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yuri-is-online · 1 month

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Hi Yuri! Have you ever considered the idea of there being an alternate version of the twst boys in Yuu’s world? Since we have no clue if it’s just another planet or an entirely separate universe, it’s theoretically possible. Poor Yuu would think they are going crazy seeing a familiar face or hearing a familiar voice in another world. Perhaps it is even painful to the point Yuu tries to avoid interacting with the boy in question. - 🦐

(Also, I am well aware of how often I’ve been sharing these thoughts. If they’re annoying you or you don’t feel up to it, I don’t want you to feel pressured to respond or anything. I’m just spitballing and posting before I forget. 👉👈)

OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON THIS!!!!! (first and foremost being that you are very much not annoying <3)

An alt version of a twst boy in Yuu's world is just so yummy. There's so much angst potential depending on what the relationship is/was. Did their boy die in some horrible accident? Is he waiting for them, anxious and terrified about where Yuu went? Does this imply that twst also has a version of Yuu somewhere out there in the world? Questions questions. I did sort of write about this idea in the tags of this yan version of the soulbound au, wherein a cursed Yuu driven insane by their curse kills their soulmate before being isekaid to Twisted Wonderland and finding a different version of him, horrified with the realization that they could kill him again... but I want to cook up some dynamics for what the dorm leaders/overblot boys could be up to in Yuu's world first sooo...

I had a hard time thinking about Riddle until I remembered he's a horse girl and cast Yuu in the role of bad boy ranch hand whose dad's got a job at the barn so they're forced to help take care of the horses and warn all the would be YA protags about the "special horse" who doesn't take orders from just anyone. Not that Riddle is the protagonist... he's more the well established rich petty bitch who looks down on the new girls and especially on you because you're never taking care of his horse in accordance with all his stupid rules. And in stereotypical horse movie fashion Riddle has a massive not so secret crush on bad boy ranch hand Yuu who just doesn't get why he keeps trying to talk to them.

There isn't much royalty left in the world, but imagine Leona as the son of some rich business magnate whose older brother got the company and left him with "nothing." Maybe Yuu works at a liquor store part time and Leona comes in to pick stuff up every once in a while. You wouldn't call him a friend, but you guys shoot the shit enough that you have a general feel for each other to the point he joins you on your breaks to keep up the talk and play chess.

I love the idea of student president council Azul. He's made for that trope. Born for it, he'd be such a terror with Jade as his VP and Floyd as well. Floyd. I can't see him really being a part of the student council but I had this idea the other day based off this instagram post I saw about this mom who sews right? Her daughter was running for class president and she made these bracelets with little shrimp on them and attached them to cards that said "Keep it shrimple! Vote for (kid's name)!" And I was struck with this vision of Yuu doing that so like. Yuu running against Azul with that campaign slogan and he's tearing his hair out over it being so popular because people like memes (the original idea had Floyd running as Yuu's vp but they both dropped out at the last minute because neither him or Yuu wanted to do the actual work lol.) I also like student council president Azul and delinquent Yuu... but that's because of Tsuredure Children ha

Kalim and Jamil are hard... but I think the same set up of rich businessman's kid and his bodyguard in training still fits. How Yuu meets them is beyond me, but if you were friends with either of them could you imagine how painful seeing the same tragedy play out in this new world would be? Jamil doomed to always be a servant and Kalim doomed to be betrayed by his best friend... that would be so painful for someone who cared deeply about either of them I could see it motivating Yuu to try and resolve things for twst Jamil and Kalim that much harder.

Ok so hear me out... Vil still wants to be an actor in your world but he doesn't have the connections to his dad and is working as a pharm tech with Yuu at your local drugstore while going to school and hunting for gigs. He mentions being interested in cosmetics and magical pharmacology in game... and he also mentions knowing nothing about his mom so like. Your world Vil ended up with his mom instead of his dad and you get to see him on the cusp of his big break as one of his number one supporters from the very start, only to get isekaid to a world where you get to see what things could have looked like. It's strange how similar and yet not both versions of Vil are...

Idia is the guy who comes in to buy snacks at your convenience store during the night shift who you start talking to when you notice him buying a game time card for something you also play. You're stupid awkward around each other at first, but it's nice to finally have someone to talk about your niche interest with once you've passed each other's sniff tests. You don't actually know him know him though... so getting sent to another world where there's another version of him makes you worried the more you learn about his backstory that maybe you should have been there for your Idia more. Is he doing ok back home? Did he think of you as a friend? You hope he isn't blaming himself for any of this...

Malleus is an old money trust fund baby whose family was absolutely royalty at some point and is still overly attached to it. He likes old buildings, cemeteries, long walks in the fog, you know all those good goth things. He's tall and socially awkward and so grateful for you, his first and best friend who he met one moonlight night he swore was a dream in his favorite abandoned building who spoke at length with him about all sorts of things he liked. So you know. More or less the same. Just without the world ending powers... I think this is another one that would be quite sad. Which version of Malleus needs Yuu more? Which one is the real one? I'd hate the idea of him being destined to always be lonely and lose the ones he loves.

As for Yuu avoiding them... I could see that. It would feel weird seeing someone you love so much only for it not to be them at all. I know that the Lovebrush Chronicles kiiiiind of deals with this??? I wish I had the patience to play through it has an appealing glasses wearing ro but it's a mobile otome :/ but still. It's a concept I promise I am totally normal about.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #<3 asks #shrimp annon #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus x reader

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starferret · 27 days

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Super Mario x Epic Mickey au

I LOVE COMBINING MY INTERESTS!! I’ve been cooking up this au for like the past month with @jell-o101

Screenshot redraw of a cutscene from the second game because I wanted to try replicating the art style

REFERENCES!!! Mario is Mickey, Luigi is Oswald, Toadsworth is Gus, Dimentio is the Mad Doctor, Daisy is Ortensia, and Toadette is Prescott. Others not shown here is Bowser as the Blot, Wario is Pete, Pauline is Animatronic Daisy, DK is Animatronic Donald, and E Gadd is Yen Sid.

Spent the past couple weeks cooking up this comic based on a certain cutscene from the game >:)

And now for various sketches :3

#super mario #epic mickey #mario #luigi #toadsworth #dimentio #toadette #princess daisy #my art

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azsazz · 1 year

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Bloody Hearts

Azriel x Cassian x Rhysand x Reader

Summary: A modern mafia AU.

Warnings: Blood, injury, guns, depictions of graphic violence. Ik this isn’t how hospitals work but just pretend for the storyline that it is.

Word Count: 3,306

Notes: I want to thank each and every single one of you for your continued support. I love writing for you all and seeing your excitement and interactions are incredibly honoring. Here’s to you, 3k, and the many more to come! 💙

Special shout out to @sarcasmsweetie for planting the mafia seed in my head, I hope you enjoy! 💙

_________________________________________

The night sky is full of stars, but no moon.

It’s an evening like most in late September, the breeze blowing softly up the darkening streets, caressing everything in its wake. This just so happens to include Rhysand, who shivers as the gust tickles the dark hairs at the base of his neck.

He checks over his shoulder before pulling his coat tighter around himself, a hand pressed firmly over the fresh wound on his stomach.

He’d been caught, narrowly escaping a gang of rivals who had ambushed him at a meeting with a potential customer. A bullet shot to his side was a gift and a warning, and he can feel it still lodged in the taut muscle of his abdomen, fresh blood oozing between his fingers.

Rhys had lost his gun and phone during the attack, managing to intercept one of the escapees and rid them of their life and weapon, one that’s clutched tightly in his other hand, tucked just inside the flap of his overcoat.

“Fucking asshole,” he spits through gritted teeth, jaw clenched to try and stop them from chattering. He’s cold, can barely feel his finger on the trigger of the cool metal of the gun, can definitely feel the warm, thick blood seeping from his stinging wound.

His breathing is labored and he stumbles every once in a while, his vision blurring. He curses. He hasn’t been able to find a pay phone and the streets in this part of town are abnormally quiet tonight.

He’s waiting for someone to jump him.

Rhys blinks hard, once, twitch, three times to clear his sight as he continues his quick pace towards the hospital up the street.

He’s been through worse before.

Squinting against the fluorescent lights as the doors slide open for him, Rhys tucks the weapon into the waistband of his pants. It hurts to do so, and he grunts as he makes his way up to the counter, straightening his posture as much as his body allows without putting any more strain on his injury. He needs to act as normal as possible so he doesn’t get asked too many questions.

There’s a woman on the other side of the glass, head buried in the computer screen before her. He can make out the lines of age on her face in the glow from the monitor, and she doesn’t even look up at him when she speaks.

“How can I help you?”

“I’ve seemed to have cut myself while cooking,” he lies expertly, but he doesn’t think she’d even care if he told the truth.

She gathers his information – most of it lies to keep his identity a secret – and prints the hospital bracelet, standing from her chair onto her aching feet as she shoves the large glasses perched low on her nose up into her disheveled hair to wrap the plastic band around his wrist.

Rhys has made sure not to show her his bloody hand.

“Have a seat and someone will be out shortly,” she tells him, collapsing back into her chair with a lethargic breath, slamming the space key to start her show back up.

He rolls his eyes, moving away from the counter, hand still pressed firmly to his side.

He chooses to slump against the wall instead, as far away from the few other people in the waiting room as he can get, knowing that if he were to sit down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs he would probably let the darkness that’s been vignetting his vision for the past half mile lull him to sleep.

It takes longer than he would like to be called into the emergency room. Rhys leans his head against the wall, releasing a shaky exhale as he watches the steady drops of blood falling from his hand and onto the linoleum tile beneath his feet with a soft patter. No one notices, and he doesn’t say anything when someone’s finally calling his name.

He lifts his head as he follows the nurse leading him back and he catches sight of you.

His heart stumbles at your beauty. You’re in the midst of a game of chess with a coworker, head propped on your curled fist as you assess the board, trying to figure out your next move. Your face is scrunched in the cutest way, silently taking count of your black pawns, deciding which one you can sacrifice.

Naturally, because he’s not paying attention he trips. He tries to catch himself on the countertop but your game is in the way and his bloody hand slams down onto the checkerboard, blood splattering in its wake as the board goes sliding and the pieces go tumbling onto the floor.

“Sorry,” he grunts, his side slamming into the cheap countertop because he’d been unable to catch himself. It hurts like a bitch but he bites his lip as harshly as he can, avoiding eye contact with you and your friend who have shot to your feet in shock.

“No,” you exclaim, raising your hands. Your feet are rooted to the ground as you stare over at him, slightly rattled from the incident. “Are you okay? Maybe we should get you a wheelchair–”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you, really,” His voice is gravelly, and he stuffs his bloodied hand into his pocket, forcing you to look from that mess to his face. It’s squished in pain, dark brows furrowed, luscious lips pressed into a firm line, but when he looks up at you the whole world stops.

His eyes are like a dream and you can’t stop yourself from falling into their rich purples and dark speckles like stars. Long lashes frame the rounds of his eyes, looking like they’re each dipped in coal liner but you know that he’s just effortlessly pretty.

Rhysand opens his mouth to say something but the nurse leading him back to his room places a gentle hand on his bicep. He flinches at the contact, gaze snapping to the woman before him.

“Sir, maybe we should get you to a room so that you can sit down.”

He’s sure he’s delirious now, after the way you looked at him. A face of confusion that had melted into one of awe when your crystalline eyes met his. His heart throbs in his chest and he can feel the fresh wave of blood seeping through the silk of his torn shirt as he allows the nurse to guide him forward.

He’s led to a private room where the nurse retrieves a fresh gown and places it on the bed.

“You’ll need to take off your clothing and put this on,” she instructs, reading over his chart. Her gaze flicks to where his bloody hand is once again putting pressure on the wound in his side, then meets his own, sizing him up.

“Some cut that must be,” she comments, watching him for any sort of give.

He’s been playing people for far longer than she could even know.

Rhys tries to muster that cocky smirk that seems to work on most women, but it must look more like a grimace because she seems unaffected. “Yeah, the knife got away from me when I was carving the meat,” he replies coolly, though the effort to stay standing is making him sweat.

She stares at him for a long moment before relenting. The nurse points at the gown on the bed with her pen, “Gown, now. You’ll be helped shortly.”

“Thank you very much,” Rhys tries not to snear and he swears he can hear the grating roll of her eyes as she draws the curtain shut upon her exit.

He sighs, shoving the gown away as he collapses on the corner of the bed, hissing at the twist of his wound. The bullet hasn’t hit any organs, he knows that, and he’s only a little nervous about the amount of blood he’s lost, but he can’t stop thinking about the pretty chess-playing nurse in the other room.

He needs to get in contact with his team, set bounties on their heads for the assassination attempt.

Or he can just sick his Cassian on them.

He knows he’s going to get lectured by Azriel for being out there alone, but the both of them had deserved the night off, away from the sharp gazes of those mutts in the Canus gang. Their rivals for generations, Rhys had never known a day of peace while they’d been around.

They’d been at war with the Canus mob for as long as he knew. Rhys had been taught about it some when he was younger, when his father had the time to sit him down for the sort of talks other seven year olds weren’t receiving. Instead of talking about what he did at school or what he wanted for his birthday he was taught of the long-lasting drug war he was going to reign over some day and gifted weapons instead.

And that fateful power had been thrust upon him sooner than he anticipated, when his mother and sister were captured and killed by the infamous Oleanders, a rival crew that had not been short on land nor wealth. His father was a man of business, and no one said no to him, but they had. So his father took what he wanted instead and because of that, his mother and sister had suffered because of it.

Rhysand blinks harshly, trying to shove the memory from his mind and the black spots from his vision. He’d been the one to ask his father to join in on the revenge, using their best allies and assets to sneak into the penthouse the Oleanders occupied, slaughtering them, one by one, until only the youngest son, Tamlin, was left to take over the family business.

His fingers dig into his wound and he holds back a pained cry at the searing pain burning through him. It works though, flushing the memories from his mind while he waits for help.

.·:·.☽ ✦ ☾.·:·. ♜♞♝♛♚♝♞♜ .·:·.☽ ✦ ☾.·:·.

“(Y/N),” room three,” your coworker nearly growls, slamming his patient papers down on the counter in front of you. They would’ve landed in the patient's blood had you not hastily cleaned it up, tossing the bloodied board into the biohazard tin.

You hadn’t been able to find one of the pieces in your hurried cleaning. Maybe your chess partner, Vern, had picked it up and thrown it away or it had rolled under the counter to be found later by a janitor. You had no time to fret over it as you stare at her in shock.

“Isn’t he your patient, Amren?”

She brushes her cropped hair behind an ear, glaring. “I don’t like him.”

“Well what makes you think I want him then?” you ask, but are peeling the papers from the damp counter anyways.

Amren doesn’t respond, slumping down in the seat you’d stood from when the mysterious, injured man had stumbled into the counter.

You sigh, making your way towards room number three.

You can’t help yourself, looking through his papers. There’s quite a bit of information left blank or redacted, like he hadn’t been willing to answer any of the necessary questions in order to treat. His name is Rhysand, last name redacted. Age, redacted. Occupation, blank. Eye color, redacted. Height, a surprising six foot two.

“Hello again,” you greet, brushing through the thin curtain separating his room from the rest of the hospital area. “I’m (Y/N).”

He’s laying back fully now, closed eyes opening to latch onto you as you make your way straight towards the sink, placing his papers down before washing your hands.

“Rhysand,” he offers, his breath rattling in his chest.

“So I’ve read,” you toss him a soft smile over your shoulder, wiping your hands off on a paper towel, walking around the side of the bed to perch in the chair beside it.

Rhysand’s cheeks redden despite the blood loss he encountered tonight. You’re attractive, looking everything like an angel came to save him. The black scrubs you’re wearing don’t do your body justice but that’s okay, he can imagine how you look beneath your clothes just fine in his delirium.

“So,” you roll your chair closer, noting the bloody hand pressed to his side, “What brings you in tonight?”

“I uh–” he hisses, slowly peeling his hand away, exposing the wound. “I cut myself while cooking.”

“Some cut,” you murmur, starting straight into the gaping hole in his side, “What kind of knife were you using? A nine millimeter?”

He lets out a surprising laugh, groaning when it jostles his wound.

“Glock,” he admits disgustedly, before he realizes what he’s just admitted.

He tries to sit up, panicking. He instantly regrets it when the pain rips through his side once more. He bites his lip, holding in the whimper of pain he so desperately wants to release. You’re there, pressing him back down to the bed with your hands on his shoulders, shushing him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” you send him a wink that makes something in his chest flutter, “Let me take a look at it.”

Rhysand settles but his heart doesn’t, watching you as you slip on a pair of rubber gloves before slowly lifting up his shirt to examine his injury.

You try not to let your gaze linger on the tightly corded muscle of his stomach and focus solely on the wound.

It’s an injury you haven’t worked with before, since your time at the hospital. You can’t compare it to the ones you’ve seen, the woman who’d come in with the top of her finger cut off, just below the first knuckle. She’d shoved the remaining bit into your arms in hysterics, shouting at you to help her. Thankfully, she had managed to put it on ice before rushing over to the hospital, which was nice.

Then there was the child who had broken his leg in such a way that the bone had ripped through the muscle and tissue and you could see it clear as day. That one was awful. The child wouldn’t stop screaming and crying and he’d almost gone into shock with how terrified he was to see his own bone sticking out of his leg like that.

That one had been a little harder for you to sleep off.

You have to admit, you’re a little intrigued. As much as you don’t like seeing people in pain, it’s interesting to see the extent of injuries people come into the hospital with, and sometimes it was amusing to know the stories behind them.

Looking from the wound to Rhysand’s face, your breath catches in your throat. You hadn’t realized how far you’d leaned in to examine his side, and you’re blushing and quickly turning away, busying yourself by opening one of the drawers, searching for supplies that you know aren’t in there.

You find the scissors on the tray Amren had left out, turning back to your handsome patient.

“Do you think you can take your shirt off or do you need me to cut it off of you?” you ask, holding up the scissors and snipping at the air.

You can cut me out of my shirt anytime that you please, Rhysand thinks, biting back a smirk.

“I can do it,” he manages, because he’ll need to put it back on once he leaves. He wouldn’t be caught dead out in the street with a hospital gown on. He lifts the hem of his shirt, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling when he peels the wet clothing that’s stuck to his body off. He hisses when he accidentally tugs on the wound while maneuvering his shirt over his shoulders and head.

He should’ve let you cut it off after all.

Rhys relaxes the best that he can, leaning back slightly on his hands so you can come in for a closer look. He holds his breath as you examine his torso.

“Well, it doesn’t look like it’s hit anything important,” you explain. It’s still trickling blood but doesn’t nearly look as bad as you thought. “Is there an exit wound?”

You shift to look at his back but he’s letting himself fall back to the bed, heart thumping. The gun tucked into the waistband of his pressed pants digs into his spine.

“No exit wound,” he rushes to respond.

You furrow your brows at the confusing reaction but let it slide, “Right.”

You rise to your feet, pulling off your gloves.

“Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

Rhysand nods, watching you with eagle eyes until you leave.

He relaxes once he’s alone, releasing a shaky breath, slamming his eyes shut tight. He curses himself for being so careless. He needs to get this bullet out and get out of here.

“Call the doctor, gunshot wound, room three. Why didn’t the front desk get him back here sooner?” you call over your shoulder as you pass your coworkers, though you know the exact reason why.

“Maybe it was because he said he cut himself,” Amren supplies, confirming what you already know.

You roll your eyes as Vern gasps, immediately asking her what is going on with the pretty patient in room three.

“The doctor is on his way,” you announce when you enter room three once more, setting the tools that are wrapped up in their respective packaging onto a portable table next to Rhysand’s bed. “Need anything while you’re waiting?”

“A glass of water would be great,” Rhys answers, eyeing the tools he’s seen plenty of times before.

“I’ll be right back. The doctor should be here any second.”

You can feel his colorful eyes on you as you dip behind the curtain once more, walking towards the nurses area. You grab a little pitcher and fill it to the brim with ice and water, picking up a few plastic cups to bring back to the room with you.

You exit the nurses nook just as Amren is walking by and you trip, spilling the water on the floor. You curse, apologizing to the tiny nurse who’s grumbling about having to deal with a code gray, but knowing her, the patient is no match for the little nurse.

You exhale, irritated as you clean up the mess as quickly as you can. You just want to get back to the man in room three. Maybe you’ll even get a smile out of him for bringing the water.

You replace the old pitcher with a new one, disposing of the crushed plastic cups. You tap your foot impatiently on the ground as the water slowly fills the tiny jug. Carefully this time, you make sure no one is in your way before heading back to Rhysand’s room.

There’s still no sign of the doctor in the halls and you roll your eyes. Rhysand’s lost who knows how much blood for Mother’s sake and the doctor can’t even be arsed to hurry up a little.

That is the most frustrating part of your job.

“Here’s your water–” you stop in your tracks when you catch sight of the empty bed.

You furrow your brows, backtracking a step to make sure you’re in the correct room. Yup. Three. The bed is still a bloody mess, but Rhysand is nowhere to be seen.

You place the water pitcher and cups down on the counter and that’s when you notice the bloody tools on the mobile cart you’d prepared for the doctor.

The tongs and tweezers to get the bullet out are no longer clean and sitting in the small metal bowl where the rest of the tools are laid is a tiny bullet covered in Rhysand’s blood.

#azriel x cassian x rhysand x reader #poly!batboys x reader #acotar modern au #acotar mafia au #azriel/cassian/rhysand/reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #bloody hearts #azsazz

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circadianaa · 11 months

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clones with wings au!

something i’ve been cooking in my brain for MONTHS but have only just now gotten down on paper. let’s go!

starting off:

the plain wings. in this specific au, the clones are from a species that have wings as opposed to a general everyone-has-wings au! the clones all have identical wings (aside from the rare mutation), which are basically bird wings with some minor changes. for one, they have opposable thumbs (can you really call it a thumb ??) at the end of the radius and ulna (lower arm bones) quite like bats! but i gave them two thumbs on each wing. for some reason. here’s what the wing skeleton looks like:

clones have very plain-looking wings, but they use them as blank canvases. since the undersides are so pale, they’re perfect for custom dye jobs.

there’s a structured system and language when it comes to wing dye jobs. the wing is broken up into four sections, where each section has a different meaning. the first (and often the first dye received as well) is the rank, at the outermost edge of the wing. this is the most structured out of all the sections; unlike the others, zero creativity for presentation is allowed. as clones aren’t technically supposed to dye their wings, it’s not written in any regulations anywhere, but it’s widely understood to be SOP.

ranks are broken into 2 tiers of silver and gold. gold denotes command staff ranks and silver are the remaining vast majority of troopers. the only ranks with 2 different commonly seen variations are lieutenants, to distinguish CMOs from platoon lieutenants, and privates, as though all shinies hold the rank of private they don’t earn wing dye until after their first battle (just like armor paint!)

the second section is rarely used—generally only by medics or other specialists. it is at the bottommost part of the wing. red stripes (or other patterns) denote that a clone is a medic. it’s a practicality thing more than it’s an aesthetic thing, same as the recognizable sigils medics paint on their armor.

the third is the most eye-catching and the most custom—no two clones have them alike! this is the personal design section, at the very center of the wing. the color of the markings here signifies the battalion a clone is in; however, this section is not meant to mark allegiance, it’s meant to mark personal history, and if a clone has ever transferred battalions, they keep the colors of their old battalion as well as including the colors of their new one. this design evolves as a clone does, often getting more intricate as they age. some clones always prefer simpler designs, though (captain rex being one!), and choose to retain the plainer colors of their youth.

the fourth is a subsection of the personal history section, marking the batchmates who have passed on. these stripes, almost always golden, are located at the part of the wing closest to the body, on the long feathers at the base of the wing. some clones have zero markings here, some have four (or more, if a sibling they felt as close to as a batchmate is lost). it’s kept as a way to honor and remember the dead. this is the only marking that’s dyed on the top of the wing as well as the underside.

here are some more examples of designs for some clones!

(that last one there is my oc, cadaver!)

some other general lore:

medics are generally the only ones capable of carrying others in flight because it’s something they specifically train for. carrying another trooper while flying is incredibly strenuous, but medics need to do so in order to evacuate troops from battlefields efficiently or catch them if they’re injured while in flight. following this, medics also train numerous flight maneuvers such as dives and tight turns in order to be able to catch injured siblings mid-flight.

clones have wings built for soaring and sustained flight, meaning that acrobatics don’t come naturally to them. bursts of speed and tight turns are something they have to train for; it’s not built in.

wings are a massive part of social life within the GAR. as hard as they try, there are spots on their wings that are impossible for clones to preen and maintain by themselves. thus, they rely on their siblings to keep each other in tip-top shape. as a result, preening is a very social activity, and often done to express affection as much as it is to keep each other healthy.

following the previous note, dye jobs are also a massive part of the social upkeep. they have to redye their wings frequently because of how often they lose feathers or have the intricate pigment damaged. this means clones rely on their siblings to keep the physical representations of their identities in place (and i’ll let you imagine how this affects clones who survive order 66.)

clones’ wings are NOISY. this does mean that stealth while flying is difficult for them, but it also means that they can use their wings as a form of communication. for example, snapping one’s wings open creates a loud wooshing sound that can grab the attention of everyone in the room. it’s used often by commanding officers trying to give orders to a rowdy platoon.

the wings are incredibly expressive and are the hardest part of one’s body language to control. a clone could have a blank face and a perfect parade rest, but their wings will be a tell-all for their true feelings. thankfully, the subtler of the numerous wing expressions are always lost on natborns.

i’ll add more if i think of it!

breaking my hiatus for this because i was too excited about it! i’m such a nerd about birds & wing aus in particular and i don’t see enough of it so i made it myself! permissions-wise, you’re totally welcome to use this lore in any art or fics if it inspires you, and if you want to create your own designs feel free to use that blank version of the wings right at the top! i would really appreciate a tag if you post any of it. thank you guys, and i hope you enjoy!

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waywardstation · 3 months

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Snatched

Phione Akari AU

A flock of persistent Murkrow go after Akari when both herself and Ingo's guards are down.

I wrote this based off two requests I got from anons; one to see Ingo dealing with the problematic murkrow that go after Akari, and one asking about Akari trying to figure out Pokémon moves.

OR read here on AO3!

AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!

Enjoy!

————

“No, I will not.”

“Phi!”

“Miss Akari.”

Ingo continued scrubbing his tunic in the waters of the coastlands’ stream while Akari tapped the pokedex page again with her writing tool, where a shaky doodle of scrambled eggs on a plate had been scribbled.

“I can’t. It would be noon by the time I’ve found and prepared all the ingredients. Then it would be lunch, not breakfast, and we would be several hours behind schedule.” Ingo held up the soaked tunic and looked it over as it dripped river water. Hmm, most of the dirt had washed out, it looked like… sliding down that cliffside to escape that alpha purugly had not been one of his proudest split-second decisions.

“Phiii phi!” More tapping on the page.

“I’d love to prepare some, honestly. But it’s just not a viable option right now.” Relatively satisfied with his work, Ingo stood up and held his soaked tunic out in front, taking it to hang it up and dry near the camp’s fire. “We need to be packed, refueled, and ready to leave as soon as this is dry enough to wear. It’s just going to be what we have on hand right now, alright?”

“Pphf,” Akari slumped as Ingo returned to pick both her and her pokedex up from the stream’s edge, and set them down beside the camp’s storage box. There, she resigned herself to watching Ingo poke the sluggish fire back to life with a stick, pull his coat back on over his underlayer to protect himself from the cold morning air, and start going through their provisions.

It was probably just going to be roasted beans and berries again. Boring.

“I think today, we should try searching over by Hideaway Bay.” Ingo turned to open the storage box’s lid, digging around inside. “I know that alpha ambipom is rather temperamental, but I believe we’ve put off a much-needed examination of the area for too long.”

“Phi,” Akari sighed as she watched a horrendously greasy cooking pan emerge from the container, to Ingo’s disgust.

“Eugh,” He grimaced at the crusted-over texture along the edges. “Clearly, our previous traveler was not much of a maintainer when it came to equipment. But no matter-”

Getting back to his feet, Ingo moved to return to the riverbank, ruined pan in hand. He stopped only a moment to glance over his shoulder at her.

“This will only take a moment. You’re, um, alright there?”

Akari nodded her head fervently, shoo-ing him with her flippers. She could see he was hesitant, but she was fine! He did not have to keep her stuck to him every waking moment of the day, despite what he often insisted.

And Akari both understood and appreciated Ingo’s intent. It was reasonable to want to shelter her when she had no means to protect herself, either physically or through the use of moves, which were currently still a heavily-locked mystery to her. But as someone who was not used to such constant dependency, and quite sure they’d never like it to that degree, Akari found it suffocating sometimes.

So she really appreciated that Ingo had been trying to relax on that a little lately and give her options when she had finally expressed as much.

Ingo gave one last look around, then continued on. “Alright, but please keep an eye out. I’ll be right over here.”

As Ingo got to work scrubbing the pan in the river, Akari slumped against the box and stared up at the surrounding foliage.

Bushes that seemed comparable to small houses in size. Massive evergreen trees jutting up for what seemed like a mile, the sluggish sunrise peeking its numerous fingers through the flaring canopy of branches. Hills framing their entire camp at a scale more comparable to mountains.

It was all nauseatingly staggering in this tiny body.

A rustle, somewhere overhead. Akari glanced up into the branches of a tree near the camp’s tent, sitting halfway between herself and the stream. Ingo, who had begun humming something, stopped both his tune and his scrubbing to turn back at it.

A long, heavy stretch of uncomfortable silence.

“…Miss Akari, stay right where you are, please.” A whisper carried across the camp to her. Ingo was setting the pan down carefully on the riverbank, and getting back to his feet slowly. He could see something she couldn’t. She noticed him looking back and forth. Was he… gauging the distance between herself, himself, and the tree?

Whatever was in that tree was much closer to her than he was.

Oh.

That was not good.

Akari supposed she had taken herself out of the danger for a moment, as she was slammed with the full realization of what kind of a position she was in.

Something wanted her, and she was in quite an open space. Her safe bucket was over by the riverbank near Ingo, and Ingo’s pokeballs were still set down by the tent, along with all his other belongings.

This didn’t happen. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

“Look at me,” Ingo whispered again, pulling her attention back to him. Halfway across the camp now, he was almost past the tree with his hands positioned like he was getting ready to grab her. “Don’t move. I’m almost there.”

The tree's branches rustled again, but Akari did not look back over at it.

Perhaps it was the horror of this unique situation that she’d never find herself in while in her own body. Or maybe it was the anxiety driven by uncertainty and new, prominent fragility telling her something was already diving for her. It could have even been the fact that protection was so close. But at the sound, Akari reflexively bounded forward towards Ingo’s open hands using her flippers.

The sudden and dramatic action had been a poor choice. At her movement, the tree released a mess of croaky squawking, and shades of black burst from the cover of the branches.

Murkrow. The greedy pests never lingered long in daylight, but the sun was still not entirely up yet; perhaps Ingo and herself had gotten up too early.

These had to be the same flock of murkrow that had been stalking them these past few days, waiting so patiently for a chance to snatch her. After so many previous attempts having ended in Ingo or his Pokémon smacking them away, it may have been personal at this point. And revenge was a very strong motivator.

Sharp red eyes locked gnarled sets of claws on target as they dove for her. But Ingo was quicker. A set of hands protectively clasped around her, and Akari was jostled harshly as darkness sheltered her — Ingo had reached the rest of the way and slid across the dirt to grab her first.

Surely she was safe now, right?

While she could not see, Akari could hear everything just fine. Flapping wings, incensed squawking, and Ingo’s own shouts. But worst of all, incessant pecking. They were pecking at his hands, trying to open them! How many were out there? It sounded like fifty!

“Krow! Krrow!”

“No! No! Stop it!”

Another hard jostle in the darkness, and more shouting. Akari tumbled upside down; he must have curled on himself to try and better protect her. But it was for naught; a sliver of light broke through — terror gaping through the cracks rather than comfort reassuring her that it was over. A gnarled talon had burrowed itself in between Ingo’s hands, and was trying to forcefully wrench them open.

“Get- get off!”

“Krraw!”

Through the weakening bars of Ingo’s fingers, Akari could see sharp beaks nagging at his wrists. A hard jab, a subsequent shout, and his hands reflexively jolted open another crack. More talons curled through to make sure they stayed open. Then a gnarled beak barged in and clamped down on the long, thin ribbon atop her head. Suddenly with a disorientating, painful yank, the safe darkness disappeared entirely against the harsh light of the morning sun.

Up in the air. Rising up above the storage box, then the firepit, then the camp’s tent, Akari felt herself being tossed up with extra momentum before reversing into a downward fall. And looking below, she found herself staring straight down into the darkness of a murkrow’s throat, waiting for her to fall into it. It had gotten too greedy, and had decided to try and eat her up right there before any other members of its flock could.

Oh, this was it. This was the end!

“Krawwk!” A pained screech and a flurry of feathers, and Akari’s view of an open beak was knocked aside, replaced with a weathered gear station emblem and black fabric against a sideways skyline.

Ingo’s hat. He had smacked the murkrow aside at the last moment by managing to throw it, pretty much the only thing he had on him at the moment, and saved her from being swallowed up at the last second.

“Akari! I’ve got you!” Falling back downwards, Akari could see Ingo shouting and reaching up for her amongst the cloud of pests still harassing him, and for a moment she believed she would be saved. But unseen talons from above closed around her before his hands could secure her from below.

Ingo’s hat returned to him, but she was off again with another murkrow. And this time, it made it past the camp’s tent. Surroundings scrambled together, and Akari found herself now staring down at a sight that would have flip-flopped her stomach if her current body had one.

The base camp, way down below and only getting smaller. The underside of a murkrow and its furiously flapping wings. A flock of its kin (about twelve, not the fifty she imagined) trailing hastily after them into the sky. And Ingo, still being harassed by a small group that had not yet noticed their coveted prize had been stolen away from him.

She had been snatched. A Pokémon had finally snatched her up and away from safety. And now it was surely going to eat her-

Before the sickening reality could fully set in, the murkrow carrying her squawked and dove downwards. The sky was replaced with a blurred scenery of green and brown whizzing by, and Akari realized her kidnapper was trying to lose its allies-turned-pursuers so it could have her to itself.

It was quickly carrying her far away from base camp.

“Phi! Phiii!” Crying out felt involuntary at this point; Akari couldn’t help it. This was a nightmare scenario and she couldn’t even do anything about it. Useless flippers. Weak body. Inaccessible, mystery moveset. Why had she willingly left herself out in the open like that?

A hard impact knocked Akari out of her thoughts, and a series of screeches broke out right above her. The pressure on her ribbon-like appendage loosened, and free-fall gravity weighed heavy on her for a moment before a new snap came down on one of her flippers, dragging her along once again.

Another murkrow had caught up, collided with them, and snatched her away. But its success would be short-lived; from where she dangled by her flipper, Akari could now look back and see the maneuver had given the rest of the flock time to catch up. At least seven more were right behind them.

“Krow!” Akari’s current captor squawked around her flipper in its mouth as it thoroughly examined her, bright eyes shaded dark under its feathery crest. “Krawwk!”

Still unintelligible dialect that meant nothing to her, despite being a Pokémon. And Akari knew her sounds would be just as garbled to them, but she sternly shook her head anyways, using her other flipper to smack its beak . “Phi-phi!”

Let go!!

Another impact. Feathers flew in a burst, and Akari was ripped right out of the murkrow’s beak by the greedy grip of a claw. An immediate dive bomb followed, disorienting her.

They were all fighting over her.

Trying to focus on the ground down below, the small part of Akari’s mind that wasn’t either uncontrollably racing in a panic or freezing up entirely was trying to come up with something. Anything.

Should she try to free herself from this Murkrow’s grasp? She’d fall a long way down, surely. This was a massive height for her. But she had no bones to break. No muscles to bruise. No organs to damage. She’d be fine like this, right? She was built like a water balloon, after all.

But water balloons bust open on impact. What if she did too-?

And what would she even do if she did survive the fall? Drag herself all the way back to base camp — wherever that even was now — and just hope no wild Pokémon spotted her and snatched her up along the way? And of course, all of that was generously assuming all these murkrow wouldn’t immediately go after her again in a frenzy.

This was hopeless.

She wanted Ingo.

But Ingo was not here. And he probably had no idea where she was. She certainly didn’t.

“Kroww!” Two murkrow had caught up at once and clamped down on her at the same time, one pulling on her flipper, the other yanking on her ribbon while she was still tight in the grip of a claw. With her squishy, malleable body, it didn’t hurt like expected, but it still squeezed a surprised squeak out of her.

This was pathetic. What was she doing? She did not get into situations like this, and she certainly did not give into them so easily! She did not falter to anything! Raging alphas and frenzied nobles haven’t stopped her yet, why should a pesky flock of cowardly murkrow get that honor? And Lord Braviary carried her through the skies all the time! This was the same!

…no, it was not the same at all.

Another moment of freefall as the three-way tug-of-war yanked Akari out of any secure grip, but with more screeching and flapping wings to follow, another sharp beak predictably clamped back down on her ribbon and pulled her along again.

She couldn’t keep doing this. They were going to tear her apart before any of them even got the chance to eat her! But again — no known moveset. No outside help. No helpful physical capabilities-

-Wait. There was that one weird thing she could do, where she could sort of dissolve into water. Or melt into it? Just plain liquify? It was still very confusing, as it sort of just… happened sometimes.

Could she do it out of water? No idea. Could she do it on command? Again, no idea. But it was the only way out of this that she could think of, so she had to try. They couldn’t keep her in their beaks and claws if she wasn’t solid.

The horrific squabbling continued all around her, but Akari scrunched up and pulled her flippers close. Drown it out. Just drown it out, like water. Water is loose. Be loose. LOOSE! Just let your mind drift! Let go, let GO-

Perhaps she had concentrated too hard on loosening up instead of actually loosening up, as the cold whistling of wind was abruptly a very prominent sensation all around her. Had she been let go?

She was falling! And neither a claw or a beak had snatched her up yet? Had it worked? She didn’t feel like water. Garbled squawking was still heard somewhere around her, but when Akari tried to glance upwards, she couldn’t get a good look at the flock.

In fact, she couldn’t get a good look at anything.

She had fallen long enough to slip into a mid-air tumble. Rolling too fast, it was all a hopeless blur. Sky. Ground. Trees. Clouds. Sky. Ground. Trees? Sky? No matter what, Akari could not slow down to make sense of anything around her.

Squawking was still heard, spiraling somewhere. It was going to be one or the other — if a murkrow didn’t swoop to catch her, the ground eventually would. Then she’d find out exactly how similar she was to a water balloon.

To her dread, something clamped down hard all around her, tight and desperate as she was now enveloped in warm darkness.

Akari cried out instinctively with the abrupt impact. Surely, she had fallen into the open maw of a murkrow that had finally dove to catch her. And this time, Ingo wasn’t there to knock it away and save her, and she was now hopelessly crammed into its gullet.

She instinctively thrashed as if she wanted to keep fighting, but it was half-hearted; what could she do anymore? Truly now, this was it. This was really it-

The paralyzing horror and the deep darkness retracted its hold, giving way to light. Akari opened her eyes hesitantly; she had not realized she had shut them so tightly.

There was Ingo. Quite disheveled and hunched forward over her, he was staring down at her in his fingers. His chest was heaving with excess adrenaline and exertion like he had just run a mile. His hands were trembling (and bleeding?) and warm with the same nervous sweat that slicked his forehead. His eyes were wide with a certain disbelief, yet relieving all the same as they settled on her.

“Oh, oh- you’re alright Akari! You’re alright-!” Ingo’s hands, shakey as they were, closed around her again as he held her close, reassuring her all the while that she was ok. It was as if the murkrow would snatch her up again if he didn’t. “You’re ok, you’re alright! I’m- I’m so sorry-”

He had run after her and caught her.

“Phiii! Phii!” A burst of emotion swelled her little chest with gratitude. Springing out of her stunned state to try consoling the frazzled man back, Akari’s squeaks were lost amongst Ingo’s stumbling words. Flippers extended out to him without much direct intent as he frantically looked her over, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Ingo! You!! You caught me!!

“I followed- I wouldn’t allow them to just- I wouldn’t ever let such a thing just happen-“ Quickly-spilling reassurances were choppy and unfinished as Ingo still tried to catch his breath. “I’m- I should not have gotten lax with safety procedures and left you there like that. Forgive me, I won’t neglect your safety like that ever again. I won’t- I promise!”

“Phii!” Akari reached out to bap at him with a flipper, because again, it was all she could do. Of course he’d ask for forgiveness. If he was asking for forgiveness, she of course would as well.

Ingo leaned forward, finally allowing himself to get a few deep breaths in. “You’re… alright? Aren’t you?”

Akari nodded fervently yes, but to her half-surprise, she was hurting. Areas where beaks and talons had clamped and yanked now stung like fresh bruises, but the slippery blue membrane of her body didn’t hint at any damage at all. It just… hurt, even though it appeared fine.

The same couldn’t be said for Ingo’s hands, though. Fresh marks and scrapes littered his skin and disappeared down under his tattered sleeves. They had really torn him up. Akari frowned at him as she wiped at some of the residual blood with a flipper, and threw her head up in sudden search of the murkrow.

“They were very set on reaching you,” Ingo cleared his throat. “But I am alright; I was worse off than this after my first attempt at carving a pokeball. Though, speaking of those murkrow…”

Ingo lifted his head up to look over his shoulder, and Akari’s gaze followed, eager to see where they were.

High up in the sky, a screeching, umbrella-shaped silhouette of stretched leather wings was trailing after a disorganized disaster of murkrow, rapidly escaping into the distance.

“I’m hoping Gliscor has discouraged their group enough to keep them from bothering us again. But I may have to request that Miss Zisu allows her honchkrow to accompany us next time, just in case. They’d keep their distance for certain.”

“Phi!” Akari watched on with admiration. So Gliscor had saved her! Ingo must have retrieved his pokeballs, and Gliscord must have went after the flock and gotten them to drop her-

“Oh! And ah, not to downplay the situation by changing tracks so quickly Miss Akari, and I apologize that it had to fall under these conditions, but I would like to congratulate you on your, well… first successful use of a move?”

The sentence was said just as awkwardly as it was received. That was not something one person would normally say to another person to begin with, but even given the unique circumstances, Akari cocked her head to the side, giving Ingo a confused look. A move? What move?

“I believe you utilized the move Confusion?” Ingo framed it as another question, like he needed her confirmation to be sure. “It was rather high up so it was difficult to know for sure, but all I saw was a bright flash, then the murkrow suddenly derailed every which way, and then I caught you. Remarkably similar to Alakazam’s use of the move, if I could compare.”

Akari gave a second look at the murkrow in the distance. Their flight patterns looked horribly uncoordinated like they couldn’t even see straight, now that she knew what she was looking for. And that would explain why none of them were able to swoop down and catch her…

Perhaps concentrating so hard on thoughts of a loose body and drifting mind had accidentally directed them way more outward than inward.

“Phii!” Akari squealed, throwing her flippers up in celebration. While it wasn’t what she had intended, she supposed she had used a move! It had been an accident, yes, but she used an actual move! She wasn’t entirely defenseless anymore!

“Yes, yes, congratulations once again,” Akari’s excitement was infectious, as Ingo couldn’t help but huff a laugh through his nose. But the amusement was short-lived as his tone flattened somewhat. “Though, I hope you understand that regardless of your newfound capability, you are absolutely not uncoupling from me again for the remainder of our trip. Can you work with me on this?”

Ingo tugged back the flap of his coat collar and placed Akari in the crook of his shoulder, secure along his clavicle. Setting the coat collar back, she could see why he wanted her there — the folded fabric layer hid her well, and it would be even more effective when he got his tunic back on with its spacious hood. “My coat collar, one of my pockets, a sleeve, my hat… anywhere, please, as long as it is on my person. I do not think my heart could take a repeat occurrence of this incident.”

It felt like Ingo was sort of trying to play off the severity for her sake, but Akari didn’t have to look very deep to see that things were taking their toll on him. This entire mess of a situation had crammed a year’s worth of stress and grief into a few short weeks, and Ingo was not carrying it as well as he probably thought he was. He didn’t need any more stressful things like this. Fragility of both mind and body were pitifully clear right now.

She couldn’t let something like this happen again. And if that meant staying attached to him like a stubborn tumor for the rest of the trip, she’d have no problem doing that.

“Phi-phi!” Akari latched onto his neck in a hug and used her flipper to pat against him, trying to clearly express her outspoken agreement. She was going to stay right there for the rest of the trip, and nothing would make her move.

“Thank you.” Ingo breathed out, ridding himself of any residual anxiety. His hands moved to rub at his face, but that was the last display of self-soothing Ingo allowed himself before he stood back up, groaning quietly.

“Now. New topic — Breakfast.” Ingo began making his way back up the hill towards the base camp. “Or… lack of it. It appears you will be getting your plate of scrambled eggs after all.”

“Phi?” What did that even mean?

“I had to throw what we were going to have to the murkrow, in order to get them off of me long enough to go after you.” Ingo admitted, shaking his head. “So it appears our schedule will have to accommodate for some time to scavenge. I am well aware that you will harass me relentlessly if I attempt to skip a refuel.”

“Phi-phi!” Akari leaned over Ingo’s shoulder and spit a cold, yet harmless stream of water down the back of his tunic. Darn right she would!

“Hey-!” Ingo scrunched his shoulder suddenly, something of a laugh slipping out. He pointed a finger at her in mock admonishment. “No, do not abuse the proximity!”

Akari leaned back and did it again.

#phione Akari AU #submas #ingo #warden ingo #akari #pokemon akari #phione #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends #pokemon #pla #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic #those murkrow did go after them a few more times probably #but it would not have ever gotten this bad again #Akari knows not to let herself get isolated like that again even if both herself and Ingo think things are safe

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kishibe-kisser · 3 months

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Wish I Never Met You (Ghost/Teaser)

A/N: Sorry for my absence y'all, I had exams and was studying like crazy. But that's over so you all can see my new big project!! Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged.

Tags: Zombie Apocalypse au!, Ghost x afab!reader, mentions of blood, death, Soap, Price, yelling, arguing, enemies to lovers, smut (smut tags in actual post)

“You get used to being alone so long, being around so many people can be overwhelming.” You admitted and you felt absolutely pathetic. A solid roof over your head, people that want to look after each other surrounding you and you couldn’t get a night’s sleep? You hated your body and mind for being so ungrateful.

He knew the feeling well, better than most. He struggled with this when they brought the first batch of survivors on base. They were strangers to him, sleeping a few feet away from him and they were loud. They weren’t really loud, he knew that. But you never quite realize how loud people are in general until it’s all taken away, it takes getting used to and he felt somewhat… sympathetic towards you. Being in the military equips you with coping mechanisms for things like this, it was harder for the average person.

“You’re not the first one to experience this. Which should be comforting, you’re adjusting normally.” Price told you and you feigned a smile. “If you need anything let me know.” Price added on and dismissed you. You didn’t feel comforted really, but you knew you needed to fight through it. It was a safe space and you hadn’t met anyone yet that made you uncomfortable, Ghost aside. You could do it, you had been through worse than a sleepless night.

You had been dreading the night and doing anything possible to avoid thinking about it. Oddly enough, there was plenty to do. You helped organize some of the canned food, looked into the farming system they had set up and helped cook dinner. It was a community and helping out made you feel better.

“There you are! Was beginning to think you were never going to show up.” Christine smiled as you entered the barracks. She had been kind to you from the moment you walked onto base, though it was clear she had been well socialized already. She never seemed to have an awkward moment with anyone and well, you were filled with them. It was nice to know she was worried about you though, it was dark outside and you had to sleep at some point.

“Yeah, was just doing a bunch. What’s up?” You asked, slowly walking together towards your cot. “One of the Lieutenant’s asked me to pass this along to you. You know, Ghost, the one with the skull mask.” She smiled, showing you the items in question. Earbuds and a historical fiction novel. “Did he say anything?” You asked, accepting the items with hesitation. He hadn’t said one kind thing to you since you got there, whatever this was about it couldn’t mean anything good. “Nope, just asked me to pass it along.” She said and you nodded in understanding, despite not understanding anything at all.

“Can I ask you something.” You said, mouth speaking before you even realized. “Of course.” She beamed, brushing her long blond hair behind her ear. She seemed eager at the chance of getting to know you more. “What’s his deal? Ghost’s. Like I’ve only seen him in the mask.” You asked, watching her smile pull even wider. “And that’s the only way you will see him. It never comes off. He’s a good guy though, I think. The most he’s said to me was asking me to give you that. He takes good care of everyone though. Just not with a lot of words. The kids think he’s a superhero.” You found yourself smiling at the way she talked about him and you could totally see the kids seeing him as a superhero.

The mask thing didn’t become anymore clear to you and well, you definitely weren’t going to ask him about it. You simply took his token of kindness and kept your mouth shut.

A/N: Like I said let me know what you guys think! Full thing should be posted towards Friday!

#call of duty x reader #call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley

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messy-crisantemo · 1 year

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Since we’ve entered a Gentan renaissance, I figured I should make a

🍉 GenTan fic recommendation list 🎴

Note that this is a list of personal favorites based on my likes and the many (yet not all existent) fics I’ve read. They’re not put in any particular order and they’re all completed fics. I’m adding some of the tags, but not all of them since I don’t want to make this post extra long, so please read them again once you go to the Ao3 link. And finally, if anyone is anime-only, even if a fic is spoiler free, it’s likely that it’ll have some reference to Genya’s abilities or family relationships, so be careful.

That being said, we proceed!

Don’t Talk to Me by 125389, 9k

(Red Light District Arc, Canon-Typical Violence, Meet-Cute, Strangers to friends to enemies to ???, Humor, Crushes)

A second impression, a star-crossed meeting, a misunderstanding. Each was there to do his job, to keep matters strictly business, but when have things ever been that simple?

Beautifully written, fantastic humor, and just GenTan inevitably falling for each other (both romantically and literally).

To Be The Piece You Need by Gilberrts, 11k

(Alternate Universe - High School, Dialogue Heavy, Friends to Lovers)

Shinazugawa Genya's life is in a downward spiral. He has no friends, his grades are on thin ice, and he can't seem to stop outgrowing his clothes. Then, when his relationship with his brother finally hits rock bottom, Genya has a strange encounter with the sole member of the school's cooking club.

Hurt-Comfort scenario where, of course, Tanjirou is the comfort.

Rest + Recovery by aizetsus, 2k

(genya is stressed, post Swordsmith Village Arc)

Genya gets overwhelmed pretty easily. Especially when faced with a cute boy.

It wouldn’t be a GenTan rec list without our traditional, fluffy scenario of Genya pining for Tanjirou.

Cardinals by bluejelly245, 8k

(Modern AU, Wakes & Funerals, Hurt/Comfort, Conversations, Friendship/Love, Past Abuse)

Genya and his family attend the funeral wake for Tanjiro’s father, much to the younger Shinazugawa boy’s dismay. The last thing he wanted to do was spend his evening surrounded by tears and grief, but what he least expected, was to end up on Tanijro’s bedroom floor, comforting the strange boy after his loss.

Genya discovers he is a good person, so sweet despite the gloomy scenario.

loveholic by mimimimi (reiiiiii), 81k

(Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, CEO Genya, Slow Burn, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), Strangers to Lovers, No Spoilers, Relationship Study)

Tanjirou lives a normal life as a university student on his last year, struggling financially to maintain a life that's not affordable anymore. On the other side, Genya is back to Japan after 17 years living overseas, ready to ruin his father's attempts to save face after several mistakes.

Both are on the edge, about to fall apart.

What will happen once their different worlds collide?

One of those fics that make you squirm under the blankets at 2am because you just can’t stop reading.

A tale of young love and starry nights by kenmagoesblep, 3k

(Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Fix-it, Fluff and Humor, Getting together, Love Confessions, Festivals, Minor Spoilers)

The sun is already down by the time they arrive and the colorful paper lanterns bathe the streets with a faint whimsical warm glow, highlighting the easy smiles of the festival attendees and the natural glisten of the fresh food in the stalls. Their eyes immediately go to the makeshift gate made with bent bamboo, all adorned with people’s written wishes, to be sent to the heavens by the end of the night.

Genya’s handwriting is shaky but hopefully the crooked words will carry his wish just fine.

Sweet, sweet, sweet.

diet soda society by beecalm, 6k

(Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Humor, Genya makes bad life choices, Brunch, No Spoilers)

Genya knows he should just tell the truth. He got frustrated, and thought that strong words of persuasion would revive his bike from the dead. Non-judgemental as he is, Tanjiro would probably just laugh it off and walk home with a smile on his face.

“I got into a fight,” Genya lies, instead.

(or; Genya yells at his bike, lies about his ability to kick ass, and gets indoctrinated into Kamado Tanjiro’s Saturday morning brunch club.)

GenTan + friends in a super silly and funny scenario.

July by 125389, 45k

(Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Canon Compliant, Modern Setting, Reincarnation, Manga Finale Spoilers)

It could've been just another weekend, just another month, just another season passing by, but instead they made that summer theirs.

Two teens discovering love naturally and intensely. Tears were shed and hearts were healed. It might or might not be a Fix-it.

Tonight’s sky by Wild_Quetzal, 6k

(Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Hashira Training Arc, Introspection, Pining, Arguing, Light Angst, Fluff, First Dates, First Kiss, Hopeful Ending)

Tanjirou didn’t recall having watched so many people gathered before, not even when his sister and him went to Asakusa. Everything was so appealing and, at the same time, disorienting for him.

He would’ve been feeling lost if it wasn’t because Genya was beside him.

(Or, sharing a night at a festival with Genya should’ve been easy, if it wasn’t for an unexpected event and Tanjirou himself getting in the way)

Yes, we got to the self-promotion part. I’m especially proud of this one <3

And last but not least!

Todo empezó con (un beso) una despedida by Dogchasingcars, 20k

(Manga Spoilers, Post-Canon, First Kiss, Love Letters, Long-Distance Relationship, Reunited and it feels so good, Family Bonding, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Lo que inicia como una breve despedida y la promesa de reunirse pronto (sellada con un beso), termina volviéndose una larga espera para volver a verse.

Because we’re not gonna leave the Spanish-speaking side of the fandom empty handed and it’s one of my favorite GenTan fics of all time. Melancólico y dulce, todo el dolor vale la pena.

#I highly recommend checking out more of these authors’ works!#they’re all amazing!#gentan #genya x tanjirou #genya shinazugawa #tanjirou kamado #kny genya #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny #kny fanfic #kny fic #demon slayer fanfic #fanfic rec #ao3 link

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chrisevansonly · 1 year

Text

Welcome Home Arlie Mae (Little Duck au)

pairing: chris evans x wife reader (momma e)

summary: you’ve finally been cleared to bring arlie mae home, and you and chris couldn’t be happier

warnings: slight mention of post partum struggles, but mostly just very sweet goodness

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write this for a while and i hope you guys enjoy this💜

Today was the day you and Chris had been waiting for since you’d found out you were expecting your first child together. After 30 hours in labour followed by four days in the hospital, you were finally bringing home your little baby girl Arlie Mae Evans. She was quite tiny weighing in at five pounds three ounces, part of the reason you’d spent a few extra days in the maternity ward. Despite your reassurance to Chris telling him he could go home to sleep in your own bed, he declined, stating he was much happier here with his girls. Lisa and your mom had been amazing, getting the house ready for your arrival, meals prepped and ready so you wouldn’t have to worry about cooking, Lisa had even taken Dodger back to her house for a few days to let you three get settled and accommodated to your new lives with a little baby.

Arlie truly lit up Chris’s entire life from the moment she was born, to watching her breastfeed for the first time, and now as he watched you tuck her gently into her car seat, a soft beige blanket over her as it was the beginning of April, and it was still a bit cold out. You were definitely still in some pain, and you knew it would be a few months before you were feeling back to normal and like yourself, truth be told you were willing to go through all the highs and lows because of how special your little girl was to you already.

“Alright, you ready to go momma?”

Smiling you nodded, reaching over to grab the baby and hospital bag you’d packed, Chris was quick to interject

“I’ve got it honey”

You watched as he slung it over his shoulder before picking Arlie up with his free hand and reaching for your hand with his other

“Thank you my love”

“No need to be thanking me y/n, I should be thanking you for bringing our girl into our lives”

You felt your cheeks flush at the sentiment before walking with Chris towards the exit and to find your car in the parking lot. Arlie stayed fast asleep the whole time, you had read that newborns tend to sleep a lot and eat a lot, so you figured she’d stay sleeping until you arrived home, or at least you hoped.

Once you found your SUV, Chris made quick work of putting the bags in the front passenger seat, handing you the car seat with Arlie for a few moments before taking her from you and making sure she was clicked safely into the base that sat tethered in the backseat. Chris had made sure to order the top of the line for everything when it came to Arlie, even getting it professionally installed so he knew she would be extra safe.

“I can’t believe we’re going home as a family of three now…”

Chris looked back and sent a smile your way before he got out of the back to press a kiss to your forehead

“Me either, it still feels like a dream to me”

Nodding in agreement he helped you into the backseat so you could take your place beside Arlie, he helped buckle you in too before closing the door and getting into the car. Glancing back once more at the two of you in the backseat, he started the car and took off towards home, only this time like you said, you were going home as a family of three.

The house smelt like spring, fresh flowers placed neatly around your space, some being gifts from friends and family, you never failed to feel spoiled with all the love and warmth both of your families provided for each other. For the first few months the very gorgeous nursery you and Chris spent months on would remain empty until Arlie was old enough to sleep on her own. She’d sleep in the bassinet you’d bought to sit right next to your side of the bed, making it easier for feedings and keeping an eye on her.

As soon as you’d gotten home Chris wanted to show her around, which let you get settled on the couch, leaning back into the soft cushions which after laying in a stiff hospital mattress, felt like lounging on a cloud

“Here is the kitchen, where daddy and momma are gonna make you lots of yummy food and snacks…you can have whatever you want princess”

Listening to Chris as he walked around with Arlie tucked into his arms bringing a smile to your face, you could hear him taking her throughout your home to show her around, even if she was too little to really know what was going on at all

“This is the living room, we have lots of comfy spots for you baby, and oh look, there’s momma over there, she’s so beautiful”

Arlie squirmed slightly and let out a little noise, Chris smiling down at her and you swore to yourself you’d never seen him more in his element than he was right now

“You excited to see momma?”

She made a little whimper before slowly waking up and you knew she was getting hungry

“I think she’s excited to see my boobs babe...”

Chris laughed shaking his head before bringing her over to you, waiting until your shirt was pulled up enough before giving Arlie to you, who was quick to latch on and start eating. She had no problems latching or eating from the moment she was born, but you knew you’d probably opt to bottle feed and breastfeed to give Chris an option to feed her, as well as any family or friends that would come over.

You smoothed a finger along her head gently watching as she ate quietly, you couldn’t believe how perfect she was, and how 9 months of waiting could bring you so much joy. It was no secret that both you and Chris were extremely happy in this moment, you weren’t ignoring your doctors notes about postpartum depression and other postpartum hormone drops, Chris was more than prepared to step in and help when needed, and you knew the signs to look out for. For now, though, in this moment you just wanted to stay right where you were, with your little girl, and with your favourite man in the entire world, you had all you could ever want and more right in front of you, and it was a memory you were forever going to cherish.

"I love you both so much, thank you for bringing Arlie into our family"

Leaning your head onto his shoulder, careful not to disturb the newborn as she ate you peered up at him, eyes filled with nothing but adoration

"Thank you for supporting us every step of the way, we're very lucky to have you baby, we love you so much"

A kiss being pressed to your lips was enough to seal the moment you two shared, and knowing there would be many more where that came from, you hoped these little milestones and Arlie memories would stay within your mind for as long as you both were around.

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kingofthe-egirls · 10 months

Note

Psssst, you okay with writing a Luffy smut short? Surprise me, add your own prompt and twist love❤️

Hmmm ok! I’m in love with Luffy so im always ready to write about him lmao

(cw: modern au, livestreaming on PornHub, onlyfans, camming, rich!luffy, food mention, trashy romance novel au)

(a/n: this is gonna just be me completely self-inserting myself. i need it.)

***

Your long brown hair falls over one shoulder, fluffy and tangled from under your headphones. You’ve been streaming on PornHub for a while now, having built your career with OnlyFans and livestreaming. You’re proud of what you do, albeit a little exhausted.

Hey!

Someone types a greeting, and you smile in response. “Hey there! What’s up?” You put on lipgloss, smacking your lips close to the mic in case he’s into ASMR.

I like ur smile :)

“Aw, thanks!” You click on his name to add a gold star, favoriting the newcomer on vibes alone. “Whatcha into?”

Hmmm…

He types, and you give him room. Men are typing with only one hand, usually. You smirk. “I’ve got tarot, ASMR, blowjobs, cosplay…SPH and foot fetish, although those are extra,” you meet the camera’s fisheye, but only for a moment. Eye contact is hard, even virtually.

What’s sph?

“Small penis humiliation,” you reply, clicking through your playlist. Marina and the Diamonds, today. “How To Be A Heartbreaker” is a classic, and you smile. “D’ya like being made fun of?”

Nope! But that’s okay lol

You hum.

What’s tarot?

You pick up your deck from beside you on the table: the Goblin Market Tarot, based on one of your favorite poems. You love faerie tales. “It’s a form of divination! Or just a game, depending on how you use it. But it’s cool! You can ask questions about love, career, relationships. And then the cards will tell you something specific about what’s going on!”

You shuffle the cards, shiny and periwinkle, experimentally. “Wanna read? It’s only $5 in free chat, ‘less you want a longer reading in exclusive.”

kingofthepirates has tipped you $5!

“Okay!” You say, excited. Tarot readings are your favorite. You have youtube videos and tiktoks, too. “What’s your question? I only pull one card for free chat.”

What’s for dinner?

“Ha!” You laugh out loud, “Let’s see!”

You flip over a card. Two more fall out of the deck after it, and you place them on the table in front of you. You scooch your laptop a bit farther away, to give the cards room.

“Hmm,” you say, peering over the watercolor art, “Looks like a lot, whatever it is. Ten of crowns—that’s swords—in reverse, eight of wands, and nine of platters. That’s pentacles, or earth. Which means food, material wealth, clothing, even. What d’ya like to eat? He’s got a platter of pears,” you hold up the card for the camera, grinning slightly.

Meat! Lol

“Haha, okay!” You tap on the cards in front of you. “Looks like a big party, maybe some conflict going on. Maybe a buffet? Like you’re fighting over food. But ya don’t have to be, with ten of swords in reverse, there’s plenty of food to go around. D’ya like barbecue? That’s what I’m getting.”

I do!

You sweep the cards up, and place them back in the deck neatly. “Well, that’s what I have for you! I like barbecue too, maybe I should order ribs…,” you click through your browser tabs, opening DoorDash to see what’s up.

Omg no way!!! Sanji is having a barbecue tonight!

“Sanji?” You ask, distracted, “Is that your boyfriend?” You love teasing men about having boyfriends and such, being bisexual (and nonbinary) yourself. You like tipping on the scales of heteronormativity, in whatever way you can. It makes them blush.

Nooo lmao he’s my cook! My friend

“Cook?” You ask, teasing. “What are you, rich?”

Yep!

Your eyebrows fly halfway up your forehead, but you don’t say anything. You calmly put the tarot deck away.

“I’ve never had a cook before in my life,” you cross your arms on the desk, letting your back arch so your cleavage sticks out.

It’s fun! He loves cooking and he’s the best at it. I also have a bodyguard but he’s my friend too. He likes swords ⚔️

You giggle at the emoji.

“Well, you came to the right place if y’wanna spend money,” you flirt, glittering at the camera. You’re not wearing makeup, but the pink light you have set up overhead does wonders for your skin. Plus the ring light to the side adds a couple sparkles to your eyes.

kingofthepirates has tipped you $50!

“Holy shit,” you breathe, quickly adding VIP to the stranger’s folder. “Thanks, king!” You smile, beaming at the screen. Maybe bills aren’t gonna be so bad, this week.

Let’s go to a show :)

“Gladly,” you fiddle with the collar of your robe, already itching to get undressed for this man. You hope he’s cute. “Exclusive?”

Sure 😈

kingofthepirates is requesting an Exclusive show. Accept?

You click “yes.”

Obviously.

***

The boy is very cute, as it turns out. He’s fisting his cock in one hand, camera turned on, with a sculpted abdomen and veiny forearms. His camera doesn’t show his face, but that’s normal for you. His glistening six-pack and toned arms are enough for you to get wet, grinding in your desk chair as you suck off your silicone toy.

“This is so hot,” he moans, voice raspy and sweet. His mic is turned on, which you usually hate, but this time it’s cute. Your pussy is aching, and you need his cock inside you soon.

“Fuck—,” you manage out, in between licks up the silicone shaft, “Glad you like it,” you pant.

“Love it,” he whines, playing with the bronze cockhead. His fingers are long and thick, with splotchy bruises on the knuckles. You wonder if he’s a boxer, or something. Or maybe just a troublemaker who gets in a lot of fights.

You pinch your own nipples, having teased off your silk robe at the start of the show. Now, you’re naked besides your cotton underwear that you usually keep on. Pussy’s for the OnlyFans, babes.

You’re actually turned on, too.

“Mmm,” he groans, speeding up his pace. He’s probably gonna cum soon, unless you slow down your show. You teasingly poke the cock into your mouth, stretching out your cheek. You roll your eyes up, moaning like a hentai girl.

“C-can you deepthroat it?” He asks, panting. His voice is so sexy, oh my god.

“I can try,” you giggle, and slide the cock halfway down your throat. Your gag reflex triggers, and you cough as you pull it out. “Sorry, I’m not the best at deepthroats,” you slap the toy against your cheek. He moans, anyway.

“God, you’re good,” he grips his balls with his other hand, and you notice scars up and down his arms. He also has one shaped like an X on his chest. You wonder where he got those, if he really is a reckless fighter, having adventures you can only dream of.

“What do you do?” You ask, jumping up and down in your seat. Your tits jiggle, and he groans appreciatively.

“Wish I could touch you,” his voice cracks. His hand trails up his abdomen, playing with his own nipples a bit. His hands are wide and thick, and you lick your lips.

“Me too,” you confess, genuine. He’s one of the hotter clients for you. You set the dildo down so you can play with your own tits. They’re soft and heavy, and you bounce them in your hands.

“But, ah,” he palms his cock softly, “I’m a MMA fighter. What about you?”

“Besides this?” You ask, tossing too-long hair over your shoulder. It brushes against your bare skin, and you grimace. You pull it up into a bun instead. Your eyes glitter at the camera, and your lips purse. “I make content on PornHub, OnlyFans, and other places like YouTube and stuff. Cosplay, tarot, mostly blowjobs. But not—on the wholesome places,” you breathe a laugh. “I’m kinda everywhere, these days.” You pause, unsure of what to do. “Here, let me copy and paste my username.” You send the info in chat, hoping to get an extra $5 for the OnlyFans sub.

“I’ll hafta subscribe,” he flirts, “Can I see that ass again?”

You grin, flushing slightly, as you stand up and turn around. You grab your ass in both hands, squeezing heavy flesh tightly. You bounce up and down, letting him appreciate the jiggle. Your cellulite and curves are one of a kind, you know this. Not everyone is stick-thin and spray tanned, so when customers click on your page they know they’re getting something genuine, and special.

At least, you hope.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawls out, and you turn over just in time to see him cum. Thick bursts of semen paint his clenching abs, and you hum.

“Good job,” you praise him, and he laughs. You sit back down.

“Shishishi,” he giggles, and you blush. He’s mad cute, to be honest. He fiddles with his phone, bringing it up to his face for the first time. You hitch a breath.

He’s mad cute.

“Make sure you favorite me,” you breathe, staring at his boyish features and jet black hair. His face is flushed, handsome, with a curved scar under one eye. He’s grinning at you with crinkly eyes. “S-so you can come back,” you stutter. Flustered.

Shit.

“Already did!” He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes up and down his camera. Looking at you, still bared body and soul in front of him. You wanna touch, and badly.

“Wanna hang out?” He asks, face cooling down. He grabs a towel, and wipes off his belly. He gasps, breathy, and leans back in bed. The covers are crisp and cool, almost like a hotel.

“Sure,” you breathe, ticking down to see your showtime extending. Past ten minutes, now. Fuck yeah, you think, leaning back in your own chair. “Whatcha wanna talk about?”

“Read my tarot again,” he cocks an eyebrow, “And let me know what it’ll take to get you to go on a date with me.”

***

Epilogue:

Hey 😈

He messages you on Insta, and you bite your lip. You’re sitting cross-legged at a café, having taken yourself out for a treat after your very long show this afternoon.

Hi baby 😇

You respond, too quickly. Who cares? You sip your drink, a foamy dirty chai. It tastes like cinnamon and almond milk.

Look up 👀

Frowning, you flick your eyes up and around the café. There. He’s seated across the way, at one of the square little tables situated in the center of the room. You blanch. That’s never happened before. Was there an angel of sex work watching over you?

You hope so. You gulp as he stands to make his way over to you. He’s even cuter in real life, and all thoughts of danger and serial killers and making mistakes leave your brain in one, swift breeze. You grin.

“Heya,” you say, sitting back to cross your legs. Your warm latte sits in both hands. You clear your throat. “Nice to meetcha,” you extend a hand. He takes it, smiling and warm.

“Hi,” he takes the seat across from you, pulling it out with one hand. The iron legs scrape across the granite floor. There's an exposed brick wall behind irl kingofthepirates.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," you hedge, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to be worried?"

He blanches, eyes wide. "N-no!! I swear I'm normal. I don't--live here, I'm visiting. I have a--a match tonight! D'ya wanna come see it? I can get you VIP seats." He scoots his chair closer, looking up at you from under pretty lashes. You purse your lips.

"Prove it."

He giddily takes out his phone, a very nice smartphone with a cute charm hanging from the side. You tilt your head, and see it's a little skull-and-crossbones. You smirk.

"Here!" He hands you his phone, sliding it across the table. "It's me!"

You see a YouTube video of a wrestling match: two muscular dudes with their hands wrapped in fists. One is wearing white-and-blue shorts with pink hair, tied back with a bandana. The other is kingofthepirates, wearing red shorts with his hair loose. It’s black and floppy in spikes. He jumps up and down a bit, getting ready. The bell dings, the ref moves, and the stadium around the ring erupts in lights.

King shuffles forward, fists up, and knocks the pink-haired guy out cold. “Holy shit,” you breathe, watching the match end after only one shot. “That’s you?”

“Yep!” He grins, “We’re having a rematch this afternoon. Wanna come? I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Sure,” you decide, not having much to lose. “Can I bring a friend?”

“Boyfriend?” He asks too soon. You sip your drink.

“Girlfriend,” you correct, arching an eyebrow. “Is that a problem for you?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, as long as we can still do shows sometime.”

“Sure,” you say, nodding. “I liked your show.”

He smiles, wide and delicious, before going back to his phone to text someone furiously. “Lemme getcha two VIP seats. I wanna see ya after the show.”

“Okay,” you hum, letting him type. You lean back in your chair, pulling up your own phone. You text Nami, your girlfriend.

Babe? Ur not gonna believe this ☠️

***

#im self indulgent #dumpster dive #my writing #one piece fanfic #luffy fanfic #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #the goblin market is a real tarot deck btw #i pulled real cards for the fic #i love me #this is just straight romance novel lol #trashy romance novel au #new tag lol #requests

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chimerahyperfix · 4 days

Text

RECIPE OF THE DAY

[OR: This was the most upsetting alternate looper option]

Long post because i have been cooking this in my brain for like, two months, and it's all-consuming. Also I'm not in the Discord yet because Anxiety so my ramblings had to go somewhere, and what better than one big fucking post yknow. I cast spell of fuck you mind blast on the tag/lh /j

TLDR for below: Siffrin words his wish differently, Bonnie gets trapped in a time-loop, and despite saying they're in a timeloop repeatedly nothing works and no one can help them. The normal ISAT absolute horrors ensue.

CONTENT WARNINGS: the normal ISAT tags [death, violence and trauma, suicide, self harm and unreality], Notable Pin on child endangerment and death, poisoning.

most of these get discussed ^ even if shortly

SO. THIS AU.

This is it this is my big one. Ignore me pushing the literal 12 other isat aus I have into a pile pls this is THE big one. I’m looking at the note I’ve stored all this lore in on my notes app,and it’s like. 35 fucking pages?

I've looked at a ton of alternate looper aus [that's part of the hyperfixation babeyyyy I need to consume ALL content forever and ever and ever] and I was like “oohhhh I wanna do that!!” So I literally just listened to music until I caught an idea and yikes. Looking at the AUs playlist now [it’s about 100 songs! Oops!] and I’m like [cartoony image of me laying face first on the floor]

This is a bit scattered because I wrote it over 3 days instead of working on the fic I’m supposed to be writing ooopsieeeee. Ramblings belowvvvvvvvvvv

It begins as simply as the game does. No one knows how to wish properly; so Siffrin wishes, because they know how to. The same folded leaf, repeated three times wish. Close to what is said in canon; different enough for the Universe to read it differently. No longer does Siffrin loop, because the wish isn’t about him, it’s about Bonnie and their sister. Siffrin’s wish is construed as “I wish Bonnie’s wish would come true,” and even if the Universe can’t hold onto Bonnie’s wish as they did it wrong, it CAN hold onto Siffrin’s.

And that’s the base point: EVERY LOOP, Siffrin wishes, because he wishes after he talks to them and that's where they loop back to, and its wish craft goes to Bonnie. A recipe for disaster with how much time they have!

They loop back when Siffrin gets crushed by the rock, because they can’t win while being down a party member. When they touch a tear, or when the sadnesses get the jump on the party and they all go down, or when they use the dagger equivalent [a poisoned snack], or when they get to the King. They Never Beat The King. Think SASASAaP but ISAT.

Bonnie doesn’t fight with craft, but rather craft-infused weapons. The wok and their pan for rock, a pair of kitchen shears for scissors and a cookbook for paper. Snacks for healing and buffs. And they have a cool friend that lives in the favor tree! [they get in fistfights like every five loops. Maybe it would be funny, someone just as willing to spar with them instead of trying to find the right words they can’t find because they’re a kid, if their friend wasn’t ALSO another version of themself, which bonnie clocks pretty late.] They pick up little quirks from their friends, like biting their nails like Belle, and puffing up to look bigger like Isa and stealing Dile's curses and closing an eye to match Frin's in focus. And maybe they start forgetting a little bit, just a little! The same thing over and over will get to you.

So everything essentially boils down to this. Bonnie specifically needs to be strong enough to beat the King, as the rest of the party doesn’t keep experience through loops. For a good chunk of the loops, they take advantage of Siffrin asking them if they need help and drag him into a training lesson that slowly goes from a whole emotional conversation to them quietly listening to Siffrin’s every word. [Siffrin fills this silence with random star facts that pop into their mind. This Is Important It WILL Be On The Test] Eventually the training becomes too tedious, so they start sneaking off to go fight sadnesses— and eventually just punch trees, which busts their knuckles— to get stronger faster! Everything goes downhill from there, with them forgetting to make food to them sneaking out at night to fight more to them getting reckless and uncaring; it snowballs down into “oh this could be considered suicidal confidence”.

Every loop, you say "hey, I'm trapped in a time loop", and EVERY time it is a big emotional thing that exhausts you to the point of going to bed immediately after, and everyone gets antsy and worried, and in the end the anxiety and trouble NEVER ends up mattering because the King still flattens the party every time. [And (shuffling through the sea of my notes for the au), imagine this from their situation for a second; Today, you tell your friends you are trapped in a time loop. They drag you into a long, uncomfortable conversation that makes you cry, and you go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge they will protect you, and you will protect them. You make sure he doesn't get squashed by a boulder, you make sure they find the key, you make sure they don't die. Tomorrow, you will tell your friends you are trapped in a time loop. They will drag you into a long, uncomfortable conversation that will make you cry, and you will go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge they've failed to protect you, but they're trying this loop, and you'll still protect them anyway.]

And then the King fight. He grabs them and he kills them and it fucks them up. [it fucks them up, until it too happens again and again, and eventually it simply is just another obstacle you must pass, because the second his stupid hand wraps around you like a ragdoll it’s over, so you just spit in his face to make him press the trigger immediately and not drag it out for forever- imagine the most traumatic event in your entire life, repeated over and over, until it looses all meaning. It’s still traumatic, it’s sewn into your brain forever you will never forget this.]

They tell the party ‘hey, I just got murdered’, and if this au was ISAT, it would go from having a memory that gave everyone a defense buff to a memory that literally stops you from winning, randomly attaching to a party member. You couldn’t get rid of it. They’d take every hit for you, and you’d have to loop back, because you couldn’t win with an unremovable memory like that. and that’s why they stop saying things, because if the people you loved would die to protect you, something you don’t want and have the ability to stop, would you stop them?

And so everything collapses, and from that point [the start of act 4] it collapses fast.

WHICH LEADS US TO ENDLESS MY FAVORITE LITTLE THANG

if this is transparent or not I don’t fucking know and honestly. After 2 hours of fighting ibisPaint X to make it transparent I stopped caring. o7

Slight design notes tangent: the fucking. Wispy things around their limbs just kinda move around them- yknow because black holes pull things in and they are one. Their like,,,, face spike design??? Question mark on what 2 call it? It’s designed to look like their hair lol. The little star-dot things on their knuckles are important smile. Eventually I’ll post a full thing 4 them (I have like 2 pages of random doodles of them it’s craaazy)

Endless (or Ness, later on) is Bonnie’s loop-alike. They’re a little angry hater and I based them on the song Black Hole Sun [therefore they double-dip in the space theming, the little scoundrel! Imagine being both a black hole and a partial eclipse!! Damn why you taking all the space theming for!!] which was the song the whole AU was based on! Woah! Damn you carrying ALL the out of AU lore in you! They’re anger over fear while Bonnie is fear over anger.

They make me SO fucking upset. Like. I’m not being funny anymore. This is THE most upsetting character I’ve ever written. They make me cry. My entire schtik is making horror and this little creature is the most upset I've ever been at a creation of mine.

Endless is a Bonnie who, without exaggerating, literally imploded from having too much wish craft in them— hence the black hole theme. They went through an unreasonable amount of loops [i think I noted down 400??? Probably not that many, but hey, leveling is slow when half the time you rely on a scripted event that has like 3 enemies. Never really pinned anything down, but it’s a CRAZY upsetting amount.] and just couldn’t win,, and they eventually broke, and begged for it to stop— and, well, with so much wish craft in them, even without the proper rituals the Universe just couldn’t ignore ALL this wish craft, overflowing, in one spot. They asked for help and it killed them.

And then they were at the tree! And they’re helping a DIFFERENT Bonnie, who they’re upset at because what. What why is this happening? They asked for it to stop, not for a whole NEW Bonnie to exist and to do it all over again, what is this what, stop stop it. And they have to keep watching Siffrin wish, and doom them to their endless loop, and they have to tell Bonnie no, the party can’t help them like they want the party to do because the party never could help them, and it’s just going to bring them distress and heartache. Bonnie does it anyways, until the very beginning of act 4: it goes downhill from there, until they’re worried This Bonnie will end up like THEM.

They’re not the most self-confident type. They give themself the most un-nicknameable name [Bonnie still finds one that fits— Ness. They reluctantly accept it.] [Endless vc: Ness? Like? From Earthbound???] they can think of because nicknames are a love language and they speak it, and they don't think they deserve it anymore because they've Changed, and trade out the nicknames they have for the party for things they learned from Siffrin in their own many many training loops: The Sun, The Moon, The Star, The Sky, and Bonnie is Supernova, because its cool as hell and Siffrin told them that’s what happens when a star dies, and they died. Open foreshadowing. They take to closing the same eye they made Siffrin the Star loose, because if he doesn’t get to see anymore neither should they— even if that eventually becomes a natural thing, something they do now to focus. They talk about a sister they have— had, because their world is gone and she never got unfrozen, they never learned if she was alive under all that icy craft or not, and they’re not Bonnie anymore. Ness is Bonnie, but Bonnie is not Ness.

And so, when act 5 hits, they’re desperate. They can’t see it happen again, because it erased them as a person and it was terrifying enough why would you want to see it happen again? they prepare to storm the house, bevause theyre strong enough to tear it apart themself, get stopped by the party, and essentially they’ve replaced Bonnie for a loop; which would be okay, if failing didn’t mean there would probably be Two Endlesses and No Bonnie’s. By the end of the au, Bonnie, lvl 99, is like bringing a brick to a stare down. Endless, in comparison, is like bringing a bazooka to a fistfight. They can’t face the King, they can’t, it would probably mess something up [the party has them pinned as being a kid by this point— wether they realise Ness acts a lot like Bonnie or not, who knows] so they panic and wave the party off into the King’s room and fights off the remaining sadnesses to calm down.

And the Party brings Bonnie down, and they fight a fake version of their sister [who they win against, even if barely, because Nille is their sister and damnit, Nille would never hurt them, not after giving up her life for them] and they have a breakdown, and then there's two of them. There's Bonnie and there's Ness. Bonnie confronts them and they get in ANOTHER fistfight, bveause how else would two angry ultra-powerful preteens settle things, and Bonnie convinces them to come along, because their identity has been found out and damnit Nille really won't care, Ness is her sibling too.

[Nille approaches the situation carefully, but Bonnie is right: Nille sees the two of them and immediately decides she has two siblings and she wants to protect them. Both of them went through so, so much, and they saved the country and damnit it would be monstrous to throw Ness out to the wolves because they Changed. Aka I was physically incapable of letting Ness dissapear or have a bad ending they deserve the world too.]

I just I jsutt. Auguhghghghhh. au too big in my brain spill it out on the floor it goes everywhere. When you hyperfix on your own au

#isat #in stars and time #isat au #isat bonnie #<- this is abt them. uh oh.#recipe of the day #anyways the au title is based on a shitty joke I made once #also “”’hey chef what’s for dinner? slop! slime!’#something something the recipe of the day is timeloop soup. yknow. a timeloop au. and soup…….#who let me in the kitchen. someone take me out before I burn the place down #I have. so many thoughts about this au #most of which boil down to me screaming and crying #I know there are multiple other AUs where Bonnie loops but counterpoint #has an alt looper au ever not had the looper wish?#[pushing divine intervention behind me. no that does not exist in this question]#I really like twisting au tropes on their heads :)#‘I don’t want to tread on other ppls ideas’ handshake ‘three month au hyperfix lets fucking go let’s yap’#they can and will coexist heart emoji.#I think about this au a lot. I’m cooking so much art #(yknow. aside from being the worlds slowest artist. oop)#I’ll prob post abt it every now and then (aka when I finish the fucking art)#but for now. laying my au cards down #endless is my favorite little being ever rn they’re such a little hater

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keruukat · 3 months

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I fully expected a rant as an answer to the last question lol

Tell me about the CJVerse please :)

HAHAJKJHJ fair

Hoo boy where to start!!!! Basically its a chatroom-style roleplay where alternate-universe versions of Heart, Mind, Soul, and Whole (the characters from the CCCC music album by Chonny Jash) are placed into a chatroom to interact. It’s been going since April and currently there’s about 16 of us roleplaying in it but over 100 characters. Probably 150+ characters, not counting the non-canon free-for-all chat where people put AUs of AUs haha.

I’ve got a hefty amount of characters in there, but not nearly as many as some of my other friends like @disruptivevoib or @agent-8449 (they’re insane /pos)

I think I have…? 12 guys between canon and FFA?

My favorite guy is Static, he’s my Mind from my Trial AU. Originally based off of canon, but has since diverged a LOT due to the nature of the chatroom. He’s actually very sweet? Gained some self-awareness and is actively attempting to better himself and help out Hearts. Most of the chatroom likes him but he does have some enemies. Most important enemy is Tune, who hates him due to trauma he inflicted in the past.

But lemme give an updated comprehensive list of all of the characters I RP as! Didn’t mean for this to turn into a masterpost but fuck it we ball

TRIAL AU:

Tempo <Whole> (canon)

Amp {Soul} (canon)

Static [Mind] (canon)

Tune (Heart) (canon)

ALIVE AND ALIGHT (A3) AU:

Tenor (Heart) (Canon)

Trill <(Heart + Whole (Sing) 2/3)> (FFA)

(AU with @squeak-4657 and Q-ott)

SELF AU:

Tachycardia [(Mind??? Mind-Heart mashup? Fucked up Static.)] (FFA)

(AU with Q-ott)

THE STANLEY PARABLE AU:

Robert [Mind] (Canon but haven’t used him in a while)

(AU with @disruptivevoib, @shadywoods, and Q-ott)

THE ASIDES:

The Sound of Deep Waters [Mind] (Canon but taking a break from him. Hard to RP as an eldritch horror lmao)

(AU with @agent-8449 and @nitroish)

Now for some misc 2/3! All FFA

SPRING AND A STORM:

Petrichor [[Mind x2, Static + Storm (Q-ott) 2/3]] (FFA)

STFR:

Chrysanthemum [(Mind + Heart, Static and Frizzy (Francey) 2/3)] @squeak-4657

PRAY:

Psalm (((Heart x3, Tune, Rain (Ouro), and Saint (Rapt) 3/3))) (FFA) @rosyfox2002 @shxwrunner

Plus three more 2/3 I’m cooking :3

Anyway!!! Yeah if you or someone else wants to ask about any specific AU or character I’m always happy to infodump :D

#cjverse masterpost #1/15/24 #cjverse #cjverse chatroom #chonnyscharmingchaoscompendium #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul #cj whole

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mykelneedssleep · 4 months

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***Editing cause I can’t believe I forgot to mention my other Jacobi fic I have running where he keeps waking up in alternate universes but somehow they always revolve around Warren Kepler and I lowkey love it

I wish I was kidding when I say these three have been in my drive for over a year and I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do anything with them yet

Little more about your options:

1. Actually a personal fave because you know I love sad and this one is actually sad af. Jacobi attempts to build a life after the Hephaestus and everything he does keeps coming back to his lost team (particularly Kepler, he’s got a very fucked up messy relationship with Warren Kepler that he still doesn’t understand even after Kepler is dead)

2. The premise of this one was mostly Soap works for Shepherd before Price and is ordered to kill Graves and take his place as Shadow Company’s leader and take out the 141 so that there’s no loose ends. Don’t worry he doesn’t like doing it and I would say this one actually isn’t too bad on my angst scale

3. What can I say, I think about them way too much. I’ve literally created full lore for these funky little guys we saw in the books like twice and essentially it follows them from just before the timeline of The Raven Boys to after The Dream Thieves (I can’t say how far because it’s not done but I have little snippets of things they’re up to up until the fall after the Fourth of July). Anyway I love them and I think my little made up lore is cool

4. Idk bro, make a suggestion I guess, you all know what I do at this point I think or if you don’t you could probably make an educated guess based off the other three - I’ve been thinking of starting something either AFTG (again..) or maybe doing a marauders fic

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rippleclan · 6 months

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[Image ID: a video game screen for something called RippleClan’s Promise: A Clangen Tale. Stars border the title and the Clan’s logo sits below it. Four boxes border the logo, labeled “CONTINUE”, “SETTINGS”, “NEW GAME”, and “QUIT”. A star cursor sits next to the SETTINGS box and highlights it yellow.]

The air hums around you. Everything seems to shimmer, ever so slightly, in a way that makes the world seem bright. It looks like the territory you know, but... better. Safer. A pale silver figure appears before you with a glittering pelt and excitement in their eyes.

Moonpaw:

“You came! Finally! I’ve been waiting for you for moons! What took you? Well, that doesn’t matter. RippleClan’s been thriving without you, but they’ll appreciate having you around.

“Wait... you don’t know about RippleClan?! Where have you been, living under a rock? Hold on... you don’t even know who I am, do you?! Rude! I’m Moonpaw, former mediator apprentice extraordinaire and RippleClan’s guide in the stars! I’ve been dead for generations, so I can fill you in on what’s what. RippleClan is a new Clan founded by a few Clan cats seeking a new life with a new, more open philosophy. The other Clans are... a little strict, to put it nicely. Maybe RippleClan can change some things, heh! I help them out with the day to day stuff, but you’ll be keeping an eye on them and nudging them along in SUPER big ways! It may take a few moons for your changes to take effect, but don’t worry, when they do, you’ll know.”

Moonpaw:

“I’m sorry if our connection is shaky. It takes a while to record everything going on in RippleClan, and sometimes you may not see it. Don’t worry, though, I’ll always describe things for you! Image IDs are great, aren’t they?

“Don’t worry about how I know that, it doesn’t matter. Whenever an image shows up in an update, the paragraph below the image will include the text in the image and a description of who’s in the scene. There’s a lot of juicy stuff below each image, so take the time to read! At the end of each entry will be some basic information for each cat in the scene. That means their age, their rank, their gender, and their personality. Here’s mine!"

Moonpaw: 10 moons, Female, Meditator Apprentice, Childish, Great Hunter

Moonpaw:

“RippleClan’s Promise is stylized like a simple pixel video game. As such, you might see some statistics pop up alongside our beloved cats! Here, I’ll show you. When someone gets a condition, it’ll show up like this!”

[Image ID: + CONDITION: GRIEVING appears below Moonpaw]

“That’s just one example of something that can pop up on our adventures! There’s bound to be more fun additions. Speaking of additions, this series doesn’t have the same lore as ones you may be more familiar with. A lot of the worldbuilding is inspired by the Better Bones AU by @bonefall. This AU includes an upgrade to Clan technology, such as cooking, controlling fire, making baskets, and having more advanced medical care. There are also some unique features to change things up. I’ll pop in on occasion and explain them when I have to.”

Moonpaw:

“Okay, I know rules are boring, but I gotta explain how RippleClan works, ok? Ok! I’m going to pick out the most important events from each moon, and you’ll get to see all the details!

“All the events I show you actually happened. I merely translate what I see for you. I’m keeping my influence to a minimum. That means no meddling that doesn’t fit the character. I’m not going to adjust relationships, pick out mentors, or change patrol outcomes. I will, however, adjust the occasional kit name and decide how cats respond in patrols based on their traits. Other things, like some warrior names or stories, are up to you! I’ll let you know when I need your help.”

Moonpaw:

“I think that’s all the big stuff! Come on, what are we waiting for? Let’s check in on RippleClan!”

#settings #rippleclan #rippleclan clangen #moonpaw

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zyana-wyvern · 1 year

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The Case of The Stolen Dashi Dragon

Just a silly little ASOIAF-Cyberpunk AU/Crossover that I cooked up back in autumn, but didn’t get to finish. Decided to post it as it is.

The short of it is that Zia is a rich, corporate brat and also an ASOIAF nerd and with her father’s money she decided to establish a company specialized in fire based weapons (their most successful product is a flame thrower named Vhagar 😆).

Her biggest idol is also Yorinobu for obvious reasons. Maelstrom are her biggest fans and the ones who help and fill her ranks most, also for obvious reasons.

This started out as a joke, but now I love it and started to take it waay too seriously, even if it is a bit of a crack!AU and should be treated as such.👀😄

Dialogue below

————————

Zia: Welcome to Erebus Incorporate, Takemura.

Goro: Thank you for receiving us, Valfrid. We are here regarding the assasination attempt upon Arasaka-sama. You and your… organization are main suspects, as you well know. He has been reasonable and offered cooperation, on particular terms.

Zia: On his terms you mean? I’ll have you know we are part of a fully registered and recognized incorporated entity, not an “organization” and numerous, important gangs of NC support us. It is probably why he’s choosing diplomacy, rather than violence. That being said, we deny any implication and rebuke such a horrific accusation. We would never try assassinating Arasaka. The idea is though quite…inspirational.

Goro: Do not mock me, Valfrid. I have not come here to be disrespected. Arasaka-sama is offering a chance that would be fruitful for you. You are but a child with too much money and power on your hands.

Zia: Would you say the same to Yorinobu’s face? After all, both he and I source our wealth and power from our parents.

Goro: Better if you don’t speak of anyone from the Arasaka family.

Zia: Ah, of course. You must admit I’ve achieved more in a shorter time and at a younger age than Yorinobu. Though, he and I do have many things in common, dragons and all. Takemura “sama”, if you would have come here in Yorinobu’s, name I do believe I would have been more opened to cooperation.

Goro: This is my last warning.

Zia: Alright. No more talk about them. I’ll be more lenient. I apologize. Back to the subject at hand. We are not guilty of anything. I presume that the only thing that can now happen is for us to meet in court.

Goro: It is up to Arasaka-sama to decide that, but it is probable. You also will be accused of theft.

Zia: Theft? We’re thieves and assassins? Ah, you insult us.

Goro: The dashi dragon. You stole a dashi dragon that was the property of Arasaka.

Zia: A dashi dragon? It does fit our aesthetic and branding, but I don’t see it anywhere.

Goro: It is right behind you.

Zia: Ah that old thing? It must have floated up here on its own.

Goro: You are mocking me again.

Zia: Perhaps a little… I can cooperate in my own way. By offering you a place among us. You’d be an exceptional addition to our ranks. You wouldn’t even have to change the colour scheme of your clothes.

Goro: I see there is no reasoning with you. You’re accused of assassination attempt and theft.

Zia: If I give you the dragon back will the theft part be annulled? Assassination on its own sounds better.

Goro:…

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beelicious-and-fictitious · 1 year

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Fire Hazard

❤ A Valentine's Day Special! ❤

Summary || [Kurt Kunkle X Female Reader SMUT] You’re having second thoughts about what you want from your boyfriend.

No Murder AU | 5.3k words | NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Swearing, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day Two + Kurt Kunkle + Candles,” Established Relationship, Mild Angst, Dog (Kurt’s Pet Pitbull), Brief Baby Talk, Public Displays of Affection, Groping, Mentions of Vaping and Substance Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Banter, 69ing, Double Penetration (dildo), Rough Sex, Subspace, Choking, Squirting, No Contraceptives, Dangerous Emergency Conditions, Caught Naked.

More Valentines! | Just Keery Fics | Main Masterlist

You had been dating Kurt since the previous summer. Dating was starting to feel like an inappropriate word for it as you both acted a little more like teens fooling around rather than young adults courting. The unconventionality of it didn’t bother you originally! What you have with Kurt feels extremely passionate compared to previous relationships. It feels equal and mutual. His parents sucked, so why would you want to be introduced to them? You’re both strapped for cash, so why go out for a fancy dinner? It wasn’t a relationship based purely on sex nor was it lacking, so what is there to improve upon? But eventually, you started looking around you and seeing some metaphorical tiles missing from your roof.

All of this turmoil is on your mind as you stand outside your favorite taco stand where Kurt told you to meet him. Your old school rival just posted a picture of her and her new boyfriend captioned: all I wanted for Valentine’s Day was flowers and a card, but this guy went all out cooking my favorite meal and playing a love song. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHEN HE LEARNED TO PLAY VIOLIN HAHA

The tweet only makes your ire worse as you stand in the February cold shaking in your skirt and ankle boots. You called your most sensible friend to see if they could talk you down.

“Ooh no, what’s wrong?,” they joked as they picked up. You spit words at a rapid fire rate trying to explain how your relationship suddenly didn’t feel serious anymore with concerns that Kurt might be an incompatible partner for you. When you finally ran out of breath, your friend took a wise, deep breath and answered, “I think you might be catastrophizing, babe. Relationship 101 says you gotta communicate to him what you need in order to feel happy. Have you talked to him yet?”

“...no,” you replied sheepishly. “I don’t know how to say what I mean without making it sound like I’m breaking up with him, though.”

“Look babe, you don’t actually know if he’ll react poorly. Just remember to communicate and compromise with him. Don’t let your anxiety drive you crazy.”

You sigh in relief and throw your head back. “See this shit is exactly why you need to be a counselor!”

The beep, beep, beep of the phone hanging up leads you to laugh (its a common rib among your friends, as is hanging up after hearing shitty puns) and you fire off a real text thanking them for their advice. The cold is almost all but forgotten when you hear a car honking and pulling up at the empty spot on the curb. It’s Kurt in his silver prius giving you a happy little wave wearing the hoodie you left in his car and a Kurtsworld96 beanie.

As you walk up to his window trying to prepare yourself for the Talk, Kurt rolls down the window and yells, “hi babe! Happy Valentine’s Day! Come here, I’ve got something for you!”

You make it to the passenger side door and have to turn your head in confusion. “... are there candles in your car?”

Kurt opens your door from the inside and waves you in frantically. As you climb in, the hair on your arms stands up even more when you realize how many candles there actually are. Thankfully they aren’t lit but they are placed like he intends to. You feel Kurt press a kiss to your ear.

“Hey, to all my new Kurties out there, this is not a joke! This is my real actual girlfriend!”

Your heart sinks. Fuck, he’s streaming right now? How could you forget that he streams basically everything? You cannot have this serious conversation with the internet watching. Plus you’re still mad about the ‘fans’ who made a comprehensive foot cam compilation video from streams and your instagram and your mom's facebook album (yes, they included your childhood pics, the sick fucks). You’re still blocking DMs asking you for feet pics at least five times a day.

You don’t hear a single word coming out of Kurt’s mouth as you round on him so fast he freezes like a deer in headlights. “Turn the stream off. Now, Kurt.”

Kurt sputtered. “I-I, you said–”

“I know!” You had half heartedly agreed to let him stream part of your date the week before. “I know what I said but… just turn it off now, please.”

Kurt looks like a kicked puppy as he nods and mumbles some sort of promise to update his viewers later, then ends the stream. He looks up at you through his lashes and squirms uncomfortably in the driver’s seat.

“Can you drive to the Wok, please? The one I like…”

“Are we going to talk about–”

“Yes! But I don’t want to talk about it in the car,” you interject and slump into your seat.

The whole ride is pure, disquieting silence. You know Kurt’s racking his brain trying to figure out how to apologize even though he hasn’t done anything wrong and you mentally kick yourself. This was exactly the thing you didn’t want to happen, you knew you would fuck up and snap at him all because of your own anxiety. You just need to force yourself to be quiet and try to calm down.

Your steaming silence fuels Kurt to tiptoe around you– something he has never done before with anyone. He parks and ushers you inside, bouncing on the balls of his feet and so nervous that the host who tries to seat you raises an eyebrow. You ask for a private table and a pot of tea. The table you are given has a nice red privacy curtain and optional seating. Sighing, you throw yourself onto the bean bag and scurry to pull your skirt back down.

Kurt sits himself delicately on the edge of a neighboring bench and hesitantly asks, “...can I sit with you?”

Of course you hold your arms out to him like a moody toddler demanding to be coddled and Kurt complies with visible relief. He pulls you up so he can settle next to you, cuddling but aware of the public setting beyond the curtain.

"Okay so… what's going on?," he asks quietly.

You sigh and melt further into his side, still unsure about how to voice your concern. You are saved by the return of the server who took your food order. And now nothing stood in your way, you just have to say it.

"I…" you swallow your fear and try to meet his eyes. "I… feel… like you don't take our relationship seriously."

Kurt balked as if you had slapped him. "What do you mean?!"

"What I mean is that…" you want to back peddle your statement so much but you need to move forward. Go! Forward! "I mean that I love you, but… I hate that we only have sex in your car."

"Oh well–"

"I'm not finished, Kurt! Shush!" Your boyfriend closes his mouth and tries to stay quiet until your direction. "I hate that you only fuck me in your car and I hate that we only play videogames at our own homes for your streams and I hate when we go to influencer parties just so you can get tagged in one picture and stay for hours even though we both want to go home."

You can't look him in the eye as your problem becomes clearer in your own head. "I don't hate you, Kurt. I don't want to see other people or whatever. I just… want to do everything about the day-to-day differently!"

Kurt blinked. You had summarized your entire relationship in three short activities. The only part of your relationship that wasn't uploaded to the internet was your sex life and that is only because you asked him not to. You weren't asking him for money or clout or to meet his family. You just wanted more of him.

"I can do that," Kurt said half to himself. He bumped his head into yours and held your gaze as he said, "we can do that, we can do more. Whatever you want, babe, I promise!"

Relief washes over you and your food order arrives in time for you both to dig in. A part of you is still skeptical that lasting changes will be made, but time will tell if he'll make good on his promise to be more exciting with the relationship and not fall back and demand you go back to the 'easy' stuff.

You catch him typing up a tweet and he lets you read it before he sends it. It’s just an apology to his viewers and official announcement of the canceled Valentine’s Day stream with the reason of wanting to spend unpressured quality time with his girlfriend. You split the bill on a full belly and broke away to use the bathroom, texting a thank you to your advice friend and letting them know your talk worked out.

Kurt was waiting for you by the woman’s bathroom door and kissed you as soon as you exit. He throws an arm around your shoulder as you walk out and head back to his car which is still buried in dozens of candles. He hurries forward and in a flourish, opens the passenger door for you. It’s cheesy, sure, but cute and it does make you feel a little special.

“Gah, I need to get rid of these,” he says as he has to pick a few up from the driver’s side floor and throw them in the back. “Do you mind coming to my house real quick? I’ll dump them and then we can do whatever you want to do today, okay?”

…

Kurt's house is just fifteen minutes away and you chat about nothing the whole way but still end up making plans for a stream next week and an un-streamed nature trip. It isn't until he pulls up into his driveway that you feel those butterflies return to your stomach.

You really don't wanna meet his parents, at least not today. You know it will put your boyfriend in a bad mood anyways, but Kurt insists they shouldn't be home. He also ushers you to go inside and let him clean up by himself.

Kurt gives you the house key and you let yourself in, creeping quietly around the bungalow and checking every room for signs of life. Aside from a sleepy pitbull in the laundry room, no one's home. You catch your breath and help yourself to a drink from the fridge, picking from things you hope are Kurt's.

Meanwhile, Boyfriend runs back and forth carrying bundles of candles in his arms, some of which fall to the ground and nearly break. The dog joins in and almost trips him causing you to laugh and get a glare in return.

You don't remember falling asleep on his couch but you are awoken by a hot tongue. "...I hope that's the dog."

"It is," Kurt says as he leans over the back of the couch like he's been watching you sleep. "Ready to start a real date, sleeping beauty?"

…

The mall is a little eccentric tourist attraction and your date starts with a brand new romantic movie playing at the theater. The least packed room still has rows and rows of couples and loud kids and couples with loud kids. You and Kurt get some decent-ish seats and buckle down with all the snacks you snuck in. You are practically sitting in the same seat, your legs thrown over his and his arm around your shoulders and his other hand very unsubtly groping your upper thigh in between popping popcorn and candy into his mouth.

The movie starts and the lights come down, but the noisy crowd never truly goes quiet and the littlest kids scream in disgust every time a kiss happens. You slap Kurt with a twizzler and he retaliates by taking a bite out of it.

Your mouth brushes against his ear as you whisper. "Are you going to tell me why it took you an hour to get those candles out of your car?"

With a sly smile, Kurt just shrugs and squeezes your breast which earns him a scolding from an annoyed movie goer who caught him. After the movie ends (so stupid, 10/10), you race each other to the bowling alley and get kicked out for vaping indoors (Kurt’s fault entirely), then enter a few expensive clothes shops to try things on which almost ends with you getting dicked down in a changing room. It’s dark out when you hit up a Baskin Robbins for ice cream before heading back to his house.

Your face aches from smiling so much. In the car, Kurt pulls a bullet vibrator out of the center console and hands it to you. When you don’t move, he pushes your hand closer to you.

“What? It’s clean,” he says.

“I know it’s not clean, Kurt.” You turn it on and slip it in his pocket just as a red light turns green and watch with glee as he squirms the rest of the way back to his house.

…

Somehow– possibly due to distraction from such a blessedly fun day and anticipating sex that wasn’t in a car for once– you missed the fact that the house had lights on. Kurt was grabbing something he forgot in his trunk and you waltzed up ahead and entered the house’s side door. Instantly you are greeted by Kurt’s pitbull, waggling its tailless butt and bouncing from foot to foot.

“Hi baby! Hi!,” you coo and crouch just inside the doorway, both trying to block it and trying to get further inside which is easier said than done with a dog this strong. “Are you happy to see me? Oh, so happy! Are you doing a happy little dance with your happy little feet?! Happy, happy feet! Oh the happiest little feet!”

The dog howls in song and you imitate it playfully, only to realize there’s a middle aged man in sweatpants watching you from the kitchen. Embarrassed, you stop howling and push the dog gently across the tiles and manage to shut the door properly, hoping it doesn’t obstruct Kurt. The unknown man has lots of grays in his patchy facial hair and looks at you with confusion and disbelief, like you’re a hooligan interrupting a rich man’s dinner.

Fuck, this is totally Kurt’s dad! “...hi. I’m… Kurt’s girlfriend… he let me come over…”

“Oh,” Kurt’s dad– what the fuck is his name?- let his guard down and you wonder if he might have been calling the cops. “Well, uh, hi. It’s nice to finally meet you…”

You give him your name and Mr. Kunkle nods. “Where is Kurt, by the way? I kind of need to talk to him?”

As if hearing his name, Kurt appeared behind his father. You give him a look and he just says he was upstairs.

“Hey,” Mr. Kunkle is clearly slurring his words, “you know the club by the McDonalds with the playhouse? I need you to take me there, I have a gig tonight.”

You have never seen Kurt angry before. It scares you. Mr. Kunkle’s substance abuse problems are legitimately the only things you know about him and it hadn’t occurred to you until now the drunken sway he seemed to have just standing still, he looked like he was standing on the deck of a pirate ship. And he’s going to fuck up everything…

“Oh, you can just take the car!,” you shout abruptly.

“What,” the men ask simultaneously.

Thinking fast, you cross the kitchen and nearly push Mr. Kunkle out of your way, snatching Kurt’s keys from his pocket and shoving them into Mr. Kunkle’s hands before beginning to push him towards the front door.

“Yeah, absolutely! We wouldn’t want you to be late or anything! And you know, Kurts been sick ever since we left the mall, he should really be on the toilet or maybe in the shower in case he pukes!”

“What the fuck–” you stifle Kurt’s protests with a hand in his face and continue to shove Mr. Kunkle out the door.

“HAVE FUN, SIR!” –and then you slam the door, finally alone.

“Are you crazy? He can’t be driving my car, what you thinking,” Kurt gets in your face as you start to push him towards the stairs.

“I was thinking we can have sex without company!” Kurt stops resisting you and lets you bully him to move faster, taking the second door on the left into his bedroom with a mysterious warm glow. “I was thinking I didn’t want your dad walking in on us naked and sucking each others… K-Kurt, did you do this?”

Inside the room was quite small and contained a closet, a mattress and bedding on the floor, and a computer desk and dozens and dozens of lit candles. Arranged in a line on the edge of the desk and in clusters around the bed where they were arranged in groups of four and “stabilized” by makeshift candle holders (read: dinner plates). Smells like something woodsy (Sandalwood? Palo santo? Cedar?), hinting sweet (Mango or Apricot?) and something flowery (rose probably) hung in the air like a thick warm blanket, almost chokingly and it makes you want to open his window.

“Kurt when did you…” you turn to him for an answer and find him reaching around you to unzip your jacket and slip it off your shoulders.

“I did it while you were talking to my dad.” Kurt’s hands slide over your belly and he pulls you back against his body, swaying gently. “Do you like it? I tried to pick your favorites.”

“And that’s really sweet, baby, but… this is a fire hazard.”

Kurt scoffed. “Come on, babe, it’s not that serious! They’re not even touching the carpet!”

“I know but they’re also not far from the carpet and fuck there’s a lot of them– hold on a second, let go real quick–” you dance around the candles and throw open his window as wide as you can get it without setting yourself on fire. “Holy shit, fresh air.”

“Jesus, just–” Kurt catches you by your hip and picks you up to lay you on the bed, “- can you turn your brain off for a second and let me love on you? Please?”

Sprawled beneath him, you think about it. “...no cameras, right?”

Kurt groans louder and gets off the bed. He blows out a couple candles that nearly burn his arm as he reaches for the computer mouse to show you that nothing is being recorded. Instead, as the monitor comes awake so does the speaker, both playing the sights and sounds of some twenty-something chick getting railed by two guys. Kurt swears, slapping the keyboard in a hurry to turn it off but you’re already laughing at him.

“Okay! Point proven,” you giggle and kick your shoes off, careful to set them between the candles. “Geez, maybe we should invite one of your friends over and try that.”

“Fuck no.” Kurt slips his shirt over his head and tosses it carelessly, narrowly missing the candles and both of you wince. When he unbuckles his belt, he’s looking around for space to put his clothes and settles for under the desk. “‘M not fucking sharing you with anybody.”

“Aww,” you say as you unhook your bra and shuck your tights off without tearing them. “What about a dildo?”

Kurt nods as he unzips his jeans, your eyes immediately drawn to the bulge in his boxers. “I can do that, yeah. I think I got one, lemme look. Keep getting naked!”

Your boyfriend digs through his closet and you lie back and wait with one hand on your breast and the other between your legs, sighing contently as you finally give yourself that much needed attention that you’ve been aching for since lunch. Kurt crawls back into bed and sets the belt and toy aside before leaning on his hands and kissing you passionately. You can still taste the rocky road on his tongue from the ice cream shop, and wrap both your arms around his neck to keep him close.

Kurt does shake your kiss off to ask, “did I hear you say something about sucking each other off?”

It isn’t long before you’ve switched positions– with you on top but facing the other way, Kurt’s soft locks brushing your sensitive inner thighs while you hunker down, elbows on his hips and mouth watering. Kurt's thighs shake as you wrap your hand around him, the cold of your palm and fingers touching and stretching back the burning hot velvety skin of his shaft.

With his lips against your clit, he moans. His wide hands slide up over your ass and squeeze your cheeks, drawing your center closer so his tongue can skim and tease other parts of you, slipping between your folds and tasting your slick.

"More Kurt, please."

Kurt obliges by wetting a few fingers with his mouth and pushing them into your channel down to the knuckle.

You gasp, spit dripping out of your mouth and onto his cock, which you use to quickly coat him in and lick his tip, taking the salty pre-cum and mixing it with more spit and using your hand to spread it back down to his root and over his sack.

Impatient, Kurt bucks his hips and gags you, the tip of his cock knocking lightly against the roof of your mouth. He sighs into your throbbing clit and inserts a finger into your ass alongside the ones fucking your pussy.

"Kurt,” you cough, “don’t want you to come yet…”

He smacks your ass with the hand he was fucking your pussy with. “Get up then, babe. Can you get on all fours for me?”

“Sure,” you reply, then lay back down on your belly and second guess yourself.

Kurt focuses on lubing the dildo and figuring out how he wants to wear it. It’s cute the way his brow furrows and his lip curls, not a single real thought passing through in his brain. You pull on his wrist and take it from him by the pink shaft, and he kisses you in thanks with a strong hand on the back of your neck.

“Hey!” You throw Kurt down on the bed, his hair flopping over the corner of his mattress. His surprise changes to want as you straddle him so his happy trail tickles your sex. His voice drops deeper as he hums, “heyyy…”

“Stop fucking around and put this on,” your giggling turns into a laugh when you gently slap him with the dildo and he sputters indignantly. “Oh my god, your face!”

You laugh yourself into tears while Kurt wipes the lube that was streaked across his cheeks. He grumbles as he wraps the belt of the harness around his hips and ends up just as confused as before because usually you’re the one wearing this and it’s made to be strapped between your legs too but if he wants to use his cock too he has to wear it upside down but won’t it slip around when you’re fucking and and–

Kurt doesn’t notice you’re moving until he feels warmth envelop his hard, red cock. He looks down with wide eyes, taking you all in– arms propped behind you, legs firmly planted forward and your hips rising and falling like a perverted crab walk where you work his girth deeper into your hole.

Kurt pouts, “I wanted to fuck your pussy…”

You answer by taking him all the way to the hilt and lean forward with a mischievous head tilt and reply, “well this way, you don’t have to wear the condom you didn’t grab!”

Fair enough, he does like raw dogging. Finally, the dildo is secured over his pubs and he helps you lift up to put the tip in your pussy and sink down slowly. His hands are nearly bruising with the strength of his grip and the muscles in his arms strain because he needs you to go slow, doesn’t want to stop or pause because you hurt yourself taking too much too fast. He gulps as he feels the tip massage the top of his shaft through the thin membrane wall until you’re sat down again, properly filled.

When the two of you first became intimate, Kurt quickly came to learn that you are a tough bitch to overwhelm. The first time he pulled your hair, the first time he gagged you on his cock, the first time he groped your naked breast and bit your shoulder as he came (all occurrences performed inside of his car), you barely flinched. Unfazed by his roughness and admitting which ones you loved and which ones you would merely allow. He felt like he could never really surprise you in a good way, that he might never truly wow you during sex.

But right now? Right now you are entirely dependent on him to hold you upright. He doesn’t remember how but he’s got your arm in one hand and pulling tight to keep you from flopping over. Your breaths are shaking, whining, eyes unfocused and rolling, sweat glistening in the candlelight. He manages to pull you forward enough to catch you with a steadying hand against your collarbone, hand spanning wide thumb at the hollow of your throat and fingers curling on your shoulder.

“You okay, baby?,” he asks. You nod weakly, and he hesitantly suggests, “you feel full?”

Your answer is a pitiful whine. He has never seen you like this, so lust drunk, he doesn’t have the words to describe what is happening to you. Either way, it’s making him throb inside you. When you can support yourself (both hands planted on his hairy, sweaty chest), he caresses your body from belly to thighs.

“You wanna lie down? Babe?” He pets your forehead hoping you’ll open your eyes and you do, still floating but also tethered, like a balloon on a string. “You okay?”

“M okay,” your words are slurred. “No, I wanna be up, ‘kay…”

You start your little dance slowly. Your hips move in circles, adjusting to the dual sensation of penetration. Kurt watches you in awe. He helps you transition to lazy thrusts, biting into his bottom lip to keep himself from finishing too quickly. He loves seeing you like this. It’s not the first time you’ve ridden him but fuck, you were right that fucking on a bed is better than the cramped confines of a prius. He could actually lean back and see all of you, no fear of getting charlie horses while he’s trying to blow your back out. Just your bouncing naked tits and messy hair and no concern of being arrested for public indecency.

“Harder, Kurt,” you beg breathlessly.

“Fuck… okay baby…”

Kurt can barely hold onto you, his hands too slippery for a proper grip so he moves up to your waist and begins to thrust into you. The harder he drives himself and the dildo into you, the louder the sounds that punch out of your chest. But you’re not close enough to orgasm while he’s teetering on the edge, and while he's not put off by overstimulation, he prefers to experience it as a consequence of your sadism which he's not gonna get with your current mindless state.

"Hey," Kurt pats your cheek and shakes you in order to gain your attention. "Hey!"

He sits up unexpectedly and traps you against his chest. Between the sickly sweet heat from the candles, their overworked bodies, and the cold breeze, feeling Kurt's hot body against your stark cold nipple made you hiss and try to squirm away.

"What?, you snap, finally coming back to yourself.

"There you are! Pay attention, I'm trying to make you come," he scolds you.

Before you can say anything back, his hand slips between you and roughly begins circling your neglected clit, making you gasp. Your ass constricts around his raw cock and he falls back onto the bed as a new flood of adrenaline flows through him.

"Come on, baby…"

One slight angle adjustment later and your body shudders involuntarily. Kurt isn't sure if it's your g-spot, but he's ready to find out. His hand comes around your throat roughly as he drills into you faster and harder, reveling in the feeling of your throat constricting under his hand.

Your last noise is a wet gurgle as your eyes roll back before you come, showering his lower half in liquid and fluttering tightly on him. Kurt empties his sack quickly while you're still being rocked by aftershocks before he lowers you across his chest and pulls out.

“Holy shit that was good,” Kurt pants and chuckles at your lazy grunt.

“Is something burning?,” your voice is muffled by the sheets.

“Yeah, fucking candles– OH FUCK!”

Well shit, the carpet is on fire. Maybe catching so quickly as it fell on one of the many mystery stains in the room. Frantically, you climb off of Kurt and start using your fingers to pinch other candles out, looking over your shoulder to see the fire is growing rather slowly.

“WHAT DO WE DO?”

“HOSE, GET A HOSE.”

Kurt leaps over the other lit candles and disappears out the door. You stand up and swipe a discarded flannel shirt to wear before following him– and running directly into his dad again.

“What the fuck is going on?” Mr. Kunkle tries not to look at your nearly nude figure and barely manages to step out of the way before Kurt comes barrelling back to you, handing off the unattached garden hose.

“Attach this end to the bathroom sink and turn it on. Now, Kurt!”

You wait by the still open door and watch the free fire consume a plate full of candles and catch on edge of the mattress. The heat is getting more intense as precious seconds tick by waiting for a signal from Kurt. So of course an older woman appears also in the house who you have to presume is Kurt's mom and she had clearly seen the fire from outside judging by her hysterics.

"I got it!," Kurt finally shouts above the roar of the fire and you squeeze the trigger, dousing his entire bedroom in gallons of water until the last orange flame is extinguished.

Kurt stands behind you looking dumbfounded. "Holy shit…"

Your boyfriend's mom is red in the face. "You are in so much trouble, Kurtis. And put some fucking clothes on, young man!"

Suddenly feeling self conscious, you rewrap the flannel around your naked body and tip toe into the room to see how bad the damage is. The carpet is completely fucked: black and filling the room with some awful chemical smell that was probably going to delete some brain cells the longer you inhale it, and where the edges are browned, there is also candle wax from those fallen and consumed.

You had tried to keep the nozzle down and while the fire hadn't crept towards his computer desk, you may have fucked up the tower anyways with the spray. The mattress could technically still be slept on and suffered the least amount of damage.

But considering the fact that the bedroom is littered with evidence of sheer stupidity, you know neither of you are going to be able to make up any real excuses for this.

You gave Mr. Kunkle an awkward thumbs up and toss him a pair of boxers you found in Kurt's closet, then push the door closed as you are determined not to spend any more time barely clothed in front of his parents. And while you are sure that you will not be invited back into the house anytime soon (if ever), you smile to yourself knowing you ultimately got what you wanted for Valentine's Day.

More Valentines! | Main Masterlist

Am I proud of this one? Yeah! Is it good? ...uh I plead the fifth, its dirty and thats all that matters to me. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog to show this fic some love if you wanna see more of this!

#three bees writing #kurt kunkle smut #valentines day fic #bee's archive of fiction #black reader insert #joe keery character fiction #kurt kunkle x female reader

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