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nkogneatho · 3 months

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𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

—cw: this is just hella angst and a lil fluffy, character death, jjk au but altered a bit, megumi is reader's son and toji and reader are couples so don't get this twisted because of the tags.

—a/n: please cry. or do inhave to cut onions??? no but fr i was sobbing hard while writing this because yaknow how much i love my man :(( please give feedbacks tho i love reading them.

your eyes were resting close. there was sense of guilt, panic and fear gnawing megumi as he sat on the stool next to your hospital bed. there were a million reasons he could've prevented this. a million. but what is supposed to happen, happens. if he rushed home quicker, you, his mother wouldn't be lying on the hospital bed right now. if only he would've been aside you, keeping you company instead of on a mission, he would've saved you from those corrupt sorcerers. but it happened. and now he was scared, praying every god to turn back time or save you somehow even when the doctor's had announced you wouldn't make it.

you fluttered your eyes open, and slowly adjusted your head to meet your son who was resting his face in his hands, probably sobbing.

"me-gumi..."

"MOM?" his voice was drenched in panic and fear but he eased it out, making sure not to startle you. "you're fine. you're completely alright. just rest and go to sleep okay?"

"since when do you lie to your mom?" he was stunned you caught his lie "i know...i know my body better than anyone else," you stated. his lips quivered in guilt. poor boy. why does he blame himself for everything?

"gumi?" he couldn't form words so he just replied with a hum. "it's not your fault. i don't blame you for anything."

"but—"

"you're the best son i could ever ask for. i know i didn't give birth to you, but not once i ever felt like you weren't my son...not on—not once did i ever feel like you weren't a part of my heart...", a tear rolled of his eye. "so don't blame yourself or you'll be insulting my heart."

"you are the best mother ever." you chuckled lightly because you remembered once he brought an essay home with the same topic. "my mom is the best mom in the world," in his crooked handwriting and drawing of you and his dad holding hands with him. oh right. dad. he knew it was his dad that he fought in shibuya when you told him when he was finally ready. he spiraled into a emotional mess to gulp everything and then your words finally cleared the blurry pictures he had in his head of his childhood.

"is there something you want me to tell your dad when i meet him?" megumi stopped breathing for a few seconds before he finally let out a sigh.

"tell papa...i am sorry." megumi and toji never really had that deep and close father-son bond. there as never a right time in their life.

"he is not mad at you megumi. we're—we're parents. we will always love our child even when they hate us. and you hated him for the right reasons." he was in the verge of sobbing. "megumi...look at me." he lifted his head to meet your eyes. "your dad loved you. he really did. and i am sure when i meet him...he will ask about you first."

"promise me you'll be my mom again in the next life?" he offered his pinky.

"i promise." you entagled your pinky with his.

"i love you mom." you smiled. you didn't say it back. you didn't need to. he knew that you loved him so much.

megumi gently took your hand resting on the hospital mattress and tucked it between his palms. he was warm. or maybe it was your blood running cold. colder and colder till you shut off your eyes, the smile disappearing as your muscles relaxed and heart gave up. megumi's eyes lost inq containing the river of tears and they finally rolled down.

*sounds of waves*

you opened your eyes to bright blue sky mirroring on the ocean, the waves emerging and lacing your feet, the sand tickling your toes. you looked around to find something else but it was all just...beach. till your eyes fell on someone they've been starving to see for years. your husband. the love of your life was right in front of you.

toji smiled and you exhaled in relief, but the exhale bought the years of pent up pain appear on your face, making tears fall constantly.

"i waited for so long, baby." god, his voice. you missed it so much.

you ran. you ran till you were in the arms of your lover, and toji embraced you like he would never let go. "i am here." you cried and he did too. his lips pressed against yours so tightly. he stopped to look at you and ponder at your beautiful face. a face everyday that he tried not to forget. he never could but now you were here finally.

"how's megumi?"

"that idiot. always blaming himself. did you mention how shitty i was?"

"he said "tell papa i am sorry, ha."

toji laughed.

"i did. but he still loves you." you both thought it was funny. "he's your son after all. doesn't show it, but he's stubborn like you inside."

"i am not stubborn."

"yes you are. you got yourself killed even when i told you not to. you left me alone to survive in a world without you even when i told you don't. do you know how hard it was everyday to live without you, toji?" your words getting a little unclear towards the end as you sobbed and yelled.

toji hugged you once again. "i am sorry."

"you should be!"

"i know." he kissed your forehead. "why don't you tell me what happened all these years while we take a walk on a beach?" your puppy eyes peered up at him. "we have forever now."

#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #megumi angst #jjk fluff #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk drabbles

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two-white-butterflies · 7 months

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post mortem | part five

Description: Six thieves gather hostages and lock themselves in the Royal Mint of Spain - a criminal mastermind by the alias of the Dragon manipulates the police to buy them enough time to print money. (money heist au)

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader, and Aemond Targaryen x Reader.

Rating: Mature 18+

series masterlist | part four

(BEL-AIR, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. COLE ESTATE.)

Alicent Hightower knew the price of fortune - all of the material things she had in this life was because of her hard work. She was born in a small village; Bohoniki. It was engraved in her mind that the only way that she'd escape poverty was to study hard. - and study, she did.

Studied so hard that her eyes were strained after a few years - and when the exam results came out - she was thrown away, casted aside for some hot-shot heiress that would probably waste the opportunity of going to college. That was the day that she vowed to work - to step on whoever's corpse it took to have what she wanted.

But she was a woman.

She always had to be a victim against other people's actions. She worked hard to get accepted into a new university, but she ends up falling in love with her Economics Professor. He was beautiful - with silver hair that went past his shoulders. She was enthralled with the way that the words spewed out of his mouth. She had three beautiful children with him - same in temperament, same in looks.

You could take a girl out of the cold, but not the cold out of the girl.

Sooner or later, she'd become the abuser too. She left her family for a businessman - a man that could provide the life that she desired - was it her fault? Partly, but now it's come to bite her.

"Aegon has always been a mischievous child. I don't know why - we always provided him everything that he wanted. Maybe, that was the reason - he had everything and nothing in this world made him happy. But stealing made him happy - he says that it excites him." Alicent cleared her throat, stirring her tea clockwise.

"- it's not the first time that the cops have knocked on my door." she chuckled bitterly, assuming that what had happened was a minor thing - a small shoplifting incident that would be fixed with a few hundred dollars.

"What Mr. Aegon Targaryen has done - is of a different level, Congresswoman. We'll need your help to get him back." Corlys smiled. The government airlifted him to USA the moment they found out about Aegon's identity. What they were doing needed to be stop - before it could become a precedence for other terrorists.

"Get him back? Is he lost?" Alicent joked again. Corlys' demeanor shifted, and he leaned back on the sofa. "He is a terrorist," he said bluntly, and the atmosphere slowly turned dull. "Is this about the PETA Organization again? He's a soft hearted boy," she reasoned and the man shook his head, placing a yellow file on the coffee table.

She quickly placed the teacup beside her - hands shaking as she reached for the file. "The Royal Mint of Spain: Currently Occupied by Terrorists." the headline read out, a picture of her son in the bubble beside the drawing. Her lips shudder, fingers touching the picture.

How long has it been since she's last seen a photograph of her son? Those chubby cheeks still remained, but his eyes were down-set and his eye-bags were more prominent. "This is not real, whatever game you're playing Inspector Corlys - it's not funny. Especially now that election season is moving closer." her voice turned stoic.

"I am afraid that it is not a game - The Government of Spain is losing money in their attempts to quell this act of terrorism. One of the accused is your son, and you will help us if you want to win the reelection." he threatened, placing the deal more bluntly - aware of how politicians could turn and twist narratives. "I can just deny his existence, there are no records that the boy is mine." Alicent's face suddenly turned cold.

Corlys resisted the urge to roll his eyes - the Congresswoman's poker face was as stupid as her platforms. "You and I both know that you're not going to do that. Parents love their children more than anything, even when they are the shackles that bind us." he stated, taking a nonchalant sip of his chamomile tea. Alicent breathes a sigh of relief, partly afraid of what they'd ask her to do next.

"How am I going to help you? In Aegon's eyes, I'm good as dead." she scoffed, unable to entertain the notion that her children still loved her. She didn't deserve their love, neither their time. "What year did you leave Spain, congresswoman?" Corlys inquired and her teeth burrowed into her lower lip. "Twenty-one years ago," she answered.

"Your son was 2-3?"

"4 or 6. I'm not sure," she replied - in a tone that told her that she still loved her children. "A little too young, but still old enough to realize that you abandoned him." he further explains, taking something out of a separate folder. He places it on the coffee table. In all bold letters, she could barely make out the outline of her son's name.

MY MOTHER, MY HERO By Aegon Matthew Targaryen

Her eyes trailed up - until she was staring deep inside of the Old Snake's eyes. She'll do everything it takes to save her son, even risk her political career.

(EIGHT HOURS INTO THE HEIST.)

"Is he going to be alright?" Rhaenyra couldn't help but inquire. She's only been around her brother as much as there were fingers in her hands, but she's grown to love him. She loves him the same way that a woman loves her son. The thought of him possibly dying - it didn't sit well with her. "There's a bit of bleeding, but Mysaria had it fixed." Daemon responded, and his niece raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we weren't allowed to use real names?" she placed a hand on his collar, straightening his zipper with rehearsed ease. "Force of habit," he shrugged while freeing himself from her grasps. It was impossible to stay sated around his niece - around a beautiful girl. When she came into his life - he rebuked her. He couldn't understand why his older brother would adopt his ex-wife's daughter.

Aemma cheated on him with a barber - now after she's died of Cancer. Viserys still loves her. Loves her more than he loves Daemon. He couldn't stand the girl, that's why he left for college - he'd rather live in another country than watch his brother play house.

"Does the Professor know that his son is bleeding?" Rhaenyra asked, staring into the camera - knowing that her father was watching from behind it. "He doesn't need to know, worst comes to worst, we'll need better medical care." Daemon took a sip of his cappuccino. "Does that mean that he's stopped bleeding?" she frowned and he shook his head. "Stop babying him, it's a fucking scratch." he placed the mug loudly on the ceramic table - carefully retreating into the halls before anything else happened between them.

Daemon prepared another cup of instant coffee, surprised to see Aemond cleaning his bandaged wound. "What are you doing?" his nephew sanitized the skin around the gash, Daemon takes a mammoth stride towards the window - watching the police prepare their camp around the Royal Mint. "Just because we're on the clock, doesn't mean that there isn't time for slacking off." he responded.

Turning to look at his nephew - whose attention was plastered back into that bleeding piece of skin. "I hope you don't mind, but I haven't told Volantis about this little injury yet." he pointed at the young boy and Aemond frowned. "Why would she need to know?" he acted oblivious, adding more fuel to Daemon's anger.

"You're clearly together," he gritted his teeth - voice full of envy. It was unfair! He fucked the girl first, but his nephew was reaping late game rewards. "We're not." Aemond responded bluntly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "Explain to me why there's always a moaning contest in her room, then?" Daemon scoffed. "Is she always stretching? Watching a horror movie perhaps?" Daemon antagonized, watching his nephew throw a piece of cloth angrily.

"I don't care if she's learning pilates or watching fucking Annabelle. I just want to get my money and get out of here." Aemond could feel his patience running thin. "You wouldn't mind then, if I made her my wife?" Daemon smiled mischievously. Aemond was just about to reply, but Aegon suddenly barges inside the room.

"You have to look at what's happening outside. It's urgent!" the boy's panicked voice caught their attention. "What is it?" Aemond groaned - aware that he was unable to walk due to his injury. "Mother." Aegon whispered, and the room's atmosphere dulled.

(TWENTY-TWO YEARS BEFORE D-DAY.)

Alicent couldn't stand staring at her children. They'd cry all the time - and she couldn't stand their constant need for her attention. "Aemond please stop crying, I don't know what to do." she cried, holding her son close to her chest.

It was going to be four hours before her husband returned, and by then, he was going to be too tired to take care of children. It was unfortunate because he was the only one who knew what to do. Viserys was the only one responsible enough to maintain a home.

"He's probably hungry," Aegon peeked through the dark living-room. Alicent could feel more tears flow out of her irises. Her son needed milk, and she was too stupid to even think about that. "Yeah, yeah. Uhh Aegon can you please call Peepaw for me. I-I need help." she stuttered - ashamed of her stupidity.

---

"You shouldn't have called me at this time, I had a sermon today." Otto scolded his daughter, removing his coat and placing it on the rack beside the door. "I didn't know what to do - the kids haven't stopped crying since their father left." she sobbed.

"I always told you that having children this young was a mistake. Imagine, you're only eighteen and you already have two-children? It is an abomination, Alicent." her father scolded, and she could only bow her head in the face of his criticism. She severely needed his help.

He reached for Aemond who was fussing in Alicent's arms. "I didn't have a choice, you told me that I'd go to hell if I didn't marry Viserys." she grimaced, and his dark glare returns. "Premarital Sex, Alicent. I couldn't allow you to sin." he gritted his teeth. His face softened, seeing the familiar figure of his favorite grandchild. "Aegon," he smiled before turning to his daughter.

"Go and rest, I will handle everything."

@fan-goddess @marvelescvpe @theshatteredideal @acollectionofcells1 @mxacegrey @bellstwd @nyctophilic0vitnir @icarusgloom @pearlstiare @themotherofblood @immyowndefender @ammo23 @ladywin17

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader

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malereader-inserts · 1 year

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A Friend in Death

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Tony Stark & Male!Reader Summary: Death is something to fear and yet Tony sees him as if he's an old friend Word Count: 1,766

"Have you ever met death?"

Tony looked up from his tinkering to look at Peter, who had stopped doing his homework to ask such a dark question. Peter was naturally curious about everything and that's why Tony liked the boy, but sometimes his curiosity could be so morbid.

"Oh, yeah, we're like good friends."

"That's...." Peter trails off before meeting Tony's eyes, "Not comforting."

Peter looked somewhat worried, Tony would go back to his tinkering, but he knows the boy's tendency to keep the conversation going. He waited for Peter to gather his thoughts, he watched Peter straighten his back before leaning his arms against the worktable.

"But, didn't Thor tell us about his sister Hela? Isn't she the goddess of death?"

"Yes, for them and anyone who worships them. But, the death I met, is, let's say, universal. This is the death that is waiting for you, picking you up to take you to the afterlife. Death comes to those who don't believe, half believe and anything in between."

"And you've met him?"

"More than I would like, and he could probably say the same."

"What's he like?"

"You know you're not supposed to be here."

Tony gasped awake and was met with (e/c) eyes. They were inviting but at the same time cold. Tony slowly sits up, his eyes focusing on the figure in front of him, who was crouched next to him

"Who are you?"

"I don't think you'd like the answer."

"Oh, god," Tony shudders, his mind racing and if this is what he is thinking, then it was justified reason to start panicking, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Yes and no."

"What?" Tony was confused, tilting his head to the side with furrowed eyebrows, "You're death."

"That I am, but you're in limbo as you humans call it - You're dead but not fully if you get me," You say softly, holding a hand out to him, "And call me (y/n), I found that humans feel more at ease being around me when they don't call me death."

"(Y/n)?" Tony was very confused by this whole situation, you drop the hand knowing Tony would not take it, "Also, you look like one of us."

"Eh, I picked it out from the handful of human names and animal names I've encountered and thought it suited me. Trust me, I've been through so wild names, but I like (Y/n)," You shrugged your shoulders then continue to answer his questions, "Also, human form puts you, funny little humans, at ease. I'm not completely heartless. But, if you prefer my other form-"

"No!" Tony exclaimed, you raised an eyebrow at him, "No, this is somewhat....comforting?"

"Well, that's good."

There was silence between the two of you. Tony looks at you, and you looked back expectantly and again, a hand stretched out, waiting for more questions - after all, you are one of the only beings who had answers.

"So, what do you mean I'm not fully dead?"

You sighed, knowing Tony wouldn't take your hand as you stand up, stretching your back - as if it did anything for you. Tony stayed on the floor, his eyes staying on you.

"I mean that you're not to supposed to die yet," You explained, giving him a pointed look, "It's not your time yet, you have a few more years to go."

"A few!?"

"Poor choice of words, few can be ten, fifteen, twenty years from now."

"Right."

"So, I'm sending you back, no hard feelings alright? I'll see you in a few."

"Did you miss me?"

Once again, Tony gasped awake, this time looking around him, last time he was here he didn't take notice of his surrounding. He noticed that he could see his body, and-

"Don't pay attention to that," You say, drawing his attention to you, "You've made quite a mess in New York, haven't you?"

"You speak to me as if I'm a child."

"Well, in comparison, you are."

Tony huffs, taking his eyes away from you. He swears this is his fourth, maybe fifth time meeting you. After almost dying to his godfather and a palladium poisoning. He doesn't really want to acknowledge you yet as he can see Thor, Steve and Hulk towering over him. He sees the wreckage that Loki had brought upon New York.

"Did it work?"

"Huh? Oh, flying the missile up to the wormhole, yeah, it worked."

"So, I'm dead."

You chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest, "No."

"But-" You give him a pointed look, "Right, limbo, not my time yet, gotcha."

You nodded before placing a hand on his shoulder, "You're an interesting being I do have to say, Tony."

"I think I should be flattered?"

"I see too many people walk through limbo, ready to accept their fate in their afterlife. It's rare to see someone come here and not be accepted by the afterlife, not once but multiple times."

"Perhaps, there's a reason."

"It's not ready for you, Tony," You softly soothe him, even in your presence he seemed to relax, "Trust in me, Tony, for I am death and I know when I will be taking you. You still have to show the world that you're Tony Stark, you still have a lot of growing to do before you come to me."

"Are you sending me back?"

"I can't hold you here any longer, so yeah."

"Uh, I think I'm ready, I wasn't ready last time."

You smirked at him, placing your fingers on his forehead. Pushing it back to the land of the living.

"I'm starting to think you like me."

"I promise you I am not doing it on purpose."

You chuckled, this time upon meeting, you had your scythe. It was exactly what he imagined it to be and more. It stood up by itself, and he could see black smoke swirling up the scythe. He looks at you, and you stared at him sincerely, your arms crossed over your chest and leaning against your scythe.

"I'm starting not to believe you."

"Well, I guess I have to visit a friend every so often," Tony shrugs as you rolled your eyes, "We are friends right?"

"I guess, you've seen me more than I like."

"So, what's my cause of death this time?"

"You're horrible, you know that?" You say in amusement before standing straight and grabbing your scythe, "You really need to learn who to trust, Tony."

"Steve?"

"Used your father's shield and smashed it into your arc reactor," You say in distaste, it was the first Tony heard you talk like that, even your facial expression was showing disgust.

"Are you allowed to have an opinion?"

"Hey, I'm death, I can be as caring or terrifying as I want to be. I know everyone's life history. Trust me, having an opinion makes this transition easy."

"So, I'm done now?"

You laughed, a little more than Tony would have liked, "I think you know the answer to that."

Tony sighed, "I don't like this, coming back to life really takes it out on the human body."

"I figured as much, maybe make a better decision?"

"You're hilarious," Tony replied dryly.

You grinned, tilting your head to the side, "Tony, from the greatness of my unexisting heart - your time will come and you will know when. I will always be there to greet you like an old friend."

"I guess that's comforting."

"I guess it is comforting to know that my parents and uncle Ben got to the afterlife safely," Peter hums before looking back down at his homework, "Thanks, Tony!"

"No worries, kid."

Tony did miss you, even though each interaction was a few minutes long. There was something about you that was so welcoming to him, but then he thinks to himself - you are death, after all. You are supposed to be caring for those who deserve it.

Perhaps, it was his reason to keep going on in life, you have shown him nothing but kindness and care, deep down he knows that he's a good person to receive such treatment. He tries not to think about death, but he can't help but find comfort.

Knowing you're on the other side with a smile on your face.

He had no fear of dying anymore, the fear of the unknown after this life was non-existent. He was sucked back into reality when Peter threw a paper aeroplane at his head. He looked at the teenager and smiled, Tony relaxed his shoulders - life was looking up now.

"Hello, old friend."

Tony, for the first time, did not gasp awake. He felt peaceful and he could lie in his spot all day. He slowly opens his eyes and is met with the sight of a clear blue sky. He slowly sat up and saw he was in a field of flowers, a fresh scent of grass and off to the distance, he could see trees.

"So, this is it?"

"I don't think you'll like the answer."

Tony hummed, looking over at you. Your scythe standing next to you as you were crouched down next to him with your cloak draped over you, the hood resting nicely on your head.

"You're awfully quiet, Tony," You pointed out, poking his cheek, "You know most people beg to go back once they know they're dead."

"I've prepared myself."

"No doubt about that," You mumbled, before clearing your throat, "Welcome to the afterlife!"

"It's not much."

"I can't seem to please you can I?" You teased, before sighing as Tony seemed fixated on something else, "Tony, this is your afterlife, you're little paradise. I am not supposed to tell you things that happen here because it's yours, and in a few years your family will return to you."

"Like Pepper?" Tony questioned, hopefulness in his voice, "Happy? Rhodey?"

"And Peter and Morgan," You finished, tilting your head to the side as your gentle stare bore into Tony's eyes, "It'll be a few years for them, but, for you? It'll be like yesterday you just died."

"Will they be okay? You know, without me?"

You softly smile at him, "They will struggle with their grief, but they'll be okay."

"You know, (y/n), thank you. You've made coming to terms with this so easy."

"It's not common I find someone returning to me before their time, multiple times if I must add. But, I treasure friends and they will receive the best from what death can offer.

You stand up, giving a hand out to him.

"Now, Tony, will you finally take my hand?

#tony stark imagine #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark #x male reader #platonic #avengers x male reader #avenger imagines #personal favourite

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sanjoongie · 2 years

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Privilege

ღPairing: San x Me, I (1st POV)

ღGenre: Fashion Designer! San × Model! Me

ღWord Count: 2,073

ღWarnings: light touching and teasing, pain kink, grinding, up against the wall sex, rough sex, spanking, g-spot orgasm, squirting, male and female orgasm

ღRated: 18+ mdni, smut with no plot

ღSummary: I’m a model and I’ve fallen in love with San. San wants to give me the world but I want to work for it. So we find middle ground, somehow in the bedroom

"Why are you leaving the bed?" San whined as his hands trailed along my hip as I got up.

"I have a shoot today, San," I replied while looking for my robe.

Pouty, bare-faced and sleepy, San blinked slowly. "For who?"

I rolled my eyes. "San, please."

San, quick and slick, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back against his chest. His fingers played along the silk of my teddy on my thighs. "Who are you going to be wearing tonight, Babe?"

I couldn't help but smile to myself. San's love burns long, like an ember. "Ducky, I have to make money. I'm finally getting somewhere with my career."

San buried his face in the crook of my neck, voice muffled by my hair. "You should be the face of my brand."

I froze. In all my years, this was the coveted position to acquire. And I had slept my way to it? "San, no."

"Well, it may be too late. I've already done some talking and the lawyers are drawing up your contract already."

"Choi San, are you fucking kidding me right now?!" I turned around, still enclosed in his arms.

"What?" He frowned down at me.

"You don't think people will talk?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Let them talk! You're my muse. I've been sketching and all the designs are for you anyways. You're always on my mind." San bent his neck to kiss me.

I leaned back, out of the way of his lips. "You do not get to kiss me right now! What if I don't want to be the face of your brand?"

"You don't want to be my muse?" The utter sensitivity, the tangible worry coating his voice, pulled at my heartstrings.

"I don't want people to think that the only reason I became the face of your brand is because I let you fuck me."

San crooked an eyebrow at me. "You let me fuck you?"

"Be serious!"

"I am. You inspire me. I don't care if it's love or if it's you. This entire line will be for you. Now. Who are you wearing tomorrow?"

I pecked San chastely on the lips. "Wouldn't you love to know."

San roared and buried his face in my stomach. I squealed with laughter. "Okay okay, it's Hongjoong."

San stopped tickling me and peered up at me through his eyelashes balefully. "Are you serious?"

"I am. Hongjoong has some serious sway as a designer and as an activist. If he wants me modeling his clothes for a marketing campaign, I want to do it. It's an opportunity of a lifetime. I couldn't say no to that!"

San sighed heavily, chin still on my stomach. "Fine. That makes sense. But you should know, I'm really jealous."

"Gee, you think?" I said, mocking him.

"And that means," San did not break eye contact as he put his arms under my thighs and brought his mouth close to my core. "I should send you off with something to remind you of me."

I gazed down the length of my body, well aware of which parts of mine were bruised and which parts had been bitten. "I think you've left plenty of reminders all over my body from last night."

San protested, "But that was last night!"

I disentangled myself from San and scooched to the side of the bed once more. This time I was able to slide my feet into my slippers and dance out of San’s reach before he could ensnare me once more. He smiled in happiness, just enjoying the game of it all. Silly man.

People had already been talking about our sightings in clubs, in art museums, in Milan. We were seen everywhere and always together. Neither of us had been on social media for a month and it was driving everyone mad with curiosity. Currently we were held up in San's modern and luxurious condo in the city we lived in. We didn't want to talk to the world about all the reasons they thought we shouldn't date. We just wanted to be together.

But, bills must be paid and when Hongjoong sent emails, it was important for me to at least respond to them. I couldn't afford to burn that bridge but I also knew how jealous San would get. He wouldn't stop me; San trusted me. But there would be payment extracted for this.

Hongjoong’s shoot was long but amazing. The clothes he dressed me in fit like a dream. The cause was good and Hongjoong knew how to make me look gorgeous. It was an amazing experience but after ten hours, I was ready for a long soak and an even longer sleep.

That was not in my cards.

One step into the loft and San had me pinned against the back of the door. "San, really?"

San tucked his face into the crook of my neck. "I've missed you all day."

I patted his soft hair reassuringly. "I know, Ducky, but can't I take my shoes off at least?"

"No, that's my privilege." Without another word he was kneeling down and helping me step out of my heels. His hands travel down my calves and gently cup the heel of my foot.

"And my jacket?" I laughed.

"Also my privilege." San took a step behind me, running his fingers under the lapel of the blazer and finally pulled my jacket off my shoulders and down my arms.

This had become a game to him, again. I was honestly fine with San seducing me into bed. At least I knew I'd sleep after the glorious climax.

I sighed, turning around and leaned up against his chest. "What in the world did I ever do to deserve you, Choi San?"

San raised his hands to cup my face in them. “You're my muse, you simply had to exist. Now, let me refresh my memory. There’s a sketch I’m stuck on because I couldn’t recall how tiny your waist was.”

“If your plan was to ply me with compliments until I let you have your way with me,” I mused, “It’s working.”

San picked me up and I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist. "Will you let me love you then? I've been waiting all day."

I kissed him on the nose. "It would be my privilege."

He kissed me with my arms around behind his neck. They were lingering and savory and I could tell he wanted me to feel every second of it. His eyes remained studying me, like he had to commit back to memory what my face was like. He leaned in to kiss my jaw, down my neck, knowing full well if he went to my erogenous places, he could fast-start my libido. "Are you going to let me take my time?" He growled into my skin.

"Ducky, I'm so freaking tired--"

San's eyebrows furrowed, "I need you so badly. It's like if I don't sink myself into you, I'm going to go crazy." To prove a point, he grinded his lower half into mine and made my eyes roll into the back of my head. He was so fucking hard. "I need to reconnect with you."

I started to pepper his face with kisses. Underneath that intense gaze and sharp jawline, was a boy who just wanted to feel loved. It never went away and I never stopped enjoying feeding that beast. I kissed him fiercely, because I wanted him to know he was loved. I cupped his face with both of my hands, using my legs to leverage myself so that I could grind back down on him.

His arms snaked up the back of my thighs to cup my ass, pushing the skirt of my dress further up my legs. I broke our kiss to admire the way his arms bulged while holding my entire weight. "Bed," I ordered.

San shook his head, smiling in happiness, "It's not close enough."

Before I could protest, he had me up against the bare brick wall of his loft, the edges digging into my skin enough to cause me to gasp. San smirked, knowing full well he was pulling out all my kinks. His body moved with the finesse of a man who had fucked me so good in the past. The two of us watched as we ground ourselves into each other. The corduroy of his pants applied some nice extra pleasure but I was very quickly ruining my silk panties. My fingers were grasping for the button of his pants, struggling to pop it. San didn't break eye contact as he held me up with one arm and reached between us to get the button, the zipper and pulled them down. I raised an eyebrow. "Commando, sir?"

San sent me a very knowing look. "The material feels good."

There was no time lost after that. San pushed his way inside of me, which usually with his girth would be an issue but I was wet, I enjoyed the stretch and I needed him as much as he needed me. My lips descended on his again, this time there was no finesse, we simply needed to be connected in as many ways as we could. My fingers were buried in his hair and his fingers were digging into my ass cheeks.

"I missed you today," I said with a throaty whine.

"I miss you as soon as you close that damn door," San gasped as he didn't miss a single thrust.

My fingers tightened their grasp, having slight control of San's head. "Smack it."

I had a second to brace before his hand slapped my ass with an echoing noise. I groaned as he smoothed his hand over the red mark. The pain and pleasure was everything for me. "Other side," I commanded.

He did so, breath catching in his throat as I clamped down harder on him. "I'm going for that spot," He announced.

"Wait, San--"

"Come on," San cooed at me, "It's hot as fuck."

"It's embarrassing!" I whined, burying my face into the crook of his neck, but nodded that it was okay.

His hands held me in place, both moving down to hold onto my thighs so he could get his preferred angle. I could feel the tip of him moving against the spot inside of me. I couldn't help but cry out. The pace he took had me whimpering the entire time. His hips were thrusting against me so that his dick could brush that spot over and over and over. I could feel my climax building, the one that says I'm about to make a mess, but San wouldn't let me dwell on that. He left small kisses on my neck and then I was coming all over him. I could feel myself squirting against him, my walls milking him for all he's worth and it's not long before San is tossing his head back and shouting hoarsely. He rides both our highs slowly before the brick is digging into my skin a little too much.

"Sannie, we gotta move to the shower now. You're covered in my…" Embarrassment did not allow me to finish my sentence.

San shook his head, smiling even though he's clearly tired. "Just give me a moment. I can be ready again soon."

"Soon?" I shout in confusion.

San refused to remove himself from inside of me even though he had grown soft. He kitten-licked the side of my neck and caused me to squeal because I wasn't expecting it. "I waited too long for this. One time is not going to be enough for me."

"Sir," I said, trying to pull away. San's hands were locked behind the small of my back. "Nope, not happening," he said, smiling back at me.

"You're the only person I need," I sighed, sending a smile back.

"Maybe even the only fashion designer you need in your life," San insisted.

I burst into laughter and rolled my eyes, "Still not the same thing, San."

"But!" San couldn't help the pout that pulled at his lips. "Even though I made you the face of my company? My next entire fall/winter line will be for you. I will do it all for you."

"Maybe I'll think about it," I teased.

Spoiler alert, I didn't have time to think about it. There were two more rounds and an eat-in of wraps before round four.

#kvanity #ksmutclub #ateezlovenet #ateez smut #choi san smut #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #ღatz #topaz's work #sir i love you #happy birthday my love

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im-sorry-what-ii · 9 months

Text

MY THOUGHTS ON HOW THE ORIGINAL SONG TAKE ON ME BY A-HA AND THE MTV UNPLUGGED VERSION PARALLEL TOP GUN AND TOP GUN MAVERICK (blame @blazingstar29 for enabling me)

more under the cut bc its a bit long🫠

ok we all know take on me right? the upbeat 1985 song with the really cool music video. iconic. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djV11Xbc914&ab_channel=a-ha)

right so five years ago a-ha did an mtv unplugged version which i advise you to listen to bc its so inCREDIBLY GOOD I CANNOT. it takes every thing that makes the og song perfect and twists it into something that captures the essence of the original but mature and sad, like looking back at the past. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xKM3mGt2pE&ab_channel=ahaVEVO)

my reasons for why the og 1985 version parallels top gun

80s. basic but true.

good looking guys. also basic. also true. promise it gets more in depth

the whole vibe of the take on me video is upbeat. happy. theyre dancing around, its half animated but with pencil drawings like a teen would doodle on school books, its carefree, its goofy, its all over the place.

the music is also upbeat and happy, it makes you wanna dance and get up and vibe

combining video, music and lyrics, the song is about being young. its about being alive, having your whole life ahead of you. taking on the world, being young and in your prime and prepared to give it your all. its happy, its looking forward to the future but enjoying and loving the now. its having options, choice and freedom, to live your life how you want to.

this is what top gun is at heart. its about being young and in your prime, competing, living life to the fullest. its energy, motivation, but in the end its also growing up. its seeing the worst life can do to you (goose) and recognising it but moving on, finding comfort in your youth and letting go of your responsibilites.

its the beauty of life, of strength and just the general vibe of the 80s. friendship and love and loss and the beauty of being young. its saying ‘i have my whole life left to live, and nothing can stop me’

to understand the next part, i kinda like to thing of the ‘85 version as the soundtrack of top gun. its the 86ers song, its their vibe.

and this ones probably got more to it, my reasons why the unplugged version parallels top gun maverick

modern times. basic again

we gotta focus on the actual musicians now. its the same guys singing, just 40 years older. the same song, just looking back instead of forward. by changing the key and tempo of the song, theyve created a whole new vibe. same lyrics, same guitar, just slower. sadder. they've calmed down, lost some of their energy

the unplugged versions looks back on a life well lived instead of forwards, to a life ahead. its reflecting on all the bad things that have happened and accepting them

in the end, theyre both about acceptance. this is very important. both versions of the song are about accepting everything that life has to offer, everywhere that life can or has taken you. ‘slowly learning that life is ok’

except, where ‘85 version is eagerly accepting and awaiting, unplugged is sadder. not regretful, just sadder. more thoughtful. theyre older, wiser, they recognise how life has changed them, for better or worse. they dont regret their life (its no better to be safe than sorry), they just see what it as it is. lived. over. theyre out of their prime, its a new generation now.

but at the same time, its also rebellion. theyre old, not dead, they still have fight left in them (take on me, take me on). theyre still standing, a few decades hasnt changed that.

now tell me, am i describing Take On Me (MTV Unplugged) or Top Gun: Maverick?

mav regrets pulling gooses papers, but theres nothing he can do about it now. he has to accept life for what it is. he has to accept ice is dying, that hes dead. he has to accept hes old. and rooster has to accept life for what it is too. he needs to realise the past is in the past, the carole and goose are gone and mav is all he has left. Mav pulled his papers. There's nothing he can do about it now

top gun maverick is about growing up, getting old, how life changes a person. its seeing how everyone around you is older, no longer in their prime. the younger generation has centre stage now, but youre still there. your still fighting. youve made mistakes, youve fucked up but your still here bc thats how life works. You're quieter, the background to their lead, but you're still there

think of it as a cycle. in every movie theres an older generation, and a younger generation. the top gun movies focus on one of those generations, following them from young to old, and the song changes with them.

the 86ers song is take on me, and it follows them, adapting with them.

now we’re getting a bit more far fetched, but lets say the ‘22 teams song is i aint worried. its got a similar vibe to take on me, but with a 2020s twist instead of 80s synth pop. its carefree, they literally aint worried. its happy, its upbeat, it makes you wanna dance.

now we look at these songs in contrast. take on me unplugged and i aint worried are playing side by side, the older and younger generations. once upon a time, take on me had the same vibe but its grown up. and one day, i aint worried will have the same fate

one day, i aint worried will be an old timey song, the same nostalgic vibe as the og take on me has now, the same vibe as top gun has now. bc top gun is retro, its 80s. rn, tgm is new, its fancy, but it wont always be

its a cycle. its a fucking cycle. the same thing was going on in top gun 86, but with viper/jester and ice/mav/everyone else. we just dont see it, bc we're only focusing on one generation. they all parallel each other. if we we're focusing on the ‘22 team, mav and cyclone would be their viper and jester. old, important but not really. old-fashioned, out of date. but we’re not. its the 86ers story, so their song changes with them, and its what we get to see.

thank you for coming to my ted talk!! i may have gotten a bit off track towards the end there and had an existential crisis but enjoy :)

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theycallme-thejackal · 2 years

Note

more of the gordon dickhead prompt pls 🧎🏻‍♀️

Pairing: Lenny Bruce and Midge Maisel Rated T Warnings: Sexual Assault

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part 5

He sits in her dressing room while she does her makeup, but out of respect, he steps outside when it's time for her to get dressed.

It's not as though he hasn't seen her naked before, but something feels...wrong about sitting casually on the couch while she strips down to her show corset while she's still feeling so fragile. She does ask him to help unzip her dress, though, which he does with shaky hands before stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

He stands there, holding his umbrella. The smile on her face at the sight of it had been worth the multiple confused glances from passers-by on this ridiculously sunny summer day.

And then Gordon spots him.

"Lenny Bruce!" He exclaims, eyes bright and excited. "Well, this is a nice surprise. Come to visit Mrs. Maisel?"

Lenny nods, not matching Gordon's excitement but staying quiet. If not for Midge's explicit wishes, he would already be beating the shit out of him. "Moral support," he drawls.

"She's been great. I actually need to talk to her, so..." He points to the door and moves to step around Lenny, but the comic lifts his umbrella, pointing it at the late night host and stopping him in his tracks.

"She's getting changed. I can pass along the message when she's done," Lenny growls.

Gordon laughs, seemingly undeterred, and he leans in conspiratorially. "Between you and me, it's nothing I haven't seen before." And then he has the nerve to fucking wink.

Lenny pokes him with the hard tip of the umbrella, pushing him back with a little more force than necessary as his blood starts to boil. "I will tell her you stopped by," he says harshly.

Gordon's face contorts in confusion, and then he laughs. Lenny arches a brow at him, practically begging Gordon to give him a reason to sock him. "You jealous, Bruce?" He asks, hands in his pockets as he confidently appraises Lenny. "It's been - what? Three years? Must be off your game. I mean, I managed to get in there in less than six months."

Lenny's hands clench tightly, and he barely resists the urge to clock this guy. "The only reason," Lenny growls, "that I am not beating you to a bloody fucking pulp right now is that Midge asked me not to. And unlike you" - he pokes Gordon hard with the umbrella again - "when a woman says no, I actually listen."

Ford rubs at the spot Lenny poked, hissing softly at the pain. "Fine. I'll come back later," he concedes angrily, turning on his heel and striding away.

He leans against the wall, his head lolling back with a quiet thud as he tries to swallow down the residual anger. What if he hadn't been here? Would Gordon have just barged into the room and hurt her again? He takes a deep breath, exhaling through pursed lips.

"Is he gone?"

Fuck.

"Yeah, he's gone," he murmurs through the door before it opens and she invites him inside. He steps through, and she closes the door, locking it (god, he's never been so grateful for a lock before). "How much did you hear?" Lenny asks, rubbing his jaw.

"All of it?" She says. "I think. I mean as nice as this place is, the walls are still pretty thin."

"I'm sorry, Midge," he mutters. "You shouldn't've had to hear that."

"You could've told him," she breathes, receiving a questioning look in response. "About that night. The blue - "

"No," he interrupts. "That...that memory is...precious to me," he explains quietly. "He doesn't deserve to know about it."

Midge looks at him for a long moment before nodding slowly, the slightest hint of a smile curving one side of her mouth. "Thank you for coming tonight...turns out I really did need an umbrella."

He lifts the thing, looking at the tip of it in mock inspection. "Surprised I didn't draw blood," he jokes, looking at her again with a smirk.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #writing prompt #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #answers #angst #comfort #sad

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gar-trek · 1 year

Note

you been doing ok lately gar? you haven’t been posting very much and we miss you

aww this is very nice, thanks for asking about me! I'm 100% fine! the truth is I finished DS9 back in October and I just haven't been as passionate about Star Trek since. I have been running this account for (one month shy of) two years now and during that time I slowly worked my way through TOS, TNG and DS9. Never once during that whole time did I feel even slightly sick of Star Trek, and I never ever ran out of things to say about it. During the last two years, I casually partook in some other medias, but they never occupied as much of my brain space as Star Trek did. I was kind of just always thinking about some aspect of the show, and therefore having tons and tons of post ideas and drawing ideas.

Somehow, over a very short period, I stopped thinking about it every day like I used to. It's not that I don't like it anymore or whatever, its just not in my brain anymore. this is gonna come out of far far far left field and SOME may even feel distressed or disgusted to hear this, but for the last month the thing I've thought about every second of every day has been Disney's Zombies. Yep. I finished DS9 on October 14th and then watched zombies 2 with my friends on October 30th and just got like super super obsessed. maybe it was like an obsession rebound ??? maybe just a sad pitstop in my overall star trek journey before i can fully sink my teeth into ent??

right now i AM watching ent and there is seriously nothing wrong with it. in fact id go as far to say a lot of aspects of the show are more well done than other star trek series. but the thing is I just watch an episode, enjoy myself, and then don't really think about it again. perhaps i just need a cold turkey break for a while from anything star trek related before i can get back into it

I don't want anyone to worry, this isn't going to turn into a Diseny Zombies blog or any other weird thing (i have my side account for that @gars-side-trek if you for some reason wanna follow). Even if i start posting a lot less or even altogether, this will always be a star trek blog! I understand why you all follow me and I'm not gonna change it up on everyone like that. This isn't like a dramatic announcement about me leaving or whatever, and probably a good portion of you don't care what I do/didn't even notice I've been more quite. But i did just look back and realize I posted half as much in November as i did in October, so if anyone else was curious about where I've been there is your answer!

#now no one freak out #and everyone go watch the zombies trilogy because there is no fandom for that and i feel so desperately alone

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original-orbus · 5 months

Text

I put this on A03 as well, but i'm posting it here too because reasons

Honestly, I typed all of this up at like 3 am after working a 8 hour shift and melting my brain with various doom scrolls. Despite all this stuff working against me, this is somehow the best piece of work I have created in recent Years. Its bad, but its mine. There will be problems and contradictions. Idk, I'm rambling, i don’t know what this is supposed to be.

Being a child of Hades comes with a variety of Ups and Downs. Sure you wield incredible power and respect(?), But you have to deal with the fear in peoples eyes, regardless of how much you’ve helped them. Sure Poseidon and Zeus Kids are feared as well, but there's just something about Hades kids that people just can’t get over.

Kenneth had spent almost half of their life living underneath the fearful eyes of their fellow demigods, and yet it was still something that weighed down upon them constantly. Perhaps that's why Kenneth found themselves wandering the streets of Chicago all alone on a snow filled night. Despite everything these streets did to them in their youth, somehow it was one of the few places Kenneth felt comfortable enough to let the mask fall ever so slightly and truly process everything. It was far enough away from camp that no one would see them, and everyone they once cared about in Chicago and long moved on or forgotten about him.

It was while Kenneth was lost in thought, that they would eventually find themselves across the street from their old family home, a place that despite providing just as many if not more bad memories than at camp, still brought them back to the good old days when nothing mattered more than getting first in the relay race at school. However Kenneth was always unable to take that next step, unable to deal with the emotions that would try to wrench themselves free if they were able to see their mother’s face again. A mother who would have given the world to protect her little baby, but was unable to do anything in the end.

At the end of the day, It was like a snowball going down hill, once it had picked up enough speed and mass, there was nothing that could have stopped the crash landing at the end.

Kenneth would let out a long breath as they took a final glance at their old home and felt the shadows shudder beneath their feet, before breaking their sight (?) away and continuing through the streets. Following a long familiar path to them, walking along the path towards their old elementary school, Bits and pieces of memory popping up in the back of their mind as they took in the once familiar, but now changed scenery.

They had just barely left this school when they had run away from home, believing it to be the only avenue available to them after everything came to a head. Thinking back on everything now, after everything they've seen in recent years, the problems from their youth seems so small and insignificant now. Back then it was Grade school crushes and Multiplication, Now they had to deal with Monsters and Gods. Alongside that, being expected to support everyone else without being given any support in kind.

Kenneth would settle themself down onto an old swing set and letting their feet drape across the ground as they gripped the cold metal chains, Frost sprouting from their fingertips in kind. Letting a weight fall down off their shoulders, Kenneth would lean back on the swing and look up into the sky, snowflakes drifting by and slowly piling onto the ground beneath.

There was just something about a snowy night that gets one in the mood for feeling sorry for themselves. Kenneth would let their eyes close in response to the snowflakes as the shadows started to once again rumble beneath them, creating waves that ripple throughout the webs of shadows upon the ground.

Kenneth didn’t know how long they sat there, just relaxing and letting off a bit of steam, before their phone vibrated against against their thigh, drawing them out of their stupor for a scant few moments. Forcing themself to sit up, a single person came to mind about who would be texting them in the middle of the night, Josephine, A daughter of Poseidon, and perhaps the only other person at Camp who might be able to relate to Kenneth.

Josephine: Hey Ken Ken, I stopped by your cabin on the way to the lake, but found you weren’t home. I’m going to assume you went out and lost track of time. If or when you get back tonight, let me know. We need to talk.

Kenneth would stare at the screen for just a few moments before pushing off of the swings and promptly falling forwards, Sinking into the darkness pooling beneath their feet, and once again feeling the ever familiar comfort of the shadows wrapping around their body and rapidly transporting themself to another location.

Alright, i think thats a good place to call it. Maybe i’ll make more of this, but this is kind of a Precursor/Prologue to the Story of this Hades child. Maybe i’ll write the next part, or skip forwards in time. I guess we will find out

#writers #percy jackon and the olympians #oc #Argo Academy #Camp Argo

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nik-the-bik · 2 years

Text

A Game We Used to Play - The Owl House Fanfic

Summary: Young Philip Wittebane and his brother on a Witch Hunt.

A very short idea inspired by the thought,"Hey, wouldn't this have some fucked up implications for the present day story if this was a thing?"

***

“Shhh, do you hear that?” Caleb whispered, holding his arm out to stop his little brother.

“Hear what?” breathed Philip, frozen in place.

“It’s the Head Witch’s siren song.”

“Head Witch?” Philip gasped, eyes widening. He gripped the large stick that his brother had tossed him tight against his chest.

“Ay,” answered Caleb, solemnly. He creeped forward slowly, and with a flourish cupped his hand to his ear. “A Head Witch in charge of a foul coven of witches.”

“A whole coven?” Philip asked, excitement coursing through him. Caleb turned back towards him, Philip saw his favorite glint in his brother’s eye – he knew his brother had something excellent planned. “Will we find a whole coven, Caleb?”

“A few members, at least,” he replied, crouching to the ground and drawing a diagram in the dirt with his own stick. “But if we take the Head Witch, we weaken them all.”

“I’m ready to destroy the entire coven of witches!” cried Philip, brandishing his stick like a sword and slashing through the air.

Caleb smiled warmly at his little brother. “Slow yourself, Philip. You are still training, after all.”

“I do not need to train.”

“Do not let pride get in the way. When fighting dangerous witches, you must be cunning. They are the sworn enemy of mankind for a reason – they will trick you and tempt you in order to destroy you,” Caleb warned, pacing the small clearing in the woods the two boys occupied. Being a few years older, Caleb reveled in playing the sage mentor. “Now – resist the siren song of the Head Witch. They are trying to lure you into behaving foolishly with their musical spell.”

“I hear no such thing!”

“You need to be more diligent, Philip,” said Caleb, eyebrows raised knowingly. “Their song is purposefully soft – softer than the whispers between raindrops – you must listen carefully, lest you fall victim to their treachery.” Caleb’s fingers playfully danced through the air, and Phillip stared at him, breathing in every word. “If you cannot hear their song, you cannot resist their magic.”

Philip paused, trying to hold his hand to his ear like his brother did before him. “I think I hear something,” he fibbed.

“Excellent. Now follow me,” Caleb called, running deeper into the woods. Philip laughed as he pursued his brother, who dashed between the trees and ducked behind them to hide before running the opposite way, luring Philip to chase him further and further. The game was on, and witches or no, Philip was going to conquer alongside his brother. Even if all they conquered was a few feet of forest.

Caleb came to a full stop a few feet ahead before turning and gesturing to his brother to divert course. The two boys took cover behind some large bushes.

“Is it the Head Witch?” Philip whispered. Caleb simply nodded and put a finger to his lips. While his brother tried to peer above the tops of the bushes, Philip tried to position himself to look through them. “Where are they, Caleb?”

“A few dozen yards up ahead,” whispered Caleb, turning his gaze back down to his brother, brow furrowed. “Now listen carefully to my orders, Philip, so that we can take them by surprise and – “

“I already have an idea!” interrupted Philip, whose eyes had caught a large tree a little ahead of them that he knew he could easily climb.

“Shhh, wait! There’s too much you still do not—”

“But I can just – “

“You will not interrupt your commanding officer.”

Philip became visibly frustrated. “Commanding officer?”

Caleb tilted his chin defiantly. “Yes, as the Witch Hunter General in charge of this assault—"

“Why am I never the Witch Hunter General?” Philip whined.

“Because I am the eldest, and therefore in charge of you,” Caleb replied, now dropping the stealth act entirely.

“I want to be in charge. I want to be the ruthless General like you.”

“But Philip! You too are an essential figure in this battle – you are my right-hand man, my ever-faithful Golden Guard!”

“I don’t want to be the Golden Guard.”

Caleb gasped, hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t? Maybe I should command you to complete a dangerous quest, to force you to prove your fealty to your brother!” he cried, pointing his mock-weapon into the face of the younger boy.

The child didn’t even flinch. “I think I should get to be the Witch Hunter General this time, while you stand as my Golden Guard.”

Caleb laughed. “Perhaps someday.” His grin became mischievous as he got on one knee in front of Philip. “Perhaps when you are eldest,” he teased, poking the tip of his little brother’s nose.

Philip pouted. “Impossible. I don’t think that’s funny.”

“Perhaps when you’re a man, then,” answered Caleb, softer now, as he tucked some loose hair out of Philip’s eyes. Philip’s pout lessened. “But first we must continue our training.” He rose, holding his stick aloft. “We must show these witches we will not succumb to their evil! Shall we join the hunt?”

“Rah!” cried Philip, grinning again, chasing after his brother who once more darted through the woods. He ran as fast as his little legs would carry him, but his brother ran faster. He was desperate to catch up. He ran with all his might as his chest began to ache, the steady rhythm of his panting abruptly ending as he tripped over a vine, collapsing face-first into the dirt.

“Philip?”

Caleb was by his side in a flash, propping him up off the ground and inspecting his chin, his hands, his knees. “Are you hurt, Philip?”

Philip could only sniffle and nod.

“Come on, it’s time we go in,” Caleb said, hoisting his little brother into his arms and marching back towards home.

“But the Head Witch!” moaned Philip.

Caleb shushed his little brother, running a hand through the hairs on the nape of his neck. “We’ll do battle with the witches next time, my Fearsome Little Hunter."

#the owl house #toh #the owl house fanfiction #philip wittebane #caleb wittebane #yes the mention of a Siren Song and ''Whispers between Raindrops'' was me trying to sneak in a Raine Whispers joke #i love the visual that comes with their name sooooo much #nikki tries to be a writer #sfw #anyway wouldn't it be fucked if belos was just living out a fantasy that he and his brother would have invented but roles swapped #it raises more connections to the collector and his obsession with games and also calls back luz's initial problem with her fantasies and #anyway idk if this will ever be canon but it will be to me

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rocketandonuts · 10 months

Text

ah fuck it, personal vent post for real, probably. Ugh :

its all silly which is majorly why i hate how much im weeping over this

im currently in a depressed session bc a few days ago i broke my fucking screen tablet. lol

i dont even know what to say. i used to only draw on normal pen tablet and i was absolutely fine with it. and years ago i got the screen tablet (Wacom one) which, uhh there were reasons at the time i dont wanna get into lol but the result being i didnt mesh too well with it as first. i only used it when i needed to. otherwise it was just collecting dust

well there was also that huge art block that i ended up just become suck at drawing in general (in my own opinion). anyway

its til last year i picked it up again. cuz even tho i dislike screen tablet for many reasons, it makes drawing lineart a hell lot faster. I ended up using it majorly for my comic and as my artskill slowly grow i started to really see the good sides of the medium

but the thing is since i was really treating it rough. (And also bc Wacom one realy just sucks in quality in terms of screen tablet. It might be the cheapest but Don't get wacom one) it was already kinda dusty and half-broken and scratchy. I was aware it might stop working anytime.

I was aware but i wasnt prepared

and it didnt even just stop working on it's own. It's broken bc i dropped it. lol like a dumbass

During that night when i was like "OOO imona do a gamejam :)" I didnt place it steadily on my desk and when I stood up it fell to the floor

god i feel sick to stomach remembering that

then i tried to distract myself for a day or two i think.

i still have my pen tablet so i tried to use to it... works but it doesnt feel right. expesically when doing character expressions and certain type of lines

i ended up ordered myself a new screen tablet THANK GOODNESS HUION TW HAPPENS TO BE ON HUGE SALE THANK GOD

thing is it arrived tonight and before it did (i wasnt sure when it would arrive) i was so anxious the entire time cuz i even tho it wasnt a huge lot lot of money cuz it was on sale its still quite smth and i was really scared i will not mesh well with it cuz ive never used huion b4...

it was pretty damn alright. and the cable design makes so much more sense. im never going back to wacom again after this lol

but still during these few days i kept thinkning about what a dumbass i am and how i didnt use the full of the tablet and just broke it like that. how im already behind on my intended schedule. and that im literally depressed when i cant draw as i wanted. i feel like dead all days. and the fact i feel dependant on higher end products now when i used to be able to do everything with my tiny pen tablet etc etc. and lol even tho its mostly fine now, the anger the stupid sorrow still are lingering. why am i like this

#hope this end my stupid turmoil #and tbh im still getting to know my new huion kamvas #its good but it was not... not the same #but im sure ill get used to it over time #and fuck THIS TIME im going to treat it like a princess i stg

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sociallyanxiouscryptid · 2 years

Text

Anger Management Part 2

Part 1

I had an ask requesting for this continuation but I don’t know how to link it to that or let that person know or something so I am just going to post as a normal post and hope they see it!

First off, disclaimer: I am not 100% happy with this and feel like it’s kinda clunky and just not that great, but as I keep saying I am trying to do this for quantity of quality to just play around and practice. Hope its not too much of a disappointment.

I hate having too much in this part and yet always do, but if there is anything inaccurate with the sign language usage please let me know. I don’t know sign language personally yet but I do know about it and have watched and followed a lot of people online. But I am the furthest thing from an expert so education is welcome.

Anyway, here it is. Oh and previously name Mr Ratman is now Mr Badguy because I hated Ratman and thought I had changed it before posting so yay.

Villain woke up in complete warmth and comfort. It would have been easy to sink into it, ignore the day’s plans and just let the weight of the quilt keep him down and drift back to sleep. Except, he couldn’t think of what it was he was ignoring. No plan for the day came to mind. Villain reached for his phone, but the bed stretched on further then it should have. He opened his eyes, found white sheets and a blank wall.

This was not his room.

Villain sat up. He tried sifting through his memories, but his head ached, and frustration twisted in his stomach. Where was he? How was he here? What had happened to-

Supervillain. They stopped him from killing Mr Badguy.

He looked around the plain room, a bed, a dresser, and a small side table. Was he in their hideout?

He was slow to move, limbs heavy and weak. The quilt now felt like it weighed a tonne, but once it was off, he shuffled to the edge of the bed. In the first few moments frustration began morphing into anger. What game was Supervillain playing and why did they decide to play it with him? Why did they stop him? He had worked so hard, spent so long. He finally reached the end of a year long journey only for it to be ripped away from him like everything else.

However, as he moved something else crept in. The room around him was painfully silent, the door too. He expected someone to be alerted when he started moving, someone to be watching him but as he looked around, he found no cameras, nothing to suggest he was being monitored.

Suspicion, anxiety… fear sizzled against his anger, before slowly consuming it as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He was in Supervillain’s hideout, and he was still alive.

Why had Supervillain stopped him? Why did they take him with them? What did they want?

The questions swirled inside him, mixing with the fear and tangling. Oh he fucked up.

A new plan and a new drive fuelled Villain and he stood, bare feet pressing unsteadily onto the wooden floor. He waited, staring at the door. The seconds ticked by, and it remained closed, the world on the other side quiet.

Villain looked around for his shoes, frowned at a glass of water sitting on top of the dresser. His mouth watered at the sight of it, tongue sticking to the roof of his dry mouth. He ignored it, moved to the door. The silence made his ears ring, straining to hear any inkling of sound. But there was nothing, nothing but the sound of his own pounding heart.

“Get over yourself,” he hissed and opened the door.

The hallway was as empty as it sounded, the same wooden floor stretching out into a windowless path. There was no ambush, no menacing figure waiting for him. Instead, Villain felt like he walked out into a gallery.

A bad gallery in fact. Bad was harsh, but Villain had a hard time imagining someone like Supervillain would want any of this. There were photos of varying things, painted canvases, sketched drawings and even some digital art, a lot of it was impressive. But amongst all of that, for some reason, were kids’ drawings. Framed pieces of paper with barely recognisable scribble on them. A few were pictures of actual things clearly done by an older hand, but why did Supervillain have any of this? Was Villain somewhere else?

Villain stood there, staring, unsure of what to make it all when out of nowhere the smell of pancakes hit him. Fresh and hot, mixed with the scent of maple syrup and butter. Villains body felt uncomfortable as an intense hunger piled up with his dry mouth.

He took a step back. Weaponless, defenceless, he should be avoiding people, hiding. Searching for a way out of this unknown place. It had been proven to him that he couldn’t fight Supervillain. The ease to which they had moved compared to his clumsy body, he was simply no match, and anyone working for them would be too.

He needs to get out, and fast.

Villain turned and ran straight into a person. They barely flinched against the impact and Villain recoiled, heart in his mouth.

“Woah there kid,” Supervillain reached out with their spare hand and steadied him. “Didn’t think I’d scare you that bad,” they said.

Villain stepped back, mind scrambling for a plan, an escape, anything. What good would a plan do? He was a brand-new Villain, fresh out of the box and he thought he could somehow out smart Supervillain? This was it, this was the end.

“Hey,” their voice was gentle. Supervillain placed a hand on Villain’s shoulder, and he averted his gave. The hand moved and plucked his chin, raising it till he looked at them.

“I am not going to hurt you.”

It gave no assurance to Villain. This was Supervillain, the infamous Supervillain who had crippled and destroyed many organisations, had killed hundreds of people if not more. Their people were a force to be reckoned with, a force to fear.

Villain averted his gaze. He frowned. He had looked down towards the ground, in the direction of Supervillain’s other hand resting at their side. And in it, he found a spatula.

“Why do you have a spatula?” He asked before really think about it.

He looked up and Supervillain was smiling.

“I’m cooking pancakes, want some?”

Villain wasn’t given the opportunity to answer as Supervillain moved their hand back to his shoulder, wrapping it around both and guided him in his original direction.

“Everyone else has already started eating but Partner figured you’d wake up around this time so I made sure yours would be warm. The last one is just about done now.”

They walked around a corner and to an open door, Villain’s stomach growling louder as the smell intensified. He couldn’t think of the last time he had, had pancakes, let alone ones that smelt this good.

Villain’s eyes widened as they walked into the room. The room was an open kitchen and dining set up with a kitchen island separating the two. It was a nice kitchen with black marble countertops and an oven that would make any home cook jealous. But none of that was nearly as interesting as what Villain found at the dining table.

A woman was at the table, the same one who had helped Supervillain restrain Villain. And on either side of her, were two kids. One of them a baby, maybe a year old, sitting in a highchair with some mashed up food in a bowl and fairly well smeared across their table. On the woman’s other side was a toddler, maybe three years old, absolutely devouring some pancakes and fruit.

“Good morning Villain,” Partner said, “did you drink the water I gave you? Your mouth is going to be very dry.”

As she asked this she was already getting up from the table and moving into the kitchen. Villain opened his mouth but didn’t get to answer before she poured him a glass.

Supervillain had left his side at some point, now somehow over by the stove.

“You should have a drink,” Partner said, as she approached, “it will make you feel better.”

She pushed the glass into his hands. Villain wasn’t sure what else to do, so he brought the glass to his lips. The water was instant relief and reflex took over as he down the whole glass. Partner was right, he did feel better. Still very confused, but a little clearer. A little more stable.

Supervillain flipped a pancake onto a plate, holding it in one hand as they turned the stove off and pushed the pan to the back. It was such a mundane thing, such a normal everyday thing Villain couldn’t believe they were seeing Supervillain participating in it.

Partner took the glass back, without a word, going back to the kitchen to fill it and pick up the plate of pancakes.

“Have a seat,” she said, placing both items on the table.

Villain didn’t move.

Partner just smiled softly and walked back around to her side, sitting down between the two children again. The toddler looked up at Partner and tugged on her sleeve, grabbing Partner’s attention. When she had it, she held up her hand and made a motion with her right hand that took Villain a second to realise was sign language.

“Finished,” she signed.

“Take it to,” Partner did a sign Villain didn’t recognise and pointed to Supervillain.

The toddler nodded and manoeuvred clumsily out of her chair before toddling over to Supervillain who smiled brightly down at her.

“All finished?” They signed.

“Finished,” she signed and held up her arms.

Supervillain lifted toddler onto their hip and carried her over to the sink. They put the the plug in, helping the toddler put the plate down before leaning forward to allow her to turn on the tap.

“Get your step,” Supervillain signed, placing the toddler down. The toddler moved to the only unlocked cupboard at her height and opened it as Supervillain turned the tap to a warmer temperature.

“What,” Partner said from the table, “you expected them to live in a dungeon with minions running around doing their bidding?”

Honestly, a little, Villain thought. He at least hadn’t expected Supervillain to have partner let alone children.

Partner jerked their head towards the kitchen island. “Better eat your food before it gets cold.”

Villain glanced at Supervillain who was now busy helping the toddler wash her plate. Hesitantly, he walked to the table and sat down.

He drank some more, licked his lips.

“What was that sign?” Villain asked.

Partner looked up at him.

“You know sign?”

“Yeah, I had a friend in high school who was deaf. I’m not so fluent anymore though.”

Partner nodded, “that’s cool. The sign we did was for the word Zaza which is what the kids call Supervillain. It’s our sign for it at least.”

Villain glanced at Supervillain.

“Why am I here,” he asked.

Partner eyed him.

“We have a little bit more planned for Mr Badguy then you did, and if we didn’t bring you somewhere safe you wouldn’t have given up your revenge scheme so easily.”

He hadn’t. The moment he was out of this situation he planned to go right back where he started, if he made it out of here.

“What kind of plan?” Villain asked.

“Well for starters,” Supervillain said walking to the table placing a colouring book beside Partner, “not killing him.”

The toddler walked up behind them, continuing past them as she returned to her seat several crayons clutched in her small hands.

Villain shook his head, trying to regain some semblance of focus.

“He deserves to die,” Villain said not nearly as strongly as it was intended.

“He deserves worse than death,” Supervillain said. “And we have a plan that will not only do that but will enact the kind of change that you vaguely desire in and amongst all that anger and grief.”

Villain’s nails dug into his palm.

“I am not a child, don’t mock me,” he snapped.

“Oh, but you are a child,” Supervillain moved to sit in the chair beside Villain.

The fuming anger twisted with fear as the shadows around Villain turned sharp and dark.

“You are indeed a child, in fact you’ve barely been a legal adult for a year now and you are already trying to call war on people much bigger than you. You are so swallowed up by your grief and your pain that you are blinded.”

“I am not blinded,” he said.

“Look, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Once upon a time even I was the same. But if you don’t want to be just another of the brawlers who fight with no thought and hope for a good result, then you need to learn to control yourself. You need to listen to me, to let me help you.”

Villain frowned.

“You want to help me?” He said, his whole face joining the expression. “Why?”

Supervillain leaned back in their chair. “Because despite how the media portrays me, I am here to help people.”

A laugh bubbled up inside of Villain, but he caught it. That was so far from what he had been raised to know. Supervillain was always a device of chaos and destruction. They didn’t save people, they didn’t help. They wanted to watch the world burn and enjoy it.

That’s why Villain stayed as far away from their organisation as possible. He wanted change, real change, not to just bring everything crumpling to the ground. He wanted to help people.

“I don’t understand,” Villain finally said, not what he intended to say but he had no idea what else to say.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in,” Supervillain said. “The media and the council have done a fantastic job of sullying my name. It’s a problem honestly, but we make it work.”

Supervillain eyed him, watching all the micro-expressions in his face, the confusion, the conflict.

They sighed.

“Anyway, the main point is, we can’t let you kill Mr Badguy, and I would really like it if you hung around here, until we are sure you aren’t going to ruin any plans and get yourself killed.”

Villain finally met their eyes.

“Do I have a choice?”

They smiled. “Nope.”

That turned out long so I hope it wasn’t boring,

#villain #supervillain #not a prompt #fiction #fic #ficlet #writing #short story #writeblr #writing snippet #snippet #writing community #story #Domestic supervillain #sociallyanxiouscryptid

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seehowsupplethespineis · 2 years

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You’re Like Me

(So...this fic is purely self-indulgent. Tailgate and Cyclonus are two of my favorite characters and couple in Transformers, and as such I have decided to project onto them. This is set in a Humanformers version of MTMTE.)

(Summary: Cyclonus doesn’t understand Tailgate’s sudden melancholy, until he understands completely.)

(Warnings: Accidental misgendering, drinking)

Swerve’s bar was crowded when Cyclonus and Tailgate arrived. Idle chatter reverberated around the room as friends joked and gossiped with each other. Louder voices peppered the dull buzz with drunken confidence. Bodies pressed together in the jumble, moving this way and that. Instinctively, Cyclonus moved to turn around and head back out the door; all this noise and closeness made him long for the relative solitude of his and Tailgate’s quarters. He hadn’t managed to get far before he was stopped by a small hand on his arm.

“Where are you going?” Tailgate asked.

“There is no room,” the Tetrahexian stated flatly.

Frowning, Tailgate surveyed the establishment, “There’s two empty bar stools right there.”

Cyclonus followed her gaze and spotted two open seats sandwiched between two other patrons. Far too close for his comfort. He would have said as much, except Tailgate was watching him with those impossibly wide eyes of hers. For some unfathomable reason, he didn’t want to see disappointment staring back at him. So, when Tailgate tugged him along, he went with minimal feet shuffling.

A few moments after they’d taken their seats, a breathless Swerve greeted them.

“Hey,” the barkeep huffed, “Sorry if I look a bit scruffy. Place is hopping tonight. Not that I’m complaining.”

He set his palms on the bar and leaned forward, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Black label,” Cyclonus replied and looked to Tailgate, who seemed a bit at a loss as she considered the choices.

“Uh…what did I have last time?”

Cyclonus turned back to Swerve, “She’ll have the same.”

After glancing to Tailgate for confirmation, Swerve nodded succinctly, “Alright, two Black Labels coming right up!”

The barkeep hurried away and Cyclonus took to staring at the wall as he waited. It wasn’t a window, but it would have to do.

If this moment had taken place at any point a few weeks ago, Cyclonus knew he wouldn’t have noticed the way Tailgate slouched out of the corner of his eye. Even if he had noticed, he wouldn’t have cared. He tried to tell himself he didn’t care now, but still found himself turning to study his roommate. She looked…upset. Cyclonus was surprised by how alarmed he felt at the sight.

“What’s wrong?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Tailgate glanced up at him, “Huh? Oh, I don’t know…Well, actually I do know.”

She grew silent, brows drawn as if in deep thought. Despite his curiosity, Cyclonus decided not to push her.

“It’s just…” she said at last, “I’ve been questioning some things for a while now, even before I went into that coma for all those years.”

Drawing herself up, she met Cyclonus’s gaze, “I don’t think I want to be considered a woman anymore.”

Cyclonus merely continued to stare, sensing Tailgate had more to say.

“Now that I say it out loud, I am definitely not a woman,” Tailgate continued with sudden determination, “I’m a guy.”

Processing the information, Cyclonus nodded slowly, “Will you be changing your pronouns?”

“Yes!” Tailgate enthused, “He/him from now on.”

“Alright.”

A contented smile graced Tailgate’s face. Cyclonus didn’t understand why it made his stomach flutter.

“Sorry if this seems out of the blue,” Tailgate added hastily, “It’s just that you called me ‘she’ and…it bothered me.”

Cyclonus dipped his head, “I’m sorry.”

His companion waved the apology aside, “Aw, don’t be; you couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” Cyclonus insisted, “I know what that’s like.”

Tailgate tilted his head at that, “You do?”

The Tetrahexian nodded, “Yes.”

When Tailgate continued to stare, Cyclonus realized he was supposed to elaborate. As a rule, he wasn’t fond of talking about his personal life (or talking in general), but this was important; he could divulge just this once.

He explained slowly, struggling for the right words, “I was...uncertain once...like you were. I hadn’t quite realized that I was a man. At some point, I just...knew I did not want to be considered a woman.”

Vainly, he sought a more adequate description, but eventually settled for a murmured, “It felt…wrong.”

Cyclonus wasn’t sure if he was making sense; he’d never been very good at expressing himself in words not tied to song. However, when he glanced Tailgate’s way, his companion was nodding emphatically. It made something inside him sing. You understand. You’re like me.

“I think I needed to know what I wasn’t to know what I am,” Tailgate mused, his blue eyes sparkling at his own revelation, “Does…Does that make sense?”

Cyclonus nodded, “Yes, it does.”

He attempted to maintain a neutral expression as a smile positively exploded over Tailgate’s face.

“Guess we have a lot in common, huh?” the smaller man cheekily remarked.

Cyclonus’s gaze bored into the wall as he felt his cheeks grow hot, “I suppose.”

To his profound relief, Swerve returned right then with two glasses in hand.

“Black labels for the lady and gent!” he announced with a grin.

Tailgate winced and Cyclonus felt a pang of sympathy. It had been a long time since anyone had misgendered him, but he remembered how awful it felt.

“Um…” Tailgate began sheepishly, “I’m actually a gent, too, not a lady.”

Swerve blinked, “Oh, really? My bad! I didn’t know.”

“No one does,” Tailgate reassured him, “I only just told Cyclonus while we were sitting here.”

Something lit up in Swerve’s gaze, “Well, in that case, this calls for a celebration!”

Three small glasses seemed to appear in his hand as he rummaged beneath the bar for a few moments. Eventually, he triumphantly brandished a bottle of clear liquid.

“Who's up for shots?” he cried.

Tailgate’s mood lifted in an instant and he grinned at Swerve. Frowning, Cyclonus considered the shot glass the bartender set before him. He wasn’t a fan of hard liquor and would usually decline such an offer. However, when Tailgate turned to him with that joyful smile, Cyclonus decided that just this once wouldn’t hurt.

He took up the glass as Swerve toasted their mutual friend, “Here’s to you, Tailgate!”

They raised their shots as one and downed them quickly. Cyclonus had to blink as tears came to his eyes. Based on the reactions of the other two, he surmised they found the taste just as unpleasant. The joy in Tailgate’s eyes never dimmed, though, even as he went into a coughing fit. The expression was familiar to Cyclonus; he’d worn it himself long ago.

Once his roommate's cough had subsided, Cyclonus carefully rested a hand on his shoulder. Tailgate glanced up at him with watery eyes. Suddenly realizing he didn’t know what to say, Cyclonus settled for squeezing lightly before hastily letting go and focusing back on the wall, attempting to ignore the warmth creeping over him at the fond smile Tailgate threw his way.

He definitely ignored Swerve’s knowing smirk.

#Transformers #Transformers IDW #TF IDW #MTMTE #Cyclonus #Tailgate #Swerve #Cygate #Humanformers #Writing Entity #Why do I keep writing these two in bar settings?#Just noticed that.#Anyway trans rights!#Transgender #Transmasculine

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transmasc-wizard · 2 years

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hello nickle happy wbw uhuhmmmmmmmm pick two wips. switch the setting but absolutely everything else stays the same. what would that be like

hmmm it would be impossible for everything to stay the same!! A lot of the thematic elements and plot details in my WIPs heavily rely on the setting, so really, this is more like me switching the casts than the settings lol. However, to now actually do this thought game:

i did this twice! hurrah. the first being switching NT21 and Rose Librarians, and the second being switching GFS and Secret WIP (which i am going to slowly start talking about more as november draws nearer).

NT21 and Rose Librarians: for NT21, taking place in Charlie's library would be... interesting. I think NT21 would have a lot less themes of academic pressure if it were in the library, and more about specifically finding solace in the arts and creation (though i think it'd have more focus on books than paintings in this version). i also think the monster would be more like all their mental health issues like it represents in TRL, as opposed to the combined anger of wronged spirits over the years.

Rose Librarians would be a lot more tense. it being in a school would mean that there are a lot more people there, a lot more people they have to save and not let the library-school just kill when it dies. I think Charlie would be an extension of the setting, still; he'd be part of the school. I also think though, since it would have been a place so many people are at, the monsters are actually fueled by a lot of people's negative emotions, not just his.

the secret wip and gfs stuff under the cut so this doesn't get long. i just reaaaaally wanted to include it, because... well. you'll see :)

so, the thing about the secret wip and GFS settings is that--in the same way a story taking place in 6th century england and a story taking place in 21st century england have the same setting--They Are The Same Setting, hundreds of years apart.

Secret WIP takes place first. It's about 50 years before the gods have their 100-year war that brings the world to the somewhat post-apocalyptic state it's in in GFS, GFS taking place about 550 years after that war. (GFS is far enough from the first apocalypse that the world has somewhat grown to a "normal" society, but... you know. the world might end again lmao.) So, they're roughly 700 years apart, in total.

the main things with the setting switch would be the fact that Secret WIP requires time travel and for spoiler reasons, time travel magic doesn't exist anymore by the time GFS rolls around. the Secret WIP heists would also look a lot different, since all the countries changed around. additionally, the GFS cast would not be trying to stop the sleeping gods from waking--they'd instead be trying to stop them from having their first war in the first place. they'd also have a lot more trouble with magic, since back 700 years earlier, the human understanding of magic was a lot worse. They didn't have as many people studying it, and there were a lot more mysteries to be had around it.

#wbw #worldbuilding wednesday #asks #bat wherearetheplants #wip nt21 #wip rose librarians #secret wip :)#wip gfs

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parallelroutes-ooc · 1 year

Text

[ MUNDAY: wow i never talk about myself, this feels so weird. (fair warning that i do tend to downplay myself.) ]

@ubiquitarian

❤️ — what are some of your best qualities?

i have been told by… a lot of people… that i'm a good listener.

friendliness. i highly enjoy being around people, even though i know i'm not going to be close with the vast majority of them. i'm just a social person by nature.

wisdom. i don't sound like it because i never have the chance to be? i also deliberately type like i normally do to make people feel comfy around me, so that doesn't help either lol. still, i enjoy being The Grandpa when i end up in communities with much younger people for this reason.

creativity. to the point where i literally can't enjoy media without taking inspiration and going right to my own projects and ocs/stories. it's a hassle struggling to absorb canon when i constantly have to muffle what i want to do to make sure i can pay attention RIP.

🧶 — any non-writing hobbies/interests?

lol there's a lot.

when it comes to free time… i primarily love mmorpgs, but i just don't stick to them with how much there is to do - never feels like i'm going to get anywhere and it's just overwhelming. i did do ffxiv, guild wars 2, blade and soul, aura kingdom/twin saga and had been pretty far in with all of them, but they just ultimately didn't scratch the itches i needed.

however atm, PSO2 NGS (phantasy star online 2, new genesis) is kind of my dream mmo? it's a new game, f2p is 100% viable, combat is really fun and feels really natural on ps4, i have a cute and outrageously beefy/OP level 19 character and solo everything, nothing is super hard to understand, perfect game for casuals like me who just play 1-2 hours in the morning and slowly chip away at the story/game. it's just basically everything i want in an mmorpg so i'm always just happy playing it.

shout-out to pokemon sword, rune factory 4, digimon story cybersleuth. old fav games are okami, pokemon emerald/oras and ultra moon, star ocean 3, .hack//GU, dark cloud 1+2. there's some i forgot by now but still.

then there's also making ocs and art. i am so so bad at fanart (hence why i stopped) but i did really well with drawing ocs back when i was still comfortable drawing. (designing weird monsters was a huge fav and i'd probably still be able to do it but don't have the desire/opportunity anymore so! and anthros/furries were super fun to draw! help! i drew too much!)

i'm also neglecting learning music production and japanese but they have been on my peripheral for 10+ years so someday i will actually do them. (neither will be very difficult for experience reasons but what is self-starting lol.)

i've never been too big on reading anime and manga so i tended to float toward jp games instead. but… i still have a hard time getting into something new so. lol.

fashion too. love making outfits. i used to be big into lolita fashion, visual kei, pastel goth. i still have so much punk stuff too lmao. pinterest is a hellhole to try and stop browsing if you like fashion/clothes in general.

😗 — what are some of your favorite things to do when you have some time to yourself?

generally, all the hobbies require effort that i don't necessarily have the energy or attention span to give, so it usually just ends up with talking to people, scrolling tumblr or twitter or reddit etc, listening to j-music.

this one doesn't have much to say, lol.

@queenharumiura

[ for 😗, see above! ]

🗒 — what is/are your favorite genre(s)/theme(s) to write?

fluff, hurt/comfort, weird plots that go really wild and meta, very short-term depressing/tragic thoughts, ships. i do like writing nsfw too, but definitely not here.

🤔 — what genre(s)/theme(s) do you struggle to write the most?

honestly? everything longterm. i tend to forget where plots are going, which is why i'm not great with RP plots or keeping track of hc characterization. i just don't have enough attention span to take notes or reread every rp ever BUT-- when i have an active/dedicated partner, i can keep rolling with something for a long AF time. (thank you in specific, neochan!)

serious answer is long sad/angsty plots. i just don't do that well with them unless i get in the mood, but i don't really want to be sad, so it's just not usually my thing if it's not just a thread or two.

there is also that long posts are pretty taxing too, but there's not much i can do about that because lol i just innately write with the intention of going back and rewriting. rip!

#ubiquitarian #dyingresolve #queenharumiura

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g-greed · 2 years

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Hello! You were suggested to me by someone and I like your content too!

Since it’s hard to find any of these, but can you do a

Jason x Barry?

I was going to ask for Jason x Bart but Jason x Barry sounds more interesting!

I dunno if I have any further details…Just Jason x Barry (f)ucking an argument out? (Sounds toxic I know)

Love your content keep up the great work! <3

(Also, I love how you automatically have Jason as top 😭)

Omg😭😭😭! PLS what am I doing?! I am sooo sorry this took years to finish anon!! I need to get it together. 2586 words.

Jason slammed Barry against their bedroom door, a hand going around Barry’s neck, while Jason’s body pinned him against the door. Barry tilted his head back, exposing more of his neck to Jason’s hand that was occasionally flexing here and there, meeting Jason’s glare head on, not all that afraid of the burning Lazarus green gaze settling onto him.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?” Jason said slowly, each word more low and gravelly as the next. Barry swallowed hard, trying to stop the trembling in his hands as they laid uselessly by his side.

“Are you a-ashamed of me?” Barry can feel the sting on the corner of his eyes, and he wields himself not to let a single tear drop, as he stared into rage fueled eyes in front of him.

“No! I'm not ashamed of you!” Jason snarled, his voice was coated in disbelief and more anger than there were before. His shoulders were pulled back a little, as if he was ready for attack, but Barry knew Jason wouldn’t hurt him, he hadn’t before, no matter how many times Jason said he would, be it emotionally or physically, Barry didn’t believe it, so why would he stop now?

“Then why can’t we tell them about us?” Barry was confused, hurt and a little insecure. They’ve been together for little over a year and no one but the Outlaws knew (he seriously can’t keep anything from them). Heck! Hal and Ollie still think he’s with Iris and they had split like over two years ago!

It makes Barry feel like a dirty little secret..

“I-. It’s difficult, okay? Please just drop it.” Barry could see Jason clenching his jaw as if he wanted to say something else and by the look in his eyes he really wanted to. So Barry gave him a reason to.

“I-I can’t just ‘drop it’, Jason,” Barry felt a lump form in his throat but he swallowed it down, keeping his teary eyes focused on Jason, “Th-This hurts me, a lot. I-I feel like a dirty secret, you're trying so hard to hide from everyone, and that hurts. So much.” Wiping a tear that was sliding down his cheek, Barry looked back up (when did he look down?) at Jason and saw his closed off expression.

No. No, that means, that means that he he would—

“You don’t understand…”

What.

Are you kidding me!? ‘I don’t understand’!? What kind of bullshit—!

“Then make me understand Jason!” Barry finally bursted out, “Make me understand on wh —”

“Because I love you..!”

Barry gasped at the confession. His head thunked slightly onto the door he was still crowded by. All this time they had been together, he had never heard the other male utter those three words, and Barry always reassured Jason that it was okay he just needed to take some time, and he understood that, besides he didn’t always have to say it. Barry can see it in Jason’s eyes, and the soft and gentle side he shows to Barry, a side that no one would believe the taller male of possessing.

You know what people say, ‘Actions speak louder than words.’ Though sometimes, they can have some real ultimatums.

So hearing those words sounded so surreal coming from Jason…

“Okay? I-I love you Barry. I love you so goddamn much. I want to tell everyone you're mine and mine alone, not Iris. Believe me, I do. I ju–-” Jason was cut off by a soft pair of lips, he melted before he kissed back.

Barry reached up and put his hands on Jason's jaw, drawing him closer than possible. After a while, Barry pulled away and gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile, “Then what’s holding you back?”

Jason huffed, half amused and half frustrated with himself. “You're good for me, Baby. Too good for me. Sooner than later everyone is gonna be sayin’ the same damn thing. I’m still surprised you're with me. I just want this,” he gestures between the both of them, looking at Barry’s bright eyes, “to be between us. Don’t be sayin’ I’m ashamed of you or this relationship because I'm not. Okay? Sweetheart you make me good, I haven’t felt like this since I came back. And I love you for that.”

Barry, not knowing how to react to that, reached up wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders and neck smashing their lips together, putting all his passion and love in that bruising kiss without saying anything. Jason, getting the hint, responded back in kind. He moved his hands down, feeling up Barry’s waist, ass, then thighs, before picking up the smaller male.

Barry wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist, pressing closer than possible. Pulling away just a bit he panted, “Really? A-All of it, you really mean it?” Instead of Jason answering him, he leaned forward, their lips connecting once again, but softer than before.

Lips connected and Barry still in his arms, Jason walked over to their shared bed putting Barry down gently. Pulling away from the soft kiss, Jason looked down at Barry’s flushed face. Moving some blonde hair out of Barry’s face, he smiled a little, “I meant every word, Baby.” Then he ducked his head down and sucked at Barry’s exposed neck.

Barry’s response was stuck in his throat and replaced with a whine. “J-Jason –oh god– please.” Barry pulled at Jason’s dark unruly hair, desperate for him to keep going. Jason moved a hand up from Barry’s waist to under his shirt, before grabbing a nipple and pulled. “AH~! S-shit, Jay..”

Jason smirked in Barry’s neck, before he sat up and pulled off both their shirts. Throwing them over his shoulder, he started working pulling off Barry’s tight boxers that left nothing to the imagination. Throwing them over as well Jason turned an appreciative eye over to Barry’s body.

“How did I get so lucky?” Jason whistles as he looks Barry over from head to toe. Covering his blushing face with hands, Barry groaned, “Stop staring and get on with it already..”

Jason pulled the hands away and held them up over Barry’s head with one hand, while the other teased his sides, “It’s true, Sweetheart,” Jason looked up at Barry again, “Think you can keep your hands up, Baby?” Getting a nod in return, Jason slid his body down until he was facing the bottom part of Barry’s body.

Jason bent Barry’s legs by the knee, then spread them out. Leaning down, he pressed bruising open-mouth kisses onto the waist, around the hips, and thighs. Barry bucked his hips trying to move in closer. “Jason s-stop teasing me!” Barry whined, trying to move his hips, to build up more pressure.

Jason pulled away a little, watching the hickies heal over quickly with a frown. “If only you didn’t have fast healing. I would love to see my marks on you.” Jason tsked, pretending he didn’t hear a word Barry said as he thumbed over a hickey that was healing slower than the others with how much effort was put into it.

Barry panted, as he thought over how to answer that. “Help me sit up.” He mumbled, averting his eyes to the side, as his blush came back full force. Jason perked up and studied Barry for a hot minute, deciding Barry wasn’t going to elaborate any further, he sat him up.

Still avoiding eye contact, Barry reached for the nightstand drawer and pulled back with a pair of handcuffs. Pushing them forward to Jason, Barry took a shuddering breath, “I-uh, gotten those from the Precinct.”

Jason went stock still as he stared blankly at what were clearly meta-dampening cuffs. Jason looked back up at Barry, who was too busy worrying his bottom lip and looking off to the side, to notice Jason’s small smile. Jason reached a hand to pat at Barry’s thigh to get his attention. “Hey Sweetheart. Will you look at me?” Once he got his attention, he brought the handcuffs to eye-level with Barry, “You sure?”

Barry nodded, “Uh, yeah. You mention my fast healing a few times, so I was wondering if you would be okay with this?” He finished with a nervous smile, although Jason could see some excitement behind it.

Jason leaned forward some, kissed that nervousness away, before pulling back some. “Okay Baby, hold your hands together and out..”

“Hah-AH~! Ja-Jason, please st-stop teasin’ me~.” Barry whined out as he withered over the bed, as Jason fingered him and a hot wet mouth bit and sucked around his nipple.

“Almost there Baby. Just. A. Bit. More.” Jason emphasizes his words with strong thrusts of his fingers pounding in and out of Barry, before they nail his prostate, sending Barry over the edge.

“Shitshitshit! Agh~! Cum-Cumming! Ngh-ah~.” Barry wailed as his second orgasm came through, his back arched off the bed, making him press his chest closer to Jason’s willing mouth, that’s hungerly ravaging Barry’s chest and sensitive nipples.

Barry trembled as he relaxed back into the bed, his upper body twisting to the side as he panted and blinked to get the black spots away from his vision. Once he got his bearings together, he turned his body back to face Jason, catching his concerned filled eyes. “You okay, Baby?” As he slid his hands up and down his thigh to balance him.

Barry nodded as he gulped down some air before he could answer him, “Y-Yeah. Just..are you gonna fuck me now?” Jason paused in his patting, so he could stare incredulously down at him, but Barry continued as if he didn’t see at all, “‘Cause I-I need you to fuck me, right now, please.”

“Oh dear god, Baby. You're insatiable.” Jason chuckled as he leaned down pressing a lingering kiss on Barry’s lips, before he pulled back and grabbed Barry’s thighs, wrapping them around his waist, as he got the discarded lube bottle he threw on the side of the bed. Pouring a heavy amount onto his palm, he slicked his cock up while his other hand closed the cap of the bottle and threw it on the side of the bed again.

One hand on Barry’s waist while the other is steering his cock towards the twitching hole, Jason looked up at Barry's face, “You ready baby?” Barry nodded his head feverishly, ‘yes’s’ falling out just as quick. Jason started pushing his length in, causing Barry to let out a high whine, not pausing until he bottomed out.

Getting a sharp nod to move, Jason pulled back out until the tip was just in before slamming back in hitting Barry’s prostate dead on and Barry sobbed. Jason sped up his thrust as he leaned down sucking and biting Barry’s neck as he moved up until he’s kissing Barry deeply.

Barry kissed back, trying to move his hands up to wrap around Jason’s neck and shoulders, but the handcuffs wouldn’t spread his hands further apart than they already were. Barry pulled back from the kiss, making a frustrated noise as he glared down at the cuffs. Jason, seeing this pulled back some, his thrust slowing down. “You want me to-.”

“No! Ju-Just lean down some.” Barry cut him off, huffing as he tried to move his hands.

Leaning down, Jason felt the cold chain off the handcuffs pressed against his warm neck, causing a shiver to go up and down his spine. Smiling to himself once he’s satisfied with the result, Barry looked back up at Jason, “Continue please, Baby.” And who was Jason to reject?

Jason sped up his thrust, diving down again to ravish Barry’s neck, while his left hand raised up and spread Barry’s leg out to thrust in deeper. “Hah-ah~! Jason, Jason~! Th-There! Right there! P-Please~! Oh, shit! So~good, fuck!” Barry babbled incoherently as he twitched and tightened around Jason’s cock making Jason groan at the feeling of Barry’s wet and hot hole trying to suck him in and the stingy feeling of Barry’s blunt nails scratching down the upper part of his back.

Jason snuck his hand between them and pressed his palm against Barry’s stomach, feeling his cock bulge sliding in and out of him. Barry’s eyes flew open and a loud mewl escaped his mouth. “Jason…Jason. Do that again. Please.”

Groaning against Barry’s neck in arousal as he panted, he pressed down a little harder not enough to hurt Barry, but enough for him to feel it. Barry let out a whimper at the feeling, his cuffed hands grabbing and pulling Jason’s black hair, as bucked his lower body down, meeting the hard thrusts head-on.

Barry let out a sharp gasp, his orgasm sneaking up on him, as he felt the familiar hot pressure building up. “Jason! Cum-! Ah~! ‘M cumming!” Barry warned as he pulled Jason closer to him, his eyes rolling back as his orgasm rushed through him, spurting over his stomach.

Jason grinds his teeth together as he felt Barry's hot hole tightened around his cock triggering his own orgasm. Jason bit Barry’s shoulder to smother his groans and moans as he came, painting Barry’s insides with hot and white cum. Barry mewled at the feeling, tightening his grip on Jason.

Jason snarled at the feeling of Barry basically milking his cock for his come as he tightened around him again. Jason let his mouth unhook on where he bit Barry’s throat, before licking the bite to relieve some pain.

Jason lifted his hands off of Barry’s hips to his biceps, unhooking his still cuffed hands from around his neck, putting them down, before he leaned back pulling out his now soft cock out of Barry’s used hole.

Barry whined softly at the loss before he felt himself be moved, feeling the soft pillows resting beneath his head. Barry cracked one eye open when he felt the bed pressure shift, until he saw Jason head to the bathroom, most likely getting a warm washcloth.

Barry relaxed back into the bed further when Jason came back and wiped his body down, getting rid of the cum on his stomach and some that was dripping down his thigh.

Jason threw the cloth in the hamper before he climbed into the bed, Barry rolling over to cuddle against him. Jason reached to grab Barry’s hands, “Come on, Baby. Let me get these off of you, ‘kay?”

Barry groaned as he shook his head, “No. I wanna feel this in the morning.” Barry buried his head deeper into the pillows. Jason let out an amused huff, “Sorry. No can do, Baby. I don’t wanna have ya uncomfortable when ya sleepin’, SweetiePie.”

Barry long hum as he tried to fight off the exhaustion to give an actual answer, “Um the nightstand. Should be a meta bracelet in there somewhere..” He mumbled as he half shrugged, missing the way Jason stared at him.

Shaking his head, Jason chuckled as he reached over Barry to look through the drawer and just like Barry said a meta dampening bracelet was in there. Sliding the bracelet on Barry’s wrist he quickly grabbed the key for the handcuffs and unlocked them, before tossing them over the drawer-counter.

Settling down and bringing Barry closer towards him, causing the smaller male to sigh out, he bent down to press a lingering kiss onto the blonde hair, mumbling out ‘good night’ and ‘I love you baby’ all he got was a soft grunt in response.

His lips twitching into a smile, Jason let sleep take him.

PLS-! Why DID THIS TAKE SO LONG TO DO?!?! AND WHY THE HELL IS IT SO FLUFFY????

#help me pls #what am i doin with my life #get it together #jaybarry #jason todd #barry allen

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