#cause the others I could do without the shortcut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

auspicioustidings · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober Day 22

Moniker: Keegan Risk Level: Low. Keegan has never been detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Femdom, pegging Safeword: Refer to first brief.

Ghost and Keegan requested this for you. You’re in full control this time around - Price

“Do not let him top from the bottom” Farah ordered as she tightened the harness around your hips.

The bite of it combined with the weight of the cock fitted to it was making you feel a heady rush of something. Arrogance maybe, because you found you wanted to top. You felt like you could put Keegan right in his place with this on you.

“Don’t assume this” Ghost said, grabbing the cock and tugging which had your hips following, “will get him to play nice. You need to be mean with Keegan if you want to break him into a slut. It’s a fight with him, you ease up and you’ll be on your back.”

“Ridden hard and put away wet darlin’” Alex added with a chuckle.

Some of the arrogance faded away given it felt sort of silly to be getting a pep talk off of three people to fuck one right in the hallway outside of the play room. You felt your hands moving to cover the frankly too big cock jutting from your pelvis and dug your nails into your palms to stop them when Nova walked past and smirked. It was pretty big and it honestly seemed a bit misshapen, a weird bump on it.

Did they have to do this in the damn hallway? You’d went from feeling like some masculine God ready to rock the world of anyone with a willing hole to feeling like you were about to get eaten alive for trying assert any sort of dominance what so ever.

“He is only teasing habibi, you will do wonderfully” Farah said, noticing how your puffed out chest had collapsed inward with your confidence.

“Hey” Ghost said, his thumb and fingers gripping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “You go in there all timid and don’t give him a fight and I’m going to come in and leather that cunt of yours with a paddle, you understand me princess?”

Somehow you suspected that Ghost would not make it an erotic experience. Weirdly it did give you a boost to hear him growl at you like that because you wondered if he had ever held Keegan down and had his way. Given how firm he was in his insistence you do the same you suspected yes. Was this something Keegan wanted or something he needed to keep him in line?

You were here to give them what they needed after all.

“I understand sir.”

You walked in and the door snicked closed behind you. It was all very sensual, low light and a plush bed covered in velvety red blankets.

“Aww you’ve lost me money kitten, I bet you’d puss out” Keegan said, your head whipping around to find him lounged in an armchair in the corner.

Jesus, he was dressed up for you and it wasn’t stopping him from reclining back, one leg thrown over the arm rest to fully display himself. You’d never seen a man in a corset, but he was bound tightly in a gorgeous scarlet one. It didn’t quite cover his pecs, his nipples peeking over the top. The one other thing he wore were pretty thigh high sheer stockings.

It was such a strange sensation it caused in you, your brain trying to use those little shortcuts about gender without your permission and misfiring. He wasn’t any less masculine and something about those things on him had your pussy wet and excited.

There was a matte black sort of puck between his legs… a plug. He was fucking plugged. How could anyone be tarted up, have a plug in their ass to prep them for getting railed and yet still look like the smuggest person on the planet?

You lifted your t-shirt to show the still red healing slashes on your ribs and raised an eyebrow. Puss out? Of fucking him? You’d taken a glorified fucking torture session and only stopped at getting permanently branded, you were hardly about to refuse pounding some bloody respect into him.

“Careful, you show off marks that I didn’t put there and I might get jealous” he said.

There was a genuine growl of jealousy underneath the words that was both surprising and delighting. It felt good to inspire that ugly feeling in someone. But it was also the threat of him taking control which bristled.

“On the bed Keegan. I’m not the one getting marked up today” you said, dropping your shirt to cover the marks again.

“What was it you said? Make me.”

This fucking asshole. Here you were nervous and unsure and all he could do was rile you up. You’d make him alright. You marched forward and hiked up your right foot to rest it firmly on his cock. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened in some sort of dark delight.

“I said on the fucking bed” you said, pressing your foot right into his balls for emphasis.

He sucked a breath through his teeth in pain but laughed.

“How do you want me kitten? On my back with my legs spread?”

You cocked your head at him.

“Hm. Feet on the floor, bent over the bed. It’d be a shame to not get a nice view of the lacing on that pretty corset.”

You removed your foot and stood tall as he got up. Oh you liked the way the corset kept his posture straight, how he had to float up out of the chair like some trained lady. You liked how there was the whisper of the silky material of the stockings rubbing against one another as he walked and his thick thighs rubbed. You liked when he bent over the bed and his cock jumped from the movement of the plug inside him, unable to keep up the same unbothered mask the rest of him could.

“Oh baby, you’re all wound up aren’t you?” you cooed, “who put that plug in hm? Did they tease you terribly?”

“Or maybe I put it there myself. Wanted to make sure you could even find the hole for your bit of plastic kitten, I know you’re not very practiced.”

You snorted a laugh and his eyes were full of mirth looking coyly over his shoulder at you stood behind him. It was sort of fun being on this end of things, having the end goal be that you’d dominate him rather than like before when he was spanking you. Then it was always an eventuality that you’d float off into submission. You were starting to fizz with excitement about what it would be like to be the one putting someone else there.

“Well then, better get a lot of practice in. I’m sure your ass can handle it baby” you teased, pressing that plug a little and delighting in how it made his body ripple with tension. “Bet you’ll be silky and tight on my cock.”

“Bet you’ll barely last” he snapped back.

Oh, is that how you sounded when you clearly wanted to goad someone into fucking you? It was so… cute. So evidently snark coming from neediness. Whoever had worked him over for you had done a very good job of having him on edge and desperate that it wasn’t going to be impossible to get him to break on your cock and beg.

“That would be your fault, how could anyone last when you look so gorgeous laced up and cock hungry.”

And he did look gorgeous. The lacing up his back with exquisite, someone had taken time to do this properly. You ran your fingers down the boning on the side, smiling when he wriggled his ass because you were sure he hadn’t realised he was doing it.

Outwith this play room where you knew so definitively that you were safe you’d have worried about doing this, worried that there were safely concerns about pounding into his stomach when he was corseted. But you knew you didn’t need to worry about it because even if it was only the two of you in this room, there were eyes watching and keeping you both safe.

He groaned low when you played with the plug, pumped it to it’s widest point and back in to his ass a few times before pulling it out and admiring the little flood of lube that came with it. His hole flexed, not quite closing.

You knew his prostate would be sensitive and you tried to remember how Farah had been with you when she had explored with her fingers to find where you were most responsive.

The plug was tossed on the bed next to his head and it landed with a muffled thump. No need to start with just one finger when he had been well stretched, two sank in with no resistance, only the silky heat of his walls sucking your digits.

“Fuck Keegan, so wet and needy.”

“Fuck kitten, so slow and scared” he snarked back.

“Don’t be such a brat” you said, lightly smacking his ass and feeling your cunt throb with the sharp sound of it. “I’ll give you hard and fast when I’m good and ready.”

“Fuck!”

Ah ha. Found it. You pressed your fingers hard into the flimsy barrier to his prostate and his legs shook. Now you knew why Farah had been so determined to know exactly what angle to use, because having his body react like that was heady.

“Shh there we go, good boy” you said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his back just above the corset.

The boning and lacing was keeping his spine straight, keeping him from arching the way you knew he wanted to. Part of you wondered how it must feel. Maybe you’d let him lace you up one day. If he was good of course.

“Come on! Just fuck me already” he barked, still not giving in but definitely nearing the edge.

Honestly you sort of knew he was helping you here. From immediately getting you riled up when you walked in to get you out of your head to giving you cues like this to subdue him, Keegan was guiding you beautifully on how to dominate him. You obviously wouldn’t ever acknowledge it out loud, but you appreciated it.

“Settle down baby, I want you to savour it. Want you to relax.”

You punctuated your statement with what you were hoping was a nice prostate massage. By the way he ground his head into the bed to hide his whining you thought you were probably doing a good job. He was so fucking messy inside, your fingers slick from the sheer amount of lube that had been trapped by the plug.

Or maybe a little sticky actually, maybe a little less like lube and more like something else.

“Did someone use you and leave you wanting baby?”

You were almost jealous which was odd, but when you thought about it the feeling was coming from this new persona, this dominant side of you. The heavy weight between your legs felt very real right now and your hind brain was furious that someone else would put their cock where yours belonged. You wanted to fuck him better, rail him until he was fucking moulded to your shape.

He stayed quiet, as if nervous. The power of that went straight to your dick. He was nervous to tell you anything that might displease you because he was giving in, submitting to you. The crack of your hand on his ass was harder this time.

“Asked you a question.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what Keegan?”

“Yes someone used me and left me wanting.”

You smacked him hard on the same spot, nearly losing your fucking mind at how your handprint was blooming red on his ass.

“Sir!”

“Was that so hard baby? God, I really have to teach you everything don’t I?”

“Sorry sir.”

You rubbed the mark lovingly as a reward for how sweet he went. Perfect. Nice and melted under your dominance. Nice and ready to take your fat cock so you could fuck that cum out of him, have it squelching out around you. You could take a guess at who exactly had tormented him, but you were happy to leave it a mystery. Maybe it was more than one person, maybe Keegan enjoyed a train. What a slut.

You fed him your fingers and he sucked the lube and cum off of them like he was starving for it. Slut.

“Let me in” you grunted, holding your cock and guiding it to his hole.

You laughed at him when he choked a little from the stretch. This wasn’t that nice beginner dick Farah had fed your pussy with, this was fucking big. When you pushed your way in there were two thoughts. One, you appreciated those with cocks more now because you could already tell this was going to be a workout. And two, the little bump deformity on the cock settled right against his prostate when you sank as deep as possible.

Jesus fucking Christ. This cock was designed exactly for him. You were literally perfect for him, filling him just right.

“You absolute whore baby, who did you beg to make this for you hm? Who did you get on your knees for to make it happen? Fuck look at you just swallowing it, holy shit” you hissed, really feeling the squeeze of his ass around that silicone as if it was your dick.

“Sir, please!” he finally begged, trying to push himself back even though you were already as deep as you could be.

You lost it and hammered into him. Your cunt throbbed in time with your thrusts and your hips fucking hurt with how aggressively you were fucking him, but my God the little submissive moans and whines could sustain you forever.

Logically you knew you couldn’t cum in his ass, but you were determined to fucking try. When you slipped out you just growled and grabbed you slippery cock to shove it right back in. It was such a compliment how he took it, such a kindness for him to let you dominate and take it so nicely. You had thought how well you were treated with the financial compensation and the aftercare was too much for what you were doing, but not anymore. You could see now that to submit to someone was such a fucking gift.

He came untouched, the abuse his prostate was taking having him spurt all over the bed. You kept fucking him through it, the poor corset getting smeared with his own cum as he was jostled back and forward. When his legs just collapsed you swore as you struggled to keep him up by his hips.

Your cock bounced out of his ass with a wet pop as you tried to take his weight so he went gently to his knees rather than crashing down onto them. You caught your breath once he was settled, his shoulders and head still on the bed and his legs splayed on the ground.

His ass was wrecked and it was gorgeous like that, all red and puffy and twitching while the remainder of the cum and lube dribbled out. And he was so vulnerable like this. Totally at your mercy as he panted and tried to calm down. It made you freeze just a little. You’d never done aftercare for someone else. You wanted to, but with him so debauched you were a little scared to fuck it up.

You didn’t want him to hear you say it and think he had done anything wrong so you gave the camera a look and the hand signal for red, hoping you were conveying that you didn’t want to leave but you did want help.

It was a little surprising that it was Soap who quietly opened the door and came in, but then he had handled aftercare with you so beautifully your first day with him and they wouldn't have sent him if he was in what you were going to politely call one of his moods. He helped you with Keegan, gave you whispered guidance. When Keegan was a little more together and you were feeding him in the bath he told you that the aftercare needed to go both ways, asked if looking after him was making you feel good as well.

Huh, you guess you hadn’t even thought about it, but it had. The act of unlacing that corset had calmed you down, got you out of the dominant headspace you had started to get lost in. It helped that getting him out of it and the stockings caused your pussy to practically purr.

Soap nuzzled you and started to strip you down, mumbling how you needed to be taken care of too. He gave you a lazy orgasm on his tongue and fingers right by Keegan’s bath and popped you in right next to him after. Well almost right after, Keegan definitely had to give him a long look.

Your heart flip flopped over it all. Just over a week to go.

#mhairi'skinktober

142 notes · View notes

intergalacticfop · 1 year ago

Text

Minoan Heanos

The distinctive open-front dresses worn by Minoan women are probably even more iconic than the multi-layered kilts. Over time, there's dispute whether the garment is one piece or a separate bodice and skirt, but currently the one-piece theory is in ascendance.

The word heanos is derived from the Linear B logogram *146, wehanos. The wes- prefix, which is the squiggle in the middle, indicates a garment. Bernice Jones believes that this logogram represents the garment worn by Minoan men and women.

Marie-Louise B. Nosch, The Textile Logograms in the Linear B Tablets, pp 133-138

More research and construction below the cut:

The theory that the garment is a full-length tunic is further supported from imagery from the time, like these figures from the c. 1400 BCE Hagia Triada Sarcophagus. This detail from the sarcophagus shows three figures in some kind of procession, 2 women and 1 man. The woman at left wears a tunic with some kind of pelt as a skirt, and the other 2 figures wear tunics without anything over them, showing that they are one continuous, ankle-length garment.

Some of the most important resources for interpreting how the heanos was constructed comes from the two women depicted in the House of the Ladies in Akrotiri, wherein the side seams of the tunic are clearly visible running along the side of the body and under the arm.

details of figures from the House of the Ladies, Akrotiri, via Wikimedia Commons

advadbsvasb

Diagrams from Bernice Jones' book Ariadne's Threads, p. 82, via Gorgeous Tangents

The heanos itself is made of 3 pieces of fabric: 1 back and 2 fronts. These diagrams show a concave hem like on the labrys-shaped kilt but I went with a straight hem, which is an equally valid option. The end of the sleeves are level with the edge of the hem at the widest point. This would probably be the width selvage-to-selvage on the fabric, being narrower than fabric widths commonly are today. There are 4 seams: the shoulder seam, the two side seams, and a front seam (optional, but recommended if you would prefer not being arrested.) It may be tempting to fold the fabric across the shoulder, so the only sewing is side seams and a neck hole, but this makes a weaker garment overall. I used this as a shortcut in my fitting muslin and it caused tears and weak points at the three points of the front opening.

my fabric was a lightweight, moderately loose-woven cotton with a supplementary weave pattern in squares and diamonds. Linen or wool would have been more accurate but also? much harder to find from online quilting stores selling fabric for affordable prices. The main fabric is dark orange and the pattern is made out of pink/lilac threads. This weaving technique resulted in a LOT of long floats (unsecured expenses of thread) on the back--you can see how the wrong side of the fabric is much pinker than the right side. These floats could snag easily if I wasn't careful, so while it made a very effective visual for this tunic, I do not think that this fabric type would be viable for everyday wear. I'll leave it to people who actually know about weaving to ponder what more accurate weaving techniques would be.

Construction

The overall pattern is basically a T-shaped tunic, and the most important measurements are shoulder circumference, shoulder width, bust circumference, and the shoulder-waist length. In addition, you need measurements for the bicep, waist, shoulder-navel length, and hip circumference. After working out the fit with a muslin, I ended up with this pattern, 1 of 4 identical quarters.

Your first impulse may be to make the tunic very close-fitting, since the depictions in frescoes are skin-tight, but since the pattern has no added gusset this is a recipe for Cannot Move Arm. So I gave a very generous curve under the arm, which also made the dress look better when my arms were down, avoiding armpit wrinkles. I continued that ease into about an extra 2 inches added on to my waist measurement and plenty of extra space around my hips so that I could do exciting things like Sit Down.

I sewed the shoulder and side seams using the machine, and felled the raw edges on each side of the seam by hand with a whipstitch. I foided back the front edges of the v-neck instead of cutting them, which was a tip I got from the Gorgeous Tangents blog. This strengthens the neckline and keeps it from stretching, and also means that everything can be readjusted if you have size fluctuations or just want to modify the tunic into something more or less modest.

I whipstitched the front edges together by hand--the contrasting selvage didn't matter because it would be covered up by trim. I ended up cutting the tunic a liiiittle shorter than I wanted, so I finished it with some leftover bias binding instead of hemming it to conserve as much length as possible.

Trim

I custom-ordered the woven tape trim from Long Creek Mercantile. Both are made of wool--the "header band" and the hem trim are 1 1/4" wide and the center-front and cuff trim are 3/8" wide. I observed that most images of the Minoan heanos show trim with two colors at most, in a simple geometric or linear pattern, so I consciously restrained myself from ordering anything more elaborate. The clothing on Minoan frescoes is characterized by strongly contrasting colors, so blue trim was the most obvious, and best-looking option. Orange tunics with blue trim appear multiple time in art like the "Dancing Lady" fresco from Knossos:

Dr. Jones suggests that the band across the shoulder would historically have been a header band--a band of threads woven at the beginning of a project in order to properly space the warp bands (see her diagram at the beginning). That may be a reason why the shoulder trim often depicted under the front or sleeve trim, as shown above. Regardless, the trim almost always coordinates.

I sewed on the shoulder trim by hand, the sleeve and hem trim by machine, and the center-front trim with a combination of both.

Tassels

Many frescoes from Akrotiri and Hagia Triada show the ends of the supposed header band turned into tassels. This embellishment is not universal among heanoi, as you can see from the "Dancing Lady" above, but it does add a fun little something!

(yes, my Lounging Pants are very fashionable)

I turned the excess ends of the shoulder "header band" trim into fringes, knotting the yellow ones into a lattice and turning the blue yarns into tassels. The lattice-tassel appears on a fresco from Hagia Triada:

Reproduction of fragmentary fresco from Room 14 at Hagia Triada, Crete

The saffron gatherers from Akrotiri shown below have clearly displayed fringes at the ends of their sleeves. The one on the left has red fringes that appear knotted or ravelled/unravelled in an undulating pattern, and the one on the right has fringes that may be either beaded with papyrus-shaped leaves or cut into short tassels.

Another option is leaving the fringes loose, as seen in the Akrotiri frescoes from Xeste, room 3:

The final garment was super comfy, actually! It's much simpler to create than I thought it would be based on the frescoes, which made it all feel pretty magical when everything came together. I did think it was a little unusual how tailored this garment is, and the potential waste of fabric that comes from a shaped garment, especially compared to how later ancient greek clothing was mainly rectangles. I don't know enough about bronze-age and earlier clothing to have any idea how typical this was, since I'm extremely Not an expert on this subject, but am always open to learning more!

#historical costuming #minoan #minoan crete #reference #clothing reconstruction #bronze age #resources

504 notes · View notes

headkiss · 1 year ago

Note

I feel like I’m in withdrawal from ur Hotch stories!! I would love some sort of blurb w protective Hotch and BAU reader if ur taking requests for him!! Any scenario I honestly don’t even care I just love hurt/comfort w my guy

babe!!! not withdrawal!!!! thank u so much for requesting <3 i hope u like it | 0.7k fluff, teeny mention of blood

Hotch tries to stay calm on the job. He has to, really, to be as successful as he is. It’s hard with the things he sees, the things he hears. Even harder when you’re about to go and do something dangerous when he’s not there to help.

You’re the only one at the scene right now, and even though he’s trying to convince you not to, you’re about to go inside and catch the guy.

“We aren’t far,” he tells you.

“I know,” there’s a shout in the background, and his heart sinks ‘cause he knows what that means. “I gotta go in.”

Hotch utters your last name, concern, something like desperation buried under his firm tone.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, and then you’re hanging up.

“Garcia,” Hotch knows she’s on the other line, and he knows she’ll find him a shortcut without instruction because she’s great at her job and even better at knowing what people need.

“I’m on it,” she tells him, and then she’s rattling off turns to make through alleys to get to you quicker.

The unknown is the worst part, Hotch thinks. If he was there, at least he could be sure that you’re alright. He doesn’t doubt your skills, not for a second, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t seem to think so rationally. All he feels is the pounding in his chest that won’t slow until he knows you’re okay.

By the time he makes it, there are cop cars outside, flashes of blue and red paint the dark street where everyone’s parked. His tires screech to a stop, and he leaves the car parked and running when he gets out. There’s a cop pushing the guy into the car, another nodding at Hotch as he walks by.

And finally, finally there’s you, sitting in the back of an ambulance with a bandage on your forehead.

He all but runs over, his hands finding your jaw to tilt your face up towards him in a way that certainly isn’t professional but he isn’t really worried about that right now. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t even need stitches,” you tell him.

“You’re bleeding.”

You sort of melt at his worry, at the almost unnoticeable shine in his eyes that you only see because you’re looking so closely. Hotch doesn’t have to say it with words, because it’s written all over him, the delicate hold he has on your jaw, the way his thumb draws a small pattern over your skin. Back and forth, back and forth. He cares about you.

“I’m fine, Hotch,” you say again, because he’s still looking at the bandage on your head with a furrow in his brows.

“You should have waited.” He doesn’t mean it, but he still says it. He knows this is the job, he knows it was the right call, but he should’ve been there.

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“I know.”

His eyes still won’t meet yours, so you grab one of his wrists in your hand, squeezing it once, twice, three times.

“Aaron,” your voice saying his name is enough, Hotch’s eyes flick down and lock on yours, “I’m okay. No stitches, no concussion, just a little cut, alright?”

His fingers are still on your skin, calluses trailing down your neck until his hands are on your shoulders. There’s a trail of warmth that follows his touch, your eyes fluttering, your breath slowing.

He nods, “you’re okay.” It’s so quiet that he’s saying it to himself, even though you catch it. He repeats it, “you’re okay.”

Neither of you are thinking about the fact that you’re in public, that the team is probably watching you both and sharing looks with each other because they can see the feelings you and Hotch both have for each other clear as day. They are profilers, after all.

Hotch is only focused on you, and you’re focused on him and his hands and the sort of affection that’s rare from him, but speaks enough volumes to last a long, long time.

“I got the guy, didn’t I?” You say, trying to lighten the mood despite the circumstances.

“You did good,” he tells you, and the praise has something soaring in your chest.

You shrug, shoulders moving under his hands. “I learned from the best.”

And when you’re back on the plane, your head resting on Aaron’s shoulder where you’d fallen asleep, he doesn’t care one bit about the smirks he’s getting from the team.

He simply shakes his head at them, fighting a smile as he turns back to his paperwork.

793 notes · View notes

theogm-art · 4 months ago

Note

Im going around asking my favorite mech artists "how to get better at drawing mechs", so now i'm coming to you! What is your approach to drawing mechs, what was your path into learning how to draw em? And how could someone get better at drawing mechs? Thank you for your time and attention

Hello ! ^^

For me, I started drawing mechs 4 years ago. I was just starting to draw again after my big depression era (like 4-5 years without drawing anything after artschool) =w= I kinda had to start from scratch. So, to help me, I started drawabox.com .

I did the first lesson, pulling lines and drawing straight, which helped me a lot gaining confidence in my hand. I ended up drawing 250 boxes . It took me something like a month and a half, doing 10 boxes in day, not everyday, but most of the week.

This was important, especially with mechas, because it teaches you to draw in 3d, to give volume to your shape, and because most mechanical stuff is pretty much boxes piled on top of each others, it's pretty geometric.

At that point, I was already dusting myself of the rust in my drawing muscles, but what really finished it is doing the March of Robots 2020.

I did like 25 mechs in almost as many days, until I started getting comms. And since then, I haven't stopped. ^^

(also a year later, I got a dm from Tom/Abaddon and got hired to do mechs for LancerRPG x)

Of course, between all that, I did sketches, studies. I tried doing 100 hands but didn't finish it. etc

But for mecha, specifically, I think one of the first things you have to understand is that it is a language of symbols, that is different from organic forms. This obvious difference between mechs and humans, one could say, is that humans are soft volumes and mechs are hard surfaces. But , not only is that not necessary the case (you can draw a mech soft and circular), but it is more about filling in with symbols, shortcuts that bring to mind the idea of the mechanical.

I am not an engineer. Most artists that do mechas and robots and vehicles and hard surface are not engineer and/or do not have that knowledge. (some do but my point is it's not required). Which means that, as an artist you have to fake it by learning those symbols, that bring the IDEA of a mechanical form. This is about using the brain of the spectator/viewer, their knowledge of what mecha looks like, so that you can meet halfway.

You learn those forms by studying. There is no shortcut here. You have to practice, not only your hand, but also your eye, in looking at your favorite piece of mecha media, and replicate them until you can pull them from your brain without reference. (always use refs tho, you don't have use 100% of your brain all the time.)

I am a very DETAIL-oriented artist. It's one of the thing people compliment me on and/or hire me for. It's far from being the only approach in mecha (plenty of great artists doing great concept arts of mecha with few details) . The more details, the clearer you'll have to be, and the more time you'll have to spend on the art. Especially lineart for me. BUT details help a lot convey those symbols and forms and shapes that immediately call MECHA in the brain of the viewer.

Another thing about mecha, is that since it is NOT organic, there is 1) lots of repetition of shapes and symbols, which you are 100% allowed to copy-paste (i do that all the time) , that makes you gain a lot of time.

and 2) SYMMETRY (it's not always the case, you can have an asymmetric design which can be far more interesting) because it's a robot or a mecha or whatever, designed therefore by human hand in-context. Symmetry makes it harder for me, personally, drawing a 3/4 angles or in perspective etc, symmetry is tough. Symmetry of shapes from one shoulder to another, symmetry of details etc. That's probably one of the harder part when you work in 2D. Cause you have to understand perspective and foreshortening and all that.

But yeah, because it's inorganic, hard surface requires a better understanding of perspective, because straight lines are easier to read therefore the viewer will have an easier time at clocking wonky mistakes.

I could go on, about design and function, and aesthetic. but i'll stop there. This is basically how i started plus some other stuff. The rest you'll pick up along the way.

Thank you for asking ! =w=b

#my asks #mecha

95 notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 5 months ago

Text

A Fix For Loneliness Sneak Peek (up on patreon)

prompt: YN is learning she has no self-preservation. It’s why she keeps running into her stranger. A man who won’t tell her anything, gives her instructions, and occasionally isn’t downright awful.

word count: 9.5k+

warnings: h is obviously not a good person, violence, blood, medical stuff, mean H, dark H

authors note: the rest of the one shot is up on patreon. i will be updating this shortly over there too! I update every one to three days.

you can subscribe for $3USD here

I have upwards of 300 pieces of exclusive writing available 💓

———

YN was too kind.

She knew that.

It’s why she became a nurse, to help others in their time of need, and that’s exactly what she did in the emergency department of her local hospital.

When she was walking down a back alley one night (she knew it wasn’t safe but it was such a quicker shortcut after a thirteen hour shift she couldn’t ignore it even if it was one in the morning).

YN’s half-asleep on her feet when she runs into quite the scene, a man who has to be around her age was dressed in dark jeans and a black tee shirt.

There was blood dripping from his jaw and his bottom lip was swollen up, already bruising under the drying blood.

He had just tossed something into the dumpster before slamming the lid shut with a deafening echo and despite the warning signals, YN can’t ignore him.

“Oh my goodness. You’re bleeding, sir,” YN jumps into nurse mode, hurrying up to him and without permission, tilting his head gently to the side.

The man narrows his eyes at her, clearly taken aback, and takes three big steps away from her reach towards the opposite building.

He makes a show of spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the pavement before wiping his mouth crudely with the back of his hand.

His voice was deep and scratchy, it matched his appearance, his accent thick and rough, “M’fucking fine. Back off and mind your own god damn business.”

YN is used to fiesty patients, it doesn’t phase her much as she examines him from afar now, “I’m a nurse.”

The man sneers at her, “Surprisingly, I’m not fucking blind. I don’t want your help. Run the fuck along now, little miss hero.”

YN glances down, still in her scrubs, of course he would see she’s a nurse, and distraught at this man refusing help.

She’s tired, she’s overworked, and the fact that she knows she’ll perseverate on this if he doesn’t let her help makes her choke out a frustrated sniffle.

The brunette man, with a scowl of impatience scoffs of disbelief, “Are you really about to fuckin’ cry?”

“I jus-just want to help. I lost tw-two patients today and couldn’t-couldn’t save them,” YN begins to tear up now, wiping her eyes, it was always a hard day when she lost patients.

Two today.

An older woman with a heart attack.

A teen in a car accident.

“Fucks sake,” The bloody man groans under his breath, his eyes darting up and down the alleyway, “You’re going to cause a scene over this, aren’t you? I don’t have bloody time for this.”

He stomps towards her which makes her freeze but he stands in front of her with a agitated flick of his hand, “If you’re going to do your nurse shit, do it! I don’t have god damn time for your cry baby act. Of course, I get my plans ruined.”

YN obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about but he seems like he has places to be and she’s holding him up.

Where on earth could he go with his face looking like that anyways?

“I-I don’t have anything with me,” YN stutters after a moment, this man was intimidating as he had major height advantage, he appeared lean but his muscle definition proved he was strong.

“Okay, then see ya’,” He grunts lowly, moving to turn on his heel but YN grabs his wrist without thinking to stop him.

“My-uh, my apartment,” YN’s throat is dry, what the fuck is she doing, “I have the stuff at my apartment up the street.”

“Did your parents never teach you stranger danger? Inviting a man you’ve never met, bleeding, up to your apartment?” He asks with an eyebrow raise, wiping his continuous bleeding wound with his shirt, flashing a sliver of his carved abdominal muscles.

“You need help,” YN replies unsurely, her behaviors are so uncharacteristic but she felt drawn to help this stranger.

A small group of people pass the corridor of the alleyway, with laughs and drunk words, and the man she’s standing with perks up at high alert.

“Fuck,” He hisses angrily, that seemed to be his favorite word, yanking his hand out of her grip and muttering so softly YN doesn’t know whether she heard him right, “gonna get me caught.”

“Stand over there and turn around,” The man demands sharply, YN wasn’t used to being talked to that way but she finds herself walking towards the edge of the alley and turning away.

YN hears rustling, the dumpster being open and closed again, and a few unidentifiable noises before she hears his footsteps approaching.

His hand on her shoulder is tight as he spins her around, “If I let you fix me up, will you leave me the fuck alone and more importantly, never mention this to anyone?”

YN’s brow furrows, “Why can’t I tell-“ The man hisses in agitation, fingers digging into her skin more has harshly, “Answer me.”

It’s the first time that chills are sent down her spine at his gritted words, everything in her is screaming to run, her fight or flight triggered.

“I-I won’t tell,” YN agrees breathlessly, skin tingling when he lets go and pushes her forward, not aggressively but enough that she stumbles.

“Then move already,” He orders and when she tries to turn around to look at him, his hand comes to her neck, keeping her facing forward.

Whatever he was doing in that alley, he really didn’t want her to see, and he didn’t seem like he was open to answering questions.

YN keeps trying to justify why she’s letting a bleeding, angry man into her home as she shakily unlocks the door.

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harrystyles #hslot #hslot harry

103 notes · View notes

maximumzombiecreator · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! Maybe you've said it before, but do you know of a good resource to learn the basics of mega dungeon design? Is there any like, guidebooks or something you would reccomend? There seems to be a lot to keep in mind

There are a few different guides I've seen over the years, and I mostly think that they're not very good. For instance, 2nd edition AD&D had a Dungeon Builder's Guidebook, and I went and glanced at my copy to see if I could recommend it here, and I don't think there's much of value in here? I've also seen some bloggers try to lay out some ideas and develop megadungeons of their own. Some of these have looked good! And some of them... had different philosophies to the ones that I would have gone with.

That said, I shan't leave you without anything useful.

The first thing I'm going to call out is that your dungeon is going to change and evolve as you run it. And I don't just mean in terms of how play evolves the space, you're going to end up making changes as you go. In fact, early versions of the DMG basically state that you only really need to have one floor ahead of your players done. Wings of the dungeon further from your players can be a rough sketch of how spaces relate to each other, and if they're a cul-de-sac they don't really need anything at all besides that they exist. Factions, similarly, can be developed as things go on. You only really need to know how they relate to the parts of the dungeon the players can get to early on. I also really like developing factions as play continues. It's not unusual for me to introduce new factions in the progress of play, especially if the players do something that might cause that.

The second thing is this: only do the parts you're excited about. Steal or generate the rest. This may be an odd thing to say, as a girl who has been posting nonstop about megadungeons for weeks now, but I don't actually like making dungeons very much. I like running them, but the actual dungeon creation is kind of a chore. There are great tools for this, though. Atelier Clandestine includes a megadungeon generator in their sandbox generator that I hear is quite good. The last time I made a megadungeon from scratch, huge chunks of it were just Dyson Logos maps stitched together, with only a handful of rooms I made from scratch, either as connectors or specific weird things I wanted. Similarly, for initially stocking rooms, I'll often use random tables to figure stuff out. A bunch of these are from old G+ OSR blogs and stuff like that, but if you go looking for roll tables of weird stuff for dungeons, you'll find a lot of interesting stuff.

The third thing is to just iterate. Start with a vague sketch of the dungeon. What are the zones and how do they connect? What are the general factions, and what do they want? Then, in passes, make it more specific. Fill in one area, flesh out one faction, populate some rooms. As you're doing thing, think about how they interconnect and interrelate. When you decide something about one faction, that'll inform relationships to the other. When you iterate the layout of one zone, that'll inform its connections to others, etc. And you'll keep doing this iteration as you run the dungeon, it really never stops.

Finally, here's a checklist of stuff I like to make sure I'm thinking about. But it's your dungeon, so I would highly encourage figuring out what your own checklist looks like.

Zones. How are they distinct from each other, and what do they have for players and NPCs to want? I'm happiest when I could describe a room to my players and they can know what zone it's in just from the description.

Factions. Who are they, and what do they want? I find these work best when allying with any one faction implies causing tension with at least one other, and when there are no factions with whom allying is completely uncomplicatedly good.

Connections. How do different parts of the dungeon connect, and what are some interesting connections? Things like shortcuts that can be unlocked, one way connections, unconventional connections, ones that require unusual forms of movement to use, or special powers.

Cool stuff. Both in terms of cool stuff to use, and cool problems to overcome. Loot falls in this category, as well as big cool things to interact with in the dungeon. Here's an apparatus that permanently polymorphs anyone who goes inside. Here's a circle that fully heals anyone who enters at the cost of aging you a random amount. Here's a powerful treasure in a box submerged in a lake of acid. Stuff for the players to play with and come back to.

As long as I have those things I'm happy, so as I'm iterating I'll look at my list and see if there's anything I need to add or spice up. And then once I'm at the table, I'll often find I want to make changes and I'll tune things between sessions. Nothing is set until the players have observed it, so if I find my players are coming up to a wing of the dungeon and I'm not happy with how I expect it'll play out, I can always change it.

#ttrpg #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop gaming #ask #advice #megadungeon

37 notes · View notes

temmtamm · 2 years ago

Text

'Best Friend.'

(Yan! Secret History Tails x Reader)

Note: Been obsessing over this little fucker so decided to write this down for fun. If you enjoy this, feel free to blow up my ask box as I would gladly write more for this stinkalink.

Word count: 4,593

Tw: Death, violence, worship, threats, attempted murder, and yandere behavior

(Y/N) never wanted to get wrapped up into all this, all they really wanted to do was just help an acquaintance in need, they never planned or even thought that the action could have any consequences, much less ones to this severity. Even now, with slick scarlet staining at their hands, they still are in shock, thinking it all must've been some crazy type of dream, but they knew better.

The night this all started was just like any other for (Y/N).

The morbian had just gotten off of their shift, with sore feet and a strained brain from hours and hours of work, their only thought was about returning to the comfort of their home for some much needed dinner and rest.

Their body was practically in autopilot, following the familiar trails of the sunset forest zone. Even with a lack of thoughts or cares, they still took the time to take the slightly shorter way through, cutting through the trees and actual forest part of the zone to avoid the obstacles that the land had, making it hard for anyone to really get anywhere without it being like a parkour course.

Of course people like Sonic, Knuckles and any other of his friends might've had no problems with doing a course like that in under 5 minutes and continuing with their day, but (Y/N) wasn't like any of them, they were painfully boring and on the weaker side of things unlike the colorful cast of heroes that they had grown to be acquinted with. So, for people like (Y/N), they took the shortcut.

(Y/N) trudged through the forest, gently swatting away any leave or tree branches in their way as they did so. The setting sun's golden rays warmed their body to the touch, making a relaxing, lulling feeling overtake the morbian, allowing for them to wash away the stresses and worries of the day.

They felt completely and utterly safe right there on the path, not worrying about anything, not having to worry if another villain appeared along their way, and not having to worry about the creepy customers at their work who made it their goal to make them as uncomfortable as possible and then leave a shitty tip.

It was nice to have no cares, being able to just enjoy yourself in a comfortable silence. Though, that didn't last long--Well, at least not the silence part of things. Just before reaching a clearing of sorts, (Y/N) heard some subtly shoveling noises coming from ahead, followed by muffled cursing. They couldn’t understand most of it, but they were able to make out the whisperings for "Imposter." and "Dirty cretin's."

Taking notice to the hostility in the raspy tone that they head, (Y/N) immediately halted all movements and stayed deathly quiet, trying to make out where the sound came from so they could avoid that area or find a way around it without running into any possible dangers.

Sure, they could've ran in trying to find out whatever this hostile person was and see what they were up to and if it were actually dangerous but (Y/N) did not want to stick their nose into any strangers business. Especially when that stranger is in the woods alone with them. That sounds like the start to a bad horror movie they did NOT want to be a part of.

The sounds seemed to be coming from straight in front of (Y/N), causing some difficulties for any escape plans. If they just moved far to one of the sides, the person or morbian behind the sounds would easily be able to see them, thanks to the fewer amount of trees near the clearing.

So, (Y/N) quickly crouched down and crept toward the direction the noise came from, carefully listening in on the voice as well as trying to peek at who or what was there to be able to plan out an escape route. However, they could hear only faint whispers and hushed curses. As they approached closer, the earth decided to give them a cruel reminder of their surroundings.

'SNAP'

They took a step further than they should've, and suddenly the noise of a twig snapping under their foot hit not only their ears but mostly likely the figure they we're spying on as well. The murmurings and shoveling noises came to an abrupt stop, confirming (Y/N)'s fears that the person had heard it.

Fuck.

In one swift movement, (Y/N) pushed themselves up from their crouched position, darting to the left to at least try to hide in the few of trees they did have while evading the thing that had made all those noises. They weren't sticking around for even a second longer to figure out what the hell would happen to the. They had a better chance of surviving by running instead dog staying put like a deer in headlights.

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor was not lost on them, and neither was the pitter patter of feet chasing after them. The calming feeling they previously held in their chest when strolling quickly turned to adrenaline and fear.

This person had to be bad news, they wouldn't have been chasing (Y/N) unless they had something (Y/N) wasn't supposed to see.

The exhaustion that previously consumed (Y/N) and alertness took it's place. (Y/N) pushed against the wind, running as fast as they could, to the point where the fear of their leg muscles tearing was an actual thought that crossed their mind. Their breathing became erratic, both due to the energy they were using up as well as from fear. Despite their attempts to avoid any other branches or other parts of the natural environment that could slow them down, mid-steo their ankle had snagged onto one of the trunk roots belonging to one of the few trees around, sending (Y/N) toppling to the ground.

With the force and momentum, their fall knocked the air out of the lungs. (Y/N) yelled out, cursing out as a sharp pain was spent through their knee, making their cab quickly cramp up. They tried twisting their body to force themselves back up but before they even could, a hand grabbed at their shoulder, making the morbian flinch and their blood run cold.

But the touch was...oddly gentle??

"Ohmigosh!! Are you okay? What are you doing out here?" A familiar voice fell on (Y/N)'s ears, a stark contrast from the shrill yet raspy voice that they heard from the harsh whispering earlier. (Y/N) whipped their head around, turning to come face to face with a familiar two tailed acquaintance.

"Tails?! What are 𝘺𝘰𝘶 doing out here??" Despite (Y/N)'s confusion, the morbian couldn't help but feel relieved at the familiar face. At least there was a hero here now, no one would dare try to chase after them if Tails was by their side. There was a high chance people wouldn't question their disappearance--But tails?? Tails was a part of Sonic's crew, people would definitely be worried if he left.

"I was just..Making sure Robotnik hadn't set off any traps here for Sonic. What are you doing here..??" He questioned with a tilt of his head, a curious look taking over his features. He moved his hand away, allowing (Y/N) to sit up which gave the Morbian a chance to inspect their own leg. (Y/N) took notice to how his lips parted at the end of his sentence, as if he was about to use their name but had forgotten or hadn't known it. They were hurt, but they couldn't really blame the two tailed fox.

The two had never really hung out alone before so there's no surprise he wouldn't remember them that well. "I was just going home from work when I heard something. Before I know it, I'm being chased off and now this." (Y/N) explained, gesturing to their leg as they did so. Tails' eyes followed where (Y/N) was gesturing, taking notice to the leg.

"Oh, geez. Can you move it??" Tails asked, a hand reaching out to inspect the leg and stretch it out to see if that could help. He placed his paw on the leg, his eyes held no emotion, despite how his face made an effort to contort in concern. He did some simple stretches on the leg, but it only took a few minutes for a noise of pain to escape (Y/N)'s lips, alerting the fox friend to the fact that it was most likely too painful to walk on.

"I'm no doctor, but I think you might have a sprain. I don't think you can walk with it."

He looked at (Y/N). "Do you need me to carry you?" Tails asked, offering them a soft smile. "I may not remember where your house is, but if you tell me I'm sure I can take you there."

(Y/N) considered it for a few moments, their brows knitting together as they did so. They didn't want to cause him any trouble by asking him to do such a thing but with the throbbing pain in their leg, they doubted they could limp all the way back to their home. So with a nod of their head they agreed on Tails's offer. "If..if you can, please." They answered quietly, a tired and exhausted expression taking its place on their face.

The two tailed friend grinned at this before adjusting where he was so he could easily scoop (Y/N) up. Once in position, the fox picked up the morbian with little to no struggle. The morbian fox quickly draped (Y/N)'s body around his shoulder, carrying them firefighter style similar to how someone would carry a dead body or unconscious one.

"Jeez...I uh...I don't remember you being this strong, Tails." A nervous laugh escaped (Y/N)s throat, their hands latching onto any of Tails to make sure that the furry fox wouldn't drop them.

"Well, Sonic isn't the only one whos been pummeling Badniks." Tails chirped out, to which (Y/N) made a noise of understanding, eyes still cautiously watching the ground to make sure that they wouldn't slip and land face first into it.

With (Y/N) now draped over his shoulder, Tails took off into the direction towards (Y/N)'s home--Of course, after the Morbian had told him the coordinates.

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

"Thanks again, Tails. You really came at the perfect time." (Y/N) grunted, their bed bending when the two-tailed fox placed them down on it. Tails gave a small nod, his tail slowly swishing behind him as his hands hovered over (Y/N)'s figure for minutes longer, ready to grab at them in case they would fall back or the like. "It's no sweat off my back--After all, What are friends for??" Tails smiled widely, flashing the other with a cheeky grin.

(Y/N) laughed lightly at that, their mouth twitch upwards. "Friends?? Didn't know you considered me one. I'm honored, Tails." Tails rubbed the back of his neck nervously, though it didn't feel entirely organic, more so that he planned for the action, deciding what would look the best.

"Whoops, must've just slipped out, huh?"

(Y/N) hummed in response, their expression taking on a slightly troubled one after the warmth of the interaction rubbed off.

"Hey...Tails?" (Y/N) questioned, unsure in their words of they should say it.

Tails raised his head once more, his ears perking up and twitching at the sound of his name. "Hm? What's wrong??"

(Y/N) paused for a moment, before opening their mouth to speak.

"Do you mind if you stick around for a few minutes?? You don't have to stay the rest of the day or anything, I'm just a bit worried that...something had followed me from the woods."

Tails furrowed his eyebrows at this, his eye even seeming as though it we're twitching from annoyance, but the expression only lasted a split second and was barely registered by (Y/N) before it returned to the kind smile the fox always had. "You're right, of course. It won't bother me at all!! I'll stick by the front door to make sure no one comes by and so I can see if anything goes on."

(Y/N) flashed the short fox a grateful grin, words being incapable of expressing their gratitude towards his act of kindness. "Thank you so so much, I really appreciate it, tails."

Tails waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry, it's no biggie!! Just worry about getting some rest for your leg, okay?? Once your safe and asleep, I'll just slip on out." Tails didn't wait much for a response, quickly taking his leave with a flick of his tails, leaving the morbian alone in their room, confused but still grateful nonetheless.

Once away from the morbian, Tails released a sigh, one of annoyance as he quickly dropped the kindhearted smile he kept plastered on his lips the entire time he was around that..that...𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨!!

Who were they anyways?? His universe never had anyone like that, and neither did any of the other universes with the other fake 'Sonic's. It was always him and Sonic, occasionally Amy, and Knuckles as well but there was never someone of (Y/N)'s caliber--Much less one that seemed to be acquainted with Sonic and the imposter of himself.

It was disgusting. Why was this universe any different?? How could it be? It was never different. It always always the same, it was supposed to be the same. He doesn't like change, but he especially didn't favor this change.

The two tailed fox strolled down the halls, his eyes flickering from wall to wall with disgust evident in his gaze. What was so special about this person that Sonic would be wasting his time on them?? The only person he should be wasting his time on was him--His best friend.

Tails paused, his eyes falling towards a table just barely in his line of sight from the gap that lead from the halls to the living room then the kitchen. Curious, he made his way over to it, though most of his intentions was just to get to the kitchen, to grab a knife and finish the job to leave no witnesses.

On top of the table were some documents, just the usual rent and bills and things of the nature. He grabbed for the documents, bringing it closer to his face and squinting to try and read the finer details and possibly attach a name to his victim.

"(Y/N)...(L/N)..??" His voice muttered, dropping the whole impression of this universe's Tails to instead speak in his usual shrill and raspy tone.

It wasn't a...bad name. Not bad at all actually. Kinda had a nice ring to it.

He shook his head, clearing it of its thoughts before he tore his eyes away from the work, letting it fall on the walls instead--Or more specifically, the pictures on the walls. There were many photos of (Y/N) and family members but they weren't the ones that caught his attention.

The one that did was one of (Y/N) who appeared to be just a few years younger, their hair dawning on a slightly different style and they were grinning like an idiot with Sonic right next to them, taking the picture. It must've been the first time the two had met, (Y/N) looked as though they had just met a celebrity or something so it was a possibility.

Sonic looked so right in that image, almost reminding Tails of the Sonic he thought was the real one, the one from his universe.

Maybe this universe actually 𝘥𝘪𝘥 have the real Sonic, His Sonic. He might actually find him this time.

...

Maybe (Y/N) was the reason for that?? They WERE the difference that separated this universe from the many, many others with many, many imposters of Sonic that tried to deceive him.

That's how it all started.

After that, Tails had successfully replaced his 'imposter' and nobody were none the wiser. Sonic and Amy noticed that he seemed off at first and was able to get them off his trail. Amy even started to grow vulnerable enough to open up about her crush on Sonic and how to win him over.

Perfect.

That wouldn't be the last time he saw (Y/N), however. The day after, (Y/N) had showed up at his lab with a noticeable limp, having made him some food as a thanks for him helping their leg out. Tails--Although a bit begrudgingly, ended up helping the morbian out, making sure that they were able to walk around by making them a cane for temporary use until their leg healed up.

The plan originally was to get (Y/N) out of the picture, either by executing them in a similar style to how he did with Shadow and Knuckles sor through other means.

But when he finally had the opportunity to do such a thing by them complaining about how their phone was bugging out, he...didn't. He offered to help and had a chance to turn it into an explosive as he had done with Knuckles but he couldn't. All he did was fixed up the bugs as well as add some much needed upgrades before giving it back to the morbian.

He swore he never saw Amy or Sonic's eyes light up like how theirs did whenever he did similar favors for them.

He found himself spending hours and hours reasoning his behavior with himself.

Of course he couldn't kill them, they were the reason he was with his Sonic!! If he killed them, the universe would be just as interchangeable with all the others, than that wouldn't make his Sonic special.

The two grew a bond rather quickly. (Y/N) usually came over to check out any little projects or gadgets Tails was working on and Tails would let them rant about their day.

Tails hadn't wanted to admit it, and actively pushed it away but this feeling kept returning to him, one too familiar for him to deny much longer.

He liked (Y/N), didn't he?? The feeling was definitely similar to the ones he felt for Sonic, yet they weren't as well. They could both rival his deadly obsession with the blue blue yet also surpass it.

Before anyone knew it, Green Hill had two people that Tails was always hovering over.

Tails started making more and more trips out of his lab, skipping out on projects or time he usually spent twisting and toying with Any's emotions for Sonic in favor of just always being around (Y/N).

He 𝘩𝘢𝘥 to know what (Y/N) was doing 24/7. That's why he always kept tabs on them. If they went anywhere, if they left their house, if they were eating at lunch, if they did anything else, anything to indicate that they weren't alone in their home at all times, Tails would immediately know.

So, when one day you had gotten more dressed up than usual and made your way to Angel Island to meet up with a certain red echidna, he was the first to know and He. Was. 𝘗𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥.

For the first time ever since he got there, he refused to hang out with Sonic. He stopped hovering around the blue blur, instead almost immediately making a B-line for Angel Island. He offered little to no explanation for the hedgehog, though Sonic was grateful nonetheless for finally being able to be left alone.

Once catching the familiar glimpse of (H/C) and Red, the fox was quick to duck behind some of the islands nature, using that as a way to obscure his figure as he took in the scene in front of him.

(Y/N) was sat comfortably on the ground, legs crossed and leaning against the stand where both Knuckles and the master emerald were perched upon.

The two were talking about nothing and everything, (Y/N) chatted away meanwhile Knuckles watched the morbian, paying attention to every single word as if they were speaking of the world's secrets.

Knuckles and (Y/N)'s conversation was audible to the fox, though all the two titled fiend could really hear was white noise. Disgust and bile built in the back of his throat at the sight. His disgust soon bubbled into pure unadulterated rage when he saw the red echidna reach over to the morbian and grab for their hand, holding it as if it were the most casual thing in the world. Who did he think he was to even touch (Y/N) so casually?? He was a nobody. You could replace this Knuckles with any other from any other universe and no one would be able to tell the difference.

He was nothing compared to Sonic--Compared to (Y/N).

Before the canine even really registered it, he had sprung out from his hiding spot, almost leaping onto the echidna in an attempt to wrestle the morbian away from (Y/N). It was a foolish thing to act off of his emotions, cause even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins he was still lanky and held absolutely nothing against Knuckles in combat.

In an instant, he had been pinned down, the red echidna holding down both wrists above his head.

"What the fuck are you doing?! What the hell, Tails?!" The echidna exclaimed, his rage possibling rivaling Tails'.

(Y/N) jumped back, their face contorting at the sight before them. They stayed deathly still, unsure if they should do anything in the moment as Knuckles seemed to have it under control.

"Get off of me, you filthy vermin!!" Tails hands futily reached up, clawing at the air near Knuckles face, but never managing to get close enough. "I'll claw your eyes out, imposter!!"

"Tails!!" The fox cringed at the sound of (Y/N)'s voices he almost forgot they were there in his rage. "What the hell has gotten into you??"

"This imbecile thinks it's alright to touch YOU like that! To be with YOU like THAT!?!" Tails yelled, not caring about how loud he sounded. Knuckles seemed to get angry at this, his grip on Tails tightening as his teeth grinded together. "He's an imposter, A fake!! He's not even good enough to matter!! He's no one in a million!! He's no Sonic!! He's not your best friend!" Tails writhed and swatted at Knuckles, attempting to somehow get the echidna off of him.

He was lucky enough to get a good kick to the groin, making Knuckles stumble back with a pained hiss. He looked ready to fight Tails, but a the yellow furred fox was quicker to action, grabbing for the closest thing near him which just so happened to be a rock.

Tails pounced back onto Knuckles, lifting the rock high before striking it down against his skull.

"Imposter!!"

Again.

"Cretin!!"

And again.

"Friend thief!!"

Hands wrapped around his neck, using it to yank him away from Knuckles before he could strike again, though the effects were already done.

Gurgling noises escaped what remained of Knuckles skull before his body went limp, the remaining fight that it contained draining away along with his life.

"Tails...What the fuck did you do?! Do you know what you had just done??" (Y/N)'s voice cracked, so much emotion being continued behind their words. They had just watched their friends life drained before their eyes. Not only that, but it was by the person they trusted, the one they thought were their hero, their friend.

"He was replaceable!! They all are! I can get you a new one in the snap of an eye--One that knows to keep its FILTHY hands away!!" This wasn't the voice they recognized. This wasn't the one that belonged to their Tails. The love and care that was once held in his tone was now filled with hate and lunacy.

"You....You're a fucking freak!!" (Y/N) cried out, their hands that were once grabbing onto the Fox's neck and shoulders now pushing him back, letting him collide on the harsh concrete of the Master Emeralds stand.

(Y/N) didn't know what was goingon in their brain, they almost blacked out from the rage but they do recall their body moving on their own. They kicked and stomped at the two tailed fox, making sure he'd stay down.

Tails didn't fight back. Unlike with Knuckles, he actually seemed to revel in this pain. A sickening, deafening cackle left his body, almost involuntarily. Every kick and stomp only seemed to fuel this giggle fit of his. He was clearly enjoying himself, watching with a wide smile as his eyes stayed locked into (Y/N)'s.

(Y/N) wanted to stomp his head in, to massacre his body like he did Knuckles, but they couldn't. They weren't as heartless as this Tails and they certainly weren't as vicious.

A whimper involuntarily escaped their lips as tears started to prick in the eyes. They felt betrayed, they were used. Their leg froze mid air, just hovering over Tails though they couldn't slam it back down on his form even if they wanted to. They wanted to go back to a couple minutes ago, where they were just having fun with a friend, when Tails wasn't even there.

Cracking noises came from the joint sofa Tails as he contorted his body, forcing his sore limbs to lift himself up.

With the pop of his joints he seemed to be...longer, lankier. More and more, he strayed from what (Y/N) knew tails to be until he was practically unrecognizable. He wasn't Tails, he was his own creature far far from the loveable tech-whiz (Y/N) knew.

"Oh, my dear. Don't tell me you're actually crying over a vermin of their caliber??"

Crazed eyes looked up at (Y/N) with an adoration of some kind, one that the morbian recognized as the lions he'd give his blue friend. "You have me, and I'm certainly better." His hand reached up and grabbed for (Y/N)'s leg, setting it down before his arms wrapped around it, hugging it close to him as if he were worshipping (Y/N)'s physical form. Hypocritical. This was far worse than holding hands and yet where was his punishment?? "I've always been there, since the beginning. I'm Tails, Sonic's best friend, the player two. You're hero."

(Y/N) shook their head violently, trying to free their legs from Tails' grasp only to be met with his two tails wrapping against it, keeping it in place. "Stop. Stop trying to leave. I'm the best for you, I'm your friend."

"I love you."

Thanks for reading ♥︎

#fanfic #sonic headcanons #sonic x reader #tails the fox #sh tails #secret history #secret history tails #theres something about amy #yandere x reader #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere #fanfiction #temmer

615 notes · View notes

leosficlist · 16 days ago

Text

Post S4 Getting Together Pt3

Here we go again, gang, since I am a fiend. Again, parentlock is not the focus, but is a lovely bonus

Post S4 pt1, Post S4 pt2

Shift by Stopthat 48.5k words

“I’m tired, John,” He murmurs. Barely a whisper. John swallows, feeling irrationally helpless.

“I can see that,” He responds quietly, tracing an eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. “Sleep, then,” He can hear the crack in his own voice—a perfect match for the one in his chest. He hopes that Sherlock won’t notice, won’t try to pick it all apart.

“Not what I meant,” He rumbles, as he drifts off and away, leaving John alone in wakefulness to wonder what the hell had just happened.

notes: buying a house, misunderstandings, promises of forever, honeymoons

Tapestry by stopthat 15k words

“People would talk,” he tries, repurposing an old line, a shortcut to a recurring theme in their lives.

“They do little else.” John dutifully completes the circuit with a sigh. “Sherlock,” he continues haltingly, eyes falling back to his hands as he considers his words. “Would they be wrong, though, really?”

notes: getting together, going to harry/clara's wedding, first kiss, John adores Sherlock openly

Without Complexities or Pride by Raina_at 1.6k words

Love is what happens when you look and look and finally see.

notes: sweet, warm, a sliding together of finally

more than you could ever know by subtext-is-my-division (Quill_A) 7.6k words

Suddenly, Sherlock’s hand curls around his bicep. Warm and grounding, over the wool of his jumper. He fixes him with his impossible, multi-coloured gaze, and asks, “Are you happy?”

Is he-

Sherlock cocks his head, and his flushed cheeks glow in the darkness. (Sherlock always looks unfairly pretty when he’s drunk.)

notes: christmas fluff, convincing John to come back to baker st, Sherlock decorating for John and Rosie

coming home by disc0inferno 2k words

John keeps falling asleep in Baker Street, and Sherlock decides to finally call him out on it.

notes: soft, sweet, accidental cuddling, love confessions

When All Else Fails by ClueingForLooks_221B 6.7k

John laughed. “Well, I already poured you some, but no. I was going to ask, why don’t you ever correct anyone when they assume you and I are together?”

“We are together,” he replied simply, still typing away at his laptop.

John stiffened a bit at that. “What?”

“You and me. We’re together a lot, John. Why would I correct someone who points out a fact?”

John rolled his eyes as he headed back toward the kitchen. “That’s not what I meant,” he called as he put the wine back on the counter.

notes: soft and lovely, flirty but with a splash of insecure Sherlock

Home by aquileaofthelonelymountain 3.9k words

Suddenly, Sherlock couldn’t get his suitcase fast enough. Impatiently, he grabbed it and hurried through the masses toward the exit. A month abroad had been far too long.

After being away for a case, Sherlock is welcomed home.

In case you didn't know by TheKatlocker (TheKat79) 18.2k words

Sherlock loves John, John loves Sherlock... Are they ever going to tell each other? Spoiler: they will, but it's not that simple. As if it ever is.

notes: parentlock, misunderstandings. they suck at talking. fluffy sweet and lovely though, covers the events from both their povs, Sherlock has a book of things he loves about John

Move in by Strange_johnlock 3k words

Sherlock wants John and Rosie to move out. At least that's what John thinks.

notes: Sherlock starts looking for new apartments, John's insecurities cause him to fear the worst, sweet

More Than Okay by DissociativeSilence 9k words

Time has passed and Sherlock and John are settling back into their life of solving crimes. In the midst of a case, they both reflect on what they've been through and where they are now, what's survived, what's healing, and what's changed, for better or for worse. Day by day, they're learning more about how to live in the present, and on this day, they might just achieve that.

notes: little parentlock, Sherlock kisses John first, love confessions

'Almost' or 'Home is where the Heart is' by Strange_johnlock 7.9k words

"Where Sherlock enjoyed every second together and counted the minutes to see John again, his (former) best friend kept his distance, even when they sat on a bench together and watched Rosie run around the park. To Sherlock John was home, and John had found a different one."

Sherlock wants John to come home. John wants the space to cure his broken heart.

notes: Sherlock is so desperate to convince John that they should live together again, he starts staying at John's house for a bit.

Our Hands by Salambo06 4k words

Sherlock and John are in a cafe, gathering clues. The only problem is, Sherlock, socially unaware as he is, starts mouthing his observations louder and louder until eventually, he’s spinning around and rattling off at full speed and a fuller volume in the middle of the floor. Everyone is staring, and John is starting to become aware of this. When he realises what is happening, Sherlock hangs his head, his cheekbones colouring a light crimson. So John takes his hand boldly, even though they’ve never done this, even though he isn’t sure he can do this. And soon, Sherlock’s blush takes on a new meaning entirely.

notes: light, warm, full of sweet tension, yearning

#johnlock fanfic #bbc johnlock #johnlock post s4 #post series 4 #getting together

25 notes · View notes

qyxzun · 2 months ago

Text

𝟑 ┆𝕮𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 when he collided with pillars and was thrown around until he hit a wall that had accidentally creased. He held the side of his stomach while he panted from exhaustion, that go-home machine definitely didn't treat anomalies gently. He winced in pain from the bruises he got from Miguel and the other spider-variants. He took off his mask to breathe easier yet the cold air pressured his chest, causing it to hurt more.

He knew his time for rest was limited. He had to alert his parents of what would happen, or else. He didn't even want to imagine how his canon event would play out, he needed to focus. He pulled himself up quickly without fully recovering and put his mask back on. Knowing the city like the back of his palm, he ran as soon as he could while constantly looking back to see if he was being chased. With a swift flick of his wrist, he shot a web to pull himself through multiple buildings. The rain dropped down on his suit while he slid through small shortcuts that led him to the main city.

Miles ran and ran as fast as he could, shooting so many webs that he didn't even stop to wonder when they'd run out. His chest heaved out of fatigue yet he knew he couldn't stop. While landing from one rooftop to another, he thought of Miguel's words. He couldn't understand, that spider bit him for a reason, he was meant to be spider-man! He was destined for this, this is who he was. It's his real identity, it's his duty to protect his people.. including his father. Miguel was wrong, he's not a mistake, he is the real spider-man. It was all Spot's fault, all his fault.

...right?

His train of thought was interrupted when his spider-senses tingled. He didn't realize that he was heading into a glass building until he crashed into it, the shards slicing the part of his suit's shoulder. He hissed in pain, clutching his shoulder with his gloved hand before clumsily getting up. The people around him gasped at his sudden intrusion before he quickly jumped out through the broken window he crashed into. His movements became gauche, like a bull in a china shop. When he missed another shot of his webs towards a building, it caused him to dangerously fall and crash on a car's front windshield during traffic. The wind pressure made it worse as if he had been hurled hard into the car.

Miles' whole upper body ached in pain, he couldn't breathe properly anymore. It didn't help that his mind was playing tricks and went back to his original thoughts of Gwen lying to him as well as Miguel's words. Before the man inside the car could complain about his windshield, the black spider-man already fled the scene overhastily using his webs to pull himself further up. He was so close to his apartment, just a few more webs...

He finally saw his familiar bedroom window before he pulled himself against the wall and opened the window with haste. He dropped down on the floor for a moment of rest before ripping his mask off to let him breathe easier. He was panting out of exhaustion until he sighed in relief, smiling. He made it home.

His short moment of repose was interrupted when he heard his door slowly opening. He grabbed the closest jacket he could find and zipped it up. "Miles..?" He could hear his concerned mom's familiar voice. He turned his head and saw her holding a hamper.

"Am I interrupting something—?" She asked once more before Miles rushed towards her, grasping her shoulders with a look of distress on his face. "What'd you do to your hair—?"

"A-Am I too late?! Are you guys okay? Tell me you're okay." Miles accidentally interrupted while he looked at her, worried. Rio was already disoriented and bewildered at why he was acting like this but decided to answer honestly.

"I'm okay," she replied, perplexed. Abruptly, Miles hugged her by the shoulders tightly.

"You were right... you were right about everything.." Miles admitted before Rio just smiled. "Of course I'm right, I'm always right.. what am I right about—" she asked quietly until her son pulled away, not hearing her question as he still felt stressed.

He needed to tell her the truth, the entire truth. He was so tired of hiding the fact that he had a whole secret identity while Rio and Jeff were constantly concerned about him. Though they bugged him a lot because of his failing grades and absences in the past, Miles knew it was only because they were worried for his wellbeing.

" 'm sorry Mom... I know you know I've been lyin' to you.." Miles admitted with a hint of sorrow. Rio looked at her son, her eyebrow raised in curiosity as worry started to develop.

"It's 'cause I thought if you knew... you wouldn't see me the same anymore," Her son continued before he sighed and looked down, feeling uneasy.

"What do you want to tell me?" She asked with a look of seriousness now present on her face.

"You gotta promise nothin's gonna change," Miles responded first, hesitant to tell her. She noticed that he was becoming apprehensive.

"Hijo, I will always love you, I don't care what you say," Rio reassured, approaching him with a gentle smile. "¿ Tu me entiendes? (You understand me?)" She asked calmly yet she could tell Miles was still on edge.

Miles had his hands in his pockets while he continued to hesitate. Finally, he zipped down his winter jacket and showed her his suit.

"I'm spider-man," the curly-haired teen admitted, scared of his mom's reaction. An awkward silence sat between them. Rio kept looking back at him and the red spider logo on his suit with a bewildered look.

"Who's spider-man?" She finally responded which baffled Miles completely.

"The superhero? The one who got bit by a spider..? It gave him spider powers?" He responded before flicking short harmless webs out of his wrists. "He's me?" Miles said. He felt like he was stating the obvious yet Rio was still confused.

"Is this where like, you dress up as Y/N's favourite character? She always liked those comics and anime books like you did.. oh I forgot what they're called.." Rio responded before turning around towards his clean bed that piled his laundry. Miles was of course bemused, how the hell does she know you?

"Then the two of you would go to— Oh what's it called... like Comics-Con or something.." She continued while Miles was straight up puzzled. "I don't know what that is..?" He responded until Rio looked back at him and chuckled like he was joking. When she was certain that she had collected up all of his laundry, she left his room, with only Miles pursuing her.

"Mom, stop playin' around— this is serious!" Miles said as he zipped up his winter jacket again before following her.

"I mean— Dad didn't understand at that time but.." Miles started to get defensive but he couldn't explain so much detail without also getting lost. He leaned his head against the doorframe out of frustration. "Man I wish Dad was here to explain this..." he muttered to which his mom interrupted.

"Miles, please," Rio sighed, asking him to drop it already as she began walking around the house to see if there were any other chores to do. She looked back at him and noticed his distress. She worriedly walked back to him and cupped his cheek with one hand while the other was still holding the hamper.

"I know you're still frustrated about Y/N but I got you to take care of, and I got me to take care of.. So help me out," Rio responded before letting her hand slip away as she stepped into the kitchen where she then started to arrange utensils and clothes. Miles was beyond puzzled when she mentioned Y/N again.

"What about Y/N.. how do you even—" Miles was about to ask until he suddenly felt an extremely painful sensation in his entire body. He felt distorted, and out of balance in excruciating pain. He almost collapsed if he hadn't held onto the shelf that tumbled a few books. Once it stopped, he widened his eyes out of realization. He was glitching.

That machine didn't send him home.

Miles heard the front doorknob shake before the door opened. His eyes widened. He could feel the fear, nostalgia and so much more in him when he suddenly saw him, his Uncle Aaron, in the flesh, alive. He had his signature smirk over his beard which had already grown longer and a little whiter. Miles was breathing quite fast, not knowing how to handle seeing someone who died in front of him before he was officially spider-man.

"Hey," Aaron approached him with a nod, sticking his hand out to dap him out. He noticed Miles' hesitance and was about to ask him if he was alright until the teen accepted and immediately hugged him. "Woah-" his uncle was baffled, surprised to see his niece suddenly hug him out of nowhere.

"Okay.." the bald man chuckled awkwardly before pulling away from his niece. He was surprised to see Miles' new hair all of a sudden. "You took your braids out man?" He pointed out with a small smile before he walked towards Rio.

"Y-Yeah— I'm getting used to it..?" Miles responded in confusion as he tried to get along with it.

Rio and Aaron were talking in the kitchen about her work while he reassured her about helping her out in the family and of course some money. Though he could hear their conversation clearly, Miles couldn't pay attention as he was beyond in disbelief. He kept thinking about so much stuff at once, specifically, how will he get out of this place.

His eyes looked down on the cold carpet in deep thought until his mom called out to him. "Miles, I have to work an overnight tonight. Here's the grocery list okay?" She held a small paper to Miles before Aaron gently took it from her fingers and shoved it in his jacket pocket.

"It's alright, I'll make sure he gets these done," he said before walking past Miles and giving him a side glance, a small way of telling him to follow him. The teen had a semi-worried look but still accepted.

Miles followed him out of the apartment and up the rooftop stairs, doing his best to blend in and not appear suspicious in front of his Uncle Aaron, who was discussing a plan Miles couldn't possibly follow. Once they reached the rooftop, Miles looked around in a stupefied frenzy after what he saw.

Most buildings were vandalized, some had fires while police alarms were constantly blaring even at this late night. Miles could hear numerous screams everywhere yet he couldn't even determine which one was where. A helicopter had even crashed down near a few buildings away in the sky yet Uncle Aaron paid no mind like this was the norm for him. It concerned Miles to the fullest.

"There's no spider-man here.." Miles muttered, his hands grasping the inside of his winter jacket tighter. He glanced up before he gasped in fear, the cold wind sending shivers down his spine.

What befuddled Miles with dread and dismay was what lay before him; a mural with two flickering lights above displaying graffiti art. It felt like his Uncle Aaron's death all over again when he saw the spray-painted portrait of his dad, with a small message; rest in power.

Miles couldn't even look away, his anxiety growing as more thoughts rushed into his mind. He feared for the worst, will this happen if he was too late? How long until his canon event happens? Will he be able to save his dad? Will he succeed..?

Aaron checked his phone after it chimed, his face solemn unlike before who only showed smirks and humor. The bright screen contradicted the dark night over the dangerous city yet the news he received was certainly eye-catching. His eyes slowly turned to Miles, who had a disturbed expression after seeing the mural. Miles didn't even notice until he could feel like death was staring at him.

His spider-senses reacted late as a sudden punch to the eye immediately knocked Miles down. Slipping into unconsciousness, he fell on the rooftop's dirty floor, a loud thud following soon after. A sudden headache developed as Miles slowly woke up. He couldn't open his left eyelid properly after such a hit. While his eyes slowly fluttered open, he tried to move his hands and body yet couldn't as he realized that he was tied up to the punching bag with sturdy metallic chains, the same one his Uncle Aaron owned before his apartment was renovated... The room was almost pitch black if it weren't for the windows that only showed the bustling lights of the perilous events outside and the small television Miles recognized in Uncle Aaron's living room that emitted light.

Miles struggled as he tried to blast the metallic chains tied around him yet struggled to do so. "Fuck.." he cursed under his breath. He looked around trying to find anything that could get him out of this situation yet when he looked up, he noticed something.. or someone at the distance.

Miles watched from the distance with an apprehensive expression. His movements were limited thanks to the chains as the figure dropped down from the wooden board close to the ceiling onto the floor with ease. It felt like one of Miles' sleep paralysis moments when the figure started to approach him, their narrow eyes were purple alongside the purple glowing claw-like gauntlet he wore on his right arm.

"Who- are you?" Miles asked after mustering up some courage and sense in his mind that it was only a person, not a monster. His sudden glitching caused the punching bag behind him to shake. He groaned in pain while the mysterious figure paid no mind and stopped in front of him, their appearance becoming clearer.

Their face was covered with a mask but Miles could tell by his masculine build it was a guy. A familiar prowler logo was sprayed on his shirt below the purple jacket he ported, it was clean but sloppy. Yet it got Miles thinking, wasn't Uncle Aaron supposed to be Prowler? Who was this person?

His doubt and curiosity were soon turned into pure astonishment after the figure's mask slowly unraveled. Miles felt like he was staring at his reflection which didn't match his at all. On one part, he noticed he had stress marks and darker eye bags than Miles which he maintained with his brooding expression.

"I'm supposed to be askin'" The prowler version of Miles scoffed with a bored scowl on his face. Miles seemed to breathe faster, he was running out of time.

"If I don't get home.. our dad's.. gonna die—"

"Your dad," His evil counterpart interrupted, emphasizing the obvious while he remained unfazed. Miles could already tell that convincing him would be hard but.. it was him he was talking to. He knows himself better than anyone yet when it comes to his counterpart, he doesn't know what to say.

Despite having almost the same appearances, their personalities and futures were nowhere near the same. Miles' canon event has yet to come but considering his counterpart's enigmatic self, his canon event must've been a terrible experience to the point he became reserved and melancholic. But what canon event would that be? Miles was huffing shortly until he stopped and had an idea.

"Please..." Miles sighed, looking at his counterpart in the eye. He was still worried but he sounded more serious than before. "You need to let me go.. if not for my dad.. then for Y/N," Miles confessed to which he saw his other version of himself suddenly widen his eyes. The spider-man could tell he ticked him off in some way he knew was a sensitive topic. Miles was about to continue until he saw his counterpart's expression turn to his enigmatic facade. He could sense a hint of extreme exasperation appearing thanks to his body language.

The prowler's clawed gauntlet suddenly fired up, a fizzling sound of electricity buzzing through the air as his hand turned into a tight fist. Miles hid his hesitation well enough that it pissed the Prowler off further to the point he did something drastic. What Miles didn't expect was his sharp gauntlet suddenly slamming the punching bag he was chained up to, just beside his cheek. The punch he left created holes for sand to slide down below Miles.

Miles' eyes widened as his heart began to race faster from the near-death experience. The claws on his gauntlet were sharp like razors and hot like blue flames. It landed a deep enough cut on Miles' cheek that made him close his eyes and hiss in pain. Yet strangely, he could feel the Prowler's dead glare on him more than the heat and the cut itself. Staring back at him felt like he was eyeing Malevolence itself.

"How the fuck do y'know her cabrón?" Miles G. hissed with a seething tone, the sharp claws pressing against Miles' skin further to the point drops of blood were dripping from his gauntlet, staining the floor.

The past two weeks have been a journey for you, to say the least. The three accepting people, All Might, Nezu, and Mr. Aizawa.. kind of, had been training you almost every day without a break for an entrance exam for UA, and you found them all challenging and fun to do at times. Since you would be considered a late-entry student, they warned you that the exam would be much more difficult. Luckily, Aizawa had taken off his bandages after healing from an incident he refused to explain. You didn't seem to mind. Thanks to his recovery, he was more adaptable and flexible during practice. The training was diverting, especially sparring with the black-haired man, whose expressions behind his yellow goggles were always priceless whenever you slipped through his tight scarf, which he used to mostly apprehend you.

"Don't watch the mouth, watch the hands!" You would grin and easily slide through the tight fabric before he'd get baffled. You could sense his eyes would widen while he would often activate his quirk on you whenever you shot webs to try and catch him, sometimes forgetting you can always nullify it.

Mr. Aizawa didn't just train you; he also offered or rather commanded, you to join him on underground patrols anytime the moon was shining every night. You had no idea why he would want you to accompany him on patrols since you didn't believe his poor reason that you'd cause trouble if left unsupervised. What made up for it was the sense of accomplishment when you caught a villain together; it was similar to travelling on missions to capture anomalies with other spider-people and returning them home.

On a side note, Principal Nezu allowed you to sojourn at his place since you had no one else to turn to. You appreciated his hospitality and politeness when it came to taking care of you. Despite being a strange animal, Nezu had a welcoming and warm residence, comfier than your dorm at Brooklyn Visions Academy. He gave you a room and a study lab for your future studies and experiments. You didn't want to admit it, but Nezu taught you better than your BVA professors. You practiced Japanese calligraphy, culture, and such, but while you found Linguistics in Japanese to be the most difficult apart from your training with All Might and Aizawa, it was also the most enjoyable at times.

All Might, on the other hand, introduced you to a lady named Kurose, who's a pro hero known as Thirteen. As she specialized in rescue and search training, she generously offered to train you at UA's battlegrounds whenever All Might was occupied. Toshinori was grateful for her help as you learned a lot from her but anytime she saw you glitch, like a normal person, she'd be concerned and ask if you were alright but you couldn't tell her. You didn't mistrust or feel threatened by Ms. Kurose at all but it was a part of an agreement you and Nezu made. Information can be spread fast like rapid dissemination, and Nezu was certainly not going to take any chance.

Nezu trusts the Pro Heroes more than you but the astonishing fact that you weren't affected by any quirk at all can be a huge advantage to an extreme extent. It's a miracle but also a dilemma at the same time. After the USJ incident that Aizawa refused to tell you, the investigation involving Shigaraki and his pet was put into question by the Pro Heroes. Your invulnerability against that man-child's quirk was certainly a gift brought from another dimension, as it'll play an effective role for your part. It's one of the reasons why Nezu and Toshinori accepted you with open arms, to teach you as proper mentors, so you'd never fall into the path of villainy. But after the district incident with the Vulture, they highly doubt you'd turn for the worse since you already possessed the characteristics and strengths of a hero, better than most heroes too.

The dilemma was that you don't belong here. It was never destined to be, just a coincidence. The longer you stayed on Earth 61860N, the harsher your glitching developed. It went beyond just your body glitching to your presence causing other items to warp and transform as the consequences lingered and were more unpleasant. You didn't even want to think about the times you were sore from training and suddenly started glitching; it was excruciatingly painful. It grew so terrible that the presence of your dimensional traces in your room began to distort more than usual. Even Nezu got concerned when he would occasionally return home from his job as the Principal of UA, perplexed as to why a piece of his home appeared to be distorting.

Toshinori knew you couldn't remain much longer and may die at any time, but he was doing everything he could to find a way to help you. He began reading innumerable books about universe ideas, pushing you to try medicine he had no idea was worthless, and even attempting to assuage your suffering whenever you glitched, but no matter how hard he tried, it always seemed impracticable. All Might wasn't particularly religious, but he hoped that any god who heard his prayers for your improved health would cooperate.

After a few more days of training, it was finally time for your entrance exam. You were a little nervous thanks to Aizawa's harsh words last time you trained together but you tried to stay optimistic and not let any dark thoughts plague your mind. If you fail then that's fine, if you succeed that'll be cool.

You were wearing a Japanese student gym uniform All Might bought for you for the exam. He claimed it could help you blend in with other students who were taking the same late-entry exam as you. Funny how it was only you in the single trial grounds. It took place inside a large training facility with multiple obstacles and test dummies, big and small, on standby or hidden in a clever position where no one would expect.

You were stretching your entire body and prepared for a warm-up near the entrance to the ruined areas. Meanwhile, the evaluators were focused solely on you atop the high building in the facility's safe zone. Behind them, All Might and Principal Nezu were watching the display screen in the lobby of the observing room. They felt uneasy to observe since the success rate of late-entry exams was exceptionally low; which explains why the majority of freshly enrolled students pass UA on their first attempt. Furthermore, organizing a new exam in the middle of a prestigious school year such as UA would be akin to winning millions of dollars.

You were starting to feel anxious again but after checking your phone, that Nezu provided for you, you could read All Might's text: 'Good luck on the exam young Y/N, We're rooting for you!'

It brought a hopeful smile to your face before you shut it off and placed it away. The exam had already begun and you needed to focus.

You were initially supposed to go with class 1-B since Vlad King's quirk worked better on you than Eraser Head's, but after some asking and convincing, Principal Nezu gave in and allowed you to stay under Aizawa's care. Usually, Aizawa would make a sardonic reply that'd leave you regretting your decision, but he was surprisingly different and decided to close his mouth.

The day started off normal, his class was obnoxiously loud in the morning until his presence was known inside his classroom.

"Morning," He tiredly announced to his class with his usual bored expression to which his strictness got them to sit up straight, afraid to get scolded. His silence was concerning his students. Are there bad news? Are there other villains? Why's he suddenly so quiet? Why's he just standing there?

What his class didn't expect at all was a girl stepping inside their classroom, wearing the same uniform as them with her school bag slung over her shoulder. They sighed in relief, knowing it wasn't any bad news. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The USJ incident was mostly a traumatizing event that Aizawa and his students were recovering from. Seeing a new face was strange but satisfying. Their homeroom teacher cleared his throat before finally introducing you.

"This is Y/N L/N, a new transfer student to UA's Hero Course. Starting now, she'll be joining class 1-A as your classmate. Treat her with respect," Eraser Head blandly proclaimed with his back slightly hunched from how tired he was from last night's patrol.

"Generally speaking, UA prohibits students from enrolling in the Hero Course, particularly after coursework and scheduling have been set. Even with ones who got accepted through Recommendations, late-entry evaluations are harder to pass than the initial entrance exam you kids went through," Aizawa looked back at you and directed his gaze to the empty student desk that the others hadn't even noticed until now. They were stupefied and dumbfounded as they watched you walk over to your seat and sit down, settling your bag beside your legs.

"L/N's efforts and achievements have been recognized as one that can match a Pro's, so learn from her." Aizawa asserted with the same enigmatic tone, a little shiver going down their class' spines. It was the first time he praised someone's achievements without naming another drawback. His students looked back at each other in confusion and curiosity, now they were definitely intrigued by you.

"Damn, she must be really strong to get into UA during the middle of the year.. No fairrrrr.. Mr. Aizawa has a favourite now?" A pink-haired girl pouted but whispered to her greenette friend behind her to which she nodded in agreement. She glanced at you holding a pen with your textbook on your desk. The girl admired your look of determination and focus even on your first day.

"But he's right Mina," Tsuyu ribbited as she placed her index finger on her chin. "Not gonna lie, I'm getting curious to know more about her," The green-haired girl spoke until Mina nodded eagerly.

"Let's talk to her after class! I'll bring along Kiri or Ochako! That way, we can make her feel included!" Mina suggested with a smile, she seemed to forget to whisper as Aizawa turned his attention back to her, a glare forming.

"Pay attention Ashido, another detention and we'll need to settle your disruptive behaviour with Hound Dog," Eraser Head threatened to which Mina seemed to tense up and focus back on what Aizawa was writing on the board.

'I have no clue what they even said..' You sweatdropped, realizing your Japanese could use some more help.

𝕾𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

#atsv #fanfic #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #mha #earth 42 prowler #spiderman #gwen stacy #miles morales x reader #mha x reader #atsv x reader #miles g morales #hobie x reader #hobie brown #deku x reader #class 1a #my hero academia #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader

30 notes · View notes

cloudwhisper23 · 11 months ago

Text

Greg asked him to meet at the Pizzaplex. He acted like it would solve everything. But to Tony, there was no fixing things. There was only the betrayal he'd suffered at the hands of both Ellis and Greg. He'd said yes anyway though. The damage was done, and Tony had learned from his mistake. He could be friends with Greg, but he wouldn't trust him.

Part of him figured it was more Greg than Ellis who had really changed his story. Ellis wasn't dedicated enough to writing to really even care about how the story turned out. He trusted Tony to handle it. Maybe that was part of the reason it stung so much. Ellis hadn't cared that Greg wanted to change things.

Which meant that Greg had more to make up for, and was probably why he was trying to hard to make Tony feel better. But if he really wanted to cheer Tony up, why would he take him to the Pizzaplex again? Bad reminders were not going to help.

Something about it nagged at Tony. The Pizzaplex was GGY's hunting ground, if his suspicions were correct. Entering that territory without the crowds made Tony nervous.

He shoved a pocketknife engraved with his father's initials into his sweatshirt. Just in case. It couldn't hurt, right?

Greg seemed just as nervous as Tony felt when he got to the Pizzaplex. "Hey."

"Hey." Tony nodded to him, fidgeting with the carved wood in his pocket. "What's the plan?"

"Fazerblast." Greg smiled. "You can handle some games, right?"

Tony's mouth twitched, but he said, "Sure. Where's Ellis?"

"Ah, Ellis isn't coming today. I figured we could meet up with my other friends. The more mature ones."

Tony's brow scrunched. He'd had that exact thought before, of Ellis being too immature. But he never voiced it out loud. It wasn't worth the problems it would cause, even if Tony thought it was true. "Do I know any of them?"

"Not really. They like to hang out at Fazerblast."

"You only like it there because Freddy's your favorite," Tony replied as they entered the mall.

Greg scoffed. "I'm not that shallow. Fazerblast is fun. Ellis is the one who has all the fun at the arcade cabinets. I go all over."

"Right." Tony shrugged.

"Hey, come on. We're here to have fun, remember? Loosen up." The scrutiny Greg had given him at school returned.

"Sorry." Tony pointedly didn't look at Greg.

"Tony." Greg grabbed his arm. "Seriously. Are you going to be a buzzkill?"

"Greg." Tony replied flatly. "You ruined my story about the Pizzaplex, and to make up for it, you took me back to the Pizzaplex. Forgive me if I'm a bit upset."

"What do you want to do then?" Greg seemed irritated. What do you want from me? Tony heard instead.

"I don't know."

"So just trust me. You'll have fun, I promise."

Tony didn't respond to that, but he let Greg lead him all the way to Fazerblast.

"Where are your other friends?" Tony asked, but Greg kept moving. "Wait, this isn't-"

"There's a shortcut to skip the line. Trust me."

Tony was getting more and more concerned the more Greg said that. He took them through a creaking door and up a rickety staircase. Tony tentatively put a hand on the railing, peering over. "Greg, we're above Fazerblast."

"Astute observations as always, Tony." Greg tugged his sleeve impatiently. "We're almost there."

Almost where? Greg said they were going to Fazerblast, but they clearly weren't going to play Fazerblast. Instead, they followed the catwalks to a security office. "Gregory-"

"You've gotta trust me, Tony."

No, I really don't. But he still let the other boy lead him through the door. He scanned the room quickly, weary of the fact that someone had clearly been living in the room. The name Vanny was spray-painted on the wall in capital letters. "Who's-"

Something hit him in the back of the head, and Tony curled in a ball. I shouldn't have trusted him, he thought in a daze as he glimpsed the familiar color of Greg's shoes. He also spotted animatronic feet, but the pain ringing in his head reduced his ability to say much on his own.

Scrambling, Tony backed himself up into an arcade cabinet. "Wha-"

"Tony, Tony, Tony." Greg clicked his tongue, forcing Tony's head up to meet his gaze. "You've gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble. You almost gave me away! And we couldn't have that."

"Who..." Tony blinked, trying to restore his vision. "You're GGY."

"Looks like you can still think." GGY chuckled. "Are you ready to have some fun, Tony?"

"Not if it's anything like what you did to the others," Tony gritted out.

He was grateful that Ellis wasn't mature enough to connect the dots, not mature enough to care about the hyper-realistic nature of his story. He was grateful Ellis was complacent where Tony hadn't been. Otherwise, they'd both be stuck in this situation. I'm so sorry, El. Tony thought, gripping his pocketknife tightly.

He knew he'd have to stab Greg to escape, and despite the regret he felt deep in his heart, Tony had never felt more alive.

GGY stepped back, cursing under his breath as Freddy Fazbear growled angrily and hoisted Tony off the ground by his shirt. The pocketknife was warm in Tony's grip, blood dripping off the blade as he gasped for air.

"So much bite, Tony!" GGY wiped the blood off his neck. "But you do have more than one option here, you know. We can be friends forever! But you have to follow the rules." Carefully, he pulled the pocketknife from Tony's hand and tossed it across the room.

"I'd rather die," Tony spat when Freddy dropped him.

GGY shook his head. "I think we can change your mind. Freddy, let's go."

Tony blinked as Freddy's stomach hatch opened. GGY grinned at Tony. "I wonder how well you'll fit."

"Wait, no. Don't do this!" Tony stumbled back as GGY tried to drag him forward for Freddy to lift him up. "Let go of me!"

His cries ceased as GGY hit him, this time knocking him out.

When he woke, his hands were bound behind his back. Wriggling determined that his ankles were tied as well. Tony scowled at the gross, burnt tiles.

Wait a minute. This wasn't the Pizzaplex. How did-

The sound of someone else moving made Tony freeze.

"Well, look who's awake!" GGY peered into Tony's face. "Can you guess where we are?"

"This isn't the Pizzaplex..." Tony mumbled. He didn't want to play this stupid game. GGY grabbed his chin and shook it. Tony yanked his head free and looked closer at his surroundings.

There was a show stage, similar to the one the Glamrocks performed on. Arcades were littered around the room, and one wall housed a kitchen area. "We're... in an abandoned pizzeria?" he guessed.

"Not just any abandoned pizzeria!" GGY replied cheerfully. "My sponsor's old pizzeria. Or, I guess, his son's pizzeria." GGY wrinkled his nose slightly at that. "This is where the magic happens!"

"Magic?" Tony replied doubtfully.

"Once you agree to let him into your head, you won't stress about anything else for the rest of your sorry, miserable life!" GGY tapped the tip of Tony's nose. "He will give us instructions, and using our natural personality, we fulfill the demands to keep things running smoothly. When I saw what you did with that short story, I just knew we had to recruit you!"

"And if I refuse?" Tony glared. "You'll do what? Kill me?"

"Well..." GGY studied Tony's face. "We don't really want to kill you, but if you don't join us, we'll have no choice. Ellis would be a great alternative if you said no, don't you think? He already knows the lore of GGY, after all. Courtesy of your story."

"Stay away from Ellis." Tony jerked at his bonds, angry that he couldn't strangle the life out of GGY right there.

"You're the one who makes the decisions."

"If I join you," Tony muttered angrily, "you stay away from Ellis."

"Naturally. We want you, Tony. All we're doing is giving you incentive." GGY grinned. "So you agree then?"

"I'll do it."

"Great! I'll get everything all set up."

Tony's shoulders sank. He didn't know what this cult wanted from him, but their goals couldn't be good. Not if it included killing people.

#cloud writes #tony becker #fnaf ggy #might do a part two of this #who knows #a continuation of the story GGY from the fnaf books #although it's starting to give me au vibes already #ooooh

88 notes · View notes

idontcaboose · 10 months ago

Text

Dp x Shazam/Dc prompt

Danny is now ghost king after the reborn 7 deadly sins caused the world to be

A) destroyed, causing Danny to universe hop

B) scarred, only amity is destroyed/forgotten. where Danny went to live in the Infinite Realms only to come back years/decades/centuries later to enjoy the living realm again

The sins are back, and Danny feels obligated to keep what happened last time from happening again. At least he has the Champion of Magic to assist this time.

Disclaimer: I know that the Shazam comics have the sins as a regular rogue, but not what they do or how they are portrayed. Just woke up from a weird dream, and this prompt hit me like a truck.

For those who want to use my sleep addled thoughts on the Sins Danny faced for maximum angst, here you go:

Let me know your thoughts on who would be who, Dp or Shazam/DC world.

Maddie Fenton - Pride

Pretty self-explanatory, Maddie was always proud of what she did, even when it obviously was detrimental to others.

Jack Fenton - Sloth / Pride

Jack could be either, another half of Maddie or as Sloth. Sloth in the way all of the inventions either never worked or never worked right. He never took the time to make anything correctly or safely. By taking shortcuts or planning just enough to make it functional (and most of the time, not even that) makes me feel Sloth would work for him.

Vlad - Envy

This one is also pretty self-explanatory, he envies the Fentons for having what he does not. We have all seen the extremes he wnt to for that. *side eyes Dan and Dani*

Sam - Greed

Sam wants to be needed, noticed, and validated. She got Danny killed for a picture and did it again when she wished for her not to know them and realised she was a 'nobody' without Danny. For all she is against corporate greed, greed does not always mean monetary wealth. She is greedy for any attention and has gone to extreme lengths to gain it.

Jazz - Gluttony

Jazz, much like Sam, wants validation and attention, but her way is more wanting to feast on family ties. She craves for any attention she can garner from her parents and Danny. I feel the saying "A glutton for punishment" fits Jazz a little too well for her to not be an aspect of gluttony. Gluttony does not always mean food.

Dani - Lust

LUST DOES NOT ALWAYS MEAN SEX.

Now that the PSA is out of the way, Dani is defined by the word Wonderlust. She lusts after the life she never got to live, and is willing to leave the people who helped her to chase that dream.

Dan - Wrath

I feel this one is also pretty self-explanatory. Dan destroyed the entire planet in his rage. If that isn't the textbook definition, then I will eat my hat.

Now, I know I left Tucker and Valerie out of the list, but if I had to replace or choose a sin for each:

Tucker - Sloth / Pride

Tucker does good and is helpful, but he is rarely the one spearheading anything. He usually has to have either Danny or Sam push him into action, and even then, it is met with grumbled annoyance. I feel like Jack is a better Sloth.

Tucker has his vision of himself and isn't afraid to show it, even if it makes others uncomfortable. A lot of times where Tucker instigates a problem, it's because he is overconfident in his vision, and being a reincarnation did not help with that. Yet, again this feels a little weak compared to Maddie, but I don't feel like Tucker would represent any other sins to detrimental levels.

Valerie - Pride / Wrath

Valerie, before and after she became the Red Huntress, had always been prideful. To the point where after she fell off the A-lister pedestal, she hunted down the one responsible with extreme prejudice. She would kill for that back and went to the extreme to do so. As with Tucker, I don't feel like Valerie truly fits like the others above.

#dp x dc #dp x shazam #dpxdc #I woke up at 3am with this #Why is this in my brain #I just imagine the flashbacks Danny gets with his PTSD from this #Sorry for this Danny #my first prompt

47 notes · View notes

bubble-popping · 2 months ago

Text

day 51 <3 snippet of more guide punz with dnb :D (i swaer i'm gonna post the full thing soon it just needs to be edited 😭)

"You sure this is a shortcut, man?" Techno asked, glancing around the dark oak forest. "Yeah, I could've sworn we passed this same red mushroom like three times already..." Dream commented next to him. When his gaze moved from said giant fungus to the back of Punz's form, he found almost no reaction from the other blond. "We're getting close. You guys trust me, right?" "Of course," they each answered without hesitation. Punz nodded, stride unwaveringly steady. "Good."

Something just seemed wrong to Dream. He slowed his steps and grabbed Techno's wrist, which the piglin hybrid heeded wordlessly, albeit with a raised brow.

"Hey, Tech," Dream began in a whisper, hand cupped to cover his mouth, "does Punz seem okay to you?"

"How do ya mean?"

"I dunno, they just seem... more distant than usual..."

Techno shrugged, glancing to the wolf hybrid leading the group several paces ahead. "Maybe he's not feelin' well."

"Now that you mention it, he's been like this for days... We should-"

"We're here." Punz abruptly stopped, causing both of them to look up and pause.

However, they were all still in the forest, still in the same circle they'd been going in for an hour.

"Wha-" Before Dream could even get a word out, something heavy landed on his back and sent him crashing to the grass. The same happened to Techno, judging by the pained grunt he heard.

The weight remained on his back, holding him down, joined by others that captured his limbs in place. He managed to move his head to the side and look up, desperate for an answer that came in the form of an unfortunately familiar face.

A devilish grin with a gold tooth and a long, jagged scar on the side, Quackity looked positively elated.

"Long time no see, huh, Dream?" He purred, quite pleased with himself despite not doing anything.

"You. How did you find us!?" Dream hissed, fangs bared. He thrashed in their hold, feeling all his weapons and tools be systematically removed from his person.

"Oh, I had a little help." Quackity rose to his full height--which wasn't much Dream thought humorously to himself--and stepped aside, revealing the completely unbothered gaze of Punz.

"PUNZ?"

"Heh!?"

"What are you doing? Why are you siding with him!?"

They shrugged, nonchalant, bored even. "Sorry, guys. Should've paid me more."

Dream wanted to say how they haven't even mentioned payment for several weeks now, but he was stopped by an iron collar being clamped around his neck, enchantments burning his flesh. Techno got much the same, and the two were tugged up onto their knees none-too-kindly by chains connected to them.

"Oh, speaking of," Quackity piped up and snapped his fingers. One of his lackeys approached with a sizable bag, metal clinking against metal the whole way, and handed it off to Punz.

He appraised its weight, pulling the knot to peer inside, before humming in satisfaction and slinging it over their shoulder.

"Pleasure doing business with ya," Punz nodded to the duck hybrid.

"Right back at cha! The Manberg Administration will be sure to keep you in mind for future endeavors." Quackity gave a toothy smile that only promised evil.

"Cool. See ya 'round." With that, they turned on their heel and began to walk away.

"Wait, Punz!" Dream yelled, tears at the corners of his eyes. The wolf hybrid stopped. "You can't be serious! After everything we've been through together, you're just gonna walk away like this!?"

They didn't respond. They didn't even look back. They just resumed walking, uncaring for how Dream called after him.

"Just leave it, Dream. They've made up their mind..." Techno muttered, resignation in his hung head.

"I mean, what did you expect?" Quackity asked, earning glares from the couple. "He's a merc. It's what they do. They follow the money." He folded his arms behind his back, glad to for once be looking down on the two. "Now, you boys are headed right back to where you belong. This time, we won't make the mistake of putting you in the same cell."

Their collars were pulled again, forcing them onto their feet which had been shackled together just like their wrists. They were pushed forward, made to lay on their stomachs on the backs of horses, which was not a fun ride.

Dream still looked around, searching for any signs of Punz. Something still felt wrong.

#dreblr #dnb #dreamnoblade #c!punz #c!quackity #dsmp fanfic #bubble writes #daily drabbles

13 notes · View notes

bi-bard · 2 years ago

Text

They Tell Each Other Who to Look After and Who to Watch Out For - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: They Tell Each Other Who to Look After and Who to Watch Out For

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 1,916 words

Warning(s): abduction, vague threats of violence, actual violence

Summary: After using their power to save the life of their best friend, (Y/n)'s time of running and hiding comes to an abrupt end. Now, they find themselves in a new reality where they can either survive or risk losing everything.

Author's Note: This is the second time in the last like month that I have accidentally started something that turned into an OC. It happened twice.

Also, I thought the pattern of using a line of dialogue as a title was clever, but I fear that I'm going to regret it later.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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

There was a time when Inej tried to claim that everything that happened to me was her fault. That it all boiled down to one action on one night that she thought was her fault.

She was wrong.

I would say that it was mine, but that also was wrong.

If it all could be traced to one person, then it would be traced back to the man that had tried to attack her.

I reacted out of instinct. I saw Inej get grabbed and my brain focused purely on helping her.

When I had saved Kaz, I was in an enclosed space. But in that situation, it was different.

It all happened before I could truly think about it. She had shoved this man back and as soon as there was enough space, I hit him.

As he fell back, I didn't even think about the arguably small burst of light that had come out of it. Or the chance that I had been spotted by anyone.

"Inej," I said, running over to her. "Are you alright?"

She took a moment to breathe.

"Inej-"

She stopped me by yanking me forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I let out a sigh of relief before hugging her back. A small grin formed on my face and my eyes closed for a moment. I was just happy that she was okay.

"Kaz would kill me if he saw that," I muttered as I stepped back.

"I'd like to see him try," she replied.

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "Come on. We've got a job to do."

She nodded.

We went along with our night without much thought about what had happened.

I believed that I was safe. Or as safe as I could be considering the circumstances of my life.

I was constantly on high alert.

It was a natural part of living in the Barrel. Especially with the reality of who I worked with. Kaz Brekker could make a lot of people angry.

That day was no different than any other.

I was walking down the street, dodging people as best I could. The streets of Ketterdam were rarely not busy. People were usually going to work, just trying to keep their heads above water and maintain whatever vice they had.

It didn't take long for me to notice the men following me. Their eyes were too focused to merely be going the same way as me.

I didn't let them know that I was aware of them. Instead, I took turns that I usually wouldn't. I cut through alleys and took shortcuts that I saw no purpose for. My hope was to lose them by either going fast enough or just by forcing them to get confused.

I didn't get the chance to watch them run like mice in a maze.

One of them grabbed my arms after I had turned down one of the alleys. I yelled, immediately attempting to yank my arms away. I kicked the other man in the chest, causing him to stumble back.

The first man kept my hands apart, but I still struggled.

I pulled and kicked and moved as much as I could in the hopes of getting out of there.

When my attempts to escape went unsuccessful and seemingly unnoticed, I did the first thing that I could think of.

"Kaz!"

I was shoved to the ground as soon as the name left my mouth.

I don't remember anything after that.

My next vivid memory was waking up in some bed somewhere. I shoved myself up immediately, trying to get a hold of my surroundings.

I was sitting on top of the covers of a bed. Easily the comfiest bed I had ever been on. The bed was pushed against the middle of the wall that was furthest from the door. The rest of the room was full of intricate details and littered with pieces of furniture. Clearly, this was meant to be a place of luxury. One that I had never deserved and never wanted.

The room was mostly white. White walls, white bedding, white curtains for the windows, white doors. There were only a few exceptions. The floor was made of wood and laid in an intricate design. Details on furniture, the edge of the mirror, the frames of the chairs, and even the partition meant to give me some semblance of privacy were gold. Splashes of beige were thrown around too. Probably meant to make the room less like a cell than I knew it was.

As I sat in silence, trying to put together my fractured memory and devise a way out of there, I found my mind drifting.

Mainly to Kaz's office.

I had found more comfort in that office than I would probably find anywhere else. I thought back to that first night that showed him my power. And every night that I had been there after that. Moments where I would stand just in front of him, never allowing ourselves to touch. There was this silent longing. Yearning that would feel suffocating as I watched his eyes shift and move.

I would give anything to feel that familiar suffocating feeling again.

I took a deep breath. He would find me. Him and Inej and Jesper. They would find me. They would protect me. I trusted them to do that.

But I could always spare them some of the trip.

I shoved myself out of the bed, pulling on the heavy boots that I had invested in. Jesper made fun of me when he first saw them, but I defended them fiercely. They had lasted me longer than many of his hats had lasted him.

I was about to storm out of the room when the doors opened. I stumbled back a bit when a man walked in.

I composed myself quickly, straightening my spine and planting my feet.

"You're awake," he said. "Good. I hope the room was to your liking."

"Would have enjoyed it more without the kidnapping part," I replied.

He let out an amused huff through his nose. "Necessary steps had to be taken. We were under the impression that you wouldn't come willingly."

I let my eyes scan him. "Who are you?"

"General Kirigan," he held out his hand for me to shake.

Oh. I had heard stories about General Kirigan. I believe that most people had. I had never seen him before. I... I tried to not picture him. He terrified me. I knew that he had been the biggest threat to any freedom I had.

And now he wanted me to shake his hand.

I looked down at it.

"Maybe later," he mumbled, pulling his hand away from me. I looked back at his face.

"Where am I," I asked.

"The Little Palace. Safest place in all of Ravka."

I had to hold back my scoff.

"You'll be safe here-"

"I want to go home," I said bluntly.

"We both why I cannot let you do that," he replied. "You have a responsibility. We have a responsibility to all of Ravka."

"I have no interest in being a hero or a saint."

"You forfeited that decision with your little show in Ketterdam."

I took a deep breath.

"Everyone knows who and what you are now."

"I've had a target on my back my whole life. This is no different."

"It very much is-"

"I am not asking for permission. I am giving you the courtesy of telling you that I'm leaving instead of jumping from the window."

"I wouldn't do that," he advised. "It's a long way down."

Again, I had to bite my tongue.

"The two of us have a chance to do something great. To free everyone. I am begging you to see the good that this could do for everyone."

He stepped closer to me as he spoke. He wanted to convince me so much.

But I had spent far too long hiding and running to sacrifice myself now. I had been taught to run away from exactly this. My parents would cry for me from wherever they ended up. They sacrificed their lives for me to never end up in this situation. To keep me safe. I couldn't let them down like that.

So, I didn't: "I am going home."

"You can," Kirigan said. "After the Fold is down."

"No," I shook my head. "You cannot force me to be some... symbol for your cause."

"I see," he looked down for a moment.

"I am going home," I repeated. He nodded.

I went to walk around him, ready to leave. He watched me the entire time.

I only made it a few steps past him when he spoke up. "So, back to Ketterdam."

I turned to look at him again. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"That's where you want to go, correct," he asked.

"Yes."

"Back to that little family you found," he continued, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Inej, Jesper, and... Kaz. Right?"

I knew what he was trying to do. A small way to show me that he knew about more than merely my existence and where I had been.

I didn't respond because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of watching me react.

In reality, I wanted to scream at him. Ask why he knew so much about me. Ask how long he had been keeping an eye on me. Ask if he knew while I was in my early days in Ketterdam and he let me form connections so he would have something to hold over my head. I hated that he probably knew more about me than anyone else in my life. Maybe even myself. But I would never let him see that anger and fear. I refused.

"It wouldn't be safe," Kirigan walked closer to me as he spoke again. "For them. You're the sun summoner. And you've been found. You can't hide anymore. From anyone."

I took a deep breath, my jaw clenching. I took note of how his tone darkened on those last two words.

"How long do you think you can protect them on your own," he asked. "That little band of misfits that you've got?"

That was enough for me.

"Let me make something perfectly clear," I snapped as I stepped forward. "If anything happens to any of them and you had anything to do with it, then you will not have the opportunity to use an ounce of my power. Is that understood?"

Kirigan's slight smirk didn't falter, but he did raise an eyebrow at me. "Understood."

I didn't stand down. I was going to make him step away. He took a sharp breath before looking away from me and taking a few steps back.

"You should spend the evening getting settled," he said. "You begin training tomorrow."

He nodded to me as a false sign of respect before stepping around me and leaving the room. It took every ounce of self-control to not try to kill him.

He knew that I couldn't leave. He knew very well that I wouldn't threaten their lives like that. I exposed my secret to keep one of them safe. Leaving now would be selfish.

Fine.

I would stay, I would train, and I would do what I had to to survive and keep the ones that I care for alive.

But no one said that I couldn't make the general's life hell while I was here.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

197 notes · View notes

rhaegang · 5 months ago

Note

can we get BoT Felix worshipping Oliver's tits? pls🙏

Perhaps it had been a misstep to ask Venetia to dress them for their (“official” and final) wedding, considering how much she enjoyed dressing Oliver in an almost transgressive style. But he had allowed Elspeth to plan almost every other detail, and so not asking Venetia to participate would have caused more conflict than Felix wanted to invite. After all, this was his (third) special day. He wanted to make only fond memories of it.

Their tailoring for the ceremony itself was elegant, classic. Considering a portrait would be painted, that made sense. Venetia had even gone very traditional with their accessories, to boot.

For the reception, however, it seemed she could not control herself.

“What is it with her and having his tits out,” Felix complained to the contents of his champagne flute.

He had no hard evidence, but he was certain she had been the one to suggest Oliver go without a shirt at his birthday all those years go. New Years had been entirely her fault. There had been a red carpet or two where she had tried to convince him to riff on that look, but Oliver had been firm that he did not want to be dressed in any way that would draw more attention to himself than to Felix.

Apparently that did not fucking extend to the very sacred and serious occasion of their most expensive wedding day, because Oliver was circulating among the guests in a gorgeously cut tuxedo under which his shirt was entirely fucking see-through.

It wasn’t so bad at the beginning. Felix had been able to maintain at least a smattering of his composure at the beginning, because then, Oliver’d still had a jacket on. As the evening wore on, though, the jacket had been shed somewhere, exposing the delicately sheer black shirt and everything it exposed in turn.

Felix almost felt like he was being punished for something, but he had no idea what it might be. And if he wasn’t being punished, there was no excuse for this. Being a tease in public was dirty pool; Oliver knew Felix would be busy attending to social niceties as one of the grooms and that they would not have a moment to themselves.

He knew that Felix would be helpless to do anything but watch as other people admired him, were drawn to him, fucking enjoyed him like an edible sculpture or croquembouche. He knew Felix would be one of the admirers, too, and that Felix would be frustrated and prideful in equal measure as others coveted what belonged to him. That the element of display, of performance, watcher and watched, desirer and desired, would have Felix so fucking hard in his velvet suit trousers that he had to keep stepping behind cocktail tables to adjust himself.

An unconscionably cruel and wicked man, his husband.

Felix made it to ten o’clock before he snapped, using his intimate knowledge of the house to ambush Oliver on his way back to the party from the toilets—there was a shortcut through a service hallway that they both liked to take that shaved off probably a half circuit of the great hall. And Felix did not care if they were overheard in this part of the house; it would only be the staff, anyway.

He said nothing. He just let Oliver, ambling with his confident sway, walk right past the doorway where he’d pressed himself, then snatched him round the waist from behind.

“Jesus fuck—” Felix could feel Oliver tense up, and that he had to restrain himself from throwing his head back into Felix’s nose or elbowing him in the guts. Startling Oliver was always a risk, but Felix didn’t especially care. He was amenable to being bloodied or bruised in the pursuit of pleasure, and if Oliver ever really wanted to hurt him, so be it.

They were in a room that decades ago had been converted to storage for housekeeping goods like replacement linens, toilet paper, and silverware polish. It smelled impeccably clean, if a bit damp. Felix gave up fumbling along the wall for a light switch after a brief attempt. He didn’t need it.

“I could’ve cracked your teeth,” Oliver sighed, turning in his grip. “And then where would you be?”

“Getting veneers like everyone else in Hollywood, probably,” Felix said with a shrug. He used both hands on Oliver’s hips to guide him back against a row of wire shelving.

“No.” Oliver’s hands smoothed up his lapels. “If you ever do that, I’m divorcing you.”

“Oh my god, we’ve only just finished the wedding and you’re already threatening to divorce me?”

“We’ve been married a year already.”

“I know. But I do like getting you to say it aloud.” He rubbed circles with his thumbs against Oliver’s waist, enjoying the slippery feeling of the sheer fabric between their skin. A nylon, maybe. He hoped it was nylon. If it was silk, he was about to ruin it.

“Was there something you needed, pet?” It reassured Felix to hear how thick Oliver’s voice had become so fast, and with so little contact. But then, he knew what he had been doing to Felix for the last few hours. It served him right if he had been on the edge from this little torment, as well.

“Yeah…yes. Yes, I need your permission.”

“To do what?” Thick, but nevertheless amused.

“To make you come.”

“Ahh. I see.” Oliver’s hands made their way up, up, until they were tugging at Felix’s hair. Even though they were hardly more than inkblots in the dark, Felix was sure Oliver’s eyes were brimming with affection. “You have it.”

“Thank god.”

The room was clean, down to the floors, so Felix didn’t worry about his velvet trousers getting messy when he knelt down. He almost got ahead of himself once he was on his knees in front of Oliver, but there was something specific he had come after, something he felt fucking compelled to do.

Felix sat back on his heels and coaxed Oliver down as well, until Oliver was straddling his thighs and his chest was almost level with Felix’s face.

“I can’t believe you let Venetia put you in this top tonight,” he breathed, then nuzzled his face into the center of Oliver’s chest. A heady sigh, then Felix sucked one of Oliver’s nipples into his mouth through the sheer fabric the way he had been aching to do for hours.

Above him, Oliver groaned and burrowed his fingers deeper into his hair.

“This was already the compromise. She wanted me to wear a tux made of, mnh, these tarty lace panels with no top under at all.”

Felix released the nipple and mouthed at the curve of muscle just below it. Oliver was so small, but his tits were generous, and Felix couldn’t get all of one in his mouth no matter how he tried. There were some men who built their pecs to the point they actually looked like full, mounded breasts; Oliver’s chest wasn’t anything like that, but nevertheless, Felix always, always thought of them as Oliver’s tits. Possibly had something to do with being told, once upon a time, that Oliver welcomed Felix to come on his tits, if he wanted.

Now, of course, he was picturing it. He moaned, mouth full of nylon, cheeks hot, then shifted to take the other nipple between his teeth.

“Fuck, Felix.” Oliver shifted in his lap, and Felix knew his hard-on must’ve been obvious. “Fuck, fuck. You planning to make me come just from playing with my nipples, love?”

“Mmmh.” He was panting already, in between sucking and licking and biting and kissing every bit of Oliver’s chest he could get. “Unless there’s something else you want, Ollie. Is there?” He had to pause to flick one hard nipple with his tongue, then blow on it through the spit-damp shirt. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what to do for you.”

“Fuck.” Oliver’s lips were pressing against the crown of his head. “I want you to get your lovely cock out of those trousers for me, and stroke yourself.”

“But—” Felix was supposed to be making Oliver come, not himself.

“I told you what I want. You sayin no?” The question was ripe with possibility. Felix could say no. He could be bad. He could get Oliver to punish him properly. He had to think about it a moment, his mouth still smacking idle kisses along Oliver’s chest.

He would rather be good, he decided.

“Not saying no, Sir.”

“Mm, Felix.” Another kiss into his hair. “So glad to hear that, pet.”

There was hardly any light in the store room, just a little filtering through a small clerestory window overhead. And so, neither of them could really see more than silhouette and shadow as they shifted, opened buttons and zippers, and freed their erections from their formalwear. Felix took himself in hand and stroked as he’d been told, though he whined when he saw that Oliver was doing the same. He didn’t want to touch himself when he could be touching Oliver, instead.

“Love to watch you,” Oliver murmured, his head bent, obviously staring at the movement of Felix’s hand. “Love it when you put on a show for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Distantly, Felix could hear some thread of the music, and laughter. But really, all he could hear was their rough breaths and the rustle of fabric, the tiny metal clicking of a zipper pull jostled by their hands. It made it very easy to hear Oliver whisper, “Love it. Love you.”

“Oliver, hn—”

“I’ll never forget the first time,” he went on, words barely more than puffs of breath above Felix’s ear. “You were fuckin glowing. So fuckin hot. Like the steam was comin off you, not your bath.”

“It makes you hot to watch me, Ollie?”

“Obviously.”

“It gets you off?”

“Of course it does. You don’t even have to be touching yourself. I could get off watching you do anything. Drink your coffee, ah, brush your teeth or, ah Felix, or sleep—”

“Oh god, Ollie, have you? Fuck, have you ever got yourself off watching me sleep?”

“I think, fuck, yeah, oh—mm, I think I’ll keep that my secret.”

“Fuck, baby, Ollie, Oliver, are you, please say you’re close—”

“Almost, Felix, ah Felix, fuckin put your mouth back on my tits if you want me to finish first—”

He had never heard an instruction easier to follow in his life. Felix ducked his head, laced the flat of his tongue across one nipple, then the other, then took one, and as much flesh around it as he could fit, into his mouth before he bit down, hard.

Oliver might have tried to say his name; Felix wasn’t sure, because it was too mangled up in his throat with a strangled attempt not to shout.

“Ollie-baby, Ol, can I, please, please can I—” he panted.

“Yes,” he could feel Oliver still shuddering. “Give it here, pet.”

Oliver might have lost his balance then, or gotten a cramp in his leg, or something like that. Or Felix might have intentionally bucked him off his lap so that he tumbled back. Either way, Oliver caught himself on his elbows, and Felix raised himself up from where he’d been sitting on his heels to kneel at his full height, so that when his orgasm hit him, the cum that Oliver had demanded was splashed across the already wet front of his shirt, across his bitten and swollen tits beneath it.

“Fuck,” he heard Oliver groan. “Good. Good boy, Felix.”

A shame, perhaps, but Felix had a moment to think it unlikely Venetia would be dressing his husband in any sheer tops after that.

#rhaegang originals certified fresh #mutuality au #gang asks

21 notes · View notes

jampc · 1 year ago

Text

angeleyes ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

ʜɪ ! ɪ ꜱᴀᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʙᴢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴀɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ :) ɪ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟɪɴɢ ʜɪꜱ ɢꜰ (ʏᴋ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ʀɪᴄʜ) ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴇᴛᴄ !! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴍ <- anon

pairing: trunks/f!reader

words: 1,224

content warnings: none.

tags: fluff, drabbles, romance, sfw.

rating: G

a/n: so fluffy it might make you explode. or at least cause massive amounts of eye rolling 😭. hope you enjoy it nonetheless ⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

"I've told you before, it's my money. I can do whatever I want with it!"

"But-"

"And no buts! This is my house and if I say we're going out to the fair then that's what we'll do." The young man smiled down at his girlfriend as she pouted up at him in a sulk.

She knew how much he loved this time of year, when all the local businesses would set up stalls around the town square for people to come along and buy their wares from them.

It was like Christmas on steroids, with everything being open until late into the night every day of the week. There were rides, games, food stalls and so many other things to see and do.

“But you know I don't like crowds," she whined. "And there's bound to be lots of drunk people who might try something."

"I promise I won't let anyone take advantage of you while we're here. And besides, everyone knows me. They'd never dare mess with us." He gave her a kiss on the cheek before standing up and pulling her up by the hand. "Come on, let's go."

She sighed as she followed him out of the door and towards the car. He had a point though; he could probably handle any trouble that came his way if it did arise.

Even now, they only needed to look at each other for a few seconds and they both knew exactly what the other one was thinking.

They drove through the town centre and parked up near the edge of the market area.

“We should get some tickets first," he said as they got out of the car. "That way we can ride all the rides without having to wait in line."

"I suppose so," she replied. "But you know I'm not really that fond of rollercoasters or anything too fast."

He laughed as he took her arm and led her over to the entrance gate.

A few moments later, they were inside the grounds and walking amongst the stalls which lined either side of the walkway.

Most of them sold clothes, jewellery and other accessories but there were also plenty of food stands selling hot dogs, chips and candyfloss.

"It looks busy already," he commented as they made their way slowly through the throng of people.

"I think we're going to have to fight our way through. But I think I know a shortcut."

"Oh goodie!" she replied sarcastically. "How exciting! Let's go."

The finally found the ticket booth.

“Two please," he said to the lady behind the counter. "For two adults."

She handed them each a paper ticket as well as a plastic bag containing a pair of wristbands.

He slipped his on and watched as his girlfriend did the same.

Once they'd put their bags back in the boot, he looked around and spotted a small kiosk on the far side of the field.

"Come on," he said excitedly. "Let's go on the merry-go-round."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you along after him as he made his way across the grass.

You could hear the music playing as you walked towards the brightly coloured horses.

When you got to the front you realised there was a queue leading onto the ride itself and several more queues waiting to get on once the previous ones had left.

"I knew i should've bought out the fairground earlier," he muttered.

"Oh hush, it doesn't matter," she whispered sweetly in return. He started pushing the people in front of him aside until he reached the head of the queue.

As soon as his turn arrived, he held your hand tightly as you stepped aboard the ride.

You held on to his waist firmly and gripped tight the metal bars above your head.

Then, the whole thing began moving round and round, faster than you thought possible.

Your boyfriend's hands tightened even further as you squealed with excitement whilst trying desperately not to lose grip of the bar.

After about five minutes of dizzying motion, the ride stopped again and you felt yourself start falling forwards as it slowed right down.

Luckily your boyfriends strong arms kept you from plunging off the seat completely, although they couldn't keep hold of one hand for very long.

“Wheeee!! That was fun," you cried breathlessly. "Let's do another!"

“We should go on one of those little bumper cars next," he suggested with a chuckle. You nodded your agreement eagerly.

They headed towards the exit and went outside where there were dozens upon dozens of these miniature vehicles racing around a large wooden track.

You choose a vehicle and climbed inside. Your boyfriend choose one nearby, hopped in beside you and wrapped his arms around you protectively.

"Hold on baby," he growled softly in your ear.

"Ooohhhhhh!" you screamed in delight as you careered around corners, narrowly missing other cars on numerous occasions.

You bounced up and down against the seat as you spun around, laughing madly, feeling safe in your boyfriends embrace.

Eventually he released his grasp on you suddenly and you fell forward as you tried to grab the steering wheel. The force sent you hurtling off the seat and crashing to the floor, hard enough to knock the wind out of you.

"You alright?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Y-yeah I think so," you stammered between gasps for air.

“I love you," he told you as he leaned down and kissed you tenderly.

After a moment you recovered your senses enough to smile at him and reply.

"I love you too."

A short time later, you were sat back down enjoying yourselves on one of the benches whilst he was feeding you ice cream.

You were giggling like children, holding hands and talking about all the stupid things that happened to you during the day. Eventually, the sun started setting and the crowd started thinning away.

“I know sometimes we argue but it makes me happy to spend time with you," he told you earnestly.

"It does make me happy too," you admitted. "I wouldn't want to change a thing."

"You’re so beautiful," he continued dreamily. "So caring and compassionate too. If you weren't so shy, I could tell you how wonderful you are to me."

You blushed deeply, embarrassed at having been spoken to quite so openly.

But still you felt your heart begin to beat faster as the words sank in deep within your mind. He leant in closer, his voice dropping even lower.

"I've fallen in love with you," he mumbled quietly into your hair. "And I intend to marry you someday."

You froze up instantly and stared wide eyed at him. His face dropped slightly and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well, it’s getting late we better head home," he said with forced jollity. "It's a long drive tomorrow."

You nodded dumbly and allowed him to lead you back towards the car.

Once they were both seated safely inside, he turned towards you with a big grin plastered across his handsome features.

"So..." you murmured uncertainly. "Are you sure...you meant that...?"

His mouth split into a huge grin and he shook his head playfully as he spoke.

"Yes, of course. What kind of idiot do you take me for? Now buckle up, sweetheart, 'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride!"

#trunks #trunks x reader #dbz x reader #trunks dbz #trunks sfw

133 notes · View notes