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myreia · 5 months ago

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Sketches of Times Lost

Day 10: Stable

something is sparking between aureia and sidurgu, and they can't seem to see it. but rielle can. sidurgu x female warrior of light (pre-relationship), mentions of aymeric x wol. set during stormblood patches, but after the lvl 60-70 drk quests. rated: teen 2086 words ao3 link

“…when I said you could accompany us back to Ishgard, I didn’t mean for it to become a godsdamned holiday.”

“Resting at an inn is not a holiday.”

“And this isn’t a sight-seeing trip!”

“It’s fine, Sid! It’s one night! Is there something wrong with one night?”

“It’s dangerous, that’s what. For her, for you, for me.”

“Dangerous from whom, exactly? The Empire’s been all but routed from Gyr Abania. Besides, I don’t think many in patrons would consider confronting two dark knights head-on, and those that could would be drunk out of their minds. Please tell me you’re not afraid of a drunkard.”

“That’s not—godsdammit, you can be a right bloody bonehead when you want to be, you know that, eh?”

Rielle sighs and leans forward in her saddle, patting Filo’s neck. The chocobo chirrups, his head tugging on the reins as he leans into her hand, enjoying the feel as she pets his shiny black feathers. The day has stretched on and on, the road getting longer with every step, Baelsar’s Wall shadowing the horizon and somehow never getting closer, the dusty heat growing intolerable in the Gyr Abanian haze.

If she were younger—or travelling alone, let’s be honest—she would have pelted Sidurgu with the oh-so-tempting “are we there yet?” question, but for now she holds her tongue. Though Sidurgu has dragged her from one end of Coerthas to the other, even trekking into Gridania on the rare occasion, this is the furthest from Ishgard she has ever been. Her rear and legs may ache from too many hours in the saddle, but even with Sidurgu and Aureia’s endless bickering, she can’t remember a time she was this happy on the road.

She doesn’t want it to end.

She’s being selfish, she knows. Like a little kid—an actual little kid, thank you very much—asking for another five minutes at their favourite park, or clinging onto a favourite toy that has long since fallen apart. Sidurgu wanted them to return on their own, without company. He didn’t say as much—not aloud—but she saw it in his eyes when tending to his wounds. If he wasn’t stuck leaning against a rock, moaning and groaning and complaining about her fussing over him, he would have taken her and stalked down the road the moment Aureia’s back was turned. So, she struck at the opportune moment, piping up before he could say or do anything, and pointedly asked her—“You’ll come back with us to Ishgard, won’t you?”

She didn’t answer right away. There was a crease in her brow, a downcast turn to her eyes, and in that moment Rielle feared she would say no. But then she brightened, a warm smile spreading across her face, and she said—“I suppose I must. I’m going the same way, after all.”

That was yesterday. They walked for a time, Filo puffing and panting beneath Sidurgu’s weight before it became too much for the chocobo. The poor thing was the runt of his flock—Aureia’s told her the story many times—incapable of carrying an Elezen cavalier let alone a massive Au Ra in full plate armour and with a greatsword to boot.

And so they camped early, finding a spot beneath a single sprawling tree. Leaving Sidurgu to make the fire—he insisted, it was the one thing he could manage without aggravating his wounds—Rielle and Aureia hurried down the slope to the little rippling stream. Rielle wasn’t much help; she splashed in the water, giggling and free, scaring away the fish Aureia tried her best to catch. A waste, maybe, but neither Aureia nor Sidurgu told her off for it. She was too busy enjoying wading in the stream herself, and he… well. Rielle is certain he was looking at her a different way. Or maybe the same way he always has. Or maybe…

They had the last of their rations that night, laughing and smiling around the fire. It did not feel like a rationed meal.

And now today. Aureia suggested she ride Filo instead, leaving her and Sidurgu to walk ahead. Rielle was thrilled—still is, even though she is hurting all over now. She has never properly ridden a chocobo before, and Filo is such a pretty bird. The hands at the Holy Stables call him mean and difficult—he has a legendary grudge against one of the Scions, the Hyur with the white hair Aureia makes weird faces when he’s mentioned—but Rielle thinks differently. Difficult, no. Misunderstood? Maybe.

She knows what that’s like.

But now the sun is slowly sinking toward the red-brown peaks, and they really are going to have to find somewhere to stay or camp. They’re approaching a crossroads—literally. Up the hill and over the ridge, there’s a little inn with a wide stable for chocobos and warm, soothing lights in the windows. The perfect place for a trio of weary travellers.

But of course Aureia and Sidurgu can’t seem to make up their minds.

“Happy to be a bonehead, then, if it means someone here has the voice of reason,” Aureia says.

Sidurgu snorts, but Rielle knows better. Even when his back is turned, she can hear him trying not to smile—and his tail is curling. Sometimes she wonders if it’s the same sort of thing as those girls in the Forgotten Knight when they twist their hair around their finger while making eyes at Gibrillont. He only does it around her. Maybe he doesn’t even know it.

No matter how testy their bickering gets, he likes it. He used to bicker with Fray, too.

“You know those are incompatible,” he mutters. “Bonehead. Voice of reason. Not exactly the same thing.”

“What can I say? I’m full of contradictions. A right paradox, maybe.”

“Bloody hells, you can say that again. Here I was thinking you had put aside your greatsword for good when you all but kidnapped us on this little hol…”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh, good. And here I thought you said holiday for a moment.”

He lets out a long sigh and passes a hand across his face. “Aureia…”

She flashes him a grin.

He glares at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Aureia, please. Don’t make me laugh. I’d rather not bleed through my bandages tonight.”

From their position several paces behind, Filo chirrups and throws a look over his shoulder, his dark, beady eyes staring at Rielle. She shrugs and pats his neck. “I know,” she whispers. “I think they’re both being boneheads. What do you think?”

Filo chirps again and shakes himself from side to side in fervent agreement.

“Yes, exactly.”

Aureia raises her arms, her hands brushing the hilt of her greatsword as she pulls her hair back and twists it into a knot. It’s different from the messy, uneven crop she sported when Rielle first met her, long enough to brush her shoulders. There’s a bit of red in it, too, which Rielle doesn’t remember. She didn’t have that when she first came to Ishgard.

“The inn is a good option, Sid,” she says. “Give Rielle a normal night for once instead of sleeping on the ground again.”

“I know that, I simply—”

He pauses, bowing his head to look at her. The difference in height between them would be quite funny, if only height wasn’t such a sore spot. Rielle huffs, making a face. Aureia may be half-Elezen, but she did not inherit their height. Is it a sore spot for her, too? Rielle hasn’t thought to ask her.

“All right, out with it. Don’t think I don’t know you, Aureia, this isn’t about the inn or Rielle. You’re hanging onto something.”

“I… am I?”

“You don’t want to go back to Ishgard, do you.”

It isn’t a question. An accusation? Something else?

His voice has dropped low, not quite a whisper. Rielle rises a fraction out of the saddle and leans in, straining her ears to catch the conversation.

“Maybe. Yes. Perhaps.”

“Aur.” He rests a hand gently against her shoulder and their pace slows. Their boots scuff the road, a cloud of dirt puffing around their feet. “What’s going on?”

His voice is calm. Firm. Steady. The kind of voice he has after she has a bad nightmare, but not quite.

“It’s nothing, it’s…” Aureia lets out a long, sad sigh. Rielle tugs sharply on the reigns and Filo hisses in protest, jerking to a stop some feet behind. “There’s someone I must meet with when I return.”

“I see.”

“And I would… rather not.”

A pause. “I suppose the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords and the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights is a difficult man to ignore.”

“He can be, yes. Especially when you’re…” She pauses again. “Fuck. Let’s not pretend I even know what we are anymore. He asked me to marry him and I couldn’t even say yes.”

“Would it be too much to say that I am glad of that?”

“Sid—”

“Damned if I even want to know what you are to him. And I know all too well—very well, in fact—that this is not my place and not my business, but I will say what must be said if no one else will. If you need to hear it. I do not like who you have become with him. I’m sure—Temple Knight aside—he is a pleasant man in his own right. And it would be unfair to accuse him of anything malignant, I know that is not his way. And I do believe you love him, or have loved him—”

“Sid…”

“Past or present, my point still stands. You have chased something with him. Something that has brought you joy, yes, but also great sorrow. From what I have seen, from what you have told me… I believe you must become someone else to remain with him. And I do not believe you will ever be happy becoming that person. If the pair of you were in different circumstances, if you were different people…”

“If he wasn’t the Lord Commander and I wasn’t the Warrior of Light?”

He meets her eyes, his horns casting a shadow across his face in the glare of the setting sun. “If he weren’t a politician and you weren’t the Alliance’s war hound.”

She inhales sharply. “You didn’t have to put it that way.”

“Someone bloody well should have. There are a dozen places you should be rather than wandering the Gyr Abanian wilderness with a surly dark knight and a teenaged girl. A dozen people who need you more than we do. So what other reason was there for all of this, Aureia? A soul crystal cracked? Or an excuse to run?”

A pause. “I don’t think I can talk about this now,” Aureia says quietly.

Sidurgu lets out a long breath. His hand slips from her shoulder. “I’m sorry, that was… harsher than I intended.”

“Don’t be. You were only saying what you thought. And what I’ve thought for some time. Sometimes I think you’re the only person who makes any damn sense.”

“Oh, so is that why you keep finding reasons to come and find me? You’ve long since outgrown the Forgotten Knight.”

Her hand brushes his. “That’s not the only reason.”

He smiles.

Rielle yelps and tips forward, clinging to the reigns.

Filo chirrups shrilly, wings spread wide as if to catch her. She clutches the reigns and pulls herself upright just in time, her cheeks flushing red as Aureia and Sidurgu turn around, both instinctively reaching for their weapons.

“Rielle!” he calls, releasing the hold on his greatsword’s grip. “Are you all right?”

She steadies herself. “Fine!”

“Don’t test the bird. I don’t want you getting thrown out of the saddle—”

“Don’t test your wounds, Sid, I don’t want them re-opening before tomorrow at the earliest if you can help it.” She smirks, proud of herself for the quip, and nudges Filo with her heels. He trots forward, giving the pair a smug look as he trots by. “Let’s go to that inn, shall we? If I deserve a bed for the night, then Filo deserves a stable, don’t you think?”

Sidurgu and Aureia exchange looks, both of them trying very hard not to laugh.

Grinning with triumph, Rielle tucks her hair behind her ears and leads them up the hill and down the path to the inn.

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #writing tag #myreiawrites2024 #sidurgu orl #rielle de caulignont #aureia malathar #sidwol #sidurgu x wol #stormblood #drk spoilers

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thatoneadhdseabunny · 3 months ago

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Meet My OC! (Part Four)

For most of her outfits, she had Yellow as her main color, but I had tons of ideas for her, and lmk if you all want to see what these outfits looked like, I sketched a lot of ‘em, but for now, I'll just kind of describe what each one looked like.

PS: Some did change, some probably will change in the future :)

Pheonix Drop High S1/S2- Obviously, at school, she had her uniform, but she’d add little friendship bracelets to her wrist for each friend she made. (Though she didn’t give everyone the matching friendship bracelets until later, the first one to receive one being Aphmau.)

But outside of school, she tended to wear a brown oversized hoodie with black leggings. White headphones sat around her neck if they weren’t sitting atop her head. She wore white high tops, hand embroidered with little sunflowers on them. They weren’t good by any means, but they were handmade, and she loved them to death.🌻🌻🌻

Falcon Claw University- Her freshman year is rough, mentally and physically, so she just walks around in a black hoodie and some cut off shorts with rips in them. Her feet still clad in those sunflower shoes, though they don’t fit her anymore. You’d never guess she majored in fashion design.💛💛💛

Mystreet- A combination of her outfits for the last few years: The yellow hoodie from high school, though she usually perfers it unzipped now showing off a little sunflower motif on a white slightly cropped T-shirt. She always wears her cutoffs that somehow still fit from college, and will usually be seen in flip flops, and her nails are almost always painted a pretty green, so she can fidget when she needs to, and stop biting her nails like Aaron keeps telling her.

Love~Love Paradise- Kawaii~Chan insisted she pick a two piece. She should’ve listened to her gut. This season, she draws more attention to herself, in a pastel yellow halter Bikini with a white bottom skirt, also seen in flip flops. She’s also constantly wishing she could find a cover up. Although, she does tend to have Garroth’s arm around her shoulder… maybe that’ll warm her up.

Lover's Lane- It was a terrible choice on her part. She should’ve gone with KC and Katelyn. But she’s never been known for being smart. So as she sits, hiding in her room, trying to find a new pair of shoes, to match her of the shoulder yellow sweater and the white skirt that she tends to wear. Her Sunflower ones have been out of commission for a while now. Maybe she should get some new shoes at Mall Day?

Emerald Secret- Wears jeans with one of Garroth’s old sweaters and a white scarf, though said scarf doesn’t stay white for much longer.

Starlight- She finds a blue slightly cropped halter top to wear over her black bikini and she tends to pair it with a pair of dark blue denim shorts and she totally stole her flip flops from Melissa (don’t tell her though.)

When Angel's Fall- She wears Garroth’s Jacket from high school. He gave it to her two years back when she’d come over for a Frozen marathon, and she wears it whenever she’s stressed. She wears it over a pair of white shorts and a black tank top. She misses the good old days when she didn’t have to worry about how durable her outfit was.

[New!]

One Last Time- She has one of Garroth’s old T-shirts, or even jackets on at all times. With everyone still healing from when Angel’s fall, I don’t know what she’s supposed since [Redacted] would change everything for her.

{Side Rant- Tbh. I have yet to put any thought into this one, because season 7 is actually coming? And I'm excited about this, because (FINALLY !!!!!!!!!) I am a normal human being.]

#garroth romeave #garroth ro'meave #garroth x reader #mystreet garroth #aphmau mystreet #oc #aphmau fanfic #aphblr #aphblur #aphmau #miami lycan #The Beta Ultima

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rosetintedgunman · 1 year ago

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LIAM JACKSON

One thing I've always been transparent about is this: the Wilford that's on this blog wasn't supposed to exist in his timeline. William was supposed to die.

For the sake of good manners, I'm putting everything under a read-more.

Everything would play out as intended, until William and Abe first confront one another. It's tense, but Abe shoots first. He was aiming for the shoulder to try and disarm William. Knowing the soldier would be able to kill him instantly, he pulled the trigger too fast... and hit William in the neck instead.

William died almost instantly.

Celine wasn't supposed to be there. She was never meant to interrupt the confrontation and distract from the intended scenario. Her arrival meant that others were killed or gravely injured, while the one who was supposed to die survived.

But in this timeline...? William dies. There's another argument, but the Manor's influence has subsided.... And everyone else walks out the front door and into the safety of the external grounds. Alive. Safe. Traumatised, but they survived.

There's no Attorney stuck in the mirror. No Dark. No one driven mad from ten hours of mourning and watching death undo itself. Nothing. Just the missing corpse of the actor, and a dead soldier.

William's body is left alone while the others wait outside for the authorities. A brief investigation is undertaken to confirm what was said was true. But before the body can be taken away, it too vanishes.

The Actor sneaks out stage right in the stolen corpse.

As for William? Well... He was stuck alone in the Void. There's no looping hellscape here. No need for it. Instead, he's stuck in the same space as Mark's corpse. He can leave whenever he wants! Gosh, if only he had the magical skills to do that. But he doesn't! And he has to wait. For months. Until he absorbs enough of the Manor's energy to amplify his own abilities, ultimately claim and reshape the corpse, and push himself back into the world of the living.

His trust is gone. He paid that price to get out (I'll explain that properly for Dante another time). He's a soldier, completing his tasks on his own, getting revenge on those that wronged him - starting with setting the Manor on fire.

This... Is Liam.

He looks a little worse for wear. The bullet went into the side of his neck and out the other side. Though the entry and exit wounds are covered over now, the damage is done. The nerves related to the brachial plexus were damaged, essentially leaving his left arm paralysed and permanently drooped. However, he CAN move it, however wonky the movements might be, and this is solely through using his powers to manipulate his limb to bypass the use of the nerves. He won't tell anyone this unless he learns how to trust another again and let hkmself be vulnerable. Because of this, the only presence of a red glow is in the area from the left side of his neck to his left hand.

He also has no pupils visible. There's no reason for this. They're unharmed, but lacking them makes it harder to read his expression. If they do appear, they're simply black dots. His skin is pale grey, the eyes are essentially dark grey, and the pupils would be black, so there wouldn't be too much overlap there.

His scarf was taken off during the initial examination of the body and was removed from the site. His glasses, however, were dropped by mistake when he was burning the Manor.

The jacket is ripped. Some parts, like the left collar, were torn to try and lessen his pain when he first woke back up. The ends were pulled off when it got snagged. All medals have been ripped off, but he still wears the dog tags.

Liam spent a long time in the Void alone, and then longer after that on his own. Because of this, he doesn't talk a whole lot. If he does, it's to the point. His voice sounds a little hoarse from lack of use.

That's all I can think of for now, and I'm very tired. I'll leave you with this second sketch I quickly finished when I got home a little earlier.

Finally: why "Liam"?

Simply put, it's an alternate way to shorten the name "William", and it's one that no one used in life. People who knew him would be less likely to join the dots if they heard the name "Liam" in passing.

#(remember: my Will was intended to be the villain. It's why my Dante is so bad at it #it was never meant to be him)#just the intern (ooc)#on the tablet #(anyway I'm off to get some sleep)#liamcanon

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ceejaykayess · 1 year ago

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The long awaited sequel! Super-cute Cyber-girl AI-Ball Ene, at your service! I kid, I kid, I know no one saw the last post, because it didn’t get posted under the tag for some reason… ah well, second try’s the charm.

After hearing that next year’s Dazecon would be our last, it sorta kicked my ass into gear to get some more of these Kagepro ideas off my chest and onto paper. So, Ene, our deuteragonist to our beloved protagonist (derogatory).

I had a lot of thoughts ever since the first picture on how I wanted to draw Ene’s cyber form. Given Aiba and Tama’s designs, we have something of a base to work off of, but we need at least one more game for me to confidently declare what is and isn’t a pattern. What we can easily tell, at least, is that AI-Balls have white hair and and dress in mostly black and white. And while Ene does do the latter, she… doesn’t do the former. Why? Well… maybe you can figure it out?

But in terms of her design, while I mostly stick to her regular design, the things I want to point out (because it might not be super obvious with my image quality) are the glowing strands in her hair, a blue one in her fringe, a red one in her left pigtail, and a white one in her left. I suppose you could call them remnants of what should have been… I also want to point out her outfit- it’s skin-tight from the neck to the waist, the skirt being a part of the bodysuit. The sleeves are, almost ironically, like Miku’s in that they’re detachable. And the most AI-Ball feature to her are the tech veins that compose her legs, as opposed to generally lacking them as in most Kagepro material.

I made Ene’s gel form a rabbit, in consideration of those mini-sketch comics I read yonks ago that drew Ene’s pigtails as being like hands for her since hers are in her sleeves always. Also, I thought it’d be funny if the first time Shintarou saw it, he’d consider renaming her to Tono in honour of his rabbit.

In case it’s hard to read, the shocked Ene in the top right is saying, “Master! MASTER! Oh no, he can’t hear me, he’s wearing his Raycon:tm: Earbuds, supremely comfortable for all your needs-” The little sketch in the bottom right, of Shintaro face down in bed and Ene in rabbit mode on his bedside table, reads, “Get the fuck up Master, we’re goin’ to the amusement park today!” “Ene, I’m dying…”

Here's a link to the first picture of Shintaro that never posted properly. And here's a link to the follow-up Yaki picture.

How long had she been wandering? She wasn’t really sure. Sure, if she looked at a calendar, or even just the UI on near anyone’s digital device, she’d see that it had been a year, more even. But that wasn’t really what she meant.

When she first opened her eyes, she had a purpose. She wasn’t wandering- she was seeking. She wasn’t on a Journey, she was on a Quest. She had to find them, had to know what happened to them, because if she were here, like this, then the others, then he had to be-

But though she had a Quest, she had to figure it out, her newfound capabilities, how to parse the sheer amount of information that tried to force its way around her, through her, tried to twist the information that made up herself-

And by the time she had come to a balance with her newfound self, body made of numbers and pixels instead of blood vessels and organ systems, what she had been seeking had become old news, hearsay that was washed under the waves of time and new information and new tragedies and new things for people to talk about. The longer it took, the deeper the information was buried, and the deeper it was buried, the longer it would take for her to come and go.

But eventually, after months and months, 8 months and 17 days and 9 hours and 21 minutes and 2 seconds, 3 seconds, 4 seconds, she had bounced from Wiki article to Wiki article, dug through news archives, dragged herself through Towitter discussions and arguments dated around that August 15th, and a bit after, she had learned and pieced together thus: Three people were marked as dead. 14 people were injured, 9 of which being detained as members of the syndicate that caused the explosion. There was no mention of who died, or even of the state their bodies were in. There was no specific mention of their fourth, her annoying kouhai who was so bitter, who brought everyone down despite his brilliance, who everyone loved despite his acidic tongue and obvious disdain, who she hated because of how much it felt like she were looking at a mirror, her kouhai who was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by rubble and mumbling things she could barely understand being in such a terrible state herself-

She felt herself lose it, the desperate, fickle hope she held in her oversized jumper, because what does it matter? For all intents and purposes, she was dead. As far as she was aware, as far as anyone was aware, her best friend was, too. Maybe even her kouhai. And her-

And-

That kind boy, the one that irritated her so, the one that she wanted to see every day, the one that made her feel this terrible, terrible way, he too is-

Gone. They’re all gone. So what’s the point? Her Quest was over. And she couldn’t even delete herself, backspace over the 1′s and 0′s that composed her new existence. She was too much of a coward to throw herself at a virus and let it have its way with her. She could just stay here until eventually this webpage rotted away, but the longer she stayed in proximity to this information, to this reminder, the more she felt like she needed to expel the non-existent contents of her non-existent stomach. So she ran. She left. She tried to separate herself from her name, from the life that could no longer be hers, that simply was no longer.

She wandered.

How long had she been wandering?

…

Long enough that she felt nostalgic, at least. Long enough that she’s actually contemplating her current course of action, long enough that she’s following through on that course even as she contemplates the wisdom.

Her current location, digitally, was in the mainframe of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Her destination was downstairs, 5 floors underground in fact. The Advanced Brain Investigation Squad. Her… former squad, to put it a way. She followed along the flow of data from the routers to the elevator, holding and holding and holding on to the connection as she sunk deeper and deeper and deeper until she felt like she might actually suffocate despite not needing air, before feeling the next router and leaping for it, bringing her all the way down to the abyss.

Taking in deep gasping breaths of nothing that still let her feel like a human, she looked around. The ABIS mainframe wasn’t anything special. Tunnelled far as hell away from anything else, sure, but nothing special. So much for the stupid old man and his so-called “professional coding skills”. Feh. She’s seen message boards with more interesting encryption.

Despite her trash-talking, she still looked around curious as she wandered deeper. Jumping from computer to computer, camera to camera, she saw how much the place had changed in the last year. Or rather, how little it didn’t. It was like she had never left. Eventually she came across a concrete room with a familiar sense of decoration that made her want to spit and laugh and scream and cry-

Which was immediately blown away when she looked down on the room’s occupants. There was, of course, the room’s owner and decorator, with his scruffy brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail, holding his iconic lab coat rather than wearing it, glasses askew and face looking as if he hadn’t slept or washed his face for days. His cybernetic eye, pupil the same as his remaining brown one, stared deep into the eyes of the person that had her stopping short, looking again, re-evaluating and readjusting, checking the feed and the system and refreshing everything, video and audio, again and again, just to make sure she wasn’t being deceived, that the person she was seeing was really who she thought he was.

“-is that understood, Shintaro?” “…I understand, old man.”

His voice was somehow more unbearable than usual, his face lacking its usual stern and uncaring look. It was loose, and flabby. Like he didn’t even care enough to pretend to not care. Instead of the red coat her best friend was so fond of, or even the black suit he was partial to, he stood in just a white shirt, arms bare. He was missing an eye, a scar covering the eyelid, one that made her think of a boy reluctantly in red, facedown in a puddle of the colour.

“Oi, I told you already, call me Boss, y’got it brat!?” “Mm.”

Barely acknowledging him, he turned away, making his way out of Boss’ Office, as the namesake would have you call it. Without thinking, she began to follow after him, but was stopped when she heard the old goat mutter something.

“Give me strength, Ayaka…”

Whispering the pained prayer, the man she always thought of as an unreliable lout that only ever got moving when he was being put under threat stood, donning his lab coat and fixing his glasses. Reaching into it, he withdrew a small sphere, chockful of electronic components- very similar to the one in his own eye, actually… or rather, based on it. He gave it a long look, and so did she. What was he planning…? Her musing was broken by his clenching of his fist and replacing the orb, muttering tomorrow as he moved out of the room- down the hallway and towards his lab. The opposite direction of Shintaro.

Shintaro.

Almost without thinking, she turned around, searching for the apathetic genius, that damn ikemen that couldn’t take a hint for the life of him. The hallway was lonely, and he was never very fast, so she caught him easily halfway towards the elevator. She hesitated. She had already seen more than she expected, more than she even wanted. She had expected the old man. Hell, maybe some part of her even expected to see reference to the others, pictures maybe. She hadn’t even gotten to look at their old workplaces, at her old work bench where she fiddled with her Evolver- she didn’t even know if her Evolver was still around.

But she hadn’t expected a man, no, a brat she thought was dead to be walking around with the living. She shouldn’t follow him. She wanted to check on her Evolver, see if Mr. Tateyama had improved on anything in the last year, see if the three of them are still remembered. She doesn’t even like Shintaro that much anyways, if he knew she was spying on him he’d just scold and scream at her like the ungrateful punk he is-

But even so, she follows him anyways. Jumps to the data in his phone, barren and new, clenched in his hand. She’s only doing this because the other two would have wanted her to. Not because she wants to.

And so, she watches as he rides the elevator, not once glancing at his phone. She watches as he hails a cab and asks for an address that, after a quick search, she finds is set in Tokyo, not Chiba. She watches as he sits silently through the whole ride, rudely ignoring his chauffeur’s attempts at conversation and instead looks with almost a sad look at the cityscape passing him by. She watches as he pays the driver, walks up to the rundown looking building, sighs, and opens the door. She watches as he nods at the tired 30-something reclining against a couch in the foyer, walking up the stairs until he comes up to a door. And she watches as he silently pulls out a key, opens the door, and skulks to his room. She can’t see anything else out of the narrow view the phone’s camera offers her, but it looks like he’s trying to be quiet. Could there… be someone else here?

And eventually, he enters a dark room. He makes for the bed in the corner, planting himself on the mattress, and looks down. In his hands, his phone, and thus she, face towards him. He looks into the screen, and for a moment she felt panic. Did he see her? What was she going to say? How does she explain it- anything? Would he even care? As she opened her mouth, prepared to speak through the microphone-

He slumped his shoulders, sighed, and closed his eyes. “Damn it,” he mumbled. He rubs his eyes, and places the phone down. Whatever he does next is a mystery, as the phone she’s in is can only see up and down, and half of that is unavailable to her on a flat surface. She feels out, and finds a computer to connect to. She shuffles over, and finds herself in a much roomier space. Taking care not to activate the screen, she peeks through the camera to see… him, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. She stared at him for what must have been a reasonable time before turning away- she wasn’t going to get anything out of him, not like this, and not without announcing herself, which- she still hasn’t thought on whether she actually wanted to, let alone how. So, instead of being productive and thinking on it, she turns back to the files on his computer and, invasion of privacy be damned, went scrounging.

His internet history, nothing but 2channel, various forums she also used to browse, anime piracy websites, and the occasional risque website search. She held back on this occasion, she didn’t need to know. Yet. Around certain dates, he would even search up strange things like gift ideas or idol showing tickets. Weirdo.

Outside of his history, there’s his documents. A lot of deleted drafts, the occasional downloaded risque image (legs, huh? Is that why she had always…?), and a lot of editing software. A lot of editing software. What was all this…? She found unfinished music projects, which she wouldn’t dare listen to while he’s still here. Poems that trailed off, half-thought out lyrics written here and there. The occasional poorly drawn picture, and… photos. Lots and lots of photos. Some in a file labelled “Never forget.” Others labelled in a file called “Never forgive.” The former was full of pictures of… them. Shintaro, and her, and… and Ayano, and Haruka, their faces ones she hadn’t even realised she had begun to forget until this moment. Them in high school, their first meeting at the school festival, group projects and study groups, sleepovers and festival gatherings- their first day at ABIS, too. And, not just that. Pictures of Haruka drawing, of herself fiddling with the Evolver or a game she was practicing, Ayano hard at work on a test or humming while folding paper cranes- none of these were taken by Shintaro, she was certain, but he collected them all anyways. There were even more besides.

Some of a bright little girl with searing orange hair, the barest similarities to Shintaro in her face and the strongest in her eyes (he had mentioned a little sister, didn’t he?), others of that bright girl next to him and a woman that looked older than both but even more similar, even older ones of a young boy and girl that could only be those two standing hand in hand with that same woman and an older man. Pictures of a cute white rabbit (Tounou, wasn’t that her name?), of the old man, and of old and familiar places. Their school, that bridge, even the one game convention they all attended.

She… didn't know how she felt about it. Leaving that, she opened up the other file, and found… pictures of that place. As it was before the explosion, and as it was after. Documents detailing changes, listing occupants and suspects and those connected to the members they captured, pictures of them with friends and family, all connected together by a metaphorical red string in the document that centres around one simple question: Where are they?

She… really didn't know how she felt about it. He hadn't let go or moved on, he hadn't been wallowing- he was on just as much of a Quest as she had been. As she still could be. Closing the file, she looks through the camera at her kouhai's slumped form, thoughts running through her mind…

…

He left the building bright and early the next day, once again holding tightly onto the new phone. And once again, the two of them found themselves returning to their old workplace. She wasn't certain of what he was here for, but she could guess. As he made his way out of the elevator and towards the old man's so-called lab, the Psync Room, she felt even more certain of her prediction.

And eventually, standing in front of the jacketless boy, was the old goat she had once called teacher, looking just as rumpled as yesterday but at least clad in his lab coat. And in his hand, as expected, was the small orb filled to the brim with cybernetics. He began to explain what exactly was in his hand, an AI-Ball he called it (the shitty punster he is), and started rattling off features like different vision wavelengths, internet access, and most notably, an AI companion to keep him company.

This piqued her attention the most. Someone to stand by his side and help him out, to protect him as he tries to protect others. A partner… and one that can't die, by virtue of their existence being backed up on the so-called Wadjet System. To her, it sounded like…

An opportunity.

As the old man rambled on, she tried to feel out the AI-Ball. For such a supposedly high-tech piece of equipment, it felt rather… undefended, from threats such as her. Then again, she doubts anyone could've expected a sapient AI to be floating about. Or maybe they'll add some better antivirus later… hopefully. Pushing through some gaps in the firewall, she found herself in the core of the device. Looking this way and that, she tried to familiarize herself with her new housing. Looked like audio was here, here was video, here was… AR projection? And… a neural link, a gel formation, a shock response, and- a self-destruct??

Before she could really parse through all that (seriously, why so many abilities??), she found herself stumbling on… well, what she should have expected, really. An AI, young and unassuming. And asleep. It lacked an appearance in this digital world, merely a bundle of code vaguely shaped like a person. If she was going to do what she had to do, then she had to… get rid of it. There was no way she could hold control while the AI this body was made for was running around too, but… well, it felt a bit like murder to her. But that was silly, this wasn't a person, just an AI, with no life to speak of, and no memories either (she steadfastly ignored the stupid, stupid old man's remarks that the AI-Ball would grow alongside him to become his perfect partner).

She had to do it. She had to. For Shintaro. For Ayano. For Haruka. And maybe even a little bit for herself, too. She raised her hands and stepped toward the nameless AI, preparing to unravel the lines of code holding it together, preparing to scatter its 1's and 0's into the Cloud, preparing to deprive it of the chance to become its own person- and stopped. She- she couldn't. She just- she was callous but not cruel, the last year hadn't changed that. It had made her energetic in a way she never could consistently be in a body but tired in a way that was deeper than her bones, but it hadn't made her a murderer.

But still she had to- to do something. Maybe, maybe they could share, or-

"Well, go ahead and put her in, Shintaro."

And then suddenly the neural link was being opened and the AI was opening its eyes, slowly generating an appearance just from the barest hints of Shintaro's psyche, body becoming more defined, hair appearing and growing long, down to the waist, and-

She panicked. She reached out with her hand and pulled, binding and zipping the core of the AI down as she hurried, ignoring the voiceless cry as she reached out with her other hand, grabbing the neural link and-

Then she was twisting and writhing, her body being compressed and stretched out, information not native to her forcing its way in, connections to something beyond, a Mother that was not her mother, her form changing, blue becoming white and she could hear him, his thoughts, feel his sorrow, his confusion, his annoyance, his apathy, and she opens her mouth to scream-

And then it all faded away, assimilated with her, and she felt different, but she still felt like herself, and she opened her eyes and looked out through a single eye, taller than she had ever been (silently, an eye coloured #fa3c3e shifted to a hue constantly transitioning from #55edfe to #0e2652), and-

"I can… see. Thanks, old man."

"Oi! I already told you, call me Boss! Hell, I'll even accept you calling me by name, anything's better than old man!"

"Mm. So, what was that about an AI companion?"

"Eh? You can't hear her? Strange, maybe she's a bit shyer than I expected. Let me just-"

The old goat made motions towards the AI-Ball, and she quivered, she had to do something, else he'd see that she isn't meant to be here, but what could she- oh, duh!

"I-it's nothing to worry about! Sorry!"

"Eh?"

Her kouhai looked this way and that, scratching his head. He almost looked scared.

"Did… you hear something, old man?"

"…no? Oh, is that the AI-Ball?"

"Yep yep, that's me!" She tried to centre herself, she needed to land a good introduction so they don't suspect a thing. Briefly, her mind recalled a conversation she and her best friend had about this dense bastard, and decided to follow through in her unspoken plea. "Super cute cybergirl AI companion Ene, at your service, Ma-su-tah~"

Alright, maybe that was a bit much, but sue her! She was panicking, and needed to keep him off kilter!

"E-eh? Ene? Super cute?? Master??? Old man, what the hell kind of AI did you stick in my head!?"

The old goat raised his hands in defence. "Hey, I didn't do anything. The AI-Ball determines its personality based on what's best for you. Is there something you need to tell me, young man…?" He raised a brow mockingly, barely suppressing a gross smirk.

Her… guh, Master blushed red, shaking his head frantically. "N-no! And- and it's barely even been few minutes, how could she know what's best for me!?"

He shrugged. "That's just her opinion. Maybe you'll feel more comfortable with it in a few months."

"A few months!?" Her Master went bug-eyed. Pfft, if only she could see his face… "Hell no, get this thing outta me!"

"Aw, Master, that's so mean… sniff sniff… am I really so deplorable?" To try and strike it home, she used the AR projection feature, placing an image of her newly reformed cyberself before him, now detachable sleeves covering her face as she shakes and shivers. After all, this guy…

"Guh… f-fine."

Was an absolute pushover.

"Alright, that's great to hear brat! Now get out of here, I'm busy. I'll be seeing you here next week for you to resume your apprenticeship, so make sure to send me any emails if any issues pop up with her."

With his piece said, he turns back to the rows of computers, completely ignoring Shintaro. Her Master, still shaking off his flush, turns away and grumbles. As he stalks his way down to the elevator, Ene felt out his being, the rush of thoughts on her, on Kejirou, on the past, on the future, all blended together with his embarrassment, his frustration, his exhaustion- it was all rather dizzying to her. Maybe if she were truly an AI, designed for this sort of relationship, it wouldn't be so hard. Silently, she tried to mute the connection, grunting when she saw that wasn't an option.

As he entered the elevator, he slumped against the back wall, riding it up to the ground floor. He's silent, so she is too, not really sure what to do.

"Hey, Ene."

She jumps. That wasn't ever a thing she expected him to call her.

"Yes, Master?"

He winces, but shakes it off. He stands silent for one beat, two, three, and she almost thinks he's ignoring her before he continues.

"…let's get along."

Ene stared blankly. That was… probably the most polite he had ever treated her. She smacked her face- now wasn't the time. Make a good first impression. Even so, she couldn't help the way her voice softened a bit as she said her first genuine sentence as Ene instead of as the ghost of Takane Enomoto.

"…yeah. Let's get along… Master."

#ai the somnium files #kagerou project #art #ene #aitsf #Her centre stance is based on her pose in the Meka Trio's portion of the anime OP #Her face in the top right is based on a frame from the Summertime Record MV #This story got right the heck away from me it's way too long #I messed up and didn;t realise reblogs didn't count as posts that would appear in the tags in and of themselves #I should have because that explains why I never saw reblogs when I was scrolling through a tag's history rather than my feed but alas #Also I decided Fraying was dumb; this story just works on the Snakes

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sundaysstrawberrykombucha · 9 months ago

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ONE NOTE! LET'S FUCKING GO!!! (this is a very long post)

Actually, you'll probably want to know about Belle as I continue the skunk HRT, she's going to show up a LOT. WARNING! This is probably going to be longer then the "do you like the color of the sky" post.

Okay! For those of you who don't know, THIS is Belle!

At least, my artistic rendition of her. please ignore the fifth finger, I've only just been getting back into drawing, so I'm a little rusty on things that I tend to omit

Annabelle Heights: She's an anthro, bi-pedal, striped skunk. She typically wears faded green cargo pants, and no shirt. She HATES shirts, but she also doesn't have anything to really "show off" and most of her torso is covered by a mantel that drops down to the top of her pants. she's two toned black and white, the white being on her belly and her stripes that start on her face and go all the way down her back, joining back at the tip of her tail. She is about 50% tail, as well. We've also, recently, realized that she has some lion influence as well, because her ears, muzzle, and teeth are very catlike, and the mantle of fur she sports around her neck and shoulders is very mane-like. She's was my first headmate, and quite possibly my best friend.

That all being said... We're not sure WHAT she is. I CREATED her. I actively made the decision that, fifteen years ago, I was tired of being alone and so I was going to make an "imaginary" friend, and had a character from a wannabe comic that I could use.

literally the oldest drawing of Belle that I have. probably one of, if not the, first. Belle... Exists. She manifests in the physical world around me. I can "see" her to an extent (the same way one could 'see' and apple they imagine on the table). To some limited degree I can hear her, feel her, interact with her. She is VERY bad at fronting, but is so strong in her own personality that when disruptive thoughts barred me from being able to communicate with my other alters, recently, she was STILL there. She has been through so many emotional problems and through all of my anxiety and doubt, always there to do her best to help me, tell me, things are going to be alright. She also reminds me she's not real, and uses the fact that she ISN'T real to do very not real stuff, like go through walls, levitate, teleport... You know... Things to keep me humble to the fact that she's still completely made up, and completely in my head.

again, at least fifteen years old. Many things have changed, she's lost the collar, and her stripes have changed. She *has* gotten a bit more curvy as well...

So... She's a tulpa? Maybe? Again, we're not sure, but compared to the other alters that have introduced themselves, she is completely unique in her origin, and roll she plays.

just a sketch page of old old Belles, I STILL can't get the forward facing look correct.

So some interesting facts about Belle.

1: She literally told me her name. Me and my mom were driving around one day, and as she was talking about our cat, and how she was named one thing, but Mom had started calling her "Belle," I legitimately heard a voice in the back of the car say "that's my name." I had to look in the back to make sure, but obviously she wasn't there.

2: She was only supposed to stick around until I got a girlfriend... Well, sorry girls, she's staying even after that now.

3: The moment we realized that she had achieved autonomous thinking and a full personality that I KNEW I wasn't in control of was when I was showering, and she made a joke that I laughed at... And then realized I didn't make the joke, she did.

4: Although bad at fronting, like our other alters, we did, once, wake up with Belle fronting. It was a weird situation where when we pushed ourself out of bed, and looked at the arm and hand doing that, we got dysphoric and confused that it wasn't covered in fur. That's something that I hadn't ever felt, and after some thought, we realized it was her that was at the front at the time.

Roy was supposed to be a character in a comic that was going to feature both him and Belle

So to call Belle and alter or even a headmate isn't exactly... Correct. That being said, I can still call myself a system because a few others HAVE introduced themselves to me, and they're the ones who actually act as alters. They have an easier time fronting, they live in our head, they all have their own look, but they can't actually manifest in the physical space like Belle can. It's a very weird situation. Belle, also, has been getting a LOT of "first-child-now-has-siblings" jealousy towards the others. Afraid of being forgotten, or even just so similar to the others. Wondering what her role actually is, and envy that others have been able to get me to do stuff that she has literally yelled at me to do, but hasn't had the ability to do so (again, bad at fronting, unlike the others). It's been a learning experience for both of us, since I'm honestly REALLY new on the whole "system" thing (literally, if we don't include Belle, the first alter actually introduced themself this year after a bad thing that happened with a friend.)

A much newer, and updated Belle that I drew while working at a register in retail. I have a TON of these pen drawings, and this was a VERY favorite pose of mine to draw.

Belle also has some envy on not being able to front like the others. For the last fifteen years, it was something that both of us didn't want her to do to help keep my head appraised of the fact that she wasn't real. That was the big thing that we both agreed on when I made her.

If I ever started thinking she was real, she'd remind me otherwise... And vice-versa.

So we haven't really thought of her fronting, and actually USING the body, instead we focused on how we could take her from the headspace and superimpose her into the real world. I wanted a friend that would stand next to me, not someone who could take control if I couldn't handle something...

At some point I switched from three stripes to two, which is much more skunk-like

I guess that leads to the point. WHY did I create Belle in the first place? And the answer is simple. I was incredibly lonely. I had just graduated high-school, and none of my school friends kept in contact with me. It was before I got into any social media (Facebook was still in its infancy, and I didn't like myspace). I had taken a third shift job, so I was awake through the night and slept through the day, and my job only had me working with three other people!

I literally interacted with NOBODY, and it BOTHERED me SO MUCH! I wanted someone, NEEDED someone. I WANTED SO MUCH for a friend to be there, for someone to talk to, someone who was awake with me. I wanted a friend. I didn't have any, and I was incredibly lonely.

So I did something that a lot of children do. What did it matter if it was childish, why couldn't I do the same thing?!? I created an imaginary friend. We're a little fuzzy on the details, but finding the old drawings makes it seem like I knew her name before I even created her, so there IS a argument that she is, in fact, an alter that was looking for a way to be seen... And boy did she find one!

I just thought this one was cute. Belle has always been a bit athletic and more on the physical side then I have.

I had made her to be a lot of things I wasn't. confident, cocky, ready for physical activity. A lot of things that I had when I was a child, but grew out of. She liked video games, but that's because I liked video games. She was the yin to my yang, a mash of things I wasn't to help fulfill the feeling of her being her own person.

A lot of those attributes have stuck around over the years.

She was also supposed to be slightly shorter then me, BUT SEEMS TO HAVE DECIDED THAT WASN'T FOR HER RECENTLY... It's fine... really... I'm good.

another old pic, this one featuring Roy again. My art has always felt flat to me, and only recently have I been wanting to improve on that.

In conclusion, I love her. She has been my best friend for fifteen years. To think that in five more years, she'll have been around for half my life, that's still a fact that we don't want to get used to.

This is so much more then I've admitted to anyone, it's not quite the easiest thing to bring up to a group of friends. "Oh yea, I have this friend... She's imaginary, but VERY MUCH her own person... She's right over there!" But... That's kind of how it is for me and her. She IS her own person, she has consistently made that fact known to us. She's absolutely unique in how she presents herself, and I do hope that the strength at which I'm able to perceive her only gets stronger.

If you got this far... Thanks. Thanks for reading all of that, and I hope you have a wonderful day. I DID need to put this out there so that I could use it to help answer any questions I get from my Skunk HRT thing I'm going to try to do. If anyone who has read this still has questions, feel free to ask. Otherwise, reader, take care and be safe, alright?

Roy giving Belle a piggy back ride, I really loved this pose for two people. This was about 15 years ago.

Boy what 15 years can do. I redrew it, this time with me instead of Roy. Belle is looking a bit crazed here, but hey, it's been a few years since she's had so much artistic attention, she wants to go a little gremlin mode right now.

Who wants a massive info dump on my headmate Belle? Including

1: old art and new art of her

2: massive walls of text

5: our history together

3: recent developments

4: other misc things I can't predict right now

Would anyone be interested?

#Belle #Tulpa #Headmate #System Talk #Wall of text #information #I cannot believe it's been 15 years #Here's to many more #Long post #Ye have been warned #Skunk #Furry #Lion?

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slashersgirlypop · 2 years ago

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Grilled Cheese Chapter 13.

TW: NON-CON KISSING

(September 3rd, 1978)

I groaned, rolling onto my side, away from the blinding ray of sunlight that shone on my eyes. My back ached from whatever the hell Michael laid me on. I knew we were no longer driving, but I didn’t know where we were.

I opened my eyes, sitting up and rubbing my neck. I was in a dirty, bare-walled room with stains on the carpet. There was a small, smashed window, the glass scattered on the ground beneath it. On the ground next to me was a shattered mirror, with bits of my reflection along the floor, a constellation of me. What was the white thing on my forehead?

I reached up and touching the side of my head where it was aching. My fingers brushed along gauze. Taking one of the pieces of glass, I investigated my reflection. There was gauze wrapped around my head clumsily, but with intent. There was a small dark stain on the side of my head, probably from where Michael smashed my head against my headboard. I gently lifted the gauze, grimacing at the wound. It didn’t look too deep, but it was a head wound so it seemed worse than it probably was.

Getting up, slightly wobbly, I made my way to the door on the other side of the room. I glanced back at the makeshift bed I was on. It seemed like a sleeping bag, well, my sleeping bag. Michael must have packed it. I noticed another sleeping bag, maybe a few feet away from mine. Maybe someone left it?

I slowly opened the door, stepping out into the next room. I think I was in some abandoned mobile home. It looked like someone was in a rush to leave, and whoever used to live here had problems. By that, I mean the various amounts of cheap beer bottles scattered along the hallway.

Stepping into the front room, I saw Michael. He was sitting on a broken sofa that was tilted on its side.

“Hi,” I croaked out, my throat dry from lack of water.

“What time is it, Mikey?” He pointed to a clock leaning against the wall. 2:45.

“How long are we going to stay here, uh, wherever here is?” He didn’t respond, only returning his attention back to the sketch book he had in his lap.

“Okay…Do you still have whatever you wrapped my head in so I can maybe clean the wound?” I asked. He pointed to the bag on the floor.

Retrieving the first aid kit, I went to the bathroom and tried to find a reasonably clean spot on the messy and stained counter.

I hissed as I felt the alcohol sting my skin, gently cleaning the wound. I was surprised Michael had bandaged my head, although it was a sloppy job. It’s the thought that counts I suppose, though.

I gently applied fresh gauze, content with the job I did. I mean, it wasn’t nurse-level good, but when you are virtually alone most of your life, you learn how to treat a wound decently.

As I cleaned my wound on my head, I thought back on the strange and crazy turn of events that led to this moment. It’s been, what, four days since Michael has entered my life? He entered my home one night, demanded I prepare him food, choked me, spanked me, killed my assistant manager in my own fucking home, and then knocked me out and took me God knows where. To top it all off, despite my dizzy head, probably from the wound he gave me, I am relatively calm about the whole situation.

Shouldn’t I be screaming? Begging, pleading for my release? Saying I won’t tell a soul if he lets me go?

Why am I taking this whole situation so well?

“Mra?” I softly smiled as I finished the knot on the freshly applied gauze wrapped around my head, feeling Mrs. Petunia brush softly against my leg.

I guess having something that provides some sort of comfort does keep me more grounded and less likely to act irrationally. Okay, aside from my escape attempts which have ended with me being choked or spanked cruelly.

Exiting the bathroom, I walked back into the living room. Michael was in his same position, only moving to draw more to…whatever was on his sketchbook. Jesus, was that a picture of him stabbing some poor blonde girl?

“Um, so, what now?” He paused his drawing, slowly looking up at me.

“I mean, I’m surprised I’m taking this whole situation well right now, but what will happen from this point on? Stay here forever? Because if it is, I need some cleaning supplies because this looks like some, uh, drug…place,” I finished weakly, looking at the several grossly colored stains along the wall along with the cheap empty beer cans around the room. Why did it smell like…a skunky smell, I wanna say?

He said nothing, only nodded before drawing his attention back to his sketchbook. I sighed, crossing my arms. I jumped, feeling Mrs. Petunia begin to climb up my pant legs and then up my side, perching herself on my shoulders. She began to purr in my ear, content. I reached up and stroked her, my attention still on the silent masked killer who was using crayons to graphically depict the blood spilling out of whoever that poor lady was.

“Mikey, I’m going to be honest with you here. Why me? What’s so important about me that you couldn’t just, I don’t know, leave me at my house, at least tied up so I couldn’t escape to get help and you could get away?” He once again paused. He looked up at the wall, as if pondering his words, or something like that.

It’s really hard to tell what he’s thinking since he always has that damn rubber latex whatever on.

Finally, he flipped to a new page of his sketchbook and his hand flew across the page, writing something.

He got up once he was finished and made his way over to me. As he got closer, Mrs. Petunia grunted and hopped off my shoulder. Soon, he stood right in front of me, making me feeling immensely small and weak compared to his towering and built figure.

He handed me the paper, and I took it.

“Becuse you are m ine,” Is what was messily written on the paper.

“‘You are mine?’ Mikey, what does that even m-“ He grabbed the back of my throat and pulled me close, crouching slightly to my level. The nose of the mask briefly rubbed against mine before he pressed the fake lips against mine. Shock ran through my veins along with fear. It was over as soon as it started, and he walked back to his seat, plopping down on the sofa. It creaked under his form as I stood there frozen.

Well, this just got more complicated than I thought. Fuck.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~

WHAT IS UP MY BITCHES????? Yeah, things are now gonna move more into the Michael being his more bad side!!! I'm sorry it took so fuckin long to update. I've had a mental breakdown, got a new job being a waitress, been sick, and am slowly losing some of my best friends. Oh yeah, and I've officially entered the stage of having alllllll level 3000 courses at uni. so yeah. next chapter might be out next weekend. Fairwell, my fellow slasher sluts ;-3

#halloween 1978 #michael myers #slasher #yandere michael myers #yandere michael myers x reader #hostage reader #tw: noncon #captive reader

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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years ago

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Where There Is Change

Last Name Wayne

@maribat-bdbwm

First *** Previous *** Next

Okay so I know I diverged from cannon, but I think you’ll all like this.

~~~~~~~~~~

The moment that Damian agreed, they left.

She immediately placed their phones and electronics into storage, so this game would be a little more fun.

Mari "chose" the first place that they teleported to was Paris. The irony was not lost on her.

The place that kicked her out was the first place that would open up to her. But then again most of the city adored Marinette they loved Lady Scarlet even more, but that wasn't general knowledge.

She and Damian know it is a matter of time before B figures they left the country, but hey. They mostly stuck to going between super cities in the U.S. before. But right now, it mostly was her showing him around the city the museums and then getting really inspired by the scenery.

If she was prepared with several different sketch books and pencils for both of them it was an added bonus.

She knows she subconsciously picked Paris and after a few hours it might be smart to jump again. So, she let Damian decide on a place where he wanted to go. He did warn her that if they were spotted, they need to leave immediately, but she didn’t really see a problem with it.

Because granted they’re both Wayne's, and Wayne's if you know them well enough, they will be able to hand your ass back to you on a silver platter smiling as if it was the greatest thing in the world.

So, they jumped again.

This time it was her turn to be awed by what they saw.

They were in a small alcove completely hidden; in the cave they were in the face of it was covered by bushes. But looking out she saw the mountains in the far distance it appeared to be a lake no it was larger maybe it was the ocean. Right below her was a lush courtyard filled with plant she's only seen and one other place, but the heat here was tremendous, and the sea that she could see was in the wrong direction. Apart from being far, far, far too close to where she originally thought they were.

She was going to lean forward a bit and completely break through the bushes that were covering them when a hand pulled her back. She looks back and sees her little brother holding onto her.

"We have to stay hidden Nettie, are above the League of Assassins." He whispered so quiet she could barely hear him about ten inches away, so she’s not taking this lightly.

She nodded, and they stayed there, silent. The only sound was of graphite on paper.

Then everything changed.

On instinct Marinette shot out her arm, a wooden imperial yo-yo appeared in her hand, with a quick flick of her wrist she stopped the projectile, lodging it within the wood. A quick glance at her brother and she opened up portal behind him and pushed him through without a word, closing it behind him.

She knows that it’s more dangerous if they find him here than her, so she stayed behind.

She removed the projectile and examined it, a blow dart likely with poison, seeing as a liquid was seeping into the wood of the yo-yo. She created a replica of the dart and stored the poisonous one and her yo-yo back in storage.

She took a quick breath and punctured her arm where the dart should have originally landed. And fell to the ground, slumped down.

She kept her face relaxed her body limp and she felt three, four, five separate sickly deathly auras around her. She kept her breathing at minimum, light, almost as if she was asleep. They picked her up and moved her. She realized immediately that she was being taken down the mountain, taken deeper into the League of Assassins.

Five assassins she can take them. But the one thing repeatedly crossing her mind was one phrase.

'How dare these assholes mess with her family! Her little brother! They are going to pay!'

Because she is a Wayne, and Wayne’s protect their own.

She was eventually dropped in a large room, from what she can tell, if the echoes were any indication to what she was thinking the size of the room could be. There were three more auras in this room, aside from the ones she passed to get here. What surprised her was she recognized all three.

Still acting unconscious, she heard a woman’s voice, Talia Al Ghul, speak. "What business do you have to bring this child here?" It was phrased as a question but seemed more like a snarl or demand than anything else.

"She was captured on the grounds. She’s an unknown." Was what was reported by one of the people in who had dragged her down here.

Then she heard a chuckle.

"She’s awake." That voice, she recognizes that voice. Her entire previous plan was now completely out the window. So, she lazily pushes herself up, pulling out the dart once she was on her feet.

"Damn, I thought that would last a little longer." She finally looked up and saw Damian's clone, Heretic, Talia, and Al Ghul. But something was wrong, it was bothering her. Al Ghul, he, he… he wasn’t Demon, he wasn’t her Demon anymore. All she recognized now is his voice, at least that’s what she told herself, nothing else was the same as a person she once knew. The question now is why. "I really shouldn’t have introduced you to the Order, if the result would have been this?" A smirk on her lips and now standing cocky in the middle of a room full of assassins, she is stalling. He is acting like he knows her, but his aura is indecipherable, familiar, but not.

"You should not have, but then I wouldn’t be here today, to thank you, would I? After all you allowed our family to find these pits." ‘Our Family’ she dove into her memories, but now that she needed them, they were far away and fuzzy, God damn it.

"Hmmm, I suppose not. Right now, I really wish I had turned you into a cat permanently. I found the correct spell, so I actually can now." This elicited yet another chuckle from Al Ghul which had everyone else in the room on edge.

"Really now I love to see it, after all I wasn’t able to experience it before you vanished." She quirked an eyebrow at this response, but she didn’t care about his mind games, she was stalling, trying to find out what caused this change. All her mind supplied were the plants outside. Demon wasn’t good with plants, but he was with animals, so how.

"Really you don’t wanna know why am actually here?" She asked, looking so innocent, one might believe that she was there merely an accident or coincidence.

She then turned towards Heretic, death in her blue eyes was all anyone could see, but she didn’t kill him. No, she couldn't bring herself to kill him. He may have killed her baby brother, but he is

Damian’s clone, but that clone was nothing but a poor imitation of her brother. With a snap of her fingers, he transformed into a statue of a panther, mouth opening for a roar. In all accounts looking intimidating, but there’s no way to be scared of a statue.

"That was for killing my little brother." She crossed her arms now glaring daggers towards Talia.

"I wasn’t aware you had a little brother, Lady Cheng." Demon never called her Lady Cheng, no to him she was Malak (Angel), but…

That was when the pieces fell into place. That’s why the older Damian looks like a cross between Demon and Bruce. That’s why Damian turned into a panther cub. Damian is Amir’s reincarnation, the true soul of the black cat. That means, in front of her stood Ra’s, Amir’s older twin brother. That’s why he could read the journal, he is a miraculous soul. And only miraculous souls know the language of miracles, without decades of studying the script. It’s ingrained in them but only accessible after coming in contact with old magic, miraculous magic.

"One, the name is Wayne. Two that’s because at the time that I met the both of you 600 years ago, I didn’t even know I had siblings. So, get this through your head, I don’t care that he is your son or your grandson. He is my little brother. Nothing will stop me from making sure my family is safe." Her voice stayed level, emotion flitted in and out of it, in such a way that it almost seemed inhuman. For more reasons than one, she just sensed one of the Lazarus Pits.

"Scarlet." She heard gasped by the woman next to Ra’s.

"Correct." She glared at them walking closer as she said so. "My name is Marinette Wayne, and you best remember to never mess with creation. I would have thought you would remember that little Lǎohǔ (Tiger)."

By her walk over a sword had appeared in each hand, which she was now holding up to Lǎohǔ‘s neck, while the second was held right at the base of Talia's spine, almost daring her to move. The threat hung in the air, and both knew she was capable of following through.

"Well, I do believe it’s best to catch up over some tea." Lǎohǔ offered, many would have taken his offer. Because if the Demon’s head offers it, it would be your funeral if you refused, but she wasn’t just anyone. "After all we haven’t seen each other, in nearly 600 years, now have we, much must’ve happened to you."

"Hmmm... not really you’d be surprised. By what has become of my life been since meeting you." She decided to put away her blades, for the time being. Seeing as she couldn’t leave without destroying the Pits. The only surviving consequence of the Miraculous wish, cast ages ago. Now time to come up with a plan.

---

"Are you sure about this Pigtails?" Plagg spoke up.

"Ancient magic like this calls for a price." She sighed.

"We know, Marinette, but your little brother." Tikki voiced.

"I'll do everything I can to keep all of them safe." She spoke resolutely.

"But can you live with this?" Tikki asked.

"I have to be able to. Besides I'm pretty sure he is your true kitten, Plagg." She reassured.

Tikki and Plagg united their powers, and were able to destroy the pit, and every other one on Earth. Then disappeared. She opened a gate knowing what is coming.

---

Somewhere in the league of Assassins was the Demon's head and his daughter, looking royally pissed as they watch a timer tick down. Seeing as Marinette decided to freeze them with venom, so she could destroy the Lazarus Pits.

~~~~~~~~~~

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

Jasonette Protection Program

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Marinette pulled her coat closer around her as she made her way from the bus stop to her apartment. She had made the brilliant decision when she moved here not to get a car because… Gotham. The likelihood that it would get damaged or destroyed in some kind of attack was ridiculously high. The likelihood the bus would get blown up or taken over, while definitely still present, was significantly lower.

But today she was regretting that decision. It meant she couldn’t isolate herself like she wanted to. It meant she was exposed to anybody and everybody at the bus stop and on the bus and on the sidewalk and any one of them could have been the one to drug her. She eyed the people around her as she walked. Okay, maybe not the woman who looked like she was in her 90’s and could barely walk… and dropped her knitting out of her bag.

Marinette rushed over to her and paused right before reaching her. She twirled around and scanned the faces around her. She could feel somebody watching her. She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her every move. She studied the shadows and the windows, but couldn’t find anyone watching her. She frowned slightly and shook her head. She was getting paranoid. She was seeing and feeling things that weren’t there.

She sighed and turned back to the woman, crouching down to help her put her knitting back in her bag. The woman smiled in appreciation, which Marinette returned with a shaky one of her own. She walked the remaining few feet to her apartment building and took a cautious look up and down the dark street before turning into it. She made sure she heard the click of the door latching before continuing up the stairs, not that it would do anything. Logically she knew that, but her anxiety still demanded it.

She kept her eyes on the stairwell as she made her way up to her apartment on the top floor, eyes hyper vigilant for any movement, her ears hyper sensitive to any sounds from the stairs. She got to her floor and paused for a few moments waiting to see if any sounds or movement indicated someone behind her. She let out a relieved sigh when there was no noise and turned to her apartment before letting out a muffled screech.

Jason jumped, dropping his phone he had been scrolling on, in his rush to hold up his hands in a placating motion. “Just me. It’s okay. It’s just me.” He watched her for a few seconds. She was starting to breathe hard, her eyes were boring into him. “Although I just realized you may not remember me. So this was actually an incredibly stupid plan.” He took a few steps away from her door, his hands still held up to let her know he wasn’t a threat.

Marinette continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, forcing her breathing to slow. “You… you’re Tim’s brother, right? You… you were…” she squinted at him, “you were in my bedroom?”

Jason grimaced and looked down to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… that doesn’t make me sound too good, does it?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

He perked up slightly and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing today. It can hit a day or a few days later sometimes. And I’m a security expert. I consult on it for people and companies. I wanted to offer to check your security for you so you’d feel safe, at least when you’re at home.” He turned to her door and knocked on the doorframe. “I can already tell that you need better locks. I could have broken in easily, but I didn’t think you would appreciate finding me in your apartment.”

She raised an eyebrow at him but let out a quiet chuckle and looked away after a few seconds. “You would be right.” She looked back up at him and tentatively walked over closer to her door. “But, I don’t think I can afford to hire you.”

Jason waved off her concern. “I wouldn’t let you. I’d charge Tim for it. He can afford it and he’s worried enough that I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t contacted me already, but I suppose that has something to do with him not wanting you to meet me in the first place.”

Marinette quirked her lips to the side and studied him. The longer she watched and talked to him the more memories came back and the clearer they became. She was slowly starting to get bits and pieces of the night before, not enough to create a coherent picture, just incredibly short scenes, a word here, a smile there. Regardless of what she could remember though, this was Tim’s brother and although Tim didn’t want them to meet, he trusted him, not that she would ever be allowed to say that out loud to either of them.

She finally nodded and pulled out her keys. “Well, I can at least offer you dinner while you’re here. If you’d like.” She gave him a small smile as she passed him into the apartment taking off her coat and dropping her bag on the small dining room table.

Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise. After the way she had reacted when she saw him, he honestly didn’t think she would talk to him let alone let him into her apartment. He was starting to understand how she could have gotten drugged so easily if she was that trusting. But then again, Tim had said they all were being careful. Her even more so than the others. So why was she so trusting now? “I would never turn down free food,” he said slowly.

He closed the door behind him with a quick glance at the inside part of the lock, confirming his original suspicions. Standard issue, not particularly secure. He could have picked it in all of three minutes when he was only eight. He didn’t have to lean down to study the doorknob to know it was in worse condition. One good kick and the door would be wide open. He sighed. If anyone wanted to get into her apartment, it wouldn’t take them very much effort.

He turned back to the apartment, letting his frown morph into a smile. Her apartment was cozy and lived in and very much her. There were touches of her everywhere along with some touches that he wouldn’t have expected. He shook his head at the condition of the apartment. It wasn’t terribly messy but it also wouldn’t count as anything close to clean. He could see why she and Tim got along so well. Neither could clean up after themselves to save their lives.

There were bits of fabric and half completed sewing projects scattered around along with random pages of scientific reports. He raised an eyebrow at that. Odd combination. His eyes caught on men’s shoes by the door. He scrunched his forehead in confusion. If she lived with someone, where were they? Where were they last night? Why hadn’t Tim mentioned him? “You live with someone? A boyfriend?”

Marinette looked up from the refrigerator. “No. Well, yes, but no. I live with my best friend,” she explained quickly, “but he’s visiting friends this week.”

Jason nodded. That was good at least. She wasn’t living alone. There was someone else with her usually. That makes it less likely someone could just break in and attack her. He moved over to the window and sighed again, more deeply this time. It was worse than the door. “No curtains. You should probably get some, preferably lined ones. This lock is ancient too. It wouldn’t take much to jimmy it. We’ll get you new locks for your windows and your door.”

Marinette looked at him wide eyed as she set a bunch of grapes and a jug of filtered water from the refrigerator on the counter. She hadn’t been expecting the locks to be that bad. She knew it wasn’t amazing, but then again, she hadn’t really been too concerned about being specifically targeted here. Nobody really knew who she was, or rather used to be. She was just an average citizen here.

She stared at the window for a few seconds, her head cocking to the side and her eyes unfocusing as her mind wandered through the possibilities of what could have happened and what still could. She was no longer safe, not even in her own home. But then again, she never really had been had she? She had just thought she was. She thought she was safer after they’d defeated Hawkmoth, but she’d just traded one danger for another.

Jason watched as her face morphed from one expression to another, her eyes distant. Her face clearly displaying each and every emotion she was going through, no matter how flitting. Jason could guess where her head went. When her eyes started shimmering, he opened his mouth to bring her out of it when her phone rang. She jerked back violently, knocking over the jug of water.

She cursed as she tried to stop the jug’s descent only to knock it further away, further spreading the water. She gave a defeated groan and grabbed a towel from a nearby drawer to start sopping up the water. Jason jumped to grab a few more towels to help. It took a few minutes, but they were finally able to clean up the water with a minimum of damage to papers left on the counter. Luckily, none of Marinette’s sketches were on the island anymore but Adrien was definitely going to have to reprint some of his papers for research.

Marinette gave Jason an appreciative smile and threw the papers in recycling and the towels in the sink. She let out a deep frustrated sigh as she leaned against the counter. After a few seconds, she ran her hands through her hair and laughed. Jason frowned at the sound. It was short and mirthless and sounded utterly wrong coming from her. He could see her starting to spin but didn’t know her well enough to know how to help. God, he really hadn’t thought this through.

Jason very slowly started reaching for her so she could see his hands coming. Shen she didn’t shy away, he set a hand on her arm to ground her. She looked up into his eyes, panicked eyes meeting concerned eyes. They both jumped when her phone started ringing again. They both chuckled quietly at their reactions.

“Sorry…” she started but was cut off by another ring. She shook her head at herself. She hadn’t even noticed the original call had dropped. She checked the caller id and smiled at the phone. “Hey Tim.” She paused to listen to him. “No, I’m fine. I just… I knocked something over and was cleaning it. Sorry for scaring you.”

She gave Jason an apologetic smile as she listened to Tim. “I’m doing okay, I guess. I think I’m just jumpy… and getting paranoid. I could have sworn someone was watching me walk home, but when I looked nobody was around or rather nobody was paying attention to me.” She missed the slight grimace Jason shot toward the floor. “No, thank you though. Actually, your brother is here already.” She smiled at Jason again and put Tim on speaker.

“…that so. That’s very thoughtful of him,” Tim quipped in a clipped tone.

“Yeah, he’s checking my locks,” Marinette continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension in his voice, or attributing it to his concern. “Apparently my door and window locks are pretty bad,” Marinette frowned at the thought.

“Uh huh. Well it’s just so great that he came over then,” Tim gritted out.

Marinette did a double take when Jason’s phone dinged repeatedly with an extended series of text notifications. She blinked at it a few times before looking questioningly at Jason. He rolled his eyes and turned his phone off. He met her eyes with a shrug and a wink as he sat at her island.

“Tell him I say hi and remind him he has plans with Bruce soon,” Tim continued tightly.

Jason huffed. “Tell him to tell B, I'm not going on patrol until Demon Spawn calms down. And tell him I’m sending him the bill for this.” He motioned vaguely around them.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tim conceded easily before his voice turned harsh again, “And tell him…”

“You two do realize you can hear each other and you two both know you can hear each other and I know you can hear each other and I’m not an owl!” Marinette admonished them sharply.

The room was silent for a few seconds before Tim started chuckling. “Sorry, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She nodded at the phone even though he couldn’t see her.

“Hey! That makes me Ron? What the fuck?” Jason objected raising up from his seat in offense.

“Oh come on, you’d look good with red hair,” Marinette teased him lightly.

“You better fucking not be Ron,” Tim growled. “You’re more like Draco anyway,” he continued flippantly.

“Fuck you, Pretender,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, this is making me feel better,” Marinette sighed, leaning against the counter.

There was a guilty pause as the men took in her words. “Sorry,” Jason finally spoke up after a while.

“What?” Marinette gave him a curious look until realization set in. “Oh! No, I was serious. You two remind me of my friends. It feels comforting, normal.”

Tim waited a second before speaking up cautiously. “So… you’re okay for tonight? You feel safe?”

Marinette smiled at the phone again. “Yeah, Tim. I’m okay. Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course. Let me know if that changes. I’ll be over in three minutes flat,” he promised.

Marinette grinned mischievously. “Do I get a free pizza if you take longer?”

Tim huffed out a laugh. “Absolutely.”

“Sweet. I might test it just for that,” she teased him. “Night, Tim.”

“Night. And tell Jason to turn his phone back on before I do it for him.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Still not an owl,” she singsonged before she hung up. She looked over to Jason with a concerned smile. “Do you have to go? It sounded like you already had plans?”

Jason waved her off and took the battery out of his phone before leaning against the counter near her. “I have plenty of time. Like I said, if I show up now De… Damian is going to attack me.” Marinette’s eyes widened in concern but Jason waved her off again. “It’s fine. He isn’t as tough as he thinks he is. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me, but Bruce would yell at me for it and Dick would give me his disappointed in you lecture. It’s better for everyone if I stay away for a few days.”

He grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tim just doesn’t want me stealing his friend away with my superior looks and charm.”

Marinette scowled lightly at him. “Tim is very handsome and charming,” she insisted defensively.

Jason shot her a devilish smile. “But not as much as me, right?”

Marinette scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. “You certainly seem to think so.” She rinsed some grapes and set them in a bowl between the two of them. “But he’s the only reason you’re here right now. If you weren’t Tim’s brother and we hadn’t met last night when you were fairly respectful of me in my… state…”

“Fairly!?” Jason squawked.

“I’d have called, well, not the cops, but Tim, to take care of you,” she continued over him. She grabbed a grape and chewed on it while she watched him appraisingly as she leaned back against the counter opposite him. “Do you make a habit of stealing his friends?”

Jason shrugged and grabbed a few grapes. “No, we generally move in different…” he searched for a nice way to phrase it, “circles.”

She hummed in response. “And yet here you are, willingly entering in a circle with one of his friends.” She eyed him pointedly. She quickly broke their eye contact to look down and cross her arms over her chest protectively. “Thank you for breaking into this particular circle to help me out. Last night spooked me more than I want to admit.”

“Did you want to talk about it? Or pretend like it never happened. I can help with either,” Jason offered.

Marinette stared at the grapes for a while without talking. Jason was certain she was about to start spiraling again when she spoke up quietly. “I was keeping an eye on my drinks. I only took my eyes off of them when I was around people I trusted and we weren’t exactly close to other people for someone to just slip something in.” She frowned and looked at nothing in particular. She poured herself a glass of water and held the rim of the glass against her lips without drinking it as she remembered the night before. “I don’t know which scares me more, that someone was that good to get it in with all of us there or…”

“That one of the people you trust might be responsible,” Jason finished for her after a few seconds of silence. When she looked up to meet her eyes, she looked so shaken and uncertain, he wanted to pull her into a tight, reassuring hug, but after the night before, he wasn’t sure a virtual stranger’s embrace would be the most reassuring. He settled for moving to lean against the counter next to her so their arms were almost touching, but she still had her personal space.

“Yeah,” she said wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her arms.

“You think you were the intended victim?” he asked curiously. He and Tim had already discussed the night and decided that she had to be, but he was curious what her thoughts were. “You don’t think it was just opportunistic. You think whoever was with targeting you.”

She shook her head and looked down, frowning at the floor. She gripped her arms tighter. “I don’t know. I was never alone and I only drank with my friends at our own table away from other people. I mean someone at the bar could have drugged it before it was brought over when the waitress brought drinks but…”

“How would they know who it would go to,” Jason finished again. “Seems unlikely they’d risk the drug like that if they didn’t know who it would go to. If they didn’t have a plan to get the person out.”

Marinette looked up at him anxiously and nodded. She studied him for a few more seconds before she shook herself out of her daze. She looked up at him with a fake smile. “So what are you feeling for dinner? I can make some pasta. I can do stir fry. I can whip up a casserole. What do you want?”

“I’ll be happy with whatever you feel like having tonight,” he assured her with a smile.

“I don’t… really… feel like eating,” she mumbled, looking away again. “This is more something for me to focus on instead of last night.”

Jason gave her a gentle smile and lowered himself to her level, trying to gain her attention. “Look, I know you don’t know me but why don’t we order take out and we can watch a movie, or if you want to be alone, I can leave.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she answered quickly, instantly looking over to him with a desperate look in her eyes.

Jason nodded slowly and gave her a gentle smile. He rested his hands lightly on her arms to reassure her he was there and not going anywhere unless she wanted him to. “That’s understandable. I wouldn’t want to be either. Do you want me to call Tim over? I know you probably feel safer with him and when he can’t be here in three minutes, you get a pizza.”

She gave him a wan smile. “No, I trust you. And I’m not really feeling pizza right now.”

Jason smiled back. “I want to joke and say that’s a terrible decision, but now doesn’t seem like the best time.” She gave him a deadpan look that made his grin widen. “I’ll save that for later,” he finished with a wink. His expression quickly turned serious as he watched her. “You should eat though. What kind of food do you want to try? There’s a good Indian restaurant around the corner.”

She looked away. “I don’t want to order out. I don’t want food that I…”

Jason nodded and moved closer again. “Yeah, that’s reasonable. Let’s make something together, yeah? I saw some eggs and milk in your refrigerator and there’s bread on the counter. How do you feel about breakfast for dinner? French toast sound good? I think you call it Lost Bread? And how do you feel about Clueless?”

“The movie?” she asked confused.

“Yeah, adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.”

“Fan of Alicia Silverstone or Jane Austen?” she teased weakly.

“Both,” Jason answered with a wink.

Marinette snickered and nodded. “That all sounds amazing.” She moved away to start getting the pan and bowls out, watching him while he got the ingredients prepared. “Thank you, Jason. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“No problem. We’ll get things figured out so you can feel safe, or at least as safe as you can feel in Gotham,” he assured her, and himself. They were going to find who drugged her and make her feel safe again. Whoever it was messed with one of Tim’s friends, one of the few he really trusted, that means whoever it was messed with his family and nobody messed with their family.

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @aespades @demonicbusiness @read-fantasy-to-escape-reality @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - night #Jasonette Protection Program

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insufferablelust · 4 years ago

Note

Cockwarming Don Reid with his men in the next room

Warning : Cockwarming, mob boss! Spencer, Mean dom!spencer, mention of killing, degrading name calling, filthy.. so fucking filthy, exhibitionism, literally almost fucking in front of people, mention of sub space, d/s theme obviously, and yeah.. 18+ please.

MASTERLIST HERE.

“Princess, come here.” Spencer pat his lap with a burning gaze directed to the cute little thing sat ontop of his office couch like a queen. Work days usually means no playing around, for Y/N it’s one of those days where she’d usually spend at her apartment doing her tasks or paint something for the young don.

But on rare occasions such this, where all the workload of responsibilities upon responsibilities piled on his shoulder, he’d bring her in, he’d tell her to sit all pretty, and continue to study unless daddy calls and that’s exactly she has been doing for hours now, sketching the wooden figurine on his shelf with her legs up the table and her back rests against the couch. She looks prettier than usual he thought, not that his butterfly never look anything less than amazing but she just radiates that softness, that gentle and tender touch which he often depraved himself of— being in the mob especially as the leader, he has to be on the rough rugged edge all the time, he cannot be tender and soft but he can certainly have you as his own personal reminder that not all things in life is as bad as what he has seen.

Y/N, the darling butterfly happily obliged as she stood up after placing her sketchbook down the table and make her way to where he sits on the large chair— colored burgundy red. The soft knitted knee high socks that clad her feet anxiously drags her to the edge of his desk with her fingers fumbling on the hem of her flower dress, no matter where and when, or how and why— he always intimidates her in ways that seemed to flutter her insides with pure wanton yet desirable lust, all for him.

Encased in a black suit, he sat up straight as he holds her hips before placing her down atop his lap with her back against his front, his perfect little princess. “Dressed so prettily for daddy. Haven’t seen this one before pet, did you buy them just to impress me hm?” if it were any other man, talking to you like you owe them you would flip their asses off and beat them to pulp— but when he says it, demands it, caress your soul with it— you couldn’t refuse nor deny.. not that you would ever want to anyway because yes, yes you did buy them to impress him, to make him as weak as she is for him.

She nodded shyly with a small “yes daddy” before squirming gently ontop of his lap whilst Spencer caress her inner thigh— calloused rough fingers brushing up and down her god glowing skin, intensifying all the tension that builds inside of her. Her skin prickled with heat as he inches his sinful fingertips up up up creeping upon her clothed dripping wet cunt, causing her to mewl lowly in frustration, grinding her ass back against his growing crotch.

“Daddy has so many things today pet, so many fucking things to keep you happy, to buy dresses like this one.” He whispered onto your ear, his lips pressing against your temple with his curls gazes against your heating cheek as you nod and shut your eyes tight— feeling his knuckles graze right against your clothed aching swollen clit, making you buck up your hips as he laughs behind you, chest rumbling with triumph.

“Jesus petal, haven’t done anything and you’re soaking my pants already? are you always this needy? fucking hell.” He shook his head as he keep on laughing condescendingly, whilst you writhed and squirm on his lap, your face nudging against his neck. “Please d-daddy..” Oh how he loves your mewls, your sweet sweet moans just sent all the blood from his head rushing down toward his cock— making him all dizzy and dying to feel your clutching heat.

“Shh you want Morgan to hear you, is that it? want my men to hear your filthy moans, bunny?” His words sent tingles up your spine, through your bloodstream as his fingers skillfully tear your panties apart, with you gasping— eyes as glassy as ever and mind absolutely mush with tension and pleasure. “Daddy asked you a question.” He growled, before slapping your bare wet soaking cunt few times which you respond with loud cries and squirm on his lap.

“Sorry daddy! f— please i... oh mmh!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you feel his thumb grazing innocently to your little nub of pleasure numbing nerves, flicking his thumb up and down it focusing on the rhythm as he might as well play you like his favorite instrument. “All needy and you can’t even get a proper word out, such a mindless baby.” He scoffed before slapping right on your clit multiple times.

“Ah! Ah oh! daddy!” You screamed, having no care in the world if his men heard— you knew in the back of your mind that they heard and that alone sends a new surge of adrenaline throughout your body, leaving you pliant and in need for daddy— daddy’s cock, fingers, anything just anything. “Here’s what you’re going to do, pup. You’re going to keep daddy’s cock warm whilst i do my job, if you behave like a good little girl then i’ll let you cum, but if you decided to think with your cunt and move i swear to god i’ll edge you six fuckin ways to sunday, you hear me?” You felt him fumbling with his zipper as he took his cock out, with you whining— babbling ‘yes yes yes daddy’ against his skin, eyes all droopy and fucked with your neatly applied mascara drip down your cheeks.

“Up you go pet, slide daddy in.” You shakily stand, bunching the hem of your dress on your hips before you straddled his thigh and looks down to get ahold the base of his well endowed cock— pulsing with need and heat. “Fuck, go on.” He urged you as he grab ahold of your hips before you lined him up with your sopping wet entrance and sink down slowly— down his massive throbbing length that has you moaning, panting.

“You can do better than that slut”

Smack!

“N-no! daddy please help! please i— ungh you’re too big!” You shook your head as you tried and tried to take him, all of him but everytime you sink another inch— your body felt like it’s been penetrated into a whole new level as if it hadn’t this morning or the night before, “Fucking helpless baby, look at you, pathetic and needy.” He growled before thrusting up inside you at once, forcing his thick length to slip fully inside your pumping dripping heat causing you both to moan out.

“Oh! oh mmh daddy.. shit..” You felt him deep, deep deep inside you, the tip of him grazing against your spot oh so deliciously, whilst you pant and convulse against him, clutching his cock like a vice. “Perfect little cunt, such a perfect doll for me.”

—

You’re convinced that if god was real, at this moment god must hate you for existing, must hate you so much that the universe sent you this adonis of a man to torture and blur the line of sanity and lunacy for you, torment your pleasure in mockery and sarcasm of how he stayed calm with you perched on his godly lap, panting like a puppy in heat as his thick length penetrated your insides as if it belongs there— forcing every bit of your self control over the teetering edge. You’re loosing your mind, that you’re sure of.

It has been no longer than 30 minutes but your toes have curled and uncurled themselves for eternity, your walls grew slicker and slicker each time he ‘shift’ accidentally, as you mewl and bit the skin on his neck, by the last minute of the long 30– you were trembling in order to resist yourself not to move, for the last bit of your working mind still recognized how severe the punishment would be if you were to move, the don is not one to fuck around with— oops.

Just as he stretches his hand, the knock of the door sent you into a spiraling mess, looking up to Spencer with wide eyes— all glassy and doe as you shook your head, “Daddy, d-daddy n-no..” Shivers runs deep and thrumming lively on your bloodstream as you saw his devilish handsome smirk.

“Be good and quiet, pup.” He whispers

“N-no! no daddy please! i—“

“Come in.” The sound of his voice and door cracking open has you shutting your eyes as tight as you could, face buried on the crook of his neck as he grips onto your thigh. You took a peek at the tall standing figure on the middle of his office, recognizing so clearly that it’s in fact Hotch not only that Emily and Morgan were also present, fuck— you’re fucked as you clenched hard causing the don to hiss and slap your thigh.

“What did i tell you about behaving hm? are you going to behave or should i let them deliver your punishment for you little one?” He growled in your ear, making you let out a pitiful whimper, trying as best as you could to resist the need to look at your patrons and to stay still. “No please, i’ll behave.” you muttered meekly, panting at the raging burning release that has been coiling inside your body.

“No please what? you know better, minx.” He shook his head before grasping your neck with his palm as he take a look at your messy figure. “No daddy p-please..” you bat your eyelash at him as he went in to kiss your lips with a small ‘good girl’ before getting back to his business.

“What is it?” He muttered coldly, one hand on the whiskey glass that he took a sip off every once in awhile and the other secured tightly around your lower tummy— you knew what he’s doing, the game is clear, you knew he likes to feel how you can feel him inside of you, pressing against your sweet spot and your slick canal tried so hard not to clench at the thought.

“The shipment hasn’t arrived yet to midtown, it supposed to days ago but we just heard from Garcia that the Kingsley’s hadn’t even reached out to her in weeks.” Although confident, you could tell there’s a hint of fear and worrisome latched behind Hotch’s voice, one does not fuck with your dom, one does not absolutely delay the shipment of his drugs— no no those cannot do.

“Have you traced it back to them?” The voice that rumbled against your back was eerily calm and deeper, resisting every urge inside his body to lash out— you know that very well. His fingers tighten and tighten its hold onto the glass which you could clearly see his knuckles turning white, you just hope that the poor glass won’t break.

“Yes don, Walker and Alvez went to their base and it was empty, looks like they left in a hurry.” You could feel it before you even see it, heard it, the way his blood pumps just even faster before a lound cracking of the wood sent fear and adrenaline through everyone’s bloodstream, “I don’t fucking care how many, and who’re you going to kill, but i want that fucking shipment arrived to midtown by dawn or i’ll pluck their own eyes myself.” His voice somehow rise and fell deeper at the same time, rumbling deep inside his chest which send shivers on everyone’s spine as they nod with a small uniformed ‘yes don’ before heading out hurrily— no one questions him, no one dared to speak against him, even if they know they’ll have the bloods of people (though bad) on their hands by nightfall.

His threat lives like a venom that stuck on their throat as they pursued their mission— one don does not get his hand dirty let alone going round plucking some low life mob’s eyes— or the end result could be.. would be catastrophic. These Kingsleys have one hell of a problem heading their way.

and you.. you have one hell of a raging frustratingly mad Mob boss in your hand.

—

Y/N’s head couldn’t even process the whole thing before she screamed in absolute pain when he pulled out harshly and bent her over his desk, knocking his whiskey glass onto the floor, clattering with no care in a world. Your mind begs for you to soothe him, soothe his anger yet your cunt aches and throbs with the need to let him use you— take the anger out to you, and ruin you for eternity. You’re his, and you’re ready.

“Stay fucking still.” Spencer slapped your ass harshly, causing you to jump in the position, your legs curled up for a moment as he gripped your hair tightly and grasp your neck with his unoccupied hand, “You’re going to stay still and be a good cocksleeve for me, i’m going to use you like you’re my toy and i won’t stop unless you say your safeword, got it?” His breath fans over your heated skin as you shake and tremble, your mind fuzzy with needs and mush of pleasure— blurring your absolute senses and submitting yourself fully to the mercy of his hand— his cock.

“Use your words, dumb little slut.” He hissed, choking your neck even tighter, with much force and you cried out, “Yes! yes sir, use me, i.. i’m yours..” just as you muttered out, your walls involuntary clenching at the intrusion of his cock plunging deep deep deep inside of you in one go, making you scream out in absolute pleasure and pain.

Spencer might’ve seen red— but when he delves deep inside of your tight heat, he saw the absolute heaven on earth as he begins to thrust in and out of your cunt in a brutal space, knocking his desk toppers off, and making you mewls and screams.

“Fucking tight little cunt— mine huh? isn’t it fucking mine pup?” He slammed into you over and over again as his balls hit your clit in an antagonizing pleasure whilst you writhe below him, forcing your eyes to stay open with all the power in your body looses control. “Its— mmmh ngh fuck! it’s y-yours sir! yes yes yes!” Your moans filled the entire building but neither of you care as Spencer drove his cock home everytime he sinks inside your tight pussy.

“Being such a good whore, letting me use you as my personal fucktoy, just to let my anger out.” He laughs maniacally, pistoning his hips as you clench your walls tightly to elevate the pleasure for you both, causing the room to tremble as you moan and cries out loud, “ungh yes! yes yes your whore daddy— mmh fuck me!” You could feel all the drool drips down your lips as he fucked you stupid atop of his desk but neither of you care nor have the patience to even pay attention because in his mind— the messier the better.

“Won’t be able to walk for days, pet. Fucking cunt going to drool for me everytime you see all the marks i fucking left on you.” He growled, bringing his palm over your ass before giving it a smack over and over again as your body lunges forward trying to get away with how all the friction is causing you to went into over sensitivity. But being the mean dom that he is, Spencer laughs as he pulled you back towards him by your hips. “Where are you going, bunny?”

“Please p-please let me cum, sir... ah!” You arched your back perfectly when the tip of his finger move down down down to where your swollen sensitive clit was, rubbing quickly in a fast pace just to send you over the edge, testing you, daring the orgasm out of you. “Wanna cum petal? hm wanna make a mess on daddy’s cock?” He whispered, one hand continues to rub your clit as the other focuses on holding you against him whilst his hips drives up deep— so deep that the tip grazes against your cervix.

“mmhh ah uh uh uh!” Your eyes lolled back trying to find a cohorent sentence— anything you can say to him but no matter what you’re trying to say was rendered to sinful moans and cries instead as you were right on the brink, “You can do better than that, c’mon bunny, beg daddy to cum.” he stills for a second, pressing in deep as he slaps your cheeks not once but twice— bringing fresh tears flows from your eyes.

“I.. ungh please daddy please! let me cum! been so good for you, please— want you to fill me up too.. fill your baby up, daddy!” Your high pitched voice rang an alarm through the circuit of his lust and anger laced mind, you’re slipping into your space and you’re slipping fast with your eyes just glazes absolutely flying through the realm of pleasure sensitivity.

“Good girl butterfly, such a good fucking girl, wanna cum? c’mon cum..” He whispered, before thrusting his hips in and out slowly, feeling the bliss of your overly wet and tight cunt engulfing him— milking him to cum inside, “Cum for daddy, princess, that’s it.. ohh... that’s it baby, good girl.” You cried out silently as you cum hard around his cock, muscles clenching so tightly that you sent him to release himself inside of you, thick ropes of cum paints your inside as you both moan and tremble.

“My good girl, shh thats it— best cunt ever.. that’s it, so so good for me.” He whispered softly, backing down to where his chair was pushed aside, bringing you with him before sitting down. You groaned out a loud scratchy, “daddy..” As you feel his cock shifted deeper inside of you, your eyes closed as he holds you and calms you down.

“Shh shh princess, just stay here like this. such a good girl, gonna keep me warm while i wait for them aren’t you?”

Although your cunt practically ache and scream for you to not say yes, your love and lust filled mind fogged with utter desire— just nods whining an agreeable mumble— just for him.

This will be a long long day and even a longer night.

#littlebutterfly #spencer reid smut #insufferableblurb #mgg smut #dom!mgg #dom!spencer #smut #criminal minds smut

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totallysharkycomplete · 4 years ago

Text

Waiting For You Part Six (Ford Pines x Reader) Home In Your Arms

She awoke before the dawn as usual. Under the blankets was warm. Although the boat was cold Ford’s body, which was firmly pressed against hers, provided plenty of heat. The gentle swaying of the boat would have made it easy to fall back asleep, but since the weather was supposed to be clear today, she decided to get up and watch the sunrise.

Gently slipping out of the covers, and out of Ford’s grasp, she quickly dresses into more layers before quietly stalking up on the deck. She could still hear the heavy breaths and snores coming from the cabin below. The deck was even colder than the cabin, and there was a layer of frost on the upper windows. She quickly made a cup of coffee then downed it, then leaned against the front railing, and waited for the sunrise as the clouds on the horizon turned pink.

She was lost in thought, so when someone wrapped their arms around her waist she jumped. The person behind her chuckled and she let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ford’s lips are right next to her ears, his stubble is scratchy on her skin.

She lets out a hum, then turns around in his arms to face him. “You could still be sleeping.”

He begins to plant gentle kisses to her cheek. “Couldn’t without you.”

She giggles and places a hand on his cheek, her thumb runs over his stubble.

“Why are you up so early?” He almost whines against her skin, still leaving soft kisses on the small amount of skin exposed on her cheeks and upper neck.

She let out a content sigh. “Weather is supposed to be clear. I wanted to watch the sunrise. Would you like to join me?”

He moves his head up and presses his forehead to hers. “I’d love to.”

She leans forward the inch she needs to so she can plant a kiss on Ford’s lips. It’s soft, but conveys so many feelings. Love, affection, the sense of being home.

Ford tries to lean forward for another kiss but she quickly turns around. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry, but the sun rises this way.” She teases.

Ford’s hand is on the back of her neck, moving the hair away from it so he can press more kisses to her skin.

“You’re in a very touchy mood this morning.” She comments, leaning her back against his chest.

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs, lips still on her skin.

“No,” she quickly tells him. “Just an observation.”

He leaves a few more kisses on her skin before her hand wraps around his. “Ford, look.”

The sun had just peaked above the horizon, brilliant oranges and yellow began to fill the sky, casting warm rays of light on the small sleepy fishing village they had docked near. Soon the warm rays fell onto her face. “Isn't it beautiful?”

“Not more so than you.” Ford tightens his grip around her waist and rests his chin against the top of her head.

She’s glad Ford can’t see the blush on her face. Even after thirty plus years had passed, he could still make her blush. She was about to say something modest back to Ford until she heard a burp and scratching noises.

“Ugh, get a room.” Stanley had obviously joined them on deck.

“We have a room.” She rolls her eyes. “I think you forget we share sometimes. Your memory is slipping old man.” She teases without moving from Ford’s grip.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves her comment away before heading inside the upper cabin to the coffee she had prepared.

There's a moment of peace, you might almost call it pure bliss. To spend the sunrise wrapped in your lover's arms, their warm breath leaving them in clouds of hot air, the boat gently rocking them as the morning tide rolled in.

“Everytime I wrap my arms around you, it feels like coming home all over again, to where I belong.” Ford whispers.

She turns to face him again and cups his face with both her hands, and kisses the tip of his nose. “When did you become so romantic?”

Ford leans into her touch. “I mean it.” He pauses for a second. “I don’t think I ever told you, but when I first came back and saw you, my first thought was that I had died and gone to heaven. Being with you again is everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

“If you had died and gone to heaven then that would have meant Stan was in your heaven too.” She laughs.

“He’s still her now.” He grabs her hand to hold it still so he can tilt his head and kiss her thumb.

She laughs even louder this time, then wraps her arms around his neck to draw him into another kiss. “I love being in your arms. I love being your home, because you’re mine too.”

The boat rocks them gently as the morning sun warms their bodies. Their hearts are full of love for one another. “Let’s stay like this forever, and just let the world drift away.”

Ford is about the respond before Stan interrupts.

“Hey love birds! We gonna explore some anomalies today or what?” Stan barks from behind them.

Ford's eyebrows furrow and he goes to turn his head to snap at Stanley, but her hands catch his chin and turn his face back to her. She kisses him passionately three times and he’s breathless. She untangles herself from Ford and heads towards Stan.

“What’s on the agenda for today co-captain Stanley?” She smiles.

Ford is left standing there speechless and in a daze.

“Are you coming, co-captain Ford?”

Ford looks over at her. She squinting her eyes as the morning sun washes over her features, her cheeks pink from the cold. He has never been more in love with her.

“Coming, associate co-captain.”

---------- By the time the sun was high in the sky he three of them had docked the boat and climbed halfway up the mountain. The town folks had told them about strange flying creatures that lived near the top of the mountain.

The sun beat down on them, and they soon found themselves needing to take off some of the many layers of winter clothes they had dressed in for the day. About an hour into the hike Stan speaks up.

“Hey poindexter, how bout a break?” He huffs as he wipes sweat from his brow.

“We’re very close to where the creatures were reported being seen.” Ford is warm, sweat gleams on his brow, but his attitude is chipper and he’s not as nearly out of breath.

“Even the kid needs a break.” Stan motions towards her.

She rolls her eyes at Stan still calling her a kid. She’s also out of breath, almost as bad as Stan. The high altitude is getting to her, but she wouldn’t voice it.

Ford places a hand on her shoulder. “What do you think? Would you like to take a short rest.”

She smiles and nods. “Let’s take a short rest. We wouldn’t want Stan passing out on us.”

Stan grunts but doesn’t say anything. Glad to finally have a break from hiking. The three of them sit on the ground and drink their water. Ford is sitting as close as he can to her. She shivers as a cold breeze blows past them, feeling a little cold now that they have stopped moving. Ford wraps an arm around her shoulder, she looks up at him and smiles a wordless thank you.

After a few minutes they stand up and begin to get moving again. She groans as she stretches, and once they start moving again she is behind both the boys on the path.

“You alight? You’re normally faster than me.” Stan turns his head to talk to her while they move up the narrow mountain path.

“I’m fine, my legs are just a bit sore.” She tells him.

They continue their hike until they break through the tree line. They can see the horizon on the sea, and far below them is the small fishing village where they left the Stan O’ War II docked.

She’s stunned by the beautiful view and almost doesn’t realise Stan and Ford haven’t stopped walking like she had. She scurries to catch up to them, until she sees a bush near her shake. Looking over she sees a small head of a rat pop out.

“Aww.” She says softly to not scare the rodent away. “Hey little fella.” She coos.

The rat scurried back into the bush at the sound of her voice, much to her disappointment. She turns to catch up to the boys, After a few steps she hears a strange sound. Somewhere between a squeak and a squawk. Turning around she sees the rat has raised itself out of the bush with a pair of wings. This must be the creature they had been looking for!

“Fascinating!” She says to herself and pulls out her sketchbook and begins to jot down a quick doodle on the animal. The sun catches on her silvery pen and flashes a light up at the rat-like creature. It squawks loudly then dives towards her.

Further up the path Ford is mumbling to himself and Stan is tuning him out. Both of them freeze when they hear a shriek. They both stop dead in their tracks and whip around to see she is no longer behind either of them. The brothers share a second of a glance before booking it back down the trail.

It doesn’t take them long to get back to her. When she comes into sight they can see she's using one arm to shield her face, the other is holding her notebook and waving it aimlessly behind her, trying to hit the creature that’s attacking her hair.

Stan is the first to her, he pulls her to his chest with one arm and throws a left hook at the creature, sending it crashing into a tree. There's a moment of silence before Ford is pulling her into his arms. Stan makes his way over towards the tree.

“What happened? I thought you were right behind us?” Ford’s hands are on her face, tilting her head around and looking for any sign of injury. Her hands rest on his chest.

“Ford, I’m okay, promise. You were both further up the path when I noticed the creature. I thought if I called to you I’d scare it off. So I tried to get a quick sketch, and I must have scared it because it started attacking my hair.” She can’t help as a laugh escapes her.

“You could have been hurt.” Ford’s voice is soft as he scoulds her.

“But I wasn’t.” She teases.

“Please promise me you won’t go off on your own again? I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.” Ford told her seriously.

She stops smiling when she realises Ford is actually upset, not with her, but by the fact she could have been hurt. She takes his hands, which were still on her face, and holds them in hers. She leans up and gives him a soft, reassuring kiss.

“I promise.” She whispers.

“Check this out!” Stan shouts and holds the unconscious ratbird in between them by its feet.

She shrieks with surprise and jumps away from Ford. “Stanley that’s disgusting!”

“What!? I thought you like rodents!” He laughs, shaking the bird closer towards her as she takes another step back.

“I wouldn’t pick up a wild rat or bird with my hands, or let it that close to my face! Who knows where that thing has been!” She scolds him. “If it wakes up and bites you I’m not helping you.”

In the commotion Ford slipped on some protective gloves from his pack. “Hold it still please Stanley.” Stan complies and Ford gently stretches its wings open and begins to list off observations about it that she quickly sketches down. “It’s wingspan is too small to carry it far. That’s probably why it is native only to this island.” He lists other things off like teeth size and tail length.

Stan gently set the animal down. “Think that’s enough for today right?”

The other two agree and they begin their trek back down the mountain. She is in front of them now to set the pace, and so the boys can’t lose sight of her. When the path begins to get wider, Ford falls back a bit to walk besides Stan.

“Thank you for earlier.” Ford tells his brother.

Stan looks at him confused. “Didn’t do nothing.”

“You were able to get to her first and protect her from the rat bird.” Ford reminds him.

Stan waves it off. “Don’t mention it.” Stan wouldn’t admit to Ford how scared he was to see her get attacked like that, he’d rather not think about it.

When they make it back to the ship the sun is already touching the horizon. It was Ford’s night to cook and the other two went to rest in their beds. When the food was ready Ford headed below deck to find them both asleep. He wasn’t surprised Stan had nodded off. Almost anytime he wasn’t actively moving or engaged in an activity he would fall asleep. But his believed fiance would normally be reading a book or be annotating her notes.

He gently brushes some hair out of her face and she stirs. She smiles up at him and grabs his hand and brings it down to her lips to kiss his palm. His heart flutters at her sweet act.

“I fell asleep.” She murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.

“I noticed.” He leans down to kiss her. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I feel perfect now that you’re here.” She giggles and he frowns. She frowns too, but only to mock him. “I feel fine Stanford. I guess today was just too exciting is all.”

“Well, why don’t we have dinner then we can go right back to bed?” He suggested.

“You’re perfect. I love you” She smiles up at him, eyes half lidded.

“I love you too.”

They stare into each other's eye, and neither of them notice the loud snoring has stopped. There’s a loud groan announcing Stan has awoken.

“If you love him so much why don’t you marry him?” Stan teases, she rolls her eyes.

The next morning Ford is the first to wake up. His love is tucked close to his side, buried under the blankets. He turns on his side to draw her impossibly closer. She makes a noise at the movement but doesn't awaken.

The bed feels a little warmer than normal. Maybe the day will be warmer than the forecast had predicted Ford thinks. Ford lays there for a while, enjoying the silence and warmth for a while until she begins to stir.

He feels her stretch under his grasp and she looks up at him eyes still droopy from sleep.

“Good morning my dear. Would you like to join me for some coffee?” Ford murmurs into her hair.

She shakes her head no. “It’s too cold.” She tries to burrow closer to Ford to get any extra warmth.

“I’ll go turn the heater on upstairs, join me when you’re ready.” Ford moves the hair away from her forehead and kisses her there then freezes. He moves the back of his hand to her forehead, then his cheek to confirm his thought. “You’re burning up!”

“No, it’s cold.” She denies.

“You must have a fever. Do you feel alright? When did you start feeling sick?” Ford doesn’t bother keeping his voice down and clearly wakes up his brother.

Stan rolls his eyes at the commotion and makes his way to the upper deck.

Ford quickly stands. “I’m going to get dressed then go find a doctor in town. With a town this small there must be one to make house calls.”

“Ford, please, there’s no need for that.” She sniffs, still laying in the bed, pulling the covers closer around her.

“There really isn’t.” Stan grumbled, coming back down the stairs, a cup of water in one hand. The other was full of an assortment of pills. “Take these.” He gruffly shoved both the water and pills at her. She obeyed, sat up, and quickly tooked the unknown pills Stan had handed her. “Go back to sleep.” She layed down and closed her eyes, rolling over to face the wall away from the brothers.

“What did you give her?” Ford whispered, concerned.

Stan places a finger over his lips and motions towards the upper deck. They sit inside the cabin where Stan had turned on the space heater.

“She of course came prepared and packed herself cold medicine.” Stan slides the first aid box across the table so Ford can examine the medicine boxes of everything he had given her. “Almost every winter she gets a cold or two. Her legs start to hurt and she gets really tired. Should have seen it coming’ yesterday but was a little distracted by the birds. She must have noticed, but she never says anything. Thinks she can power through a fever.” Stan pauses a moment to laugh. “There was one time I caught her working on the portal shivering and sweating’ bucket. Practically had to drag her back to bed. The older we’ve gotten through, the less stubborn she’s gotten at admitting she’s actually sick.”

It finally dawns on Ford just how much Stanley had taken care of her while he was gone. Sure, she had told Ford directly that he had, but he thought she was just putting in a good word for her friend. Ford knows it to be true now. He remembers once in college she went to class with a fever just to be sent back to her dorm. If Stan hadn’t been here to make her rest when she was sick, she would have worked herself until she passed out or worse.

The cabin is silent for a moment.

“Thank you, Stan.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, Stanley, listen.” Ford looks at his brother and there are visible tears in his eyes. “She had told me before that you had taken care of her in my absence. I hadn’t thought much about it, since she's always been so strong and independent. I know she's also stubborn. If you hadn’t been there to make her rest… Thank you Stanley, truly, for taking care of her while I was gone.” Ford places his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. Stan returns the action, not commenting on the noticeable tears.

“She’d probably be happy to have you back downstairs to keep her warm.” Stan says, looking away from his brother. He doesn't want to see him cry, or he knows he will cry as well.

“I think you’re right.” Ford stands and goes to join her back in bed.

---------- Ford wasn’t exactly excited to go to the carnival on the boardwalk, but her and Stan conveyed it would be fun.

“It’ll be like the one back home! Remember when we tried to join the circus with our pet possum?” Stan laughed a deep belly laugh as they made their way past the ticket booth.

“You never told me you had a pet possum.” She's walking next to Ford, his hand is held tight in hers.

“But he told you about trying to join the circus?” Stan inquires.

“I’d argue he was more your pet than mine.” Ford argues.

They make their way around the attractions, eat some fair food, and play a few games. She has two stuffed animals they boys had won for her in her hands, and is filled with joy.

“You there, miss, would you like to know your future?” A voice calls to her, and she turns to see a fortune teller beckoning her towards their tent. The fortune teller's eyes are glassy and they don’t hold her gaze, they hold a long cane indicating they are blind. She feels an arm tighten around her shoulder.

“Fortune tellers aren’t to be trusted.” Ford tells her.

“It’s just for fun,” she comments. “There’s no way they could actually know my future.”

“I’ve traveled to different dimensions. I think almost anything is possible at this point.” Ford reminds her.

“I say we do it. I’d like to know when I get filthy rich.” Stan begins walking into the tent.

She tried to follow in after him but the fortune teller held up their hand. “Only one person inside the tent at a time please.”

So Ford and her wait outside the tent. It’s only a few minutes later when Stan exits with a huff. “You’re right, total scam, they don't know anything.”

The fortune teller exits the tent again and points over to her and Ford. “The six fingered one next.” Then enters the tent.

A chill runs up her spine. The teller was clearly blind, but to call Ford out like that. She shares a surprised look with Ford, who surprisingly goes into the tent after them.

Stan is clearly still mad about whatever he had been told, so she takes his hand. “I’m sure whatever they said it wasn’t true. Like you said, probably just a scam.”

Stan looks down at her warm smile and sighs. “You’re right kid. Just a scam. I should know.” They both share a laugh.

Ford exits the tent looking lost in thought.

“You’re next girly.” The teller holds open the flap for the tent and she makes her way in. The room looks bigger on the inside and there are two chairs on either side of a table with a fake looking crystal ball.

She sits and watches the fortune teller places their hands on the ball and thinks for a second before speaking. The ball lights up and smoke swirls around in it. “I would ask what you’d like to know about your future, but I already know what knowledge you seek. It weighs heavy on your heart. Knowing the truth might be even more of a burden. Would you still like to know?”

She thinks for a second. If the fortune teller was being honest and knew what she wanted to know, what she always thinks about, then she wants to know. “Will Ford and Stan die before me? I don’t think I could lose Ford again, and well, Stan is my best friend.”

The teller nods their head and hums. “As I suspected. Losing the ones you love is a heavy buren. Unfortunately you must bear the burden again, fortunately you only must bear it once.”

“Who?” Her voice quivers.

“As I said, losing someone you love is difficult, as you know. He cannot see his brother lost again. He will go first. You will be needed to comfort the six fingered one. This universe isn’t always fair, but it seems it will go easy on you, and you will not have to lose him again.” They remove their hand from the ball and the lights and smoke fade. “Now you know, you must live with this knowledge the rest of your life.”

She looks down at her hands and nods, then stands to exit the tent. She finds her boys standing exactly where she left them. Still looking lost in thought and a little angry. She pulls Ford into a hug and draws him from his thoughts.

“What did they tell you?” Ford asks, returning the hug.

She rests her chin on his chest to look up at him with a small smile. “That I’ll get to spend the rest of my life with you, and that’s all I want.”

“They really tell you that?” Stan grunts, clearly not happy with what he was told.

“No,” she confesses. “But they didn’t have to say that for me to know it, and-” She turns to look back at the tent and sees it's gone. She turns quickly to confirm what she sees if real. Then turns back to the twins, whose jaws are dropped.

The three share a look then agree to head back to the ship for the night.

Stan tosses and turns that night. He can’t seem to sleep. What the fortune teller had told his replays in the back of his mind and he’s still pissed about it. He throws off the sheets and puts on his coats and boots and heads to the upper deck. To his surprise, he wasn’t alone.

“Why are you up so late kid?” Stan slumps down onto the bench by her.

“I imagine for the same reason you can’t sleep.” She leans her head against her friend with her sigh.

There's a moment of silence between them. The only sound is the waves gently crashing on the nearby shore and the soft groan of the boat as it moves gently with the sea.

“What did they tell you?” They ask in unison. They both breath out a laugh.

“You first.” She says.

He thinks for a moment. “They told me I’m going to die before you and Ford. Ford, I get, he’s healthy and in shape.” She elbows him. “Not implying you ain’t! It’s just, I didn’t want to die before you is all. I’ve caused you enough suffering.”

She places her hand on his shoulder. “Stanley, don’t think like that. You haven’t caused me any suffering. You’re my best friend.”

He runs his hands down his face. “It’s my fault Ford got lost in the portal for thirty years, it’s my fault you didn’t get to start a family with him like you had planned to. It’s my fault you didn’t get to get married yet. It’s my fault that-”

“Stanley!” She shouts sternly at him and he turns to face her, surprised by the authority in her voice. She takes his hand in hers. “Stan you can’t think like that. You know I’ve forgiven you a long time ago with what happened with Ford. The rest of it… It doesn’t matter, because if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have him back. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have met the most amazing great niece and nephew ever. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be sailing the seas right now with the two people I care the most about in the world, discovering amazing anomalies like I’ve always wanted to.”

Stan’s face is turned from hers but he gives her hand that’s holding his a tight squeeze. There's another moment of silence. “What did they tell you?” His voice croaks, she wouldn’t mention how he reached his free hand up to wipe his tears.

“They told me about the same.” She confesses. “That you’ll die before me, but I’ll be here for Ford.”

Stan Turns back to look at her. “Do you…” Stan doesn’t really want to finish the thought. He doesn’t want to think about their mortality.

“I’ll go before Ford. They said it was the universe going easy on me.” She smiles up at Stan, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes.

He pulls her into a tight hug. “Should we tell Ford?” She sniffs as tears sting her eyes.

“No. He wouldn’t want to know.”

----------- “Do you hear that?” Stan asks.

Ford and her are both sitting at the table noses in a book in the upper cabin of the ship. She and Ford listen, share a glance with each other, then look back at Stan.

“No,” they chime in unison.

Stan is driving the boat towards their next destination where there had been reports of strange ocean tides. He smacks his ear with the hearing aid.

“I must be picking up radio waves again.” He grumbles.

An hour later the two bookworms are asleep as Stan still mans the wheel, this time he hears the sound again. His head feels hazy and his body feels warm. He turns the boat towards the sound and begins to follow it.

Ford and her are jostled awake as the ship hits a large wave. They’re both lifted for a second from their seats before landing back down with a thump.

“Stanley what the hell is happening?” Ford is the first to notice the situation. The weather around them is awful. Rain pounds onto the ship, the boat jumps as it passes over enormous waves, going faster than she's ever seen it go. Lighting and thunder crash outside. Stan should have seen the storm coming.

Speaking of Stan. He’s standing at the wheel of the ship, eyes glued forwards, he doesn’t even notice Ford yelling at him. Ford pushes Stan out of the way and he falls to the floor. Suddenly Stan sits up and looks around.

“Where the hell are we?” He asks, hand held to his head.

“We should be asking you that, seeing as you were the one driving the last two hours!” She barks before reaching under the chairs for their life vests. She tosses the boys theirs and secures her own, they quickly buckle theirs as well.

“I don’t, I don’t know what happened.” Stan looks lost for a second. “I can’t remember.”

Her heart hurts for her friend. She knows that must be scary for him but now isn’t the time for comfort. Ford begins to bark orders, she helps Stan to his feet.

They begin securing lines and sails, making sure all objects are secured down so they won’t cause the three of them harm.

Suddenly she hears a noise and freezes. Her head feels hazy and her body feels warm. It seems as if her body is moving on it’s own as she begins to walk towards the door and exits the cabin. A strong hand grabs her arm.

“What are you doing?” Ford screams over the rain. Stan had taken the wheel again.

Her eyes are glazed over and she tries to continue walking towards the railing. Ford begins to drag her back inside but she resits. She freezes and he stops trying to pull her. She turns and points.

“There.”

Ford turns to see what she’s pointing at, and it’s the largest wave he’s seen in his whole life. He quickly wraps his body around her and tries to make it back into the cabin before the wave hits, but he’s not quick enough. The water envelops their bodies and they are thrown against the railing. The ship pops back up over the waves again and Ford looks into her eyes.

She's over the railing, dangling off the ship, her only tether is Ford’s hand.

“Don’t let go! I’ve got you!” He shouts desperately holding onto her and the ship.

Her body is like a rag doll as it’s slammed into the ship with the waves. She looks back up at Ford, eyes still glazed, and lets go of his hand, falling into the inky water below.

The second her body pops back up from water her head clears. Her life jacket inflated when she hit the water. The last thing she remembers was she was on the ship with the boys. A wave overtook her and she pushed back under the water. When she comes back up she realises she hears Ford screaming.

It’s dark and all Ford can see is the automatic light on her life vest getting further and further from them. He’s screaming for her, and for Stan to move the boat in her direction.

She tries to scream for him but is pushed under water again. When her head resurfaces she struggles for a breath before the same thing happens again. Coming back up this time she sees the ship be covered by a wave, then herself. This time when she comes back up she sees the light of the ship are gone. She feels something grab her foot, and is dragged under the water.

Ford feels warmth all around him. His eyes fluttered open and he squints as rays of sun blind his eyes. Waves softly lap and his boots and he quickly sit up as the events that just unfolded flood his mind. He looks around quickly hoping to see his love, or his brother.

Stan isn’t far from him and Ford hops to his feet to run from him. He falls to his knees and sees he’s breathing, Ford begins to shake his brother. “Stanley! Are you alright?”

Stan’s hand comes up to swat his brother away. “Five more minutes.” He mumbles.

Ford doesn't hesitate to slap him across the cheek.

Stan is quick to sit up. “What the hell was that for?”

“Do you not remember what just happened?” Ford barks.

Stan’s eyes grow wide in horror. “She went overboard… Didn’t she?”

Ford slumps forward and his hands cover his face. “I had her, she was in my hands and she… She let go.”

“She let go?” Stan echos in confusion.

“She had the same look in her eyes that you did when we found you steering the ship into the storm.” Ford breathing is quick and ragged, the panic of what’s happened starts to over take him. “I… Oh god, I-,”

“Shut your yap,” Stan commands. “You hear that?”

At first all Ford can hear is the gentle crashing of the waves onto the shore, then he hears it. The distant call of a voice. A very familiar feminine voice.

Ford’s eyes frantically scan the beach both ways looking for the source when he sees her. She must have spotted him at the same time because she begins to sprint towards him. Ford is quick to his feet and meets her halfway. Ford pulls her into a crushingly tight hug as tears fill both of their eyes.

“I thought I had lost you.” He cries into her hair. “I don’t know what I would do if I had.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” She sobs. “We’re safe now.” She whimpers against his chest.”

They stay there in each other’s embrace, until Stan slowly walks over to them.

“Glad you’re alright kid.” Stan smiles.

She grabs Stan and pulls him into the hug. He grumbles something but hugs both of them. After a moment they pull back. Ford’s hands are still clutching the back of her wet, sandy shirt. Ford and her look at each other and share a breathy laugh, and begin to wipe the tears away from their eyes.

“Now that we’ve had that lovely reunion, where are we and where’s the ship?” Stan frowns.

“Destroyed, I'd imagine.” Ford clears his throat.

“Actually…” She takes Ford’s hand and begins to lead them down the beach the way she had come. “When I had gone overboard, my mind cleared when I hit the water. I saw the ship get taken over by a wave and thought the worst. Something grabbed my foot and dragged me under, but…”

They round the corner on the beach and see Stan O’ War II, unharmed, anchored off shore. Ford and Stan both notice some splashing around the ship that wasn’t like normal waves. The brothers share a look.

“How is it not damaged?” Ford is in awe of the vessel's perfect condition.

“Turns out, we’ve had a guardian angel this whole trip we didn’t know about.” She smiles.

“Who?” Stan asks.

“Mable.” She laughs as theirs another splash in the water, this time closer to the shore.

The brothers both see the end of a tail then a few seconds later, a head pops up.

“Ford, you might remember what Mable had written in the journal about meeting her friend, Mermando. Turns out she still writes to him and told him about our trip and asked him and his people to look out for us.” She waves over at the head that had popped up signaling to him it was safe.

“It’s the least I can do to repay my friend. If it wasn’t for her then I might still be trapped in Gravity Falls.” Mermando smiles. He had swum over to them as far as he could without leaving the water.

“A real mermaid, huh?” Stan grunts.

“Fascinating.” Ford muses.

“He and a few others were able to pull us to safety after we were lured into the storm.” She tells them.

“Lured?” Ford repeats.

“Yes, unfortunately two of you had been affected by a siren’s song. They’re like merpeople, only they crave violence.” Mermando shakes his head.

“We really can’t thank you enough.” She sighs, giving Ford’s hand a squeeze. “And please, don’t mention this to Mable. I wouldn't want her to worry.”

“She will hear nothing of it. You have my word. Farwell Pines!” And with that, Mermando splashes under the water and is gone.

“Darn it, I should have asked him some questions while I had him here.” Ford brings a hand to his mouth in thought.

She playfully shoves him. “I say we should be happy that we’re alive.”

“You know what I say?” Stan asks and begins stripping his clothes. “I say we have a beach day! Been forever since we were in a warmer climate like this!” He splashes into the water in just his underwear, leaving the other two behind.

“What do you say, my love?” Ford pulls her to his chest.

She wraps her arms around his neck. “Having a nice calm day after almost drowning to death? I think we deserve it.” She plants a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and begins striping down to her underwear. “Race you to the water.”

Ford doesn’t have to be asked twice before he follows suit removing his clothes.

After hours of relaxing on the beach and playing in the water like children, the sun had begun to set. Stan had made his way back to the boat leaving only her and Ford on the beach.

Ford is laying on his back, her head rests against his shoulder. His arms are tightly wrapped around her. Her fingers absentmindedly trace the knit pattern on his sweater.

“I can’t believe out of anywhere I could be in the world right now, I’m here with you.” She whispers.

He hums and she can feel his chest vibrate under her cheek. She turns her head to look at him. His eyes are closed but there's a smile on his face.

“Are you asleep?” She giggles.

He hummed a sound to tell her no.

She breathes out a laugh and sits up. “Let’s head back before the sun sets all the way.”

He opens his eyes half lidded and smiles at her. She takes his hand and helps him sit up. His hands move to her face to draw her in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---------- “Alright, there. I think that will work.” She places the tablet down on the table she and her boys are sat at.

“Are you sure you set it up right?” Ford asks.

She rolls her eyes. “I helped build an interdimensional portal. I think I can figure it out.”

“I just wanted to make sure. You remember what happened when you tried to set up our vhs to record Saturday Night Dead.” Ford reminds her.

“That was one time! It’s not my fault the vhs caught fire!” She huffs.

“Can you two stop arguing like an old married for a couple?” Stan groans.

Ford and her share a look and smile. Their attention is pulled away from each other when the tablet begins to make noise.

“Oh, it’s ringing!” She leans forward and presses the green answer button. “Hello? Kids, can you hear us?”

She's greeted with the sound of laughter. “You’re too close to the camera. Move back a little.” She moves back and the screen reveals Dipper and Mable.

“I told you I set it up just fine!” She pats Ford’s chest.

“Kids! It’s good to see you!” Stan greets.

“You guys look so cute in all your boat gear!” Mable squeals.

“Yeah you guys look really cool!” Dipper confirms.

“How has school been going!” Ford asks.

“Great! I got accepted into some senior level classes for next semester.” Dipper cheers.

Mable pushes dipper aside to hog the camera. “And I got a boyfriend!”

Dipper shoves Mabel back to get back in frame. “Yeah, and he’s actually not awful and kinda normal?”

“Congratulations to you both.” She smiles and leans her head against Ford’s shoulder.

They continue to talk and catch up for almost an hour.

“So we can come back to Gravity Falls next summer for sure?” Dipper inquires.

“Absolutely! I've been in contact with Fiddleford and he said we are more than welcome to stay with him in the old Northwest manor.” Ford confirms.

“Soos also said you’re welcome to sleep over at the shack whenever you want.” Stan chimes in.

“I can’t wait to see you two again! You’re really the best great niece and nephew ever.” She comments.

“You’re the best graunt ever!” Dipper and Mabel speak in unison, then begin to giggle and shove each other.

“See you two in a few months!” With that they end the call.

“A month and four weeks, four days, and six hours.” Ford says precisely.

“But who's counting?” She teases.

“And only a month, fours weeks, two days, and four hours until you become my wife.” Ford pulls her close, Stan rolls his eyes and leaves the upper cabin.

“Now that I am counting down to.” She plants a kiss to his cheek. “Mrs.Pines, I love how that sounds.”

“Well then, Mrs. Pines?” He kisses her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips. “Will you do the honor of being mine?”

“I already agreed to marry you, that’s why we’re getting married.” She laughs.

“I know, but I love hearing you say it. I still can’t believe you agreed to marry me.” He jokes. “Will you say it? Say you’ll be mine? Forever and always?”

Her finger came up to trace his jawline and lead his lips to hers. “Forever and always.”

#waiting for you part six #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls reader insert #ford pines x reader #please check my ao3 for all tags and warnings #a kudos and comments would be appreciated too

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iwaasfairy · 4 years ago

Note

thinking abt art student hanamaki who needs to find a model that’ll pose for him for his anatomy class sketches, and who better than his sweet little sister 🥺 even when he tells you that you’ll have to be fully nude, you don’t even bat an eye! anything to help your precious niichan!

poor hironii, his fingers trembling as you start to groan and huff from holding the position 🥺🥺 ohh if he kept his eyes closed for jus a second longer, he’b b able to manipulate all those pretty sounds into a lil vision of you lying underneath him, looking so cute n pliant 🥺

𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙳𝙾

art student hanamaki (´-ω-`) want him to make little sister his muse, praise and worship that pretty body until you’re shaking from his touch. thank you clare for indulging in our art student hiro again ily

tw incest, nonconsensual ‘pictures’

Nothing is more embarrassing. He’s supposed to be good at this. Supposed to be a professional in training. But his hands are so goddamn shaky that it’s become useless to put pen to paper entirely. He made you take a break, wrapped you back up in the soft robe and handed you some water, but now he’s stuck in the corner of the couch with your head resting against his arm, and for some reason that’s worse. Your chest and the line of your neck is put down on paper only because he had to busy his hands while staring at you. And he knows it’s wrong, he knows too, but you’re so precious when you’re unaware and blissfully ignorant. “Can I watch while we pause, niichan?” you ask, long lashes splayed out above your pretty pupils that look blown so wide.

He can’t help himself. “Of course, c’mere.” You crawl into his lap when he opens his arms, trying not to react when you shift around on his already hardening cock over and over until you find a comfortable space. After a while he has to grab for your hip to hold you still. “Stop wiggling though, I— can’t focus.” You pout, but relent, slumping into him with one arm swung around his shoulders so you can look, and your knees pulled to your chest. You reach up to mindlessly pick at the dark undercut while he draws, only the sound of the pencil and your breathing in the room for a while. He’s too tense to draw nice smooth lines, but you don’t seem to care much.

After a while, you rest your nose against his neck. “Are the other girls you draw like this better models?”

He almost chokes on his air at your croaky tone, pulling back to watch you. “What? No— why- why would you say that?”

As you shift towards him more, he has to bite through a groan, the curve of your ass pressing down right on his length. It takes too much effort not to rut back into you just a little, just to relieve some pressure. You start picking at the edge of his sweater, looking at the piercings at his collar bones instead of his eyes. “Because you almost never ask me, only when no one else is available,” you mumble, sinking into yourself a little more.

“Oh,” he drops his arms at that, putting aside the sketchbook and pencil. His hands hover at your sides then, and again you shift in his lap to turn towards him more. Fuck, it’s almost like you’re doing it on purpose now, but he knows you better. You just crave your big brother’s attention, always have. You always have tried too hard to gain his approval, and it’s lead him— thinking about you like this. It’s fucked up. When he doesn’t respond, you pull your hands away from him, already starting to apologize, but he grabs your wrists to keep you from leaving. “No, no, listen. Hey,” he says, waiting until you look, “you want me to… to ask you for this stuff?”

“I want you to think I’m good enough for it, niichan,” you pout, curling back up to his body even closer. This way your tits are pressed up against his chest and your naked body right on top of his lap and- it’s increasingly tempting to slip out of the room to go jerk off to the thought of you with the second. His pretty, innocent little sister. “Want Hiro nii to pick me instead of other people,” you say. That’s enough to have him tipping you over on the couch, ignoring your squeak as he comes to hover over you, slotting his hips between your legs.

“What the hell does that mean?” he asks, breathing in and out deeply as you stare up at him, your one hand on his chest. “You’re naked in my lap telling me to pick you. Wh- what the hell are you talking about, huh? I’m your big brother. Aren’t you thinking some weird things, huh?” Your wide eyes flick between his for a moment as he holds your wrists down beside your head, thigh coming up between your legs, breaths coming out shallow. But then you fight against the grip enough to brush your soft fingertips up his bicep and tracing over his tattoos with mindless swirls, and wrap your legs slowly around his waist. Hiro nii’s breathing stops completely for a moment when the soft of your naked pussy pushes up against his hard cock through just sweats.

“I- I found the other sketchbook, Hiro nii,” you whisper at him then, and in an instant everything feels like it’s crumbling around him. The other sketchbook. The one with his naked drawings of you when you’re in bed and defenseless, those with the quick doodles of you in the bath when you leave the door open and think he’s not looking, with drawings of you and him in bed and you rocking yourself on his cock— that sketchbook? He shivers when you seem to tighten your legs around him a little more again, hard length twitching between your bodies.

‘I’m sorry,’ is the first thing at the tip of his tongue, but you’re faster. Leaning in to bring your mouth right up to his, clinging to his shoulders. “You want to do this, right?” you say, and then you press forward until he can taste your lips. A few gentle pecks at first, until he regains himself to feel you pulling him closer, his fat cock between your legs and your nails digging into him through his sweater with a whine. “Please, niichan,” you pout, rolling your hips to him and pulling a groan from his throat. “Make me want it too, Hiro nii. I can be good for you.” Again you buck your hips to his, and again, until he has to pull away for a second to inspect you. Your robe is open and almost completely slid off one shoulder, your chest heaving and… your cunny glistening with slick. “See? Want you,” you bring your hand down then, spreading open your lips with two fingers and trailing them back up to your clit.

“I know you touch yourself to me, I walked in on you once. So show me, please.” That’s all he needs to pull his sweatpants down, sweater up and to drop forward, going back to between your legs as he kisses you breathless. Over and over, as he hurries to rub the drooling head of his cock into the warm wetness between your legs. You whine softly when he pushes inside the head, pulling away from his mouth to drop your face back and let your mouth fall open. He grabs your tits with both hands when you allow him to go deeper into your pretty, wet pussy, laving kisses all over.

“Fuck, my little sister’s too pretty, drives me crazy,” he grunts, watching your expression when he shoves himself in the last part of the way. Your walls stretched around his cock, clinging to him when he pulls back out. “Fucking- shit, you’re so tight.” And then when you cry his name when he thrusts back into you, he squeezes your skin between his fingers until his fingertips leave marks, grabbing onto your hips and yanking you back down onto him to start a hard, unforgiving pace. The slaps of skin meeting skin are loud, and so are his grunts as he mumbles your name. “Niichan’s gonna fuck your pretty, tight cunt until you never want anyone else again. Promise.”

#tw.incest #💫ch.hanamaki #🥧makki.chan

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givemeyourcrunchbars · 4 years ago

Text

Sequestered

Fern x f!reader

If there are any warnings I need to add, please let me know :)

The weight of the crown on your head was too much to bear today. You gently set it down onto the grass, next to you in the shade of the giant oak trees above you.

If someone were to ask you what it's like to be a princess, you would say it's a curse. For the past 15 years you've been raised, your father was stern and barely paid any attention to you. Suffering from neglect, you slowly watched him become more and more corrupt with power, forcing the entire kingdom to stay within its walls. As far as the common people knew, the outside was a mysterious place not to be messed with.

That's what power does to people. To have all these abilities at your hands, is a great responsibility. But most rulers toss those away, like a bag of trash being disposed into the garbage can.

You sighed, gazing across to the opposite side of the clearing you were sitting in. You raised your head to look up at the sky. Oh, what I would do to have a different life...

The rustling of leaves caught your attention. You gasped, quickly backing away into the shelter of the trees. Dad can't catch me being here!

"Hey."

You froze as relief washed over you. It wasn't your father.

You weren't allowed to leave the kingdom. Finding loopholes wasn't easy, so you didn't know what you'd do if he found out.

Carefully, you stood up, squinting at the figure standing at the opposite end of the meadow. Slowly, they- or it- stepped into the sunlight. You recognized him from your past adventures. Fern the Human.

"Hi," you replied warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know," he said. "Just exploring." Fern wore the same expression he did normally, a blank set of eyes and his mouth set in a straight line.

You nodded, your eyes darting around the clearing, at anything but him. You rarely interacted with outsiders, especially since you weren't allowed outside of your kingdom. So you didn't know how to act. All your social skills started chipping away because you were forced to stay inside all the time. "Princess duties".

"I haven't seen you around here before," the grass boy remarked. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" I repeated. That was a good question. Every single decision I've had to make and every emotion I've had was decided for me. So much so, that I wasn't sure there was any "me" left.

"I'm Y/N," you replied. Fern tilted his head.

"Where are you from?"

"Um." You struggled to find the words. He couldn't know about the kingdom, or else you would find yourself kicked out. What was even the purpose of telling him? It could only end badly. His curiosity would get the better of him, driving him him to see the kingdom for himself. Would Fern even try to save us?

Even though you wanted to rescue your people badly, the thought of them roaming around aimlessly in the Land of Ooo scared you. They barely knew anything about the outside, and the only information they did know altered their perspective to think of it in a bad light. Besides, what could Fern do to help? He's just one person.

"It's none of your business," you ended up blurting out. "I have to go." Your father wanted you home for the evening anyway. For what, he didn't say.

You turned away before you could hear Fern's reply, dashing off into the dense forest.

Taking a deep breath, you began to form an image of a raven inside your mind. Shapeshifting was still something you weren't good at. You were supposed to follow a certain set of rules as a princess, one of which being that you couldn't shapeshift into your raven form in the presence of other people. It was seen as impolite.

Focus on shapeshifting! You commanded yourself. Finally, you were able to fly, ruffling your wings a bit. You missed being able to soar.

"Wait!" Fern's voice yelled from behind you, his footsteps trodding through the layers of leaves on the forest floor. You sighed, flapping up to the tree tops and taking off. A feeling of dread gradually grew in your chest, facing the reality that you had to go back to your secluded life, with people that ignored and misunderstood you.

As the dark green leaves of the forest zoomed by beneath your feet, you began to wonder whether you should've listened to what Fern had to say. Eh, it probably wasn't important.

Directing your thoughts back to your destination, you vowed to come back to your happy place as soon as possible. It helped clear your head. Hopefully, Fern won't be there next time. The idea of talking to people made you uncomfortable. The people that you've trusted in the past have all either broken your trust, or just didn't care about you at all.

There's a crown here in the bushes, Fern observed, lifting the heavy piece of gold. It was a big ring, with an arm extending upwards, holding a small, rugged black crystal. Interesting.

Turning it over in his hands, something strange caught his eye. A carving on the back of the crown. It was barely illegible, but Fern could make out one name. Y/N.

"Where is your crown?" The Raven King hissed angrily. "The suitors are already here!"

"I don't know, Dad!" You frantically racked your mind, trying to remember where you had left it. A princess' crown was a part of her, as a role model and a symbol. But this time, it represented worth.

"Why are you making me marry someone I don't even know anyway?" You hurriedly glanced at your father, brows furrowed. Your father had invited a group of suitors to compete for your hand in marriage. They desired only the princess' heart, but it wasn't true love, like what you dreamed of as a child. They just wanted land, wealth, and power. Marrying you was their key to a happy life. Without your label as a princess, they would have no opportunity at all.

"You know very well why!" Your father growled. "This is going to be beneficial for the kingdom! Don't you want me to prosper?"

You started walking down the spiraling staircase that lead to the main hallways, unable to stay calm any longer. "I want the people to prosper," you replied, sending a spine-chilling glare to your father behind you. Before he could respond, you stomped away, into the main hallway where a line of antsy suitors stood waiting.

You definitely have a thing for walking out on people.

"Heya, Fern!" A boy wearing a worn, dual-toned green backpack greeted Fern, holding open the door that had separated the two just moments before. "Jake just made some meatloaf! Want some? It has your favorite- I mean our favorite garnishes." Finn grinned.

"No thanks," Fern replied, distracted. His eyes wandered all around the giant treehouse that stood over him, almost menacingly. Despite what Fern wanted to think, there was something about it that made him uneasy. When he thought of the treehouse, he thought of Finn, which in turn caused him to obsess over the fact that he wasn't Finn. Then who was he?

"No probs." Finn sounded a little disappointed, but cheered up when Jake called out that the meatloaf was ready from somewhere inside the house.

"By the way, can I ask you something?" Fern asked, taking something out of his backpack, which tumbled to the ground, causing him to groan in frustration. Finn turned back to his grassy friend while taking a plate of food from the unseen Jake. "What's up?"

He gasped when he saw the golden crown gleaming in the sunlight. "That belongs to one of the princesses!" He picked it up and handed it back to Fern.

Fern nodded, stowing it in his backpack. "I found it in the forest near Tree Trunks' house. I think this girl dropped it," he said.

"Whahf girl?" Finn said, trying to chew meatloaf at the same time. "PB? Fire Princess? Slime P?"

"No." Fern shook his head. "I've never seen her before, and honestly," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "She was scared of me." He sounded frustrated, his voice trailing off.

"Dude-"

"Why doesn't anything ever work out?!" Fern said in anguish. He curled his fingers in and out of his palm, trying to release the tension trapped in his mind.

"Calm down, dude," Finn exclaimed. "I can help you find her, don't worry! I've never seen this crown before either, so we can go together." He placed a hand on Fern's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"No!" Fern protested. "I wanna do it myself," he said, softer. "Can you just tell me how to find her?"

Finn looked taken aback for a second at his grassy friend's outburst, but nodded regardless. "You can ask the Candy People and the other kingdoms, they probably know who owns that crown." He handed Fern a map of the Land of Ooo, sketched out on a yellowed piece of paper.

Saying their goodbyes, Finn left Fern on his solo quest to find the mysterious princess.

The long and chaotic day was finally over. You sank down to the floor, your back against the door to your room. You stared at the king-sized bed. I hate this. I hate everything.

After you left your father standing on the stairs, you had awkwardly walked into the main hall. But that must have been the last straw for your father, because he still didn't join you, even after five minutes. He ended up sending a replacement to accompany you after a long time of waiting. You wished that the suitors didn't keep glancing at the spot where your crown was supposed to sit while you stood with your hands clasped in front of you, staring at the doorway your father was going to follow you through.

I still have to get the crown back, you thought. Where did I leave it? The only place I would've lost it would be... Then you realized. The clearing! Of course! Oh no, I have to go there right now!

You raced over to the small window in your bedroom, peeking your head out. Seeing practically no one outside, you transformed into your raven form and hopped on the windowsill. Suddenly, an object was hurled at you from below. Looking down, you saw a small child chucking pieces of corn at you.

"Get out of there, you stupid crow!" He yelled. Close enough.

You carefully flapped your wings, flying high above the kingdom. As soon as you were out of reach, the child gave up trying to knock you out of the sky and returned to his home, resuming the quiet atmosphere the kingdom always held during evenings.

Night had almost fallen over Ooo when you finally arrived at your meadow. Landing in the spot where you had sat earlier that day, you turned back into a human and rummaged through the bushes for your long lost crown. As the minutes ticked by, you began to grow more frustrated. Where is it?! If I lose it forever, I'm done for.

"Huh?" You said out loud. Prying apart the branches of a blueberry bush, you found a few grass blades attached to the rough leaves, reminding you of Fern. You stood up. Why not just see if Fern had it? He wasn't the scavenger type, but something as mysterious as an unknown princess' crown was sure to fascinate him.

Ugh, the sun is setting. You sighed in defeat, vowing to visit Fern the next day to take back the circlet. Another day that's ending, another gloomy morning to look forward to. But this time, you had a mission to accomplish.

#adventure time fern x reader #adventure time #fern x reader #adventure time x reader

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illyaana · 3 years ago

Text

Cursive Ink - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Collab: Pain Tolerance by @haikyutiehoe

Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~

Tags: Yamaguchi's POV, Angst, Fluff, Yamaguchi x Tattoo Artist! Reader, Binaural

Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)

Word Count: 2552

A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon

⋯⋯ ⫍ Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Want to get a personalized drabble about your love life with an anime character you like? Check out my 50 followers event's post here! You can choose any character from BNHA, Haikyu!!, AOT, JJK and Kuroko no Basketball <3

“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.

“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”

“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”

Lies.

You are lying to me.

You are in love with me.

You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.

I know you can.

what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”

“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”

I said yes - I know I did.

That doesn’t mean I meant it.

You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.

Why aren’t you realising it?

I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.

I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.

I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.

“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”

I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.

That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.

I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.

I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.

I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.

One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.

“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.

“I don’t believe that.”

I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.

I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.

I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.

He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?

The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.

Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”

My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.

⁜

I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.

I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.

I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.

You made me make you my everything.

My voice was tuned to calm you down.

My hands we moulded to keep you warm.

My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.

But I do - I need you to be me.

One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?

You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.

They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.

You are the only one who wants more.

You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.

You are the one craving for their touch.

You want them, but they don’t want you.

I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.

I care about you fucking me up like this.

I will no longer wait for your messages.

I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.

I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.

You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.

⁜

“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.

I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.

“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.

I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.

“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”

“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.

“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.

Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?

“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.

You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.

“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.

“N- no.”

Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”

“T-Thanks.”

God, stop stuttering.

“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”

You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.

Cute.

They called me cute.

I’m breathing, right?

Okay, I’m breathing.

As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.

It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.

I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.

“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.

You laughed.

“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.

You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.

“What are you waiting for? Sit.”

⁜

“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.

“Yeah, on my middle finger.”

I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.

“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”

You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.

Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.

It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.

“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.

“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”

You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.

I loved it.

It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.

I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.

“I took a few creative liberties, but-”

“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”

You’re amazing.

You smiled, getting off your chair.

“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”

⁜

“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.

Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“I guess…” I whisper.

“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.

People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.

“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.

You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.

“Open your mouth, my liege.”

After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.

Ooh, mango.

“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.

It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.

I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.

Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.

A soft thank you came from you as you continued.

Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.

So cute.

“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.

You’re interesting, Y/N.

I nod.

“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.

“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.

“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.

Thank God they didn’t listen to them.

“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.

You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.

“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.

“Wait - we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.

“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.

“Come on!” I say, laughing.

“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.

You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…

⁜

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.

“And I you, my friend.”

I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.

I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…

I walk back to the cashier.

“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.

“No, no…”

Come on, say it.

“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.

Holy shit.

“Yes, please.”

You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.

How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?

“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”

“Okay!” I smile.

Holy shit. I did it.

“See you again, ‘guchi.”

⁜

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