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back2bluesidex · 6 months

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Give Me A Taste - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, established relationship au

Wordcount: 1.3k+

Summary: Yoongi is down bad for you, he has been missing your taste crazily. Thanks to unexpected turns of events and a cancelled show, he can finally satiate his hunger for you.

Warnings: Titty fucking, yes, he fucks her tits, tit play (a bit), fingering, he cums on her chest, a heated make out, Unprotected sex (don't try this at home), NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: It's been a minute since I have written anything for Mr. Min. so... here it is. also, this is an apology because I won't be able to update WDBHG this week. I'm so sorry.:(

You are trying your best to scrub off the burnt patch of your frying pan when you hear the door lock chiming its jovial sound.

“What the –” muttering to yourself, you start peeling off the washing gloves from your hands. It’s only you and Yoongi who know the passcode of your shared home. You are inside the condo and Yoongi is out on a world tour still having three more weeks to come back home. So it’s definitely a trespasser, or worse, a burglar or a robber trying to break into your house.

Your blood runs cold at the thought as you walk towards the door for taking a look at the doorbell screen. Your steps halt when you see your boyfriend putting off his shoes and slipping into home slippers.

“Yoongi?” you whisper, your eyes fill with moisture at an instant. It’s been nearly three months since you last saw him, smelled his calming scent, traced his skin with your fingertips. You have been missing him crazily and a brief phone or video call a day does absolutely nothing to quench your thirst.

“One of the shows got canceled due to extreme weather conditions, we have a week till the next one. So, we decided to rest for a bit.” Yoongi reasons in his usual calm voice, before you get to ask him. He comes to stand right in front of you as you keep on staring at him.

“Oh. Have you-”

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Yoongi cuts you off. His face is unreadable but his eyes are dark, which makes it hard for you to assume anything.

“No, I-”

You get cut off again but this time because Yoongi slams his lips onto yours, pinning you to the nearest wall.

Your boyfriend is usually calm and collected but he becomes a beast when lust takes over his senses.

He grabs your wrists with both of his hands, pinning those above your head as he presses his body on yours.

He kisses you hungrily, as if trying to lavish your lips for all the times he was away from you. You kiss him back with just as much urgency. The make out session is so heated that it spreads heat all over your body, including your pussy that just started wetting your cotton panties.

You realize Yoongi is on the same page when his semi hard bulge presses on your stomach.

He bites down on your lower lip, pulling it with his teeth before leaving you fucked up with only kisses.

Yoongi loves you. Oh hell! It will be underestimated to say that he just loves you. He is obsessed with you! He craves for you like a lunatic. He starves for you.

This prolonged period of staying away from you has been taking a toll on him, that’s why he came rushing back to you as soon as he got the chance.

He looks at you with hooded eyes, stares down at your swollen lips then at your perked nipples. Fuck! You look heavenly like this. He can’t wait to feel your warmth wrapped around his length.

“I’ve missed you,Y/N. I can barely control myself anymore.” Yoongi whispers as he latches his lips to your throat, placing soft and lingering kisses wherever he could reach.

“You don’t need to control yourself, Yoongi. I am all yours. Do whatever you want. I am all yours.” You breathe out. Yoongi’s tight grip on your wrists arouses you by an impossible amount.

“Yes baby. I am going to fuck you so good now. But before that.. Give me a taste? Will you?” Yoongi’s low voice sends a trail of goosebumps all over your body. You suddenly find an urge to shy away from him and his eyes which are currently boring in your chest, more precisely, your nipples.

Yoongi finds it adorable the way you get a little shy whenever he asks for a taste of your tits. He loves your tits, he can never get enough of those and fucking your tits is one of his most favourite ways of ruining you.

He leaves your hands and clutches at the rim of your oversized tshirt to pull it off of your body. His eyes turn even darker as soon as you are topless in front of him.

He palms your tits for a few moments. You push your tits out to enjoy more of his touch by arching your back. Yoongi chuckles at your eagerness.

“Guess you missed me too, darling?” he squeezes both of your tits at the same time to erect a soft contained sigh from your lips.

“You have no idea how much.” you murmur while enjoying Yoongi’s rough hands on your soft supple flesh.

His fingers find your nipples and he twists those to satisfy himself, “then you will let me fuck your titties today, won’t you?”

“I will…” you voice somehow.

Yoongi bends down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

As soon as the bud is inside his mouth, he starts lapping it up with his saliva before sucking it hard. All of your breath is knocked out when he worries your nipple between his teeth, not quite biting it rather playing with it with practiced skills.

One of your hands finds its way to his long dark hair, nails raking through his scalp, earning a moan from your boyfriend. Your other hand travels down to south, brushing through the rough material of his jeans, grabbing his bulge and rubbing it to satiate your burning need that has developed for him.

Yoongi repeats his actions with your other nipple, arousing you more and more.

You are far too gone with the pleasure to notice that Yoongi has smeared your chest with his saliva, seemingly preparing you tits to take his cock.

“Should we head to the couch now?” he asks with his gentle yet low voice. You nod eagerly.

He lifts you up effortlessly, carries you to the couch and lays you down. Swiftly removing the rest of your clothes and leaving you lying naked on the couch, he reaches for his own clothes.

His cock springs out of his boxers, tall and proud and ready to fuck you. He smirks, feeling you eyeing him like the horny, hungry girl that you are.

Yoongi climbs on top of you, places his knees on either side of you, and lines his cock in the middle of your tits. You squeeze your tits tightly to make a tight passage for your boyfriend’s greedy cock.

His first thrust is a little messy, the head of his cock nudges you on your chin, painting your chin with his precum.

The next thrusts are more stable and steady and soon you hear Yoongi groaning in pleasure. He is such a goner when it comes to your tits. You tighten your tits even more to rile him up.

“B-Baby, ugh, Y/N! I will c-cum at this rate.” Yoongi whines. Your eyes roll back at the sensation of his cock being squeezed by your big tits.

But you start seeing stars when you feel Yoongi’s fingers parting your folds and drawing tight circles on your clit.

“Oh my– Yoongi” you fumble to make any coherent sentence.

Arousal pools out of your hole and creates a mess down there.

Apparently, it’s too much for Yoongi to take in your fucked up state, your wetness on his fingers and your tits squeezing the hell out of his cock, all together. His dick starts twitching and before he could warn you, he is cumming all over your face, throat and chest.

Your grip on your tits loosen as you bring your hand to wipe your face off. When your vision returns to you, you find Yoongi licking your juices off of his fingers while maintaining a steady eye contact with you. He definitely doesn’t look like someone who just cummed all over you.

Repositioning himself, Yoongi lowers his head to the level of your cunt and chuckles in his breathy voice, “Next up is your pussy. Give me a taste, yeah?”

And you know you are going to have a long day ahead.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfiction #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga fanfic #suga x you #bts oneshot #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #bts

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goosita · 4 months

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young!politician!snow enjoys making you squirm, knowing how easy it is to get reactions out of you

it’s so easy for him to throw you off balance, to surprise you at every turn. ever since the night he drove you home, with his hand resting so warm and heavy on your thigh, you’ve barely been able to focus at work. every time your mind starts to wander, it ends up settling and fixating on the same thing; him.

you wonder if he can sense it, if he can feel your eyes trailing over every inch of him when he breezes out of his office for another coffee break. your gaze lingers on his broad shoulders when his back is turned, or on his pretty profile when he’s looking the other way. you try not to let it be obvious, politely averting your eyes when he spins to face you again or return to his office.

it’s been several days since the night you let him drop you off at your apartment, and coriolanus takes up about 98% of your thoughts. he’s on his third cup of black coffee for the day when he pauses and turns to face you, speaking up.

“do you have plans for this evening, miss y/n?” he asks, smiling kindly at you. you’re not sure what to say, caught off guard by his question.

“nothing other than melting into my couch with a book, sir,” you answer honestly. your heart kicks up in pace at his question, wondering why he’d want to know.

“well, you do now.”

you blink and furrow your brows, looking at him unsure. you can tell he’s a little frazzled today, hair slightly out of place from running his hand through it several times. he takes a long sip of his coffee and sighs.

“i have to go to a gala tonight, something they only just told me now at the last minute,” he explains, looking down into his cup. “of course, i’ll need a date.”

you stare at him, not sure if the world is playing some sick joke on you or not. coriolanus lifts his eyes and stares right back at you, waiting for you to say something.

“…..me?”

it comes out as a pathetic squeak, but he doesn’t point it out. he simply nods, icy gazs still boring into you while you scramble for an answer.

“uhm. y-yeah, yeah okay,” you stutter, feeling small under his stare. he gives you an easy smile then, his whole demeanor seemingly going more lax.

“excellent. finish whatever you’re working on and log off for the day, we have time find you a dress.”

dress shopping with coriolanus snow is something you never thought would ever happen, yet here you are. he had slid you into your coat at the door after you’d logged off your computer, whisking you down to his car which he again drove himself. as you’d opened your mouth to say you didn’t really have money for a new dress, he’d cut you off easily, telling you that if he was the one to drag you to this gala, the least he could do was pay for your outfit.

now, you stood in front of a wall of mirrors in a green silk gown that hugged your body in all of the right ways. it fell to the floor, but bared your shoulders and arms. coriolanus walked in a slow circle around you, scanning every inch of your body carefully. he stopped then and nodded at one of the fitting room attendants, who brought him a black velvet box. inside, a white diamond necklace sat with a single, small pendant. a snowflake.

you tried as hard as you could not to shiver when coriolanus stepped behind you, carefully moving your hair to clasp the necklace around your throat. you could feel his breath on the back of your neck and you kept your eyes down, almost afraid to catch his gaze in the mirror.

“beautiful,” he whispered, so soft that you were certain that you were the only person who heard it. his fingertips slowly trailed down your spine and it was impossible not to shudder.

“look at yourself,” he said quietly, reaching around to your front, lifting your chin. you looked over your reflection, tilting your head to the side. he was right; the dress was absolutely stunning, the pendant resting on your sternum sparkly but understated, tasteful.

“its lovely, coryo,” you said, finally meeting his eyes in the mirror. his plush lips stretched into a dazzling smile, clearly pleased at your use of his nickname.

“yes, you are.”

you didn’t notice as the fitting room attendants all exited, leaving you alone with coriolanus in the secluded dressing room. his hand traveled down from your chin to your shoulder, fingertips brushing down your arm before taking your own hand in his. he smiled again and led you over to a seat, gesturing for you to sit.

coriolanus grabbed a box and lifted it open, revealing a pair of silver heels that looked more expensive than a year’s worth of your rent. and then, he did something you would never imagine.

coriolanus snow kneeled before you.

you stopped yourself from inhaling sharply at the surprise, at the image of who everyone knew to be the eventual future president of Panem, dropping to his knees at your feet. he carefully lifted the hem of your dress, just enough to wrap a hand around your ankle and place your foot in his lap. then, he picked up one shoe and slit it on, taking extra care to clasp the strap around your ankle. his eyes lifted to yours, gazing up at you almost reverently as he stroked over the bone on the inside of your ankle. he held your stare for a long moment before repeating the action on your other foot.

“coriola—“

he cut you off as he rose to his feet again, taking your hand and pulling you up.

“do they fit alright?” he asked, breaking the intimate bubble he had created a moment ago. you nodded, swallowing hard.

“yes,” you breathed, searching his eyes curiously. what was he playing at here? what was he thinking?

“perfect. i suspect it’ll be a lovely evening, hm?”

#politician!coryo x secretary!reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut

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lev1hei1chou · 7 months

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Why i believe Gojo could come back

This chapter left us in a devastated state and was absolutely uncalled for, but I personally believe this isnt the end of the strongest sorcerer. There are several reasons as to why (These are just opinions, I could be wrong in certain areas AND personal feelings might make an occassional appearance.)

LEAKS:

This whole panel was obviously made for a reason. And we dont see gojo making a decision. Considering the fact that this is literally THE Gojo Satoru, he's more likely to choose north since there's numerous things left as plot holes. We'll get to that.

Here in this page, he mentions that Toji should've cut his head off to actually kill him. In the leaks, whats cut off is his upper body but not the head! I still can't quite wrap my head around RCT but lets say he's not able to heal himself. You know who can and who would? Yuta and Shoko

Now moving on

"Gojo then bids farewell to everyone." If hes truly gone then why would he be bidding farewell to the fallen comrades? If he's dead then isn't he supposed to stay in the afterlife with them?

Pretty self explanatory

What if Kashimo is going in to distract Sukuna while Shoko and Yuta can heal Gojo?

Now think about this. Gojo is gone, Shoko doesnt fight and who are all left? A bunch of sorcerers who are literally under 20, need guidance and we havent really seen any panel where they actually plan how they're going to go about in the whole battle. Gojo isnt a want, hes a NEED, a NECESSITY.

Remember, Toji who was dead long ago pretty much appeared out of nowhere in Shibuya Arc LMAO so- yes

WHAT IS THIS EVEN SUPPOSED TO MEAN

Theres no way Gojo would be left sealed for 3 whole years, brought him back just to kill him off in the most disrespectful way possible.

Besides, things that Gojo wanted to do haven't happened yet.

He wanted to tell megumi about his father

He wanted to see his students surpass the strongest sorcerer, aka him

He wanted to get rid of the higher ups

He wanted to properly mourn suguru (for which kenjaku has to be defeated but oh well)

He wanted to save Megumi

How'd we know what Gojo said here.

On to the other aspects of why killing off Gojo was a bad idea. We barely ever saw what happened to him, and an off screen death to the so called strongest sorcerer is just senseless. Gojo is a fan favourite. People started watching the show for Gojo (myself included) and there's a high possibility of multiple people dropping the manga since he isn't even there anymore.

The ending could take a turn for the worse considering the fact that Sukuna is just overpowered and Kenjaku hasn't done anything as of now. Unless there's some heavy plot armor I dont think the students even stand a chance against Sukuna and Kenjaku. Both outcomes- the students and others emerging as victors or sukuna emerging as a victor could make the ending absolutely terrible and this might as well top AOT for being the manga with the most disliked ending.

Gojo Satoru is the mentor for multiple; for Yuji, Nobara, Megumi, Yuta, Maki, Panda, Toge and the third years and its necessary for them to have someone to teach them. It is one of Satoru's wishes to see his students surpass him, which can happen only when he's there since there's nobody else who is actually capable of teaching them and leading them into the world as actual graduated sorcerers.

So Gojo dying will make the manga take a turn for the worse. Killing him off in the middle makes absolutely no sense and is just plain bad writing. People are prolly gonna kill me for this but lets admit the truth. Hyping this battle, building up tension just to finish him off screen is NOT good writing.

Anyways. There is factual proof of Gojo potentially making a return. Maybe at a cost, like him losing his power, losing his "strongest" title or anything else. He may not even be the same anymore but honestly as long as he's back, I'm fine.

It happened previously, and could happen again.

Satoru Gojo may not be the strongest and the honoured one, but may be reborn as a newer version of himself after getting humbled. Lotuses, as mentioned above symbolise rebirth, which is why i believe this is not the end.

A small bit of advice for gojo fans: Go watch haikyuu or highschool babysitters as a form of self care <3

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evilkitten3 · 3 months

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ok so like i know the reason is just. sexism but one thing that really irks me about how the post-timeskip naruto manga handled which characters became medic nin bc it makes absolutely no sense to me

sakura's decision to train under tsunade makes sense, and i love that she got a super strength power up, so no notes there, but the other teams.... yeesh

so first off, team ten. we're told that ino decided to follow sakura into mednin land to keep being rivals with her... despite that at no point factoring into their rivalry at all beforehand. ino never showed any interest in that, nor was the yamanaka clan ever mentioned to have anything to do with healing as far as i can remember. it's like going to art school to stay with your bestie when your goal is to become a dentist. why are you there. find other ways to spend time together. it also kinda goes against her family's whole thing as. the guys who do the torture stuff. and it's barely ever relevant anyway

for team ten, i think the team medic should've been shikamaru, and i think this not just bc i think it makes more sense skill-wise (something about the way the nara clan's various shadow jutsu work just screams "you need good chakra control for this" to me), but also bc i think it would make asuma's death a thousand times more painful. bc shikamaru is a slacker. he's not learning medical ninjutsu bc he wants to, he's learning it bc someone on the team has to in order to stick together. they're all chuunin now; one of them has to be a medic. them's the rules. but he doesn't really care that much, even when he is trying to learn, and he's so used to being smart enough to not have to pay attention in lessons anyway that he's not prepared for classes that require his full focus. and then asuma dies and shikamaru is doomed to spend the rest of his fucking life wondering if he could've saved him by paying just a little more attention to those medical ninjutsu lessons (he could not have (but he'll never know for sure))

team eight makes some sense, since giving the girl who struggles with fighting the healing job isn't exactly out of nowhere, but i do feel it was the lazy choice. kiba already had a sister involved in the medical business, even if she deals more with animals, so he could've started learning from her and found that he liked it. plus kiba's goal is to be hokage, and the current hokage is a mednin, so it's not like it wouldn't support his goal. or shino could do it; would add another layer to his character. hinata works fine but. it's just not a very interesting development imo

but what really gets me is team gai. good freaking grief. out of every single team, team gai was the one with the most obvious choice. bc there was only one choice. lee can't do any kind of ninjutsu, and tenten's only real backstory is that her chakra control isn't good enough for her to be a medic nin. so it had to be neji. canon establishes that every team has to have a medic; this is a policy tsunade got passed even before she became hokage, so no way in hell is she going back on it now.

moreover, neji becoming a medical ninja - especially if hiashi encouraged it - would show some development for the hyuuga clan maybe starting to suck a bit less. bc as a medic, neji would be bound by oath to stay alive for as long as possible. imagine a world in which hizashi came back and hiashi was able to tell his brother that not only was their family starting to change, but his son had chosen a path that would prevent him from ever following in his father's footsteps. it would be the first step (of many) to show that the hyuuga clan was freeing itself from its own bullshit.

also it would've made sakura catching the zetsu pretending to be neji a thousand times funnier. like that's her coworker. they've shared shifts at the hospital together. she's seen neji drink vodka straight from a bottle and then crash on her couch after they got out of a twelve-hour surgery on the fucking dumbass chuunin who managed to step on his own boobytrap. she knows him.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #medical ninjutsu #iryou ninjutsu #haruno sakura #senju tsunade #yamanaka ino #nara shikamaru #hyuuga hinata #inuzuka kiba #hyuuga neji #white zetsu #hyuuga clan #neji should've been a mednin not hinata i will die on that hill

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frogchiro · 2 months

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I hear it is time to spread the word of our lord and savior Tachanka? 👀

link: (https://rainbowsix.fandom.com/wiki/Tachanka_(Siege) Context of link: Just the wiki page of R6 operator Tachanka.

But I wanna highlight a few things!!!

Alexsandr Senaviev was born on November 3rd in Leningrad, Russia to a military family. At the age of eighteen, Senaviev was conscripted into military service just as the Soviet Union was ending its operations in Afghanistan. Upon the dissolution of his draft, Senaviev opted to enlist full time. He was part of the wrestling league, where his formidable frame and match strategy earned him accolades.

Alexsandr Senaviev has a boisterous sense of humor with a booming laugh. He can be quite blunt, but without the intent to offend

Senaviev's younger sister is a doctor and our discussion had barely started when he was showing me pictures of her in her doctor's smock, along with a dozen more photos of his nieces and nephews and his own kids. […] He and his sister grew up in a strict household without many things, which is why he makes a great effort to enjoy life. They both make sure that their kids are loved and raised with laughter. At the same time, he doesn't like to buy or accumulate physical objects and emphasizes this with his children, much to their consternation. I suspect that's also partly to do with his divorce. […]

(Also the main reason why we refer to Tachanka as 'lord'/godly is mainly 'cause his weapons/loadout is shit.)

Ladies and gentlemen, we got ourselves a REAL LIFE DILF <33

From what I gathered on his wiki he has at least two children, one of them a son and an ex-wife! Also him being an ex wrestler because of his size and strength...

Imagine being a babysitter for his kids, a 6 year old boy and a sweet 3 year old girl who absolutely adore their nanny who spends the majority of their time with them since their father is still a busy man and their mother is using her newfound freedom as a divorced woman so you're babysitting the little ones for a hefty sum from their dad whenever you're free from college.

But you have to admit, while the kids are literal angels and a delight to babysit, they nor the money are the sole reason for you being so eager to babysit and their father, Alexsandr, played a huge part in it too.

He was so large and heavily build, no doubt from his years in the military but his charming, boisterous attitude combined with his broad, toothy grin that almost seemed boyish on his mature face was what really made you fall for him :(( Whenever the kids were playing or napping, you two had a little time with each other to just talk and spend time together, get to know each other better because 'Let's not make this one of those stick-in-the-ass rigid employer-employee relationships, yes?' as Alexsandr put it himself.

The connection between you deepened but you were still so shy under his clear blue eyes :(( You couldn't possibly do the first move, what if he doesn't return your feelings? He's much older than you, he has a military career, two kids and a divorce, surely he wouldn't ever be interested in someone like you...right?

Ofc little did you know that Alexsandr was tugging his lengthy, heavy cock every night after sending you off with a thick wad of cash and a loud, happy thank you for taking care of his kids, though in reality he was everything but happy :(( Like it or not but the burly male fell for you, the most cliche thing on earth, the young, sweet babysitter that visited him home almost every day to care for his little ones with a gentle smile towards them and him too, such a stark contrast from his ex wife...

He was cumming every night multiple times to the thought of you right here beside him, in his bed, all nice and naked, sated and warm after a night of passionate love making. He came on his hairy tummy with a displeased growl, once the post nut clarity set in and realized that he wasted so much precious seed when it could be inside you >:(

Alexsandr knew he had to have you, had to confess to you how he felt but didn't know how; his loud, charismatic attitude failing him for the first time in years but these thoughts were for the time being pushed back once again to the back of his mind. He could think of a better solution on how to win you over once he wasn't so terribly horny, testosterone clouding his mind as his heavy cock jumped to life once again, thick potent sperm oozing from his swollen tip and Alexsandr could only think about how well he could breed you, he was a real stud despite his age y'know? Plus he always wanted another kid anyway <33

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #rainbow six siege x reader #lord tachanka #tachanka #tachanka x reader #i can't with the fact that the 'lord' part is sarcastic bc his weapons are shit😭#rainbow six siege #r6s x reader

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midnightechoes · 6 months

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Five years ago today, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power premiered on Netflix. I had seen a few preview articles about it, and liked what I saw. Those articles mostly focused on She-Ra’s, Adora’s, Glimmer’s, Bow’s, and Catra’s redesigns, and I thought they were fabulous. I loved Adora’s new red jacket and bouffant hair style. Glimmer’s entire redesign was inspired, and I loved that they made Bow black so we could have more diversity in the main cast.

It was She-Ra’s and Catra’s redesigns that caught my eyes the most, though. They made Catra an actual catgirl, and not just in the anime sense where she's just a cute girl with cat ears and maybe a cat tail. She was a full-on furry. It was a brilliant design choice. Honestly it’s no wonder that so many were instantly drawn to her.

And of course, She-Ra herself. I loved her new look, and her huge ass new Sword of Protection. In fact, I loved it so much that I drew this picture of her before the show even came out:

Then the show came out, and needless to say, I fell in love. And honestly, it changed my life.

I know, I know. That sounds very hyperbolic, and to an extent it is, but in a lot of ways, I’m absolutely serious.

Alright, I have to back up a little. Back when I was in college, and for a few years after, a couple of friends and I tried to make a webcomic called The Devil’s Gate. It was minorly successful but eventually floundered. Then I met some people and we tried to make a video game, which also failed. After those few years, I found myself on my own and trying to rework the concept of my webcomic. Making comics, creating stories, those have always been my dream, and I was desperately trying to figure out a story I could make work, something that I believed in. But it never truly got off the ground. By the end of 2015 I had given up on the comic, realizing that after working on it for years in different forms that I needed to step away from it.

I didn’t really know what to do after that. I was still doing my quick daily doodles, but I wasn’t writing, I wasn’t drawing anything of note. I felt emotionally and physically drained of my creativity. I was honestly getting to the point where I thought it might be time for me to give up on trying to be creative or making things all together.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power came out on November 13, 2018, but despite looking forward to it, I didn’t actually watch it when it came out. It wasn’t until that weekend that I decided to check it out.

I was instantly hooked. I binged through the entire season in two days, and did plenty of crying and cheering. And then rewatched it immediately. I was in love. I was obsessed. It had been a long time since anything grabbed me like SPOP did. I loved the characters. I loved the colorful, sci-fi-fairy tale world of Etheria. I loved how unapologetically feminine it was. And most of all, I loved how queer it was.

I hadn’t done a ton of shipping before SPOP. I’ve been down bad for harlivy for what feels like my whole life, and I was angry when Mika and HG didn’t get together in Warehouse 13, but more often than not I had just been conditioned not to look for queer things in mainstream culture, and even barely in subculture.

That is to say, when I was smashed in the face with Catradora I was surprised how much I glommed onto it immediately. I was absolutely taken with Adora and Catra and their relationship. Both characters were so relatable, and despite not quite being text (although the subtext was so loud and obvious it might as well have been text), it was impossible to not read their feelings for each other as romantic.

It wasn’t just Catradora, even if that was a lot of it. Spinnerella and Netossa being canon from the start was wonderful. How much Glimmer and Bow screamed “BISEXUAL DISASTERS” from the start was adorable. Scorpia’s crush on Catra was as cute as it was sad in its one-sidedness.

I had never really been in a fandom. That is, yeah I’ve liked things, loved things even, but I never found other people to talk about it at length, never found discords just for that thing, never read or wrote fanfic, barely ever drew fanart.

But, I watched SPOP, and then I watched it again. And then I drew Catra. And then I drew Adora. And then I drew them again. And suddenly I was on AO3, a site I never frequented, reading Catradora fics. And then I had an AO3 account. That December I participated in Catradora Week 2018 (I’d never heard of this kind of thing) and drew two pictures for it and wrote my first fanfic.

By the end of February I had drawn more in the three months since the show had premiered than I had in the previous year. I was working furiously on a long, multi-chapter fanfic, and writing more words than I had in the previous couple of years combined.

I was inspired again.

In the 18 months that SPOP ran for, I drew more than I had in years, I wrote hundreds of thousands of words. I felt so rejuvenated and happy about my creativity and free for the first time in years.

It’s hard to put into words exactly how it felt. I was so close to giving up my art and writing, which honestly, would have been giving up a part of myself. An important part of myself. It’s not overstating that SPOP saved me, or at least my creative spirit.

I also learned about the wonders of being in a fandom and fandom things like fan weeks, big bangs, zines. And I made some wonderful friends that I cherish to this day.

Even as I inevitably moved onto other hyperfixations, my love for She-Ra hasn’t diminished. Plushie Catra and Adora sit next to me on my desk every day. Catradora art still hangs on my wall.

The inspiration that SPOP ignited in me hasn’t died either. It’s carried me through a tremendous level of creativity that I’ve been riding since the premiere. It let me create a ton of fan art for SPOP, and then RWBY and then the Witch From Mercury, and I’ve written a ton of fanfics for RWBY and Supergirl. And perhaps the best, that inspiration has helped me create more OC stuff in the last couple years than I had in a long time.

I owe She-Ra and The Princesses of Power so much. I am so happy that it exists and that it happened when it did. I’ll always cherish it.

And for real, Netflix, SPOP spin-off movies WHEN?!

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onlyonetifosi · 8 days

Note

Are you gonna do a chapter based on Joris’ birthday

Bonus chapter: Joris bday

sorry to be late for this been very busy with assigments

WARNING: SMUT!!!! (at the beggining only) then its lots of fluff

The sun kissed the city of Montecarlo, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets. It was a special day for Joris, and Y/N couldn't wait to celebrate his birthday.

Soft and lazy kisses trailing slowly down his bare chest have Joris’ eyes shifting behind his eyelids as he wakes up, unwillingly being pulled into the start of the day. A small grunt sounds from his chest in refusal to open his eyes, yet the soft little pitter patters now walking down the dips of his abs stir the butterflies in his belly.

His attention draws to the fingernails hooking under the waistband of his boxers, the somewhat ache in his crotch seeping through the thick layer of sleep he was in.

He hears shuffling under the covers, suspecting what - or who - that could be, causing a smile to creep up his lips. He lifts his hips willingly for his shorts to be pulled down, just for his cock to be taken hold of by two soft, warm little hands.

And then, what he didn’t expect but hoped for - silky, warmth and wetness all wrapped around his tip as the lips are wrapped around him.

She was determined to make Joris’ birthday as special as it can be, hence she started by giving him head. “Holy shit, baby,” Joris’ voice is deep but there’s a hint of desperation in it as you give him head “Fuck you’re crazy today.”

“Just spoiling the birthday boy, amour,” Yn smiles at him, tapping his cock against her tongue and ensuring he watches while she does it.

“Je t’aime tellement chérie” he says with a breathy voice.

"Je t’aime aussi, bon anniversaire, mon amour!" Y/N exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Merci" Joris replied, returning the embrace as both of them lay on the bed entangled in each other. "Are you ready for today?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Absolutely," she replied with a smile. "Let's make it unforgettable."

They embarked on a day filled with Joris' favorite activities, from making the most of the sunny day and sailing on Charles’ yacht (which she had to plead him for but Charles after knowing it was for Joris’ bday couldn’t say no), to going shopping at his favorites boutiques and having lunch in the same restaurant they have being going since they can remember and whose owners know them as it’s a very small restaurant not in the most tourist zone of the principality and most of the clients are Monaco natives.

As evening descended upon Monaco, they made their way to a chic restaurant nestled in the heart of the city. The air buzzed with excitement as they took their seats, anticipation building in her for the surprise they had planned for Joris.

As the waiters dimmed the lights, Yn could hardly contain her excitement. She glanced at Charles, who winked in response, their plan about to unfold.

Suddenly, the room erupted into cheers as the waiters emerged, carrying a decadent birthday cake ablaze with candles. Joris' eyes widened in surprise, his laughter echoing through the restaurant as his friends surrounded him, sharing in the joy of the moment.

"Surprise!" they chorused as the waiters appeared carrying a birthday cake with candles and bengals.

"Joyeux anniversaire, Joris!" Y/N exclaimed, her heart swelling with happiness as she caught his delighted expression.

"Merci, merci à tous!" Joris exclaimed, his eyes shining with gratitude.

They savored the exquisite meal, sharing stories and laughter late into the night. With each toast and shared moment, Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment wash over her. These were the memories she cherished most—moments of pure joy spent with the ones she loved.

As the clock struck midnight, they bid farewell to the restaurant and ventured into the lively streets of Monaco. The club was already alive with the sounds of laughter and music as they stepped inside, the neon lights casting an electric glow over the dance floor.

"Let's make this a night to remember!" Charles shouted over the music, his voice filled with excitement.

Y/N laughed, feeling the rhythm of the music coursing through her veins. This was home—surrounded by loved ones, lost in the magic of the moment. As she glanced at Joris, his smile illuminated by the neon lights, she knew that this birthday would be one they'd never forget, knowing that as she saw Joris’ very happy face as he conversed with Charles and their friends in their booth.

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie@tesi1

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princessconsuela120 · 11 months

Text

☁ FEARLESS ☁

— ☁

Summary: as the Curtis sister its practically known that you're off limits. However, Dallas Winston was never one to follow rules. Or in which your brother gave you a strict set of rules to stay alive in Tulsa, and you have done amazingly well at breaking all of them.

Warnings: I guess angst? Cursing

Author’s Note: rekindling my love for the Outsiders recently so if any has any other requests send them in!

— ☁

IT WAS ALWAYS A MATTER OF PRIDE WHEN IT CAME TO YOUR BROTHERS. You weren't too fond of that fact that you have been single for the past 16 years of your life was something they were proud of. They were your protectors, and it seemed as if all of Tulsa was aware of that. Though your oldest brother, Darry, would never fail to remind you that these were your wishes. Of course, the wishes you made when you were 9 and didn't know there were boys who existed besides your brothers. Ever since your parents passed, your oldest brother Darry was pretty much your dad. He was doing the best he could, and you knew that, but he couldn’t help but be protective as he is, now that his baby sister is all grown up. Now you were far from being a baby, which is were the Curtis brothers long list of rules came in.

number 1 - NEVER walk anywhere alone; there are thousands of greasers in this town, you are bound to find at least one who will take you home.

Now, this rule was ultimately demolished one day you failed to find someone to walk you, and had single handed lay taken down five socs alone with your switch blade. This seemed to scare your brothers more than the socs you took down, and ultimately the rule was no longer there to be followed.

number 2 - curfew is 9:00 no later.

though you would always argue with Darry, in a town as dangerous as Tulsa was for us greasers, 9:00 was a reasonable curfew. But, this rule was ultimately outlawed the second you start your new job at the Dairy Queen, where for whatever reason you wouldn’t arrive home from your shift until after 10:00. Now this was ruled by Sodapop as strictly for your job, but Darry seemed to know better. Turns out your shift at the Dairy Queen ended at 8:30, which only peaked your brother curiosity as to where the hell you could have been for the hour and a half that followed.

number 3 - always wear your helmet while riding you bike birdie, I can’t believe I even have to tell you that.

Though Darry was reluctant to even make this one a rule, seeing as it should be common sense, after a near death motorcycle accident, it seemed important enough to mention. Sometimes having a rebellious sister was fun for the boys, and other times it ended in nights in the hospital due to motorcycle accidents. What can you say, you liked the way your hair blew in the wind, and absolutely hated helmet hair.

number 4 - whenever you are home alone all doors and windows must be locked and shut.

the boys always tried to do everything in their power to make sure you weren’t ever home alone, but there were circumstances that couldn’t be avoided. Like when pony boy had school, and everyone else was working. Like Sodapop you had also dropped out of school early, to save the money. Now, if it ever happened you were home alone, let’s just say you found a way to not be.

number 5 - no pets, you can barely take care of yourself.

another obvious one in Darry’s opinion, and also Ponyboy’s least favorite rule. The two of you had been begging Darry to buy a pet for two years now, and every time the answer was the same. No. Sodapop was allergic to dogs, so that was ruled out, and you could barely take care of yourselves let alone a pet. However, after one particularly long ride on your motorcycle, you discover a tiny kitten who had been sneaking shelter in you bike’s motor. Something you had never seen before, and when you arrived home with the tiny blueish grey kitten, not even Darry had the heart to tell you to put it back. Harley, as you decided to name him, for obvious reasons, had become your new best friend. He was practically attached to your side, and turns out taking care of him was easier than taking care of yourself.

number 6 - tell your brothers where you are going before you go out, so if anything happens we know where you are.

you had argued on many occasions that this one was a bit much. You were 16, and perfectly trustworthy. There was no reason why Darry had to know where you were at all times, in a town that you could yell in the center and be heard in every corner. Now, seeing as phones weren’t as accessible as Darry had hoped, this rule was quickly abolished when you had gained a habit of taking Ponyboy out for rides on your bike, which never consisted of specific locations to track.

number 7 - no sneaking out, once you are in for the night you’re in.

Even though your room was your favorite place in the world, you couldn’t help but have a rebellious heart like the other greasers. With a curfew of 9:00, and daylight savings where the sun was still out and you weren’t, you started a habit of watching the sunset. Now, you had a rule for this and your brother didn’t. It was ruled unfair by yourself, when both you and Ponyboy started getting caught together, sneaking out to two completely different places. Poor Darry was bound to get a heart attack from you two.

number 8 - nothing illegal, this should be a rule of life not of the house, but if you go to jail I will personally lecture you myself.

Now, this one was a special occasion rule, added after a particular series of events. It was your first time ever doing anything illegal, and of course you got caught. Even though you had your best interest at heart, the police didn’t see it that way. It was your’s and Soda’s birthday, and you felt awful that the poor guy had to work. So you went to the store, and looked around for a record to buy as his present. Stevie Wonder, you and Soda’s artist, he pretty much represented your relationship with him. But when the time came, you realized you didn’t have nearly enough money to buy it. So you tried to sneak it out of the store. Of course, hiding a record that was wider than you under your shirt isn’t the best idea.

number 9 - keep your distance from the socs, we have enough beef with them, they would love to get their hands on the Curtis sister.

This rule was a follow up rule of almost every rule before it. The Socs were the center of all evil, and it was almost impossible to avoid them. It became its own separate rule after a particularly difficult run in. You tried, you really did, but it just wasn’t a fair fight. 6 against one, and you had left your blade at home. Two-Bit had found you while he was walking home the next morning, your brothers hearts each broke when they saw how beaten up you were. Darry wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at himself. So he made it a new rule.

number 10 - no rumbles, I don’t need any broken bones.

as a greaser, rumbles were basically inevitable, it was a part of life. Knowing you, you loved to give your brothers heart-attacks, and a rumble was no different. Every rumble before this one was fine, but this was a particularly rough patch. Everything was fine, and fair, and good. Until the damned Soc pulled a knife on you. Cut up y the bridge of your nose so bad, it left you with a nasty scar between your eyes. You loved it though, though it made you look tough. Darry however hated it, it was just a reminder that you weren’t as tough as you convinced him you were.

number 11 - no, and I mean absolutely no boys. You have three brothers right here at home and enough boys in the gang to be your family. You’re too young for a boy who will just take advantage of my beautiful baby sister anyway.

this was the important one. All other rules held less importance than this one. This is the ultimate, final rule. For as long as you were brown, Darry had made a promise, to himself and to you. He would protect you, and care for you, and never let anything hurt you. Now if that meant you would be mad at him for it for your entire high school life, he was fine with it, as long as he protected you. Now, the entire gang knew this rule and helped you to follow it. But we all know how Dallas Winston feels about rules.

#dallas winston x reader #outsiders x reader #the outsiders #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #ponyboy Curtis x reader #Curtis reader

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hyunsvngs · 8 months

Note

I just read the fem skz slumber party fic! It was so so good!! Thank you for recommending it!!

Oh oh what about helping the boys through their ruts/ heats for the first time?? Who do you think would go absolutely feral and who would still be gentle...also the breeding!?....I need to chill

-🦇

AWWW NO ITS ONE OF MY FAVES IM GLAD U LOVED IT!! ANYWAY HERE ISSSS… helping the boys through their ruts/heats! i obviously didnt do the betas (changbin, seungmin, hyunjin) so these r just our alphas & omegas <3 also!! CW for pegging&rimming in jisung & felix’s if youre not into that<3

chan: alpha

your nose twitched when you inhaled at the front door. the smell of the beach, ocean breeze, warm and comforting filled your senses - it was so strong. changbin confirmed your suspicions when he opened the door. “it’s bad.”

“okay,” you nodded, making your way into the house. it was clean. weirdly clean, you thought. “who cleaned?”

“jisung. nerves, i don’t know. probably an omega thing.” you blinked, nodding, before you started to walk over to chan’s room. what you were met with was not an unpleasant sight.

chan, fully naked. his body was covered with a sheen of sweat, glistening off of his abdominal muscles and his pecs. you wanted to lick it up. his hand was pumping steadily at his cock, a pool of cum already on his tummy - but he wasn’t stopping. you could see his knot, engorged and wanting to pop. it obviously had nothing to pop in yet, but you were there now, his loyal omega girlfriend.

his head snapped to the door when you entered, even though you’d tried to open and shut the door quietly. he looked about two seconds away from growling, but instead, he just clenched the base of his cock sharply.

“fuck, baby. get over here. i’m gonna cum and i need to pop my knot inside that pussy,” he grumbled, a low gravelly tone. the sweat had mussed his hair so it was curly, dark against his forehead. you nodded, shocked, before quickly shucking off your clothes and getting onto the bed. always considerate, he flipped you over, wrapping your legs around his waist so it wasn’t uncomfortable when you were locked together. without a second passing, he pushed inside of you.

“oh, channie, that’s big,” you crooned, head falling back against the pillows. chan was quick to start fucking into you, a feverish pace that set your senses on fire. omega slick was a blessing at that point - honestly, you’d been slicking up since you smelled him by the door. he needed help more than you did though. “alpha! oh, god, daddy, are you gonna fuck a pup into me?”

chan groaned, his sweaty forehead resting against yours. his eyes were clenched shut but he managed to nod, breaths fanning over your mouth. “yeah, omega. ‘m gonna- f- fuck, i’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up, fuck. you gotta cum too, you gotta-“

“baby, focus on you for now, okay?” chan looked hesitant but nodded anyway, his pace becoming stuttered as he got closer to the edge.

“o-okay, but then i gotta eat you out when my knot breaks.”

“deal.”

minho: alpha

you squeaked when you opened your front door. your boyfriend was standing there, hair messy and chest heaving from his panting. the smell of chocolate was so, so thick, almost sickly, and he was staring at you with dark eyes.

oh. he’s in rut.

“oh. oh, baby, did you run here?” you asked, eyes soft as you rake over his body. not only were you concerned that he ran all the way to your house, you were also concerned that he ran all the way to your house with a massive bulge in his trousers from his erection.

“i… i need you,” he admitted, eyes falling to the floor. “i’m sorry. me coming here must have surprised you, but i’m in rut. and i know we said we should do it separately, just for a while, but i-“

“get in, dumbass,” you quipped, yanking him in by his wrist. he’s in shorts and a t-shirt, which should’ve been the first clue. it was autumn, and he was running very hot by the feeling of his bare skin in your hand. “fuck me. it’ll make you feel better, and i’m your girlfriend, min. it’s really okay.”

“but i might-“

“ssh,” you kissed his lips, and he sighed. “i don’t care if you get a little crazy. bite me, claim me. i’m in this for the long run.”

that’s how you ended up on all fours on the floor of your living room, only a pillow underneath your knees for comfort. minho was pounding into you, having already knotted you once he clearly needed more. you pushed your ass onto him, bouncing against his cock.

“that’s it, little omega,” he groans, both hands slapping your asscheeks. “fuck back on my cock like that. gonna knot you again, fill you up, make you a mommy.”

“oh, yes,” you whined, head falling to the floor. “make me a mommy, min, breed me, fuck-“

“i’m gonna make you a fucking mommy, filthy girl. gonna give you pups, yeah?”

jisung: omega

“i wan’ the big one,” jisung whined, making grabby hands at you. you were picking which knotting dildo to strap to yourself and fuck him with, and of course, your cute little in-heat boyfriend wanted the huge one. you couldn’t even take this one on a good day, but jisung had been fingered open by both himself and you and so you shrugged, strapping it onto your harness. when you got back on the bed, he’d contortioned himself onto his back with his legs held up by his hands. he looked at you with teary eyes, yet still a big, stupid grin on his face. “mm, yeah, mommy. gimme your big cock.”

“slut,” you mused, affectionately dragging your hand up his thigh. you used his own slick to glide up the strapon, before you were pressing it into his hole. his jaw dropped immediately, letting you stretch him nice and wide. his eyes were now fond, affectionate as he let you pick your own pace. you, of course, chose slow and deep. “look at your hole, taking all of this. ‘s so cute, hannie.”

“big, big, oh- oh, mommy, breed me,” he blurted, head falling back against the pillows. his cock was leaky, dripping out onto his stomach from beneath his foreskin and his balls looking tight and full. you squeezed one in your hand experimentally, and his back arched, a choked moan falling out from his lips. “mommy!”

“you want mommy to breed you, baby?” you hummed, kissing his pouty lips. he moaned into the kiss, nodding eagerly and making the kiss way more sloppy than intended. “should mommy go faster? gotta make her omega cum before i fill him up, right?”

“oh! oh, yes, mommy! please, faster, faster-“

“alright, slut. i got you,” you giggled, before you started to pick up the pace. his eyes rolled back into his head feeling you drill into his prostate, and he let out a loud moan that reverberated off the walls. everything in the room smelled of citrus.

“love you, mommy,” he mumbled, lost in ecstasy. you smiled, pecking his nose. “always helpin’ me with my heat.”

“love you too, baby.”

felix: omega

“ah, shit! that’s it,” felix whined, his head lolling over the end of the sofa. your tongue swept up the slick on his asshole, just delving in slightly before sloppily kissing down to his balls. felix groaned a deep noise when you licked over his balls, his thighs clenching. honestly, omega slick didn’t do much for you since you were an omega too, but you could still taste felix’s signature cinnamon sent in it.

you licked your lips when you pulled away, rubbing a thumb over his tight hole. “you want more, lixie?”

“yes! yes, fingers, and then- i want the toy after, please, please,” he was babbling, hips grinding down into the leather of the sofa. you giggled, before you slid two fingers into him at once, curling against his prostate. he jolted, a sharp inhale of breath being heard around the room. “mm, mm, c’mere, got an idea.”

you shifted over to let him pull you underneath him, your fingers still deep in his ass. with a quick move he was sliding your underwear down and positioning his cock at your entrance.

“lixie…?”

“‘s- i gotta. i can fucking smell you, and i have to. keep fingering me, precious,” he breached your hole in one go. you were honestly almost as wet as him just from getting your tongue and fingers on him, and the stretch was a welcome one. “ah- ah, yeah, shit. n-needed that.”

when he started to move his hips, he quickly noticed that he was riding your fingers as well as fucking into you. your whines joined the room along with his deep groans. he was feeling just so good, so full, so content.

jeongin: alpha

jeongin had only had a few ruts alone before you, and there he was - fucking into you without abandon while seungmin was literally in the next room. he didn’t even seem to care.

“‘s- oh, gotta- just a bit deeper, i gotta get it deeper so it takes, y’know?” jeongin was whiny and talkative during a rut, you noticed. you obeyed his wishes anyway, pulling your legs up to your chest and letting him fuck into you deeper this time. the sensation had your eyes rolling back into your head, but you still had enough wits about you to tease him.

“for what to take, alpha?” you croon. jeongin groans, his hand splayed next to your head. the bed itself was rocking, headboard crashing against the wall with a loud noise every single thrust. it had you whining even louder, just the thought of being caught. you knew jeongin got off on it too.

“for- for my pups to take, baby, shit- ‘m gonna knot you again,” jeongin admitted, and then he was laughing in disbelief. you giggled too, shaking your head fondly and brushing the hair back from his eyes. you didn’t miss him leaning his head into your touch.

“c’mon then, innie. breed your omega. i’ve been good, haven’t i?”

#juno’s asks ♡#🦇 anon 💌#JUNO TAKES A/B/O!#asks: ot8

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monstersandmaw · 2 years

Text

Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader - Part Five (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Oops, I tripped over all your lovely comments from the last chapter and fell face-first into some plot. Sorry. Thank you for the sweet things you’ve said so far though. You’re absolutely wonderful people. Things move on a bit more in the next chapter, but there’s a reveal some of you have been waiting for in this one...

Aaaaand as I’ve said at the start of all of these chapters, this is NOT a yautja fanfic. Yes, they’re basically yautja to look at, but otherwise they’re just aliens I’ve made up that are inspired by all things predator. Don’t @ me with ‘corrections’ to the ‘lore’ - it’s my sandbox. I’m just making stuff up as usual.

Content: a bit of lore about Big Red and Croc’s species, a bit more about the aliens they’re hunting, and that reveal... Wordcount: 4804

Catch up here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw)

The storm seemed to have cleared hours ago, and since the crashing of the ship had probably cleared all of the most vulnerable branches already, there was hardly any debris on the ground. A circle of bright blue sky showed above the pines, and the air that hit your lungs was fresh and clear and cold.

The clearing was muddy though, and at the centre of it like a little troll-mound in a mire, sat your faithful, military issue tent with a single golden leaf resting atop it like a rosette. “I’d give you Best in Show,” you muttered fondly to the sturdy canvas as you unzipped it, grateful that your field training had covered how to pitch a tent securely, even if you hadn’t needed any of the other things like basic weapons handling in the end. The loaded tranquiliser gun had remained securely in its holster inside the tent since your first night, and you hadn’t even had to unsheathe the machete for firewood, let alone for self-defence.

Croc was nowhere to be seen, and the clearing was otherwise silent. Big Red had remained behind in the crashed ship, tinkering with something in the crumpled bridge and comms area near the nose of the once ‘arrowhead shaped’ ship, and you left him there in case your awkward moment truly had made him uncomfortable. The memory of his hands on your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around you, the tease of his mandibles over your hair, the rumble of his breath, the solid presence of him pressed behind you in the dark… all of it swirled through you in a never-ending kaleidoscope of sense memories and you struggled to pull yourself back together.

When you’d been told to get close to the aliens, you were pretty sure that that mandate had not extended to sharing a bed with one of them and developing a sizable crush on him.

“Fuck.”

The idea of having to leave the next day made your stomach writhe, and the mood that morning in the camp was sombre. You had absolutely no intention of baring yourself to that frigid stream again so soon, so in the privacy of your tent, you freshened up with a few face wipes and mulled over everything you’d learned and everything that had happened.

During the course of the morning, Croc and Red continued to work together to pile up and sort out all the salvaged material from their ship, and while they worked, they chittered and clicked back and forth in quiet, private conversation. Croc, despite the loss of his entire left arm from the bicep down, barely seemed inconvenienced by it, and you marvelled again at the resilience of the species.

Sitting on a spare crate in the autumn sun, you took the opportunity to type up a load of notes on what you’d discovered of their species, and what they’d told you about their enemy here on Earth. The higher-ups would be particularly interested in that, you figured, so you made sure to get the details down as accurately as possible. The creatures were apparently highly aggressive, intelligent — though not as smart as their hunters or as humans — and their best guess at how they’d spread so very long ago was in the cargo bay of a mining ship that had travelled to one of the asteroids that the inhabitants of Secundus had once mined for ores and minerals. Much more recently, a rare swarm of hatchlings had decimated what Croc had called a ‘waystation’ — some kind of space hub — and had probably then hitch-hiked unnoticed on a scientific ship that had landed on Earth some ten years ago. Luckily, the creatures were relatively slow to reproduce, otherwise Earth could have been overrun before the hunters had even thought to check on it again.

“They’re not going to be pleased to know that your kind is responsible for them being here,” you muttered as you finished off another page.

Croc and Red shared a look, and Red nodded. “We have no solid proof that that’s how it happened. It is just a theory, but it’s why the High Council proposed that we extend aid to your planet in hunting them. So far, humans have reacted to our presence with… aggression, and it has been difficult to establish a stable contact between our species.”

“Until now,” you murmured, and they both nodded again. “You want me to take any particular message back then?” You doubted they were going to leave you with a direct number to call that led straight to this High Council, but it might represent the start of communications between species.

Big Red’s ship apparently had just such a communication stored in its data systems, but you had no way of transferring it to your phone. Human technology was apparently more ‘primitive’ than they’d anticipated, and it seemed like trying to copy a file from the cloud direct to a floppy disc. “I can play the audio from this —” he said, indicating his vambrace, “—and you can… record it,” he said with a nod at your phone. He regarded it like it was a fucking clay tablet, and you didn’t have the energy to argue with an alien over technology. Linguistics and communication was your strong suit, not tech.

“That should work,” you said. “Let’s try it.”

The quality of the audio was more than good enough, so you sat there and listened to it play out while he held his vambrace near enough to your phone that you could have reached out and touched his arm. The urge to do it — to let your fingers play over the textured marks, like cooling magma, on his shoulder and down his muscular arm towards his thick wrist — was enough to make your skin prickle. Instead, you focused on the words of the alien who was speaking on the recording.

“I am the Elder of the High Council,” the deep voice said, and you mouthed ‘female?’ at Red, who nodded. “You are receiving this communication because we have evidence that a dangerous, non-native, predatory creature has been sighted on your planet, and we wish to offer our assistance in exterminating it. For generations, we have hunted these creatures across space, and they are not easily defeated. Their saliva is corrosive, their venom lethal to almost every known species, their reactions are far quicker than even the fastest of your species can see, their stamina is unmatched by beast or machine, and their cruelty and delight in killing exceeds that of even the most dishonourable beings of the Great Species.”

At those last words, your brows pulled into a frown but Red shook his head to stop you interrupting with yet another question. Trusting that he would explain once you’d finished recording the audio, you sat tight and let it play out.

“We wish to send envoys to work with your people to eradicate these creatures before they take hold in your ecosystems. They cannot be destroyed by radiation. They cannot be poisoned or trapped. They can only be killed by the most skilled of warriors with the truest of aim and the deadliest weapons. The metals and alloys you currently use are insufficient to cause fatal damage to them. We will share our technology with you as a means of exterminating them. In return, we would ask that you cease hostile activities towards our ships and our people, release those you have captured, and return the bodies of those you have slain and stolen to desecrate by primitive investigative procedures. Allow our few fallen warriors the honour of a return to the elements, and we will assist you against this threat that will surely destroy you if you leave it unchecked. Send your response via any of the Ambassadors we have sent to your planet.”

You noted she didn't say that the creatures had thumbed a ride on one of their own spaceships, but you could see why she’d left that out. No need to antagonise the humans any more than necessary to start with. When Big Red tapped his vambrace and the recording fell silent, you stared at him for a long moment, questions spinning through your mind like dry autumn leaves.

“Great Species?” you asked, picking one at random as it swirled past.

Red jabbed his thumb absently against his chest. “We are one of five Great Species so far discovered that have intelligence that matches or exceeds our own. Your kind is one of them.”

“Oh,” you exhaled, then, “Five?”

“The other three have expressed little interest in humans, believing you primitive and unworthy of inclusion. You have barely begun to explore space while we have been travelling between systems for thousands of years already.”

“Right,” you exhaled. Fuck. “‘Ambassadors’?”

“Those of us who have come to your planet,” he explained. “There is a mothership waiting beyond your detection, but our… ‘commander’—” he said for want of a better translation, “— has sent down very few ships to the surface so far. We do not wish to overwhelm…” he said dryly. He waited while you let it all sink in, with his shoulders hunched and his mandibles soft around his jaw. It was a lot.

“You know the scientists back at base are going to kill me for not getting, like, tissue samples and blood work from you two. I haven’t even got a photo.”

Big Red cocked his head, and Croc looked up from where he’d been studying the screen on his own vambrace which he’d propped up on a crate instead of on his arm, presumably because it was designed to sit on his left arm, which he no longer had. “I’m not giving you any samples,” he grinned with a lascivious flare of his mouth that was oddly suggestive of a waggle of a human’s eyebrows, “And the Boss won’t either if he knows what’s good for him…” he added pointedly, “But you could take a photograph.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” you asked, looking back to Red.

He snorted and shook his head. “A few still images are not going to give away the secrets of our entire species. And we have hours of footage of you already,” he added, indicating his vambrace. “Anything my mask has seen of you is stored here.”

“Oh. That’s…” You weren’t sure exactly how you felt about that, but you figured if you were going to learn about each other, you’d both need some kind of data. “If I asked you to get rid of it, would you?”

They exchanged a look, and Red nodded slowly. Croc hissed at him, but Big Red stood firm and clicked his mandibles into a retort, at which Croc backed down, though only reluctantly. “Yes,” Red told you. “I would remove it.”

“Even if it meant disobeying direct orders,” Croc muttered as he got to his feet and stalked off in the direction of the ship.

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly. “You can keep it. I trust you. So long as you didn’t record me naked in the stream…”

“I already removed that,” Big Red said carefully. “I had it set to thermal imaging, but you were hardly visible anyway because the water was so cold.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you puffed the air out of your lungs and laughed quietly. “Ok… Well, thank you.” Then you asked about something that had snagged your attention and stuck there like a burr since you’d heard it. “Red, what did she mean when she talked about releasing captives and returning bodies?”

At that, Big Red tensed. “Surely you know?” he asked in a whisper.

Shaking your head, you stared between Red nearby and Croc beside the ship. “Know what? Secret government experiments on aliens is for tinfoil hat conspiracy theorists… right?”

He didn’t look like he’d understood any of that, but he said after a moment, “Not all of us who came to Earth have left again afterwards. In five years, several of your countries… have managed to take warriors before we could initiate our… self-destruct function here,” he said with another wiggle of his vambrace. “Two have been captured alive, and at least six of our fallen… have not been accounted for.”

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling sick. Of course governments were studying them. God, you were naive to have thought otherwise even for a second, and another question left your lips before you could stop it. “Do you know which countries? Which… governments?”

He nodded.

“Ours?”

Again, he nodded. “Yours has two fallen and one living warrior that we know of.”

“Shit.” You swallowed and then reached for his arm at last, squeezing his hard muscles as tightly as you could. “Red, I don’t know how much I can help, but I swear I’ll do what I can to get them safely back to you. I swear it.”

With a soft, crooning chitter, he raised his other hand and cupped your face with his huge, rough palm. The pads of his fingers against your skin were textured like tiny ripples in the sand. His touch was careful and gentle, and he cradled your jaw and stroked his thumb across your cheek with a tenderness that left you aching inside and out as he keened softly and purred.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into the contact unconsciously.

When Big Red spoke next, his voice was low and gravelly, and the clicking of his tusks over the words made something spark deep inside you. “You are kind, and honourable. I… believe you will do as you say.”

“I will, Red,” you growled. “I promise.”

Even Croc, who was quick to crack a crass joke when things got heavy, stood and watched you for a long time before gently clicking something at his boss, who laughed quietly, almost sadly, and nodded. He stood and said, “Come. Take your photograph?”

It took a moment for you to gather yourself after such an open display of tenderness, but when you had rallied, you asked them to stand in front of the hole in the ship, side by side beneath the tarpaulin. They did, and after you’d taken one or two with them just standing there, Croc suddenly wrapped his arm around Big Red’s waist, pulled him close, opened his mandibles wide, and stuck his long, dark green tongue under the edge of Red’s mask.

Somehow you captured the exact moment his tongue touched Big Red, and you kept clicking as Red rounded on him in surprised disgust, looming right over him with his own mouth flared wide. He kicked Croc’s knees out from under him and Croc went down like a felled tree, though you could see that Red made sure he landed on his good side.

“You can’t even stand for a photo without causing trouble, Croc!” you called and he raised his head to look up at you, then flared his mouth with a horrible shriek, and collapsed theatrically back down to spread-eagle himself on the ground like he was making a snow angel. Luckily the rain hadn’t touched that part of the clearing because of the tarpaulin overhead and the way the ground sloped away from the ship, and when Big Red had hauled Croc back up to his feet, he brushed pine needles from his friend’s mottled back and thick ‘braids’, slapping him once on the backside a little too hard.

Croc snickered something in Red’s direction that sounded like the universal ‘I’ll get you for that later’. Big Red just shook his head, the motion making his long, thin ‘braids’ sway across the bare, ochre and black skin of his broad, muscular back. It struck you yet again how beautiful you found him, and you swallowed thickly as a choking mix of disappointment and anxiety boiled up your throat and threatened to smother you. You wanted to stay here in the woods with them just a few days longer, but it was simply impossible. You were almost out of food for one, and for another, their rescuers would arrive the following day.

As perceptive as ever, the two friends both paused as one and looked at you, quirking their heads in perfect synchrony to one side. It was so sweet you almost cried. “It’s nothing,” you croaked and turned back to your crate to continue making notes. “Thank you for the photos.” And for the best few days of my life.

Your emotions began to settle somewhat as the day wore on, and sometime in the late afternoon, Croc came over and startled the life out of you by tapping you on the arm with the back of his right hand. You looked up sheepishly from your work and smiled at him, and he cocked his head to the side. “You did not hear me? I called your name.”

“Sorry,” you said, closing the app and locking your phone. “I can get kind of lost in what I’m doing. Did you want something?”

“Come and join us again?” He looked over his shoulder and you discovered that they’d rekindled the little campfire, and Red was now sitting on a metal crate, cleaning a rifle that matched the blaster that Croc had serviced the previous day.

His focus seemed completely locked into the task and you smiled. “Looks like I’m not the only one who gets fixated on something,” you muttered and Croc grinned with his mouth flared wide again to reveal the pinkish, inner flesh of the stretching membrane between the mandibles. It looked so delicate, so at odds with the rest of his tough, solid body.

Staring at Big Red while he worked, you found another question crystallising on your tongue. “You said that you and Red are from different planets,” you began quietly. “Are you different species too? You’re just so different, that’s all,” you added to try and clarify a little.

“Yes,” he said. “We are different. Boss’ — Big Red’s — kind are very rare.”

“He said he comes from a desert environment…”

Croc inclined his head and crouched down beside you so that you didn’t have to crick your neck up to look at him from your crate. “Yes. Most of our kind who live on Secundus left the desert generations ago. Not many can survive those conditions now. The light is too strong for our eyes.”

“Is that why he wears a mask that covers them?”

“Yes,” he said, continuing in his faltering way as he struggled to articulate the human speech around his delicate mandibles. He was already much more fluent than he had been just a day or so ago though. “They hunt at night, so their heat-sensing abilities… are much more accurate than ours… but their ability to detect the rest of the spectrum… is poor. Boss is also shy about his face though,” he added with a snickering chitter of his mandibles.

“He is? Why? You’re not…” you said, indicating his spiny, mottled face looking up at you mere feet from your own.

“Desert species are tough and ugly,” Croc said matter-of-factly. “That’s why no one wants to breed with them, and why no one wants to see what’s under their masks,” he went on, and when your face showed open shock at his callous tone, he laughed. “I like him,” he said in the same way that someone might say ‘the face only a mother could love’, “But even the humans we’ve met before think he’s ugly. To be fair, they said the same… of me too,” he added, scowling as though their judgement was very poor indeed for that.

“You’ve met humans before?” you asked, gears spinning.

He nodded. “They did not speak your language, but I had learned theirs. We came to this part of the world afterwards to study the differences.”

“So you’re like a science mission?” Like Star Trek, you mused, but didn’t say it.

Croc clicked out the sequence of sounds that made up the name of their fallen squad-mate, and then continued, “— was what you’d call the scientist... He had only a little combat training. Always a very bad fighter… We were to protect him while he studied the humans in these parts.”

You got the impression that actually all three of them had been an odd bunch of misfits, like nerds in the school yard, and it endeared them to you even more. Croc clearly missed his fallen lover dearly, though he was keeping his grief private. “But there are no humans in these parts,” you croaked, chest aching for them and the loss of their friend.

At that, Croc scoffed loudly enough that Red paused in his work at last and looked up. You both glanced over at him but he soon dipped his attention back down to the blaster. “We didn’t mean to stop here,” he said with exasperation in his rough, rasping voice. “One of your missiles got a lucky shot… hit us over the ocean and… we came down here…”

You stayed quiet, still mentally scrambling in silence.

Red didn’t want to show you his face because the last human who had seen it had thought him hideous, and even his own kind found him unattractive. He was gorgeous though, in his rough-hewn, primal way, and he had been so tender and so kind to you ever since that single display of strength when he’d thought you a threat to his squad-mate. How could anyone find him unattractive?

Setting your phone down on the crate, you stood and reached for Croc’s shoulder while he was still crouched — the one that wasn’t still healing — and you squeezed his neck gently. “Thanks, Croc. I’m so sorry about your squad mate. Red told me you were all… close; that you grew up together.”

He chuffed something and nuzzled his cheek affectionately against your arm.

The moment passed and you strode determinedly over to Red, who was deliberately not looking in your direction. He was also very obviously done with the rifle, though he still fiddled and futzed about with it. “Mind if I join you?”

He shook his head and you plonked yourself down beside him on the spare box where Croc had been sitting, and looked across at the vambrace that covered Red’s left wrist. He tracked your gaze and then looked away again. After a while, when he showed no sign of starting up a conversation, you brought your fingertips to the cold metal and ran them along the border of the small, dark screen. It flared to life, showing the red, cuneiform markings of their language, and you paused.

“What else does this do?” you asked, thinking back to the recording it had played a few hours earlier.

He did look at you then and opened his mandibles a little in a gesture that you’d come to associate with a human’s eyebrow raise: softly amused surprise. “It… It interfaces with our helmets…” he said, and when you looked expectantly at him, he sighed and tapped it. “This is the control for some of our weapons guidance systems. This,” he said, tapping it a few more times with his black-clawed finger to make a different series of marks appear on the screen, “Changes the… the ‘projection’… that the mask shows me. It will play back footage, or show me different wavelengths in real time.”

You nodded slowly. “So when you showed me that scene of the enemy in the jungle… you chose wavelengths that I could make sense of?” Your tongue stalled at the memory of that creepy, black outline in the trees and the violent delight it had taken in stabbing one of Big Red’s kind to death in the forest of Prime. “That wasn’t how you saw it at the time?”

He inclined his head. “Exactly.”

“Could you show me how you see the world? With the mask, I mean?”

Big Red went very still, and for a moment you thought you’d pushed it too far, but then he said, “Close your eyes.”

You obeyed, and a few seconds later, the vaguely familiar feel of the mask pressed against your face. It obviously didn't fit you the way it did him, but your skin still tingled, and even though your eyes remained shut, an image showed before you and you gasped.

It was Red, but not as you recognised him.

The thermal imaging rendered the outlines and details of his body blurred, like a painting in mostly primary colours, and after holding up your own arm for reference — appearing in bright orange and yellows — you looked across to study him properly. His ‘dreads’ were a cool blue, and his indistinct face was a mix of greens, yellows, and blues, with deep eye sockets and a much narrower skull than Croc. The white points of his eyes in the blue of the sockets were the warmest part of him.

You looked in open fascination until he raised his arm and held out his hand, clearly demanding it back, and you let him draw the mask off you, all with your eyes still closed. After all, he’d allowed you the same courtesy when you’d felt vulnerable and naked in the waterfall. Was this really so different?

He purred something when he clearly discovered that you were still not looking directly at him, and he surprised you by trailing his knuckles sweetly along your jawline from the hinge near your ear down to your chin. “You can look,” he rasped.

Opening your eyes slowly, you discovered that he had not replaced the mask.

Your jaw slackened and your breath caught at your first proper sight of him.

Calling him ‘Red’ was even more fitting than you’d first thought now that you could actually see his face. He had a thick, softly-blurred, crimson stripe down the centre of his large, brown and ochre head, and a series of horizontal, ripple-like patterns led down like the rungs of a ladder between his deep-set eyes to the pits above his mouth that looked like nostrils. His lips were non-existent — any flesh there was pulled back by the way his mandibles sat neatly on either side of his narrow jaws to expose his bony, pink gums. Four chunky, jagged teeth that looked perfect for ripping out throats whole lined the front of his upper and lower jaws.

His eyes, rimmed with delicate, black skin that was vaguely reminiscent of smudged eyeliner, were small, tapered, and almond-shaped, but they sat angled in his skull so that they were almost vertical where a human’s were horizontal, and his irises were a gorgeous, magma orange with a small, black pupil and the hint of black sclera around the edges. He stared at you, unblinking, while you drank in the sight of him with your lips softly parted. Occasionally, his mandibles twitched, reminding you of a human nervously chewing on their lips.

“Red,” you breathed. “You’re… stunning.”

His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow pants, and his wheezy way of breathing felt tighter and more apprehensive. He kept his body tense and still, as though expecting a blow he didn't intend to fend off.

“Croc —” you cleared the lump out of your throat and started again. “Croc said it’s an honour to see one of you without a mask,” you said carefully.

Big Red still didn’t move.

“Thank you, Red.”

Finally, he gave a huge, rolling sigh. The tension drained from him, and he shook his head slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just done. Slowly, he replaced the mask over his face. “Now you know,” he said.

You frowned.

He sounded dejected.

He sounded like he regretted showing you his face.

You reached quickly for his left forearm and squeezed the solid muscle. For the first time, you noticed that he had a black dew claw on his thick wrist, almost hidden by a little nick that had been styled out of the vambrace to accommodate it. Your thumb caressed the nail bed around the base of it and he shivered slightly. “Thank you, Red,” you said again as you released your hold on his arm. “Thank you for trusting me.”

With yet another sigh, he shook his head again and twittered his mandibles into a disbelieving little laugh. “You are strange… human,” he snorted, standing up abruptly.

“You’re not the first to say so,” you mumbled.

Sensing he needed space again, you fought down a tide of disappointment that he was leaving immediately, and stayed put beside the fire.

When you looked around, you discovered that Croc was watching you in perfect stillness on the other side of the clearing, his expression tense and unreadable.

Hope that wasn’t too boring and lore-heavy. Things move on a bit more with the next one, I promise. Thanks for sticking with it, and your comments/asks/reblogs/tags are giving me life at the moment, you have no idea.

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If you happen to have a couple of bucks spare, you could always drop a tip on my Ko-fi, but reblogs are just as welcome and just as helpful! I look forward to your reactions to this, and I hope you’re just as keen for part six!

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eshasunrise · 20 days

Text

Deepsea Glass

This is a pre-Splatoon fan fic that takes place in Alterna, days before its destruction.

Selena (Saline, moon) is an analogue for Marina

Kohime (little princess) is an analogue for Pearl

Inspired by the squid ink panels reflecting the desires of humanity.

Read below the cut.

Selena wanted to bash her head against the wall. She was the project lead in Alterna's delusional corporate suicide cult. Sorry, she meant 'Happiness Research Lab', a once important figure in maintaining Alterna's long-term survival, now a haven for madmen demanding humanity return to the irradiated, flooded surface.

Her job was to figure out the logistics of building, and launching, a rocket from deep beneath the sea and into the Earth's soil. Needless to say, all calculations show the probability of successfully launching a rocket deep underwater was literally, no smudging the numbers, 0%. And that's ignoring the readings showing that the surface is still flooded, irradiated, and over 15 degrees hotter than is ideal for agriculture, let alone maintaining human life. And THAT is ignoring the fact that the force of the rocket would fracture the stone of the cavern in which the population is maintained, assuming the psychic backlash of every neuroLCD panel suddenly exploding from energy overload wouldn't kill the population outright.

So obviously, the higher-ups appealed to reason. Or not. Instead, they scrapped the research to start building the rocket. Needless to say, it was now up to Selena to build an anti-gravity device which could withstand the water pressure while her roommate and boss, Kohime, tried desperately to get the company to stop.

It had barely been 60 years since Alterna was finished and colonized, and yet already people were demanding the impossible. Small crowds creating conspiracy theories about the land being just outside the walls, as opposed to the waterlogged crag of the flooded cavern that you can very clearly see if you just switched off one of the panels.

Selena needed a break. She decided, if her job wasn't going to listen to her findings, then she wasn't going to bother staying the full day. Clearly she wasn't alone in this thought, as when she approached the door, she caught her roommate standing outside on her phone. Selena's own phone pinged a notification right as she opened the glass door, greeting the shorter woman's slightly embarrassed face. That didn't last long however, as she begun to speak:

"Oh good. I just texted you." Kohime said. "You wanna head out early?"

"Absolutely." Replied Selena. She was glad that she was living with somebody who had some sense. The two of them grabbed a frozen tofu desert on the way home (most of the non-seafood was tofu, as it was one of the few crops to easily grow down here), and Kohime began to complain.

"Every day. Every goddamn day, these fucking bastards keep fucking ignoring me! 'Oh look, the princess is mad again' like, no shit? I'm trying to keep you alive! I don't care if the goddamn escapists are profitable, we aren't here to make a profit! We need to focus on the future! Making sure there's a planet to live on, not running to our death as fast as possible! What are we, fish to an angler?!"

Selena sighed in agreement. She had nothing to add, as everything she would say has already been said. Instead, she half-listened to her best friend's impatient ramblings while thinking of how to cheer her up later. There was that one project...

"Hey Kohime." Selena interjected. "You remember that old shark movie we watched the other day?"

"Oh yeah, Jaws, right? You wanna watch it again?" Kohime responded.

"We could, but first there's something I want to show you."

Kohime's attention was peaked right as they got home. From the table in the back, Selena grabbed an audio device.

"I came up with this song while thinking of that movie."

"Oh, fresh! Lemme hear!" Kohime slipped the speaker cuff over her left ear. From it emitted a steady, slightly modern approximation of the shrine music her grandmother would play for her. It was a curious sound, but she couldn't figure out what it had to do with...

"Wait a sec. The chorus, is that-?"

A slightly mischievous grin snuck up on Selena's face, "yup. That was made using the two note progression from the really tense scenes!"

Kohime's face lit up like the midday skylight. "That's hilarious AND awesome! Only you could come up with something so crazy, I love it!" A giggle pushes her face into childish glee, while Selena turned to grab something else, hiding her guilty smile.

It's been twelve years now, but she still couldn't get over that phrase from Kohime. 'I love'. It makes her uneasy every time.

"You wanna watch another movie?" Selena asked, "I found another Jaws movie, although I think it's the third one. Don't know if there's a two we're missing."

"Oh hell yeah! Pop it in!"

An hour later, and Selena was thoroughly bored. This was definitely a sequel to the first movie she saw, but it felt half-hearted and phony, like the corporate slogans she had to write for every apartment and street corner back at her old job.

"Are you watching this?" She asked the small woman beside her. No answer. Her roommate had fallen fast asleep, clearly as bored as she was, and had let her head fall against Selena's shoulder as she dozed.

Selena felt a pang in her chest. A muddy feeling that followed every bit of affection Kohime had given her. She stayed like this however, in part to let her old friend rest from the nightmarish days they've had, and in part for the comfort she has in knowing Kohime would always be beside her, ready to take on the world, which day by day became increasingly relevant.

Selena slowly nodded off herself.

That night, an exhausting dream filled her mind. In it, she was swimming up waterfall after waterfall. She strained against the crashing current, believing that soon, she would find rest. But no rest would come. At the final hurdle, the last jump, she dove straight into the maw of a hungry bear, wearing the Alterna logo on it's forehead, and announcing her retirement.

Selena woke with a start. It was midnight, and she felt dumb for being stressed about such a wild dream. She didn't question why she had it though. She had been working too hard for too little. The research she conducted, the machines she built, all wasted on projects that would kill her led by people who would never listen. She needed to quit. She could do so easily in fact. Sleeping in her lap, having moved herself in her sleep, was the very person she worked under. All she would have to do is wake her and tell her she couldn't work there anymore.

And leave Kohime to fight alone.

Selena let her head fall back onto the couch cushion. She would work tomorrow, if for no other reason than to ease her guilty conscience. To make sure some semblance of sanity stayed in this broken order, just because she knows Kohime would never stop fighting. She's always been bull-headed, and they needed that now more than ever.

"It's is time for your shift at the Happiness Research Facility, Citizen 2117: Assistant Director KOHIME.

It is time for your shift at the Happiness Research Facility, Citizen 2224: Project Manager SELENA.

Have a productive day."

Selena's second waking was a slow groggy ordeal. She had barely gotten back to sleep, and it feels like she just had that nightmare. Clearly some time has passed, as Kohime was sitting next to her. Unusually though, she wasn't dressed yet. Instead, she had an uncharacteristically uneasy glower in her face.

"Oh, you're up." Selena noted.

A long, heavy silence dulled the air at her voice. Kohime continued to stare, pressure rising from her sleep-matted hair. Eventually, she spoke:

"Selena."

At her word, a deafening pause filled the room.

"Do you ever feel like...something big is coming? Like..."

"The end of the world?" Selena finished her thought. "Of course. Every day. It bears down like an ocean of pressure every time I have to think about that goddamn rocket."

"Exactly!" The smaller woman replied "it all feels like we're marching into the end, all over some vague dream!" Tension filled her voice. She lacked energy, however. Selena took notice and pressed the back of her hand to Kohime's forehead.

"! W- what are you doing?" Kohime was flustered.

"You're overheated." Selena spoke.

"Well, that's 'cause you-"

"No, I mean actually" she wouldn't let Kohime finish. Now wasn't the time. "You're getting sick. R.C.A.?"

Selena called to the AI transcriber installed as living assistance. "Contact the HRF. We're taking today off."

"Very well." The voice responded.

Kohime protested: "No! Without us, who knows what those idiots will do?!"

Selena was worried of course, but she wasn't going to let her friend suffer. "How smart do you think they actually are. The lunatics wanna fire a rocket in a closed cave, through the ocean. You think they can think through the logistics without us?" She prattled, hoping she was right. It was her last hope at this point.

"..."

"Come on. You need to rest, and they'll never figure out how to actually build a rocket in the few days we'd be gone. Plus when we get back, you can rub the fact that you were right in their faces."

Kohime couldn't help but laugh at that. "As if. They're heads would be so far up their asses, they wouldn't be able to hear me." She joked, coughing near the end of her sentence.

Selena chuckled back, "in that case, I'll build you a megaphone. Nobody'd be able to ignore you then. Better yet, I'll build a bomb-"

"Okay, stop right there crazy lady. Don't give R.C.A. the wrong idea. Plus, that'd totally defeat the purpose of stopping the rocket in the first place."

The two joked like that for a few more minutes, until the tension left Kohime's shoulders, and she nodded off again.

It would take a week before Kohime would recover. The anxiety from the escape project pushing them to the boiling point. It was only at the end of that week when she had rested enough to feel like working again, and scheduled their shifts for the next day.

When Selena woke, from her bed this time, to the work day she'd been dreading, she noticed that Kohime had already left. Nothing unusual there. She was always a bit of a workaholic, and the praise helped feed her ego. Selena would finish her breakfast before heading out.

Upon opening the front door, however, she was blinded by a scorching white light. The skylight above them was in overdrive, forcing her eyes down. On the porch, collapsed to her knees, eyes wide despite the overbearing light above, was Kohime. Her face was filled with fear as defeat killed what little hope had remained.

Fearfully checking her friends help, Selena would follow her unbroken stare to the neuroLCD panel on the West edge. There, where once was the image of a field with sparse green trees, now stood the image of a white rocket ship, repeating down the walls. The grass, which once had a photo-like quality, now rustled as if blown by the wind. Sparse depictions of clouds were circling the blinding sun.

To any other, it would be an echo of their deep-seated desire to reach the upper world. To the two women here, however, it was a monument to their failure.

Selene rushed to the far moat, from the shore of which she grabbed a raft, unconcerned with ownership. Kohime followed behind, having barely broken from her stupor, and praying her closest could find a miracle. The datapad Selene brought was connected to a terminal on the wall. The screen behind it flickered off, exposing behind it the rocket they had lobbied so hard against, somehow completed.

Selene swallowed her fear as the datapad downloaded the Alterna Logs only people from the Happiness Research Facility has access to. The log read as follows:

HRFLog004.02: The Divide

As humanity began it's foolhardy errand to escape their salvation, a small group of resisters, lead by those scientists from the first generation, had resisted the change.

Amongst these were two high-ranking officials who had researched the surface, and concluded escape would doom humanity. These two would be the head speakers, and last bastions, of the Preservationists.

Rather than heed their warnings, those who profited from the Escapist movement would instead sabotage the resistance, slipping a mild poison into one researcher's water.

With the voice of opposition in recovery, the Preservationists were left without a rallying point, and a new fervor would grip the escapists. Thus, the rocket would be built in record time.

Awaiting further data.

Selena's heart dropped. A deep, fervent rage built in her heart. They had nearly killed her closest friend, over this pipe dream?! They would doom humanity for their pride?!

Her rage was interrupted, however, by a deafening scream of anguish. Having read the report on her own datapad, Kohime collapsed into a ball, shaking the raft beneath them. Selena steadied herself, then crouched to her friend.

"IT'S OVER. ITS THE END OF THE WORLD. WE'RE GONNA DIE..."

She was yelling, but a defeated misery filled her voice. She was not just screaming out of anguish, but because she couldn't find the strength to control her voice. Selena watched in pain as, for the second time ever, she watched her friend's heart break. She grabbed the girl and held her close, ignoring the pain in her ears. She needed to help her, to make her happy. Something to make her smile. Something she...

A familiar tune resonated from the wall behind her. The neuroLCDs picked up on Selena's desire, and reflected a memory of a week ago, the smiling face of her closest friend. The sound that played was the song she wrote, and Kohime took notice. Her crying slowed as she looked towards the reactivated panel. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Look, it's us." She barely managed to croak through tears. She hummed sobbing in a strained voice to the song that played, while holding desperately to Selena's waist.

This brief reprieve would not last. Those other researchers would hear the song, and, seeing the crying girl, wished for her to be happy. The rocket would be starting it's test launch after all. Soon, she could go home.

As the song spread, more and more people would hear it, carrying with it the image of the surface and the big white rocket. Soon, people began to sing along, making up lyrics that blurred together, as an anthem to the freedom they strived towards. All the while, the woman who wrote the song wondered how her feelings were strong enough to override the panel.

She wouldn't have long to wonder, though, as the nearest panel changed again, this time to a scene all too familiar. A scene she had avoided for so long. As it played, the sobbing in her arms changed to a wretched scream.

At once, two voices spoke. The same person twice, one screaming to a world that would not hear, the other whispering to her closest friend, who alone would listen to her once and once again.

"Selena"

"HOW DARE YOU"

"Is it alright if we talked?"

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!"

"I wanted to get something off my chest..."

"THAT WAS HER SONG"

"It feels like we've known each other forever"

"THAT WAS HER LIFE"

"And I needed to tell you"

"YOU CAN'T TAKE IT FROM HER"

"Just how important you are to me."

"YOU CAN'T TAKE IT FROM US"

"Selena"

"ALL OF YOU"

"I love you"

"I HATE YOU"

"I love you so much."

"I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU"

"You don't have to respond"

"YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED"

"And I'm sure you don't feel the same way"

"SHE CARED FOR YOU ALL"

"But I wanted to be honest"

"AND YOU BETRAYED HER"

"I've always felt this way"

"I'LL NEVER TRUST YOU AGAIN"

"And maybe, if you're willing"

"YOU ALL GET WHAT YOU DESERVE"

"We could go out some time?"

"FOR KILLING HER!"

A lump held in Selena's throat. She knew what was about to happen. She felt it. She tasted it. Regret boiled in her stomach. And here at the end, she could only manage one more sentence.

"Kohime,"

"Kohime-"

Behind the wall, the rocket's thrusters burst to life.

"I'm sorry."

At her final word, the pain of her closest friend before her once and once again, the wall cracked. The crying smile shattered into a thousand pieces, lacerating the overflowing wrath. Selena tried to hold onto Kohime's dying body, but was pushed back by the torrent erupting from the wall in front of her.

As Selena fell deeper and deeper beneath the flooding water, shards of neuroLCD shone around her. In each reflected the memories that replayed in her mind. Not the plans to maintain Alterna, and not the speeches she gave to the reckless businessmen that doomed them.

Her memories were of the happy times. The days in University she spent learning. The machines she managed to make float in the air. The simple Japanese style tune she composed from the Jaws theme. The grin on Kohime's face when she showed her.

The times she and Kohime would complain about work. The praise she received when Kohime was in charge. The sleeping face of Kohime resting her head on her shoulder. The day Kohime confessed, and how she stayed beside her despite rejection.

Selena scolded herself as air left her lungs. She should have spent more time with Kohime. She should have done what she could to make her happy. She should have humored her, just to see her smile one more time. She should have loved her.

Oh.

She already loved her.

Selena's thoughts were clear in her final moments. She already loved Kohime. She had spent her life seeking that attention, that love, which was always reciprocated, and she never paid it any mind, taking for granted the bond they had shared.

Warm tears of regret mixed with the bloody seawater, as Selena's thoughts betrayed her feelings. Her love. Her fear. Her shame. Reflected in the shards of the neuroLCD, her memories changed to the visage of Kohime. Her smiles, her rage, her sadness, her love. All surrounding her in the deep dark ocean. Even as her sight went dark and her thoughts slowed, all she could see was Kohime's proud, loving face, smiling back at her, as if everything would be alright.

She should have loved her.

She should have...

Tens of thousands of years later, a young woman, barely 18, nervously approached the loud stranger on Mt. Nantai. Just a few months earlier, she had defected from the army she was raised by, inspired by a strange song she had heard. A simple, repetitive shrine song performed by enemy mercenaries. One which filled her with fear, love, and a dream of freedom. One which, two days earlier, she heard screamed from the other side of the mountain, as if sung by a particularly skilled jet turbine.

Five years after, at the height of her career, Marina Ida ducks backstage at the end of her band's world tour. At her side, marches the proud woman who found her, one Pearl Houzuki.

The small woman looks back at her, and flashes a proud grin, as if telling her that everything would be alright. At this, only one thought echoed in Marina's head.

I love her.

#Splatoon #Off the Hook #Pearl #Marina #Pearlina #Alterna #O.R.C.A #fanfic #Selena #Kohime #Blood #death #suicide mention #tragedy #romance #sci fi #I don't have an ao3 yet

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