though, I know it's very precise, sorry!

A/N; I am so sorry to hear about this hun, i hope there’s something that can be done, no one deserves to go through that kind of pain. I researched endometriosis and it certainly sounds horrible, I’m sending you all my love and support 💙

Endometriosis - Sebastian Stan x reader

Masterlist Link

Summary; based on the request, I changed it a tiny bit so I hope that’s okay, I just feel like if r was in pain seb would notice, I hope you like it hun 🤍

Warnings; endometriosis, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69ing, mentions of sex toys, illness, mention of alcohol, fluff, pain, swearing

divider by @firefly-graphics

It hurt like a bitch, there was no way to put it, or at least it was a simpler revelation of description at the prying of your womb had you near to tears. You laid your head down into the pillow, mushing it into the fabric, as you wanted the pain to dwindle down into nothing, and thus you tried to ignore your own suffering, as you turned over to be on your back, severely wincing by the change in position. A groan came from the other side of the bed, as the man that was laid there began to shuffle, in the midst of waking up.

“Morning.” He spoke with a hoarse voice, the steadiness obliterated by his blatant hangover that was haunting his form. Sebastian rubbed a hand over his eyes as he fully awoke, stretching his back as he reached his arm out, swiftly hooking it around the back of your neck as you allowed yourself to lay on the muscle. “Guess neither of us got laid, did we?” He laughed lightly, shaking his head, as he tipped his chin up, blinking his baby blues up to the ceiling.

“Considering that we’re in the same bed, and that you’re not a stranger to me, I guess not.” You laughed to your close friend, whom was aware of your condition, but not the extent of it. “Looks like you’re going to suffer from no morning sex Stan, I’m sure that sucks for you.”

“Usually it’s someone else doing the sucking.” You smacked his arm at his off handed comment, pulling a smirk out from the man as he turned to face you, pulling you closer by the contact that he had upon you. “I’m guessing your disappointed that you’re not waking up to some muscular, blonde haired and blue eyes patriotic punk.”

“If you’re describing Evans, i swear that I will punch you in the dick, I said he was attractive once.” You put emphasis on the amount of time(s) you had ever mentioned it. A pout quivered his lips, as he shuffled beneath the covers, angling his hips in a more comfortable position so that they weren’t being crunched down on the mattress.

“You can punch my dick, on the agreement that you kiss it better.” Seb allowed a hollow smirk to mull over his handsome features, as you swatted his bicep once more, an unhumored frown conforming its position upon your face.

“I’m not one of your hook ups, I’m not gonna get on my knees for you buddy.” You bantered back, raising a brow at his inquisition. No, you were not a past sexual partner of his; it was a constant of him never having a serious relationship, he opted for flings rather than any long engagements, you suspected that he had feelings for someone else, but you were not sure of whom.

The thought alone of him being endeared with the image of one woman brought a pain to your body, separate from your medical suffering. Though your opinion wasn’t fair, considering that you as well, or had your time of sleeping around before the pain in your inner walls became too much, and that was one of the many things that you had given up, more or less.

To support the montage of your body’s self torture, you had a mixture of hormone and tablets that helped reduce the unexplainable sensation that willed around in your lower half, swarming around like an internal snake bite in your own body.

“69 then?” He joked, but it felt so serious. You knew he wasn’t being truthful, it was the relationship the pair of you had, though his face had moved closer, his breath fanning over your face, making your heart prominently race as you thought about such a scenario. “Having mentioned Evans...” he began to change the conversation, having felt the heat that had radiated from your body.

“Go on.” You pried at him, interested in hearing what his friend had opted to say about the pair of you. It wasn't every day that you heard celebrities gossiping about you.

“He thinks we’ve hooked up.” Sebastian stated, making your neck reel slightly back as you took in the fact, of well, the perceived view point of a world renowned, household name, actor. A part of you was slightly embarrassed, you held your own cheek as the words that Chris had passed on sunk in on you.

“We, no, never. Okay, I’m exaggerating, that would not be so bad, but it would definitely be weird. But like, why does he think that, of all things?” You asked whilst partially laughing. It made you partially aware of yourself, and the prospect of you possibly having made your feelings obvious, but that however hadn’t been the case as Seb scratched over the stubble that he had on his chin, and did that awkward Bucky smile that had became humorous in his new marvel show.

“Of all things; it’s like you’re trying to break my heart babes.” With one diverging look from you, he knew he was done for. It always pained him to keep secrets from you, and this was the one that he had been hiding for so long. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? Okay, fine. I still can’t believe that you haven’t caught on, after all this time, but this just shows that you haven’t noticed how I try and scare away every guy with my money and power.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Lightly you scoffed, having many memories of such a situation. It was a pattern that kept repeating itself, but to you it had just become normal, and to say you were fine with it was not incorrect. It gave you hope that he could reciprocate the emotions that you held towards him, though having a wish like that was altogether hopeless. He was just protective, that was all, he probably saw you like a little sister, or something of the sort, that really put a drab annotation on the prospect of romance.

“Ever wonder why?” Ever, more like all the time, but you allowed him to continue without disruption, by doing so more would be unveiled by that mouth of his, and you were eager to learn more, yet a little hesitant. “It is because I am so tired of being your friend, I love it, don’t get me wrong but...” you were dreading what was to come out of his mouth next, you squeezed your eyes shut, almost as if you were unable to see, the pain would not render upon your specimen. “I love you.”

“You what?!” Eyes snapping open, you were blatantly shocked by his confession. “That can’t be right Seb, you’re you, and I’m me, and-“

“We’re us.” He finished for you. As he noticed you relax from his contingence, which allowed him the time gap to slide closer, his warm and soft hand running up the side of your face as he watched you gasp from the sensation. It was not the first time he had touched your cheek, but it was the first instance in which he done so intimately; you were rather fond of the treatment.

You nuzzled your face into the curve of his hand, your brows lightly directed in a downwards motion as you lulled in his touch, and that was when you realised that he had frozen. “Shit.” You stopped him from moving away, pausing the sadness in his eyes for the current second. “I should have responded, that was my bad. I love you too, I’m not just saying that, so you know.”

“That’s a relief.” Sebastian sighed, falling back onto the mattress, bringing his face accidentally closer to your own. The tips of your noses were touching as your eyes ogled deep within the pools of one another’s, it was impossible not to seek a closer vicinity, and thus, you slunk closer, bracing the tips of your nails against his scruff, as your lips worked their way onto his.

“How would you like another kind of relief?” You pulled away, stroking down the smooth course of his shirt covered chest, prompting a suggestive dialogue in your tone. His brow raised as he thought about it for a moment, but then he remembered a rather distinctive matter he didn’t want to cause any obstruction to.

“What about your, you know?” He was referring to your endometriosis, having the knowledge about the unfortunate illness that interfered with your life. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the encouraging you to take your medication on days that you weren’t feeling particularly well, he was there. Now it made sense why.

To reply, you softly shook your head, combing your hands over his shoulders, as you answered him. “If it gets too much, I’ll give you the signal.” You spoke, leaning down to peck his lips, though you still saw the reluctance that was embedded on his forehead in the form of strict lines. “I promise.” You persuaded him, meaning the sentiment, as his eyes trailed down, his hand scourging a fierce, passionate grip upon your hipbone as his tongue weaved its way back into your mouth.

You moaned into the atmosphere of his mouth, grabbing onto his cheeks as you heaved breaths into the internal beyond of this man, rolling on top of him, as you swept your crotch down against his own, extracting a sinister sound out of his guttural throat. It was only turning you on more, and you knew that if you didn’t do something, even despite the recommendations of your doctor, you would be sufficed with a lack of pleasure, and that was all you currently craved.

It wasn’t fair how you had been dubbed with the condition. So many people in the world could have sex whenever they pleased, yet you were forced to commend under the sentence of experiencing a discomfort when all you wanted was the comfort of being intwined with another human being. That connection, it felt mandatory, however you were denied it, for every time that you proceeded to bed a stranger, or a partner of any sorts, the stretch of anything in your walls pursued you with a fracture of pain.

You’d even had to throw out your vibrator, whilst it felt good on the outside, the clenching of your empty walls sparked physical and mental hurt, and reminded you of the fact that whenever you were filled by any length, your body could not function to emit pleasure, instead it was the opposite that you were tasked with contracting. The thought and reminder often spewed tears in your eyes, but you held them back as you got lost in Sebastian.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admitted sentimentally, and your heart both became full and broken. It was sweet and scorching to the arousal between your legs to know that he was that concerned about your well being; he wasn’t just prioritising getting his dick wet. He resumed pressing succulent kisses on your lips, he lulled in the notion, he too wanted to be close to you, but he wasn’t willing to do inadvertently so to the expense of you being in pain.

That was the opposite of what he wanted, even as your hand wandered down his firm and pheromone driven body, that bucked in your grip, as your hand hooked around his bulge, your thumb stroking over his round sack as he grew beneath the layers of his soft sweats and underwear. “69 then?” You reiterated his earlier words, causing his pupils to blow wide, and his blue irises to darken into the juxtaposition of stormy skies.

“Will that be okay?” You confirmed it was, even if you weren’t completely sure yourself. The angles, the penetration, it was all elements, that combined gave you an equation that you had yet to figure out. The only way to do so was to try it, even if it concluded in an error, and not a sensible answer. To instigate the next step, you roused your sleep shirt from your body, leaving you in nothing more than your causal panties, but Seb didn’t seem to mind.

In fact he rather preferred the normalcy of your actions and undress, it made the strategy of shifting from friends to intimate lovers into one of relaxation, there was no absurdity nor discomfort yet, for either one of you. Your fingers dipped in the sides of your underwear, teasing the band, as you cocked your head towards Seb, licking your lips as you took in the view of him entranced by your being. “Am I going to be the one naked or...”

You were grateful that he took the hint, and stripped himself from both layers that kept his goods confined. He rapidly removed them, leaving his uncut cock open to your gaze; it wasn’t anything massive which was a relief, but it for now, it was to be attained in the confinement of your mouth, rather than the realm of your cunt, so that slight stretch could await. As you thought of that, you reached your hand out, dancing your fingers lightly over his shaft.

Seb emitted a soft huff from his obtainable lips, he dragged you to be laying atop of him, as your thighs surrounded his length on either side, it was warm, and rested perfectly below your where your cunt was hovering. How you wished to just sink down on it and- “Turn around.” For a moment you took time to refrain your memory to perceive what you had said before. And then, whence your words caught up to you, it was simple to do so, especially with the motivation of what was going to happen.

As you spun around, to be facing his lower half and have your own above his mouth, you watched his cock twitch, as it rested heavily upon his abdomen. You could feel your nerves kick in; it was a substantial difference from anything that you had ever done together, from looking at the stars and watching cheesy movies, to sexual actions, it was quite the leap. But a welcome one, you had waited so long to acknowledge your feelings to him, you'd be damned if you were not going to act on them.

A shiver rippled up your spine as he paved a lick through your slit, it made you tense up for a moment, and you try to register any diagnosis of pain, you coiled when he put one of your lips in his mouth. It felt good, which was a relief, and you took that as a sign to reap your front forwards, and focus on his throbbing hardness that was oozing precum against his perfect skin. The drop of essence looked like liquid moonstone, catching the ambience of the snooping sun that eyes through the crescent opening of the closed curtains, creating a luminescent light against the contrast of his skin.

Leaning forwards, as the initial shock of Seb using his tongue on you had settled in, as a faint plea from inside of you derived away in your eternal being, your tongue glided over the patch of fallen precum, your eyes fluttering at the heavenly, yet rare taste, it wasn’t every day that a man’s cum was relatively nice on your buds. Some perceived eating junk food as a lifestyle, caring not for how the receiver of their sperm would taste within the mouth of a giver on the other end. Sebastian hummed against your slick folds, as he danced his hands around your ass, grasping your cheeks firmly.

His fingers swept through the outside of your cunt, fooling around with your labia as his tongue swirled your bud, making your face grimace on the edge of pleasure, as your warm lips wrapped around the head of his cock, whirling your tongue within his slit, as your hand rested around the rest of his length, jerking it in your grasp, as his hips lightly heaved upwards against your face. He teased a finger around your entrance, running the tip along the wet flesh that mimicked your breaths as it clenched prosperously.

“Shit!” Tears webbed in your eyes as he entered the finger, though he considered that a resonating profanity of pleasure. To your dismay, it indeed was not though, the entry of the digit weighed heavy inside you, prying sorely against your walls as your giving to him paused, as you harshly gripped his thigh. “Shit, that hurts Seb. Fuck!” In an instant, he stopped, extracting his finger out from within you, as it caused you further pain, and helped you turn around, and lay languidly upon the bed.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m so sorry y/n/n.” He panicked, immense guilt wavering his body, as he grasped your face, staring with sorrow into your seasoned expression. “I didn’t mean to- didn’t want to hurt you, shit, I should never have tried to-“ soothing his conflicting emotions, you stroked his shoulders, kissing him to ease his words into silence. He felt guilty, but so did you, you were the one whom had encouraged to pursue the rhythm of your shared sexuality to one another, deducting the poise of your actions with tear beaded eyes.

“It was my fault; I said it would be fine. I should have known it shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.” You reasoned with him, knowing that you had told him that it was to be something that you could manage, but from experience, you should have had better knowledge of how things would turn out.

“Don’t you ever apologise, you’re perfect, the only thing that I want to ease is your suffering. Is there any news on the operation that can be done, should I get you your medication now?” He wanted to be certain, to ensure that you didn’t put the accountability of your situation completely on yourself, he should have asked if a finger would have been fine, he shouldn’t have been swayed by your persuasion. “I could talk to someone, see if I could get the thing moved up, I can pay for it, get you further up on the ladder.”

“No.” You smiled, pressing an ample kiss upon his scruffy cheek. “I don’t want that, many other people are waiting for the op too, and I can’t have you paying for it. That would just be inconsiderate of me, you have already done so much for me, I can’t ask more. You’ve been there through everything, just wait with me whilst I wait for myself.” You pulled the sheets over your breasts, staring opulently into his serene eyes, shuddering as he swept his lips over your mouth once more, deriving you breathless for a moment.

“It’s okay to be selfish, if any of them had that chance, then they would take it. I can afford it, and I would want nothing more than to pay for it, it’s not just about sex, you know that. I love you so so much, you’re my best friend, the girl of my dreams, I’ve waited for you, I just want the pain that you live through to disappear. Out of all people, it’s not fair that it’s you, but it is, and this is the one way to fix the reductive searing of hurt that you live through.” You gulped, water glazing your irises as you stared at her, trying to diffuse your light sob.

His words brought acceptance to you within the scenario, as you took a deep breath in, confronting the trigger that had set off inside of you. It was difficult to handle and attain to, as you curled in his bare arms, exasperating your soundness close to him, as he competently cupped your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Okay.” You agreed, nodding sincerely along with your words. “Okay, I’ll do it for me. It’s the right thing to do.” A smile raved his face, as you convinced yourself of doing so. It was to be a long road, but Sebastian would be there holding your hand, travelling down this path alongside you.

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