#maybe i should have toned down the cyan
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✿⚘❁⚘❀ Astilbe ❀⚘❁⚘✿
Fufufu after all these months, here’s another Herbarium epilogue with more dark fluff and comfort. It was nostalgic to write for Capitano and his darling again (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ
Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, psychological trauma, Stockholm Syndrome
♡ 1.2k words under the cut ♡
The astilbe’s beauty has faded.
The pressed flowers are only a phantom of the radiant clusters you picked weeks ago. The petals have lost their brilliance. The feathery plumes have been reduced to flat shapes.
This is a natural consequence of preservation, one which occurs to all of your flowers. So why do you feel particularly mournful for the astilbe?
Maybe the flowers aren’t the problem. Rather, it’s you.
Your wedding ring twinkles on your index finger, an unavoidable sight. The sculpted flowers serve as a constant reminder of your marital status, disregarding the fact that you and your captor never had an official ceremony.
Capitano…what time will he be home? You usually accompany him to Zapolyarny Palace but he decided against it today. Important business, he claimed.
Nonetheless, he treated you so kindly before his departure. He’d given your new guard a stern warning which, even in his formal tone, sounded more like a death threat. You received a soft kiss, some new books, a promise of his immediate return.
Your life has never been happier. So why are you still plagued with your bad days?
You are used to this feeling, the ever-present melancholy which has haunted you even before you met Capitano—those hours spent trapping flowers in your notebook, escaping reality through storybooks, reliving memories better left forgotten. Perhaps it is your subconscious upset with you, the double curse of your self-awareness and resignation.
How can you believe in his love, knowing it is a twisted delusion?
Despite this, you’ve never smiled more since the day you accepted your fate.
Since meeting Capitano, you even remembered how to cry. Compared to your past tears and “tantrums,” the action feels oddly cathartic nowadays. Like a call for help finally answered by your own devoted knight.
The sound of heavy footsteps interrupts your thoughts.
Your husband is home.
The door opens. Capitano enters the room.
“______, is everything well?”
“Capitano.” You leave your desk and meet him halfway. “Did you mi—how was work? You arrived earlier than usual.”
He feels warm. You lean into his embrace, letting him be the first to pull away. His hands remain on your waist.
“The new recruits show potential.” He looks down at you, face hidden by his mask. After a short pause, he adds, “Did you take kindly to Sergeant Naiad?”
“Cyane was all right,” you reply, shrugging. “They just kept quiet and watched me from a distance. They are nothing like Ceres, if that is what you’re asking.”
The change in his tone isn’t lost on you. “That is acceptable. Should they infringe on your personal boundaries, inform me at once.”
Is that even necessary? He already has his spies to monitor your behavior.
Your notebook is still open to the astilbe. Capitano walks over to your desk, keeping one hand on the small of your back.
“I presume that your astilbe has been fully preserved.” He taps the corner of the page, careful not to touch the pink and white flowers.
You make no motion to retrieve it. “Yes. They’re…not as pretty as when I first saw them. Or maybe that’s just my perception.”
He turns to face you. “If you desire more astilbe, we may revisit the botanical garden.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Shouldn’t this be enough? What more must he do for you?
“Which flowers do you want?” You return to your chair, feeling a familiar stab of guilt. “I’ll let you pick first this time.”
“My darling, what troubles you?”
Huh?
Capitano caresses your cheek this time.
“You are in low spirits,” he observes. Anger creeps into his tone, faint yet palpable. “Did you tell me the truth about Sergeant Naiad?”
You quickly nod. “I was! I just feel…it’s nothing, really! Nothing worth your trouble.”
He remains adamant. “I would be an inattentive husband if I fail to care for my wife.”
What kind of expression is on his face? Even with his face concealed, you don’t want to look at him. Anything to prevent him from perceiving your distress.
From your peripheral vision, an image catches your attention—a framed drawing on your desk, illustrated by the same artist who painted the family portrait in your living room.
-
“Such an odd couple,” they muttered.
You had to agree with them. With his mask and fine armor, Capitano was an intimidating subject. You, on the other hand, looked small and delicate in your lacy gown. But your close physical contact left no doubt that the two of you belonged to the same picture.
The artist spent more time on you. They took a while to capture your face, describing your gaze as a dim mystery. You didn’t mind; it meant more time in your husband’s arms.
During a short break, you faced Capitano to chat with him. That was when the artist froze, staring at you with renewed interest. A silent look from the former, however, was all it took for them to fearfully return to their canvas.
The finished portrait came with a small pencil sketch. You were looking at Capitano with bright eyes and a fond smile, unrecognizable even to yourself.
-
“______?” He holds your hand. His own ring twinkles above your interlocked fingers.
“I…It’s not important,” you insist. Despite yourself, you feel your heart racing for reasons not borne from fear. “I’ve dealt with this before. The issue will go away on its own.”
Foolish girl. Since when was your captor one to leave you alone?
Ever the patient man, Capitano kneels down to meet your gaze.
“One word from you, and I will do everything in my power to alleviate your sorrows,” he tells you. The soft declaration is juxtaposed by his firm grasp on your hand. “How could I be at peace when my beloved flower is in pain?”
Words fail you. You stare at your lap, gripping the armrest with your free hand. It is his next words, spoken with quiet resolution, which spell your defeat.
“But if you refuse to smile, that is also acceptable. I will stay by your side regardless.”
You give up.
At first, Capitano tenses when you throw your arms around him. The hesitation which follows—the way he carefully reciprocates your hug, measuring his strength…it only tugs at your heartstrings all the more.
“Thank you,” you whisper. Your eyes feel damp; are you crying? Your tears don’t match your mood at all.
What is there to worry about? Time and time again, your husband has proven his unwavering devotion to you.
Why should you torture yourself with the truth of your marriage? Freedom is nothing compared to this false happily ever after.
Who cares about the astilbe? You already have the most beautiful, eternal flowers wrapped around your finger.
Capitano’s heartbeat is comforting. He traps you in his embrace, rubbing circles on your back. You don’t need to see past his mask to know what tender emotions lie in his gaze.
“You’re welcome,” he says. He lifts your wrist to his mask, imparting a soft kiss on the back of your hand.
A small smile tugs at your lips. “I feel a bit better thanks to you.”
♡
Side Story ๑ Epilogue ๑ Another Comfort Fic
A few months ago, I started this fic cuz I was sad. And now that I’m less sad, I decided to finish it and cry over Capitano again. Aahh he and Damsel always put me in a soft mood TvT
Once again, thank you to @diodellet for your support as my bestie and peer reviewer. Last year, she actually wrote her own Herbarium-inspired comfort fic which I beta-read and linked above. Her smut is amazing and well-written, so pls check it out <3
Do share your thoughts on this fic!! And if you read the teaser for Astilbe, look at me in the eye and tell me that the Captain isn’t the best at comforting his darling ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡
Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @nicebonescomrades @harmonysanreads @ansy-tea @leftdestiny-posts @thescribeoflostmemories @kocherry @gum-iie @oofasleep @shumidehiro @ryo-ri @dulcetthorns @lambdrop @uhhhh-hi-im-sorry-for-this @the-dreaming-city @lyra-mew @yanmaresu @frogchiro @lcveaesop @micchikari
#il capitano#capitano#capitano x reader#yandere capitano x reader#yandere capitano#yandere fatui harbingers#fatui x reader#genshin x reader#yandere genshin#tw: yandere#tw: dark#fem reader#jessamine-writing
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Not used to posting things so fast- But the brain worms have infected me and @auspicioustidings concepts give me life. Once again- another from them, i felt contractually obligated to write this because my auntie is in Vegas for her birthday right now.
The concept in question
Not the after effects of waking up- but rather the proposal itself. This one’s short cause i pumped it out real quick. Just a little dabble.
————————
Ah Vegas. City of love. Wait no that was Paris- city of… sin? Well that sounded too much like a trashy YA romance novel for your tastes so- Vegas, City of…
Vegas: City!
God maybe you should lay off the M and M’s. Lavender and Bright cyan blue little things from the M and M factory are making you really taste the rainbow. Shit that was skittles catchphrase wasn’t it? Actually- did M and M’s even have a catchphrase other than the sexy brown M and M? Though that was less a phrase more a person. Er- candy. Chocolate.
Pah! You should have never gone to the M and M factory. Stupid little chocolate candy is making you think far more than you can handle right now.
Seriously it’s messing with your head. You’d better get rid of them.
You throw your M and M factory bag onto the floor, watching all the candies scatter the pavement in an explosion of color. That's why the pretty colors are so dangerous and not sold in the normal packs. They make people all loopy. Cause there’s no other reason you would be so outta sorts.
Except maybe the daiquiri you’d had. And the Manhattan. And those shots. And whatever that weird drink in a glowing lightbulb was.
Okay maybe it wasn’t the M and M’s.
Which means you just threw them out for nothing oh no! 20 dollars down the drain. And your M and M’s!
You whine mournfully over the loss, sinking to the ground dramatically and cradling one of the cyan shelled candies close.
“Is everything all… right?”
You barely register the voice- British and a bit rugged- before you are drunkenly rambling out-
“No- i thought my M and M’s were evil but they weren’t and i killed them for nothing!” You cry out, the words making you even more emotional, you pathetically sob, holding the cyan candy in your palms to your chest.
“Come back! Liveee please. Papa didn’t mean it i swear, i didn’t know what i was saying- you got me all tongue tied!”
“Hey-“
Oh british man has a very nice voice, so smooth and gentle, more than you were expecting.
“It’s alright love. We can get you some more candies.”
You sniffle.
“R-really?”
He smiles like some sort of teddy bear. Gentle and soft.
“Yes really. Just gotta get you back to wherever you’re stayin at first. It’s dangerous for a pretty girl to be on the street like this.”
You nod sollumly. “For the m and m’s yeah. Hard shells- but thin. Can’t be carrying em’ out in the cold. Poor little fellows can’t stand it.”
“Think you should be worrying about yourself first love.”
He really does look a teddy bear when he smiles. A very warm and cuddly teddy bear. Very warm. And you are oh so cold. Maybe…
“…maybe i’m and M and M.”
You mumble with a little frown, looking away from his oh so pretty eyes to instead stare at the cracked M and M in your hand.
He chuckles, it’s a nice sound.
“Com’re lovely. You’re shiverin.”
He held you up and you cling to him naturally. To your disappointment and utter display he is not as soft as a Teddy bear. Such false advertising. When you burry your head in his chest, while warm and soothing- it is firm with muscle. Hard just like his arms and co-
“Not exactly what i meant by that sweetheart.”
He’s pushing you away! Away from the warmth.
“No, I'm an M and M- gotta be warm or else I'll crack! Do you want me to die?”You whine out trying to stay close but he’s very strong, holding you firmly away from his toned chest.
(And raging boner. Not that you noticed it.)
“I know, I know- here. I’ll give you my coat.”
He wraps you up in his thick but soft coat and you relax immediately, snuggling into the fabric. With your eyes closed you hear the rumble of his chuckle.
“There’s a girl. Nice and warm now?”
You nod, making a drowsy and soft little “Yup.”
“Good. Now come’on. You know where's your hotel at?”
“Huh? We can’t go there! We gotta get more M and M’s first. Silly.”
“Right, course. Silly me.”
You giggle a bit hysterical. He agrees with you so easily, letting you link arms with him and walking you to the M and M factory. He’s so silly. With his cozy coat and koala-esc smile and pretty eyes and rumbly voice and-
“I think m’ in love with you.” You slur out, gazing at him with half lidded eyes.
“Shouldn’t say stuff like that sweetheart. Might give a guy ideas.”
Ah Ideas, you’ve got a lot of ideas. So many fun ones- but mostly one that you blurt out after he gently pushed your hand away when you tried to pay for your new M and M’s.
“I think I wanna kiss you.”
Price pauses as he tugs you outside the shop. Looks down at you, clinging to his arm, wrapped up in his coat; with the sweetest face and clearly wasted out of your mind. Price isn’t a good man. A good man would have called you a cab to get you back to your hotel. Would have asked if you had any friends to get you there. Would have gently told you to go to the stupid M and M factory another time.
He’s not a good man but even Price isn’t fucked up enough to take advantage of a pretty drunk girl. Even if his self control is wilting the more time he spends around the mess that is you.
He shakes his head with a little sigh, leaning down close to you and mumbling.
“S’ not a good idea to kiss strangers love.”
“So then marry me and we won’t be strangers.”
…Self control John. Self control.
“Will you marry me please?”
You plead with the teddy bear man, he’s just so cozy and pretty you can’t help it. You wanna kiss him soooo bad but he’s right you can’t kiss a stranger! But if he was your husband then it would be perfectly acceptable. And you are an ordained minister technically so it all works out!
Price looks at you, your pleading eyes, your softness, you wrapped up in his coat and clinging to his arm. Pretty little thing.
…He deserves to let his self control slip just this once right?
#fanfic#fiction#reader insert#john price#price x reader#cod fanfic#john price x reader#go look at auspicioustiddings they’re cool#once more#Mahairi drables is like my favorite tag to look at#Also cause it’s likely they will see this-#Erm hello!#Again!#Cod#drabble#Should i continue this?#Unsure
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Um… did anybody order an odd ramble about creep!stiles that doesn’t make sense?
| cw(?) : stiles is lowk a stalker but doesn’t realize it, very all over the place (it’s from the drafts)
Stiles is a nice guy. That’s what he’s been told, despite his dislike for the description. He’s especially nice to pretty girls.
So it was no surprise when he saw you walking home from school in the rain; hood up, hair tucked away, head down, he offered you a ride.
At first, you didn’t hear the boy. Awkwardly enough for him, you somehow hadn’t noticed the cyan vehicle directly next to you crawling down the street. He was afraid his slow driving and cranked-down window would paint him as a creep harassing some innocent girl on the side of the road, but he really couldn’t stand to see you miserably trudge down the sidewalk. It was a decent day temperature-wise, but the rain possessed a chill that the air didn’t.
He’s seen you around school before, along with the way you stick to the side of the halls to avoid any unnecessary contact with others not apart of your group. Scott pointed out that it was unsettling how much he knew about you. Stiles argued that he didn’t know that much. He really only knew you were a straight A student (in physics at least), you always had headphone’s connected to your iPod, even when you weren’t using them, you admired any change in weather (your gaze would get lost out the window during class), and if he had to guess, he’d say your favorite color was purple based of various stationery and minor details of your outfits. But once, he overheard chatter between friends in which you confessed to recently taking a liking to earthier tones like dark greens and pale blues.
Of course stiles knew who you liked to hangout with, but he wouldn’t really count that as creep-worthy like Scott claimed. His defense had always followed along the lines of “it’s high school in a small town, how could I not notice the friend groups in this place?” As if Scott were duller for not taking any interest in his surroundings. Stiles liked to bury it once and for all by telling Scott that he’s the “important alpha” and should always be aware of his surroundings. Scott never did much but shake his head and scoff at his friend’s incompetent argument, figuring one day he’d realize it.
And it wasn’t until he finally got your attention, your hand tugging the wire and tucking it in your hood to avoid water damage, accepting a kind offer from a boy you’ve seen in your physics class, that stiles truly realized he might have had a touch of creep in him. He hadn’t planned this, right? Not consciously. Stiles hadn’t waited for the perfectly imperfect, rainy day to finally make his move on purpose. A coincidence— that’s what his mind happily settled on when you got in; subtly shivering, the ends of a few loose strands of your hair damp, clothes practically soaked, your teeth chattering and all.
His subconscious couldn’t have planned this without his conscious knowledge, right? All he wanted was to help someone in need. It just happened to be the girl he’s been admiring from afar for weeks now. It’s not as if he could control the weather or his routine changed so that he could watch the weather channel each morning, occasionally with his dad if his schedule permitted. No, he’s always done that.
So why did it feel so… odd to finally be in close proximity to you. Just you. No one else from class, or any of your friends. It’s what he’s always wanted… but, since when? You’re just a girl from his physics class— no doubt you were pretty and stiles had definitely noticed, but to him it felt like everything had fallen into place. But he never remembered setting up those pieces.
Maybe he really was a creep.
#clearing out the drafts#creep/stalker stiles is a lot like loser stiles#the subtle plot twist too??#surprised myself with that#stiles’!world#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#dylan obrien#stiles stilinski teenwolf
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Okay it's been an eternity and a half since I did something like that... My writing exercises led me to writing this and someone might enjoy it sooo... here's some fanfic for y'all.
“Yes?”
Surprise
“Darling?”
“May I ask you what you’re doing?”
Rainbow Dash stopped, her foot caught mid-way into a step. She had almost reached Rarity undetected and she cursed herself for whatever had given her away. “Talking to you, of course,” she gambled, trying her most innocent tone.
Rarity didn’t turn to face her interlocutor. She didn’t even stop working. She sat at her work table as if nothing was happening. Under her careful hands, a gorgeous purple skirt was being born and Rainbow’s presence was apparently not enough to stop this labour.
“Darling, while I find your humour amusing and your antics fascinating, I’m afraid this time they will not distract me fom the matter at hand.”
Play dumb, Rainbow told herself. “I don’t know what you mean,” Rainbow said instinctively before mentally facepalming. Not that dumb.
“Oh?” Rarity’s tone was still even and almost unemotional, which was not a good sign. “So I should not expect any surprise should I stop working on this very important commission and turn around.” Rarity left the words hanging while correcting a small mistake in her work.”None at all.”
“Well,”– Rainbow wracked her brain faster than she could run and picked the first coherent argument she could find, hoping it would work –“if there was a surprise, it would be stupid to say it don’t you think? That would ruin the surprise.”
That one worked. And the athlete sighed internally. Hopefully, that would be enough to give her some time to look for an excuse.
They stayed there silently for a while. Rarity working on her skirt and Rainbow sweating nervously less than a metre behind her.
“So if I understand correctly,” the seamstress finally said, “whether you are planning to do something unforeseen or not I can’t know unless I turn around, is that it.”
“Uh… Yeah! Exactly.”
“Intriguing.”
“Fascinating.”
“Enthralling.”
“Okay I give up.”
While she couldn’t see it, she knew Rarity was rolling her eyes in their sockets. Maybe she even got a smile out of it. “Then what about a deal, my dear, cyan paramour.”
“Yeah?” she hesitated.
“You and I both know that Applejack cannot keep a secret. And you must certainly know by now of a certain weakness of mine she stumbled upon recently during our date.” Rainbow Dash tried to deny it, but Rarity interrupted her before she could even open her mouth. “Whether it is a testament of Applejack’s efforts or your restraint or both is irrelevant. I am very grateful for the days of respite I could enjoy.”
“Heh, think nothi–”
“Now, while we do not share our partner’s truthfulness, we are still the Elements of Loyalty and Generosity. So let me propose you a deal. A promise if you will, something I know you will abide to. I promise you that whatever this surprise of lack thereof is, I will give you something equivalent. Does that seem fair to you?”
The threat was not even veiled. It was there in the room, standing between Rarity and Rainbow and daring the prankster to act. Rainbow knew that Rarity would follow her promise and that the retribution would be served cold and unexpected like a bucket of ice water.
Honestly, she found it hot. Scary, but hot.
“Yeah! Of course! Sure! I mean psh! Of course that’s fair!”
“Excellent!” She said with a falsely jovial tone. “Now, I am going to put down the fabric and sewing needle and give you ten seconds to surprise me. Then I will resume work.”
“Wait! What if you don’t like the surprise?”
“Do I have any reason to?”
“Psh! Of course not.”
“Then why worry?”
“But what if?”
“Well I would never be disappointed in a genuine effort to please me, darling.”
Rainbow Dash grinned. She had a potential line of defence! “Cool!”
“A purposeful effort to put me in a predicament however… there might be repercussions.”
“So…”
“It would be very unadvised.”
Rainbow Dash fell silent as her last excuse faded into nothingness.
Rarity calmly and slowly put the sewing tools back on her table, stretched her muscles and started counting.
“One… two… three…”
Rainbow Dash hesitated so much. She struggled so hard against her nature. There were so many ways to get out of this quietly. It would be easy. Give her a kiss or a hug and everything would be okay. She thought it over and over until the very last second…
Unfortunately for Rarity (and for her at some point), this was an opportunity she would only get once.
Before “ten” could leave her lover’s lips, She lunged forward and firmly put her hands on Rarity's ribs.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You will be, yes,” she sighed, resigned yet resolved.
And then, Rainbow started tickling.
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Yokai Ryokan - Chapter 2
My updates might be even more sporadic than usual, I'm quite busy this following month and a half :{
Jimmy woke up to a cold, very cold and damp sensation on his cheeks. And the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was Scott's cyan and gold eyes, and he could feel his cold breath on his face. As Scot pulled away with a relieved smile, he noticed the small horns he had only ever seen in books about myths and legends. Small, rounded, slightly resembling antlers. And there was that tail with cyan scares and dark cyan fur along the top of it and a fluffy tuft at its end. And as he blinked and looked around he spotted fWhip, and his nervously flicking fox ears and all his tails. Was it seven? Nine? It was hard to say with how much they were moving. Burning away what remains of those monsters. "He's awake," Scott called out to the redhead, still supporting Jimmy so he doesn't fall down again. Be it on his back or his face.
fWhip burned away the last already mangled and charred corpse and quickly joined them. "How are you feeling? Are you good enough to walk? We're really sorry but whatever happened makes it impossible for us to disguise ourselves again," he jumped to explain.
"Slow down, he's got to be confused," Scott sighed, rolling his eyes.
"I know, but more of those things might be coming," fWhip huffed and more howling echoed in the distance. "Dang it. Can you walk?" he asked.
Jimmy just shrugged. A lot has just happened and he was surrounded by handsome - very handsome - men, he'd be overwhelmed even if circumstances were different, tails and horns and monsters or not. "I think so, the weird itching and headache are gone?" he added with a slight shrug.
"Okay, we'll take you to the inn, I'd rather not test how Katherine might react, she tolerates us, strong yokai it is, to a degree, and that wasn't onmyoji energy... I have no idea what that was but we should be careful," Scott nodded and helped Jimmy up.
Jimmy could not, in fact, handle walking the other half of the way to the inn end ended up being carried by fWhip. The kitsune, as the man himself said was much warmer than the water ryu (a/n: my damn brain needs a separation from European dragons). And created a small soul flame - another fWhip explanation - to light up the path and maybe keep some monsters away. "I have no idea what those were but they gave me the creeps," fWhip muttered. "Like... I never saw something like that..."
"Neither have I, but they seemed eerily familiar... Like there was a connection... Something in their energy was familiar but I can't put a finger on it," Scott muttered in an annoyed tone, twirling his umbrella. It was rather cute to Jimmy's frazzled brain. "Hopefully whatever's blocking our ability to disguise ourselves runs out or we're in trouble, Katherine won't like it," he sighed.
"Isn't Gem one of the shrine maidens?" Jimmy asked he was feeling significantly better but fWhip just shook his head when he said he could walk. "Why wouldn't she be okay with..."
"It's too complicated to say now but in short words," fWhip explained as more howling could be heard in the woods. Still distant. Maybe a bit further than before? "A strong yokai who used to live here turned evil," he continued, speeding up, "and it wasn't that long ago so Katherine's not big on trusting us right now," he finished. The inn was almost in sight.
"Stratos has wards, we'll be safe there," Scott's voice was slightly shaking as more howling echoed through the woods. This time closer. He was clearly not in the mood to fight anything. Much less completely unknown to them monsters of even more unknown origin.
When they entered the back side of the ryokan they were met by a shocked Joel. As Scott and fWhip tried to explain their appearance, Jimmy looked to the path. One of the three-headed beast dogs was there snarling. "Guys? There's one..." As he was saying that Joel pulled a bow out of nowhere and shot it dead. The Beast dissolved into dark smoke as the arrow vanished.
"Inside," Joel said sternly and no one argued with that. fWhip carried Jimmy to the staff building followed closely by Scott. "Luckily all the guests are in town, enjoying all the early stalls and pop-up performances," he said and left to find his wife.
They sat in silence. fWhip scrunched his face and suddenly tails and ears were gone. "It passed," he let out a relieved sigh as Scott followed suit. "And do not apologise, you obviously have even less of an idea what happened there than the two of us," he added, patting Jimmy's cheek.
"What the hell are you two doing to Gem's friend?!" Lizzie huffed as soon as she walked in. Hand on hips, hair tied in a messy bun, still in an apron. She was clearly helping in the kitchen before Joel went to get her. Speaking of, he was behind her, hand on her shoulder.
"Protecting him?" fWhip offered. "We were walking him from the shrine so Gem can get her work started. About halfway there, he fell to the ground holding his head. Then those monster dogs, like eight or ten walk out, Joel saw one. And then Jimmy exploded this... good, warm, clearly not human, energy, destroying them and our disguises. They work now," he explained and looked over Jimmy and Scott to see if they wanted to add anything.
"What he said. We've been hearing howling the whole rest of the way," Scott nodded but he didn't look like he was quite there. He was staring out a window at the darkened forest. "There was something familiar in those monsters' energy... I haven't... It was weird," he finished his scattered thought. "How are you feeling? Even the smallest odd feeling."
Jimmy hummed. "I'm fine now. My head's slightly spinning but I think that's mostly confusion," he shrugged and there was fWhip's hand on his forehead. "I certainly feel better than I was the whole day... Like since the third torii of the stairs from the main road to here," he added and fWhip blushed slightly. The mysterious figure on the gate came back to mind. "It was you I saw on that gate?" he asked, blinking.
"Yeah... I just wanted to see Gem before Katherine puts her in miko robes..." he sighed, sitting back and staring at the tatami floor.
"So... What now?" Lizzie asked. "We can't let Katherine know Jimmy's possibly a yokai of great spiritual power, she'd flip," she sighed and looked at Joel.
"Well, I can't talk for fWhip but if you," he looked at Jimmy, "are okay with it I can stick around you to make sure no more of those dogs attack and maybe try and teach you how to control your energy? Or try to? You looked damn bad since we saw you at the temple," he pushed some errand hairs off of Jimmy's face. "And if you are okay with it," he added, looking at Lizzie and Joel.
"Oh, I don't mind, that thing gave me the creeps even through the barrier. And if Katherine and her shrine maidens are worth anything they already felt that energy and will be looking for whatever caused it," Joel hummed, leaving Lizzie's side and looking out the window looking towards the shrine. "And pretend everything is okay because of the festival... Lizzie?"
"Same as Joel. And I hope you would help if anything attacks this place," she nodded, her attitude softening a bit. "fWhip I know you hate hiding things from Gem but..."
"Don't worry, I'm going to help. Just... I'm trying to think what Jimmy can even be. I... His energy was so different from me or Scott and we're the strongest around here. It was so..." he stopped for a second. Looking right into Jimmy's eyes. "It felt, for the lack of better words, good. Like it's incapable of hurting anything but it destroyed those monsters. I never heard of Yokai with such good energy," he finished with a shrug.
Jimmy just nodded. "I have no idea what's going on but I get that we can't tell the temple because some strong yokai turned evil recently and they have a hard time with trusting more powerful yokai, and I'm guessing here, even smaller yokai aren't too happy with it," he slowly summarised what he gathered from it all. "And I might be a yokai but we have no idea what kind and why I wouldn't know it... Okay... I"m more than willing to learn how to control what I did there, even maybe learn how to utilise it to defend myself," he added, staring up at the ceiling. This was a lot.
All five of them were silent for a moment until Jimmy sighed and flopped to the tatami floor. "Can we leave heavy topics for later and rest now? I was feeling weird the whole day, exploded and learned I might not be human..."
"Of course," Lizzie jumped right back to being a host. "Sausage is making dinner, you two better stay the night, we can't be sure what's in the woods," she chattered and almost dragged the three of them to the staff house's dining area where Hermes was already setting up plates.
"We're having guest, auntie?" he asked, looking between fWhip and Scott with wide eyes. The kid obviously was excited to see them.
Lizzie nodded, and once she had the three of them seated, Joel went to make sure no more monsters were trying to breach Ryokan's protections and went to help with dinner. Taking the kid with her. Leaving them awkwardly sat together.
"Are you really okay?" fWhip asked after a minute. Or two. "You're Gem's friend... I don't... I don't often talk to humans who don't know about yokai, but you don't have to hide what you're really feeling. I... I'll understand..." he was clearly not saying everything he wanted to say. But the way Scott patted his back was more than words. Gem. It must have been hard for him to learn his twin sister was different.
"I... I'm slowly processing what's happened today... I think I'm okay but it's a lot. We'll see how I feel after some sleep," he sighed and stared out the window. It looked darn peaceful considering all the recent revelations. "I'll assume, everyone here and that Oli character is also Yokai."
He was right in assuming that but neither Scott nor fWhip would say what kind of yokai everyone was. "It's their thing to say," Scott said and the kitsune nodded. They did confirm that fWhip indeed had nine tails and he agreed to show them to Jimmy in more detail another day when they had more privacy and time. And Scott was indeed a mythical ryu and usually lived in the lake, during tourist season he moved between smaller lakes in the woods. And with a chuckle, just before the diner was served he said that he was willing to show Jimmy his full form if they ever happened to have enough room.
"Everyone in town, even just humans, knows that there are yokai around," Scott calmed Jimmy's worry that someone might see him. "The valley is locked to tourists outside the season and I'm very careful, no need to worry about me," he finished with a smile and thanked Lizzie for the food.
An hour after the dinner was finished and he got into his bed Jimmy was unable to sleep. He kept tossing and turning in his futon. Overthinking his whole life and all the weird hunches he ever had. All weird shadows he could recall seeing. Was it all being a possibly forcefully disguised yokai or something else? Should he tell fWhip and Scott about all those small dumb things he avoided thanks to these premonitions? All the bigger things he could possibly stop but being a coward didn't? Probably. Next time it's just three of them he told, lied to, himself.
He was at it for maybe another half an hour. An hour? When a shadow appeared in his window. A small fox with three tails and weirdly shining in dark piercing blue eyes. The same shade as fWhip's tail fur. "fWhip?" Jimmy called out and the fox jumped in through the half-open to the summer heat window. And sad on top of /jimmy's chest. Still as a small fox, luckily for Jimmy's poor bone structure.
"Rest," Jimmy heard fWhip's voice from the fox as it settled on top of him. It was calming and reassuring. But also...
"fWhip you jerk..." suddenly Scott slinked into the room. Jimmy clearly remembered closing it but he was not about to question anything these two do. And there was a cool presence of Scott next to him. "We guessed you would be awake, analysing your whole life, hope you don't mind if we try to help."
"I certainly couldn't sleep when I learned I'm a yokai and Gem isn't. There are no yokai hybrids, it's fifty-fifty chance which the child is..." fWhip hummed, almost a whisper, not moving off of Jimmy's chest.
#my stuff#my stories#empires smp#empiresshipping#fanfiction#empires shipping#empires fwhip#empires scott#empires jimmy#yokai au
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October
(A Spooky Month AU Series)
PART 18/CHAPTER 18: A Eye-filled Mission.
Summary: A 19-year old Skid ends up moving back to his old town for the sake of nostalgia. But he finds himself surrounded by familiar faces.
TWS: PROFANITY, PUMP STILL BEING AN ASSHOLE, BICKERING, HYPNOSIS, SLIGHT BRAINWASHING, CRYPTID CREATURES/HORRIFYING CREATURES, WEAPON MENTIONS.
————
Skid, when he had been a child, hadn't known that when Eyes had hypnotized Roy, Robert and Ross, they hadn't been "having fun". But now that he was grown, he could clearly see that they weren't having fun at all. With a slightly horrified look, Skid watched as Eyes hypnotized them and left them in a trance.
"Uh.. Eyes.." Skid tried to speak up, holding out a hand. Pump said, with a hypnotized and sleepy grin, looking down at the three who had been hypnotized, "Yeah.. thats right.. keep looking at the stars, you bastard."
Skid glanced at Pump, seeming mildly scared at his former friends ominous sentence. Skid slowly said, "Uh.. yeah.." Skid then looked back down at Eyes, "Uh.. Eyes, we were going to get candy right? M—Maybe you should wait until later to, uh.. make people look at the stars? Heh.." Skid nervously chuckled.
He couldn't exactly tell, but Eyes was looking up at him. "HMMM... ALRIGHT, FLESH. BUT ONLY THIS ONCE."
Suddenly, Roy, Robert and Ross's Eyes became normal again, the cyan color fading from their pupils. Roy rubbed his head, slowly looking up. "What the.." Roy uttered, his facial expression slowly becoming terrified as he looked up. Robert and Ross began to look terrified as well.
Pump furrowed his brows, "Aww.. goddamnit, Skid, they were looking at the stars!" Clearly, Pump had either still been hypnotized but more in control now, or temporarily brainwashed.
Skid only glanced at Pump, "Um.. yeah," Skid then glanced down at the three in an apologetic manner, "Uh.. sorry for that!" He called out to them. "DONT WORRY, I'LL SUCK YOUR SOULS SOME TIME ELSE, FLESH." Eyes had said in a genuinely apologetic tone, Skids face flickered with slight fear at that ominous sentence.
"W—Whats that supposed to—" Skid was then interrupted by Roy slowly saying, "Thats.. fine.." The three who had bullied them in the past now looked completely horrified.
"Um.. well, okay.. maybe you should get out of the way? I'd hate for you guys to be ran over.." Skid said, a concerned glance in his face. "Ran.. over? What does that m—" Roy tried to say, but then, the heavy footsteps of Eyes gave away what Skid was indicating. Roy, Robert and Ross all began to simultaneously shriek at the same time and immediately rushed to the opposite side.
As Eyes headed into the town, Skid turned back to where the three had been, and called out, "Sorry!"
The three sat there for a moment in shock. "Uh.. well that was.. eventful." Ross slowly said. It then went silent again. None of them knew how to comprehend what just happened.
As they would head into the town, Skid then turned to Pump, and said, "Uh.. let's just go and see if there's a candy store somewhere."
To Skid, this really was starting to seem familiar, like this had.. already happened.
It.. had already happened.
...
What the hell was this supposed to mean if it happened twice then?
If it had happened twice, was this like the saying "History will repeat itself"? Why was everything suddenly repeating itself?
Either way, Skid tried not to question it, and only continued to try and follow through with the original plan.
————
Skid and Pump would hesitantly walk in side by side, into a candy store that hadn't been the Candy Club. It had been a Halloween-related candy store by the name of Candy Bats, and it had for some reason always selled in the month of October. Skid and Pump were a little confused by the name, and the weird mascot on the logo, but neither of them really cared.
The cashier at the counter noticed them, and said in a customer service type of tone, "Ah, hello, sirs! What would you like?"
"Um.. just three Candy Cans.. i—I mean Candy Canes! Sorry.. heh." Skid frantically waved his hands, apologizing in a anxious manner. Pump only looked at him with a slightly stern but more confused look that anything. Pump was only wondering why Skid would still somehow call it that at the age of 19.
The cashier seemed mildly confused for a moment. "Uh.. you said three Candy Canes, right?"
"...yeah?" Skid said slowly.
"Then where's the third one?" The cashier asked, seeming more confused.
"Uh.. he's right behind us." Pump said, pointing to the direction behind them. The cashier glanced around. And slowly but surely, there had been something behind them, but it had not been a person. It had been yet again the monstrous entity that almost resembled a peacock, Eyes. It slowly opened its jaw, as if ready to bite.
Frantically, the cashier screamed, and practically shoved a bunch of candy at Eyes. They even shoved a whole box of candy at Eyes, but they missed, and nearly hit Pump. Thankfully, Pump managed to catch it in his arms. In a raspy and low tone, he said, "Well, damn.. you know, I think it wasn't a good idea to try and bri—"
The cashier only shrieked more, and began to throw box after box at them, leading to Skid and Pump dodging and screaming in unison.
————
Skid, Pump and Eyes had now been standing in front of the gates of the house on the hill. Skid and Pump hadn't really been eating their candy, and only watched in anticipation as Eyes basically consumed his candy whole. Eyes then suddenly stopped, and looked down at them. He then said to them in his still loud and ominous voice, "ALRIGHT, FLESH, I HAVE TO GO NOW."
Pump quietly muttered, "Fucking finally.."
Skid merely sighed in relief, and looked up at Eyes with a nervous smile, "Uh.. alright, see you later, Eyes!"
"LOOK AT THE STARS FOR ME, FLESH!" Eyes yelled out as he stormed off with his box of candy wrapped in his tentacles. Skid and Pump only watched as he left, and went quiet for a few moments. "So.. what now?" Pump questioned, raising a brow at Skid.
"Uh.. well, we could just... go home, or we could go find somewhere to sit for a bit. I think I need a moment to process all of.. this." Skid said, looking down at the ground in a slightly anxious manner. For a moment, Pumps face slightly flickered with an emotion Skid wasn't able to decipher. Pump tried to open his mouth to speak, but then suddenly—
"Oh, no.. you two ain't going anywhere."
The familiar masculine and rough voice spoke from before them. The two turned around hesitantly, and slowly widened their eyes. The two figures standing in front of them had been the two cops, John and Jack. Sirens from the police cars sounded out from the faint distance, slowly getting closer. John only stared at them with a stern look, while Jack stared at them with a more dissapointed look. Skid and Pump gulped, only wondering what could possibly happen now.
————
"So.. you mean to tell me, you two ordered weapons off of the internet just so you could get the thief to give you your stuff back?" John hesitantly said with a few notes in his hand as he wrote down what the two men were trying to explain to him, he seemed more dissapointed than confused. "Yeah, I tried to say to him later on that maybe it wasn't a good idea, but he just refused!" Skid said, seeming slightly frustrated but frantic. "Hey, it wasn't my fault! You were the one who went along with it!" Pump yelled, clenching his fists.
"Yeah, because I thought that maybe it would work, but guess what?! It didn't! And now your gonna get yourself in trouble like I tried to keep suggesting! I tried to help you, but, oh, no! You just wanted your jacket back so badly you forgot all common sense!" Skid yelled, sarcasm slightly tinted inside of his tone. Pump slightly snarled, gritting his teeth at Skid. "Dont you give me that sass, you—" Pump said, taking a furious step closer to Skid. "Boys. Boys!" John said, raising his voice. This got Skid and Pumps attention, and they then went silent.
John sighed, "Listen, I don't want you two to get in trouble, but you might end up getting yourself arrested if you two end up carrying around weapons. Why did you think carrying a weapon around would get you your jacket back, Pump?" John asked, seeming like a dad lecturing his kid.
Pump groaned, and rolled his eyes, gesturing with his hands sharply, "Because I wanted my jacket back! I didn't want to have to go the easier way because it would take too long!"
"But you still didn't get your jacket back.. what was the point in all of that if you didnt get your jacket back anyway?" Jack asked, seeming more confused than anything. Pump only groaned again, face-palming.
"I would have gotten it back if you two hadn't walked in and interrupted me—" Pump then stopped talking, upon noticing the twos stern glares.
Pump groaned, crossing his arms, "Whatever.. just.. do you promise you'll get my jacket back?"
"Do you promise you won't get into anymore trouble?" Jack asked, raising a brow with a slightly stern glare. Skid and Pump only glanced at eachother for a moment, seeming as if they were thinking about those very words that Jack had spoken. Would they, or would they not get into anymore trouble? That had been the question. Already, within the others company again, they had gotten into more antics and hadn't even realized it. Pump had to admit, this had actually been rather fu.. no, no, that couldn't have been it! Pump guessed it had been.. mildly amusing, in a way.
And Skid had to admit.. even with the constant bickering, he really did feel like a kid again while on that whole adventure, as depressing as it sounded. He guessed the oddly childish chaos of it all had made him sort of.. mildly content, in a way. Even when he had been running around looking for that damn thief who took his coffee mug and Pumps jacket, it felt like he had been on another childhood adventure with his old best friend again. He didn't expect his friend to be so weirdly strong all of the sudden though, with the way he had easily managed to hold him back during their physical dispute.
Skid then sighed, and said in a genuine but meek tone, "Yeah, we promise.."
"Alright, good." John said, looking at the two in a stern manner.
As Jack and John finally left with the promise of getting their stuff back, they left Skid and Pump there, standing on the sidewalk meaninglessly. For a moment, the two had been silent. After a bit, Pump just looked at Skid. "So.. where do we go now?"
Skid sighed in response, he needed a place to clear his head. This whole situation, as nice as it had been to be in his old friends company again, had been very overwhelming, especially with the fact that he and said old friend got into trouble with the fucking cops. He wanted somewhere to clear his head, so...
//////////////////////
Sorry for the short chapter, a little tired today. Kevin is about to show up, don't worry. He isn't dead or anything.
#read the tws#spooky month#skid and pump#pump and skid#spooky month au#jack and john#spooky month john#spooky month jack#john and jack#october au
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they're just splitting the rent.
words: 2182
content warnings: none
etc: quick establishing piece for this group who i love so dearly. it mainly centers silke/cyane, with some background adelheidis/crux.
tags: @halsdaisy @sennamybeloved
They straightened their tie. Smoothed down their shirt. Applied two quick swipes of sparkly gold lipstick, stopping in a store’s window to check if it was on right. Somebody inside stared at them, and they smiled, giving a wave.
Under it all, Silke Chau was terrified. They straightened their top hat, which immediately slid to the side again, as usual. The jeweled bee affixed to it glinted back at them before they turned and kept walking.
Going out with a close friend was normal. They tried to repeat this to themself. They’d known her for years, since before she was Dr. Balaji. She was still Anny in their mind, even as they’d both aged, Silke drifting into performance while Cyane drilled herself into engineering. But Silke still didn’t feel like they’d grown apart. They still moved alike when they were together. Something about the way Anny made the same hand gestures like Silke’s, something like the way Silke had taken to fidgeting with their sleeves like Anny did.
Butterflies fluttered in their stomach. The silver ring in their pocket grew heavier than it should have been. Silke had no idea why they were so anxious about this. It was just… taking Cyane to a new place, maybe giving her a little gift. What was so stressful about that?
They’d seen the little angel-wing band in a store, and it reminded them so much of Cyane that they’d bought it on the spot with money they didn’t have. Silke was wondering if they’d have to get another side gig. They’d quit their job once again and slunk off to the underground of vaudeville, searching for something that didn’t make them feel so lonely, even with the warmth of Anny’s body next to them at night. Splitting the rent wasn’t going to offset this purchase, though.
An awning cast a shadow over them, and Silke turned to scan the posters behind shiny glass. It was dark outside, cobbled roads lit only by dimmed yellow streetlights, and yet the city was just beginning to awaken. They squared their shoulders and pushed open the door.
“What’s this place?” Cyane had asked, pushing her crescent-moon glasses up her nose. Silke’s eye was immediately drawn to her deep blue nails.
“Just another club.” Silke shrugged, indifferent. “But I heard they’ve got a Landa lady there. It’s this elite performing-arts family,” they found themself explaining. “The women are all wonderful. I’d love to see this show.”
Cyane raised her eyebrows, putting down her paper with light annoyance. “You know, I’m not a fan of the arts, but you don’t need to explain the Landas to me. Everybody knows them.”
Silke winced. Blunt as ever.
“Anyways, if you want to, sure, I’ll come.”
“Lovely,” said Silke, already thinking of what lipstick they would wear. “Meet you there tonight?”
“Why not?”
The interior of the Velvet Hood cabaret was dim, the only light a few amber-toned lanterns sparsely on the walls. It was dusty, Silke thought. Not in a literal way, but it felt old, despite the building being fairly new. Silke had heard whispers that it’d been built for this Landa lady.
Who was she, anyway? The lighting was almost too dim to make out details on their crumpled flyer. Silke smoothed it out on their lap, under the red tablecloth.
On the flyer, a tall, beak-masked figure embraced a ballet dancer in a skull-shaped mask. Rat and Reaper. Thursday nights, at the Velvet Hood. That was it. Either of these people could be the performer everybody was whispering about. Everybody in Silke’s circles, at least. Cyane hadn’t heard a damn thing about this club before Silke brought it up.
“Velvet Hood sounds like something from a penny dreadful,” she’d said, with a derisive sniff.
They weren’t quite listening to what the other patrons were saying, but they did hear somebody murmur the name “Landa”. It was someone behind them, so Silke snuck a peek—a tall person with a fringed scarf, eyes jumping back and forth as they chattered on to their friend. Silke was feeling increasingly alone.
They looked around, hoping to spot Cyane hurrying in. Across the room, an older woman with her hair in long braids reached into her handbag, the rings on her fingers reflecting the dim light. A girl sat in the lap of someone much shorter than her, twirling her hair and giggling at whatever they were saying. From Silke’s perspective, her sizable bust was obscuring their face.
They spotted her only seconds before she sat down. “Sorry I’m late,” Cyane whispered, because whispering felt like the only way to talk in this dark room. Her dark hair curled perfectly around her face, brown eyes locking on Silke’s. They had to look away. She had such an intense stare.
Silke took in her dress, the blue velvet one with all those embroidered constellations on it. “You look good. As usual.”
“Thank you.” It was kind of stilted. Cyane cleared her throat, and then they lapsed into silence.
“Is something on your mind?” They had hardly gotten the sentence out when Cyane started speaking again. “So there’s this bitch at work—“
Silke smiled. There was their Anny, going on about the bitch from work until the lights dimmed even more, and a hush fell over the room. “It’s about to start,” she whispered.
“You know, I love the arts, so you don’t need to explain that to me,” Silke teased.
“Oh, shut up.”
On the side of the stage, Silke spotted two figures. One tall and one short, like on the poster, but they weren’t wearing masks. Which was fair enough. Their own artist friends always loved to embellish whatever act they were advertising.
The shorter one came on first, wearing a tutu and pointe shoes, stepping silently across the stage to sit at the piano. The taller one entered next, stepping up to the microphone, his long fingers dancing over the stand. “Good evening,” he said, voice low and husky. The stage lighting easily caught his sparkling eyeshadow and his rings, and the shine of his tall leather boots. Silke admitted he was attractive, maybe in a scruffy way.
“He’s so gorgeous,” somebody next to Silke tittered. Cyane rolled her eyes, her fingers going to the interlocked Venus symbols on a chain around her neck.
“For all who do not know us, allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Crux raven Landa—“ he continued, undeterred, even as an excited whisper went up at the name Landa—“and my lovely companion is Adelheidis Melchior.”
“That’s… who is that?” Cyane murmured.
“Not one of the prolific Landa ladies. It’s Crux, the only man who’s inherited the name,” Silke realized. “I mean, I don’t think it’s his anymore—“
“Tell me later!” Cyane hissed.
Adelheidis pushed their glasses up their nose, scowling, and played a chord, as if to tell Crux, Get on with it. He smiled, stepping backwards easily and putting his hand on their shoulder, sliding up so his thumb was on their lips—then jerking back as if he’d been bitten, Adelheidis offering another snarl. “Don’t worry, she only bites me,” Crux said, with a chuckle. Even without the microphone, his voice was still impressively loud.
Adelheidis turned, allowing Silke a clear glimpse of their face. Their hair was black and curly, and the stage lighting refused to let anybody see what was under their round glasses. They used their ankle to drag Crux in closer to them, grabbing his collar and yanking him down. The two of them looked beautiful. Decadent, with the amount of different fabrics and textures on Adelheidis’ costume, and the sleek shiny feathers on Crux’s shrug. Untouchable.
“I wish that was me,” another patron sighed. This time, Cyane was too entranced by the stage to pay them any mind.
“So, you’re all here for a show, huh?” Adelheidis’ smile was a wicked slash. “Let’s give you a show.” They played the same chord, once, twice, and then launched into a rich piece as Crux hurried back to the microphone to sing.
His voice was a smooth baritone, obviously quite trained. But maybe not in a classical sense. Silke knew the Landas were an eccentric sort, eschewing proper training in favor of passing the skill down through the family, mother to daughter. To son, in this case.
They knew very little about playing the piano, but from what they did know from their musician friends, they could see that Adelheidis was classically trained. Their posture made it evident, as did the pure skill they were pouring into the keyboard.
Crux’s singing had imperfections in it. But Silke found themself drawn to it, and they thought they would be even not knowing his family name. The volume dropped as he backed away from the microphone once again, sitting down with Adelheidis at the piano bench, playing alongside them so it was seamless when Adelheidis rose, dropping their glasses on top of the sheet music stand. The marked shift in the way they carried their body was even visible to Silke, who knew nothing about ballet, as they picked up a tambourine from the top of the piano and moved to center stage, lifting their leg high as Crux transitioned into playing a more classical piece. The audience around them whispered murmurs of awe.
“Look at her calves,” Cyane sighed. Silke flicked her arm.
Adelheidis hit each position on-beat with the music, punctuated with the impact of the tambourine—on their foot, on their shoulder, on their hip. They leaned over their leg, extended front, suspended for a second, before stepping through and performing a turn. Crux hesitated when they did, continuing on when they started moving again—but quickly backtracked. Clearly, Adelheidis repeating this turn wasn’t in the original sheet music, but they executed such a perfect double that Silke doubted the audience, murmuring approval, noticed or cared. Silke certainly didn’t.
They could see that the two performers harmonized perfectly, listening and watching for each other’s cues. Silke couldn’t tell which parts of this choreography were rehearsed, and which were improvised.
Crux’s playing dwindled down to a single note as Adelheidis fluttered to the back of the stage, throwing their arms back with a ferocious smile, before they launched into a leap so powerful that the audience gasped. Into a series of turns, Crux’s coda speeding up accordingly, and finishing exactly when they did. Adelheidis finished close to the edge of the stage, and Silke could see that their face was red from exertion.
Applause went up from the audience as Adelheidis picked up their glasses and sat down again at the piano, turned away from the keys. Crux picked up a guitar, and started picking a lone melody, as Adelheidis took a deep breath and sang.
It was impressive. An intense variation like that straight into using your lung capacity in a totally different way. Silke reached in their wallet to look for a tip, hitting their fingernail on the silver angel wing ring. They froze. They needed to give that to Cyane before they forgot.
Crux’s booming voice soared above, almost overtaking Adelheidis’ gentle and soft one, but pulling back after he took a glance at their face. Adelheidis smiled at them—and it wasn’t the vicious smile they’d hurled at the audience earlier. It looked like how their voice sounded.
The conclusion of their song, backed only by a guitar melody, felt natural, and the audience applauded once again. Little cabaret acts like this never got the same roars as the same act staged in an opulent opera house. Silke crossed their ankles. With his family name, surely it would be easy for Crux to work someplace more prestigious? Why here?
“Thank you,” Adelheidis said quietly, their cold tone returning, yet not as frigid as before as their eyes strayed to Crux’s face. They accepted Crux’s hand and let him lead them offstage as the hall coalesced into brief silence before the next act.
“Some opening,” Cyane said from next to Silke.
“In a good way?”
She flipped her hair back. “It was okay.”
“I liked it.”
“Are you just saying that because the guy was attractive?”
“Oh, rubbish, don’t act like you’re any better.”
“Shut up!” That was the second one of the night. Satisfied with how much they’d irritated her, Silke smiled, reaching into their pocket.
“Sorry. I know I’m annoying. So, to make up for it…” They took Cyane’s hand and heard her breath hitch gently, sliding the ring onto her finger.
“What is this?” she whispered, harsh. “How much was it?”
“Shh. Don’t worry about it.” Silke patted her hand. “It’s angelic, just like you, Anny.”
Cyane hesitated, her eyes locking onto Silke’s again. They only held her gaze for a moment before dropping it, hearing her scoff as they did.
“I can’t accept this.”
“Well, I already bought it. You’d better, or else it’d just be a waste.”
“…Thank you,” Cyane murmured, taking Silke’s hand in both of hers. They felt their neck flush as the warm light glinted off the silver. “I really do appreciate it, Cece.”
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hey there! can I ask what psd you used, or a tutorial on how you get the purple so smooth in this gifset (dinahlaurellancesource(.)tumblr(.)com/post/707525976560746496). It's so pretty and every time I try it, the gif looks grainy and low quality, but yours (especially your purples!) looks really high quality! Thanks for any help!
helloooo!
am chuffed to bits that you like the purples in my gifs :D it’s kind of my signature so it’s nice to know that you think it’s high quality!
I am a bit of a grandma so I’m not sure if this is actually going to work, but if you try this link, you should be able to access the psds for that set: https://file.io/S9r0m9yHReou
to understand what I’m about to tell you, make sure you look at the psd as it should make more sense seeing that and the steps under the cut. I’ll try to talk you through how you get from this:
to this:
it’s not an exact science (or art maybe) but the graininess is something I have struggled with too. what I find helps is just trial and error really. and purple is much easier to achieve when you already have blue or green in the gif somewhere, or with a character whose skin tone can take a bit more colour balance.
we start with this, laurel in bare face psd:
the hint of green in that original scene is basically enough. so what you start with after brightening it up (brightness/contrast, levels, curves, exposure)
is you add colour balance to make more bluish or greenish in the background.
I then usually do a vibrance layer bc her face looks a lil orange and I need to turn down the saturation. along with that my standard selective colour layer that I use basically in every psd is turning up blacks slightly - that might help a tiny bit with the graininess. after that in a new selective colour layer, you max out the cyans and blacks and reduce the yellows to zero in greens and - this is the important part - keep magentas at 100%. there’s probs some fancy sciencey or graphic design term for why this is but basically your key to avoid graininess is to keep magentas high ish.
I then repeat that same selective colour layer for greens. after that, you move onto cyans as that’s your next colour that you’re going to change.
you’re already starting to see the purple coming through. again, you keep magentas and blacks to the max, turn down cyans and yellows completely. what that does is, the cyans in that gif, the purple is enhanced, and because the magentas are kept up there is v little graininess.
the magic is now happening! new selective colour layer, for blues this time. and you can tweak this based on what shade of purple or pink you want. i was going for more light pink here which is why i kept in the yellows. but you can play around with it to get the colour you want - generally if you reduce the yellows you’ll get a purple closer to blue. it shouldn’t be grainy provided you keep the magentas and blacks at 100% again.
and then finally, if you’re not happy with the shade of pink or purple or you want to tweak it more, you can add a final selective colour layer this time for magentas. I was going for a specific pink colour as this was what my good friend @laurellance requested but you can play around with this a bit too. just be careful with magenta layers as if you turn down the cyan too much here you might end up with it being grainy. but the tricky is that you do each step as a separate selective colour layer.
make sense? let me know if you have any questions :)
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Hey pookie, can you do Mitsuba and Tsukasa angst to fluff?
Mitsuba and Tsukasa
Not sure if you wanted them like this or not and this Is my first time doing something like this on tumblr/taking request
The sound of birds chirping, the smell of fresh air, later filled with cooked meat and baked potatoes as the sound of boiling water could be heard
"Mooomm! " A soft voice said, as the person turned off the oven as to not burn the fresh cooked meat
"Wake upppp! I made food! I know today is the big day! ....... Mom? " The child stopped talking as footsteps could be heard, along with the floor creaking, here and there. "Mom....? " the child opened the door oh, the person mother wasn't there he should have checked..
The child sighed, he closed the door making a loud THUD sound, he sighed as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed different bowls and plastic plates to put the found away
He looked at the time 6:20 he is going to be a little light but its fine, he putted the warm, fresh food away. He putted the plates away, and got ready.
He grabbed his uniform, a cyan shirt, a pale pitch tie and a black suit, with white pants and a black belt.And white with green shoes, he sighed and grabbed his bag, fixing his pink soft hair
He sighed and smiled "Today you wont miss this up mitsuba! " His pink eyes with a goal of making friends.....
(Later in the day)
"AGH! " The sound of the metal fence and a body with it along, kicking and name-calling, punching, face slamming etc
"Stop... Please" whimpering and groaning, whinging and crying like a girl, he didn't think this would happen again... He thought this day would be different that nobody would make fun of him for being a girl. Well, looking girly that is, but guys have to be masculin... Not girly
He cringed at the thought of his mother finding out about this, the people stopped hurting him... Its fine it will all pass away anyway
He hiccuped, and got up, hot tear going down his cheeks.. He walked away and out of the school.. He didn't feel like it today anyway
It seems like he was skipping school, it was cold he thought maybe he will freeze to death... That was better then living in a world that didn't want him
He walked home, the cold breezing wind caressing his body, as he tried to get warmth his suit didn't help one bit. He cringed at the wind was hurting his eyes, he couldn't even see anything much... This sucked every part of him screamed at him, he should have walked back
The cars pasted by him, the passengers and drivers watching a school student walk home almost freezing to death. He was lucky he didn't forget his bag, sure they almost stole everything but its fine... Its fine.....
He hiccuped he didn't actually want this... God kill him already, small tears forming as he walked to his gate.. He went to grab his keys and..
Oh.. He forgot them or they got stolen even worse they stole his camera the thing he loved the most, great just great.
He sighed and walked back might as well get back even it was almost the end of school... Just a little closer and- 𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙎𝙃 oh.. Oh no this is bad
He seems to be loosing his sights maybe its his tears? But why is everything so silent? He can barely hear other then the sound of a loud ringing
Everything turned black.
He woke up, everything was so bright but why does he feel like he is floating? Weird this is soo weird "What the fuck... " the child cringed and hiccuped wait.... Was he...? OH GOD! He's dead oh wow oh wow...
Childish giggles could be heard, he looked around what..? No who was that? Was it a child? Was it his imagination? "W-WHO'S THERE?! " he yelled in a panic tone
"Hehe its me silly" A childish voice could be heard as the person showed themselves
A short boy with choppy black hair and wide amber eyes, but his eye pupils are always constricted and he has two small fang-shaped teeth. The child wears a white Western shirt with a black kimono over top, a grey hakama, black shoes, red ankle-height socks, and a hat, and 2 koku-joudai with black and pink with blue circle markings respectively.
On his right cheek is a black yorishiro seal, with 封 (seal) written in red.
"My name is Tsukasa Yugi! But just call me Tsukasa" Mitsuba looked at the kid.. Or well Tsukasa, huh... And what does he want?
"I know what your thinking, what is a kid like me wanting from you? Well THATS easy!!! I grant wishes from dead people. Yes you heard me right.. Dead people" oh so he is dead.. Ha good to know
"So how about a deal? " Tsukasa smiled showing his little sharp fangs, mitsuba shook his head...
"Oh... Well.. You sure? " the child made mitsuba uneasy his stomach turning the tone of the childs voice wasn't something he liked or sounded good... Venom in the tone that could easily scare someone
But he had to stay strong he just had to..
The child just sighed "Fine then your no phone at all... Might as well leave" mitsuba panicked he... He didn't want to be alone..
"NO! I... Dont leave... " his voice creaking a little why was he doing this...? The child looked at him, mitsuba looked away as tears almost spilled down
The child giggled and laughed "𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺.. 𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺... 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺... 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥" the child tone sweet yet filled with venom like a snake trying to attack its prey... And scare it too
Mitsuba sighed in relief maybe this wasn't so bad... This wasn't bad at all.. Yeah, he ignored the way his stomach turned into uneasy like he was drowning... Its fine even what wrong could this kid do? Even better! 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦..
𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝙊𝙉𝙏 𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘽𝙀.. 𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙂𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙇 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙇𝘿 𝙎𝘼𝙏𝘼𝙉 𝙃𝙄𝙈𝙎𝙀𝙇𝙁
#tbhk tsukasa#tbhk mitsuba#idk how to use tumblr#tsukasa yugi#mitsuba sousuke#child death mention#please help
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☆ Always An Artist, Never The Muse
Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader
v. assitance
You paced through the hallway of the literature department, trying to catch a glimpse of a hair in the hue of cyan.
You feel impatient watching the students exit their classrooms, walking down the stairway, and talking to each other.
You feel someone accidentally bump in your shoulder but you pay no heed to their immediate apology since your focus is towards finding Faruzan.
You heaved an irritated sigh, it gets really crowded at the time of dismissal.
Well honestly, you wouldn't be in this spot if you were so patient to wait for her at the usual place where you two meet up after class ends. But almost half on an hour had passed and she still hasn't showed up, so you chose to look for her. You don't even know if you're in the right floor where classes under the same major as hers are located.
Another irritated sigh escaped your lips. Maybe she's on her way now to meet you on the usual spot or she's already there waiting for you— you opt to go back.
You took out your phone to check if she has any response to your messages, but there's nothing.
Is her phone out of battery or something?
You walked down the stairs and let out an exasperated sigh. You have a very, very poor sense of direction which is why you're depending on Faruzan to get to the dormitory building for the time being until you grow accustomed with the directions. Plus, you both shares the same room anyway.
As you descend downstairs, you see your phone lit up.
Oh well, what an inconvenience.
You're legs are now tired from the constant walking and use of stairs. The whole university is wide and your current location is far from the dormitory, and knowing you are likely to get lost on the way— you're aware that you would just get even more exhausted before you could even find it.
No matter, you need to get back on your independence anyway.
You finally exited the building and your focus is on Faruzan's guide. All you have to do is follow it, not hard, right?
Turn right... head straight then turn left...
At times like this, you overthink if right is indeed right and left is indeed left. You scratched your head when in Faruzan's message, you're supposed to be able to see the lawn from the distance after the third turn.
Well now, you're standing between two buildings.
No matter how you tried to keep your focus on directions, you find yourself zoning out. Have you pass through this building before? You're not sure.
You heaved an irritated sigh.
Okay, you're lost again and you don't know how to get back on the track Faruzan instructed. Time to use your intuition!
You turned left, more walking and then left again...
You checked your phone to type a message to Faruzan, but before you could hit the send button, you bumped into someone.
"Stupid."
It was a voice of a male that you recognized. It was said sardonically with an obvious hint of annoyance lacing his tone.
You looked up at him to give him a glare in which he responded with a snort.
"Do you have a habit on bumping into people?" He rolled his eyes in disdain. "As much as 'no phone while driving' is being advocate, you must know it should be also applied to walking."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." You said sarcastically, giving him a false apologetic look. "That was on purpose."
"Thanks, I greatly appreciate the gesture."
You sighed exasperatedly.
You have no energy to entertain another argument with him. It's obviously your fault, you're aware, since you were using your phone while walking. But that doesn't mean you'd apologize, not towards him as you held your pride high. He's also being rude about it anyway, you only say sorry to those deserving.
Well, since you're obviously tired, you decided to make use of him.
"Peasant," You called, and his brows immediately furrowed. He doesn't like the way you addressed him, but he didn't bother to react to it. "The dormitory."
"What?"
"Take me to the dormitory." You demanded, hiding the shame that surged within you.
You are naturally independent, yes. But when it comes to directions... you don't really know why your memory becomes similar to a gold fish when tracking down your destination.
You don't like asking for help especially by the likes of him; a man— but you desperately want to take a rest on your soft bed as soon as possible.
"Is that how you treat someone you bumped into? How amusing." He spoke in an unamused tone, eyeing you from head to toe as if disgusted.
"Yeah, yeah, it is how. Whatever." You rolled your eyes as you flipped your hair. "Just do as I say, will you?"
"Why, you want me to keep you company? What an obvious attempt."
You wanted to slap his face for his audacity, but you merely gave a huff. "I just need you to lead the way."
"Oh? Do you not know how to get there, even though it's been like what, two weeks?" His voice is filled with mockery that a chuckle even escaped his lips.
His eyes didn't fail to catch a glimpse of your reddening ears, the way a flicker of embarrassment passed through your eyes. He found it funny that you still remained with your act of indifference.
"Of course, I know! And it has been three weeks, I must correct you. I'm obviously just making you pay for the inconveniences you've caused me."
You reasoning made him let out another derisive chuckle, as if he find the situation entertaining in an insulting way.
It made you realize that him leading the way would be much more exhausting than you getting lost.
"Alright, sure. Since you so desperately need my assistance."
Oh, how you immensely regret your decision.
prev | masterlist | next
taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej
can't tag those in bold;(
#genshin impact#kabukimono#genshin smau#kunikuzushi smau#smau#social media au#wanderer#wanderer smau#wanderer x reader#wanderer x y/n#scaramouche x you#scaramouche smau#scara x reader#scaramouche fanfic#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche#genshin scara#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche x y/n#wanderer x you#wanderer fanfic#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#female reader#reader insert#kunikuzushi x you#kunikuzushi x reader#kunikuzushi#genshin impact smau#genshin impact scaramouche
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HAN // SKZ SONG CAMP EP.1
#han jisung#jisung#stray kids#bystay#createskz#hjsnet#staysource#han#*gif#chocochip#mine#maybe i should have toned down the cyan#kinda hate the colouring now (':
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Howdy!! Could I request Yandere Gojo and Geto from jjk, with a special-grade sorcerer reader? Ty in advance, I really like your writing!✨
an; thank you for the love ˊᗜˋ💕 here are some drabbles for them separately, hope you liked it :3
warnings; yandere, gore, blood, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behaviour. do not condone such actions in real life, and please kindly read at your own discretion.
THE night was quiet, almost serene, totally at odds with the glowering menace in Geto’s eyes. Gone was the subtle gentleness in those inky slits you had grown to adore; in its place, inscrutable darkness bore holes into the back of your skull as you shuddered beneath the curse user’s glare.
It was still Geto in the flesh: the same face, unique hairstyle and robes he’d wear just like any other day. Yet it was no longer the special-grade sorcerer whom you once knew and loved. You never knew what caused such a drastic change in him; all you wished for, was for the old Geto to return, hoping that all of this was none other than another nightmare.
“Suguru? W-What are you doing at my door? It’s already late, you should be taking some rest ...” A hint of dismay — maybe sadness, ghosted his expression when the raven picked up the quivers in your tone. Nonetheless, a gentle smile adorns his face, emerging from the shadows to reveal himself as the raven explained himself.
“Why? Can’t I come and visit you?” He cocked his head, a playful smirk evident. Geto never ceased to make your heart flutter; perhaps it was his flirtatious nature and mellow personality that drew you towards him, but even after being one of his closest friends for a long time, at times you felt like you couldn’t understand him at all, with this being one of the occurrences.
You chortled, about to invite the raven into your apartment when warning bells started to ring incessantly in your head, warning you that there was something awry about him once you caught a glimpse at his clothes imbrued with crimson splatters.
“Sugu ... what is that on your clothes?”
“Oh this? Satoru splashed me with red paint, it’s not much of a big deal.” You knew he was lying, instantly picking up the revolting metallic stench from the stains. Dread filled your mind while you staggered back, keeping a distance from the male who gave you a perplexed look in return.
“You and I know a smell like this isn’t red paint ...” Trying to be as calm as you could, you retracted a step backwards with every stride Geto took. “Be honest with me. What on earth have you done?”
“Sharp as ever, y/n.” A condescending look took over as Geto finally revealed his true colours. “The world needs to change. All these monkeys are the reasons why curses exist. They can’t even control their cursed energy properly, and we sorcerers have to battle with death every time a curse poses as a threat to them. Their ignorance is revolting in its core, and I believe to make the world a better place, it would be better off to remove all of them out of sight. Don’t you agree —“
“What the fuck are you thinking?” Unable to withhold your seething rage, you snapped at the curse user. “This isn’t what sorcerers should do! What you are doing is of no difference from a brutal murderer Geto! I can’t fucking believe you!”
“How can you think of me like they y/n? That hurts my heart you know.”
Before you could even scream, he was already inches away, blood-stained hands caressing your cheeks tenderly as if you were made of fragile glass. “I just want to make life easier, there’s no need for us to put our lives at stake every time we exorcise curses. Right? We could be enjoying peaceful days together, free from the dangers of this world ...”
“Stop! Your delusions are sick, this isn’t you at all Geto! I don’t know what is wrong with your brain, but it’s never too late to turn back —“
Suddenly, your vision darkened — your consciousness sinking into a bottomless void as the raven carried you in a bridal style, the two of you vanishing into the tenebrosity of the night.
“And I thought you were the only one who’d understand me ... love.” He shook his head in disapproval, but the disappointment in his eyes were eventually replaced with glee as Geto stared at your limp figurine in his arms.
“But don’t worry, what needs to be done will be done. For our sake, for our future together.”
EVERYTHING would always be uglier up close.
At first glance, one might find Gojo Satoru a perfect man: with talent, looks and wealth all in one package. Men envy the greatest sorcerer of all time, and women grovel at his feet, desperate for a sprinkle of the man’s attention. Despite living the life everyone dreams to be in, the heir of the Gojo clan couldn’t care less about how the world spins around his axis. For the sorcerer has his eyes set on something much more worthy of his time and effort.
He is a man of determination, willing to achieve his goals with whatever means possible — even resorting to dirtying his own hands. It is such an irony that underneath the charming façade, such a disgusting soul exists.
“For the last time Satoru, I am not interested in dating anybody.” Heaving an exasperated sigh, you politely shoved the lavish presents piling up at your front door back into the man’s arms.
“I feel really flattered that you have feelings for me, I truly do. But I’m sure you know as sorcerers, we fight with death every day. If there is any regret that I’d dread to have ... it would be to leave everything I love behind. And I would rather die alone than leave my partner suffering on their own.”
“That’s what I love about you y/n.”
A loving sigh slipping from his tongue, Gojo took a step forward, cupping your face with utter delicacy. Yet you felt more than revolted by his sudden intimacy, struggling to writhe away from his tightening grip.
“You are always so kind, so considerate ... something I cannot find in anyone else other than you. But think about it sweetheart! You and I are both special-grade sorcerers, but I can protect you from the curses — at the same time giving you the moon and stars. We could move in together, you wouldn’t even need to work anymore. Why make your life harder when I could simply provide for you? Seriously —”
“S-Satoru, I hate to tell you this but you’re pushing the boundaries right now.” Trying to reason with the sorcerer, you spoke with a harsher tone, praying that Gojo would get the hint and respect your choices. “You’re out of your mind! And why would you force
Nonetheless, your words fell on deaf ears.
“Now this is not how you should react when someone offers you their heart and soul.” The light in his cerulean eyes darkened, cyan hues glimmering beneath the penumbra of nightfall. “And I know you are a smart young woman, so you’d come to realise what is in your best interest. I really don’t want to do this to you y/n; but if you are trying to push me away from your life again, I would have to keep you to my side — the hard way.”
With that, he pulled down his blindfold.
You were aware of how dangerous Infinite Void was; still, experiencing it first-hand was one hell of a terrifying experience. Fleeting images flashed across your vision as if all of this was in fastforward motion, depicting your fate in the past along with future. As certain blurred vestiges showed up, your heart sank in indescribable despair; moments of you and none other than Gojo were portrayed — blood splattered across the labyrinth of streets in Tokyo, your trembling hands intertwined with his, platinum bands wrapped around both of your ring fingers, adorable kids that were exact replicas of both of you. At this point, you could feel the will to fight back dwindling to fickle embers.
No matter what you did, Gojo would always find his way back to you.
Even if he had to tear the world apart with his hands.
#🖤 requests#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader#yandere jjk x reader#yandere geto#yandere geto x reader#yandere geto suguru#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#yandere gojo x reader#reader insert#x reader#yandere oneshots#yandere drabbles#yandere imagines
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Can I request a luka couffaine x reader soulmate au? Either the red string au or the seeing only the color of your soulmate's eyes till you meet them. They meet at either a rehearsal or a show for kitty section and it's really fluffy and cute?
Cyan Macaron
Luka Couffaine x Reader | ONE SHOT 🌷
"(Y/n), are you alright?" You snap back to reality when your mom spoke to you. "Yes mom, I'm okay." You were fantasizing about scenarios on how you'll meet your soulmate someday. You can't help it, almost all of your friends met their soulmates, and you? No luck. "Can you please fetch the macarons I ordered from Sabine after school?" Your mom asked. "Okay, mom, I'll get going." You picked up your things and headed out. "Take care!" Your mom yelled.
You were currently crossing the street, you're pretty early today. No running happening like some of school days. You texted Marinette that you'll drop by at their house for the both of you to walk together to school but she's not replying. 'She must be still sleeping' you started running to buy you some time before school starts because you know for sure you'll be late if you kept walking; knowing Marinette, she'll just get ready once you wake her up.
"Marinette! (Y/n) is here!" Ms. Sabine spoke up while you were waiting for her downstairs. After a few minutes, Marinette came down. "Let's go." "You're still in your pajamas." You giggled. "Oh- I'm sorry! Wait a minute!" She hurried upstairs and came down again after a few more minutes.
"So, have you met your soulmate yet?" You asked her. "No! I haven't yet." She lied. "Aww, I wanna know who's the perfect person for Ms. Clumsy-feet." You joked and the both of you chuckled. Little did you know, Marinette already met her soulmate but she's keeping their relationship from the public for safety. "I hope you'll meet your soulmate soon too." She responded to you and you just smiled at her. "I wonder what your eye color is, Mari." "You're going to find out next time. So, go get your significant other!" She patted your back.
"Hey, guys!" Alya waved her hands. "Hi, Alya." you and Marinette chimed. "I thought the both of you are gonna be late again today." Alya spoke, you noticed Marinette waved at Adrien and he smiled at her. "Hey, still can't get over your crush, huh?" You nudged her and she just rubbed the back of her neck. "I'll see you guys after school." You went to your classroom, Ms. Mendeleiev's class. Just like an another day at school, you did seat works and listened to lectures.
After the last lesson, you stretched your arms and rested your head on your desk. Someone spoke and touched your arm, you quickly looked at the person hoping for something. "Oh, it was just you, Jean. Can I help you?" "Yeah, about Ms. Mendeleiev's lecture earlier, did you write notes?" You handed your notes to him immediately. "Give it to me tomorrow, okay?"
"(Y/n)! Let's go." You spotted Mari and Alya at the doorway. You waved Jean good bye and joined your friends. "Let's go to Juleka's today." Mari invited you. "Why?" "Kitty Section is going to rehearse." "Kitty Section? The one who performed on TV?" you asked. "Yeah!" "You should come and see them, you still haven't seen them up close, right?" You nodded and then you remembered that you have to pick up your mother's macarons from Marinette's bakery. "You guys go ahead." "Hello, you don't know where they live." Alya spoke with her arms akimbo. "Liberty, right?" you checked. "Yeah." "Catch ya later!" You flee the scene and ran towards Marinette's. "(Y/n)!" Alya shouted but you were already far away. They shook their heads and chuckled.
There was quite the line at the bakery even though it's already afternoon. You waited until your turn, "Hi, Ms. Sabine, my mother's macarons, please." She handed you your mother's order and paid her. When you turned around you caught a glance of the person behind you, your eyes widened when you saw his eye color. His eyes has a luminous vivid cyan color. After seeing him you were astonished, you shifted your gaze and you could also see the other customers' eye color 'Wow.' He also looked at you and you could also see he was surprised. You came back to your senses and you were about to leave when he grabbed your arm. "Wait." He motioned at Sabine signaling her that he'll be back soon, Sabine caught on what was going on and smiled at the two of you.
The both of you went outside, he was about to say something but you spoke. "Wow, your eyes... They look like this cyan macaron." You held up a macaron compared them which made him chuckle. "I-I'm sorry, I was just so surprised." You apologized, embarrassed from what you said. "It's okay, you're quite adorable." You could feel your face heating up and you were flustered by his sudden compliment. "I'm Luka, and you?" "I-I'm (Y-Y/n)." You're quite nervous. "Nice to meet you, (Y-Y/n)." The both of you chuckled, you then remembered what you're going to do. "Oh no! I have to go, I'll see you next time." You ran heading home. "Wait! I haven't asked for your number yet..." Luka's tone of voice lowering as he realized you're getting far away.
"Where were you?" Your mom asked. "Come on, mom. I was just minutes later than usual." You placed the box of macarons on the table. You approached your mother's figure and asked her permission to go to Liberty. "Mari and the others invited me to watch a rehearsal of Kitty Section. Can I go?" Your mom faced you with her poker face then crossed her arms. "No." "Mommm." You whined with a giggle, you know your mom's messing with you. "I'm just kidding, of course you can go." "Thank you." You hugged her and went on your way.
While walking, you facepalmed. 'Nice going, (Y/n).' You realized that you just ran away and left your soulmate at the bakery earlier. You didn't even get his number, maybe you'll just meet him again from luck? Bummed out, you continued walking ignoring notifications on your phone. But it still continued ringing and all, you finally checked what it was.
Marinette's been messaging you about where you are, the rehearsal already started. (I'll be there.) you texted and ran. You spotted the lights from the ship and you knew you're at your destination. You ran and entered the ship. Nino patted an available seat for you and you sat on it. The band are wearing their costume, masks and all. Must be for the show. While sitting there the for the entire song, you didn't noticed Luka the whole time but there he was staring at you.
The band finished their song and all of you clapped, you're about to approach Juleka and the others when the person in cyan attire spoke on the mic. "I dedicate this song to... the person who's my soulmate." He looked at you and you noticed those cyan eyes. "Luka?" you uttered a loud. The gang caught on what was happening and chant their own cheers and squeals to the both of you. Luka started singing and playing his acoustic. You never imagined that this is how your soulmate meeting was gonna be, well... You met at a bakery but still didn't expect a song about you.
You were smiling the entire time. "What's my eye color, (Y/n)?" Marinette asked. "Bluebell. They're beautiful." "Yours are beautiful too." she accidentally uttered. "What?!" you whisper-shouted, she laughs nervously. "I'll get back to you later." You squinted your eyes at her. "This is my moment for now." You pretended to be angry and you guys just laughed at yourselves.
Luka finished his song and approached you. He lifted his mask and looked at you, he offered his hand and you took it then stood. He kissed the back of your palm, 'I can die now.' you thought. He kissed your cheek and offered himself for you to embrace him which you gladly accepted, no questions asked. The crowd cheer at the both you.
"You're now a song in my head that I'll never forget."
#luka x reader#luka couffaine#luka couffaine x reader#miraculous ladybug x reader#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug imagine#miraculous lb#miraculous soulmate au#reader insert#luka couffaine imagines#miraculous fandom
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Synamphoteron
Part 1 of Till The Sun Come Up, a series by @themanthemyththeverite and @worldsover
Few people get paid to have sex, the rest have to pay, and everyone has nothing else to do. You’re the sole person who can say how humanity got here, but you can’t begin to explain how you got here.
The startled starborn suffuses through smog, creeps like ice up maple bark, syrup slow, clangs past glass, clatter, clunk, and before its destination, it dances in fear of its father fire—millions of miles away, sure, but for light, those millions become minutes, so the meandering amasses. Hysterical wavelengths between dying sun red and orange of autumns forgotten seep into the room; you’re uncertain whether they complement or clash the mercuries, the xenons, the heliums in the tubes that sigh neon cyan and purple. With one arm, you lean against the window as hot coals on photonic feet give your unclad skin an ever-fresh coat of paint. That window leads to a wall of glass, leads to a concave sheet, a dome of glass, then hexagonal panes of—would you look at that, another layer of glass. Tomato-tinged air trapped behind transparent lasagna.
First measured in nanometers, electromagnetic waves transmute into meter-long air oscillations as sound shares light’s prismatic temper. "You had to send that in the group chat." Your tone is kindred to the two girls’ demeanour: annoyed, testy, like the restive, red-biased hue.
Bora sits at the edge of the bed. Her eyes could blast lasers, cook lasagna to a crisp. Tap. Tap. Her feet are purposeful and slow—a bit faster, now the count is in beats per minute. Fifty, forty-five, a dreary Largo. The rhythms accompany an implied song, a dirge that should not have percussion, yet the floor is a drum to Bora regardless.
Minji kneels and crosses her arms. The submissive stance runs counter to her irked brows, pouty lips. Nipples light and half-stiff in spite (or maybe because) of the cooking pot pressure of the enclosed space. Neatly trimmed so that your focus is on the tummy above and the sinuous folds below. You’re in full male gaze now but think of it as inspecting for clientele feedback. That’s why you’re writing it down so precisely in your memories, laser engraving every subtle line of her tits, her lithe arms. For work. Definitely. Professionals look out for professionals.
Direct your attention back to Bora. That same experienced eye discerns the contrast in her curves to Minji’s. Filled further in both of her money-makers—ass and tits—yet they command a comparable cost. Different strokes. She has writing along her cleavage. Are those notes? Closer inspection (not too close, not right now) gives a glimpse of a few words: three, Amazon, harsher. Of course, the woman would write notes on her own body.
The earth spins too slowly, the sun’s scaffolding too sound; it hangs in the sky for uncountable time. You expect a retort by now. The air conditioning is at full blast, yet sweat drips down all three of you.
Bora almost falls off the bed, leans forward, and words fail when she tries to explain. The anger between the two girls only forces your erection to admit itself, and you want to exclaim that the whole situation is silly when everyone’s stripped down to the bare essentials.
“I—”
Just when Bora finally finds her message and parts her lips, Minji interrupts. "I was first! Open your phone right now.”
She isn’t wrong. However, Bora was much closer, already at the hotel restaurant when she called you up. Even the express tunnel took an hour or so for Minji to get here. No sense in arguing because it was all your fault regardless: you made the final mistake of giving both of them your room number after much dawdling. Hindsight tells you to have canceled with each of them, maybe postpone for tomorrow, but hindsight’s a dead concept in these times—at least, that’s your excuse.
“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Bora says to Minji.
You puff up your cheeks, storing air to blow out dramatically, exasperated. “Yeah, yeah, you’re all mad, look. Since we’re all naked and, as it seems, in the mood anyway, how about we compromise?”
The two of them glare at you for the disgusting profanity. The world’s a concession, so get over it, you wish you could say. Again, you keep quiet since you find no sense in starting further arguments.
“There’s no point hiding shit between us, is there?” Your eye contact with each of them is to search for approval. Both are empty with an emotion you can’t decipher. Increased anger? Understanding? Whatever. “Minji needs practice taking dick in her throat. Bora needs to practice taking dick in new ways. Ah, Amazon position," you say as your sight inevitably falls on Bora’s tits used as a canvas.
Their glares pierce the feeble filaments of your explanation.
"I-I, uhh, look. What? I’m sharing company secrets, not even secrets, really, to company employees. Who cares.”
Try not to fall—you’ve already tripped. The signals they send between each other are palpable. Smirks, slight nods. They see through your pretense.
Or at least they think they do. This is your most potent weapon. Give them a common foe, and they’ll come to that dirty word of compromise. No, Minji and Bora aren’t best friends, but they are the kind of friends who push each other. And sometimes those pushes are mean-spirited, a toe gets stubbed, some scrapes, but they’re always forward-facing shoves. Much better than your shared past.
They glance at each other, both skeptical but with fantastical sparks in their eyes, flashes of consideration dancing in their pupils. Even the hungriest of the pack would rather secure half a meal than risk no meal at all.
“Alright,” Bora mutters, the scowl on her face still prevalent but significantly less marked. “Are we sharing or not?”
“So impatient,” Minji retorts, her tone as sharp as ever. “But fine. I’ll pity you just this once. You need the practice anyway.”
Bora’s jaw sets into a tight line, taut and irritated, her mind eagerly snatching up ammunition for an equally petty reply. It’s one you won’t allow, not tonight, not on your terms. It’s an easy endeavor to shut her up: you kiss her, silence her lips, angrily tangle your tongues, and overall overpower her until she’s forced to back down with a whimper. Then, the tide of their aggression ebbs away, both of them taken aback, clear as the heat that singes the earth above you. Let go of Bora’s chin, shove her onto her back.
“That’s enough.” You growl, glaring at both of them. “Do you want this or not?”
A clear threat. It rings in their ears like an alarm bell, a homeostatic imbalance that screams negative feedback. Though they’re aware your need equals theirs, the risk of loss is simply too overpowering.
So they act fast.
Minji, still on her knees, crawls from the other end of the room. Her usual grace is gone. Instead, she’s on her knuckles, desperate to get a piece of you before Bora eats you up.
But it’s too late. Bora gets up from the mattress, grabs your shoulders, and pushes you onto the bed to replace herself. Your legs flop off the side, and any fight you have dies with Bora’s ass firmly planted on your thigh.
You gather yourself, trying to pay attention to both at once, turning your head to watch Minji; however, Bora’s body is too warm, too close for you to ignore, and the feverish heat within you shreds your patience. It’s a futile venture, and Bora knows it.
She smirks, trailing a finger down your chest before she slowly grinds her bare pussy on your leg, an indulgent moan escaping her lips.
“Fuck,” Bora murmurs. Her head is pitched back, her hair flowing down her back in a cascade of silky brown. Her eyes are shut while a smile paints her face. “The first bite is always the sweetest.”
The mesmerizing sound of Bora’s soft moans and the dripping of her arousal onto your skin monopolize your focus, erasing the other in the room from your vision. But then the silent prayer, the quiet, almost imperceptible hum from Minji’s throat, draws you out of your Bora-induced stupor.
The two contrast in approach and tact: Bora is forceful and blunt; Minji is calm and strategic. She begs and pleads, but not with her words. Instead, with fluttering eyes, Minji looks up at the foot of the bed, sees your own feet, and plants light pecks up your free leg. And the eye contact intent flummoxes you: she wants to be in charge but wants to cede it to you as soon as she gets that control. Whines and pouts, Minji puts her soul into wresting your attention towards her.
Competition taking over, Bora gives a light kick to Minji’s shoulder as she bears her weight down on your leg, humid and heavy, a comfortable balance to Minji’s tug on the opposite side.
“Mwah, mwah.” Minji makes a point of her having her kisses up your shaft be as loud and sloppy as possible, then stops beneath your cockhead, cooing happily while rubbing her lips. “Such a gorgeous dick. Mmwah.” A short peek of her tongue laps up the spit that her smooches drool. Finally, Minji grabs your cock, slaps it on her tongue, and makes the bubbles of saliva splash and dance with joy.
“Fuck,” you groan. “Fuck, that’s good.” It’s something straight out of your wildest dreams, the erotic sounds that ring in your ears, the familiar yet exquisite feeling of Minji’s lips wrapped so messily around your cock. “T-try to… ah… use your tongue more.”
There’s no response, nothing audible, but the juxtaposition of thick, honey-like warmth to the semi-cool air of the room on your shaft is enough to tell you she’s listening if only to hear your moans.
Tips, you think. I need to give Minji tips. But fuck is it hard to process, to get even a single coherent thought past your mental facilities. Minji is such a fast learner, and she grasps the concepts you throw at her so quickly that you suspect she was only pretending in her mediocrity, only toying with you.
“R-rhythm,” you choke out, words that fall from your lips as your brain grasps for straws. “Stay m-more… hah… consistent.”
The quirk of her eyes is quizzical, and Minji tilts her head despite its preoccupation with your stiff cock in her mouth. A muffled “hm?”
“It means you’re shit at giving head,” Bora snarks, picking up on her confusion. “You think roleplaying as a slobbering puppy counts as a blowjob?”
Minji ignores her, though if the tightening of her lips is any indication, she’s more riled up than she lets on.
Actions speak louder than words, and Minji testifies to that with her efforts redoubled, trying new things with her throat; she hums and moans, swishes her head from side to side, rolls her eyes up into her head all while she plunges your cock into the deepest depths of her warm, tight, wet mouth.
Your hands grip the base of her ponytail tightly. Her eyes water as they meet yours, dark and runny with mascara before you release her, though she obediently remains glued to your shaft, still spluttering and choking all over.
It’s a moment of bliss quickly disrupted, however; while you might be in heaven, Bora is unsatisfied with purgatory. Her frustrations pile up second by second until she’s at a breaking point, the rutting of her hips on your thigh no longer enough to placate her desire.
“When’s it gonna be my turn, hmm? You better not fucking cum yet,” she hisses.
Her words almost entirely fly past you, and it’s only when you notice how her nails dig into your skin lightly—when you notice how her breasts are so soft and fluffy on your chest, when you notice the growing pool of sticky fluid on your thigh—that you pay attention. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I promise I’ll—”
Hold it in. Hold it. Despite all your comments about Minji’s oral technique, stars start to fall; you’re unsure if they’re merely a construct of the wavering mind or actual meteors outside: both equally destructive and plausible.
“Minji, please. I need you to hold off a-and when I tell you to do something...”
Somehow, a smirk on Minji’s cock-busy lips until she finally releases your glistening length with a gasp and a moan. “Fuck, your cock is delicious,” she murmurs, her voice reverent and soft, sultry and alluring. “It feels so good choking on it.”
“Oh, please.” Bora scoffs. “That was hardly anything.”
Minji’s eyes narrow. “Don’t be jealous just because he wants me on his cock instead of you.”
“That’s only because you’re hogging him to yourself!”
“Excuses, excuses,” Minji laughs. “You just can’t take this dick like I can. It’s okay to admit that.”
A roll of Bora’s eyes. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.”
Her stare is sharp, irritated, and narrowed while Minji’s gaze stays light, airy, and placid with lids wide open.
“What’s that mouth to these tits, huh?” Bora scoots up, fills your face so that you have no choice but to taste her pillowy flesh. She stirs on your leg. The folds of her slit, slick. “Or this pussy? Hmm?”
With locked knees, a hand behind Minji’s head, her arms around your waist, your length pushes past a series of subtle locks in her throat. A bit of drool like a canal.
“Dammit, I need this cock too. What a needy whore of a mommy,” Bora says as she looks at Minji teasing your shaft with puckered plosive lips, ppuh.
“You know, calling me names like that”—Minji drags her tongue up, slurps down—”is only gonna make me wetter.”
“Like I care,” she retorts. “Fucking slut.”
It’s a crown, a goddamn accolade to Minji as she ignores Bora’s heated glare, her mouth filled with stiff cockmeat. If anything, it only makes her more determined to suck the life out of you, and her cheeks hollow around your shaft, each lost layer of saliva replaced with two more until her face and hands are a mess of sticky globs of spit and ruined makeup.
“Good girl,” you huff out. Your hands stroke her hair kindly as she bears your length down her throat, holding herself there obediently despite the glk, glk, glk of her gag reflex’s protests. “Fuck, ah, mommy, that’s f-fucking perfect.”
“Take it,” Bora chimes in. “Take all of his fucking dick down your slutty throat, you whore.”
There’s no breath, no room, no sound Minji can possibly make to respond, so she settles for a weak gurgle when Bora grips her by the hair; she forcefully slams her face down into your stomach, a muffled cross between a shriek and a gasp silenced near-instantaneously.
The shock of it all would stun Minji, even if she had steadily become well-adjusted to your length. You don’t even have the breath to curse as Bora gives Minji’s helpless face a shove, then two, three, before she simply yanks Minji off of you. It’s a power vacuum that opens up, a new niche in your delicate ecosystem, and one that Bora occupies with a hunger, a drive to consume; she’s a whirlwind of biological instinct, bearing down on you and leaving a lustrous trail from your thighs past your crotch. What was already shiny with Minji’s saliva is now mixed with the varnish of Bora’s lips. Those folds entice you to assume responsibility, but you practice restraint; if you fucked your cock up into Bora without warning, there was no telling of the consequences. Hold in a bated breath, like you’re trying not to drown, which only unwinds when she weighs down on your stomach.
But one moment she’s the weight, then she’s suddenly the aggressor: beneath your legs, her arms hook so that your legs straddle her waist. She’s deceptively strong for her frame, and caution keeps your mouth shut; your confusion gives way to nonchalance. Did either of you really care all that much about the method as opposed to the means?
On the side of the bed, you notice the vexed furl of Minji’s brows, her hands through her hair, pulling on it in frustration: Minji wants to protest, wants to put up a fight, but any dispute, physical or argumentative, would be lost as she barely has a breath to catch and a gagged mess of spit and tears and sweat on her lips.
Not that you have much of a fight either, with Bora now firmly in control of your legs. She doesn’t need to say words; they’re written on her tits—Got three complaints. Need to be harsher. Amazon position. Lying on the mattress, your legs pulled up and your knees almost together, Bora squats above you. Her breasts squeeze between your calves in the air, and though you focus on the plentiful glossy flesh squishing words into scribbles—focus until dreams of that promised titjob overtake your thoughts—you can’t ignore how she bends your cock forward with her hands.
On your back, forced into docility, you’re unsure precisely what Bora was having trouble with, why she would need help at all. So instead of commenting, giving advice, breaking the scene, you play the part. “M-ma’am, are you going to put it in?”
Bora grunts, and the sound you let out at the sensation of her contrastingly delicate folds is higher, almost pathetic compared to her. “I’m not sure if you deserve it. Not giving your dick to me first.” Her free hand plays your nipples, one at a time, then trails up to your neck, sharp nails and all. Bora leaves a light red scratch mark on your jaw, which she holds crudely to make you look her straight in the eyes, not her tits. When she sees pre-cum drip from your slit, all because of a light graze, she slaps the sweat off your cheeks.
“I need it,” you whine out. “I need you so badly.”
A thumb on one cheek, the outer fingers on the other, both drive and grasp with an uncomfortable harshness that makes you drool. “Usually, begging like a little bitch works for you. Not sure what it is this time. Maybe it’s hearing this other slut whining so pathetically for your dick. Whatever. You’re my toy right now, understand? No sounds from you. Nod if you understand.”
No hesitation. Finally, Bora gives your strained cock its relief; ironic how relief comes in the form of pressure. With flexuous, loving force, she bears down and insists her warm flesh walls upon your shaft.
The mattress doesn’t feel as soft as it should. It could be from the intense gaze that tenses your whole body up as much as your cock, but it’s more likely the way her pussy throttles your shaft. An incomparable plushness. In and out. No consideration, no sacrifice for your comfort, Bora fucks herself onto your dick with the same care as a disposable dildo, and you, in the emasculating position, find your head emptier and emptier along for the ride. The characters on her Bora’s boobs bounce up and down, and you ascertain no meaning despite how hard you stare. And stare you do, immersed in the rhythmic waves of her body, her hips which slide so fluidly, her grasp on your cock, waning and waxing.
“Fuck, you’re doing such a good—” Spit gets in your mouth.
Bora looks mad, but you can’t tell; now there’s spit in your eyes. You’re unsure if you’re thankful that Bora is still riding or scared at what she might do next. The movement of her waist transitions from that self-serving swinging to a more aggressive hop, driving your back into the cushion.“What part of ’shut the fuck up’ did you not understand? Huh, toy?”
You hold back a deep groan that gurgles from your lungs by holding your own neck with your hands.
“That’s it. Know your place, whore.” Bora takes your wrists in her hands and pins you down tighter.
It’s not a unique experience to be on the receiving end of Bora’s fire and brimstone, but it’s certainly the first time you haven’t been allowed to retaliate in kind. Of course, she’s still an efficient, wild machine, her hips plump and forceful, solid and thick against your skin, but the enlightened weightlessness of your resignation heightens each ripple of her thighs as she crashes down onto you.
Words bubble up to your lips like steam from a geyser, but you choke them down; each time you want to flip her over and fuck her at your own pace, you have to swallow the urge. The suppression doesn’t help your endurance, strains your mental facilities until you’re sure your face is as red as a tomato.
At least you’re allowed to moan.
“Look at you.” She growls, her face inches from yours and equally flushed. “Look at you gasping, begging for this pussy. Do you regret choosing Minji first, hmm? Do you regret it now?”
Weakly, you struggle in her grasp, trying to pry your arms out of her pinioning hold, but it’s a fruitless effort. She smirks, though it’s evident in her hitched breaths that your cock is taking a toll on her as well.
“F-fuck, you’re lucky… your cock feels, haah, so good,” she pants out. If she’s tired, her arms aren’t showing it as you try once again to break out of this willing prison of restraint.
A moan draws you out of your tired battle, distant yet near; it’s a luscious set of thighs and calves that attract your eyes while another whimper escapes the lips of the one forgotten on the sidelines.
Bora simply laughs.
“What a slut.” Bora’s grin grows wider, though temporarily split by the spark jolted through her body by your cock. “A-ah, look at you.” She points at Minji, her legs spread wide, her fingers stuck up her glistening pussy. “Fucking slut, jerking off to this. You, haah, y-you wish you could fuck this cock like me.”
Minji’s too out of it to respond and instead rubs her clit to induce another bout of mindless mewls and whimpers. But why would she have words? She lost—end of story. And somehow, in that loss, she finds a perverse pleasure. Her eyes are cracked open; they watch Bora’s hips drive themselves down onto your cock, watch your eyes roll into your head while Bora simultaneously shatters both of your sanities.
“You want to sit on his dick, don’t you? You… a-ah, you want him… to f-fuck you like a little whore of a mommy, don’t you?”
“Mhm!” Minji whines through lips pursed too late.
“That’s right, hah. You fucking—You were always like… This dick.” The more it slides past Bora’s cunt lips, getting sorer and clingy, the more that heavy breaths take over Bora’s words until her speech is a sentence of gasps punctuated by groans. Bora’s back and forth swing slows down, her face less severe, and fingers don’t press so hard into your chest that you can feel the bones on your muscles. So she’s just as human as you are.
“Fuck, my mouth is so dry,” you say, your cock soaked silly with Bora’s juices.
“Me too.” When Bora sticks her tongue out, you take a nibble of it; close your eyes, but the wet kiss isn’t enough.
Minji gets up from her enraptured position and fetches a bottle of water from the hotel fridge—probably way too expensive for a bottle of water, considering they’ve got desalination down while sea levels are through the literal roof. In this respite moment, you take deliberate breaths as Bora’s grip on your shaft relaxes. That secretly jealous pussy even lets you go, but her fingers still curl around you to keep you hard.
“Thank fuck Yoohyeon doesn’t need practice too. My dick would really be exhausted.”
“Nah, she wouldn’t get jealous,” Bora says.
“You sure about that?” Minji asks.
“I didn’t mean exhaustion from jealousy.” You shake your head. “I meant the fact I only have one dick. Yeah, yeah, I know, get the extra implant. We’re not that far ahead that I trust mods wholly. We still live in fucking fish bowls."
"That’s fair. And I heard it’s kind of an overload having two dicks. That’s the most sensitive part. I can’t imagine multiplying that by two,” Minji says.
"Isn’t that what it’s like with you already?" Bora says. "Considering how sensitive those nipples are."
"I play it up a bit for the clients, you know." So she must want you to test that.
"Hmm." You motion to Minji. "Come here."
She’s obedient, though her demure bashfulness is an exciting ingredient added to the frothing mix, a tasteful respite in contrast to Bora’s all-encompassing control. Hands cup your face, soft and gentle; her kisses taste like home, an easy comfort to sink into, to lose yourself in. Yes, it’s messy and loud, wet and improvisatory. But mutualism, not parasitism, is the difference between Bora and Minji.
It’s by third-party intervention that you remember that respite is temporary, that breaks are short intermissions between hard labor, and by god, does Bora put you back to work. Somehow, you end up on the floor as she replaces Minji yet again, the firm muscle and sinew of her body displacing any semblance of fluffy sweetness.
And yet, the parasite returns. Though perhaps, if you really thought about it, wasn’t that you?
Minji whines and pouts from over the bed as Bora glares down at you, frustrated with your constant magnetism to Minji, irritated at your subconscious stubbornness in choice. Is it choice? Instinct? It doesn’t matter, you decide. Your cock is in Bora’s hands, after all.
Bora doesn’t even need to say a word, not with that scowl on her face, not with the way she effortlessly puts you on your back again, entwines your legs around her waist. Even the way she fucks herself onto you is evidence of her displeasure, harsh and angry, and all you can do is grunt, groan, try not to get overwhelmed by the tightness of her wet cocksleeve.
Your eyes close, flutter open and shut, over and over and over again. The world should not spin at this speed, yet it does as Bora clenches and clenches.
“F-fuck, fuck, haah,” you breathe out. Though your body stiffens in anticipation of Bora’s admonishment, it never comes. So you push the limits again. “Minji, come over h-here.”
“Stay focused on me,” Bora says, “or else.”
“Or else what?” You don’t say that convincingly enough.
Bora puts her fingers down your throat. “Going to turn you into a messy whore just like mommy over here if you keep getting distracted. But we might as well use our little fucktoy over her.”
Reluctant, Minji licks up her own juice from her hands, then slips close, crawls down from the bed, and leans to Bora’s pistoning body with wanton interest, the look of a pining lover. Their eyes meet. In defiance of animosity, the accursed word rings loud and true in their ears yet again.
Compromise.
When Bora finally releases, you gag out spit around Bora’s digits. “What… what do you want?” Minji asks, inches from her face.
“I think our boy over here wants a show. I’m not sure he deserves it, but I don’t care. I just wanna have some fun at this point. So while I fuck myself onto my dildo, I need you to give me a little extra pleasure, Minji.” At first, Minji doesn’t know where to start—neither does your mind when Bora slams her ass down, pussy a chokehold on your cock—but once Bora settles into a rhythm, the obedient woman lunges forward to make out with her.
She plays with Bora’s tits where her more modest ones still jiggle at the sympathetic force of Bora riding you wildly. The hard floor is naturally much less comfortable: your back needs to arch, and your head ends up knocking every time she weighs down on you, yet your cock only twitches more at how Bora delights in your difficulty. It twitches in the confines of her wetness, and it twitches at Minji’s renewed enthusiasm. Her hands play with Bora’s tits while she kisses the neck with hunger. Lips lower until Minji can taste the words on milky skin, licking like her tongue could clean the characters straight off.
The heat ramps, internal and external. Eventually, it’s too much, even for Bora, who gets off your dick for another breath. She drags herself up towards the bed and loses her dominant image for a second. Panting breaths from her lips. You can see the creamy glint of her pussy, the nearly frothy mess of white that lines your cock. It’s the prize for patience; it’s Van Gogh’s Starry Night (before they digitized it); it makes you want to ram your dick impatiently before she even gets up on the bed. Minji can sense your hunger, but more personal temptations have her eagerly touching herself on the side of the bed while you ready your cockhead to enter Bora once more for her doggystyle offer.
Push forward, Bora’s now slovenly slit swallowing your dick with ease. Minji’s eyes stray from Bora’s swinging tits as your pounding pace quickens, and her tongue unconsciously falls from her mouth. You mouth “come here,” and Minji squirms between Bora’s limbs without question. If only you had a mirror at the headrest to see her smirk now.
Though you’re standing behind Bora on her hands and knees, she is no less in charge. Another part of it is comparison’s sake—how quickly the other desperate woman lies underneath for a taste of your dick, even if it’d more likely be the taste of Bora’s fluids by now. Minji’s head hangs off the edge of the bed, her tongue out to tempt you. But the little whimpers and upside-down pouts can’t pull your cock away from Bora, can’t stop her from backing her ass up. Despite one hand on her thighs—the other is busy with a finger between Minji’s suckling lips—the speed and force at which those pussy lips engulf your entire self leave you helpless. Bora is the conductor of the complex symphonic rhythm. That one hand is as ice-still as the rest of you. She drives the weight of her thick ass and thighs into you, her pussy a jealous sheathe, squeezing your cock as though you might leave too long if it didn’t.
It’s a fair assumption. Minji pulls herself up, core workouts paying off, yet she only receives a few licks of your cock, too focused on matching Bora’s intensity. And it is your cock focused on the heat of it all, not you. Your mind is far beyond this melting, dying world, all because of the severe heaven Bora gives. All because of how she tightens her legs, sending pressure to your dick, and sucks up the fluids, the pre-cum for herself. The bed creaks, the bed shivers, and the variegated lights dance on her back to overwhelm your every sight and sound sensor.
Nerves mired in excitement, you’re a malfunctioning spaceship in dead orbit or empty vacuum; you are equivalent to the earth you made. (Why does the unsettling thought of the past always come up in these moments?) Minji, dick-starved, grabs your legs closer so that she can at least get your balls into her mouth. Swinging and active and tensing up, she has to give your testicles as much care as possible if she wants you to even have a chance of remembering her.
Bora looks back at you and clasps her fingers tight on Minji’s thighs, and she shudders, even giggles a bit. Then, while maintaining that relentless back and forth pace on your cock, Bora trails up to Minji’s crotch, and with no notice, thrusts fingers inside while she kneads the clit. “This is my dick,” Bora says, a slight frown that she can’t address Minji directly.
“Mmph! Aack.” A clump of gag-spit from Minji onto the floor. “F-fuck, you’re being so rough. You’re supposed to be training him, not… Nnf, not me. Can’t I at least taste some of him?”
“Girls, please—” Your speech staggers when Bora bucks her hips up in a way that stimulates your dick’s tip remarkably smoothly “—haah, fuck. When I fill up Bora’s pussy—”
She whips her head back. “Hey, who said I’m letting you—”
“You’re the one fucking your ass back into me like there’s no tomorrow.” To be fair…
“Ugh, fine. J-just, be a good fuck doll and tell me what you’re gonna do.”
“As I was saying, when I fill up Bora’s pussy, Minji,” you say, and she perks up, eyes big, “get a taste of my cum, eat Bora out like she’s eating you right now.”
You can’t imagine being in Minji’s place. There’s no such thing as exclusivity between the two of you, yet there once was. To be literally underneath the woman who made that relationship past tense must be conflicting: the very tongues and cock which betrayed her also prod her holes now. She must be even more conflicted than that, though—It’s not like she didn’t have her fair share of infidelity.
But while the emotions run high in an atmosphere that can’t support it, only the physical matters now. History fades much easier than hormones. The redder the sun, the sloppier each of you becomes. It’s less about control for Bora now, more about pleasure. Panting, sweating, messy wet pleasure. Sometimes there’s a break in your fucking rhythm to jab into Minji’s throat, and she welcomes the intrusion happily.
And so you repeat, pause, then resume this depraved continuity, a multi-faceted subject; the contrapuntal nature of Bora’s muffled moans and Minji’s frustrated whimpers are the voices that accompany your groans, the melodies that create this carnal fugue. Imbue it with passion, annoyance, joy, drama, and it’s everything any composer could ever have wanted; performers sweating, crying out their lines with the utmost honesty.
Bora’s lines are the least articulate, muffled by Minji’s dripping pussy stuffed in her face, almost as much as your cock is buried in Bora’s own warmth, though Minji’s free to sing and sing and sing, on and on as she hits every note perfectly. Pitch hardly seems to matter considering how effortlessly her voice slides across the register, up and down, alto to tenor to soprano.
You wait for it to come back down, to shimmer back down in waves of sound, but it doesn’t; her voice finally begins to waver and crack, her mouth hesitating around the edges of your shaft as her hands find purchase in the back of Bora’s thighs. Though you can’t see or feel the contractions of her core, can’t savor the wash of her juices that greet Bora’s lips like a geyser, you can still watch her body tremble, watch as her eyes roll up into her head while she mindlessly slobbers on your cock.
“S-shit,” Bora groans out, her tongue still licking and teasing away at Minji’s clit, ignoring her audible wails. “Pound me, a-ah...ah, haah, ah, fuck.”
There might even be a muted note of desperation in her voice, but you choose to ignore it and instead focus on her walls’ rhythm. It’s as though the symphony has gone mad and its conductor has fallen victim to crazed acceleration. Your cock isn’t in a position to complain, drenched in her folds yet still clenched down on tightly.
She must be tired; the locomotion of her body slows, though you make up the difference readily. Slam into her, a snap of the hips sharper than the sharpest staccato, and it’s the first time she lets out an audible shriek while her legs quiver.
“Oh, oh god, you better, ugh, haah, f-fuck me harder, you stupid toy.” The words contradict the complete lack of irritation.
But still, you play your part—can’t screw it up now. Your submission is practically muscle memory, a blur under the pressure, so you repeat the motif again, again, again, until Bora’s hips are hardly moving and she’s simply letting you rail her into the bed.
Even Minji, still twitching from Bora’s overstimulation, joins in, eagerly laps at Bora’s dripping cunt, an eye for an eye. Bora scrambles to stuff her face in a pillow, deaden the scream that escapes her lips as she climaxes on your cock with anything but poise and dignity.
Her quivers are like earthquakes, each pulse of her insides scrambling your own instrument, an overdose of rosin to your bow. The sound it produces is scratchy and rough, pulled from your throat unwillingly, an inevitable cadence that leads to the coda. The final chords strike in your stomach, ring out as your hips clash against Bora’s ass, once, twice, then nothing but stars as your climax arrives, nearly lost in the already frenzied chaos of bodies—the spike of excitement straight to your brain cannot be ignored. Pleasure wrought not only by the clamp that Bora has on your cock, but by the fullness of her ass that smacks back and the needy hands and lips of Minji underneath.
“Fuck.” The singular swear summarizes your myriad thoughts condensed into a burning gas ball of fusion. Your balls twitch.
For each ceaseless thrust, a shot in the dark. Cum fills Bora’s pussy more and more; her thirsty slit spills over, past the suction of your lips, creating its own lubrication to escape. Another rush to your head, and you hold onto her buttcheeks for dear life, spread them apart, let your cock pulsate to its heart’s content. Bora’s low, satisfied groans pale in comparison to Minji. Eaten out by Bora, given nothing but the residue semen your pistoning shaft impels out, it’s no wonder that Minji whimpers and mewls that audibly.
“Didn’t you have orders, Minji?”
Minji exits her trance with a wide-open mouth to catch the sticky stream that spills with every shove of your cock, but more and more of the milky load gets on her face—nothing wrong with that for you, but she cannot waste a single drop. So any last bit of reticence drops to the wayside as she exerts her abdominal strength to bring her mouth up to Bora’s pussy. It takes even more of Minji’s strength as Bora eats her out relentlessly, and it takes deft lips for Minji to catch your cum while your cock winds down its rampant ramming. Pulling out is a gradual process but one that Minji gives gratitude by kissing and licking your shaft on the way.
Bora’s knees and elbows slack, barely attempting not to crush Minji while the two of them lap each other up as though the competition never ended. An unfair confrontation since Minju gets the motivation to taste more of your seed. Having already had much fun with Bora’s pussy and Minji’s mouth, you join Bora at the head of the bed where a pile of pillows lies, where Minji’s legs quiver yet at Bora’s punishing fingering in addition to the lip service. Give Bora a kiss, give Minji’s pussy a kiss, and the slick and the drool would concoct a bar-worthy drink if Bora weren’t already enjoying her dessert for so long.
You’d think she would get tired at some point, but she only stops eating Minji out after Minji is done cleaning up the creampie flood. When Bora finally flops onto her back, lying next to Minji’s feet, you see Minji lean her head forward and show off her tongue—topped with cum one moment, gulp, perfectly clean the next.
Between you and Bora heaving and sighing, Minji sits up and looks at you two. “So.”
“So,” Bora replies.
They both look at you. “Fine, that wasn’t much of a training session at all.”
Minji giggles, crawling over you to sandwich you between her and Bora. Bora scoffs. You turn on your side towards her, but she turns too, facing away from you and towards the window. Then, when you flip to Minji, she has her frazzled hair in her hands and quickly falls asleep. Unsure, confused, you lie back and stare at the concrete ceiling, imagining stars.
Imagination manifests in more literal subliminal processes: Two simulations run on virtual memory, which temporarily overrides your consciousness and creates a split timeline at a turning juncture in the decision tree. After all the gratification, the first false reality seems too greedy because you cuddle with Minji for a smattering of praise and light kisses. Warmth falls like rain from her fingertips even as she takes you back inside her, and for a moment, there’s guilt and regret, the lamentation of the light you lost. It must be written in her eyes as well, a longing haze of slow-burning sex which clouds both of your judiciousness.
The second fabrication is bitter, angry, and purely lustful, your muscles coiled with frustration and annoyance. Why should Bora get to slap you around, tell you what you can and can’t do? After all, your desire is mutual. And so you push and push, seize your place back from her grasp. Your hands yank her by the hair and pin her down to the bed. She might scream, moan; you might join her in that, but what matters is the satisfaction at the end. That relief joins you in deep slumber on ruined sheets.
Inward. Downward. Your dreams lead you toward an unknown center, but there must be an endpoint. And therefore, your dreams slam you up into a lonely, wakeful truth in which no amount of glass outside can clarify the enigmatic machinations of Bora and Minji. The bed big enough for three is only filled with a single you. Frustration escapes you in one sigh; sleep reclaims you as your eyes close once again, as though the veil of darkness might hide you from the scorching brightness of the world outside.
The past has gone and slipped away; there is no future. So when will you have time to untangle this mess? Two falsities intertwine in a double helix—the snarl of memories gets worse—and though slow to boot up, your mind is ablaze once again: The startled starborn suffuses through smog...
#kpop smut#dreamcatcher smut#male reader#reader insert#worldsover#themanthemyththeverite#collab#tillthesuncomeup
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I am bored so here is my empires smp eyebrow hcs for every character, from the perspective of an eyebrow reviewer. Complete with a rating 1-10. (these ratings are based on what I personally find the coolest in character designs, definitley not a stance on beauty. Don't take this seriously, this is crack at it's finest)
fWhip
fWhips eyebrows gains points for being very blocky and thick, but looses some for lacking in the "bushy" category. He also doesn't do any maintaining of them, which isn't always nececary of course, but it makes the lack of bush all the more dissapointing. Points for matching his hair color though.
7/10
Gem
Gem has the same genetical eyebrows as her brother, but makes an effort to trim them down to something thinner and rounder. Those two added crystal piercings just tie the whole thing together perfectly. Great maintenance and great sense of style. Still not bushy but honestly the thinner more modest eyebrows are a better fit for her. I have nothing bad to say about it.
10/10
Jimmy
Well, given I have never seen the Codfather without the cod head I can't actually give a full review or rating.
?/10
Joel Smallishbeans
Like fWhip they are more blocky in shape, and very thick and full. They're a bit thinner than the count's though, and clearly maintananced to get them so clean at the edges. He has even embraced a unibrow, although the strands are a bit smaller and more spaced out in the middle compared to the rest. If that is due to genetics or trimming I can't tell. I am very happy the king of Mezelea put some effort into his eyebrows, seeing that the kingdom is full of clones, and they're very close to being a ten. The only thing that keeps them from that spot is the lack of decorations. Some piercings in the mezelean color sceme or an eyebrow slit would really bring the whole thing together.
9/10
Joey Graceffa
What. In Xornoth's name. Is that. You should have stopped at the eyebrow slit my man, not go down the rabbithole of weird eyebrow trends. Why are there two more than normal?? Why is that one braided?? Why are they all rainbow, don’t you have any color coordination?? Although I am usually all in favour of added percings and makeup, there is a limit that you have crossed miles ago! This is a mess, but now that I've seen what you're capable of I'm just glad you didn't just spell out "Xornoth" up there(that is NOT a suggestion, I repeat, NOT a suggestion). Point for spirit, just tone it down like 80%.
1/10
Katherine
Very elegant, round shapes with a little bit of bush at the inner points that makes them look a little bit like grass. Not as unique as some of the others but they work well.
7/10
Lizzie
I- she doesn't even have eyebrows, she's a fish.
0/10
Mythical Sausage
Ooo very nice. We have some thick round shapes again but this time the bush is present! There's even a bit of an eyebrow slit, this is great. I do wish he had perhaps some black stud percing or an iron ring, but otherwise some really good eyebrows.
9.5/10
Pearl
It's not that she doesn't *have* eyebrows, it's just that they're so close in color to her skin color that they look nonexistent at first glance. She doesn't seem to do any eyebrow maintnence as well, the strands seem a bit frazzled. Maybe it's a good thing you can't see them.
4/10
Pixl
Modest brown eyebrows. They're alright, just a bit blring. More round in shape, a bit bushy but not a lot. The strands are quite curly and doesn't fall straight, which is natural for folks who don't really care for their eyebrows.
3/10 out of spite
Scott Smajor
This is some of the greatest bush I have ever seen! I have to ask for his routine if ever given the chance. Once again we have a hint of a bushy unibrow, although not as pronounced as king Joel's. Each strand seems to be cyan as well, matching is hair perfectly in hue. Normally I would suggest piercings for an added flair, but these brows speak for themselves and emperor Scott is already enough of a flair as it is.
10/10
Shubble
Very cute small dot-eyebrows. I believe this is a gnome thing perhaps? Either way they're adorable, I can't think of any way to improve them.
10/10
#idk either#empires smp#empiresblr#fwhip#geminitay#jimmy solidarity#joel smallishbeans#joey graceffa#katherine elizabeth#ldshadowlady#mythicalsausage#pearlescentmoon#pixlriffs#scott smajor#shubble
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i was gonna draw tonight but i dropped my tablet pen and the barrel of the pen broke off and flew somewhere underneath (??) my bed (?) and now i cant find it so I’m just gonna answer asks before bed instead. just some art asks and more mentions of infinity train LOL
What program and brushes do you use when making your art?
@ravki hi! part of this is in my FAQ but i’ll say it again anyways LOL: I use photoshop CC and have used photoshop for pretty much....my whole art career. I’ve dabbled in clip and paint tool sai in the past but photoshop is my true wife, we eloped away from her awful father adobe many years ago and are very happy together.
as for brushes... I should prob put this info in my FAQ too lol,... my default brush set is actually free to download here! Tho I will say I also use steve ahn’s storyboarding brush sometimes and lately i’ve been using shiyoon kim’s brushes A TON. Shiyoon’s cost a couple bucks but they’re super worth it imo
How do you choose colors?
This is kind of a difficult one to describe from scratch but hmm.... I’ll put it this way. Generally when I go into coloring or painting something I already have some colors in mind. Like for a certain piece I know I want a bright green, or a magenta, or a dark blue in certain areas. A lot of the time I know a mood I want. So I’ll start with that core color tone and build around it. I’ll use an example from a recent piece
So you can see here that the first color I accessed was that bright cyan. So I start with that bright cyan and then bring in its “friends” in the form of analogous colors (shown below on the far left)
greens greys etc. THEN I know I want the characters to stand out against all the blue so I start laying down warm contrasting colors for them (middle group). the mat under them is orange, skin tones are warm, ryans flannel is red etc. then to get them to work together I work more cool colors into the shadows and slightly warmer (not too warm because its a cool img overall so in this case, greener LOL) colors into highlights.
hope that makes sense? for me choosing colors is a lot about story and composition. If you know what you want to say, the mood you want to create, where you want to go, the path to get there becomes a lot clearer imo.
Have you ever considered making an art book?
I have! But I don’t think I currently have enough...original illustrations for one LOL? Not that an art book has to be all original work but if I were putting fanart in an art book...at that point I’d just make a fanzine. I’m making more original work lately though so maybe this year....? Who knows. For now, I do have a sketchbook up on gumroad. Hoping to do one of those next year too.
Any tips for keeping background drawings from getting super stiff, especially since things like interiors have a lot of straight lines?
This is a really interesting ask. Really great question that I don’t think gets asked enough - forgive me if I get a bit art school here but I drew up some examples.
First I think we have to investigate the assumption that straight lines make things stiff. That seems true on an instinctual level and certainly proves to be true very often But I don’t think its actually the straight lines themselves but the sort of arrangements and compositions they tend to dictate. Take this for instance.
pretty big difference, right? there’s a couple things that make a composition feel stiff and one of the most significant is lines that are perpendicular and parallel to the frame. it feels locked in and solid, like bricks. but the moment you shift these angles even a little the composition instantly becomes more dynamic because our innate senses of weight, gravity, and directionality can sense movement.
But it’s not just diagonals let’s take this one step further
when lines meet and terminate together those tangents can flatten and lock space so the best way to solve this is with overlap and complete intersection, forms continuing past or behind each other feel more layered and less like a flat mosaic... again, even in the simplest line drawings. So how do we apply this to a background?
ok I drew this really fast so its potentially not the best example but I think the idea is there. This space isn’t even particularly deep, it’s basically a room, a doorway, and a hallway behind it, and we’re not seeing that much of any of those things LOL. but when you draw an environmental object like a doorway in a way that lines up with the perpendicular and parallel lines of the canvas you’re automatically flattening it and making it look rigid.
and when you create tangents with objects and characters you flatten the space around them and make it difficult to tell what is actually in front or behind or if they’re on the same plane.
GOD I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE. Anyways. avoid those things and you’ll instantly have less stiff bgs no matter what kind of bg you’re depicting.
I wanna mention however that this isn’t to say a stiff bg with flat space doesn’t have its purposes.
sometimes you want to create parallels and tangents. it can make characters feel closed in, trapped, regimented, part of a routine, etc. it’s also great for making a composition look ornamental (especially combined with symmetry).
directors like wes anderson can even use these compositional elements to make images feel uncanny or harrowing! its very versatile. I think the important thing is to just be aware of when you are making something rigid and when that’s the last thing you want to do. conscious choices.
Can you speak Tagalog?
@lemuelzero101 I can! BUT NOT VERY WELL LOL ;;; both my parents are from Visayas! but they met and had me in the states lol so I’m pretty American born and raised. We go back to visit family on occasion but not regularly. My tagalog is mostly absorbed from listening to relatives at parties lol and my parents speak bisaya at home so I’m marginally better at that. Sorry to any filipinos out there hoping I’d be better educated, I’m like a little baby...
I do love meeting and talking to other filipinos online though, I grew up in an area that was relatively diverse but the asian population was small and the filipino population basically non-existent. I was like one of maybe 2 filipino kids in my highschool of 2000.
Apart from infinity train what shows are you watching now? Have you seen jujitsu kaisen?
Man this is gonna sound so boring but I haven’t watched a lot of tv lately. It’s not really part of my daily routine. Let’s see... I was sort of watching Amphibia, Craig of the Creek, and the new Digimon Adventure 2020 but I keep falling off watching those for one reason or another. Also there’s a lot of episodes, it doesn’t feel like something I can just binge and be done with.
The last thing I binged was Succession. I want that show and Euphoria back so bad, when I’m done forcing all my friends to watch Infinity Train im cancelling my HBO subscription until Succession and Euphoria return so they know exactly what I’m on their list for LOL.
I have not watched jujitsu kaisen but I’ve kept up with some of the sakuga news (I keep up with anime industry news and production info like x5 the amt i keep up with actual anime) for it and their compositing/editing looks dope. I’ve read the manga actually LOL or at least part of the beginning. I wasn’t super keen on the whole finger eating thing. Also to be honest I kinda feel like its the new Bleach and I never particularly cared about Bleach. Characters look nice enough tho. I wholeheartedly support jjk fans.
Thank you! Thank you @keznodzieja! <3
And thank you anons who don’t watch infinity train LOL...it’s always nice to hear when people enjoy my fanart despite not knowing the source material because it lifts a little bit of the “oh god am I being annoying???” fear off my chest. But also I think you should watch infinity train because it’s really good I have no reservations recommending it.
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