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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

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What if there was a dance to find the (insert whatever monster) king's mate so they can produce a heir(and many more kids)

And a regular human reader attends for free food not believing they'll be picked from but turns out the king had a eye on reader the whole time

Ahhh! I adore this idea! Anything that has to do with food immediately has my support and any reader I write would be first in line at the buffet :D

Shadow King (Zintius) x female reader

Word Count: 2.5K

W: sfw monster fluff, kidnapping, some sfw forced stripping

You smoothed the pointy clay tips you’d glued to your ears to make you look like a pixie, before you slipped out of the bathroom and back into the ballroom.

Around you Fairyfolk were gathered dressed to the nines, all covered in sequins and feathers to attract the eye of the Shadow King. No one paid any attention to you, as a human you were much too plain to compete with these otherworldly beauties. Sirens, fairies, lovely creatures you’d never even heard of before crowded the room, subtly elbowing each other in the ribs to be the first that the King laid eyes on as he descended the stairs.

Your focus, however, was the buffet. As a human in Fairy, you were unpopular to say the least and would never be allowed in a place like this, but with a little bit of pheromone lifted off of a witch and some micah powder to make your skin glitter you’d made yourself up to pass as a pixie so you could pilfer the feast. I

t was a con you pulled often, though this was perhaps your most bold move yet. This was the King’s marriage ball. He was looking for a wife so only the richest, prettiest, and most affluent Fairyfolk in the land had gone to great expense to travel as far as the Realm of Shadow to seduce him.

It didn’t matter that he was ten feet tall and mostly smoke and big teeth. He had power and that was beautiful. The realm of Light and the realm of Twilight feared him, declaring him their greatest enemy. He was known to be brutal and imperialistic, wanting to spread his darkness as far as the other two realms would allow.

None of that concerned you, however. While their heads were all turned to watch the King descend the stairs, you were pulling a sack from underneath your stolen, stained ball gown and loading it full of croissants, cupcakes, and whatever else wasn’t too sticky to fit. It wasn’t the flashiest con, but you were just a human, you did what you could to get by and this one was easy. You got away every time and ate for a week if you rationed everything out.

When you’d gotten all you could, you shoved the sack under your fluffy dress, one you’d stolen out of the trash pile of a seamstress’ shop, and blended back into the crowd. It would be suspicious if you bolted immediately, the guards were trained to watch for thieves who would do just that, so you had to stick around for at least another hour.

You’d slip out of the back, look a little drunk if anyone stopped you, find a quiet place and put on the stable boy outfit you also had hidden in your skirt and casually walk away looking like a servant carrying out the trash.

In the meantime, your eyes drifted over the crowd, trying to figure out if you could pilfer any loose valuables while you were waiting…these rich people wouldn’t notice a few baubles missing. You didn’t even bother to look for the King, though you heard all the trumpets and fanfare announcing his arrival.

Your eye caught on a jewel encrusted fan sticking out of the back pocket of a handsome goblin. Like a cat, you honed in on your target, drifting closer and closer to the sparkling prize.

“I throw a whole ball just for you and I can’t even catch your eye,” a rumbling voice boomed just as you raised your hand to snatch the fan.

You whirled around, cheeks red, trying to look innocent, eyes widening as you took in the figure looming over you. The Shadow King looked down at you with six eyes glowing gold from the dark space that was his face.

“Um…I…Um…what?” you stammered.

A wide, white smile appeared on his face, no lips, only teeth.

“Finally, you look at me,” he said.

You instinctively took a step back, unsure what was happening. Was he confused? Was he teasing you? Surely this was some cruel joke because he’d caught you stealing, though you didn’t entirely understand it.

“Come,” he said, holding out a large hand. Whirls of black smoke drifted up off of it. The whole room was looking at you with obvious hostility, so you shakily took his hand, unsure what else to do. Your heart was hammering in your chest. The one rule of conning was commit to the bit, you had to let this play out, but what was happening?

He led you to the center of the room and music began. Your mouth fell open as he put one hand on your hip and with the other he clasped your hand and you started to dance. You had no idea how to dance, so you simply stumbled over his feet. He chuckled, revealing his white teeth again and lifted you up a bit, depositing your feet on top of his.

“Here, like this,” he said, before swinging you around the ballroom to the music. The guests blurred around you as he spun across the shiny marble floor.

His six eyes, all with different colored irises blinked down at you with utter fascination. He remembered the first time he saw you at some silly party he’d been compelled to attend. You’d done quite a good job hiding you were human only, as he’d wandered onto the terrace to get some air, he’d looked down to see you undressing. He’d watched in fascination as you’d unloaded a sack full of food and a handful of valuables, before peeling off your dress, plucking the tips from your ears and hurriedly disguising yourself like a servant boy with some pants and a low cap.

He’d snuck off, following you, curious about your life and where you were going. Humans were all but extinct in Fairy, the fact that you were alive at all was a bit remarkable. Hiding as a cloud of smoke in the shadows he watched you dangling your feet over the dock watching the boats on the river while you munched on your ill gotten gains.

It was impossible to keep his eyes off of your plump lips as you chewed and your pretty hands as you wiped crumbs from your cheeks. His heart had dropped when he’d watched you curl up in a barrel near where they dumped the trash, your head resting on your bag of pastries to sleep.

After that he’d used his own disguises to move through the nobility. It would be obnoxious if the king came to every party, but transforming himself into an unassuming orc nobleman, he eagerly waited for your arrival at every flashy party in the capital. He found your disguise rather clever and the way you slipped in and out, making yourself unseen despite how beautiful you were, very impressive.

It stunned him how well you could read your marks. You followed the cadence of the room, striking just when someone was distracted with new love or jealousy. Too wrapped up in their own drama to even care that whatever they lost was missing.

He never bothered you, afraid to disturb what seemed to be your main source of food and income. That is until he set this little trap to catch you.

“How long I’ve waited to have you in my arms,” he purred at you.

You blinked your eyes at him.

“You have?” you gasped, “are…are you sure you’re not mistaking me for someone else?”

He just shook his head, the song ending. You were aware the entire room was looking at you with a mix of disgust and envy. As the next song began and some partners filled the dance floor a plucky witch dared to shoot her shot at the King, sure she could easily pull his attention from you. You almost let out a relieved sigh when you saw her approaching. She was a perfect excuse to make your escape and pretty enough to probably succeed.

Only when she reached you he waved her away.

“I’m busy,” he growled before she could even open her mouth and your hope scurried away.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, pet,” he said, scooping you up in his arms to the dismay of you and the entire room and the two of you disappeared in a puff of smoke.

You immediately panicked when you realized where you were, struggling in his arms. They were impossibly strong for appearing to be made of nothing but black mist. He’d brought you to his bedroom. You could only assume it was his bedroom because it was the nicest one you’d ever been in. The walls were draped in glittering gold fabric and jewel encrusted weapons humming with power were mounted where they parted.

“Shhh, shhh,” he shushed you, snapping his fingers and the cold fireplace lit bathing the room in warm light.

The sudden sparks startled you still. In the glitter of firelight the shadow king’s black skin almost seemed to have a bit of a sparkle to it. Looking down on you and smiling again with his eerie Cheshire cat smile, he plucked the clay points from your ears.

“You don’t need to hide from me, little human,” he said, “you’re perfectly safe…but you must tell me…I’ve been dying to know your name.”

“Maurine,” you lied and he frowned at you, his smile inverting.

“It’s not wise to lie to me, pet,” he growled, his six eyes narrowing and the colors in them flashing.

“(Y/N),” you squeaked.

His mouth flipped again, creepily and he brushed your hair.

“There’s no reason to lie, anyway,” he assured you, depositing you into a chair in front of the fire before he crossed the room to a pitcher of water and a bowl, “whatever petty problems you may have you can rely on me to solve them.”

Wetting a rag he returned to scrub the micah from your cheeks that was giving you the pixie-like sheen. Pinching your cheeks with his shadowy fingers, he scrubbed until every bit of your disguise was off of you. From then on, Zintius wanted you to look like yourself. You’d never have to steal for a living again. He’d stuff you full of so many pastries you were plump and round.

You gasped, surprised as his large hand slipped up your skirt and fished around, brushing your bare thigh. His smile got brighter as he retrieved the sack of food and the other bag of supplies you carried on you, pulling them from under it.

Your eyes widened in horror as he tossed the bag with the food in it casually into the fireplace as if it weren’t your only source of sustenance for a week. You were almost afraid he was going to toss in your meager belongings, but he only rummaged around in them for the bottle of pheromone that apparently offended him. He was sure to toss that into the fireplace as well.

When his eyes returned to you they were laser focused on the smelly dress you’d pulled from the garbage and you started to climb over the back of the chair to escape him. He was much too fast and much too big, yanking you back down. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room as he shredded the poor thing.

“So lovely,” he gasped in his throat as he took in your body, bathed in golden light. It was so much more than when he’d imagined it. It had been impossible to see the appealing figure you’d been hiding under the ill fitting dress and boy’s clothes.

Folding himself down to you as you squealed and shrank back into the chair, he breathed in your sweet scent, underneath the annoying pheromone you were wearing. He was much too impatient to wait to scrub you, reminding himself to tell the maids to take the bedding immediately in the morning when he got around to giving you a bath. The sooner he never had to smell that stuff again the better.

Scooping you up, he hurried to the bed.

“What are you doing?!” you snarled, beating your fists against his chest, which he conveniently made smoke when you struck him so your hands slipped right through. It was not a funny joke, but he found it very amusing, smiling down at you as he climbed across the spread with you in one arm.

“I’m going to mate you,” he explained innocently.

You gasped, scandalized.

“Me!? But…but…mating is forever and I’m human! The goddess doesn’t make human mates. She hates humans!”

He snorted.

“The Goddess long ago betrayed me,” he snarled, “She cursed me to never have a Fairy mate, but I can and will have my own. You…I can feel it…perhaps the God of man blessed me just to spite her. I’ll never stop thanking him for his kindness, delivering a human angel to me. If he wants me to spend my life crusading against her creations, I will, if it means I can keep you.”

You’d prayed to Adam, the God of man so many nights as you’d slept near the dock, wondering if his reach stretched all the way to Fairy. Only what you’d prayed for was that a stray portal would open up and you’d be taken back to Earth where you’d learned the rest of the humans lived, not this…but Gods were a fickle, spiteful bunch and sticking it to Freya by undermining her curse sounded like just the sort of thing Adam would do.

The Shadow King practically purred at you, his smokey fingertips drifting over your bare skin as you cowered into the pillows.

“I can be a good lover, pet,” he promised you, “I have the power to give you whatever you like. Do you want jewels? Castles? Servants to step all over?”

You shook your head.

“I-I don’t need all that,” you stammered, “I-I just…”

You weren’t sure what you were trying to say.

His eyes narrowed on you and you saw a sliver of tooth as he smirked at you.

“Aren’t you just a little bit curious?” he asked, “don’t you want to know what it’s like not to scrabble in the dirt as you have your whole life? I’ve seen you sleeping in the cold trash, love, you never have to sleep on anything but the finest silk in front of a warm fireplace for the rest of your life. I watched the way your eyelashes fluttered as you woke, terrified of what had found you in the dark. You never have to be afraid to close your eyes again. All you have to do is give yourself to me.”

The simple lure of a warm, safe bed was enough to break you and you nodded slowly. Pleased, his smile stretched to opposite ends of his face in a terrifying grin, his six eyes eating up your body now that you'd given him permission and glowing fiery gold.

“You’ll never regret this (Y/N),” he assured you, as his fingers tore the frayed undergarments you were still wearing, “I promise you.”

#monster x girl #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster lover #yandere male #yandere x reader #x reader #monster x human

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castorfell · 9 months

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Girlymatsu-san!!

Aaa I had sm fun drawing this and couldn't wait to post it!! I love girls

Some design notes for nerds under the read more!

Osoko

Her overall shape is mostly inspired by her hair shape, so lots of curves and circles

She was the easiet design for me to recreate in my style and I love her for that

I wanted to give each Girlymatsu a lil detail that nods back to the original Matsus (since Karako and Ichiko have pretty obvious ones) so I figured a lil red pin badge would suit Osoko's business suit, plus it brings a lil more red into her overall design

Looking at it now, I feel like i should have made her heels red

Karako

Mostly rectangular with pointy edges, she's a sporty gal so I wanted her to look like she had a bit more muscle on her (at least compared to the others)

Probably the 2nd hardest design to recreate in my style! I wanted her to look more top heavy; wider shoulders and bigger bust. Ended up looking at Danny Phantom, Clone High and Total Drama Island for references

I changed her jeans and heels to sweatpants and sneakers. I just felt like they didn't suit the overall sillhoutte

She's the second tallest of the group

Choroko

Her overall shape is a mix of straight lines and circles

I didn't really know how to shove a Matsu into her design. I thought about maybe stickers on her luggage bag or a pine on her fan but those aren't really part of Her, yknow? In the end I just decided that the lil parts in her hair formed the letter M and left it at that

Ichiko

Fell in love with an emo girl

Obviously her long hair takes up most of her sillhoutte. Very Stocking Anarchy reminiscent

Her hair covers one eye now, it just felt appropriate. Plus iirc in the anime she has a lil quirk of pulling her hair behind her ear

She is a classy lady so I gave her pearl accessories

Joan of Arc lookin forehead

Jysuhiko

Big hair was the focus

I had the most fun recreating her in my style! She's just so fun

Her bracelets and earring are Matsu coloured!!

You can't really tell here but I picture her being the tallest of the group

Todoko

Imma be real, I don't like Todomatsu and most things related to him, so I kinda halfassed Todoko's design

The hardest one for me to recreate by virtue of me not wantinf to spend too long on her

She is mostly circles, because circles are cute and that's like her whole thing I guess

Her skirt has 6 ruffles, that was the only Matsu motif I could give her

Sorry Todo enjoyers

#osomatsu san #girlymatsu #osoko #karako #choroko #ichiko #jyushiko #todoko #not tagging the brothers am lazy now #fanart #castorpng

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sporadicthingcollection · 6 months

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Smash or Pass: Part 2/4 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: It's the last stop before the Grand Line and you slink away for a quiet evening. The universe, however, decides to clown on you. Sequel to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Warnings: Violence, description of injuries. Word Count: ~3.7k.

A/N: Someday I'll figure out the best way to make a tag list on here (if anyone has any experience with that hmu). Hope you enjoy this one~

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PART 2: In which you lend a helping hand, provide clown care, and tell a joke.

Swords clash. Punches fly. Bodies go flying. The band launches into a rousing up number. You admire their dedication until a chair flies past your head. You should get out of here.

You get to the door, but you stop. Where’s Buggy? He was just right there, but there is now occupied by a man with a big hat and a bear club.

More importantly, why do you care? Well, you know why you care. You just went over this. It’s because you’ve got a stupid little crush. You shouldn’t care but you’re so liquored up that you do. This was probably his plan all along—

A guy comes at you with a sword. You duck beneath him, punch him in the dick, and throw him out the door and into the street. No cheap shots in a bar fight.

And then you see it: a candy cane-striped patch deep in the throng. You skirt the edge of the brawl to get closer to it.

For a drunk guy with no hands, Buggy’s doing pretty well. Kicking, headbutting, body part separating. Cheap shots galore. You suppose it helps that he’s not fighting to win, but to get the hell out of here.

He’s almost at the edge when a mountain of a man hooks him around the neck with a wire of some kind. You expect him to separate his head, but his eyes go wide and he thrashes to no success, scrabbling at the wire.

Oh, that’s bad. Real bad. What do you do? C’mon, girl, think! There’s gotta be a way for you to lend a helping—

Hands! There they are! Smacking into everyone and everything as he tries to recall them. You grab one and then the other. You look around to return them but now there’s a whole scuffle between you and him. Three very large men all whaling on each other. There’s no way you’re getting through that.

“Hey!” you shout. He can’t hear you over the din. “Buggy!”

Still nothing. The pirate pulls tighter. He gasps and struggles.

Somewhere in your brain, you know this is the perfect moment to make a break for it. He’s occupied, won’t see you leave, and can’t follow you back to the ship.

But you can’t leave a man to die just to save your own skin. Especially when the brawl started because he was trying to defend you. C’mon, think of something!

…Oh. Duh.

You take a deep breath. You hold his hands over your head. "Hey, big nose!"

Buggy's head whips towards you as his eyes fly open, burning with white hot rage. It vanishes as he sees your trophies, replaced with awe.

It's a nice look on him.

One hand zips out of your grasp to jab his assailant in the eyes. The other grabs you by the collar.

You shriek as your feet leave the ground, lifting you up and over several dozen brawling sailors. It sets you down gently behind the bar, safe from the throng.

You’ve never flown before. You’re not a fan. But you are grateful, even if he did put you down so far from the exit. “Thanks,” you croak.

The hand shoots you a finger gun. You can practically hear the click of his tongue as the thumb flexes. How’d he hear you over the chaos?

Right next to your ear, a low voice says, “Don’t mention it.”

You scream and throw your elbow back, colliding with something hard. The low voice grunts as you jump away, and you turn to see Buggy clutching his nose.

You grimace. You know how pointy your elbows are. “That’s your own fault, sneaking up on a girl in the middle of a fight.”

He gives you an incredulous glare. “That’s not your line. You’re supposed to say…” He assumes a high-pitched voice. “‘Oh, thanks for the help, Captain Buggy! My hero!’”

You really hope you don’t sound like that. “Go soak your head. I saved you!”

He sneers at you, but he strokes his throat. An ugly ring of bruises will certainly be there later. “I had it under control.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m sorry, did you want to be dragged into an alley and used like a two-bit whore—“

A loud crack cuts him off. He blinks, looking more shocked than anything. His eyes roll back, his shoulders slump, and his head lolls forward. The rest of him follows and Captain Buggy, your hero, goes down like a sack of potatoes.

He hits the floor in a big puddle of assorted spirits, making a slap that you can only compare to when a pancake hits the ceiling. It would be funny if...

...actually, it's pretty funny as-is. You wish you were sober enough to commit the sound to memory.

Anyways, a chair in a bar fight really ought to be cheating. Then again, this is a pirate bar. The patrons are pirates. You are pirates. Everyone is pirates. It's pirates all the way down in here.

You catch the chair as it swings at you, and you see your assailant is, in fact, not a pirate. It’s the bar matron, scowling.

“You,” she grumbles. “This is your fault, you know that?”

“I didn’t ask him to help.” You yank the chair from her hands and toss it away. “And I didn’t ask to get felt up.”

Her eyes widen. “Is that what…?” She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. “Guess I can’t be too surprised about that. The boys have been spoiling to fight all night.” She looks down at Buggy. “Sorry ‘bout your boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. You really hate that you don’t hate the sound of that. But that would eventually make you Mrs the Clown and that you cannot abide by.

You wrinkle your nose. “Not my boyfriend.”

She scoffs. “Man started a brawl for you. It’s only a matter of time.” She kneels down and hooks her arms under his shoulders. “There’s a room upstairs we can stash him in. Grab his legs.”

You do so. On three, you both heave up… and he separates in the middle. The bar matron gasps in horror.

In his maybe-concussed definitely-drunk stupor, Buggy giggles. It’s kind of cute. Not at all menacing the way it’s been before. High-pitched. A bit like a weathervane squeaking in the breeze.

“Pull yourself together, dickhead,” you say. When he doesn’t, you roll your eyes. “Devil Fruit,” you say to the matron. “I’ll be right behind.”

Carrying a pair of legs is far more difficult than you expected. You can’t pick them up bridal style. Dragging them by the ankles is no good, either. You resort to throwing them over your shoulders, one leg on either side of your neck with your hands on his shins. An inelegant solution, but the only one you’ve got.

You’re halfway up the stairs when you feel something twitch against your head. Something hard. Something stiff. Something that seems like it’s pretty thick, based on the weight against your ear.

Your cheeks burst into flames. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Buggy’s cock. Don’t think about how you were wrong about Buggy having a small cock.

The matron leads you to a small room right under the roof. A bed, a trunk, and a dry sink with a wash basin are the only furniture, but a marvelous view of the harbor from the window makes up for it. If it wasn’t dark, you could probably see the Merry from here.

She tosses her half of Buggy onto the bed. You follow suit. The mattress squeaks as they bounce and, with a pop, the twain meet and he’s a whole man again.

“Devil Fruits,” the matron mutters, shaking her head. She turns to you. “You can stay here ‘til he’s well enough to walk, but I want you gone by morning. Got it?”

You nod, only to grimace. “I, uh, don’t have much money. I don’t think he does, either.”

She waves her hand as she exits. “Just don’t come back and I won’t collect.”

You realize a problem. “Th-There’s only one bed.”

“One of you can sleep on the floor.”

The door closes. You are left alone with the muffled sounds of a brawl, the rhythmic breathing of a mostly unconscious clown, and your own turbulent thoughts.

Again, you are presented with an opportunity to leave. Can’t follow you if he’s out cold. Save your friends. Save your ship. Save yourself.

And again, you hesitate. He drank a lot with you. And you did laugh quite a bit. And dancing with him was like floating — the good kind, not the kind with disembodied hands. And he whacked some guys about to manhandle you. And then he pulled you out of the fight.

How was it he had described you? Back on the Merry, when he read you like a picture book? ‘Once bitten, twice shy, but when he comes around a third time, you just can’t help yourself.’

Boy howdy, do you hate how accurate that is.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t moved since he hit the bed. You pat his cheek. “You alright?”

He stirs slightly. “Mfmn.”

That’s not good. With a sigh, you put on your triage hat. Seeing as how he got bashed on the noggin, might as well start there. "Sit up.”

He mutters something incomprehensible, but doesn't fight you as you guide him into a sitting position against the headboard. It takes a moment to untie his bandanna.

You're expecting sensibly short hair. Or perhaps missed-a-few-trims-touching-his-earlobes medium-ish hair. Maybe even brushing his shoulders in what guys consider long.

But no. What you get is honest-to-god long hair, textured by salt water and adorned with little plaits, flowing out of the bandana and waterfalling down his back. In need of a good brushing, perhaps, but otherwise healthy.

You want to run your nails through it. Twirl a few strands around your finger. Pull a comb through it. Cut a lock to braid into a rope bracelet, the kind sailors give to their sweethearts to remember them by—

You give your head a good shake. Where did that come from? That’s weird. Don’t do that.

Gently, you part his hair to inspect the scalp. A few small cuts, but nothing worth wasting gauze on. A nasty lump, though. That'll for sure hurt in the morning.

Satisfied, you let his hair fall. His face is next, but this literal clown makeup makes it hard to tell what's blood and what's not. Rummaging around in your satchel, you pull out your rubbing alcohol and a gauze pad and dab away.

It doesn’t come off easy — this is definitely the good shit — but you get enough off. Barefaced Buggy isn’t much different than the regular one, just less obfuscated by whacky colors. High cheekbones. Strong, stubbly jaw. Cleft chin. He'd be handsome if it weren't for the nose… or maybe he is anyways? Some cultures like big noses. And you know what they say about guys with big noses—

Nope. No. Knock it off. Gonna behave yourself? Good. Back to work. Where were you again?

Nose. Right. Speaking of which, you're still not convinced it's not real. The intrusive thoughts win this time and you give it a pinch and a pull.

It's real. He gasps and snatches you by the wrist as his eyes pop open, wide and darting around. They’re the color of a calm river on a cloudy day, though the river is rough at the moment. Why does such a repulsive man have such pretty eyes?

"Easy, easy," you say. "I'm just checking you out— up."

If he heard the slip, he ignores it. After a moment, he drops your hand and lays back with a sigh. "W'happen?"

A few spots of blood stick to your fingers, coming from a small cut down the middle of his nose. You couldn't tell on account of the... well, everything about it. "Someone got you from behind with a chair." You go to dab at the cut. "Knocked you out cold. Smashed your face on the floor and gave you a bloody nose."

The rage returns. He snatches your wrist again. "What about my nose?" he growls, voice raw.

On one hand, you like that husky tone. On the other, this rubbing alcohol is stinging your fingers and you're not going to entertain his insecurities. "You landed right on it. A schnoz that big and it didn't do a damn thing to break your fall."

He does not like that. He squeezes tight enough to hurt and pulls you in closer. The river in his eyes whirls and churns. "You're talking a lot of shit for someone all alone in a room with Buggy the Clown."

Not a single word of excrement has left your mouth. "And you're talking too much shit for someone with a busted nose," you spit. "You want it to get infected? Scar up? It'll look even worse."

It's blunt, but you're right. And you know he knows you're right. He's a fool, but he's not foolish enough to not listen to a professional.

What you don't expect is the way his face drops for a moment. All of the anger, all of the bluster, all of it gone. All that remains is a boy with shocked eyes. Hurt eyes. Vulnerable eyes.

But only for a moment. The walls go back up and the angry man returns, albeit at a simmer and not a boil. He drops your wrist and scowls, avoiding your gaze.

Your stomach sinks. Being snippy is one thing, but you don't like being mean by accident. Even to a jerkoff like him.

With a gentle touch, you take his jaw. "This'll sting," you say as you press the pad to his nose.

He hisses, but doesn't pull away. "How bad is it?"

Now that the blood's gone, not bad at all. "Just a scratch. Won't even need a bandage."

He fixes his gaze somewhere past you. “Shame.”

And you continue to feel bad. It doesn’t look that bad on him. You were right earlier. It does suit him. You discard the pad. “Sorry ‘bout what I said,” you say. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

Buggy he continues to look past you. He waves his hand, only to flinch. He tries to hide it with a scoff.

Your soft eyes don’t miss. “Give it here.”

He huffs and grabs the injured hand with the other, yanking it off at the wrist. He plops it in your own hand and crosses his arms.

You almost laugh. But you hold it back.

You pull his glove off, revealing calloused fingers and shredded nails. When the seas get rough, he works the ropes with everyone else. And he's been at it awhile.

"You're a career sailor," you say. You're not sure why you're surprised.

“Only trade I know,” he says.

Fingerbones intact, if not a little bruised at the knuckles. "Piracy pay that well?”

He gives a bitter smile. “You’d be surprised what you make in tips.”

Maybe you’re just drunk or maybe that was actually kinda funny. Regardless, a laugh almost manages to escape this time. Almost. You catch it in time for it to turn into a weird snorting sound.

The bitterness evaporates like mist in the morning sun as he finally turns his gaze on you. His smile brightens his whole face, scrunching the rivers of his eyes into little oxbow lakes.

Yep. He’s handsome. That little crush burns in your chest.

You swallow some infatuation-flavored bile. "Take your shirt off," you say. "Wanna— Wanna check your ribs."

He regards you for a moment. Wordlessly, he pulls his scarf from his neck and tosses it to the floor. Next goes the sash-belt thing. Finally, he shrugs out of the vest.

You're not sure what you're expecting. A sea of scars, perhaps? The mottled, diseased skin of a syphilitic sailor? A gaping void where his heart ought to be?

No. What you get is an expanse of smooth skin, dipping and rising with mountains and valleys of lean muscles. Hair covers his pectorals, thickest on his sternum. A soft belly pushes against his waistband as he breathes — not a gut by any means, but a logical consequence of indulging one's every desire. A thin trail of fuzz leads down below his trousers, growing thicker as it dips below. The carpet matches the drapes, apparently...

Your cheeks heat up. Don't even think about it, girl. Just check him out and be on your way— up. Check him up.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" you ask. You trail your fingers down his ribs, gently poking and prodding.

"Not particularly." Pressing the side of his pec makes him hiss. “Alright, maybe there.”

You lift his arm — his hard, wiry arm — and lean in close. A bit of a bruise is blooming, but it doesn’t look too serious. What is serious is how distracting the smell of fresh sweat is.

His sweat. On his skin. Glistening. Like dew. Musky. Tangy. Tasty.

He says something and it doesn’t even register. The thoughts drown him out. Do it, they say. Stick your face in there.

A light poke to your cheek yanks you out of your… whatever the hell that was. You turn to see his hand hovering. Its fingers wiggle in a wave. “Hello? Anyone aboard?”

You shake your head hard enough that you can feel your brain bouncing around. “Sorry. Thinking about contusions.”

“Should I be worried or not?”

You press your thumb into the bruise. “Does it hurt to breathe?”

He squeaks like a mouse. “When you’re doing that, yeah!”

The sound of pain is a big turn-off for you, which is exactly what you need right now. You jam your finger against the bruise one more time just to hear him yelp. “You’re fine.”

You drop his arm. You try to move away as quickly as possible while still looking casual and not tripping over yourself. You fail and land on your ass. Not hard enough to hurt, but an uff escapes you all the same.

Buggy giggles, peering down at you. “I love a good pratfall.”

He looks good from this angle. Above you. That worries you. “You’re completely fine. Worst thing you’ll have in the morning is a lump and a hangover.”

His brow wrinkles. “Not gonna check out my legs?”

Oh, you’ve already spent plenty of time checking out his legs. Nice boots. Muscular thighs. Trying to figure out if the bulge in the crotch was fabric or something else.

You grab the edge of the bed and haul yourself up onto it. “Do they hurt?”

“Sister, all of me hurts.”

You sigh. “Bring your knees to your chest. First one, then the other.”

His left knee joint pops out from its rightful spot on his leg. He presses it to his chest, then repeats the action with the other. He looks at you expectantly. “Now what?”

A banged-up half-naked clown, sitting on a bed, holding his knees in his hands. The situation is amusing enough, but something in his expression, the tone of his voice… it breaks you.

You slide from the bed back onto the floor as loud, cackling peals burst forth like floodwaters through a dam.

It feels good to laugh so hard. It hurts your ribs, your stomach, and your cheeks, but it's a good hurt.

The fit subsides, leaving you flopped on your back, arm slung over your eyes, trying to catch your breath. A few giggles bubble forth, and you do your best to swallow them.

You fling your arm from your eyes to see Buggy gazing down at you, resting his head on his arm, eyes scrunched up. “Didn’t think that one would get you."

“Shut up.” You climb up to your knees. “And stop making me laugh.”

“But you’re so cute when you laugh.”

You snort. “You tried that one earlier.”

Buggy frowns. Deeply. He moves his head to his fist, leaving his gaze level with your own. “But I meant it.”

“You’re full of bird shit.”

You try to move away, but he grabs your arm and guides you back down. He stares right into your eyes, straight into your soul. “I meant it,” he says firmly.

For a moment, you believe him. Your voice of self-doubt is silenced. The voice of what an unladylike laugh. No man could ever find that attractive. How do you expect to get a husband sounding like that?

His voice disturbs your ruminating. "Y’know, if you join my crew," he says, "you can laugh like that all you want. As loud as you want. Whenever you want."

It's probably the alcohol. It's probably because he's half naked. It's probably because you're a weak woman. Whatever the reason may be, to your horror, you do consider it.

It could be a good time. You enjoy his company. You enjoy laughing. You enjoy adventures and making mischief and romance. Both the kind with the wind in your sails and the kind with a man in your arms.

Perhaps even this man.

But you can't. You know you can't. He’s cruel. He’s crazy. You couldn't live with yourself if you betrayed your friends. Not to mention that there'd be no escape if it all went wrong.

In your moment of weakness, he slips a finger under your chin. Millimeter by millimeter, he guides you closer. His eyes drift shut as his nose bumps yours.

Don’t do this, your good sense screams. You’re drunk. He’s drunk. Stop thinking with your snatch. Don’t—

The slightest bit of nerves quiver in his voice. “Something wrong…?”

Everything. “Nothing.”

You push forward and finally, finally, your lips meet his.

It’s nothing like your previous kisses, sudden and sloppy. This one is slow. Measured. Gently crackling like the soft flame of a low fire, radiating warmth.

A featherlight moan escapes him as you pull away. His eyes search your face, bracing himself, waiting for something, hoping in vain that he won't find it.

You lay a hand on his jaw, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “What is it?”

His gaze drifts to the side as he inhales sharply. “Waiting for the punchline.” He swallows. “No way something this good could happen to me.”

This poor, pathetic man after your own heart. “I got a punchline for you. What did the sawbones say to the clown?”

Shining eyes peer at you. “I dunno. What did the sawbones say to the clown?”

“She said...” You lean in close. “‘Kiss me again.’”

Those eyes go wide.

---

Part the 3rd goes up Thursday!

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #kiss marry kill #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #smash or pass #the curious courtship of buggy the clown

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calummss · 6 months

Text

The Shelter | Eminem—Marshall Mathers

masterlist

summary: you meet eminem at the shelter when your friend drags you along to your first show

pairing: fem! reader x marshall mathers/eminem

words: 1.7k

The night sky across Detroit had stars splattered across the pitch black sky. It was so beautiful that many people that called the 313 their home, momentarily forgot the weight that was bearing on their shoulders, walking across the street towards the shelter with their heads facing the sky. Lauren grabbed your hand so the two of you could sprint across the street to follow a crowd full of people into the Shelter. It was your first time ever going to step foot in the shelter. Lauren was a huge fan of rap and hip hop and had forced you to go since her other friends had planned for the night. You squeezed through a crowd full of people that were waiting in front of the line. ‘Aren’t we supposed to line up?’

‘No,’ she replied, barely looking over your shoulder, still tugging your body until she had reached the bouncers. Neither of them said anything. They gave her body a quick scan and stepped aside, letting her pass into a tight and dark hallway, with flickering lights barely illuminating enough light to see where you were going.It seemed less than a second when she let go of your arm and disappeared as soon as she let go.

‘Lauren!’ You called out, stopping in your tracks to try and find her. ‘Lauren?’ You continued to walk along the hall, no idea where you were going or where it was heading.

It was an eerie atmosphere trapped among the building, filled with people you didn’t know and people double your size. It felt clammy, uncomfortable and you needed space to breathe. Luckily the further you continued down the hall you eventually found a bathroom. Opening the door you took a few steps into the room before you collided with a hard wall, or so you thought. No wall, just a man. He had bleach-blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin and a pointy nose. He was hot. His eyebrows were slightly knitted, his jaw flexed as he stared at you, somewhat intimidatingly.

‘Sorry,’ you said, not moving from your spot.

‘You’re good.’ He replied, his voice laced with drugs that perked up your ears like a deer. He said nothing more than a few words yet they felt like they had sung to your soul, ready to listen to what he had to say. ‘Are you here to watch the show?’

‘Yeah,’ faint smile, lips freshly coated with a sheer red lip. ‘Are you here to watch or perform?’

‘Perform hopefully,’ He adjusted his beanie, his pale skin contrasting the dark washed clothes that hung off his body, barely a silhouette to be seen.

‘Good luck out there.’

‘Thanks.’ He didn’t smile but his face wasn’t as stern as it had been before. Probably one of those men that barely smile or show emotions.

The man you wanted to ask for his name walked past you in a hurry, the whiff of his cheap cologne the only thing that stayed inside the bathroom. Barely getting a chance to mentally go over your encounter you heard the faint voice of Lauren behind you and followed it until you saw her up front before the stage waving you over with a big smile. You walked over and awaited the performance of the mystery man. When he came on stage it was like you were living through his emotions. You could tell he was nervous, maybe you only thought that because he had teased it with you but his eyes looked like there was nothing behind them except rage to rip his opponent to pieces. And that’s what he did. Cypher after cypher, beat after beat, he took majority of the wins and climbed his way to the finale. When the final rappers were announced he had scanned the crowd to look at the people who were cheering on him. His eyes stopped scanning the crown when he laid his eyes upon you, staring at you for so long you were able to flash him a smile and whisper ‘you got this’ which you knew he understood.

The final round demonstrated his flow, speed and creativity on a different level than the rounds before. It was your first show and you knew that second that he had what it took to make a rap legend. When he was crowned winner of the shelter you applauded him like it was only your claps he could hear. When people started to get ready to leave, Lauren had tried holding your hand to not be separated once again but you told her that you wanted to talk to someone and told her you would meet her outside in a few minutes.

‘Hey,’ you walked up to the same blonde boy you had met before. His friends who were talking to him steadily crept away from him and left the two of you alone, knowing that this was a conversation not meant to involve them. ‘I just wanted to say that you absolutely killed it on stage. I know it’s my first time so my comment might not mean much but I just wanted to let you know that you have an incredible talent.’

‘Thank you.’ He replied somewhat dryly. ‘All praise is good.’ His blue eyes stared at you like they had before and before, ready to manipulate you into spilling your secrets. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Y/n.’

‘Eminem. Marshall Mathers.’

‘Nice alliteration,’ you chuckled, earning a small tug on his lip from the monotone face before you. It suited him—a smile. The way his eyes would crinkle. He suited a smile. ‘I hope this won’t be a shot in the dark but can I give you my number?’ Your heart began to race, grabbing the piece of paper with your digits that you had written down right after the bathroom encounter, knowing you wanted to get to know him.

He grabbed the note, roughly inspecting it, ‘I’ll give you a call if I’m interested,’ you gave him an approving smile before he turned around.

Seconds later the sound of your phone rang from your bag, desperately trying to fish out the ringing phone and answering it without looking at the caller. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi.’

‘Who is this?’

‘You know me.’ The voice sounded oddly familiar, you had heard it before but couldn’t recall when.

‘I’m afraid I don’t.’

‘I just wanted to call and say I’m interested.’

The answer popped into your head the same time Marshall turned around with a smirk on his face. Playfully glaring at him you continued to talk over the phone.

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Will you take me out then?’

‘Do you want me to?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s get out of here.’

You hung up the phone and stepped closer to him before you both walked out of the Shelter, walking through areas of Detroit before stepping into a fast food chain to sit down, eat and get to know each other and that night you were already grateful that your life had led you to the shelter.

‘You live around here?’ Marshall asked, taking a sip from his soda, with those eyes that never seemed to stop glaring at you.

‘Yeah,’ you said as you picked up a fry and let it sit before your lips before you had finished your sentence. ‘Born and raised in Palmer Woods.’

‘Palmer Woods?’

‘Yep.’

‘Your family got money?’

‘Why,’ you raised your brows. ‘Is it a problem?’

‘Nah man, I was wondering what a girl like you is doin’ around these parts of Detroit.’

‘Just because I live across 8 Mile doesn’t mean I have to stay there y’know. Most of the people there are stuck up asses anyway.’ You relaxed your back into the booth seat, crossing your legs. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Warren.’

‘Shit neighbourhood.’

‘Tell me somethin’ I don’t already know, Y/n,’ he gave a gloomy reply, taking a bite from his burger, also relaxing into the chair.

‘Do you want to leave?’

‘Nah not really. A nice fucking house would be sweet man but I could never leave the city, you feel me?’

‘Never wish to get away from here? All this bullshit? Crime? I mean it’s fucking exhausting here. We’re all living here never knowing when our last day is our last day.’

‘You scared?’

‘Sometimes but with this in my bag,’ you lifted the handle of a gun only enough for him to see before shoving it away so you wouldn’t accidentally start anything. ‘I feel a lot safer.’

‘That ain’t what I was expecting.’ He chuckled. An actual chuckle. The corners of his lips turned, showing you that faint smile you already loved. ‘You’re kinda different from all the other girls I’ve met.’

‘Positively I hope.’

‘Yeah,’

‘Your house around here?’ You returned the question, not noticing that you had asked him before.

‘Why? Want me to take you?’

‘Just making conversation, Marshall. I’ve known you for less than three hours. Why? Want to take me?’

‘Maybe.’ He smirked, both of your eyes filled with amusement as you finished your food. ‘Not tonight though.’

‘Maybe some other time?’

‘I’ma be honest with you,’ he put his elbows on the table. ‘You’ll probably see my house once but will never go in. My mom ain’t a pretty sight.’

‘I won’t judge you for your house.’

‘I don’t care what anyone thinks but I like you, Y/n, no way in hell am I showing that shit hole so soon.’

‘It’s okay,’ you smiled. ‘I’m more interested in you than your house anyway.’

‘What are you sweet-talking me for?’ Marshall playfully squinted his eyes.

‘Is it working?’

‘Man, you got me good.’

‘Good.’ You bit your lip, ‘Let’s get outta here.’ You got out of the booth and walked out with Marshall by your side as he walked you home, taking the time to get to know each other. At your front door it seemed like neither of you knew how to say goodbye, the two of you standing across each other, the dim entrance light casting a shadow across his face.

‘Thank you.’ You said.

‘No worries.’

‘Call me,’ you took a step towards him and placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

‘I will, Y/n. You won’t be getting rid of me anytime soon.’ He smirked, both his hands balled into the pockets of his hoodie.

‘Good.’

‘Good night, Marshall Mathers.’

‘Good night, Y/n.’

#eminem x you #eminem x y/n #eminem headcanon #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #eminem imagines #eminem fanfic #eminem fanfiction #eminem #marshall mathers headcanon #marshall mathers x y/n #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagines #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers

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fantasy-anatomy-analyst · 3 months

Text

Making Humanoids Less Human

I did make a small post on this, but now I've got the art for a much bigger and more detailed post! so here we go.

I had several anonymous asks that all came in quick succession weeks ago. Every single one of them was basically just a variation on "how would you take (typically humanoid) fantasy being, and make them look less human?"

This blog does not exist for me to just give people original designs for free, my goal is to show off my own personal thoughts about fantasy design and help people figure out how to adjust their own designs to fit their vision better. That means when people ask me questions about how to do something, I want to give them things to think about so they can come to their own conclusion. I don't mind making original designs to illustrate concepts, but a whole flood of "show me how to make this specific thing look different" all at once like that was too much. I'm not answering them all individually, it's just not what I want to do.

But what I can do is show my own thoughts and ideas about how to take any fantasy design and push it further away from "human", and you all can look at my ideas and figure out your own way to do things!

So here are the main 4 methods I've come up with to make humanoids look less human.

(image description: a simplified drawing of a humanoid face surrounded by four altered versions of the same face. clockwise starting from the top left, they are:

Speculative, drawn as a cat person. Additive, drawn with horns, pointy ears, sharp teeth, and a second pair of eyes. Subtractive, drawn with blank eyes, no nose, and no eyebrows. Exaggerative, drawn with a long face and huge eyes, as well as a wide mouth, narrow nose, and big ears.

end description)

I am personally a fan of the speculative route, which means exploring an alternate root of evolution to create a new design. Through this method, I've created monkey elves, frog goblins, and pig orcs.

the additive option is the most common, I think. adding new feature or doubled features to a humanoid form is a very intuitive way to change the design and make it look less human. you see this in most fantasy and scifi designs, like star trek aliens and the dnd player races.

subtractive and evaggerative are the most common options for people that like the uncanny valley. it's really easy to make uncomfortable designs by removing or exaggerating recognizable features, and they're often used together. Slenderman, for example, removes all facial features and skin color but also exaggerates the limbs and body.

Combining the four methods will give you a really interesting design as well! So for practice I decided to explore an alternate design for Tieflings, the part-demon player race in dnd.

(image description: four examples of differnt tiefling designs using the previously described methods. the additive example is just offical dnd art of a tiefling woman with purple skin, horns, and a long tail.

the subtractive sketch looks very alien, with a bald head, empty eyes, and no other facial featuers aside from a small mouth. it has three fingers per hand and two toe per foot.

the exaggerative sketch shows a hunched humanoid figure with huge eyes and big ears. the neck, limbs, and digits are all long with claws at the ends of the fingers and toes, and the limbs are also quite muscular.

the speculative sketch shows a bipedal figure with features similar to a giraffe, including a long neck, ossicones, and hooves.

end description)

now, because tielflings have such a distinct look to them, obviously my new sketches don't really look like tieflings, do they? the only one that comes close is the giraffe. relying only on one type of alteration to the human form has left the designs rather empty and lacking in the more iconic traits of the original concept. so i tried a sketch that combined my ideas! it came out looking like a completely different creature lol, like it could be a kobold or something, still not really a tiefling.

(image description: a sketch of a creature with a giraffe-like head, long tongue, and sharp teeth. it appears to be roaring at something and stands in a half-crouch. it has long limbs with hoof feet and clawed hands, as well as a long tufted tail curled behind it. end description.)

didn't work out. too far into the animal side of the speculative evolution, I think. so I tried again and got a design I liked much better!

(image description: a digital painting of a tiefling leaping back and casting a glowing orange spell. she is wearing a tunic with a corset and detached sleeves, as well as several pieces of jewelry. Her skin is purple with dark patches like a giraffe's spots, and she has a giraffe's ossicones as well as hoof-like hands and two-toed hoof feet. Her tail is long with a tuft at the end. She has glowing eyes and a flat nose, and there is a single sharp tooth visible poking out of the side of her mouth. end description.)

Brought the face back into slightly more human proportions and that helped a lot. Sometimes designs just take a few tries! that's normal.

and hopefully this is helpful to all of you! there are so many ways to alter humanoid designs to come up with something original and unique to you!

#humanoids #making humanoids less human #altered humanoids #non primate humanoids #tiefling #long post #my designs #and btw ai cannot do this #does not matter how detailed you prompt it #it can't really get things to look this original and unique #it can't really blend different features like this in a way that makes sense #you have this power #the computers cannot replicate it

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brighttears · 1 year

Note

hi! back again with another request, i hope that’s ok! if not then totally ignore this. For the request: could we get a jealous reader? Im always seeing Fics where Joel is jealous and would like to see that changed up! Maybe she sees Joel hanging around another woman more his age and she gets insecure, idk it’s totally up to you how it happens. if you do take this request then thank you so much, if it’s not something you’re interested in writing then that’s ok too and thank you for your fics!! <3

Joel Miller x reader

No physical description except for having hair, leaning fem but no pronouns or explicit mentions, no use of y/n

Warnings: age-gap, mentions of sex, drinking, Angst (happy ending), pet names (honey), you have a big fight :,(

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: omg love this idea. Thank you for the request you’re so sweet and I’m happy to do them !! helps so much with writer's block plus I get to do cool stuff like this lol. This was challenging so I hope it doesn't disappoint :P

P.s. if any of yall’s name is Emily i apologize just replace it with the name of someone you hate lol

—

Even from all the way across the bar, you’re burning up, watching the way the woman in front of Joel twirls her hair and flashes her teeth when she laughs over enthusiastically at his jokes. Thankfully his back is to you so you can’t be tortured by whatever his expression—or wherever he’s looking—may be.

Ever since you got to Jackson women have been crowding Joel like he’s the only man on the commune and it’s been driving you up the wall. You want to go over and give Joel a big wet kiss and tell her to fuck off, but you and him have never had a discussion about ‘us’, so you have no real right to claim him. Still, it burns, and that woman, Emily, as you’ve come to learn her name, as Joel’s number one fan, has such a punchable face. A matching burn of the whisky from your glass is welcomed down to your stomach.

When she leans forward, showing off the goods, you can’t stand it anymore, down the dregs of your drink and storm out of the Tipsy Bison. The icy breeze cools you down some but you’re in no way calm once you’re back at the house. Stomping up to your room—you and Joel’s room, you strip your jacket and immediately grab your gun to deep clean. Icey pain drips from your heart down into the crater of lava in your chest and it hisses in your ears.

Sitting at the head of the bed, you’re almost done with the fourth cleaning when Joel’s recognizable stomps sound with the creaking and slam of the front door. You continue to clean, not looking up when he comes in.

“Hey,” he says breathily, innocently.

“Hm. I’m surprised you even came home.” you reply, still not looking up. Still aflame, you keep a mostly even tone but Joel easily catches the pointy edges.

He pauses, then finishes kicking off his boots to straighten up and turn to you, “An’ why’s that?”

“I mean I thought I wouldn't see you until tomorrow morning on your walk of shame from Emily’s house.” you keep your focus on the final wipe down of your gun.

“What?”

“What? Can’t blame me, I saw her eyefucking you. Basically shaking her tits in your face, too. Didn’t stay long though, it was actually kind of fucking gross.”

“Beg your fuckin’ pardon?”

“Oh, don’t act stupid.” you finally meet his gaze, “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. Go fuck whoever you want. I guess it’s none of my business. Would have been nice to know that that was the deal here before we started sharing an actual bed, though.” you go back to overpolishing the metal, trying to act nonchalant, but your chest is full of mud.

“What makes you think I’m goin’ around fuckin’ other women?”

“Well, now that you’ve got the pick of the litter, why settle for me?” you finally place your gun down loudly on the nightstand.

Joel raises his voice in sternness, “What the fuck r’you talkin’ about?”

You take a deep breath through your nose, refusing to let your anger go, but the icey, tight pain is tearing at your heart and you can’t stop it from piercing through your voice when you say, “I just—I just thought it was me, I thought it was me you wanted.”

“What—’course you’re—where’s all this comin’ from?”

You stand to face him and scoff, “Please, you think I don’t see the way the women here have been looking at you? They drool all over you, and you just let them, you throw ‘em a smile.” you voice is teeming with attitude, “Never saying a word to me about it. What is it, are you ashamed of me? I have to be your little secret? I’m just some young—some young…” you stop yourself before you finish a sentence you know you’ll regret, no matter how much you want to stick him with it, but it’s too late.

Joel steps one foot towards you and shoves his finger out, glowering, “Good call not finishin’ that sentence.” he growls, “I don’t know who the fuck you’re talkin’ to though cause it sure as hell ain’t me.”

You pick your fire right back up, “I thought maybe I’d be good enough but there's things I don’t have, huh? Need a woman more your speed? Well, you’re free to let Emily fuck you better, just please don’t bring her back here, okay?” you end it with your voice drenched in sarcasm.

It’s Joel’s turn to scoff now, “What the fuck are you talkin’ about? I don’t give a shit about Emily! I’m not fuckin’ her! Wh—” Joel narrows his eyes, “You tryin’ to say I’m a cheater? Is that it? That's what you think a me?”

“N–no,” you stutter, suddenly realizing that that is what you’re accusing him of.

Near shouting, he continues, “You don’t trust me. That's what this is about.”

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you move towards him but he steps back.

“How the hell else am I supposed’t take that?”

“I’m just scared.” the confession jumps out of you.

“Scared of what?” he shouts.

“Of you leaving me!” your voice breaks and you choke back the onset of a sob, but Joel loses no venom.

“You’re scared of me leaving? After all this time—after everything, you think I’m—I’d—I don’t want to leave you! Talkin’ to Emily, I was just tryin’ t’be fuckin’ polite, be,” he takes another step towards you, “social, that’s all! You think I can’t talk to women without tryna get in their pants? Is that really the kinda man you think I am? Should I stop talkin’ to Maria, too? Cause I’m such a piece a shit cheater I’m probably tryna get at her, too, huh? My own brother's wife? That’s what you think a me?”

“No,” you nearly scream, hitting your hands to your head to grab at your hair, “that’s not what I mean, that’s not what I’m trying to say!”

“Then what are you trying to say?” He yells back.

Your chest is starting to heave, beginning to be overwhelmed with emotion, but you try to keep it under control, not wanting to break down in the middle of an argument. “I just hate seeing it! I hate seeing the women here fucking crawling all over you like cats in heat and you just fucking take it, like you want it, you want them, not me, now that I’m not the only option, you’ve got all these pretty women just waiting for you to knock on their fucking door, and I was just—just—”

“What, just some young pussy?” Joel snarls.

“No one that mattered! No one special! And all of it was empty, all the words, the sex, the time we shared, I was just a placeholder for a proper woman, cause I’m not good enough, was never good enough for you…” your voice shatters as the whirling in your head and heart overcomes you and you step back until the back of your knees hit the bed, then flump down and put your head in your hands, trying not to sob.

Instinctually, Joel comes to kneel before you, his anger beginning to melt away when his attention shifts to you in pain. He takes your wrists to uncover your face, saying nothing, only focusing your eyes and his, now gentle, as you continue to try to control your jumping breaths. After a few moments of you unsuccessfully calming yourself, Joel moves his hand to stroke your cheek, over the side of your face, into your hair. When your breathing has calmed some, he looks over your face and wipes away the few escaped tears. “I hate it when you cry but you look so pretty when you do.” he tells you, soft and quiet, pulling a small laugh out of you. Once your inhales and exhales are at an even pace, he speaks up again, with a soothing tone, “Okay. Now I’ve calmed down, n’ you’ve calmed down.” he takes a deep breath and you do with him, like you’ve learned to, before he continues, “I know all a that was just outta anger. N’ we’re just not at an understandin’ here… Honey I’m in love with you.”

His words make you take a deep, post-cry shuddering breath. Remembering you have to say something back, you whisper, “I’m in love with you, too.”

After a few silent but full moments with Joel stealing glances at your lips, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod your head as you’re already leaning in as a response. Your lips essentially smash together, want igniting in both of you. You lean forward until he’s on the floor and you’re sitting on top of him, both hands holding his face while one of his clutches your hip and the other slides over your jaw and into your hair. Then Joel pushes you up and onto the bed, nosing into your neck from above you, sticking wet kisses all up and down it while your hands tangle in his hair. He slows and drags kisses back up to your mouth. Sounding drunk, Joel finds time between your mouths to say “Don’ want no one else.”

Between kisses you continue to converse, “So can I punch Emily in the face?”

“Mmm, I don't think Maria would like that very much. Why don’tcha just give me a big sloppy kiss next time she won't leave me th' fuck alone?”

“I can do that. Can we hold hands?”

“Yeah we can do that. Can I squeeze yer ass?”

“Only when someone’s looking. You can do it when they're not either but I would prefer if you did it while you know one of those alley cat’s watchin’.”

“Mhm. Every time. Let em’ all know.”

“You know, you’re gonna have a lot less friends once I scare all of them away.”

“Fuckin’ fine by me. I got everyone I need already.”

#the last of us #joel miller #tlou #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller angst

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dreaming-tonite · 7 months

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Pairing: Eldrich monster!Jason Todd x f!reader

Warning: monster fucking, non-con, major size diff, unprotected penetrative sex, biologically unrealistic everything (if the warning for monster fucking isn’t enough of a red light already), don't come at me talking about how it doesn't align with canon I don't care—

Word count: 1.8k

Jason Todd died and came back, that one bit we all know.

But what if instead of coming back the way we know it, he came back wrong, so so wrong.

Whatever it was in that green, endless pit, it did not do for him what it was supposed to do. Instead, the fluorescent seeped into the pores, the lungs of his lifeless body and found all the fear, the bitterness, and the anger that its owner felt right before his last breath.

And it reached down, and it reached down until all that venom transformed Jason Todd's body into something else entirely.

The pit brought him back but without a soul, and a creature without a soul was no man.

Anger gave it glaring fangs and nails that were pointy and curled like fangs, bitterness warped its face, and fear made it grow and grow until it was as big as the shadows that lurked in nightmares haunting the empty hallway of the quiet manor where they mourn the lost of a son.

There were no traces of the boy it once was left in the eldritch horror it had become, nor did any of its vessel's memories, only an aching void in its chest, which it did not have a word for.

The only thing it remembered, was that it must return to this faraway dot on the map called Gotham, where it could taste the heartache on its inhuman tongue just to think about despite not having a heart.

The way back to Gotham was long but it managed to get there by travelling in the shadows no one knew to look at.

There must be something that called for it, but the more it tried to think about it the more it hurt.

Until night came and the light came on.

Somehow, even though there was only very little of it left, the littlest bit of soul left inside the creature still knew to respond to the bat signal that illuminated the Gotham sky.

And it was all sort of confusing emotions mixed into one, and the creature felt a sharp pain in its pitch-black eyes the longer it stared.

So it ran, through quiet alleyways and under broken lamps where no one would pass by, without knowing where it could run to.

And it felt fear, and rage, and grief over something they could not remember despite how hard it tried.

It stopped after running for god knows how long, in front of a window that emulates a warm, yellow glow.

The creature usually avoided light, after trying several times and realised that light irritated it to no end. But something about the white curtains flowing behind the window still beckoned for it to go closer like fire calling to the moths.

Something in it erupted when you appeared in the room, the sickeningly sweet scent filling its nostrils and tugging at something deep inside.

There was a strange sense of familiarity, and despite there being nothing about you in its empty brain, it just knew that you belonged to it one way or another.

It must have you.

Like the moths, the creature would stop at nothing just to feel warmth again.

You were too afraid to scream when the large, shadowy monster lurched from the corner of your room, and everything else was a blur from there.

You were stunned, completely, and it took you many seconds of your ears ringing to register the situation you were in. The fabrics that once covered your body were torn to shreds under its monstrous claws, the dull ache it left on your skin making soundless shrieks left your throat when it dug its fingers into your supple flesh. The back of your head hurt from when it knocked you onto the floor, the saliva from its glaring teeth dripping onto your face as its hot breath fanned your face, the puffs of air coming from behind its snarling mouth and long, long tongue.

Your heart was pounding inside your ribcage, fear and shock pulsing through your veins when you realised that you could not escape. It was massive, back hunched as it perched on top of you and caged you in without even trying. With each breath it took, the shadow on your walls grew bigger.

And its face, you could not bring up the courage to look at its face.

But when you fought back your primal instinct to shut your eyes tight and look, something in you clicked.

There was nothing alike between the person who appeared in your head and the monster in front of you. But something in its eyes, behind the darkness, reminded you of someone who you tried your hardest not to think about when the nights were late and you felt weak.

No, it could not be. Every single fibre of your being told you that it was impossible, but something in your heart, something that echoed through your brain past logic and reason, told you that it was him.

Blood receded from your face at the thought, hoping you were wrong more than anything else.

"Jason...?"

And to your dread, it let out a chest-ripping whale at the name that was so familiar yet so strange on your tongue like a dagger was stabbed through its ears just from hearing it.

You wanted to cry, not from knowing your own fate, but from thinking about what your dead lover had gone through to become this.

Seeing tears run down your face did something to it and it— he, paused for a brief second as something that resembled panic rose within.

But the roaring desire to mark you, to take you surpassed the budding humanity that was starting to appear, which it strongly disliked.

You bit back at the taste of acid in your mouth when it shoved its tongue inside your cavity, almost gagging at how far it managed to reach as it greedily took in your scent. It was near explosive in its head, and the more it got, the more it wanted. Large hands groped and dragged along your now naked torso, rough and merciless as it felt you all over.

Drool was leaking from the corner of your lips as you gasped for air, lightheaded and coughing when it finally pulled away from your mouth to lick a long strip up your vulnerable, exposed neck. If it bite down, it could break you in an instant, you were sure of it, yet the possibility of death was not even the scariest thing you could think of at this point.

The heat left your face when it grabbed you by the back of your thighs, pushing both of them up with just one hand until your knees were pressing against your chest.

You could not even see through your tear-stained vision, but the hardness pressed up against your cunt was unmistakable, and you could feel the angry vein as it rocked against your hips. You gulped, dreading the wetness you felt as it pushed your folds apart with its terrifying girth, the leaking head brushing at the inside of your thighs as it growled in animalistic fever.

You finally screamed when it pushed itself inside of you, your eyes seeing white as you were stretched behind your humanly limits by its massive, bulging cock.

Your back arched involuntarily, hitting the cold floor under you as it pushed, and pushed deeper and deeper inside. It hurt, and tears gushed out when it was still going deeper even though you thought it was not possible until it was resting deep inside your belly. Your stomach must be bulging from just his cock snuggling deep inside your womb, the shape prominent against your walls as you winced and sniffled.

It let out a beastly grunt at the tightness, with nothing but the sole thought to breed and fill up the tiny body under it. A loud smack followed with each thrust it took, heavy balls slapping against your ass every time it hilted deep against your cervix. The burning in your walls became numb after a few hard strokes, your insides accumulating it slowly to your surprise and against your wishes.

You tried to shut your eyes tight so you could imagine that it was him instead, but the monster left you no room to escape with each piston jolting your eyes open to acknowledge reality.

You had prayed for him to come back many times, but this was nothing but a sick joke fate had played on you if this was how they decided to answer your wishes.

It filled you with dread when it stopped being unbearable halfway through and you felt the heat pooling up in the pit of your stomach. "No, no—," you plead, not to the creature but to yourself, "I'm gonna... I'm— please... please!"

Your face flared up in shame at the unmistakable signs of your own climax, wetness gushing out and the sloppy noise filling your ears. To think that your body even reacted to this in the slightest was worst than the reality that you were having your brains fucked out by something so ghastly.

How would he have felt? To know that he was trapped being something so disgusting you could barely look at and yet, you still cum from its cock like some broken slut?

It howled when the sweet scent of your orgasm filled its head, panting and grumbling as thick strings of white filled up your spasming walls. It kept cumming and cumming, yet it did not stop. With each thrust into your abused hole, you could feel its length pushing out the cum from your cunt and pooling onto the floor.

Still sensitive from your high, the soundless moans stuck at the back of your throat while it kept fucking your overstimulated hole. At this point, you could only lay there lifelessly as it forced its way back in again and again, your stomach so full of its release that you might just finally break.

Your vision had turned black by the time it was done, head lolled to the side while your limbs twitched. Pulling out its half-limp cock, cum gushed out from your puffed-up cunt that fluttered around nothing, still so full the second before.

The creature stared at your fucked up body as it took in the salty scent lingering in the air. It felt warm in the chest for a brief second as it watched you, feeling something tugged at what was deep within.

It did not know what it was when it felt something wet running down its void-like eyes.

Only that hollowness that followed each heave of its chest hurt beyond measure.

#~oh the feminine urge to be fucked by something big and scary~#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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bethanythebogwitch · 9 months

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I talked before about fish Pokemon and that was great, but it's not the only mon series I like. So fuck it, fish Digimon time. This will definitely be less analytical and more me gushing about Digimon I like because I may be a bit out of it right now. Also sorry if I missed any.

Starting at rookie/child level we only have one fish but why would we need more when we have Swimmon?

Loot at it, it's amazing! It's some some sort of tropical fish, obviously, but with some embellishments, like the beak full of teeth. I love how colorful and pointy it is. It works great as a rookie for so many aquatic lines. I think some great lines for it would be Swimmon -> Coelamon -> Piranimon -> MetalPiranhimon or Swimmon -> Tobiumon -> DIvemon -> Surfimon. Speaking of which...

I'm going over champion/adult Digimon together and starting with Coelamon.

It's a coelacanth! Coelacanths are amazing as some of the last lobe-finned fish. In this case, the lobes have been exaggerated into proper limbs, like how lobe-finned fish are the ancestors of tetrapods through intermediate limbed fish stages like tiktaalik. Its armor might also be based on placoderms, extinct fish with bony armor.

We have surprisingly few shark Digimon, but one we do have is Tobiumon, and it's amazing.

A shark with arms that can fly with its fins is such a Digimon concept that all it needs are some guns to be peak Digimon. It even has a remora missile launcher on its chest!

The armor Digimon give us several fish, and while I don't think any of them particularly work as armor evolutions, they're fine as Digimon on their own. And before anyone mentions it, Tylomon is a tylosaurus, not a fish. The first is Manbomon, and while it's a terrible armor evolution for Patamon, A mola mola wearing boxing gloves is such a goofy concept I can't help but love it.

Next is Seahomon, which is pretty obviously a seahorse, but its snout is a trumpet and it has a cape that turns into wings I guess? I dunno, it's a pretty weird one.

My favorite of the three is Mantaraymon. Despite the name, it doesn't have a manta ray's face, instead having a rostrum like a shovelnose ray or even maybe a dolphin. I do like how they used Patamon's ears as the cephalic fins.

Mantaraymon also has a more mechanical X-antibody variant that gives it kind of a stealth fighter vibe. I kind of like it more than the original Mantaraymon, which is saying something since I usually don't like X-antibody Digimon.

Moving onto the ultimate/perfect level we have a new mon from China, Huankunmon.

I love this design so much. Its based on the peng, a mythical creature that can turn from a bird to a fish. Fittingly, Huankunmon's line goes from a bird (Xiquemon) and goes to a bird/fish/dragon hybrid (Xiangpengmon). It'a also based on a flying fish since it can fly with a swimming motion. And it can turn invisible. There's nothing not to love about it.

Next is Piranimon, and look at this absolute beast

Some might call it overdesigned, but I absolutely love it. I particularly dig the tail being a fish hook covered in barbed wire. Its based on a red-bellied piranha, but the pop-culture version where they're bloodthirsty monsters that attack everything they see. Real piranhas are not like that. The helmet it wears may also be based on placoderms, some of which only had the bone armor on the front of their bodies.

Finally at this level, we have Divemon.

I'm not as big of a fan of this as I am of the other two, but I do like the Polynesian-style tattoos it has. Its a combination hammerhead shark and professional swimmer.

Maxing out at the mega/ultimate level we have MetalPiranimon.

While I appreciate any fish megas, I think this is a step down from Piranhimon. It's just a red-bellied piranha with a big metal head dragging around a counterweight. I'm not saying its bad, I'm just saying that Piranhimon is better. Fun fact, Metalpiranhimon came first. Piranhimon was designed because someone thought it was weird that there's a MetalPiranhimon but no regular Piranhimon. There are a few examples of that in Digimon, like SkullBaluchimon coming before Baluchimon.

Next is Regalecusmon, which might be stretching the definition of fish a bit, but it does have an oarfish for a head.

I really like this design, especially it using Zudomon's horn as a sword and what looks like Ebidramon's claw as a shield. I think it would make a great villain for an aquatic episode or storyline of a show. Maybe like a more modern version of MetalSeadramon from Adventure.

Finally, we have Surfimon.

It's a mechanical shark man riding a rocket-powered hammerhead shark surfboard with a buzzsaw on the front. We have reached peak Digimon, people. And even better, it was created by a fan as part of a contest. Frankly, it's a shame that it hasn't gotten any appearances in the anime or games. I don't get why some fan-made Digimon can go onto have major appearances like Dobermon, Cyberdramon, and SoundBirdmon while others get ignored. A lot of them don't even have art. I'd be pretty bummed if I was a kid who won a contest to have my design become official and then it was never used. I think Surfimon should get an anime appearance and the English dub should make it talk like a Californian surfer dude.

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honestlywtfisgoingon · 2 years

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You’re My Moon — An Obi-Wan Kenobi Fall Fic

OBI-WAN KENOBI x READER

description: you and obi-wan are sent to a planet during their annual masked festival where they celebrate the moons, a perfect date for two jedi secretly in love.

warnings: language, alcohol, smut, minimal editing, creepy guy (yes he’s a zabrak bc maul) obi-wan’s rat tail slander

a/n: ok no surprise the “masked festival” is supposed to be halloween lol. this is 1/4 fall fics that i’ve planned tho and i’m kinda hyped. also i don’t usually write for padawan obi but it just felt?? so right?? also the smut is a lil rough for obi bc i imagine young him to be a lil more, well, rough lol. i’m sry if this particular fic is mid tho i had to deliver a speech, take tests, basic time-consuming college shit yk the drill

words: 4156

"What about this one?" you looked back at Obi-Wan dramatically, your brown robe swishing around. He looked up from the display of masks to see you holding one up to your face.

"not a big fan of the uh," he stepped forward, "the horns," he touched the tip of the pointy horns that extended out. "can't kiss you without being stabbed," he lifted the bottom of the mask up to reveal your true face, the one he had grown to know so well that not even a mask could hide you from him. He leaned forward to give you a small kiss, but you batted him away.

"Obi, no! We're still in our robes," you urgently whispered. You were clearly in Jedi garb, and the few on the planet who knew about the Jedi also knew that two of them shouldn't be kissing each other. He sighed, knowing you were right but still buzzing with anticipation for tonight. He was going to parade you around in, well, an actual parade.

It was luck that sent you to this small planet on the very week they reserved as an extended holiday to celebrate their three moons. They held a festival for each moon; tonight was the first of them. In the past, it was common practice to use face paint or a mask to decorate the face with lunar symbols and motifs. Over many years, the tradition became an opportunity to dress up and disguise yourself as whatever you liked, moon-related or otherwise.

The masks, plus the fact that the neutral planet was relatively unfamiliar with Jedi, made this the perfect date for the two of you. The only thing that could give you away was your braids, but their image of you only included robes and a saber, making Obi-Wan look less like a Jedi and more like someone who just had a stupid haircut. You were far from anyone who would let your relationship get to the council. There was Qui-Gonn, who you suspected would keep your secret, rebellious master as he was. But Obi-Wan was still nervous as his padawan, so it overjoyed him when he realized he would have the ability to hide from him among the throng of mask-wearers if need be. You were working on Obi-Wan being a little less uptight, but being the prudent Jedi he was, he needed a foolproof plan not to get caught on your date, and he had found one.

"As if robes have ever stopped us before," he whispered in your ear before stepping back with a little smirk. You resisted the urge to rip his off then and there. There was something about how he acted so cocky that both pissed you off…and completely turned you on. Perhaps it was the knowledge that when he was a show-off in front of your peers before you were together, the only one he was really trying to impress was you. It could also be that this trait made it so easy to rile him up before he touched you. Maker forbid you show even the slightest bit of satisfaction after he's made you see stars. He only sees it as a challenge and guarantees you won't be able to walk the next day. You would never let him know the effect he had on you in this way, but of course, he could tell anyway, but you liked to pretend he didn't in order to save your pride. You didn't want to admit that with only a particular voice, he could have you on your knees in front of the damn council if he wished.

To preserve any sense of self-control you had left, you merely rolled your eyes and went back to rifling through the racks of the little shop. You stopped when your eyes landed on the black fabric. With a flourish, you pulled it off the hanger along with the mask it came with and held the sheer black robe over your body to show Obi.

His brows rose a little in shock when he saw you. He definitely was a fan; his…approval was made very obvious through the force as you held the matching intricate black mask up to your face and batted your lashes at him.

"I'm going to wear something under it, Obi," you clicked your tongue. He threw his hands up with a little shrug as if he wasn't just screaming his fantasy of you in the sheer robe and nothing else in your heads. Maker, he was such a teenage boy—and you loved him.

Eventually, he found a mask that he liked, but when he showed you, you let out a little sigh at how predictable he was.

"You really don't know how to wear any other color besides brown, huh?"

"It's my color,"

"It's the standard color," you plucked it from his hands, refusing to let him go to a festival looking like a brown paper bag. He huffed in disappointment, not really enjoying shopping anymore.

Now desperate to leave, he was willing to compromise with you when you found a blue mask that you thought complimented his eyes. with a new robe to complete the look, you thought he looked quite debonair. What really sold him was when you told him he looked very handsome. His blush stood out clearly, even underneath his mask. For all his outer confidence, part of him always yearned for affirmation from you and Qui-Gonn, the two people who mattered most to him.

—

Night finally fell, and the moons had risen high in the sky. The people's laughs and shouts of celebration rose almost higher outside the hotel Qui-Gonn had found. You giggled as you stumbled out of the window Obi and you were trying to sneak out through. He shushed you aggressively, but he wore the same giddy smile you did. Once your boots finally met the ground with a thump, you took off and left Obi to run after you. His momentum caused him to run into you when you stopped abruptly in front of the market square. You lurched forward, but he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you up, keeping one arm around you even after you became stable. He wasn't keen on chasing you again.

Pulling down your masks, you laced your hands together and joined the crowd. It was a bit annoying bumping into everyone you passed by in the crowd, but it was easy not to get past it when their joy began to infect you. You spotted a lively cantina down the way and began to make your way toward it before Obi-Wan held you back. If the two of you were walking into a cantina, he would make sure you ate first. He would carry you to the ends of the galaxy, let alone back to the hotel if need be, but he'd rather not have to at all. Before touching a single drop of anything, he worked his way over to a stand, keeping you in front of him the whole way.

The man in charge was also masked and greeted you in the native language. You and Obi just looked at each other helplessly, to which the man laughed. The two of you were relieved when he switched to basic.

"What'll you have?" He pointed to the different array of skewers, "roasted porg, roast nuna, deep fried gorb…"

"Three of the nuna please," Obi-wan handed the man some credits while he wrapped up the skewers. You gave him a confused look when he said three.

"Two of them are for you. You'll get hungry later," He smiled at you. It was rather sweet how he always thought ahead, knowing you well. You gave him a little peck on his shoulder that you were already leaning on.

"Enjoy yourselves! Don't get a lot of humans out here, especially young ones in love" the man smiled brightly at the two of you when he handed the two of you your skewers. Obi found a streetlight with a large raised base, enough for the two of you to sit on while you ate. You got comfortable sitting between his legs, leaning your back against his chest while he kicked his feet hanging off the edge of the base like a little kid.

Damn, this is delicious

Apparently, you were already pretty hungry, finishing both of the skewers while you laid back, and people-watched for a while. You saw parents chase after their kids who dashed to the people giving out candy, vendors hanging up their aprons to join in with the festivities, and even some fights, which were quickly broken up. No one was allowed to ruin the night.

Once you realized Obi was getting a little too comfortable, feeling his body slump slightly against the lamppost, you tugged his robe, signaling for him to get up. You were on his way to the cantina as soon as he was on his feet again. The music was blaring inside, and the colored lights roamed over the more adult crowd than outside. You were lucky enough to have snagged a table that had just opened up, so you sent Obi off with your drink order and a kiss while you saved the seats that were so coveted in the busy club.

"This seat taken?" A Zabrak man put his hands on the table's edge and leaned over.

"Yeah, it is, sorry," you answered politely. He didn't seem creepy or rude like most men at bars you were always wary of.

"Well, whoever they are, I don't see 'em," he leered.

And there it was. Spoke too soon.

"I didn't ask if you could see them. You asked me if the seat was taken, and it is." You said bluntly, firmly placing your hand on the table to emphasize your point.

"Well, is the pretty little woman taken too?" He pulled out Obi-Wan's seat and sat in it.

The fuck he just said?

"She is, so you better leave," you gritted your teeth, fingers dancing along the handle of your lightsaber.

"Oh, but baby, I'm only leaving if you're coming with me,"

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan appeared next to you, placing the drinks down on the table. With his hands now relieved, he placed one on your shoulder and the other over his lightsaber, never taking his eyes from the Zabrak's once.

"You're not invited," the man huffed.

"You should leave. Now." Obi-Wan said firmly. You could tell the man was weighing his options on whether to leave or not. He took a step back when he saw the look in Obi-Wan's eyes, but not before he got in his last word.

"Well, she was asking for it in that dress."

Oh no.

Just like that, Obi-Wan had his lightsaber drawn and held up to the man's neck. Some of the people around you gasped and backed up. The man slowly backed away when Obi pressed his saber closer, breathing heavily with anger. Your hand wrapped around your saber as well.

"No fights in this cantina! Not tonight!" A short man, the owner, you assumed, shouted as he made his way into the ring of people that had formed around Obi and that absolute asshole. It took some time for Obi to calm himself enough to deactivate his saber. When he did, the man looked at you, then back at Obi with a sneer before storming off in the other direction.

While Obi-Wan's narrowed eyes trailed after the man, your head fell slightly.

"Was I really asking for it?"

"What? No." His face melted into one of soft concern. “Your dress isn't even that short—but that's not even the point. Even if you wore half of what you've got on right now, you said no. He was asking for me to chop off his head,"

I love you, Obi-Wan.

You stood up abruptly and stepped towards Obi-Wan Your face was filled with an emotion a little less…wholesome as you grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a rough kiss.

"What was that for?" He looked down at you once your lips parted, cheeks glowing red from the altercation and your affections.

"I just wanted to thank you."

"I'm still sorry though, y/n,"

"Don't be. I could've taken him by myself, though," You teased, "besides, it was…well, it was hot," His brows raised.

"Hot?" He questioned you.

"Yeah. Hot. You were ready to end that guy just because he was hitting on me,"

"Well, I—"you were feeding his cockiness once again.

"Don't let it get to your head," You laughed and sat back down, and he followed your actions with his seat.

You could only manage to have a small conversation; your voices were drowned out by the blasting music. You downed your cocktail, realizing there wasn't much point in sitting down if you couldn't even talk. As soon as the liquid poured down your throat, it hit you. You grimaced at the taste. It was a good thing this was a seasonal drink. It was way too intense to have daily. As your mouth naturally washed out the flavor, you watched while Obi-Wan finished his drink. He started hacking when he took his first sip, causing you to laugh. It really was strong stuff. As soon as he swallowed the last drop, you pulled him over to where the dancing was.

Obi-Wan wasn't a big dancer, but with a bit of liquid courage and a lot of love for you, he moved along to the music like everyone else. The lack of space had you two pressed against each other, not that you minded. That was what tonight was for, anyway. You had gone out often with other padawans, danced and drank just as you had, but not like this. You could never have your arms wrapped around each other openly, always ensuring there was an appropriate amount of space between you. Everything you were doing right now was taboo, the masks ironically the very thing that made it, so you did not have to hide.

Obi-Wan's hands slipped from your waist to grip your hips as you moved them to the fast music. They didn't stop there, dropping even further down to rest slightly on your ass. You responded by spinning around to press your ass against him, feeling him grow harder under the flashing lights as you grinded on him. One of your arms rose behind you to play with the hair on the nape of his neck as you continued dancing. Both of you were enjoying this time immensely, the alcohol causing every part of you to vibrate deliciously. But you started to overheat even in your sheer robe and the small black dress underneath.

When Obi-Wan felt his mask start to stick from sweat, you both gave each other a look that meant it was time to take a break. When you got back to the table, hand in hand, it was already taken. You'd forgotten what a hot commodity seating was, but you were still desperate for a rest. Obi-Wan nodded his head to the door, and the two of you stepped out, the cool air hitting you in refreshing waves. You leaned against the wall of the side of the building, catching your breath. When your heads rolled to the side so you could look at each other, you began to laugh.

This was your first real night together without the code on your mind. No council, no Jedi, not even Qui-Gonn around to recognize you. You were just…people. You could feel Obi-Wan's mind wandering in that direction, as it did every so often. He imagined what it would be like if you left the order, got married, and even had a family. The images he shared with you were beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn't take it. Your force told him to stop, that it wasn't the time. Thinking about that now would only make the two of you sad, and you wanted to enjoy this moment. He nodded to you in understanding, his mind moving to a very different sort of fantasy.

He was still hard from the dance floor and wanted nothing more than to remedy that by pulling up your little dress and making you cum all over him. Quite a change from his previous family-oriented thoughts, but this time you didn't tell him to stop; you told him to continue, to do exactly what he wanted to do.

It didn't take him any time to lead you and push you up against the wall in the alley behind the club. He grasped the hair at the base of your scalp and close to yanked it so that your face tilted up for him to place a heated kiss on your lips. You couldn't help but let out a little whimper at the delicious sting of your hair being pulled. It was only fair that you returned the favor by tugging at the hair that was just long enough to do so. He moaned into your mouth at your actions, only spurring him on further. He moved down to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin he had already claimed a long time ago.

"No marks,"

"It was one time. And an accident," he mumbled against your jaw. Cutting your little dialogue short, he slipped his hand under your dress dress to cup your cunt, feeling you dripping through the fabric that covered it. He dragged his middle finger, finding the little dip where your entrance was. He circled it with the tip of his finger, making your eyes flutter and mouth sigh. It was a light feeling of pleasure, but Obi always liked the element of surprise and suddenly shoved two fingers into you, your underwear still on. Already soaked through, it didn't stop him at all. The slight friction of the fabric rubbing against your clit every time he pumped you made your mouth drop open. Stooped slightly to have access, Obi-Wan was now leveled with you and used direct eye contact to strengthen your connection through the force. His lids went heavy, experiencing a bit of what you were feeling. He also felt your growing desperation for him to do something more, and he loved nothing more than to humor you. Strong, calloused hands gripped your hips before slipping under the edge of your dress to pull it up while gliding along your silhouette simultaneously. Not wanting to waste any time, you slipped your hands past the band of his underwear, wrapping your hand around his shaft and palming him up and down, feeling the veins throbbing with blood rushing in arousal. He let out a groan, capturing your lips roughly. When he pulled back to pull down his pants, he reached up with one hand to lift his mask. You grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"Can you, uh, keep the mask on?" You asked, looking down a bit in slight embarrassment.

"Why?" He tilted your chin to let you know you didn't have to hide. He left the mask alone, indulging you but still not exactly understanding the reasoning behind your request.

"It's kind of mysterious," You bit your lip, still a little shy.

He suddenly removed his hands from you, "Sorry, mystery woman, I have a girlfriend," You couldn't help but laugh as you pulled his hands back to cup your face, the rest of him following in for a kiss. You went back to fumbling with his pants, finally pulling him out. You wrapped your hand up and down on his dick, spreading the precum dripping from the tip, red and rock hard. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs, running them up and down a few times to tell you to be ready to jump. The two of you used a combination of actual jumping and the force so that you were lifted with your legs tightly secured around his waist. With his forearms against the wall behind you, his robe draped perfectly around the two of you, a little pocket in this world created just for the two of you to feel each other. You always loved this little moment, just before he entered you, where you saw the flicker of love in his eyes no matter how soft or rough it was going to be. With a groan, he slid in easily, both of your foreheads pressed together in the pleasured reaction. As soon as he bottomed out, a feeling you'd never get used to with his size, he began to fuck you fast. Obi-Wan was never one for quickies. Sex had meaning to him, and he liked to savor it. That's not to say this didn't mean anything to him, but maybe it was the alcohol or the adrenaline from sneaking out that had him entering you hard and fast. Hitting all the right spots inside of you, this was a treat far fucking better than candy. You shared open-mouthed kisses, your movements desperate and wild. Heavy breaths accompanied each thrust; his dick pressed tight inside your walls as you began to pulse around him. The air was crisp and cold, but the shelter of his robe was filled with the heat of sex. You pulled your knees closer to you just slightly, but the mere inch of new access you gave him had you crying out his name. More moans fell out of your mouth freely before you tried to silence them into his shoulder. He shifted one arm so that he could use his hand to cup your jaw, moving your face so you could see him.

"That’s it, that's it. When you come, I want you to be loud. Don't worry, they won't hear you, but I will, and I want to hear you shouting for me," it was true. The music and people would drown you out completely, freeing you to let out what Obi-Wan said was his favorite sound in the world. You obeyed, letting out each swear and moan that he worked out of you. He knew you were close when you began to chant his name until you couldn't manage to chant anything. Every syllable encouraged him to fucking up into you, filling you up repeatedly. You felt him in your stomach and against your cervix.

"That's a good girl, taking all of me like that," He praised you in a low voice. Obi-Wan's eyes were hooded, his pupils almost blacking out the striking blue of his irises. Your head rolled back, and your mouth dropped open. At this opportunity, he painted your neck with quick kisses. You felt his thrusts grow erratic, and his head fall into the crook of your neck with a groan. With your last bit of bodily control, you tightened your legs around him to pull him close.

For a moment, you were so lost in pleasure that you thought the fireworks that suddenly exploded in the night sky above was your imagination. It might as well have been, for your connected forces created an explosion between your bodies as you reached your peak together. You gushed all over him while he simultaneously filled you up with his hot cum. It was hard to distinguish between what you were feeling and what he was feeling. Maybe there wasn't. Maybe the feeling of your toes curling and your nerves flaring as you screamed his name out into the night air was shared. Maybe the spasming of muscles and the rush of euphoria that drowned your senses was truly a one in the same experience with the force.

When the final wave of mingled ecstasy washing over the two of you ebbed, you couldn't even tell the difference between who was dripping out of you, either. He stayed in you just a moment, holding you close just a little longer.

He placed a small kiss by your ear before letting you down slowly. After he tucked himself back in and you had smoothed down your dress, the two of you shared a look and began to giggle like the teenagers you were. He slung his arm around you, leaving another one of his small kisses on the top of your head with an exhausted sigh.

“You know what, you’re my moon,”

“Such a sap,”

“No, really. I’m going to celebrate you for the rest of my life,”

“I’d like that,”

“I love you, y/n. Always,”

“I love you too,”

You leaned on his shoulder as the two of you headed dazedly out of the alley and into the party again. You weren't going to let your night's worth of freedom end just yet.

#star wars #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan smut #obi wan kenobi smut #padawan!obi wan #padawan obi wan kenobi #obi wan halloween #star wars halloween #star wars smut

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tlonista · 4 months

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Astarion fic recs, Batch 2

Thanks so much to everyone who had kind words for my Astarion fic rec list! My habit continues unabated so I wanted to throw out another little batch of mostly recent, mostly hurt/comfort-oriented Astarion-centric fanfic that I liked. As before there's references to Astarion's past abuse and assault so mind the AO3 tags.

Anyway happy holidays fellow pale elf fans, pls tip me off if you watched the latest Larian animated short and felt moved to write about shivering blanket-wrapped Astarion sitting on Karlach's lap.

Incomplete Multi-Chapter:

The Friends We Meet in the Dark by Copaline

Astarion is captured by monster hunters while spiraling over how to earn Tav's affections. Second in a series, but can be read standalone; one of two chapters posted. Big fan of its protective f!Tav, and there's some fun banter with the rest of the gang.

I Don't Know You Yet by thbreakofdawn

Nicely executed modern Bloodweave social media (text messages and Twitter) AU. Astarion is a sex worker and Gale is a grad student struggling with his relationship to his girlfriend Mystra, and they strike up a text-only friendship after a random connection. Very effective use of the multimedia format.

If the Cross on the Door Doesn't Scare You by Aylwyyn228

Sweet, angsty "Astarion starves in the Shadow-Cursed Lands because he's too scared to ask for blood" fic with the added turn of Gale guessing exactly what's happening, but being too toxic-blooded to actually help unless Astarion tells the others about his vampirism.

a half-blown rose by winter_writes

Astarion's "Tav didn't kill Cazador" dialogue in the Patch 5 Epilogue is one of the saddest things in the game, and I'm so excited to see writers running with it. In this fic Astarion was recaptured by Cazador post-game and then finally freed thanks to a fire... but he's terribly injured in the aftermath and ashamed to have his ex-lover see him. Only one chapter so far but I'm a big fan.

death by rock & roll by falco_c

This hasn't been updated in a while and Astarion hasn't actually appeared in it yet, but I'm throwing it in as a bonus because I really love its Almost Famous-y music industry AU vibe. Its translation of the tadpole ensemble into rock-and-roll burnouts, featuring in-world interviews, is absolutely delightful.

One-Shots:

Untitled by trulycertain (Tumblr-only)

It's spawn Astarion realizing he can turn into a bat and flying around and getting tired with Tav around, that's it, that's the fic. Completely adorable fluff. But "Is this what it’s meant to be like? Being a spawn? Not a starved slave?" kills me.

Family by sword_and_lance

Astarion goes to see his family after being turned, and Cazador cements his control over Astarion by offering him some scraps of comfort in the painful aftermath. It's short and restrained and chilling and so so sad.

Pointy Ears by SpaceBarbarianWeird

Yes another fluffy fic, what am I coming to. But who doesn't want to read about Astarion rediscovering trust by letting Tav touch his sensitive pointy ears with some brief digressions into elven social norms and gift-giving.

Complete Multi-Chapter:

Desperate Measures by Asidian

One of the fics that inspired "If the Cross" above, and one of my favorite "Astarion in the Shadow-Cursed Lands" pieces. Very good at balancing a sympathetic take on the character with him being, like canon Astarion, deceptive and a little bit abrasive when cornered. Plus bonus fun with Scratch.

this is a gift (it comes with a price) by ryttu3k

A post-game Ascended Astarion fic in which AA is literally soulless and knows it, and his sometimes-lover Duke Wyll Ravengard discovers over a series of nighttime visits that he secretly hates it. One of my favorite Ascension fics in part because, intentionally or not, it feels weirdly true to the experience of depressive anhedonia?

The Light of the Seven by Verelia

@reddenmore mentioned this one in the tags on my last fic rec list and I wholeheartedly agree; it's a real good Szarr Spawn Family character study delving into the backstory and personality of each of Cazador's "children," including Astarion.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fic recs

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skz-sarang · 5 months

Text

“ she looks just like a dream , the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen . ”

i. basics : you must know

꒰ ✰ birth name ༉ Xu Xiang Mei ( 徐香梅 )

꒰ ✰ korean name ༉ Kim Sarang ( 신 사랑 )

꒰ ✰ english name ༉ Kim Love

꒰ ✰ stage name ༉ Lovey

꒰ ✰ nicknames ༉ Sari , Sasa , Sangy , Sunny , Kimchi , Meimei ( from the other children in the foster family ) , Xixi ( from the biological mother ), Luv , Lulu , Lovey-dovey ( from the older brother ), Love ( mostly from the mother or other very close people like other members ), Lovy , Bubbles ( from the other members, especially 3RACHA ) , Shortie ( from Hyunjin ) , Angel ( from her father ) , Kitty/Kitten ( from Lee Know ) , JYP’s happy virus ( from the staff, other idols of the agency and JYP itself) , Fairy ( korean and international fans ) , Korea’s Aegiya / Korea’s doll ( literally ‘Korea’s baby’ , from Korean fans )

꒰ ✰ birthday ༉ october 28th , 2001

꒰ ✰ zodiac sign ༉ scorpio

꒰ ✰ chinese sign ༉ snake

꒰ ✰ age ༉ 22 years - International / 23 years - korean age

꒰ ✰ birth place ༉ Nanchang , China

꒰ ✰ hometown ༉ Seoul , Korea

꒰ ✰ current residence ༉ Seoul , Korea

꒰ ✰ ethnicity ༉ chinese / korean

꒰ ✰ nationality ༉ chinese / korean

꒰ ✰ languages ༉

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & cantonese & mandarin — ( native ) 100%

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & korean — ( native ) 100%

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & english — ( fluent ) 94%

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & japanese — ( learning ) 57%

“ and when you smiles , the whole world stops and stares for a while . ”

ii. physical : look check

꒰ ✰ gender ༉ female

꒰ ✰ height ༉ 155 cm / 5’1

꒰ ✰ weight ༉ 44 kg / 97 lbs

꒰ ✰ blood tipe ༉ 0 negative

꒰ ✰ hair color ༉ naturally brown , currently honey blonde

꒰ ✰ eye color ༉ chocolate brown

꒰ ✰ body modifications ༉ 9 tattoos , 13 ear piercings

꒰ ✰ notable features ༉ has adorable dimples on her cheeks when she smiles, small waist , pointy nose , tiny hand and feet , two moles just below her left eye, a small heart-shaped birthmark on the upper right side of the abdomen, a small scar on her right knee for a fall on a small bike , cat-alike big eyes , gummy smile.

꒰ ✰ claims ༉

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & face — unknown

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & voice — Eunchae of lesserafim ( korean ) ; Xiaoying of kep1er ( chinese ) ; Danielle of new jeans ( english ) ; Sana of twice ( japanese )

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & laugh — Ariana Grande

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & vocal — Winter ( aespa ) / Ariana Grande

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & rap — Asa ( baby monster )

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & dance — Chaeryeong ( itzy )

“ They judge me like a picture book by the colors , like they forgot to read ”

iii. personal : who am I ?

꒰ ✰ pronouns ༉ she / her

꒰ ✰ sexual orientation ༉ heterosexual

꒰ ✰ relationship status ༉ Undisclosed

꒰ ✰ MBTI type ༉ mediator ( INFP )

꒰ ✰ positive traits ༉ empathetic, sweet, affectionate, sunny, helpful, intuitive, determined , passionate , loyal , caring.

꒰ ✰ negative traits ༉ diffidential , stubborn , people-pleasing , anxious , accommodative , sensitive , overly stressed , indecisive , fragile , picky eater.

꒰ ✰ personal mannerism ༉ tilts her head when confused ; pouting when she's unfocused ; biting her bottom lip ; fidgets with the closest thing to her hands (rings, bracelets, necklaces pendants, her fingers, someone else's fingers, ect.) when anxious, nervous, upset, lying or sometimes just out of habit ; happy-dance when she eats something she particularly likes ; crack her and others fingers, her neck, her back, her wrists.

꒰ ✰ medical conditions ༉ hypermetrepia ( -4 left eye / -2.5 right eye ) , anxiety disorders

꒰ ✰ phobias ༉ phonophobia ( fear of loud noises ), entomophobia ( fear of insects )

꒰ ✰ allergies ༉ peanuts, crustaceans

꒰ ✰ family ༉ biological father ( alive ) , biological mother ( alive ) , biological sister ( alive ) , biological sister ( alive ) , biological brother ( alive ) , adottive father ( alive ) , adottive mother ( alive ) , adottive brother ( alive ) , cat ( dead ) , cat ( alive ) , cat ( alive ) .

“ ‘cause you love me and I love you. ”

iv. career : professionalism is the key

꒰ ✰ profession(s) ༉ kpop idol , songwriter , actress

꒰ ✰ stage name ༉ lovey

꒰ ✰ label(s) ༉ sm entertainment ( 2015 - 2016 ) , jyp entertainment ( 2017 - current )

꒰ ✰ training period ༉ 1 year and 8 month / 7 month ( sm ent. ) 1 year and 1 month ( jyp ent. )

꒰ ✰ debut age ༉ 16 international age / 18 korean age

꒰ ✰ debut date ༉ march 25th , 2018

꒰ ✰ group ༉ stray kids

꒰ ✰ subunit ༉ vocal racha

꒰ ✰ position ༉ main vocal , lead dancer , center

꒰ ✰ representative emoji ༉ 🐱

꒰ ✰ skzoo ༉ ‘Lovangi ‘ , a combination of 고양이( goyangi ) and lovey , a white cat with orange and black spots .

꒰ ✰ individual fandom name ༉ lovers

“ you’re beautiful in every color or shade. ”

v. ranking : skills and strengths

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & vocal — 9 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & rap — 5 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & dance — 8.5 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & visual ( korean standards ) — 9 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & stage presence — 8.5 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & acting — 8 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & producing — 4 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & songwriting — 9 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & choreography — 6.5 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & public speaking — 7.5 / 10

ׁ ࣭ ⊹ & overall ranking — 84 / 100

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 1 year

Note

Can i request for a eyeless jack x fem reader hcs? thank you ♥️

Thank you for requesting!

TW!!!: Slight mentions of gore! If this topic triggers you, feel free to skip this post!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eyeless Jack x fem!reader

Ah yes, yet another silent yet loving type

He's kind of irritable though, so beware

Typically you can tell when he's in a bad mood though, so it's not horrible

His mouth tastes absolutely rancid

Since he eats pretty much anything and everything, especially human organs

So good luck making out with him

He loves kissing you though, so you'd have to get used to it anyways

Also mind the teeth

They're razor sharp, made for tearing flesh and meat

Sometimes when he's doing his daily routine of kissing you senseless anytime you so much as breathe, he'll nip you a bit

Wether that be with his claws or teeth, it happens

He feels horrible after

Sometimes 👀

He's absolutely terrible at washing himself, always covered in scabs from where he's scratched himself by accident while washing

Especially in his head

If you'd be willing to do it for him, he'd be ever so greatful

Scabs be no more

He's studied every medical science he can get his claws on

From surgical studies to psychology...

He's a total nerd, but he's your nerd

So expect him to just spew medical stuff at you randomly

"I was thinking maybe we can order a pizza for tonight?"

"Your use of the words 'I was thinking' and 'maybe' show a lack of confidence. As well as the want for pizza, rather than a healthier option, or even making your own pizza. You sound burnt out. Have you ever considered that you're depressed?"

"..."

He likes to cuddle you a lot, and nuzzle you

Mostly to get his scent on you

He marks you in a plethora of ways, fun fact

Oh and don't get me started on when you wear his clothes

He fully endorses it, btw

Encourages it, even

You basically don't even need your clothes anymore, because he's offered you so many of his

He also goes on runs a lot, so expect to wake up to him being gone, and him coming back filled with energy and covered in sweat

He smells like an old library and generic men's deodorant

(One of the very few who actually does wear deodorant fun fact)

He only really wears it because he sweats a lot more than average, and he gets hot really easily

I like to imagine that since the ritual was only half completed, he didn't grow all of the hair his species of demon normally has, so when he's scared or trying to look intimidating, only the hair on his head stands up as he hisses in warning

He thinks he looks so bad ass

He really just looks like he's gotten electrocuted, but you don't have the heart to tell him

His ears can move, which is another thing that gives away he's in a bad mood

Sometimes when you're feeling upset, he'll wiggle his ears to try and get you to laugh

He loves to hear your laugh

He adores it, really

He's a really big fan of classical music, and listens to it a lot as he's reading

He also loves to sit you in his lap as he reads, that way he knows where you are, and knows that you're safe

When he sleeps, he typically curls around you with a hand pressed to the back of your head

He has the ability to purr

You'll know he's in a particularly good mood if he comes up behind you, rubs your hips and hums

He's particularly fond of your hips, actually

He just thinks your whole form is so perfect

He literally thinks you're a goddess

He treats you like one too <3

He's kinda skinny and lanky

He gets kind of insecure about his demon-ness so just rub his big floppy ears and kiss his pointy nose and he'll be fine again

For the most part

Sometimes it's worse, and you have to just take his hand and lead him to the bed, laying him down and petting his head

Sing to him, please

He loves it when you sing

Even if you're totally tone deaf, he just loves to hear your voice

His tears are a black sticky substance his eyes seem to ooze on the regular

No one really knows what it is

BEN's eaten it once

It didn't taste good.

Ej laughed his ass off for a week after that one

BEN describes it as a mix of so spicy it tastes like fire and burnt dirt

Ej loves to lay face down on your stomach

And I mean face down

He literally won't breathe for like, 4 minutes

If you hear animalistic growling, simply pretend you didn't, walk in the opposite direction, and go about your day

That usually means Ej is feeding

And he loses control when he's feeding

So who knows what he would do if you weren't careful

#creepypasta #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #slender mansion #creepypasta x female reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x y/n #eyeless jack creepypasta #female reader

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