#• “he had galaxies in his eyes” → VISUALS • | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jellykyunnie · 5 months ago

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˗ˏˋ Entry : 060 - Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Valentines Day ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

╰┈➤ ❝ [ My Reason ] ¡! ❞

Valentines day, the day Jinwoo dreads the most. Not because you're oh-so demanding— It's just a habit he never got to shake off even if you're both dating for years.

Just like your birthdays and anniversaries— He makes a big deal out of it.

This time he opted to make a jar of paper stars as his choice of handmade gifts.

"Pfft... Jinwoo, you're 24, why are you acting like you're still 17?" You laugh as he awkwardly stretches the jar of pastel blue and purple paper stars to you.

"Jagiya, don't make fun of me" He coughs, scratching the back of his neck after you accept the little gift he made solely for you.

"But you're too cute right now to not make fun of!" You grin a boxy smile, melting your boyfriend's heart in an instant that he couldn't stop himself from kissing the tip of your nose.

"Come on, let's go on a date" Jinwoo stretches his hand out to you— An offer you immediately accepted.

꒰ .... ꒱

There's only your footsteps in this empty park you both decided to spend the day. while normally it should be running with people— It seems that no one in particular wanted to spend the day outside. Not that you're both complaining since it's quieter for the both of you as well as no lines on the food trucks.

It's a win-win, right?

The day is only spent walking and chatting— To be exact Jinwoo was just babysitting you since you have an aeful record of getting yourself hurt whenever you're both in the park.

Yeah, you're an idiot.

His lovable idiot atleast.

"Hup!" You jump onto a tree stump and stretch out your hand with a single blue paper star he had made.

"Baby, what are you doing?" He snorts, keeping his hands in his pockets as he watched you prance about like a little child.

"I'm just wondering what a real night sky would look like" You explain, humming softly as you keep staring at the paper blue star with the empty night sky as it's backdrop. "If the lights in korea are all out and the air is clean, how many stars do you think we'll be able to see?"

"...."

Jinwoo then looks to the side for quite a while, "Wan't me to show you then?"

"What? Are you going to turn off all of korea's lights now?"

"I can, but I've got a better idea"

He suddenly joins you in the tree stump, pulling you by your waist close to him as the ground suddenly becomes pitch black with the misty shadows gathering into one. You could only gasp at the sudden visual, grasping onto his coat as the mist lifted you both off.

The gathering darkness formed a dragon, the scales of the creature glimmering in monarch purple as it roared loudly before ascending to the sky.

"S-sung Jinwoo, I said warn me next time! Kyahh!" You scream for dear life, practically sobbing whilst the man himself only laughs at your misery.

He hasn't teased you all day after all, how could a man not indulge in his woman?

"Ah... So cute." — Was the only thing in his head as he orders Kaisel to fly faster just so he can hear more of your panicked voice.

꒰ .... ꒱

The flight took a total of 30 minutes, your vocal chords now nonexistent from the screaming and crying. When you both finally landed, you whip a head towards your lover and began hitting him as a form of a tanthrum.

And how does the mighty Sung Jinwoo, the shadow monarch responds?

He only smiles mischievously as he blocks your attacks lazily with his palm.

Jinwoo lets you complain for a bit before placing a gentle palm on your cheek, whispering; "Look Up."

You didn't want to, what if the bastard is going to use his shadows to jumpscare you like he did whenever he's deathly bored? But after staring into those charming grey eyes ou never grew tired off— You finally look up.

Above your head is the edless night sky painted in several and millions of stars of different colors and shades. Pink, blue, yellow, purple, red— A whole galaxy is actually on the otherwise empty sky you've become used to seeing.

"Has... the sky always been pretty like this?" You ask as you are put in a complete daze while as Jinwoo's orbs only focus on you.

"If... There is less pollution and the lights are all turned off— Maybe you would see some other planets too" Jinwoo said.

"Will Woowoo show me that sky too?"

"You really want me to turn off all the lights in this world?"

"Hahah."

He can. You just have to ask.

But Jinwoo knew you won't so he just lets you indulge the night sky. He remembers it clearly, it was also around this hour where he first confessed to you. Although the sky that time is as empty as it gets— It still feels te same.

His hearts are racing, both his human heart and the heart he inherited from Ashborn as he holds your hand in this peaceful hour.

"I love you"

Jinwoo randomly blurts out, opting you to look at him, But his expression; as loving as it is he looks as of he is harboring some unsaid sorrow and regret.

But even if you asked, Jinwoo would only shake his head.

So intead, you return his affection, "I love you too, woowoo!"

That sweet, sweet, innocent and lovely smile of yours. The smile that is forever embedded into his head whenever he has to go through something alone and something that he is not confident in facing. Just like the rest of you from then; Jinwoo will burn this moment of you tonight in his memories should he need to face anything much bigger than he could ever handle.

Wordlessly, Jinwoo leans down and embraces your soft lips in his. A kiss full of tenderness and longing, a kiss of quiet passion.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Idc that Valentines is days awayit's either you take it or not hahahahahah. I love this man sm you don't understand skskdflglr, I genuinely love Sung Jinwoo and idc he's not real I'm very happy living rn because of him. So uh... Happy early valentines everyone!!! ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x you #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #sung jin woo headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader fluff #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling fanfic #ore dake level up na ken

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honey-flustered · 10 months ago

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Kinktober Day 1: Xenophilia/Oviposition

Warnings: 18+ smut, dry humping, dirty talk about alien sex

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie tells you why alien sex is so much better. Maybe he can even show you.

A/N: Decided to join kinktober fun because why not so I’ll be posting to catch up . Posting something risky and weird on the main so lemme know what yall think

You’ve known Eddie to be quite stranger ever since the day you met. It was evident considering the differences in your friend circles. He is a pop culture nerd and you’re the popular cheerleader. Somehow, his weird vibes were able to pull you in, unafraid of the odd rumors associated with him. Hell, you took it as a challenge then. But you’d soon come to fall in love with one another, appreciating the differences as it made teaching each other all the more exciting.

But you’d say the best part of being with Eddie is that neither of you had to hide any of your most intimate and sometimes down-right bizarre secrets from one another.

Like when Eddie learned of your secretly nerdy enjoyment of stargazing and tracking celestial events, he’d purchased a telescope for you where he’d spent the night listening to you explain away the galaxy. And like as of now, when you learned of your boyfriend’s alien sex fantasies while watching the new Alien movie.

You’d noticed the way he shifted in his seat during the movie, adjusting himself in his jeans. You playfully questioned him and he was a mess of stutters and stammers.

“It’s fucked, I know,” He says, avoiding your eyes and twisting a lone ring around his thick finger. “Bet you think I’m a real fucking freak.”

“I mean, I do think you’re a freak,” You say, bringing his face back up to yours. “But that’s exactly what I like. So…if you could have alien sex…how exactly does that work?”

“W-well, there are like some sex toys to make it happen.”

“And the whole egg implanting thing? Is that like when you creampie?” You ask excitedly.

His cheeks grow redder, coughing in embarrassment. “No—So like there are these gelatin egg kits that you can purchase at a sex shop. And they’d get deposited inside through sex and would eventually melt inside you—o-or any person for that matter not just you, of course. I’ll just use us as an example for clarification. But it’s only a fake scenario. Totally not real. For shit and giggles. Hypothe—

“I get it, babe,” You impatiently interrupt. “Get on with it.”

“Right,” He swallows. “So, imagine me wearing this cock sleeve thing that’ll look pretty gnarly because it’ll look kind of like a blue tentacle with all these ridges and bumps—

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oddly specific.”

“Y-Yeah but it’s only to help with the visuals. Not because I have one. Psssh, what?” He says with a anxious high-pitched tone, eyes shifting side to side.

“Mhm,” You say, moving from your spot on the couch to sit in his lap. “Anyway, so back to you naked and wearing that little toy. Will the gelatin eggs be in it already?”

“They would. Then, I’d have to lube up the toy so you can take it. I’d get real nice and slick to the point where it’s dripping like slime just so we’re on the safe side.” He says, letting his hands glide up your thigh, lifting your skirt a little higher.

“Ooo, it’s that big?” You gasp, rocking back and forth against his growing erection. Every now and then, the tip would slip either between your clothed wet core or your soft thighs.

“Uh-huh,” His face in your neck, planting light kisses. “Or maybe you’re just that tight.” He emphasizes the last word while gripping and kneading the inner fat of your thighs.

“Then, what happens?” You mewl.

“Then, I’d stick it deep, deep, deep inside you.” He groans into your ear.

“Would you still be able to feel my warm walls around you? Feel clenching around you so you’d stay inside me?”

“That toy is specifically meant to give you pleasure,” He breathes hotly. “No, I won’t get to feel your tight, wet pussy directly around me. But I’d get pleasure enough seeing your face when I plant my seeds in you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, babygirl?”

“Yes, fuck, why do I want that so badly?” You take his hand to place over one breast. Through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, he quickly locates your pebbled nipple and plucks at it repeatedly.

“Because I just taught you how great monster sex can be.” His teeth sinks into your earlobe.

“You mean there’s more than just alien sex?”

“Mhm, I can show you.” He says, loving that he’s corrupting a girl like yourself.

“Yes, please, master. Show me more.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn smut #teratophillia #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #tw: monster fing #boyfriend!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fandom

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demonic0angel · 1 year ago

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Celestial Bodies AU (maybe part 1/?)

(Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7.)

Superman flew through space, eying the new galaxy that he and Batman had discovered the night before.

“So? What does it look like?” Batman asked him through the communications.

“Well…” Superman looked around. “It’s definitely weird. It has an enormous cluster of stars, but I’m not feeling stronger…”

“What? Are you saying that the radiation isn't working?"

"The stars here are all white stars or above, but they don't make me feel stronger. Actually... I think I'm feeling weaker too. Something is definitely wrong here."

Batman was quiet for only a moment before he asked, "Are you in any current danger? Can you defend yourself?"

"No, I'm fine. I don't sense any living beings around me. I can defend myself." Superman understood what Batman was trying to say. "Are you asking me to stay and continue observing?"

"If you can."

"Of course. I'll stay and continue investigating."

"Thank you," Batman said softly and Superman smiled at that.

"Don't sweat it! Let me get the receiver."

Superman pulled out the device that allowed him to connect to radio signals from space, and began turning it on. However, the moment it turned to life, the radio began to malfunction, short circuiting and turning into static as it shook itself. Superman nearly tossed it away before suddenly, it was normal again.

And then, the signal began to pick up.

And it began to sing.

Superman stared wide eyed as a symphony of music and singing came through the radio. It was a little choir of humming and barely audible voices, sounding as though they were underwater. Still, it was undeniably beautiful, like something heard from heaven.

"Batman," Superman said, hushed, "are you hearing this?"

"... yes."

"It's amazing! Are these stars making these sounds?" Superman continued flying, observing the blue and yellow stars, each radiating a heat that could not power him. He continued flying, listening to the ethereal song that called for listeners.

He hadn't been paying attention when he felt an ever sensed blistering heat and a force beginning to drag him forward. He turned his head and his eyes widened again before he cursed and flew a little distance away.

"Superman? What is it?"

"Batman, turn on your visuals," he said as he turned on the camera.

There was silence before Superman heard the barely audible click and then a buzz of a camera. The camera was attached to Superman and it would send the views back to Batman, allowing him to see just what Superman was freaking out over. When it turned on, Batman was silent for a moment, clearly as confused as Superman was feeling.

"... tell me what I'm seeing."

"A quasar, a protostar that is possibly becoming a blue star, a neutron star, and a black hole all coexisting right next to each other. As well as several planets all circling them like stars."

Superman watched the scene with a sense of both interest, awe, and horrified confusion.

The scene in front of him just wasn't possible. Not only would a black hole consume everything around it, there was already a quasar nearby doing the same thing with an even stronger force. However, the protostar and neutron star were fine even though they were so close, along with the few planets. The planetary nebula around the neutron star circled around each celestial object in an assembly line, flowing from the neutron star to the black hole to the quasar and then to the protostar. If the nebula wasn't taken by one celestial object, it was passed onto another.

Most of the nebula seemed to be absorbed by the quasar and protostar, but the two of them seemed to coexist in peace. The neutron star continued to spin and the black hole surrendered most of the nebula to its neighbors. The planets also spun peacefully, a few even had rings that were not taken by the quasar or black hole.

It was like only foreign objects, like Superman himself, would be absorbed.

It was fascinating. Like they were alive and knew how to live with one another.

Superman explained it to Batman in detail. Batman was silent before he said, "This shouldn't be possible. How could this occur? Unless there was some sort of external force that is keeping each astronomical object to themselves and prevents them from destroying each other, there's no way this could be a natural occurrence."

"Are you suggesting that this is man-made?"

"How could it be anything but? Aren't you listening to singing right now?"

Superman raised the receiver and the singing on the other side continued without pause, a constant symphony of voices.

"... you could be right. Do you want to try and make contact?"

"Yes. Send back a signal."

Superman pressed a few buttons on the receiver to send a radio message back and in an instant, the singing died down, leaving only a faint crackling and a water-like noise.

Biting the bullet, Superman then spoke into the receiver.

"Hello. My name is Superman, and I come from the Milky Way galaxy. I am a kryptonian from the planet Earth. I wish to peacefully connect with you, whoever you are."

More crackling.

Batman cursed softly in his ear and Superman winced, already feeling that he was too impulsive. However, just as he was about to backtrack and escape from this particular galaxy, there was a whispered, shuddery, "Hello."

Superman blinked and then called out, "H-Hello!"

There was silence again, only that underwater staticky noise coming through.

"Can I take this as you accepting my peace offering?"

"... yes."

The sound that came from the receiver seemed to come from many, all joining together into one.

There was a hitched gasp and then Batman hissed, "Keep talking! Ask them questions! Ask them if they want to make contact with us or if we can form an alliance!"

Superman nodded to himself and spoke into the receiver, "Can you see me?"

"We see you."

Superman paused and then continued in stride, "I'm sorry, but I can't see you. Can you show yourself?"

"In front of you."

There was nothing but the strange collection of celestial objects. Unless there was someone inside? It could be possible, but Superman hadn't detected anyone living around him for awhile now.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but—"

"In front of you."

Batman then said through the communicator, "Superman, the neutron star!"

The neutron star in front of him then began to spin faster and faster, before lighting up into a pulsar in the very next second.

Superman was stunned at the sight, as the radiation emitting from the neutron star passed over him over and over and over, radiating with a cold burn that resonated through his bones and made his limbs weak. The impossibly quick change from a regular neutron star into a pulsar only made him even more frightened as the radio signals made the receiver scream.

"We are here." The crackling voices said again, all as one.

Superman flew backwards, his breath caught in his throat.

"Superman?! Why did you go backwards?" Batman demanded.

Superman flinched and then he said softly, "Sorry. Instinct."

It was true. The fear that had entered his body had made him instinctively retreat. It was even worse than looking death in the eye. It was like the feeling of knowing the End of All, of knowing that your existence would be wiped out, of knowing that resistance would be futile and that your death wouldn't even be enough to save the ones you loved.

His heart pounded as he flew a little closer, enough to feel the heat from the quasar again and almost reluctantly said into the receiver, "Are you the neutron star?"

"We are all what you see in front of you."

"'We'? Are all of you speaking to me?"

The neutron star pulsed again, spinning just a little faster like before.

"I am the King. And these are my family."

The voice than switched out, a barely noticeable change in the difference because it was all the same voices speaking as one. However, now a different voice was leading.

"Ask your questions, Son of Jor-El. What do you seek?"

Superman's eyes widened. Then after a moment of silence, he said, "I am here to explore the universe and find protection for the planet I live on. Could you help us?"

"We are but objects in the sky. We will only answer questions."

Batman interrupted. "Ask them if they can see the future and if anything will happen to Earth."

Superman explained to the collection of celestial bodies, "This is my colleague and partner, Batman. We work together for Earth's safety."

"We know. He is the best of you."

There was silence from both Superman and Batman. Superman was stunned, but he also couldn't help but smile. "Yes, that is true. Can you see the future? Can you tell us if any dangers will be coming to earth."

Another voice came to life, taking the lead in speaking. "We can. Whatever comes, you and your Justice League can handle it."

Superman could hear Batman breathe a sigh of relief. Superman felt the same and he placed a hand on his heart as he gave a sigh of relief as well. "Thank goodness." Before Batman said anything, Superman asked, "Could you tell us more about yourself? How do you have a consciousness?"

The radio crackled and popped for a little while before the first voice, the one who called themself 'King' spoke up.

"We were like you once. But then I became a legend."

"Like me?" Superman asked.

Batman then said, "Ask them if they were human."

"Were you human?"

More silence.

And then—

"Yes."

Superman's eyes widened and he couldn't help but gasp in shock, a hand flying to his mouth as he stared at the celestial bodies in front of him, all of which used to be human. These enormous objects that used to be human, now forced to succumb to emptiness and spin in space without pause.

"Are... are you okay? We have magic users in our team, maybe we can offer you help?" Superman asked.

Batman hissed in the comms, "Superman! We don't even know them!"

The receiver crackled some more and the voice changed again. The sound of them being underwater seemed louder than ever.

"We are fine, Son of Jor-El. We are happy."

The person speaking switched to someone new.

"Ask your questions and then leave." The receiver quieted again. And then they spoke, "My little sister needs her rest for her rebirth."

Superman's eyes flicked over to the protostar, which was still absorbing most of the nebula. The only thing that could have possibly been 'reborn' was the protostar, as it needed to heat itself to start the transition to become a main sequence star. Was that one the little sister?

"Just two more questions, if that's alright." He could hear Batman's deep, frustrated sigh. He probably had more questions but was frustrated by Superman's curtesy and his lack of scientific curiosity. Superman knew he was annoyed but he felt an odd camaraderie with the celestial objects. He didn't want to anger them if necessary.

"Speak."

"How old are you? And will you help us again in the future?"

The receiver crackled.

The voice changed once more. "We are all far, far, far older than you imagine. Time does not work for us like other stars."

The speaker switched again. "But in human years, we have not reached our adult ages yet."

The honest confession made Superman's eyes widen, especially as he realized what they meant.

A bunch of children had turned into stars and black holes before they were even adults?

Superman was suddenly starkly reminded of Robin, Batman's sidekick, one of the very few children that he knew in their line of business. By Batman's silence, he was probably thinking along the same lines.

"Speak your last question and leave."

"Can the Justice League depend on you for further help and assistance in the future? I would like to come back if I can."

"Our King was once a hero too. Come if you need it."

That was when the quasar sent out a flare, the gases and planetary nebula around it rubbing against each other hard enough to send sparks Superman's way. It was clearly a warning, especially as the neutron star began spinning rapidly again, radiation beginning to light the air around him in a devastating chill.

"Leave," They all chorused.

Superman immediately turned away without hesitation. "Thank you very much! I will come again!"

The receiver did not speak again. Instead, the songs restarted and the voices continued to sing a song that he could not recognize. It was ethereal, if not haunting.

Superman was smiling as he left. Batman was silent in his ear and Superman finally asked, "So? What do you think?"

"... I think we need more information."

"You're just feeling soft because they said they were heroes and were also children," Superman teased.

"How do you know they weren't lying?" Batman sounded angry.

However, Superman wasn't concerned and only laughed. "Lying? For what? They could definitely rip me apart if they wanted. They even had a baby star with them."

"Hnn." The old softie definitely suddenly had a moment of heartache from remembering the baby star.

Superman glanced behind himself, where the fascinating cluster of stars, planets, and black holes all existed in harmony together. The quasar and neutron star lit the way alongside the other stars and the tiny galaxy grew smaller and smaller as Superman flew away.

Whatever this galaxy actually was, Superman would be glad if they could find the help they needed and helped the Justice League in turn.

".... let's come back in a month," Batman said, sounding like it was pulled out from his teeth.

It was good that Batman felt the same way.

Perhaps the next time Superman came, he could chat some more with this little galaxy?

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I did so much research for this, it's crazy 😭

Dan is the black hole and Danny is the neutron star. The reason is that both of them are technically star corpses (a large or high-mass collapsed or dead star can either result in nothing, a black hole, or a neutron star) and while Dan consumes everything around him, Danny is a remnant of a star before him. The planetary nebula that came from Danny going supernova is consumed by his siblings, mostly Jazz or Dani. Dan and Danny don't fight over it bc they love their sisters.

Dani is a protostar, which is also a baby star. I hc that she used to be a star before, but she's just restarting her rebirth until she becomes a black hole or a neutron star like her siblings :3

Jazz is a quasar, which is a different type of black hole, (inspired by this post I made). She and Danny light the way for their little galaxy.

Tucker and Sam are also there, as planets! They used to be stars but they're reborn as planets this time. Tucker is a desert planet with several Saturn-like rings of metals and sand. Sam is a terrestrial planet and is capable of life. All that's on her is plants and animals tho (they haven't gotten enough time to evolve yet). The rest of the crew (Valerie, Wes, etc) are also there and are planets. They never really reach the level of stars tho.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #jazz fenton #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #celestial object au #dan phantom #dani phantom #dani fenton #danielle fenton #danielle phantom #phantom family #dp crossover #dp au #dp x dc au

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aeristudios · 2 months ago

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2099: A Seventeen Series

50 years ago, the milky way as we know it was destroyed, leaving the remaining human population to find find shelter in another galaxy—deemed The Shattered Nebula. Now it's 2099, and with civilization spawning across several planets, we will follow the lives of the thirteen souls of Seventeen as they carve their paths through love, danger, destiny, and the beyond...

Genres: fluff, angst, smut, sci-fi au, dystopian au

General warnings include heavy topics, depictions of violence and murder, talks of murder, uprisings/rebellions, morally grey characters, recreational drinking, use of guns, etc. Each story will be explicitly tagged and will be 18+ ONLY.

If you would like to sign up to be tagged for each story when it's released, you can sign up here.

✦ Thank you @hobeemin for the banner and dividers ✦

See You, Space Cowboy

✦ ⋆ ࣪. With a bounty on your head, you are determined to get your revenge at all costs… even if it means losing the man that you love.

pt. 1 pt. 2 visual concept 1 visual concept 2 playlist

Girl With The Spider Tattoo

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Jeonghan doesn’t do feelings. He runs his business, takes care of his sister, and lives his life attachment-free. He was okay with that until you showed up, too perfect and careful lies. But despite that, he wants you anyway.

coming soon

Like Wildfire

✦ ⋆ ࣪. She was someone soft from his past, a dreamer who longed to be with the stars—someone who had no business surviving in the bloodstained world Soonyoung lives in. She disappeared during an uprising, and he assumed she was dead. Now, years later, he finds her with the rebels, with eyes like wildfire, ready for revenge.

coming soon

Lucid Dreams

✦ ⋆ ࣪. After a near-death experience, Investigator Jun starts seeing you in his dreams, someone he doesn’t know but feels deeply connected to. When he tracks you down in real life, you claim never to have met. But each night, the lucid dreams grow stronger… and your reactions start to change.

coming soon

The Fixer

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Chan is a fixer—always ready to please, trained to obey… except for when it comes to you.

Sleeping With The Enemy

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You're the daughter of a rebel general, forced to marry the crowned prince Joshua to unite the warring factions. You hate each other and it's no secret. But an attempt on your life forces you to share chambers with him, and you aren't so sure you hate him anymore.

coming soon

What Lies Within

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You’re hired to investigate a string of murders tied to relics once held in the now-destroyed Oracle Vault. Minghao, a famous ancient artifact curator, agrees to help you, but only if he gets to keep the relics. The deeper you go, the more disturbing the truths become, and you find yourselves fighting for your lives— and running into each other’s arms.

coming soon

Save Me

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You're a prisoner from Mechara for a crime you did not commit, locked in a floating penitentiary. Injured during a riot, you’re taken to the infirmary, where Seokmin, the resident medic, treats you under strict surveillance. He’s gentle, careful, too kind for this place. And as much as you don’t want to, you start to trust him.

coming soon

T.K.O

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Seungkwan is a smooth-talking promoter who runs underground fights. Everything was going fine until you entered the ring and knocked him off his feet.

coming soon

Cordis

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You’re the sole survivor of an explosion from a chemical lab in Zoie City. Jihoon rescues you, bringing you to his station. He monitors your vitals daily as you recover, watching your heartbeat stabilize in sync with his own. He insists it’s clinical. But he’s lying

coming soon

Erased

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You sell memories on the black market—sliced, edited, and projected. Vernon is your most loyal client, always buying memories that don’t belong to him. One night, he brings you a memory chip he found—a forbidden one—and asks you to watch it with him. It’s a memory of the two of you: laughing, kissing, saying goodbye. You don’t remember it. But he does. And someone out there wants that memory erased—for good.

coming soon

Need You

✦ ⋆ ࣪. You overheard something you shouldn’t have, and you’ve been on the run ever since. Almost at the end of your rope, you turn to the one person you know would drop anything to save you—even though you still hate him for breaking your heart.

coming soon

Peaches

✦ ⋆ ࣪. Seungcheol is at the top of the world as the head of The Organization. He’s respected, feared, and if you are an enemy? Run. But once a month, he returns to his serene hometown to visit his mother… and buy peaches from the girl who doesn’t flinch when she looks him in the eye.

coming soon

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millidew · 7 months ago

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its been almost 6 years since kaito and ouma have infested me. here's me talking out of my ass for over 2k words

to love the ouma-kaito dynamic is to love the themes of v3. to see one of them as 100% correct and the other as 100% wrong is to hate the themes of v3.

there must be balance. which is one of the themes!

at first, they each represent one end of their spectrums: lies, distrust, and logic VS truth, trust, and emotion. but it's not all black and white— they're far more similar than they think

to get the obvious visual foiling out of the way: short vs tall, scrawny vs muscular, pale vs tan (relatively...), round eyes vs sharp eyes, cool purple vs warm purple, black and white vs a colorful galaxy, and a tight "straitjacket" vs what's basically loose pjs

they're visual opposites, but they're also both purple, charismatic leaders, would rather die than their let go of their respective roles of hero and villain, and both want to end the killing game. they're also both SO dramatic. they cannot be separated.

all this is to say that they're the same, just taking different approaches (i mean, just compare their early FTEs. what are you two FUCKING talking about. your ass is NOT a pirate kaito shut up). ouma hides drops of truth within his lies and lives to poke holes in others' poorly concealed lies. kaito talks about being honest, but is also constantly lying to himself and others. and it's so fitting for them to essentially die with each other.

lying your way to the truth, and 10 other tricks to surviving a killing game:

v3 is a game that asks: who are you? why are you even alive? what parts of you are really "you"?

in other words: what is true and what is a lie? does it matter?

the flashback lights are all lies. tsumugi can literally rewrite their "truth" as she wishes. and of course, there's the fact that they're all fictional characters come to life.

and there's the big lie of ch1, brought back in ch6. although this is less relevant to me, personally, because kaede fully intended and did try her damnedest to kill so either way she's still at fault soo

the theme of the survivors is that they all have a reason to fight to live even if the world is hell, because they're pushed forward by the connections they made— kaede's encouragements, the training with kaito that led to shuichi and maki's happiness, and himiko's memories of tenko and angie. even though maki loses kaito, because she had those good times with him that led to her change in self-worth, she'll be okay in the end. she's not enforcing her own loneliness anymore.

basically, "maybe the real reason to live is the friends we made along the way"

shuichi explicitly says that his feelings are true, even if they're born of lies. to lie, there has to be a truth. to be truthful, you can't lie. yin yang and all that

it's even shown with the game mechanic of perjury. kaede and shuichi can literally lie for the sake of finding the truth

he rejects being forced to choose between "hope" and "despair," breaking the cycle. it's pretty easy to apply this to the other dichotomies in v3: truth vs lies, trust vs distrust, logic vs emotion. even heroes vs villains.

ultimately, i think v3 aligns more closely with kaito's ideology, because of course truth and trust is a good thing....!, but not without poking massive holes in it too. because kaito's a prideful hypocrite and the game does NOT let you forget it <3 more on that later

little white lies AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 1:

"is the truth worth it? aren't feel-good white lies ok? what even is a lie?" ouma asks with his little hater heart. (ch1 and ch4)

here, we see ouma questioning the individual nature of common sense ("gut instinct", if you will)— how can kaede decide if his talent is a lie? what is a lie? if ouma is 99% lies by weight, what is ouma??? an annoying grape??

we all want the truth, right? but the truth can be ugly. that's what ouma's always showing.

this is something shuichi also tackles with his feelings on his own talent. by exposing the truth, he causes pain to others. but this isn't about him, so you'll just have to keep that in mind

in the death road to despair in ch1, it's kaede's optimism that causes misery to the rest of her classmates. they're lying to themselves when they try to do it over and over. again, ouma calls her out on it, pissing off kaito who supports kaede 100%. the idea they can all get out and become friends is…also really unlikely. and even with kaede's murder "for the greater good", ouma disparages her for doing it in the first place: she lost the moment she seriously considered the thought, and played right into monokuma's bloodthirsty lil' paws.

right after the ch3 execution, himiko still refuses to let herself feel… until ouma calls her out on it. stop lying to yourself. and they all let it out, crying together. it's a good thing, and spurs on himiko's arc to be more true to herself. you did a good thing, ouma. now onto ch4! yay!

the "truth of the outside world", and ch4 as a whole, is probably the most in your face way of showing this. but more on that later.

the boys are back:

if you want a good relationship with someone, vulnerability is key, one that ouma unfortunately can't replace with a lockpick. you have to be honest. maki and shuichi were honest to kaito, which let him help them out.

ouma is definitely not vulnerable, up until the very end. ouma's distrust of everyone pushes them away, leaving him alone— without the "reason to fight to live" the others have— living out of spite and determination, until he dies for that too. like maki, he reinforces his own loneliness, but unlike her, he never makes those connections that make him change into a more well-rounded person.

kaito's better than him, which is a really low bar, but the game goes out of its way to tell you that he's still hiding secrets and adamantly refuses to let down his hero persona, harming both himself and those around him. you are COUGHING UP BLOOD, you are NOT okay. while his sidekicks still know something is wrong, he refuses to truly let them in, instead just brushing them off.

and that pisses ouma off. at the very least, ouma's honest about being a liar. kaito, in his eyes, is a coward. (not only that, people still like him despite being a liar..... but that's probably more to do with kaito being way less of a dick).

ouma, in kaito's eyes, is also a coward. he can call ouma a two-faced coward as much as he wants, but pot, meet kettle

chapter 4 AKA ouma is sick of your shit part 2:

ok. seriously onto ch4 this time. it's the perfect set up to the insanity of ch5. the tension is insane. also, ouma does not shut up about kaito having a crush on him. ok man.

from now on, it's the kaito & ouma show, the truth & trust & hope & emotion & hero VS lies & distrust & despair & logic & villain show.

and the game puts kaito, and all his themes, in the wrong. poor gonta and shuichi are just along for the ride

the stubborn belief that worked so well for maki in ch2 makes kaito refuse to believe, despite the evidence pointing to it, that gonta is the blackened, endangering everyone. and this is the cause of kaito and shuichi's rift which ouma takes great pleasure in. i'm sure this greatly validates his own distrust and loneliness, seeing it as the superior option

kaito's a liar, shuichi's a liar, and gonta is...not a liar but still technically wrong. YOU'RE ALL LIARS AND KAITO/SHUICHI STANS. YOUR FAVE IS PROBLEMATIC. OUMA'S FUCKING PISSED

it's the hypocrisy that gets to him the most imo

does he know?

anyways, it's a great showdown between their two ideologies. up until now, i'd say the score was roughly 3:1 in kaito's favor, but now it's definitely more even. it even features ouma punching kaito instead of the other way around like last time: something made possible imo because of kaito's sickness, which ouma forces him and everyone to acknowledge by doing this

this is a massive L for the hero side.... can the sidekicks clutch this victory and save the princess?

(interestingly enough, note that kaito doesn't even seem to hate ouma after all that. at the start of ch5, he puts ouma and gonta in the same category as having snapped under the pressure due to monokuma. his feelings, of course, change later on.)

...

are you sure about that

yeah, the truth sucks sometimes, huh?

what now?

chapter 5 AKA the boys are back 2 AKA voyage without passion or purpose AKA the sickest chapter name ever

ch5 combines ouma and kaito's ideologies through their swansong, their magnum opus, their collective theatre kid dream

the hangar man. THE HANGAR. no more cameras. no more prying eyes. no more heroes. no more villains. NO PASSION (KAITO). NO PURPOSE (OUMA). WHAT'S THE POINT. IT ALL BLURS (probably because of the blood loss)

think about it this way: kaito is literally dying, hypocritically refusing to let his friends in. ouma is metaphorically dying, because he lacks the "reason to fight to survive" everyone else has, because he has no trust, no friends, no bitches... anyways

(also the poison, which is. you know. is also literally killing him but shush)

the closest he had was, imo, miu for a little, then kaito in ch5. but in the end, it's all spite, not connection, that drives him. ouma kills himself to prove a point, and they both die as a middle finger to the mastermind— a hollow victory, in many ways.

think about kaito sitting alone in the exisal, hacking his lungs out in the metallic silence of the belly of the beast, having just learned one of the truths behind ouma's act, then killing him, then having to lie to all your friends for the hope that ouma's final, crazy plan works out. he's finally stooped to ouma's level. he's so used to the smell of blood by now. does ouma's blood on his hands look any different from his own?

even kaito's motto: "the impossible is possible! all you gotta do it make it so!" is pretty much an admittance. you can make a lie (impossible) the truth (possible).

also ouma bleeding out looking like shit laying in kaito's galactic coat like a cape. kaito squeezing his eyes shut before before pressing the buttons. these images changed lives.

the lying truthersssss...working together!!! to literally pretend to be each other!!! to blur into one being!! trusting each other to see it through for their shared goal!! at first glance, maki thinks it's her fault— that ouma manipulated kaito using her, but kaito disagrees, saying it was for the sake of ending the killing game.

this is all to hammer home the idea that we shouldn't see them as "hero" or "villain." the cast sees them as it first, but of course, we know that's not so simple by the time kaito steps out of the exisal.

in the end, they fail, but kaito puts his and ouma's dreams in their hands. they can do it better this time.

plus, kaito finally stops lying to himself and others about being a liar, the thing ouma gave him endless shit for. it only took him 5 chapters

is it wrong to call "that was a lie" ouma's catchphrase?

i still can't believe maki believed him. love makes you stupid i guess

extra thoughts:

you might be wondering why i call him "ouma" and not "kokichi." i do the same with some other characters: kirigiri, togami (though i switch between that and byakuya nowadays), and komaeda. it's because i don't know them like that. we are NOT friends. "kirigiri" is out of respect however

don't you think ouma has his own "sidekicks," his "villain lackeys," if you will, in DICE?

kaito's execution music should've had the "reach for the stars" line from sdr2 and i'm still mad about it

and they should've both in that exisal idc

kaito somehow exited that exisal with a new jacket. it's my headcanon that, in respect of a fellow theatre kid, ouma stole a second jacket from kaito's room and put it in the exisal

VR au post game low(high)key codependent oumota is everything and i'll happily read 1000 fics about it

also just outside of the Themes of it all, and tbh my main draw to this duo... they're so funny. they are SO. FUNNY. THEY'RE SO GOOFY TOGETHER. STOP TRYING TO ONE UP EACH OTHER

they should run around and beat each other with toy hammers. it's enrichment.

this isn't like thematically relevant but their love hotel events really show how well they could work together. they want a rival to pump them up and fight back so bad!! they'd have the craziest vigilante beef

WHY IS THIS 2.1K WORDS/???!> i am so weak to rivals man

tldr: look at this meme.

tldr 2.0: a true kaito fan is also a true ouma fan and vice versa. you may not like it, but they're two peas in a pod. don't worry though, they're not happy about it either.

#my post #danganronpa #drv3 #ndrv3 #kaito momota #kokichi ouma #oumota #not really but like this is the core of any oumota propaganda imo #tw sui ideation #in the ch5 segment

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stargirl-writes · 2 years ago

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promises

pairing : f! reader x rots! anakin skywalker

word count : 1k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

ever since anakin had killed dooku, your anxiety has never settled. for you were watching him slowly lose himself in the war. and you lie late at night lost in the idea that maybe, being with you didn't make any difference at all. so, you watched him sleep, at peace, stealing what little time you could have with him.

tags : angst, comfort, love, flangst (?)

warnings : pretty much none, just angsty stuff to cry to hehe

notes : hello beautiful people! i finished the film past lives and there's this one line that just shattered me 😭 so i just wanna share this little imagine before i go to sleep :) hope ya like it 🪽🩷

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated ! (and fuels me hehe)

Anakin Skywalker is your secret.

Your beautiful little secret.

Here wrapped in these sheets, where everything softens. Hushed. Kissed by the gentle rays of the moonlight.

You have been awake for some time now. But you didn't dare move. Anakin was still deep in his dreams exhausted from the day before. Despite his slumber, his arms wrap around you protectively.

You placed your head on his chest, following his breathing and listening to the soft thuds of his heart.

Your gaze lands on his peaceful expression.

How can someone look so beautifu?

You thought, he looked like the people in the paintings. Like how an artist would imagine a being with the perfect proportions. And he'd move as if each stroke is intended with grace.

The force made him. You'd sometimes catch yourself lost in his eyes, staring, studying the way it'd crease at the ends when he smiles. Is he even human? You'd think to yourself. He is the galaxy made flesh. That has to account for his prettiness, you think.

You take a deep breath; the scales of the ongoing war are further tipped to the Republic's advantage after Anakin had killed Dooku.

It was so close. Even the air itself has shifted. You can feel it, the end. You can almost visualize it.

Maybe then, things will change...

Selfishly, you feel your heart ache by the little amount of time you could share with Anakin. You can't help it, you have always belonged to him, and for that, you have suffered.

He is the Jedi Order's first. Before you can call him yours. You're not even sure if he is his own's anymore. Because you've watched how this war takes so much of him.

Be smarter, Be more cunning, Be more ruthless. Offer yourself again and again and again.

There's so little of him that remains.

You blinked, sighing once more. You reminded yourself that you are here, tangled in his embrace. It was enough to know that here he lies, with you.

Anakin shifts and you hold your breath. You begged the Gods to not wake him, not yet, let me have him, just for now.

Anakin mutters something. Huttese, the language he grew up on. Your eyebrows furrowed, you never really got to understanding the language even after studying it.

His heart paces under your touch. You kept your gaze on his face, deciding whether you should wake him up or have him rest.

He has been having so many nightmares lately...

His eyes abruptly open and you lent your weight on your elbow to better survey him.

"It's alright, Ani, it was just a dream" You spoke softly, careful not to startle him.

Anakin's wide-eye terror softens at the sight of you, his chest heaves trying to catch his breath.

"It's alright" You coo once more, placing a kiss on his forehead.

He presses his eyes close, and his eyes are intent in yours as he follows your breathing.

You can't help but feel a sting in your heart. He is reaching his limit, and it worries you that whenever he's away, he is close to blurring the lines and crossing it.

Anakin presses his face to your clavicle, and your hands find a way to tangle in his hair. Noticing his silence, you spoke soothingly "What's on your mind, Ani?"

Anakin's breath felt warm against your neck. You used to be able to read Anakin's thoughts. Like he'd write it down in words on pages of a novel for you to be able to understand him. But now, he's been more distant, more incoherent, and you feel as though you have to decipher every little thing that he allows you to see.

"mmm—just tired" Anakin's voice was gravelly and of resignation.

Stop turning me away. You wanted to say. But you already know that the more you try to push him, the further he'll hide away.

You take a deep breath, wishing you could take away some of the weight off his shoulders. "You know you speak in Huttese when you're asleep"

"I do?" Anakin tilts his chin, his eyes are still half-asleep.

"Yeah, I could never understand it though" You managed a wan smile.

"That's probably good for you, Huttese is a very coarse language" He claims.

"Still—" You held back your tongue, deciding it would only drive him away if you asked about his dream.

"I fear that you dream in a language I can't understand"

The silence hung. Anakin must be asleep.

Your gaze moved faraway— deep in contemplation. Wondering if you being in his life made any difference at all.

"You know, I only ever feel like myself when I'm with you, right?" Anakin speaks, voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed scarlet, realizing your force signature may have revealed your anxieties.

"I know"

Anakin shifts his head, eyes latched on to you like he was memorizing every detail of your face.

"Ani" you began, "If there's a life after it all, will you come with me?"

Anakin's eyebrows flashed at the suddenness of your question.

"What do you mean?" He places his hand on the small of your back, tracing small circles.

"Well, I'm only wondering, will you come with me, even then?"

Anakin's expression softens, recognizing your fears. You were losing him, slowly, bit by bit. And if you're bound to him in this life, why not in the other?

When you can finally feel like you're not constantly the only one holding on.

He doesn't answer for a while, you feel the need to ramble, to withdraw.

It was silly of you to ask, he is free to choose whatever life he wants to live after it all, besides, if he decides to want to rest, you won't take that away from him, if he ever wants to—

"I'll go wherever you go" he declares, halting the thoughts plaguing your mind.

His eyes drift away from yours "I can't... I know what my duty requires of me and I'm sorry if I haven't been here for you."

"But, I'll love you in a time that isn't stolen" he promises, tucking your hair away from your face.

You felt tears glistening in your eyes. You smiled, leaning in to tenderly kiss Anakin.

The hope of it all would be enough to keep you going.

Just a little while longer.

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evermetnotforgotten · 1 month ago

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There's some comfort in his story finally being at its end.

This isn't how Coin thought he'd go, bleeding out in a hidden service centre at the ass end of the galaxy, mechanical body parts severed and strung over his head like the worst of party decorations. But if he's being honest - and Coin may be a crook and a thief, but he's not a liar - it isn't exactly out of scope. By all accounts he should be halfway to Turniget by now, or getting his brain fixed in a reeducation clinic in Realto 9. Worse things have happened to better crypto-anarchists than he.

At least he's been left alone for a minute, with Deputy Commissioner Deren Rieger, AKA the De-Commissioner, having left the cell a little while ago. It's a weary but welcome reprieve, to breathe, to starve, to lie in a steadily growing pool of his own blood, and to drive himself crazy with all the things he should or should not have done in order to not wind up in here.

Coin flexes his muscles, and immediately regrets it - it's super weird, wiggling your toes at one end of the room when your thighs are on the other.

His limbs are still connected to the little integration chip in his brain, at least until they take that out of him that too. Not only can he feel the magnetic cuff tethering left leg, right leg, right arm to the rack, but also the points at which the fingers of his right hand rest against the smooth, white wall. The faint damage alerts where certain sections are scratched or dented. The wetness of his own blood dripping off the integration ports, down the back of his wrist.

They're useless to him now, though - every single enhancement he's put into himself, rendered to nothing by brute force and a couple of magnets. Coin would feel hopeless, or frightened, if he could give the emotions any space amongst the pain.

Minutes turn to hours, and when he hears the shh-whoomph of the pneumatic door, Coin has no energy to spare except what he uses up in a pathetic groan. But at the slap of a wet mop Coin does look up, to see -

Oh. Oh good gods, he's alive.

Coin sees an android, one who has patched him, and been patched up by him countless times. One here to his rescue.

"Art," Coin says.

He knows it's really him from the visual history - the slightly miscoloured synthetic skin under his left eye, from that time Coin only had #DFC183. The silver stud in a single pierced helix, the android asking does this typically cause pain to a human? As the needle went through. The section of neck plating that doesnt quite sit right ever since it was torn off that once.

But if they were old acquaintances not-quite-recognising each other across a room, at least Art would have had to look at Coin to check. As it stands, not a single glance is afforded. The mop swipes slowly left to right.

"Arthur. Hey. Art."

His voice is hoarse from the screaming earlier. Stupid, in the end, to use a vital resource up so quick. When Coin reaches his flesh arm towards the android, in the path of the mop, his hand is deftly circumnavigated.

"Arthur," he tries again, knowing its no damn use - the thing has been wiped. "Tag one-eight-three-four. Oi. Pause subroutine." If he can just get Arthur to take his arm down off the wall, maybe he has a chance of getting them both out of here.

The android pays no mind, completely focused on his task of dragging the mop side to side through the leakage of Coin's blood. His movements are smooth and efficient, like in all things, and he's wearing a thin vest in fluorescent green that reads I'M HERE TO HELP on the breast. His eyes, dimmed like when they're in night mode, carefully track where the offending liquid escapes the sweep of his tool. He retreats to the interior corridor once, to rinse the mop when it's doing nothing but making things dirtier.

It's then that it clicks. Art came in here because of a cleaning main routine adjustment made by Coin himself - a bid to get him to clean into the access chamber, and not just to the threshold. He probably thinks he's doing that right now. Coin lifts a shaky hand to press thumb and forefinger into closed eyelids.

"Give me my arm. Or, or a leg - void, Art, give me anything. Look at me."

For just a second, it seems as though he's used the magic words - mercifully, Art looks at him. Moves a little closer with that blank but open expression on his face, the same one he gets after gently advising Coin that his heart rate is elevated, asking if he'd like to do a breathing exercise.

Then the android pulls a cloth from his vest pocket, and wipes up a missed smear of blood by Coin's head.

Coin can't help the unearthly laugh that escapes him.

"She's gonna kill me." He laughs again. "She's gonna fucking kill me, and you're gonna hear it. You're gonna be right outside the fucking door."

If Arthur understands, there's not a single indication of it. He moves back into the corridor, internal service ticket closed, moving to the next. The fluro vest has the same cheerful slogan printed on the back in block letters, this time with a smiling cartoon dog underneath.

"Don't you dare leave me here," Coin pleads.

The door closes.

Maybe there are worse ways to go, Coin just can't think of any right now.

#what do I tag uhh #space whump #scifi horror #space pirates - the working title that doesnt even make sense anymore #coin lacoste #arthur #deren rieger #body horror tw

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septima-severa · 2 months ago

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The Abuse of Power excerpt (Krennic/reader, NSFW)

[technically, I'm doing this only to taunt my lovely co-conspirator, @thrawnnn]

“Didn’t have the luxury of dressing properly, Orson,” you hummed. “I was too busy kissing the arses of those you manipulate me to, although I refused to suck Tarkin’s shrivelled cock. Is it what messed you up this time? Did he complain about my refusal, hmm?”

“Close,” he acknowledged. Of course, the Grand Moff had given him an earful, hinting at your rejection too much. As if he had revelled in every single opportunity to cause the director an anguish. But it hadn’t been only him that had been grinding his gears recently –

At his admission, you continued, ignorant of the other cause. “First, both his wife and the newest mistress wouldn’t appreciate it, and I would end up with my eyes scratched out at best. And second, there is not enough engine coolant to rinse my mouth with afterwards. I would rather you fucking my ass – and you know I hate it – than entertaining that fossil in private,” you scowled while your monologue grew heated, making your strange accent more prominent. “Not to mention that you wouldn’t approve of it.” More recent memories flooded your mind then. “… Oh, no, I take it back. I wouldn’t fuck the Grand Vizier for all the credits in this galaxy.”

He chuckled at your words. “Did he propose?”

“Oh, yes. At least twice today, his visual display of agitation will circulate the gossip columns for a while – you know how that Chagrian is. And the reporters will be mocking me, no doubt, because of it. I think he’s done it on purpose,” you paused, grimacing at the unfinished thought. “If you manage to piss off the Emperor, I’m going to kill you myself, and then I’m going to poison myself with the coolant. Over your cold, dead body.”

“How romantic,” Krennic cocked his head. “But not if I shoot you first.”

The barrel of his pistol jabbed your ribs again.

“Then do it,” you hissed.

Instead of a bolt coming, he yanked the other strap of your garment down and stepped back to admire your naked body for a moment when it pooled at your feet, as you didn’t wear anything else. You watched him defiantly as he holstered his weapon again, wearing it on the opposite hip from his dominant hand as always. There was no way to hide the prominent bulge in his pants, its growth fuelled by lust. Once his desire to see you naked was sated, he reached for you, grabbing your arm and yanking you to him. You could feel his badly concealed erection, hot and heavy, pressing into your lower stomach, twitching at the sudden proximity of its intended prize.

He bent you over the chair forcibly, and you huffed at the contact, barely catching yourself. The shimmersilk kimono you had discarded there earlier crumpled under your vice grip keeping you somewhat steady. His glove was trailing down your back maddeningly slowly, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before he kicked your legs apart with his boot. You shivered, knowing too well what was to come prior to his hands cupping your naked bottom, kneading the flesh, exposing everything to his scrutiny.

Can he see how embarrassingly wet it makes you?

A finger gliding in between your folds told him all he needed to know anyway. He barely suppressed a bark of laugh at this discovery. “The thought of Mas Amedda ravaging you has turned you on, I see,” he mocked you. Pressing his soiled fingers to your mouth, he commanded darkly, “Clean it.”

#star wars #fanfiction #director krennic #orson krennic smut #krennic x reader #grand moff tarkin

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beefscrap · 7 months ago

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CONTEST HONORABLE MENTIONS

A total of 12 designs were submitted for this contest. Holy crap! I couldn’t ask for more. Not only that but they were all so goddamn cool and creative. It was HARD picking the top three out of all of them. So if you weren’t chosen, you should still be so proud of yourself!! Thank you to each and every one of you for your submissions.

Everyone who didn’t get first place can do whatever they wish with their designs, ofc. Whatever you choose, I wanted to do a LITTLE something to express my thanks. So I did a stupid little doodle for each of them :]

THE SUBMISSIONS

The first submission, and a GREAT start! I love your clean style, and the colors you used. Like I said before, I LOVE the birthmark

SO BADASS!!! Nugget never fails to make an amazing design. The headcanons are so silly and entertaining to think abt. Imagining a dragon who loves to walk on his hind legs for no reason like lmaooo

The colors here are FANTASTIC. The fades between each scale plate are super unique. I really love the pattern of the stars, too. Just a super cool style in general.

I ADORE the idea of nightwing scales going white with age for this dude. As I said before I loveee how he’s shaped. So many fun lore ideas were added to this guy. I love old men

Beautiful wings and awesome colors. The combo of red and blue is really cool. You have such a pretty style!!! And I love their big ears

Another baddassss designnnn. Face marking you added is something I just can’t get over. I had so much fun reading the lore.. and his name (Sickle-Moon) is so cool sounding.??! Where do yall find these names

(As I’ve said) I haven’t seen compression gloves like this for a dragon before! That’s so cool! And the pattern on them makes them even better. The blues are great - need more blue Nightwings in my life

The amount of detail put into this is CRAZY. Especially with those accessories - holy crap. They were something i particularly kept note of because of the job this character has in the story …

Love love loveddd this guy. Again, the tear drop jewelry was something I kept in mind and really liked. There’s so much care put into the scales in this drawing. Omg some of you have patience that I do NOT

#I will have the top results next soon :]#then.. more book 2 news #aiming for early January 👀#for the prologue #tbofs2designchallenge

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novadodson · 2 years ago

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#• “he had galaxies in his eyes” → VISUALS •#q post more videos so i can have content i beg

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weebsinstash · 2 years ago

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I just have to say I'm absolutely loving your yandere Thragg & Nolan stuff! Keep it up & I hope you have a nice day!! ♡

Thank you! And, also, gonna be using this post to talk about more yandere Thragg stuff because I was refreshing my knowledge on the comics and my YTShorts feeds are now filled with Invincible lore recommendations and, jesus I forgot how fucking nasty this man is

first off I'm using this image to just help kind of visualize how much of a unit this man is. Like. He's probably something crazy like 6'6 at the very shortest, maybe like 6'8, 6'9. But. Um. He's scary. He's tough. Viltrumites get tougher the longer they're alive and he's, not THE oldest Viltrumite but, maybe he's in like the top 10? But I think there's only something like an odd, less than 50 number of pure blooded Viltrumites left anyways lmao

Which is then my transition to "dealing with yandad Thragg as his child could be an absolute nightmare especially if you don't have powers"

Dying on my hill of "even if you do have powers he's super fucking possessive over who you're choosing as a mate or even just dating" because there's layers of 1. He has his own massive ego and your actions reflect on him and anyone you bring into the family will benefit from his lineage and achievements and he's defensive about who reaps those bounties or may even be suspicious of political intentions 2. If he hypothetically does let you date he needs to pre approve them first and I'm sure you can imagine how that goes and 3. .... you're his widdle baby, can't you spend more time with dad :( shut up about finding love, why can't you crush skulls with him? "Child why can't we go slaughter alien civilizations together like we used to 😩"

The last paragraph made me think of "Thragg with a child Reader who's actually a really spunky tough kid and he like is so proud of you and you guys have like An Actually Good Relationship (for Thragg's capacity to love anyways) but as you get older you start having ideological differences and you want more freedom but he just wants you to be Daddys Favorite Little Killing Machine for the rest of your life". Like you're just giving Thragg the cold shoulder because he won't let you leave the planet without his personal escort anymore and meanwhile here's thragg hovering over you with his arms crossed, internally scowl-pouting as he remembers The Good Old Days when you were like 6 and ran up to him, "Dad, Dad, look!! this is a note from my teacher praising me for how well I beat up another student! She says I'm 'extremely proficient at bludgeoning'! Did I do a good job?" "You did an EXCELLENT job. It says here the boy needed medical attention." "Yeah, he had to be sent to the hospital! His legs were totally bent the wrong ways! He shouldnt have tried to steal my toy!" "Fine work; you should never allow anyone to take what is yours. We shall feast tonight in celebration." And he pet your hair and you flew up to his chest height to give him a crushing hug. And nowadays you're like. The Viltrumite equivalent of being in your early adult years and everything is extremely cold and impersonal and you call him nothing other than Grand Regent and he "maybe" just wants his eager confident prideful Affectionate child back because all he has now is. A child that hates him and will barely make eye contact with him and will never accept his praise or medals for your achievements.

Like imagine being a notoriously powerful Viltrumite and you're actually widely accepted but him being controlling of you throughout your childhood eventually gave you a complex. Thragg summons you to like praise you for like, subjugating a nearby galaxy, and asks what you would like for a reward, and you just coolly reply some shit like "There's nothing you could offer that I want, Grand Regent" like you hate him so much you don't even want gifts from this man

AND THE DELICIOUS DRAMA OF, imagine if he finds out that while you hate him and want nothing to do with him, maybe you've become extremely attached to Nolan or some other older father figure in his place

THE SHIT THAT GOES DOWN IF THRAGG EVER HEARS YOU CALL NOLAN OR ANYONE ELSE "DAD" like the cosmic level beef that goes on, the BLOODSHED. Jesus. Imagine being on Earth and you've got Dad Nolan or he's like declared himself your dad/mentor and he sees you bonding with another human male who's a father figure and you call that man dad, like. That man is going missing and Uncle Sam is erasing his existence from the records just, gone.

Side note actually, idea for something yandere viltrumites do with a viltrumite/hybrid reader: loving to bear hug you super hard? Like almost painfully but they won't break anything. Just. Imagine yandad Nolan or Thragg or Mark with like, a lil sibling/ child/ age regressed Reader or whatever and you're having like, hugging contests to see who can hug the hardest, and play wrestling shit idk. Imagine the infamously grumpy genocidal Thragg and then here's his like 4 year old wanting to play wrestle and trying to pin him and you're no match for him of course but like it's not, real, he's "gently" deflecting you or breaking your hold but still actually praising you in that, Thragg dad way, "your stance is too weak to take down an opponent of my size, but you're improving" " your siblings usually tire by now; you seem to have more endurance than most of my other children your age. Excellent" and then your little baby mouth gives him a kiss on the cheek and he has to go subjugate another planet to feel manly again.

I feel like yandad Thragg and Nolan are unironically those characters that are like, they could be in the middle of a war zone and they're easily winning and you go upstairs to see what they're thinking about, surely they're thinking about something serious, and it's just "I need to hurry this up and get back to my child" or "I wonder what my little warrior is doing right now" like straight up like the father from Father I Don't Want This Marriage

Yandere Thragg and Nolan are all "oh it's part of the Viltrum way to mate and procreate and boost our numbers" and Reader comes along "hey dad this is my new boyfriend--" and suddenly they turn into like, Christian fundamentalists. "Um actually that Viltrumite male is even older than I am 🤓 you are still so young and should be enjoying the fruits of your youth 🤓 you are too young to have children"

I feel like though like if you ever did manage to sneak off and get pregnant or get someone else pregnant that, specifically Nolan would adore his new grand baby and would do anything for this chubby cutie 🥺❤️ also imagine the horror if he's not even your blood dad, just obsessive self proclaimed stalker yandere shit, but you can't run away from him and he's finds you and your baby and instantly declares himself grandpa, like. Now you have to worry about protecting yourself and your baby from "PawPaw"

So like. Future spoilers I guess? Not super significant in my opinion, but, there's a period of time where there's like a truce of sorts between Earth and Viltrum, right, to keep it vague and less spoiler heavy. Imagine being like, Nolan's kid, or adopted kid, or like, neighbor who turned out to be a hybrid that he yoinked into his house or whatever, and like, after there's been some fighting, Thragg is impressed with your strength and potential and seems to be scouting you out a little. Now you've got TWO older Viltrumite males trying to father you, "my apologies Grand Regent but I was just about to take this one out to teach them how to fly better" "that is unnecessary; i shall be the one to tutor the youngling" meanwhile you're just like uhhhhh I'm not actually a big fan of how EITHER of you treat me-"

bruhhhh all hell breaks loose when you finally lose it and fly straight off the planet to try and start a new life elsewhere without them cuz then these two are TEAMING UP and they're feeding into each other, "I bet they were convinced to leave by that one male, the one who we had to warn before" "and that's why you're weak Nolan. I wanted to kill him but you didn't want to hurt the youth's feelings, and now what's happened? They're probably eloping as we speak" "no, I won't make the same mistake twice. He'll die a slow death"

You're on like some alien planet surrounded by like simple little ewoks or some shit who treat you like a water god because you dug a well for them or something and here comes Thragg and Nolan touchdown slamming onto the planet's surface and leaving craters behind, scaring the birds, the animals, your new little cute alien friends huddling behind you for protection, and you're getting SCOLDED SCOLDED. like one minute your new little like moogle friend is teaching you how to bake some kind of bread and the next minute, "AND JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING HERE" and you're jumping to see two pissed pissed PISSED Viltrumites

"O-oh, uh, I thought I made it clear when I left--"

"The only thing that you've made clear is that you're too unpredictable and naive to be left alone"

"What were you THINKING?! You could've gotten lost, hurt, captured, or worse! And leaving Viltrum for, what?! Are these your pets? We can enslave a few and take them with us if you like em so much"

"If you EVER leave without my permission as Grand Regent again I'll reduce whatever backwater rock you stumble off to into nothing more than rubble floating through the stars, is that understood?"

"..."

"Answer him!"

'*sigh* yes, sirs"

"That's FATHER to you"

" - and Dad!"

#yandere invincible #yandere x reader #sinprompts #yandere stuff #these two always at each othsrs throats and then one day you just catch them sitting down talking about you #bonding over their. uh. attachment and surveillance of you

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phantomphangphucker · 3 months ago

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Phic Phight - My Hourglass and His Crown

For: @spacemomnephmoreau @bibliophilea @jessaverant

ClockWork has been around since the beginning, seen Ancients rise and fall, seen kings come and go. Yet there’s only one that truly means anything to them, only one they’re really willing to be involved in.

A being of the liminal folds between existence and oblivion, where endings begin and beginnings end, where stars are born and forgotten in the same breath, nothing and everything as a singularity. The God of Time sits in their citadel made of ticking clocks and winding gears, viewing screens of times past and times yet, times now and times never. They were an Ancient even by the standards of all other Ancients, their form cloaked in the purple sands of endless hourglasses woven in to fuzzy satin, a grandfather clock contained within a chest that’s seen eons before eons existed; a lone scar their only blemish, as time mars all, even time itself.

They were far too much for any other… though that was not quite true, became not quite true.

They had waited. Stayed objective, remained hands off. Passive and neutral. But still they waited, waited for a pair of eyes like twin spirals of galaxies slowly spinning down down down.

Down an impossible path. One of hope, and pain. One of happiness, and misery. One of freedom, and entrapment. One of genuine unadulterated contradictions.

They waited for the entrapment of the Mad High King of Ghosts, the God of Death and all that comes there after, the one who had ruled for eons himself, but as a cruel and violent fist. They helped his ascension, like so many others, yet did so with warnings of darkness; foretold only ages of Dark.

They had preferred the leisure and passivity of the previous god king, of the second god king. They could always appreciate freedom and wanderlust and apathy and neutrality. It is quite unfortunate that lazy days must be of the short variety, they must end long before any shall desire them to; and as such, they did.

And the first, the only god queen, was simply too fresh, too new, too weak. There was nothing for her and nothing to truly grow or glean from her. Forgotten to all and ineffectual to a fault.

Darkness gets vanquished, leisure always interrupted, and weakness squashed.

Wheels always turned. Things always changed. As that was the flow and marching on of existence, of time, of all. And yet… someone new could arise who denied just that. So they waited. Waited for that. For an impossibility. Watchful eyes called it foolish, insane, pitiful.

They hardly care. They never care. Instead they watch.

Time had been watching him. Watching with a cold detachment, like frost clinging to a corpse’s cheek. Time clinging and caressing his cheek as he became and unbecame a corpse. Formed and unformed against reality itself.

A young god, born of stars already collapsed yet visual still and mourning songs never sung, carved from the space between heartbeats and core pulses. He was not like any others. Alive and dead. Gone and not. Playful and drowning. Strong and broken. Where life or death had always been over a firm line, this one danced along it. Bled his pain down both sides of the wall, smearing it all over both sides and staining them with him. Revered, even before his own time, by those who whispered prayers into ice and danced through snow for lost souls. He came baring no crown, yet with life and death weighing down each shoulder demanding he drown in his impossibility. Treading water with playful waves and leisurely kicks, sometimes feigning at slipping below the waves before shooting back up to the surface, as if mocking the fabric of reality itself. Sometimes he slipped down a little too deep, sunk a little too far, yet always splashed back, always rebroke the surface; gasping and flailing, left barely able to function yet functioning still.

They loved every twist and turn the boy made and made and made.

They liked the way this new half-death played and fought bedside the dying and living, touching their hearts and souls with icy fingers gentle as falling ash filled with childish giggles. They liked the cheeky timbre of his voice, the way he spoke to ghosts as if they were old friends and good times. And they liked, perhaps more than they should have, the way he never looked away when Time entered the room. The burnt up burning star of a child always saw them and gravitated forwards.

They had never been anyone’s sun.

He made them his.

So when the dark mad High Ghost King’s own hourglass ran dry, Time had not mourned, they had merely turned the glass. Filled the glass, filled it up with galaxies of green and red littered with stars and laughs and cries. There was so much, he was so much, so impossibly absurd, that liquid teased at spilling over. Spidering cracks threatening to shatter everything.

A glass that needed a metal crown attached to the rim, clamping down, to add some height and hold firm the glass. Overflowed but not spilling, shattered but not breaking.

The realms trembled with the Ancient God of Time, one who sees and knows all, descending to the High Throne of Ghosts. All other Ancients vanishing like smoke, for even they know not to meddle in the affairs of these two. None of them with any interest in conversing with Time, one they see as simple constant given form rather than a being of their own.

Yet…the young almost god stood waiting, dark kimono-like robe trailing and hanging as if funeral veils, a silver thread of soul light white wrapping around his waist and neck, his hands and feet. He looks to Time and… he beams, face alight with joy and awe and relief and fear. Time understands, Time always does. Time… loves this child.

He does not kneel; Time had not asked it of him, never would.

“ClockWork-”.

No one else ever calls them by name. Not in anyway or from any mouth that matters.

“-You look more dressed up than usual? Gave your clock case a good spit shine!”.

They have never done such a thing. “But of course, Daniel”, turning to look out at the lands of greens and purples, “you’ve grown well”, Time’s voice deep enough to echo across centuries, “too well, perhaps. You’ve made me fond of you”.

The star who’s a sun tilts his head, “you say that like it’s a bad thing?”.

“It is”, Time admits, nodding, stepping close enough to ruffle the impossible star child’s hair, “affection breeds error. But also… it shapes futures”. They, Time’s personification, was never meant to shape, not truly.

They were going to make a mistake one day.

They never had.

They would.

They see it. They avoid it. They see it again.

And yet… for him they find they can’t help but not care.

He shakes his head, “hey I’m pretty sure my entire existence is one really big, really weird, error”.

It absolutely was.

Time shakes their head, amused, slipping a hand within their cloak, drawing forth a crown made of iced obsidian and starlight, shaped like the fractured ring of a collapsed star dripping upwards with ice stalactites. It hums with power, with finality; for this boy was a truly immortal thing. Death that lives, life that’s dead. For it, a crown that would not sit easily on the head of any Ancient; though shoulders already weighed down may see it as a mere evening out of pressure.

As such, when they place it upon Death’s brow, it settles like it has always belonged there. It… feels strange and cruel and mournful and beautiful to remove their fingers from it. To allow it to truly be a part of him. A tortured Prometheus, who brought Time true fire, thus proclaimed himself a god.

“You are an Ancient yourself now, High King now and forevermore”, Time exhales, “God of endings. Of memory. Of mourning. Of loss. Of exploded stars. Of corpses gone cold”.

Death speaks nothing at first, merely watches Time. Then, “and of all of time’s end results?”.

Time’s smile is small, hidden behind the shifting sands of their beard, “that, too. If you find you are enough”. He was always enough.

They stood there, the Ancient of Time and the Ancient King of Death, surrounded by a stillness that only they could share. And for a moment, Time lets the seconds pause, a simple time out just for themselves. To take in the star that made a sun of them, and them a son of him.

After all, what was the point of ruling time, if not to steal a little of it, now and then, for someone cherished?

End.

Prompts: Clockwork has seen Ghost Kings rise and fall, has even been instrumental in those things for more than one of them, but he has never been as involved with the ascension of any King quite as deeply as with this one Of all the beings Clockwork has cheated for, Danny is Clockwork's favorite. But what does it mean to be favored by the physical embodiment of time itself? "I held the power of a dying sun / I climb the altar and I claim my place as God!" - Circle With Me by Spiritbox.

#danny phantom #phandom #danny fenton #phic phight #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #fanfic #clockwork #Ghost King Danny Phantom #gothmoth #mentor clockwork

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uzumaki-rebellion · 11 months ago

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"Tethered to You" Chapter 3

Masterlist HERE.

youtube

"It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm

We can roll ourselves over 'cause we're uncomfortable

Oh well, the devil makes us sin

But we like it when we're spinning in his grip

Love is like a sin, my love

For the ones that feel it the most

Look at her with her eyes like a flame

She will love you like a fly will never love you again"

Massive Attack – "Paradise Circus"

Qimir guided the sleek Exile II onto an obsidian wave-cut platform in the middle of the night off the coast of his own personal island retreat. The tide was out and the uneven rocky land bridge that led to his secret cave was visible by starlight. He'd be able to carry Osha into his hideaway right away. She would have to get acclimated quickly on her own before he had to fly out again to meet his Master in person for a few days. On his return, he would begin her training. Sitting in the cockpit he looked at his hands. They quivered with the overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

He found his true acolyte.

Closing his eyes, he rested his body and mind, becoming calm enough to luxuriate in the winning of Osha's trust to come with him. The inhospitable cold outside seeped into the starship. He flexed his fingers to keep them warm. Nights by the sea often brought a stinging pain, enough to split tender skin and make it bleed. He tapped a button on his display to keep heat inside Osha's cockpit for a few minutes longer. He needed time to decompress from the long flight.

Mae had been a failure.

Qimir had just been a means to an end for the other twin. She didn't look far beyond the killing of the four Jedi. Revenge was enough with her shortsightedness, and although she desired for him to be her true Master, Mae lacked the passion and follow-through to see the bigger picture: Destruction of all Jedi.

Osha? Well, she had the passion and inner will to do more damage than Mae could ever dream of. He flicked a switch to get a visual on Osha in the dual cockpit on the opposite side. She slept for the majority of the trip, mentally exhausted from her ordeal on Brendok. Once they broke away from the planet fleeing directly to his uncharted one using the hyperdrive, she shut down completely. He didn't speak to her or offer words of comfort. She had to eat her pain the way he had to a long, long, time ago. Betrayal was a hell of a thing to endure, but at least she didn't have to make peace with it. He would help her cultivate that pain into power. His hands, that were much older than they looked, finally stopped shaking from the adrenaline rush of securing a lifelong prize.

The moonless sky hid them against the icy black waters of the sea. A sharp whistling of the wind outside produced a soothing Aeolian tone against the protective cockpit canopy. From high above, the Exile II would look like a simple sea-stack on top of more black-gray slabs. The starship blended into the surroundings and they were safe for now. No doubt the Jedi would interrogate Mae and plot to use her to find them. He wasn't worried. His mind-wipe would keep the holier-than thou's scrambling back in the Jedi Grand Temple on Coruscant.

He glanced at Osha's sleeping image. Deep breathing. No eyelids moving with dreams.

The dark force was heavy in her. How many endless decades had he searched for his perfect one? He had traversed across the vastness of space and time, and now that he had her, the real work could begin. Training her to be his other half. He wanted the power of two and Osha would give it to him.

His dick almost got hard thinking of all the damage they would bring to the galaxy. Two orphans tossed away by the Jedi would become the architects of their destruction. He grinned reveling in the pleasure of the thought.

The tide began to turn back joined by the curtain of thick white fog creeping across the horizon. It would swallow the land bridge and them in an icy shroud if he didn't move soon. He shut the starship down completely and climbed out of the left side cockpit. His windswept hair became slightly wet from the spray of saltwater tossing foamy liquid across the rocks. Osha remained in her deep slumber. He carefully made his way to her side and popped open her cockpit canopy using the Force. Holding his right hand outstretched, he focused his power on Osha and lifted her with his mind. She floated like a limp ragdoll high into the air and he guided her down into his arms. He nestled her head gently in the crook of his neck. Her hair smelled like something sugary and sweet he remembered eating as a youngling on Coruscant. The sea already added its brakish scent to the damp locs that tickled his chin. She seemed almost weightless and felt tiny in his arms, but the power within that compact frame pulsed around her aura. He lowered his face to smell her hair once more.

She was his.

He would nurture her mentally back to health first before crafting the proper regimine for her training. Seawater sloshed across his inky black boots. His cape and body heat kept her warm while he marched across the wet rocky bridge toward his hidden abode.

The uncharted planet he lived on was mostly rocky terrain of chained islands with large veins of cortosis in some places that he mined for himself and turned into the metal to craft his helmet and gauntlet. Fortunately there was an abundance of food sources in the ocean and on land with plenty of fresh water to survive. Because it was uncharted, it became a safe pocket of refuge for others who didn't want to be found. Scattered across thousands of miles of archipelago were a few folks of ill repute, but everyone kept to themselves except for those occasions when they visited a rough-hewn set of humans who ran a modest bar/watering hole on the largest landmass on the planet. It was a place to gather intergalactic supplies and Intel discreetly. A place he would have to visit in a day or two.

His home was carved from a large rock mass near the sea. He claimed the abandoned property for himself two decades previous and his Master approved. He found the original owner dead and petrified like wood at the entrance as if it had been dead for centuries. Qimir fixed it up with modern fixtures turning it into a lab of sorts. Solitude and privacy was his and stepping through his front door, the interior lights automatically came on based on his biometrics.

The interior was chilly enough for him to see his breath as puffs of condensation vapor. He carried Osha to his full-sized bed. The top blanket was rumpled but the sheets were clean. He placed her on it and unfastened her boots. Her outer clothing would help keep her warm until he had the cave at a suitable temperature. He fumbled with her body to get her tucked under the covers without waking her. She curled into the fetal position. Pulling the covers over her shoulder he paused to watch her slumber.

Osha had delicate full features and still looked fierce in her sleep. He sat at the edge of the bed and let his eyes take in her relaxed state. She would sleep for a long time once her body fully settled into its new environment. He knew this. It would be a deep down in the bones sleep from shedding the weight of her past. He used his index finger to push back the front of her bangs to see her forehead. She didn't have the spiral pale marking on her forehead that Mae did. His finger lingered on her skin before touching one of her individual locs. Firm, yet soft, it felt like the thick yarn that made the heavy sweaters he wore during winter inside the cave. On his planet it was nearing fall. Luckily, Mae left enough clothing and grooming supplies behind that Osha could use until he went out for full supplies again. He bent down to sniff the scent of her hair once more and she stirred in her sleep. He froze, fearing she would wake up and find him hunched over her like some pervert. Distance. Give her space.

He moved away from the bed and shucked off his damp cape and outer layers, hanging them on a rack near the entrance. Untying his boots he scanned his living space for anything out of order. Scavengers often flew to the planet, but none dared to bother him in that area. At least not yet.

His cave smelled of salt, damp bedrock and sea foam. The tide brought in waves that crashed against the rocks below them. He would sleep pretty well himself once he made a pallet on the floor. First task was to make a fire and he grabbed wood and kindling from the stack against the wall where he prepared his meals. Tangled fishing nets waited for his mending on the floor in the corner. He'd need to fish and collect more food in the morning.

With a good amount of wood stacked next to the deep fire pit surrounded by heavy obsidian sandstone rocks that were great heat conductors, he built a fire . He layered the wood in a pyramid shape first, placing enough tinder at the top to make the fire last all night. Qimir stared at the tinder and it burst into flames. He glanced behind him. Osha still slept. He wondered if she already knew the power of pyrokenesis.

He stood near the fire in the middle of the cave to make sure it burned evenly. Light gray smoke rose up and out of the ventilation he made in the cave's roof. Holding his hands out, he warmed his palms and rotated his neck to knock out stiffness. He reached for some dried fragrant sea moss and tossed it on the fire. The scent of the sea rose up and gave him tranquility in the moment. Clarity.

He peeled off the rest of his clothes until he was naked and distributed them with his outer layers to dry near the fire. There was a chest full of clothing across from his bed in the back and he padded there barefoot on the clean earthen floor to retrieve soft beige trousers that always hung low on his hips. He pulled them on near the bed, keeping his eye on Osha as he tied the drawstrings. She'd rolled over onto her back with her hair in disarray across her cheek. The scent of sea moss finally reached the rear of the cave and so did the slow transfer of heat.

Qimir wandered over to his fresh water supply inside an ancient wooden barrel. He ladled a glass and the refreshing coolness pulled a groan of satisfaction from his throat. Exalted from his journey, he smiled as drops of water fell from his moist lips. He pulled a piece of seasoned jerky meat out from his dry food cabinet and settled on a bench in front of the fire with his front facing Osha. The plans running through his head for her wouldn't let him relax fully by the fire. How could he when the ultimate gift was in front of him? Secure inside a cave no one from her world would find.

"Oh-shaaa," he said softly into the fire.

She moaned in her sleep. He gazed at her form on the bed.

She had to consent to everything he wanted each step of the way. His seduction of her on the island before had been slow and deliberate. It helped that she was already physically attracted to him, but her fragile state would have her questioning every move he made from here on out. He was a master manipulator and could seduce anyone easily; her sister had been proof of that. But Osha? She was a woman who had been deceived to the core of her being. There was no way she would fully trust him even though she accepted his offer to train with him. Physical seduction wouldn't work on her the same way. He had to capture her mind first. It meant he was pushing her to do what he wanted, however nothing would stick unless she said yes to him. And yes to him again, and again…and again.

He steepled his fingers together and held them under his chin. How far could he push her? Would she buckle and run like Mae did? That would anger him. The longer she stayed in close proximity to him, the more potent their connection in the Force would be. Their bond would intertwine and grow stronger over time. He had to admit that it chilled and thrilled him to the bone to watch her burn all of her anger and grief and pure unadulterated rage into the cracked hilt of Sol's lightsaber, bleeding the kyber crystal into crimson fury. Chilled him even more when she force-choked her former Master and father-figure to death. She was sublime. Ripe for the plucking.

Now he had her.

He would mold her.

Teach her.

"Mae!"

Osha's shriek wrenched his eyes away from the crackling heat of the fire. She bolted up from her sleep and glanced around in fear.

"You're okay Osha," he said moving toward her slowly, "you've had a bad dream. You're safe. Mae will be fine."

Fiery eyes took him in and he knelt down next to the bed.

"We're safe on my island. In my home. You need rest…shh…lay back."

Red weepy eyes stared at him with so much anguish. Wracked with sobs, Osha flung herself on the opposite side of the bed and wept into the soft pillows within her grasp. Her entire body convulsed in agony and he couldn't allow her to suffer alone like that.

Qimir crawled onto the bed and spooned around her. She jabbed his chest with her elbow.

"Get away from me! Don't touch me…don't you touch me!"

Her voice cracked and she wailed, still flinging her arm back to cause him pain too. He stayed still and let her release the first wave of pain until she was spent and nearly lost her ability to speak from all the crying.

"You will use this, Osha. There is power in pain—"

"Shut up! Shut your mouth! I don't want to hear anything…I don't want to hear your voice!"

She held her body in a rigid ball and wept for an hour. He simply stayed next to her making sure she didn't hurt herself like he tried to do once. The fire heated the cave up and it appeared to settle Osha into warm comfort. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. She didn't resist the touch, nor did she scream at him.

"It's not fair," she whimpered, "He took everything away from me and lied to my face for sixteen years. They took away the only people who ever truly loved me and my sister."

Her voice had a despondent tone he had never heard from her before. It sounded like giving up. Qimir wrapped a muscular arm across her waist and snuggled against Osha's back, pouring all of his warmth and strength into her.

"Sleep, Osha. I am here for you. Always. Remember that."

She cried softly through the night and he held her close, listening to her profound despair until she fell back into a pitiful sleep. The icy wind howled outside, but they were warm and cozy together.

He never left her side until the sun rose.

Chapter 4 HERE.

A.N.:

Look at me me posting a day ahead of my Friday Schedule! Enjoy!

#The Acolyte #Oshamir #Star Wars #Oshamir Fanfiction #Uzumaki Rebellion #Qimir #osha aniseya #osha x qimir

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selfless-solipsist · 6 months ago

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°˖✧ The Deed? ✧˖° [Hater]

「 ✦ “I—YOU—STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME EXPLODE!”✦ 」

╰┈➤ Lord Hater x Female Reader ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

(Suggestive themes, but trust me- this is pure fluff)

The bedroom felt like it belonged in a teenage goth's fever dream, with posters of Hater's own face plastered over the walls like he was both the rockstar and the fan. The neon-green glow of the plasma lights hummed softly, illuminating his messy pile of capes in the corner and a suspicious amount of half-eaten taquitos on his nightstand. It was Lord Hater’s “lair of love,” as he had awkwardly dubbed it. You had simply called it "a hazard zone for bad decisions."

And tonight? Tonight was no exception.

Straddling Hater’s hips, your smug grin stretched as wide as your patience allowed while the supposed “Greatest in the Galaxy” lay beneath you on his waterbed, flailing like a distressed octopus. You were wearing the closest thing to scandalous you could find—tiny shorts and a cropped tank top that barely clung to the notion of modesty. It wasn’t hard to get the upper hand here; Hater wasn’t exactly a seasoned warrior when it came to this kind of battle.

“Are you comfortable?” you asked, your tone so deadpan it made him even more nervous. His glowing neon eyes darted to anywhere but your face—or your…uh, other regions.

“Y-YEAH! TOTALLY FINE! HA! SUPER COMFORTABLE! NEVER BEEN MORE COMFORTABLE IN MY LIFE!” He wasn’t fine. He was the visual embodiment of “panic,” with his gangly skeleton limbs stuck mid-flail and his pajama pants bunched awkwardly around his shins.

You tilted your head like a predator sizing up its prey. “Uh-huh. You look relaxed.”

“I AM RELAXED!” Hater yelled, his voice cracking like a preteen trying to assert dominance. His hands hovered nervously over your hips but didn’t dare land. “This is going great! We’re…we’re doing it! Romance! Intimacy! THE DEED! Oh my bones, I’m gonna die—”

“Hater.”

“—which is ironic, ‘cause I’m already dead! Like, literally! But not, like, dead dead, you know? I’m just a skeleton, which means—”

“Hater.”

“—DO I EVEN HAVE THE ORGANS FOR THIS? WHAT IF I EXPLODE?! WHAT IF I’M NOT GOOD AT IT? WHAT IF—”

“HATER!”

“WHAT?!” His voice hit a pitch that could shatter glass. His glowing green pupils shrank to pinpricks as he froze beneath you, hands flailing dramatically.

You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I haven’t even done anything yet. Breathe. If you can.”

He sucked in a fake breath for dramatic effect, only to wheeze it out seconds later. “I KNEW YOU WERE GONNA SAY THAT. But, uh, can we talk about logistics first? Like, uh, how does this even work? I mean, I’ve read things! Not like, weird things—actually, yeah, weird things—but, uh…”

“Oh my stars,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “Did you Google it?”

Hater’s silence was deafening.

“You Googled it.”

...

“NO! MAYBE! SHUT UP! It was for SCIENCE! And besides, what else was I supposed to do?! You’re all, like, ‘oooh, I’m mysterious and experienced,’ and I’m just here like a clueless bag of bones—”

You couldn’t help it; you burst out laughing. He immediately crossed his bony arms over his chest, pouting like a child caught sneaking cookies. “Stop laughing! This is serious business!” he whined, stomping one foot against the mattress for emphasis, which only made him look more ridiculous.

“Oh, it’s serious all right,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“CUTE?!” he bellowed, practically vibrating with indignation. “I AM NOT CUTE! I AM EVIL! TERRIFYING! LORD HATER, THE GREATEST IN THE GALAXY—”

“—who’s blushing so hard right now that I think your face is going to catch fire.”

Hater sputtered, his jaw clacking shut like a trap. His green aura flickered in betrayal as he buried his face in his hands, muttering a string of incomprehensible complaints that might’ve included the words “never living this down” and “stupid sexy villainess.”

“Listen,” you said, planting your hands on either side of his ribcage and leaning in, your voice calm but tinged with amusement. “You don’t have to overthink this. It’s just me. Same me who wiped guac off your skull last Taco Tuesday. Same me who carried you bridal-style out of the Skullship cafeteria when you slipped on a burrito.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Hater wailed, his voice muffled behind his hands. “It was a WET FLOOR! You try maintaining balance when your feet are THIS BIG!”

“Uh-huh.” You tapped a finger against his sternum, which elicited a startled squeak. “Point is, you’re not impressing anyone by being the ‘Greatest in the Galaxy’ right now. I like you just the way you are—awkward, goofy, and apparently obsessed with Googling—what was it, ‘can skeletons…’?”

“STOP!” he begged, his hands shooting up in surrender as though you were holding him at comedic gunpoint. “DON’T FINISH THAT SENTENCE!”

You smirked, leaning closer, practically nose-to-nose now. “What? ‘Function in—’”

“NOOOOOO!” He threw a pillow over his head like it would shield him from the embarrassment. His muffled voice emerged, cracked and frantic. “I REGRET EVERYTHING!”

You snorted and pulled the pillow away, tossing it aside. “Hater. Look at me.” He hesitated, then peeked out like a spooked cartoon character. “This is supposed to be fun. Not a science project. You don’t need to memorize diagrams or research cosmic anatomy.”

“YOU SAY THAT LIKE IT’S EASY!” he burst out, sitting up slightly but still trapped beneath you, flailing one arm dramatically while the other gripped the blanket. “Do you have ANY idea how hard it is to not, uh…uhhh…” His words trailed off, and he waved vaguely at you, his eye sockets darting everywhere. “…you know! With all THIS going on?!”

You tilted your head, clearly enjoying his meltdown. “Oh, you mean my general aura of irresistibility?”

“Yes! That!” He gestured wildly again, nearly knocking over a nearby lava lamp. “It’s…It’s too much! You’re too much! My brain—or, you know, the equivalent—just…just shuts down when you’re this close!”

“Flattering,” you said with a grin, settling your hands on his bony shoulders. “But if you don’t stop vibrating at the frequency of a broken blender, you’re gonna combust.”

“Combust?!” His jaw dropped, his neon aura flaring briefly. “Is that a thing that happens?! DO PEOPLE COMBUST?! WHY DIDN’T GOOGLE TELL ME THIS?!”

You leaned back, laughing so hard that tears formed at the corners of your eyes. “Oh, Hater, you absolute disaster of a skeleton.”

“STOP LAUGHING!” he whined, his hands flopping uselessly against his sides. “You’re making this worse!”

“Worse?” You wiped at your eyes, finally calming down enough to lean in closer again, this time planting a quick kiss on his nasal ridge. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t mess this up if you tried.”

“W-Wait…” He froze, the green in his eyes flickering slightly. “…Sweetheart?”

You blinked innocently. “What? Not used to pet names?”

“Well, yeah, I mean—no! I mean—UGH!” He covered his face again, practically melting into the mattress. “Why are you like this?!”

You leaned down, your smug grin softening into something more genuine. “Because you’re worth it, even when you’re a total dweeb.”

“Am not,” he mumbled weakly, his voice small.

“Are too,” you teased, resting your forehead against his. “Now quit overthinking and enjoy the moment.”

“Okay, but, like…” He shifted nervously, his voice a whisper. “What if I mess up? Like…big time?”

You smiled softly, cupping his face. “Then we laugh about it. Together. Deal?”

He hesitated, his neon green gaze meeting yours. Then, slowly, a lopsided grin crept across his skeletal face. “Deal. But, uh, just…maybe give me a heads-up if I’m about to do something stupid?”

“Trust me, I will,” you said with a wink.

For the first time that evening, he seemed to relax. Well, until his foot twitched and knocked over the lava lamp. “WHOOPS!” he yelled, scrambling to catch it, only to knock over the taquitos in the process. You couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out as chaos erupted once more in the lair of love. He on the other hand scrambled to salvage the remains of the taquitos, scooping up the debris like he was handling priceless artifacts. “NOOO! NOT THE TAQUITOS! THEY WERE LIMITED EDITION!”

“Limited edition?!” you cackled, clutching your stomach as you watched the “Greatest in the Galaxy” cradle the soggy tortilla remains like a tragic hero mourning his fallen comrades. “Hater, they came out of a freezer box!”

“NOT JUST ANY FREEZER BOX!” he howled, glaring at you with all the fury his glowing eyes could muster. “These were…these were…uh…” He hesitated, looking at the destroyed snacks like they might whisper their secrets. “…Fiery Fiesta Flavor!”

“Fiery Fiesta Flavor?” you deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “Wow, that’s…culinary genius. Truly, your tastes are as refined as your pickup lines.”

“HEY!” He jabbed a bony finger at you, his indignation puffing up like a blowfish. “My pickup lines are legendary! You fell for them, didn’t you?”

You snorted, crossing your arms as you leaned back on your heels. “Oh, yeah. ‘Did it hurt when you fell from…somewhere? Probably the cafeteria? 'Cause you’re, like, tall.’ Real Shakespearean, Hater.”

He spluttered, his glowing aura flaring in mortified bursts. “W-Well, excuse me for not being a professional wooer! You’re lucky I even tried!”

“Tried?” you teased, leaning in close enough to make him flinch. “Sweetheart, you tripped over your cloak and landed face-first in your nachos.”

“That was STRATEGIC!” he insisted, crossing his arms and turning his skull dramatically to the side, like a soap opera villain. “I was…uh…distracting you! Yeah, to throw you off your game! Classic Evil Overlord Tactic #87!”

“Uh-huh.” You leaned back on his legs, tapping your chin like you were considering his words. “And the part where you screamed ‘SAVE ME, MY LOVE!’ while the Watchdogs hosed you down with cheese dip?”

“…Improvisation,” he muttered, the green of his eyes dimming as he sulked.

You laughed so hard you nearly toppled off him, clutching his pajama-clad knee for balance. “Oh my stars, Hater, you are just…you’re priceless.”

“YEAH, WELL…” He sat up straighter, waving his arms like an angry conductor. “AT LEAST I DON’T…uh…wear shirts that are basically two shoelaces tied together!”

You gasped in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically on your chest. “How dare you insult my impeccable sense of fashion?”

“IMPECCABLE?!” He gestured wildly at your outfit—or lack thereof—with a mix of panic and indignation. “YOU’RE BARELY WEARING ANYTHING! How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re—when you’re—!”

“Distracting you?” you supplied smugly.

“EXACTLY!” he bellowed, pointing at you like you’d just proven his case in court. “How am I supposed to be the intimidating Lord Hater when you’re over here, all…all…”

“Say it,” you challenged, your grin widening.

“All HOT AND STUFF!” he yelled, his voice cracking like a firework. Then he immediately slapped both hands over his nonexistent mouth, his green aura flickering like a faulty lightbulb. “I MEAN, UH…EVIL! ALL EVIL AND STUFF!”

You stared at him, your grin practically splitting your face in half. “Aw, Hater…did you just call me hot?”

“NO!” he shrieked, flailing again and nearly falling off the bed. “SHUT UP! I TAKE IT BACK!”

“Oh, you definitely said it,” you teased, crawling forward to trap him against the headboard. “Admit it. You think I’m hot.”

“NEVER!” he declared, but his voice cracked again, betraying him.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you said with a laugh, leaning down so your noses (well, for Hater where his nose would be) nearly touched. “But maybe next time, try saying it without sounding like a dying space rooster.”

“SPACE ROOSTER?!” he exclaimed, his hands clutching his nonexistent heart. “HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY VOICE?! My voice is…is…iconic!”

“Iconically screechy,” you shot back, flicking his cheek.

Before he could respond, the lava lamp—which had been wobbling dangerously on the edge of the nightstand—finally gave up the ghost and crashed to the floor with a spectacular splatter of neon goo.

Both of you froze, staring at the mess.

“…Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “at least the taquitos aren’t lonely anymore.”

Hater let out a dramatic groan, collapsing back against the pillows like the universe itself was conspiring against him. “This is a DISASTER!”

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. “Nah. This is us.”

Then, you raised an eyebrow, still straddling Hater as he dramatically threw his arm over his face like some fainting Victorian maiden. The room was a mess, half-eaten taquitos, the green liquid on the floor, and the lingering sound of your laughter. But then, a mischievous idea crept into your mind. If Hater thought he was flustered now…well, you were about to crank it up to eleven. “So,” you drawled, leaning back slightly and trailing your fingers up your sides in a way that was anything but innocent. “Since we’re here, and we’re all…prepared…”

Hater’s glowing eyes widened, his entire frame going rigid as you reached for the hem of your shirt. “W-WAIT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he yelped, his voice hitting a pitch that could probably shatter the Skullship’s windows.

“Relax, drama king,” you said with a smirk, your fingers toying with the edge of the already scandalously short fabric. “Just…getting comfortable.”

“COMFORTABLE?!” he screeched, scrambling to sit up so quickly that his oversized pajama top bunched around his ribs. “THAT DOESN’T LOOK COMFORTABLE! THAT LOOKS LIKE—LIKE—”

“Like what?” you asked, your tone as innocent as a supernova. “What does it look like, Hater?”

“LIKE YOU’RE ABOUT TO—TO—AAAAAAH!” His panicked shriek interrupted him as you began lifting the hem of your shirt a fraction of an inch. And just as you were about to give him a real show, his bony hand shot out like a rocket and slapped yours away with a loud CLAP.

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. “Did you just—”

“I PANICKED!” he wailed, clutching your wrist like it was some kind of lifeline. “I—YOU—STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME EXPLODE!”

“Explode?” you repeated, your lips twitching as you tried—and failed—not to laugh. “Hater, sweetie, if this is enough to make you explode, we’ve got some serious endurance training to do.”

“ENDURANCE?!” he repeated, his entire body flailing as though the word had personally offended him. “WHY DOES THAT SOUND LIKE A THREAT?!”

“It’s not a threat,” you said, leaning forward until your faces were inches apart. “It’s a promise.”

His jaw fell open, his neon green aura flickering wildly as if his very soul was short-circuiting. “YOU CAN’T JUST SAY STUFF LIKE THAT!” he yelled, slapping his hands over his face to block you out. “I NEED A WARNING! A DISCLAIMER! A—A MANUAL OR SOMETHING!”

You tilted your head, tapping a finger thoughtfully against your chin. “You know, I think I saw something like that in one of your weird comic books. Should I go grab it?”

“NO!” he practically screamed, his hands flopping uselessly against his sides. “JUST—JUST STAY RIGHT THERE AND STOP BEING ALL…ALL…”

“All what?” you pressed, grinning like a cat toying with a particularly twitchy mouse.

“HOT!” he burst out, immediately clapping both hands over his mouth like the word had escaped on its own. “I MEAN—NOT HOT! DEFINITELY NOT HOT! YOU’RE JUST…INTENSELY WARM!”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer absurdity of his phrasing. And then, once again, you dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, collapsing onto his chest and clutching his pajama top for support. “Intensely warm?!” you managed between gasps, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Oh my stars, Hater, you’re killing me!”

“GOOD!” he snapped, glaring down at you with all the indignation a flustered skeleton could muster. “MAYBE THEN I’LL FINALLY GET SOME PEACE AND QUIET!”

You wiped at your eyes, still grinning as you propped yourself up on his ribcage. “Oh, come on. Admit it—you love this.”

“I love NOTHING!” he bellowed, his voice cracking halfway through. “I am EVIL! HEARTLESS! TERRIFYING! And also, uh…” He paused, his glowing green eyes darting anywhere but your face. “…very confused.”

“Confused, huh?” you teased, settling back onto his lap with a smirk. “Want me to clarify things for you?”

“NO!” he yelped, throwing up his hands as though surrendering to your chaotic energy. “YES! I MEAN—UGH! WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!”

“You mean besides you?” you said innocently, your grin growing wider as his aura flickered like a malfunctioning lightbulb.

“OH MY GROP!” he wailed, flopping back against the pillows like a dramatic Shakespearean character. “I’M NEVER GONNA SURVIVE THIS!” You were just about to tease him again when he suddenly shot upright, pointing an accusing finger at the air like he was in a courtroom drama. “You know,” he began, his voice rising with the energy of someone about to launch into a conspiracy theory, “I wouldn��t even be in this mess if it weren’t for that STUPID forum!”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “…Forum?”

“YES! The one I found while, uh…RESEARCHING,” he said, the word “researching” dripping with defensive air quotes. “I was looking for, uh, information, and SOME ABSOLUTE IDIOT DECIDED TO PICK A FIGHT WITH ME!”

“Oh no,” you said, biting back a grin. “Who would dare challenge the mighty Lord Hater?”

“EXACTLY!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “It’s like they didn’t even KNOW who they were talking to! I left them a totally reasonable comment about how skeletons OBVIOUSLY have the superior anatomy for, uh, certain activities—”

You snorted. “Reasonable. Sure.”

“—and then THEY had the NERVE to respond with all this mushy, sentimental CRAP about ‘connection’ and ‘trust’ and how ‘the heart is what really matters.’ UGH!” He threw his head back like the memory physically pained him. “What kind of weirdo says stuff like that?!”

“Sounds like a real nightmare,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What did you say back?”

“Oh, I told them off, of course!” Hater declared, puffing out his chest like he’d just won a Nobel Prize in stupidity. “‘Cause they were all like, ‘Oh, LordHaterFan420, maybe you just need to let love guide you,’ and I was like, ‘MAYBE YOU NEED TO LET A DOOR HIT YOU ON THE WAY OUT!’”

You blinked, barely able to process what you were hearing. “…LordHaterFan420?”

“IT’S AN ALIAS!” he barked defensively. “Anyway, they kept coming back with more of that same wishy-washy garbage, like, ‘Love isn’t about being perfect, it’s about being there for each other,’ and ‘You’re braver than you think!’ Like, WHO TALKS LIKE THAT?!”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, fighting the urge to laugh. “Yeah, who does talk like that?”

“And THEN—get this—they had the AUDACITY to sign off with ‘Hope you find what you’re looking for, friend!’ Like we’re FRIENDS or something! I don’t even KNOW THEM! I told them they were the WORST, and you know what they said?”

“What?” you asked, genuinely intrigued now.

Hater’s voice dropped into a mockingly sweet tone, his skeletal face contorting into a grimace. “‘That’s okay! I’m rooting for you anyway!’ CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!”

...

“Wow,” you said, nodding seriously. “What a horrible person.”

“I KNOW, RIGHT?!” he yelled, flailing his arms. “Who says something like that to a guy who just insulted them?! It’s like they were trying to…to make me feel bad or something! UGH!”

You leaned forward, narrowing your eyes slightly. “You know…this ‘absolute idiot’ sounds kind of familiar.”

“No way!” Hater scoffed, crossing his arms. “I mean, they were WAY too nice to be anyone I know. And they mentioned having a house, so it DEFINITELY couldn’t be—”

“Wander?” you finished, watching his aura freeze mid-flicker.

Hater blinked. “What?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You know, Wander? Little orange guy? Hat that defies the laws of physics? Pretty sure he doesn’t have a house, though. Not unless you count Sylvia.”

“PFFFFT!” Hater waved you off, laughing nervously. “No way that was Wander! Wander doesn’t even have INTERNET! He’s, like, a hobo or something! Besides, he wouldn’t…he wouldn’t…” His voice trailed off as realization slowly dawned on him.

“Oh my stars,” you whispered, your grin widening. “It was Wander, wasn’t it?”

“NO!” Hater yelled, his aura flaring violently. “SHUT UP! IT WASN’T HIM! THERE’S NO WAY!”

“You argued with Wander on a forum,” you said, barely able to contain your laughter. “And he called you his friend.”

“TAKE THAT BACK!” Hater screeched, shaking his fists like an enraged toddler. “WANDER IS NOT MY FRIEND! HE’S MY ENEMY! MY NEMESIS! MY—MY—UGH!” He collapsed back onto the pillows, covering his face with his hands. “WHY IS EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE TERRIBLE?!”

“Terrible?” you teased, leaning down so your faces were only inches apart. “You’re dating me, remember?”

“YEAH, WELL, EVEN YOU CAN’T FIX THIS!” he whined, peeking at you through his fingers. “I ARGUED WITH WANDER ON THE INTERNET! I’LL NEVER LIVE THIS DOWN!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, your grin downright wicked now. “I’ll make sure you don’t.”

“NOOOOOO!” Hater’s anguished wail echoed through the room, his voice cracking and rising in pitch until it could probably summon bats from orbit. His arms flailed wildly, the dramatic thrashing knocking over what was left of the taquitos and dislodging a precariously balanced stack of comic books.

You leaned back, arms crossed, grinning like a villain enjoying their masterpiece. “Wow. A meltdown worthy of the ‘Greatest in the Galaxy.’”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR SARCASM RIGHT NOW!” He screeched, his glowing eyes blazing like neon fireflies on a sugar high. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS?! IF WANDER WAS ON THAT FORUM—THAT MEANS—THAT MEANS—” He flailed harder, his voice dropping to a horrified whisper. “—HE KNOWS!”

“Knows what?” you teased, leaning on your elbow with an air of exaggerated innocence. “That you called him the worst and he still rooted for you when you wanted to woo me?”

“STOP SAYING IT!” he bellowed, grabbing a pillow and smacking himself in the face with it repeatedly. “THIS IS A NIGHTMARE! I’LL NEVER RECOVER!” As if on cue, the glowing lightning bolt emblem on Hater’s bony hand lit up with a buzz. His “phone,” a cursed feature he insisted was “cool,” but mostly served as a one-way ticket to more headaches, came to life. The unmistakable voice of Commander Peepers crackled through, sharp and irate.

“SIR!” Peepers snapped, his tone so biting it could slice through steel. “What in the galaxy is going on? I’m trying to work, and I can hear your screaming all the way from the command center!”

Hater froze mid-flail, clutching his glowing hand like he could somehow muffle it. “P-Peepers! It’s not what it sounds like!”

“Oh, really?” Peepers deadpanned, clearly unimpressed. “Because it sounds like you’re throwing another one of your tantrums while I’m over here trying to keep this ship from imploding.”

“I AM NOT HAVING A TANTRUM!” The skeleton screeched, his voice cracking spectacularly.

“Uh-huh,” The Watchdog replied, the sound of furious typing clicking in the background. “And what exactly are you screaming about this time? Did you lose another ‘evil lair’ auction on SpaceBay?”

“NO!” Hater snapped, his aura flaring green again. “It’s worse than that! MUCH WORSE!”

“Worse?” Peepers sounded genuinely exhausted. “What could possibly be worse?”

“He—” You leaned forward, your grin downright malicious as you interrupted. “—found out he argued with Wander on an internet forum.”

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

“…What?” Peepers finally said, his voice slow and flat.

“It wasn’t him!” Hater yelled, clutching his glowing hand as though Peepers’ disapproval could somehow physically manifest through it. “IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN HIM!”

“Oh, for stars’ sake…” The smaller villain groaned, and you could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nonexistent nose. “Sir, do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?”

“It’s not ridiculous!” Hater protested, his voice rising again. “He was all like, ‘Hope you find what you’re looking for, friend,’ and—OH MY BONES, IT WAS HIM, WASN’T IT?!”

Peepers sighed heavily, the sound of his frustration carrying through the connection like a weighted sigh of the universe. “Let me get this straight. You were arguing with Wander—on the INTERNET—about…what exactly?”

“ANATOMY!” Hater screeched, instantly regretting it as you burst into laughter next to him.

Peepers was silent for a beat, likely wondering why his life had spiraled into this moment. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m not even surprised.”

“You’re supposed to be on MY side!” Hater whined, flopping dramatically back onto the pillows.

“I AM on your side,” The other man snapped. “Which is why I’m calling to tell you to stop yelling like a lunatic and ACT LIKE A LEADER!”

“But—”

“No buts!” Peepers barked. “And while you’re at it, tell your girlfriend to stop encouraging you.”

You gave the phone-hand a two-finger salute, still grinning. “Encouraging him is half the fun, Peepers.”

“Yeah, well, don’t come crying to me when he accidentally declares war on the Galactic Peace Federation because he’s ‘flustered.’” His voice was flat, but the weight of someone who had dealt with this far too many times. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, SOMEONE has to actually run this ship.”

The line went dead, leaving Hater sulking and muttering, “I don’t need him anyway,” as you laughed so hard you nearly fell off the bed.

After a moment, your boyfriend just lay flat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with the defeated air of someone who had just lost an intergalactic chess match against a feral squirrel. “This is officially the worst day of my life,” he groaned.

You, still perched comfortably on his lap, couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

“WASN’T THAT BAD?!” he screeched, sitting up so fast that you nearly toppled backward. “I got called friend by my greatest nemesis, Peepers yelled at me—AGAIN—and now you’re probably going to make fun of me for the rest of eternity!”

“Rest of eternity?” you mused, pretending to think it over. “I mean, that’s a long time, but yeah…sounds fun.”

He let out a dramatic groan, collapsing back onto the bed. “I give up. Just end me now.”

“Not happening, bones-for-brains,” you said, poking his ribcage with a finger. “But maybe…” You hesitated, your smirk softening into a genuine smile. “…maybe we can save the ‘big moment’ for another day. You know, when you’re not emotionally traumatized by the internet.”

He peeked at you from behind his bony hands, his glowing eyes flickering uncertainly. “You’re not…mad or anything?”

“Mad?” you laughed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his nasal ridge. “Hater, sweetie, you’re more fun flustered than you’d ever be smooth.”

“I AM smooth!” he protested weakly, his aura flickering in embarrassment.

“Uh-huh.” You patted his skull affectionately before sliding off his lap and grabbing his glowing hand. “Now, come on. Let’s do something we’re both good at.”

He blinked, his confusion clear. “What’s that?”

“Causing chaos,” you said with a wicked grin, falling down beside him on your back as the water bed made you bounce slightly. “If Wander’s out there spreading sunshine and rainbows on the forums, it’s only fair we balance the scales with some good old-fashioned trolling.”

His jaw dropped, his aura flaring with sudden excitement. “Wait…you mean—?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and putting in your password. “We’re diving headfirst into the depths of online chaos. Fuzzballs and sunshine lovers, beware.”

Hater’s eyes glowed brighter, and for the first time all evening, his grin returned. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“I know,” you said smugly, leaning into him as you searched through the forums. “Now, let’s see…what should our alias be? ‘TotallyNotHater420?’”

“NO!” he yelled, flailing. “Make it something evil! Like…like…‘SkullKingDoomBlaster9000!’”

You snorted. “Subtle. Very subtle.”

“Hey, subtle is for losers!” he declared, grabbing your device and frantically jabbing at the buttons. “Now type it in, and let’s show those fuzzy weirdos who’s boss!”

And so, the night that had started as a romantic disaster turned into a legendary session of forum chaos. Together, you and Hater flooded the internet with ridiculous insults, absurd gifs, and enough caps-locked rants to make any mod cry. Somewhere out there, Wander was probably smiling, completely oblivious to the chaos he had unintentionally inspired.

And Hater?

For once, he looked genuinely happy, cackling like the villain he always claimed to be. Sure, the “deed” could wait for another day—but for now, this was your idea of a perfect night.

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