#i will add in that a lot of these thoughts might get adjusted if i think of ways to differintiate them more

[stelladess]

I feel like using very powerful operators but your own strategy that you thought of takes more skill then copying exactly one to one a low rarity guide with the same exact timings and operators and everything does.

Ive mentioned before I have played a LOT of yugioh in my life and in trading card game circles there is a term called "netdecking". Where basically you copy another person´s deck (usually from the internet, thereby the "net" part).

There are a lot of reasons why people consider it bad, it being uncreative, stealing another person´s work but the one relevant to my point here is that it requires no understanding of *why* the deck is constructed like it is.

In my opinion the best way to build your deck is to decide on what kind of deck you want, build a cheap but solid enough version of that as you can (konami is making the "cheap" part harder and harder of course but still, on master duel it is still doable for many). And then you play with it. You see what works and what doesnt, you iterate over time, removing cards you end up not having use for and adding stuff that will help your strategy or counter things that gives you trouble. A lot of these things you add may also be engines or staples you can then put into a new deck once your old one has fallen behind from power creep or gotten everything banned, although certain themes are convenient in that they almost always work at least (shaddolls, branded, bystials, tearlaments and zombies are all some of my favorite deck types in part because they are very resistant to getting outdated, dragon combo is another one like that I just do not like using it).

This way you understand why every single card is there. You learn how to use them and WHY you use them instead of some other card. The adjustments you make you know the reasoning that went into. So a netdeck might not be terrible as the first version, but you should iterate on it based on your experience if you do that, and try to think about why the person who made this deck made the decisions they did (I also think this might be a risky starting point because it will likely be much more expensive then the approach I outlined since most really good decks will have a lot of cards that either were already pricy or just shot up in price after that).

If you do not understand your deck you cannot play it well no matter how good the deck is.

I have a similar issue with following guides completely. Watching them and trying to understand why the person who made the strategy does what they do is good, but if you just copy them without trying to get the actual thinking behind the strategy you are just gonna be stuck playing increasingly difficult parts of the game without having had to overcome the challenge to get there.

Chapter 7 is one of my favorite chapters of Arknights from a pure gameplay perspective because it really kicked my ass when I first got to it as a new player. It forced me to see weaknesses in my own roster (no levelled shifters, lacking vanguards, etc). And my favorite map is H12-4 because it presented so many little problems to solve and to beat it was this long process of having to isolate each problem and figure out a solution to it, one that didn't step on the toes of a previous solution for another problem. And sure some of those solutions ended up being "pull for Eyjaberry so I dont have to worry so much about elemental damage" but it still meant I was thinking about what the actual challenges of the map were and how to counter those. But a key thing of H12-4 is that it is a map that no matter how OP your roster gets you still have to use your head to beat. It is the the best boss battle in the entire game by a huge margin currently and I really hope we can get more as good as it in the future.

Anyway I think it is just more interesting to actually solve things by thinking about it yourself. Even if it requires you to use more powerful options then someone who does it with like only 3 and 4 stars and a single 6 star. The people coming up with those strategies are like, experts at the game. And it is far more valuable for a new player to actually learn to play on their own and make their own strategies, the basics, before they can work on gaining a deeper understanding and doing more challenging stuff. It takes time to get to the skill level where you can get the prestige of clearing the hardest maps in the game with no 6 stars or only welfare operators or stuff like that.

[moltensmusings]

I am curious for each strength and weakness for the teams I your AU:

For example , for team rwby strength they have unique semblance that can turn the tide of battle.

However there weakness is that they can be too gun ho for battle that it can backfire.

Team CRDL strength: powerful and very good at close combat but weakness is that they don’t have good range to win against the others

What is your version of their leadership between the teams?

Slightly longer post in coming. This did cause me to pause a bit to think on their differences as leaders. Under the cut:

Pyrrha is very good at being clear on what she expects from her teammates. Her training is intense but effective, from the minute she's leader she has a plan to ensure her team is efficient and tight. But she also tends to expect everyone to run the same way she does and because of that it takes her time to really understand how to get on everyone's level to lead them properly.

Her biggest struggle is with Jaune because while yes eventually he becomes the most important person at Beacon to her, initially he's a weak link who can hold and swing a sword, but that doesn't mean he can use it. Her need for perfection means that when teammates don't do something right the first time she'll often handle it herself. She's very smart and knows how to take down enemies, but leading a team who needs space to grow is new.

For Ruby, She can be impulsive, childish (she is only 15), and have trouble connecting with people often looking at their weapons first. In missing 2 years worth of schooling by being catapulted into Beacon I believe Ruby also misses out on some important lessons involving team work. She's not used to the idea of teams and doesn't run ideas by anyone before executing them. She can look at people and note their strengths and skills, but she doesn't see the people beyond that or really know how to connect with them on a deeper level. The nevermore fight does prove that she is capable though, and despite her flaws this potiential is what Ozpin wants to foster growth in.

Ruby being bad without her weapon in this case is explained as her almost having an anxiety attached to being without it. Her entire life is weapons, so to go without one feels like getting her arms hacked off.

Cardin's weakness is much more clearly that he's quick to anger and egotistical. Pyrrha's good at hiding her ego, Cardin doesn't exist in classmate's minds without it. At the start he has a survival of the fitest mentality that is at the core of his family and he's a bully. When his team doesn't listen he will storm off or scream at them.

But when the team is working on the same level he's very good at leading and directing. His parents raised him on battle tactics and famous military people so being tactical with his team is second nature. One thing that we'd see from his arc is that he's the leader capable of noting when a plan will go wrong right before it does and pivot his team to adjust for error incredibly quickly. When he gets over himself he is also an incredibly caring leader who wants his team to come back healthy and in one piece.

I think in terms of enemies they'd struggle against: pyrrha is weak against people who fight dirty. She's proud and wants to win duals the right way so when people stoop to low level tactics she tends to fumble.

Ruby's weakest enemy: human enemies in general are her weakness, killing Grimm is one thing but people are different. She pulls her punches because she doesn't want to hurt them.

Cardins weakest against enemies who exploit his anger. Insult him a bit and he's off his game. His semblance requiring concentration means that he desperately needs to improve how much of an effect people have on him when he's fighting them. It's also partially why having sky on his team works, because Sky gets under people's skin for fun. Cardin gets practice.

[chisungie]

.

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.

MASTERLIST | Next ->

“I don’t like this.” 

“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.” 

He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?” 

“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.” 

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago. 

He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink. 

He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her. 

“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting. 

As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care. 

He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long. 

His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic. 

Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not. 

He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack. 

Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week. 

You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head. 

You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath. 

“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-” 

“Classified?” You finish for her. 

Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...” 

The less there is to make you a target. 

You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time. 

What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.” 

You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal. 

That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military. 

That, and the excuse for violence. 

Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented. 

In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you. 

“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together. 

“Tired.” You run a hand across your face. 

“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.” 

You look nervous. 

He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly. 

This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega. 

His omega. 

As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy. 

“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand. 

He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly. 

He doesn’t even want to think about that. 

Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy. 

“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand. 

You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed. 

“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.” 

You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side. 

He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents. 

“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit. 

Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about. 

“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?” 

Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.” 

Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went. 

“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.” 

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks. 

“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.” 

Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right. 

Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.” 

“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega. 

“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”

“That could be dangerous.” Price says. 

“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.” 

Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.

“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” 

He hasn’t failed her yet. 

Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked. 

The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.

You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags. 

Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment. 

You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent. 

You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk. 

One more to go. 

You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk. 

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity. 

He’s going to be a problem. 

You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible. 

Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane. 

“Coming, Si?” 

Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared. 

You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute. 

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent. 

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack? 

“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door. 

Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly. 

Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says. 

You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no. 

You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back. 

“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.” 

It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression. 

Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?” 

Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.” 

Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it. 

You can hold power over them. 

The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to. 

You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.

Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile. 

Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell. 

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already. 

“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in. 

All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha. 

Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”  

Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs. 

“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?” 

You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.” 

“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer. 

You nod. “Yes, sir.” 

“You lived on base?” He asks. 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.” 

“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it. 

It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say. 

The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well. 

“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.” 

“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent. 

You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.” 

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks. 

You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.” 

“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks. 

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.” 

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks. 

Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance. 

“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.

“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.” 

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.” 

Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails. 

Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze. 

He’s going to be a problem. 

“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.” 

You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either. 

“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.” 

You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting. 

“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach. 

His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell? 

What if they don’t like the way you smell? 

“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you. 

You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier. 

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.” 

All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible. 

“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully. 

Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen. 

He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack. 

You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs. 

“Ready?” 

You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin. 

He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland. 

His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others. 

“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you. 

You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours. 

He’s testing you. 

You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl. 

He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting. 

Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached. 

You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place. 

“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?” 

You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head. 

“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.” 

His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland. 

You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you. 

“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze. 

“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this. 

“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”

He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice. 

Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him. 

You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat. 

You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper. 

“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek. 

You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze. 

You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them. 

They could if they wanted to. 

It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you. 

“You hungry, pup?” 

Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work. 

Pup. Price called you Pup. 

You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you. 

The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment. 

“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again. 

You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.” 

“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.” 

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out. 

“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear. 

His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes. 

Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear. 

The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing. 

He’s proving his ability as a provider. 

In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can. 

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you. 

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks. 

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost. 

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult. 

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I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

[straylightdream]

2 years of trying

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: husband!sehngcheol x !f.reader

you always thought conceiving a baby would be easy. It turns out both you and your husband were wrong.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, romance, established relationship

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: crying and lots of emotions, trying to conceive a child, mc is jealous their friends can have kids easily, names: bunny, baby (hers) baby (his) smut warning below the cut

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.k

here is my SVT taglist if you’re interested being add please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: trying to conceive a child, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, cum play, seungcheol is obsessed with getting his wife pregnant, creampie, mirror sex, size kink, seungcheol has a huge dick, pussy stretching, praise kink

-NOW-

You stared at the pregnancy test that was sitting on the bathroom sink. It’s been two years of marriage and you thought by now this would have been easier. The idea of having children started three months into marriage. Seungcheol loves the idea of being a father and you’re pretty sure he loves the act of trying to get you pregnant more. Before you even said “I do” it was clear he had a breeding kink. This man never wasted an opportunity fuck you completely raw and fill you up. Back when you were dating you often would tease him about his creampie obsession. Many nights in bed he would spend the whole night rambling on about wanting to fill you up.

At this point you’re pretty sure he’s taken you on every surface of your house. Since you started trying to conceive this man has become a master at tracking your cycle. He knows exactly when you’re ovulating. There is an app in his phone dedicated to tracking your cycle. He’s never more horny than when he knows ovulating. This man never misses an opportunity to try and get you pregnant.

-THEN-

He had you naked bent over the bathroom sink. His hands grip your soft hips as he thrust into you. You might have been married for two years, but you’ve been together five years all together. No matter how long you have been together you don’t think you’ll ever get over how big Seungcheol is. His first two thrust are always so slow giving you a chance to adjust to his size.

“Cheol-“ you moan, gripping the edge of the counter. The stretch is always painful to start. Luckily foreplay tends to make this easier. And lucky for you your husband loves going down on you.

His larger hands grip your soft hips holding you flush against his pelvis. “Am I too big for my wife?” This man knows his dick is huge and loves reminding you during times like this.

“You’re fucking huge,” you can only moan. He might be probably too big for you, but you’re addicted to how he feels stretching you. The pain only sticks around a few thrust before it turns into pleasure.

“Do you need me to stop?” He looks at you through the mirror.

“Absolutely not. What happened to fucking me until I’m pregnant?” You tease.

He doesn’t say anything, he just starts snapping his hips into yours at a quick pace. Your elbows rest on the counter as you arch your back. This man never seems more drunk on lust than when he’s trying his hardest to get you pregnant.

Reaching between your legs he rubs your clit quickly. He knows your body like the back of his hand and he knows this will push you over the edge quickly.

The coil in your stomach is tightening at a quick pace. Pushing your hips back against him you’re desperate for your release.

“Cheol-fuck-I can’t-“ you practically sob as he pushes you over the edge.

“Fuck-“ he moans moans loudly. Leaning over he presses his lips to your shoulder. Your eyes stay locked on the mirror watching as he falls apart.

Slowly he thrust into you riding out his high. Ever so slow he pulls out, watching as his cum slowly drips out. Running his fingers through your wet folds he pushes his cum back inside you, earning a moan from you.

-

You had started to give up hope that you might one day be a mother. Doubt fills your mind constantly that maybe there is something wrong with you. Your bottom lip was captured between your teeth as your eyes stared to brim with tears. You had always wanted to be a mother, but suddenly you were nervous. What if you weren't a good mother? What if your husband wasn’t ready to be a father. You didn’t understand why you were suddenly so nervous. You and Seungcheol had talked about it over and over again about how much you wanted a family. You have been constantly trying for the last two years.

Sitting on the bathroom floor with your back against the wall your husband is sitting next to you. His hand is rubbing your thigh soothing you. Staring at the pregnancy stick in your hand it reads “not pregnant” two words you have grown all too familiar with hearing.

Biting your bottom you try your hardest not to cry. Especially with your husband sitting next to you. There is this evil voice inside your head saying that you’re the problem. That something is wrong with you.

Closing your eyes you lean your head back clutching the test in your hand. You’ve grown all too familiar with this feeling.

“Bunny-“ he uses your nickname he had called you since you started dating. “We’ll keep trying.”

“I thought this was supposed to be easy. I stopped taking birth control two months before we got married. It’s been over two years and it’s not working.” All throughout college you had this fear that if you didn’t use a condom you were instantly going to get pregnant, but it turns out maybe you were just delusional.

“Bunny, it's okay that it’s not easy. We don’t have to give up. Don’t blame yourself. What if I’m shooting blanks?” He sounds so sad.

“Tell me how Wonwoo got his wife pregnant the first time they tried?” You remember the feeling of happiness and sadness when Wonwoo told you and Seungcheol he was going to be a father. You were so happy for your friends, but at the same time sad that you weren’t able to have a baby of your own. “Or how Jeonghan accidentally knocked up his fuck buddy.” That news might have hit you the hardest. You felt like a terrible person for being jealous that your friends could easily have kids.

Leaning over he presses his lips to your cheek, “it’s different for everyone.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” tears slowly start sliding down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Bunny, you don’t have to apologize. You’re valid for being upset.” Leaning over your head on his shoulder. “Did you want to stop trying for a little while?”

“Are you telling me you’re going to go back to wearing condoms?” Your husband had a breeding kink long before trying to get you pregnant.

A soft laugh passes his lips, “absolutely not. But maybe we just don’t focus on trying to make a baby. We could just have sex as we please and not hyper focus on when you’re ovulating.”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

After that night you took a break from trying. That didn’t seem to stop your husband's desire for you though. He took every single chance he could to worship you.

Laying in bed you scrolled through your phone seeing photos of Wonwoo and his very pregnant wife. You don’t feel as jealous as you did before. Seungcheol climbs in bed, turning off the light on his night stand and rolls over on his side and looks at you.

“You know, before we started trying to have kids it felt like I didn’t know anyone that was pregnant and now I know two people having kids.”

Reaching out he pushes your hair behind your ear. He’s also been so gentle with you when you need it. “Maybe that’s a sign we’re next?”

“Hopefully.”

-NOW-

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You picked up the pregnancy test and walked into the living room to find Seungcheol walking out of the kitchen holding a bottle of water. You couldn’t help but stare at him. He was so handsome, and you hope your child got most of his good genes. His hair was pushed back and he was wearing a pair of loose jeans and white V-neck. He looked up and gave you a gummy smile. His smile dropped when he saw you looked like you were about to cry.

“Baby you alright?” he asked, walking towards you.

You nodded and held up the pregnancy test. His eyes went wide and reached out for the test. He held it in his hands and stared at the two pink lines. His eyes looked up at you and you smiled and nodded.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” he asked, almost afraid to get his hopes up. You nod unable to find the words to say anything else. This whole moment doesn’t feel real. “Oh my god,” he closed the distance between you and wrapped his arms around you and picked you and spun you around. “We’re having a baby,” he sat you down.

“You’re gonna be a dad,” you smiled as the tears started to fall.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, suddenly worried.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know we have wanted this for so long, and I guess I got scared that maybe I won’t be a good mother.”

“Oh, baby,” he reached up and rested his hand on your cheek and pushed away the tears that were falling. “You are going to be an amazing mother.” His words made you even more emotional. You didn’t understand how you managed to marry the sweetest man ever.

“Are you ready to be a father?” You asked as his hand was still resting on her cheek.

“Oh yes baby. I can wait to be father.”

“We’re gonna be parents,” you smiled and then leaned forward and pressed your lips to his for a soft kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too baby.”

-

Being pregnant wasn’t easy, but that was okay. Your first trimester was filled with morning sickness. The thought of food made you sick. By the time your second trimester came around you were so incredibly horny you would practically rip your husbands clothes off the moment he walked into the house. The third trimester your body ached, but you couldn’t wait to meet your daughter. Luckily your husband was there to dote on you and wait on you hand and foot.

Sitting in Wonwoo and his wife’s house you watched as Seungcheol held their little boy. He was practically a spitting image of Wonwoo. The site of your husband rocking the baby made your heart swell. You couldn’t wait to watch him with your daughter. Jeonghan came up next with his own daughter in his arms.

“How is your baby fever?” He jokes.

“Consider I’m going to pop soon, pretty under control,” you laugh.

“How is yours?” Jeonghan was never the type that wanted to be a father, but when he found out he knocked up his friends something in him changed.

“You know Darling was already talking about another one. It doesn’t help that Wonwoo knocked up his wife again.” It’s clear Wonwoo spilled the beans to other people then just you and your husband.

Seungcheol hands Wonwoo back his son and walks over to you. He puts his hand on your round stomach. “Pretty soon our little girl is going to be coming to these get-togethers.”

-

The day your daughter was born everything felt right in the world. Holding her as she cried made you realize you were going to love her like nothing else on this planet. The sight of Seungcheol holding your daughter made you sob. She looked just like her dad. The love behind your husband's eyes made all the hard times worth it. She was absolutely beautiful and you would wait another two again in a heartbeat if it meant you got to experience this joy again.

-

The day your friends met your daughter was perfect. Wonwoo and his pregnant wife brought over their son. Jeonghan and his little girl arrived while his girlfriend was coming over late. Mingyu and his girlfriend seemed like the next pair with a case of baby fever.

Mingyu stood in the kitchen holding your little girl rocking her. Seungcheol walked over nudging your side. He presses his lip to your cheek. “I think it’s safe to say Mingyu and his girlfriend might get a little fast and loose with the birth control after this.”

“Is it bad I want to try for another one as soon as I’m cleared?” Even though you struggled to conceive, your daughter. You already want to try for a second baby. At least this time if it doesn’t work you know you have the perfect little family with your husband and daughter.

“I have no issue trying to get you pregnant again.” Something tells you Seungcheol breeding kink will never go away, and you’re okay with that.

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[estcaligo]

SSR Sebek's Nightmare Before Christmas Vignette (English)

“I shall share a tale of worth”

*I use Japanese honorifics such as kun, san and sama *Please do not use/repost my translation without credits/link

Centre of Halloween Town Sebek: “Hey, Bones! I’ve brought the things you asked for! Where should I put them?”

Jack: “Thanks, Sebek! Could you put them next to the well?”

Sebek: “Next to the well…? There are things scattered all over the place! Come on, move that basket out of the way now!”

Jack: “Ah, my bad! Let me just…”

???“Oh, it’s better to remove that basket from there indeed. Consider it done!”

Sebek: “Ah! Bones! Quickly, don’t just stand there! Move that basket!”

Azul: “No need to rush! The task is already completed. Now, please put your things where you wanted.”

Sebek: “Gr… unbelievable…”

Jack: “Hm? Is there a problem with Azul-kun helping out?”

Sebek: “A HUGE PROBLEM! Owning this man a favor is the biggest mistake of your life!”

Azul: “No need to think of it as a favor. I’ll be happy with simply an appropriate compensation.”

Sebek: “It was your initiative; I didn’t ask you to help! Who put that basket there in the first place? Hm? Jack, isn’t it Sally’s basket?”

Jack: “Ah, that’s right! It was a treat from her. Sally is smart, thoughtful… and extremely kind. I sometimes skip meals when I’m absorbed in something. The treat this time was especially delicious.”

Sebek: “It sounds like you get treats like this from her quite often. Without the basket, it’ll be hard for her to bring the next treat, so you should go and return it to Sally. And while you’re there, why not tell her what you think about her meals?”

Jack: “Yeah, you might be right…”

??? “Hey Jack! We’ve made some adjustments to the decorations according to your instructions yesterday. Can you come and check?”

Jack: “Yup, sure! Yeah, looks great! Keep it up, guys, and finish the rest of the decorations!”

??? “Oi Jack, come taste this sweet, would ya? We think they turned out pretty neat!”

Jack: “Let me see… Ooh, very tasty! But I’d add more spices!”

??? “Jack, there you are! I need your advice on something…”

Jack: “Okay, coming! Just a moment, alright?”

Jack: “I’d love to return the basket and express my gratitude, but, as you can see, I’m a bit tied up here… So, Sebek, could you please return the basket and leave a message from me to her?”

Sebek: “I REFUSE!!! She always treats you so kindly. Wouldn’t it be only fair if you personally go and express your feelings of gratitude?”

Jack: “Well, I guess you’re right...”

Azul: “Well then! Please, if you need your basket delivered to Sally, I’m the person you can rely on!”

Jack: “Azul-kun, will you really do it?”

Azul: “Of course! I can’t just leave you in trouble, Jack-san. Let’s handle this matter with a spirit of true compassion, shall we?”

Sebek: “Hold on! Jack asked ME for help. Why are you suddenly jumping into our conversation? What are you up to?”

Azul: “My, my… why would you say such things? I simply want to help a person in need. Especially a lady with love life issues… So, here’s a suggestion: I’d like to take over this basket delivery task as compensation for helping you clear up earlier.”

Sebek: “.........Very well. I do not wish to owe you a debt. However! I will accompany you to Sally’s place to make sure you’re not plotting anything underhanded.”

Azul: “Fine. I don’t mind. Because even if I say no, you’re still coming, aren’t you?”

Jack: “Hmm, is it really okay if you two go together…?”

Azul/Sebek: “Of course! / SURE!”

Jack: “Thanks a lot! Please tell Sally I’m grateful!”

Dr. Finkelstein's Lab

Azul: “We’re here. I wonder if Sally-san is at home?”

Sebek: “Since Sally is in charge of cooking, I think she might be in the kitchen. HEY! SALLY! ARE YOU HERE??”

Azul: “Don’t shout all of a sudden!”

Dr. Finkelstein: “Seriously now! Don’t shout like that; I can hear you.”

Sebek: “Finkelstein, I don’t remember calling you. So, is Sally not at home?”

Dr. Finkelstein: “Got business with Sally? Well, I won’t let you see her anyway.”

Sebek: “Not letting us… what do you mean by that?”

Dr. Finkelstein: “She keeps disobeying me, so I had to lock her in her room to reflect on her behavior.”

Sebek: “Locked up… so that’s why she… HEY SALLY! WE WILL LEAVE THE BASKET IN THE KITCHEN! Apparently, that was loud enough for her to hear me too. Let’s go back, Azul-senpai.”

Azul: “This wasn’t only about the basket—we still have a message to deliver from Jack-san, remember?”

Sebek: “That’s a matter he should have conveyed himself!”

Azul: “Abandoning entrusted jobs will tarnish your reputation and shake people’s trust in you. But I suppose we can’t just break in… Very well. Let’s try again later.”

Sebek: “......”

Town Hall

Sally: “Good evening, everyone!”

Sebek: “Sally, is that you? If you’re looking for Jack, he’s not here.”

Sally: “I see… Ah! N-no, that’s not why I came to see him… Um… Right, I just came to express my gratitude. Thanks for delivering the basket earlier, Sebek-kun.”

Sebek: “Hmph, what nonsense. You came here not because of me, did you? Speaking of which, Jack wouldn’t resort to such indirect tactics…”

Sally: “Oh dear… what are you talking about?”

Sebek: “Let’s have this conversation somewhere else. Come with me, Sally.”

Alleyway

Sebek: “This should be a sufficient distance…”

Sally: “What is it, Sebek-kun? Is this some kind of private conversation? Some sort of discussion not meant for other ears?”

Sebek: “Yes, and that’s for your sake. I’ll be direct with you.

 With such a roundabout approach as you’re using now, your feelings will never reach Jack.”

Sally: “Huh?! N-no, that’s not it… I don’t have any special feelings toward Jack…”

Sebek: “ENOUGH OF THIS! HOW STUBBORN YOU ARE! Have you forgotten that Trey-senpai and I were helping you with cooking? You jumped out of the window and said it was easier than using the stairs… So you were really locked up in that room. I heard it from Finkelstein himself.”

Sally: “……”

Sebek: “Trapped and unable to move around freely, yet you still managed to think and act in your own way. Hitting the ground and getting your body torn apart again and again, just to deliver your treats to Jack… Not long after coming to Halloween Town, it was clear to me how you feel about Jack.

But that man… of all things, he called you a ‘kind person’? I’m not saying you aren’t, but really, do you believe you treat everyone without bias?

Jack Skellington is far too thick-headed! You have to make it clear to him at least once; otherwise, he won’t get it.”

Sally: “...Thank you, Sebek-kun, for saying such things for my sake.”

Sebek: “It’s simply infuriating to observe! The timid attitude, the dense man, and how devotion is just being wasted!”

Sally: “Yes… it’s great when your efforts are acknowledged. But I can’t bring myself to share my feelings. Jack is admired by all. He’s the Pumpkin King who makes anyone tremble in fear. I could never stand next to him as his partner… It’s utterly unrealistic. We’re not compatible at all.”

Sebek: “Ugh, just watching you now makes me angry…..I shall share a tale of worth then. In my world, there’s a classical novel called ‘Omiro and Riettojyu’. A couple of lovers, whose families disapprove of their marriage plans to elope, but after going through many obstacles, the plan ultimately fails. After being brought back to their families, the lovers live their lives in tears thinking of each other, whom they can no longer meet…that’s the gist of it.”

Sally: “That’s a very sad story…”

Sebek: “Indeed so. But it’s not just a sad story; it teaches the reader an important lesson.”

Sally: “What kind of… important lesson?”

Sebek: “The lovers in the story abandoned the hope of earning their families' acceptance. They opted to forsake everything and elope. I’ll omit the circumstances surrounding the failure of the elopement, but the cause of this story's tragic ending is that the protagonists failed to articulate their feelings and thoughts clearly.

 Had they made sure to share the details of their plot and verify the truth of the rumors they heard with those involved, I can picture them having a happy future. I think that the author perhaps aimed to convey to readers both the despair of surrendering and the necessity of communicating through words.

Naturally, interpretations may vary from read to read, but that’s how I personally interpret it! 

A story cannot be born without thoughts and feelings that one wishes to share with others. Could it be that the author of this story also experienced regret after giving up on something and neglecting to express it in words? I’ve read plenty of other books too. Numerous tales illustrate how the lack of verbal expression leads to misunderstandings and conflicts.”

Sally: “Hehe, Sebek-kun, I see you’re an avid reader. So if I don’t give up… and express my feelings properly… will I eventually be rewarded?”

Sebek: “No idea! But you must believe and take action.”

Sally: “Oh... such powerful words. You must have a reason to hold that belief, Sebek-kun.”

Sebek: “My parents faced opposition to their marriage from my maternal grandfather. However, my mother went against his wishes and married my father. 

Since then, my mother has been making every effort to get my grandfather to acknowledge their relationship. From time to time, she sends letters enclosed with photos of them as a couple or with the whole family. 

On days off, she takes us, her grandchildren, to visit our grandfather and invites him to family celebration dinners. And I am sure there are many other efforts she makes that I don’t see or don’t know about. 

Even though my grandfather still disapproves of my parents’ marriage, my mother continues to believe that if she keeps expressing with her words that she married the man she loves, built a family, and is living very happily… one day, my grandfather will understand. And he will genuinely bless her marriage to the man she truly loves.

In fact, there seems to be some progress. At the beginning of their marriage, my grandfather would turn my dad away at the door when he visited... There's been a slight increase in the times my grandfather and father meet lately, though it amounts to maybe once a year... and my grandfather never makes eye contact with my father and is constantly frowning. 

But I think this progress is the result of my mother having been telling my grandfather for so long how happy she is.”

Sally: “I see… You and your mother are both able to express your feelings through words properly, Sebek-kun. But I’m not like yo—”

Sebek: “Do you intend to dwell on it still?! However, I suppose… I can empathize with the worries and frustrations you’re experiencing.”

Sally: “Really?”

Sebek: “The esteemed Malleus-sama, whom I deeply admire, is the future king of my home country. He is not just of noble birth but also a powerful magician renowned across the world. He is truly a wonderful person whom I respect deeply from the bottom of my heart!

As I continue to understand the greatness of Malleus-sama, I am reminded of my own inexperience. Regardless of how much I study or how hard I train, I can't reach the level of even my older fellow disciple*, let alone come close to Malleus-sama’s level. There have even been times when I’ve worried that I’m unworthy to serve such an incredible person.”

Sally: “Yes, I know this feeling… and it makes my heart ache.”

Sebek: “However, even if I am inexperienced or not skilled enough, it’s not a valid reason to distance myself from the one I admire.”

Sally: “ ! ”

Sebek: “I made it clear that I wanted to serve the distinguished Malleus-sama. And he granted me the privilege of being by his side as his guard.

 Naturally, I hold the status of a trainee. I still need more knowledge, strength, and experience to become a formal guard. However, if I keep holding back and feeling hesitant, I will only be stuck! As I work diligently alongside the person I hold dear, I will eventually become suitable to serve them.

 Above all, I despise cowardliness and a lack of effort! Therefore, Sally, you must strive harder! If you wish to stand beside the Pumpkin King, you must give it your all, both in action and in speech!”

Sally: “If you never give up and continue to put in the effort, and express your feelings clearly, those feelings may be rewarded… Alright, it might be difficult to express everything right away, but I will try to tell Jack how I feel!”

???: “Oho, if it isn’t Sally and Sebek-kun over here?”

Sally: “Jack!”

Jack: “What were you talking about, just the two of you in a place like this?”

Sebek: “Humph, nothing that concerns you!”

Jack: “What was that?!”

Sally: “Jack, calm down. I was just thanking him for delivering the basket, that is all.”

Jack: “Ah, so that’s what it was about. Well, I also wanted to thank you once again for the treat.”

Sebek: “Humph, it seems like the moment when Sally’s devotion will be recognized is approaching.”

Centre of Halloween Town

Epel: “There goes Sebek, shouting again… He just can’t shut up, as usual!”

Sally: “He just wants to express everything he feels and thinks clearly, making sure the other person gets the message. Isn’t that why he’s using such a loud voice?”

Epel: “Sally-san, aren’t you being too kind?! Don’t you think he lacks some sensitivity or something?” Sally: “Not at all. His words gave me the courage to take a step forward. I’m truly happy that Sebek came to Halloween Town and crossed paths with me and Jack.”

*It was unclear whether Sebek referred to Silver or all his older peers in general, so I decided to leave it as if he's mentioning Silver.

[shoutosbaeby]

THE LETHAL FACE CARD…?????

Anyway I think ppl liked the last one so I have some Shoto x female reader headcanons for u :D

The slightly nsfw ones are aged up headcanons so minors DNI !!!

SWEET/CUTE

- Gives the best comfort hugs. He’s warm on his left side as well so it just adds to it. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, he’s there.

- Loves giving you forehead kisses and pecks that go up from your collarbone to your jawline. He’d leave sweet marks on your neck sometimes. But he’d do it affectionately, you know?

- Isn’t good at cooking but if you’re ever on your period and you’re craving something, he’s go out and get it for you. (Might threaten Katsuki or Sato into making it but that’s a last resort) He would also reassure you constantly that he doesn’t mind and understands that periods are completely normal. He also uses his left hand as a heating pad for your belly if you ever get cramps <3

- He’s very accommodating. He’ll sleep on whichever side of the bed that you like, watch whatever shows or movies you want with you, play any video game you choose and read every single book recommendation you give him. He’ll adjust to whatever you prefer and doesn’t mind letting you choose most of the time.

- Not very affectionate through words. It actually takes him a really long time to say “I love you.” But it’s so obvious that he loves you just from everything he does for you. His love languages are acts or service and giving gifts !! He has your favorite things memorized.

- Very laid back and chill so he doesn’t get jealous most of the time. But he draws the line if someone touches you.

- He actually gives you a lot of attitude (that’s just who he is) but knows when to stop. If you have a bad day you won’t hear a single teasing word from him until you’re feeling better.

- Talking about bad days, he always makes them better. You could be exhausted and stressed out after a long day and Shoto would get you one of your favorite snacks and watch whatever show you want with you to make you feel better. Or he’d just hold you until you fall asleep.

- During winter, you sleep on his left and during summer you sleep on his right.

- Loves to see you in his clothes because they look so huge on you and he finds it adorable.

ANGSTY/SAD

- Sometimes he has days where a trauma response will take over and he wouldn’t like it when people touch him. It lasts a few days and only happens when he gets stressed out or his PTSD reacts badly to something. But even if he doesn’t want to be touched, your presence comforts him more than anything.

- When he has nightmares, he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind and stay awake for the rest of the night. You’re the only thing that keeps him grounded during that time.

- Whenever you both argue, he’s terrified that he’ll do something. Even though he would never do anything like his father did. He’s scared that he’ll end up that way and ends up avoiding you sometimes because of that thought. But some communication and a few hugs can always solve the issue <3

SLIGHTLY NSFW (Aged up Shoto and I’m keeping it short because idk how to write stuff like this.)

- Covers you in hickeys. Absolutely loves seeing you marked up after a long night.

- Clever with his fingers.

- Very few words are spoken, but he gets things done for sure.

- The best aftercare in the world.

- Doesn’t have the highest drive, but it goes up when he starts. (Ifykwim)

- Will make sure to absolutely wreck you every single time <33

THAT WAS SO AWKWARD TO WRITE I NEED TO IMPROVE AT THIS 😭😭😭

Anyways hope u liked -3-

[tangents-within-tangents]

Thoughts on Echo as amputee/disability representation

First and foremost, I am not disabled or an amputee and I don’t claim to speak for those communities (and if I was I couldn't speak for everyone). What little I do know mostly comes from this youtube channel (@oakwyrm), this post, and other research I’ve done for my writing (and like one amputee I kinda knew in passing). By all means correct me and add to the conversation, I just have some thoughts I want to share because I haven’t really seen this discussed anywhere

Overview

So Echo is interesting. He is a triple amputee which is pretty rare in media. His disabilities come from extremely traumatic circumstances: injured in a near-death experience, imprisoned and dehumanized as an experiment with no autonomy over what happened to his body.

There are a few moments in the shows where Echo is treated… questionably. Like this bit where Rex uses him as an example of the Separatists' evils to convince the locals to fight back:

To be fair, yeah Echo’s treatment does prove that the Techno Union is not neutral like they claim. The modifications that everyone is gasping in horror at here obviously weren’t made with comfort and accessibility in mind, nor with Echo’s consent. But you still just want to be sure that “They took away his freedom, his humanity, they tried to turn him into a machine” is about using him as a living computer, not the fact that he is missing limbs. 

The Batch is also pretty insensitive toward him and his trauma imo, which is weird considering they've supposedly also faced discrimination for their mutations

Disabled people do have to deal with stuff like this in this day and age so I guess it can speak to those experiences. I think especially him being mistaken as a droid (and Hunter going along with it (bruh)) might resonate with some people. 

Aside from that stuff, Echo isn't really treated any differently as a character/person which is really good (as low of a bar as that is).

We get this moment in CW where Echo contemplates that yeah things are gonna be different now

While also (imo at least) showing that he is still the same person regardless, evidenced by the fact that he just echoed Rex :,) I also think it's significant that he joins the Bad Batch on his own terms and we're given a really emotional scene to specifically show that he's not just like 'lumped in with the other misfits' but that it is his choice to go where he feels his place is.

A lot of people, myself included, are disappointed that TBB didn't have more time to explore Echo's PTSD, but I think the one panic attack scene we did get is really good. Even thought it's minor it at least is an appropriate reaction from a guy who was medically tortured (which is more than I've come to expect from Star Wars shows lol)

And it's really sweet to see Omega showing Echo some empathy and consideration.

It would have been nice to see more of his adjustment period, and other side effects like chronic pain and maintenance, but there’s a lot of daily life stuff the show never had time for (i.e. we don’t know if he removed his prosthetics to sleep, but we also never saw him sleep anyway). His disabilities might take on a background role (much like the character himself sadly) but for the most part they aren’t invisible or erased, nor do they define his character and arc.

Physical Appearance

Okay this one is bit dicey, bc on the one hand, yes complaints that Echo’s paleness (most likely caused by burns from the explosion or chemical burns from the cryo-chamber) is whitewashing are totally valid. But I also think you can draw comparisons to real life conditions that affect pigmentation/complexion (like you know burns). So while I understand why a lot of fanart will depict him with his original skin tone and with hair, consider that there are real people who have to live with temporary or permanent changes to their appearance, and the idea of “fixing" him by making him look more like his old self can be problematic.

It's also interesting to note that Echo could act as a reversal of the 'disabled/disfigured = evil' trope. He's pale and bald and wears black and red, which is so often visually associated with villains, but we all know Echo is the bestest boy™

The Headpiece

Echo’s headpiece is interesting because within the show we don’t actually ever learn much about it (idk if there is more info in books or whatever bc i don’t have them so?). He didn’t have it in CW so we know it didn’t come from the Techno Union and therefore Echo probably had more choice with it. We don’t know its exact purpose but it’s most likely related to his scomping abilities. When he is hacking with his scomp in CW, before he has his headpiece, it’s clearly very mentally straining:

We don’t see him struggling like this in TBB once he does have it (though that could be bc he got more used to it over time). There doesn't seem to be much of an impact when he removes his headpiece in s3 ep14-15, except that he gets stuck in the ports every time he uses his scomp which is not something we’ve seen before: 

There might not be an exact real-world equivalent, but the headpiece is some kind of accessibility aid. It means that someone specifically designed a device to help him adapt to the changes the Techno Union made, as well as a helmet that integrates it. It’s removable and visually very present, much like a cochlear implant would be. (A lot of people actually headcanon it to act partially as a hearing aid, since it makes sense that Echo’s hearing would have been damaged in the explosion, but there isn't really any indication of this in canon.) The headpiece is never really acknowledged in the show, but I think that's a good thing. It's something he needs/wants and it just exists, completely normalized, and that's pretty cool 👍

Legs

Sigh... So from the very first episode of TBB I was really disappointed that the animation team or whoever completely visually erased Echo’s prosthetic legs (I think we all were, honestly, if fanart is anything to go by). It’s one thing when he’s in armor because he would probably want to protect his prosthetics, but we literally see him in his blacks and there is no indication whatsoever that he lost his legs even though it was not left up for debate at all in CW:

Like ??????!?

This is just really strange to me! Idk what went on behind the scenes with this decision but I don’t really see why it would be that much harder to animate or anything since it’s 3D and they've done it before. We do see some pretty sophisticated cybernetic technology in Star Wars canon that mimics real limbs:

But Luke’s fancy hand is technically 20ish years from now, so Anakin and Maul are more of a representation of what level we could expect here

So yeah, for no apparent reason, his leg amputation is effectively, visually and narratively nonexistent. Which is not great 👎

Arm!

The scomp on the other hand (uh lol!) is the complete opposite and I kinda love it!

At first I, like many others, thought it was a bit odd that they didn’t give Echo a prosthetic arm. Losing hands is basically a Star Wars tradition at this point, so robotic arms/hands are well established within the worldbuilding: 

We aren’t necessarily given a canon reason for why Echo doesn't get a cybernetic arm (again unless it's in some lore book I haven’t read, sorry). General fanon explanations I’ve seen are that he either couldn’t because the Techno Union wired the scomp too far into his nervous system, and/or the resources to give him one were deemed too expensive for a clone (what about his legs tho?), or that he chose not to, usually because he thought the scomping was useful. 

Regardless, I actually really love this choice (and it's the whole reason I made this post), because here's the thing: There’s a lot of problematic tropes out there that either erase/cure disabilities or compensate them with perks (like how pretty much any blind character is actually not blind by some sort of magic power). With amputees that is done with robotic arms. The character is still an amputee or course, and there is still value in that representation, if this story from Mark Hamill that makes me tear up is anything to go by:

but for the most part these characters function like anyone else, just with a limb that looks a little different. It’s no more than a video game skin, an able-bodied actor with a green screen glove. It “cures” the disability, or it actually makes the character even stronger than usual: 

It usually makes sense within the world of the story, but the reason it’s not so great in my opinion is that in the real world we just do not have technology anywhere close to that yet. Prosthetics can more or less replace any mobility from lost legs, but not for all the complexities of a hand (and even if they could the average person wouldn’t be able to afford it).

So

I think it's actually really super cool that Echo’s scomp bypasses the canonically-established amputee erasure and functions much like a stump would irl. He integrates it into his movements and everyday life and it’s (as far as I know) a lot closer to an everyday amputee’s experience. 

It doesn’t define his character, it doesn’t hold him back, he lives a full life, the other’s don’t treat him any differently, and he’s still a total karking badass 

The only additional thing is that he sometimes uses it as a weapon (which given his story, I think it’s cool to see him taking back autonomy in a way, and we only see that like twice)

And also the scomping, which could be seen as the 'added/compensating superpower' trope. But narratively it's no different than if he was plugging in with a hacking gadget of some kind (he didn't necessarily "need" to lose his arm for it) and it’s not like Echo is completely defined by this skill. Personally, I think it's well worth the positives of him actually having a visible and realistically impactful amputation. 

I see a lot of posts or comments out there that say stuff like “how come Echo doesn’t get a hand?” or fanworks that do give him one and I just think it’s a bit of a shame. If he did get a robotic hand, it just would have disappeared the same way his legs and Anakin’s arm did (aside from that one time he got yoinked by a magnet). When Echo did “get a hand” in the last two episodes there were comments like “yay he finally got a hand! but it doesn’t even work” but I was actually so relieved that it didn’t! Bc for one thing that wouldn’t make any sense, he grabbed it off a droid, it wasn’t designed to implement with his scomp, that would be really complicated. But more importantly because it again refused to erase/cure his disability! It functioned like a real-world cosmetic prosthetic (useless beyond appearance) which is exactly what he needed it for, so that he could blend in better with his disguise.

And he continually took it off throughout the episode and ditched it at the end. He only used it for the necessity of a stealth mission, he doesn’t feel the need to visually “fit in” in his daily life. 

And, last but very much not least, he made a dad joke and from my intel that is very accurate representation!

TLDR: Echo’s scomp is actually really cool from an amputee representation perspective, especially within Star Wars, and I think that deserves some appreciation 

[biolumien]

palette

hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899

you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you. 

that was odd. 

you did most—hell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. you’d been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could. 

bofurin boys often covered it up—as was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when you’d come back around and find work you’d slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint. 

but back to the feeling that you were being watched. 

“who’s there?” you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly. 

“so you’re the one doin’ all those green tags!” a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. “did you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?” 

fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckin’-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justice—they also practically were civil servants that served the community—and now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye. 

he wasn’t even dressed in his furin uniform—you think you’ve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about him—paired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.

“so what?” you ask defensively. 

“you do know the graffiti’s illegal, right?” umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. “you could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!” he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you. 

“like i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,” you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, “no offense.” 

“mm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurin’s image doesn’t mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,” umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “but! i figured i’d come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!” 

umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, right—?

“i just wanted to ask you to stop,” umemiya says. “i mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your works—i remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the way—and—“

huh?

“i really like your art! i was wondering, if maybe…”

you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a moment–

“do you want to come to furin and paint? there’s a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, that’s covered—and plus, at night, you’d still get a lot of time to do whatever you want—”

“… you’re offering me a place at your school to just—paint?” you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“well, yeah!” umemiya says. “i mean, it’s a waste to paint over your hard work, right? it’s different than the other tags.”

“... is it?” you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall. 

“well, i’m not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intention–but i’d like to think yours does! and it’s kind. and i think there’s people at furin who might appreciate it.” 

“well…”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“well, okay,” you say. “but if anyone tries to start something–”

“please,” umemiya says. “we’re not animals. it’ll be great to have you.” and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.

are you really doing this?

umemiya’s expression is bright, warm. 

you shake his hand. 

his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumb–and you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiya’s thrall–lured in by him like a sweet siren song.

“fine. see you tomorrow, then,” you mutter, your cheeks heating up.

[xinfinityl0ve17]

Yukari Ōba

Yukari Ōba is the exclusive fashion designer for MALICE MIZER. All of their costumes are her work.

People with titles like "planner," "editor," or "writer" often like to separate their jobs into small roles. As a result, some people end up with two or three titles and end up saying how busy they are. Among them i think the profession of designer is currently being broken down into the most minute distinctions. It’s not just about people who create design sketches, cut fabrics, or shape the garments—there are specialists in hats, accessories, knitwear, and so on. I can understand if someone with a foot fetish only wants to make things related to feet, but recently, something’s been bothering me. It starts with the question of whether it's okay to refer to Ōba-san simply as a "costume designer."

She’s responsible for the image of MALICE MIZER after their revival. Under the name of costumes, accessories, and hairstyling, she handles everything from patchwork to welding (pay attention to KAMI's hands this time) to even the stage props. Can we really call her a "designer" or "costume person" in just one second?

However, as I was agonizing over this, Ōba-san spoke enthusiastically, saying, "This part was really difficult, look at it! Oh, and here too..." She talked joyfully about how she changed the fabrics little by little and factored in lighting effects. She said with a laugh, "People often tell me, 'No one will notice you went that far,' but I love doing it." Through her words, I understood one thing: Ōba-san doesn't care what she's called, as long as she can create costumes. It’s her passion. That's why such lively, remarkable costumes are born from her work.

Mana

Mana had told me, "I imagine the feathers gently falling off!" (laughs). It wasn’t meant to change that much, but after making it, I thought, "I want to make it cuter," partly because too much of the legs were showing. I used a fabric called washer organza for the feathers, and also incorporated it into the underskirt, creating a tutu-like effect with about four layers to add volume. The pom-poms were something Mana brought in, saying, "I want to attach these somewhere," and when he attached them herself, she said, "It's cute!" (laughs). Actually, he also made the wig and chains with his own hands.

The butterflies on the wings aren’t real, of course (laughs), but I dyed each one individually. Even in places where it seems casual, there’s a lot of effort behind it (laughs). The fabric for the costume was something Mana requested, saying he wanted a luxurious material that looks like beads. I brought various options and he was especially fond of this one fabric because it’s very light. He even said, "It feels like I’m wearing nothing, this is perfect!" (laughs). It was a hit (laughs). As for the accessories, he said he wanted something with the feel of a wedding fountain with light shining inside it (laughs). I remade it several times to create something that bounces back when touched.

We also tore up light blue feathers and embedded them. We worked hard on even the smallest details that might seem like nothing at first glance (laughs). To make sure the guitar strap doesn’t get tangled, I discreetly made the wings detachable with Velcro (laughs).

Közi

Közi is someone who likes to plan everything from the start. When I first saw the design, I thought of a fiery phoenix, so I decided to make it based on that image. The fabric is the same as Mana's but in a different color. He said, "I've worn something like this before." This time, he wanted something that resembled a jumpsuit. Even though it has no elasticity, I went ahead and made it, but when he wore it, he said, "It's tight..." (laughs). Even though it was restrictive, he’s someone who enters the role through appearance.

The feathers on the chest were dyed with a gradient because I wanted to add that effect, but balancing it was tricky. While adjusting during the fitting, I mixed in red, which is his signature color. This jumpsuit also has Velcro to make it easier for the guitar strap to pass through. The accessories ended up looking very different from the design sketches because when we attached them to the sleeves, it made playing the guitar difficult (laughs). So, when we finished one sleeve, we decided to wrap it around his neck, creating a more luxurious design. The wings on his back are made from aurora film, which changes color depending on the light, appearing red or gold. The material is aluminum, making it very heavy, but the overall cohesiveness of the costume is strong, so he managed to play with it as it was. As for the strawberry hat, we added three-dimensionality using feathers, doubling its size at Közi’s request.

By the way, when he wears the costume, he’s 196 cm tall, from his shoes to the top of his head (laughs). All the members end up being around that height, right? So we make the inseam 100 cm. People always ask, "Who on earth is going to wear these?" (laughs).

Yu~ki

He had an image of a "beast" in mind, and even Yu~ki himself said, "This is quite an adventure." The skirt was actually his first try—a dress made of enamel, something we figured out together during the fitting process. It’s a double-layered design, with the back being longer and slits cut into it, creating this eerie look. The bones are designed to resemble human bones, adding shadow to enhance the effect. The back is made of two layers of umbrella-like fabric, with a sheer fabric sandwiched in between to create a shadow effect. At first glance, it looks like a single layer, but there's a lot of depth (laughs). In terms of time, his costume was the fastest to make because once Yu~ki decides on a design, he sticks to it.

Yu~ki, from the start, based his look on the initial image and always strives to get as close to it as possible. The hardest part was dealing with the enamel fabric's texture. Although we wanted it to look big, enamel has this shiny, slick look, so we used a technique like gathering to create a pinched effect, making it appear more three-dimensional, even under lights. This time, it's sleeveless, but the tattoos he recently got give it a good balance. However, it seems it takes quite a long time to paint his arms, which is a challenge (laughs).

Kami

For Bel Air, it seems that the design he envisioned was difficult to realize. This time, I adjusted the shape of the collar slightly upwards to make it easier to take off. Since taking off the costume was a concern, I incorporated his favorite Rurubar lace in two layers and embroidered it with CD sequins to give off a subtle shimmer, ensuring that the fans could see the light reflecting off it. The sequins were also added to the wings, inspired by his recent thematic focus. They create a fantastical effect, with a gradient from blue to purple as the light shines on them. The wings are the largest element, but they’re lightweight, which allowed Kami to say, "I want to perform while wearing them" (laughs).

For the headpiece, i dyed a cup and embedded black feathers as an accent giving it a mysterious shape that he can just throw on. Lately, he’s been wanting to wear a pink wig that he bought himself, but it’s a bit too intense, so I’m thinking of adding some mesh to tone it down (laughs). The overall concept was inspired by looking at an insect encyclopedia, specifically butterflies. Additionally as Kami insisted from the beginning, there’s a tail attached (laughs).

Gackt

This time, all the members wanted to have wings, so that served as the basis for the design. The members had very detailed requests, particularly Gackt, who was inspired by his favorite movie, The Crow. He wanted the outfit to highlight his beautiful body lines, so while the design is simple, it also needed to allow for movement. Ideally, I would have preferred a stretchy material, but I was determined to use cotton velvet, which has a dark and moody atmosphere, while also creating the effect of gold shining through the darkness.

The cotton velvet, combined with cut velvet, made sitting difficult for Gackt, but when the light hits it, the gold stands out clearly against the black backdrop. The wings, which he was very particular about, were designed in three layers. When closed, they fold up slightly, but when fully opened, they span 4 meters. For live performances, Gackt uses strings to control them, allowing the wings to spread open. The construction is sturdy, with hidden mechanisms for the strings, making the wings quite heavy. The wings were made using about four different patterns, and sequins were added so that when the light hits them, they appear three-dimensional. We used an incredible amount of feathers for the wings as well.

The end

[bookished]

( a collection of jock x nerd dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <3 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"You think you're so smart, huh?" "Well, statistically speaking, my GPA says I am."

"Okay, so you're good at math. But can you explain why my heart races whenever you walk into the room?" "Biologically, I suppose adrenaline might— Wait, are you flirting?"

"This is ridiculous. You shouldn’t be lifting me like that!" "Hey, you’re light as a feather! Besides, I just wanted to show you what strength feels like."

"You know, you’d make a great quarterback with how fast you solve problems." "And you’d make a great nerd if you applied that logic to your studies."

"Let me guess, you failed another test?" "Nah, just looking for an excuse to talk to the smartest person in the room."

"You might be a brainiac, but I could definitely teach you a thing or two about confidence." "Confidence? Or arrogance?"

"I don’t understand why you keep sitting next to me in class. You don't even take notes!" "Maybe I’m here for the view… or maybe I trust your brain to get us both through."

"For someone who’s supposed to be so smart, you’re missing something really obvious." "And what’s that?" leans closer "How bad I want to kiss you right now."

"You’re like a puzzle I can’t solve." "That’s because you’re not thinking hard enough." "Maybe I’m just distracted by how cute the puzzle is."

"You’re too focused. Ever thought about focusing on something… or someone… else?" "And who would that be?" smirks "Maybe you should figure that out."

"Bet I can make you blush before you can solve that equation." "Highly unlikely—" blushes "Told you."

"You're not my type." "And yet, here I am, making you smile like I am."

"You look like you could use a break. How about we grab some coffee? My treat." "You sure you’re not just trying to steal my notes?" "Nah, just trying to steal your attention for a little while."

"If you keep looking this cute when you're annoyed, I might just have to irritate you more often." "You’re infuriating." "But I’m charming, too, right?"

"Do you ever take anything seriously?" "I’m serious about getting you to go out with me. That counts, right?"

"You’ve got those smarts, but I’ve got… other talents." "Like what, being a distraction?" "If that's what it takes to get your attention."

"Why are you always bothering me during study time?" "Because watching you concentrate is kinda… hot."

"You know, you’ve got a lot of facts in that head of yours. Think any of them could explain why I keep thinking about you?" "That’s probably an overproduction of dopamine and— wait, are you hitting on me?"

"You're in my space." "Maybe your space is where I want to be."

"I think I just figured out the formula for attraction." "Attraction isn't a formula." "It is when you're involved."

"You know, if I ever wanted to impress you, I’d have to learn some big words, huh?" "It’s not the words you use that impress me… it’s what you do with them."

[pleucas]

i got a few asks about my process :0 so yea i took some screenshots mid-process of my recent cliff-skk thing just for that

m gonna preface everything by saying that i did have a ref for the environment!! i avoid color dropping from the image and tracing cuz i do want to hone some digital skills. also saying i'm doing an "environment study" when i'm really just drawing skk makes me feel better abt myself

when i don't have a reference, i tend to do some thumbnail sketches in my sketchbook. here's some random stuff of past work, where i rawdogged everything:

but whatever, back to the cliff-skk. i'll also post a timelapse of it for easy ref, but detailed stuff is under the cut :)

first i did some rough sketches on an orangeish background (underpainting etiquette, i find it helps things feel brighter and keep a stable tone when choosing colors to lay on top), and I quickly lined skk :)

then I laid down some flats for the background, again really eyeballing the reference for hues. afterwards i thought it was a bit bright, and i wanted a more sepia/nostalgia feel to it, so i hue adjusted everything to something more uniform

then i lay down flats for skk + the ocean, which i both had to color adjust a lot (you might see that in the timelapse), and then i jump straight into rendering the background. when i render, i always prefer to do it over something lineless, so i turn the sketch layer off. i rarely do lineart for backgrounds.

i also used to render the characters first, but i've found that it's just not a great approach—especially for art where characters and background are interacting, knowing the hues and shades of the environment is crucial to effective rendering on the character that doesn't make them look out of place.

when i'm rendering, i really try to keep in mind tenants of contrast, perspective, form, and light/shadow. ex, stuff "closer" to us has more detail; the hill in the back is minimalist (in comparison); the shadows lean cool-green while the light leans gray-yellow. rake brushes really carried me here idk... my fav brushstyle forever

eventually i reach a point where i'm satisfied (or bored) with the background. for the last stages i usually have the subjects hidden so i can really perfect the details—but then for super duper final details, like the little leaf specks and grass strands, i unhid skk so the poppy details could work around skk. then i get to rendering the characters :)

i forgot to take ss of all the stages when i rendered skk, but here's something from... about the middle of the process? i tend to render characters with the lineart hidden as well, sometimes bringing it back just to clarify things, but ultimately i prefer to define things by form than by line. that's just me tho idk, idt it makes or breaks anything, just a preference

again rlly just thinking about cool/warm, reflective tones (the greenish shadow on chuuya's left inner leg, sky-gray blue on dazai's vest), really just slotting the subject into the environment. after i finish rendering the characters, i usually return to the background and add some stuff—in this one i defined the waves a bit and put some grass around skk

and yeah then we're done idk LOL. sometimes i run the file through camera raw (photoshop) to do some color adjustments—i find that my iPad displays colors super differently, usually making things a lot lighter than they are (u can see how dark the timelapse is...), so i find myself lightening my work a lot. i also sharpen and add noise as needed :)

i think my process has changed a lotttt even in this past year. it's kinda crazy!! it's always fun to do these and just reflect a bit on how i work. mostly just mindless insanity until it kinda works.

thanks for sending in an ask. and if u read all that, thanks to u too lolol

[hyuckiefluff]

Hey so I hv request! Really love the way you write♡ ok so mark is on adrenaline high frm the concert and is really touch starved and really just wants to fuck his gf! Established realtionship y/n and Mark, feel free to add your magic, thank you!!!

a/n: thank u for the nice words and for sending in this req!! this is exactly what i needed to get back into the mood cuz i’ve (once again) been neglecting my writing lol but anyway when i read this the first thing i thought of was quiet down hence the pic :)

ps: requests are still open btw (still got a lot of them to go through but feel free to send in more) i usually do them in order of which one inspires me the most so even if you send rn i might get to it first!

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

content warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, slight choking, brief mention of blood, mark is sex starved so he goes a bit crazy, ass groping, handjob (m. receiving), cum eating yeah ik ik i keep writing this but i can’t stop sawry, big c0ck mark!! barely any prep or aftercare (they don’t have time!!!) basically just a messy & needy quickie backstage.

masterlist

Mark was losing his mind. 

Why?

All because you placed him on a week-long sex ban in an attempt to prepare him for the upcoming tour. He knew you were just trying to help him adjust to being away from you, but it felt like torture.

Everything was fine at first, or at least Mark was doing a great job pretending. But as the first week neared its end, his resolve started to crumble. Today, in particular, he was extremely horny for no reason.

...Well, he actually did have a reason and it was the picture you sent him this morning, wearing the new underwear he had gifted you  'They fit perfectly, Markie ;)'.

And as if that wasn’t enough, you showed up to his show wearing his favorite skirt—the very one you knew he always fucked you in. He wasn't sure if he was just thinking with his dick, but it felt like you were trying to push him to his limit.

Either way, it was definitely working, because when you leaned in for a kiss, he caught a glimpse of your underwear in the mirror's reflection and and he had to fight against every part of himself to not moan right then.

To make matters worse, you were still wearing the black lace panties he had gifted you.

By the time he stepped on stage, he was already painfully hard. What kind of pervert gets turned on in front of an audience just because his girlfriend accidentally flashed him? Well, apparently, Mark Lee did.

But he didn't care about looking like a desperate, sex-starved fool. 

So as soon as the VCR started playing and they had to change outfits, he made a beeline for you backstage. Ignoring the protests of staff and confused band members telling him he only had 10 minutes to get ready he grabbed your arm and pulled you through the crowd.

“That’s more than enough time,” he muttered under his breath. Despite your persistent attempts to ask where he was taking you, Mark didn’t stop until you were hidden away in a dark, secluded corner behind the stage.

"Mark, what's going on? Are you okay?" You inspected him with concern in your eyes, checking for any injuries.

"Ah...fuck... I have a really big problem," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" But you quickly understood the issue when he pulled up his shirt, revealing the growing bulge in his pants.

You tried not to laugh, but the way he looked like a child in need of help was too endearing. "Aw, did I do this to you?"

"It's not funny," he protested, suddenly invading your personal space. "I need you to fix it." His forehead pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your sides and gripping your hips to press you firmly against his body, your lower abdomen coming in contact with his hard on.

"Of course, baby" you replied, ready to kneel down, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm. You looked at him confused, and the stage lights cast an angle that highlighted his pleading eyes. They were glossy with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured, his voice strained and raspy.

The idea of having backstage sex at his concert with just about seven minutes left before he had to return to the stage felt crazy. But there was something about it that turned you on beyond explanation.

So, you cupped his face and kissed him hard enough that your teeth clashed with his lips, but not even the slight taste of blood stopped you from devouring each other’s mouth. Mark quickly matched your intensity, his tongue wasting no time exploring every corner of your mouth. Every time he nibbled on your lips, it elicited little gasps from you. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, pressing you firmly against his bulge, a clear reminder that he was about to explode down there.

You started to undo his pants, the friction of his erection against the fabric made him suck in air through his teeth. He broke away from your lips, allowing you to pull down his pants. His boxers were already stained with pre-cum, and when you lowered them, his dick looked at you flushed and angry. You bit your lip, his size always made you clench your thighs in anticipation.

Before you could even touch him, he turned you around and that’s when you realized you were pressed against one of the glass boxes from their performance.

"Mark..." you moaned his name when you felt the tip of his dick at your entrance. There was no time for much preparation so when he slowly pushed his hips forward, a string of curses left his lips at the tightness.

"Fuuuck..." he groaned when your walls clenched around him relentlessly. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you leaned against the box for support

“God, you feel so good” His hands gripped your hips, and you felt his lips kissing your shoulder before he whispered that he was going to start moving. You nodded weakly.

His pace started out slow, but there was an undeniable urgency in each motion. His hand moved from your hips to your neck, gripping you softly and pulling you closer with every deep thrust. His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, and with every kiss and nibble, you couldn't help but clench around him, making his hand close tighter against your throat. This pattern continued for a while, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Please..." you whimpered, and he grunted softly against your neck.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked.

"More, please, I need more," you moaned, feeling his grin against your neck.

He wasted no time. His thrusts quickened, and you couldn't help but release soft gasps and moans with each movement. You leaned forward against the box, your breath fogging up the glass, feeling it tremble beneath you as he continued fucking into you harder. Mark was losing himself, or perhaps he already had; he was rutting against you as if he was an animal in heat.

"M-mark... I'm close," you mewled, not sure if he even heard you amidst the loud cheers.

"Mhm, me too," he moaned, his voice strained. 

It only took a few more thrusts and you were spent, moaning and mumbling incoherently as he helped you ride your orgasm.

 "Fuck, it's gonna be messy if I cum inside you," he realized, slowing his movements.

He was right… he wasn't wearing a condom so as soon as he pulled out, it would definitely drip down your legs. And there wasn’t anything nearby to clean you up with.

"Pull out," you said, and you could see his confusion from the corner of your eye. Nonetheless, he did as told. His hand was already on his dick, ready to take care of himself, but when you knelt down, it was as if his body glitched momentarily.

Your hands replaced his, applying just the right amount of pressure in your strokes to evoke that familiar sensation building in his gut. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your makeup slightly smudged from tears and sweat. The sight was incredibly hot, and just when he was about to cum, you opened your mouth, catching all of his release. Some of it trickled down your throat. The whole scene, along with the sounds you made while swallowing, had Mark almost in tears from the sheer intensity of the moment.

After swallowing every drop, you stood up, adjusting your panties and casually licking a remnant from the corner of your lips, all while maintaining eye contact with Mark. He watched you in stunned silence, still catching his breath. You chuckled when he remained frozen for a good 10 seconds, pulling him close gently and zipping up his pants. In that moment, you heard his voice.

“Please come on tour with me,” he begged, his eyes wide with hope. You just smiled and kissed him.

“Where’s Mark?! You guys are up in 2 minutes!” The staff's frantic shouts pulled you both back to reality. You exchanged a glance and burst into giggles like a pair of teenagers.

i think i might be shadowbanned guys so interact with this post if u enjoyed it pls &lt;3

[izvmimi]

“Thank you for always being so understanding about all of this,” Izuku says between spoonfuls of soup. You look up from your own bowl, then around; Inko has stepped out of the room to use the restroom, and the two of you remain facing each other at dinner.

Tenko hasn’t joined the three of you tonight, citing “other plans”, but you have the impression that nerves have gotten to him finally and Izuku agrees with your assessment. The thought of Tenko, once Shigaraki, being nervous about how the general public will receive him feels somewhat ridiculous, but it is a very fair thing to be worried about given the circumstances.

After all, it’s only been 5 years since the meta war, and even if he’s proven himself to Midoriya and the Hero Commission, he has no guarantee going public in this matter will be well received, even if Deku will be by his side, promising emphatically and empathetically in his own very Deku way to stop him again if things get awry, and the people believe in their Symbol of Hope.

Yet, what Izuku is referencing is something unrelated completely. His hand reaches over the table to cover yours gently, and he smiles warmly at you, and in that look, you remember how happy he was to see you from his hospital bed, adjusting a few flowers and cards on the counters before being startled by the sound of his voice. He was happy to see you intact, safe, despite having gotten precariously close to the main fight. 

Izuku remembers your body moments away from disintegration every so often, the expected turn in his stomach not lessening over the years, and often wonders why you’ve managed to forgive Tenko the way you have, allowing him to crash on your apartment sofa and eat up all your snacks, and to permeate daily conversations between the two of you.

But you, like the people will during the press conference tomorrow, believe in his ability to be good.

Your lips part slightly with the touch as though you were to say something in surprise, but you choose not to, smiling instead, using your other hand to finish your soup. 

The words I trust you and I have hope, are left unsaid.

—

The cameras don’t stop flashing but Deku and Entropy continue to face the cameras politely, smiles matching, Entropy’s not as wide but still warm. The dreaded tomato isn’t tossed at his face and while there are a few insults hurled from the back of the crowd, understandably, they’re easily drowned out by the cheers of support.

The two young men both pledge to keep the city safe.

The trial period of their partnership will be for about a year before they’ll eventually act independently, and while it seems like a sensible idea upfront, you and Izuku find out that the netizens have quite a lot to say about it.

Parole officer Deku…

They’re really running out of new concepts, aren’t they?

Do you think I could turn him back? He might have been sexier before…

That last comment has 200+ replies and you pore through them on your phone while Tenko returns with four iced beverages, three of them coffee and the fourth a lemonade with an alarming amount of caffeine in them. Sparkles eyes his drink, while accepting her latte from him, then shakes her head.

“You know those kill people, right?”

Tenko blinks for a moment, then shrugs before putting the straw in his mouth. 

“I mean…” you pipe up and Izuku gives you a look to warn you not to make the joke you want so desperately to make, and you press a finger to your own mouth coyly.

Sparkles figures out where you were about to go in that sentence and kicks your leg under the table. Tenko sips on his drink and says nothing.

“You guys looked great out there,” you say, instead. “I would definitely trust my life to you both,” you add and Sparkles nods enthusiastically. You watch her pat his shoulder gently, then catch herself, pretending she was wiping off a bit of lint.

You’ll send her a text reminding her she doesn’t need to pretend that he wasn’t with her last night in a couple minutes, but for now you let the two newly partnered pros give their own press conference perspective.

There are many new books to be written and you wonder which page you’ll turn first.