#just wanted to see if anyone had some input
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monstergili · 3 days ago
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When you really think about the whole universal translator in speculative fiction, it doesn't really work considering all the questions you've brought up. It feels like there is this expectation that it should be just translated easily into one language; often in English for a person with no hearing disabilities and no problems during the process. Compared to how real languages work, it can be so complicated; some languages are not commonly spoken, with some languages being quite hard to translate. A few languages are rare due to how few people speak the language fluently. Even if you managed to have a large library of languages available, how easy is it to translate one into another? I'm no linguist, but even I know that not every word can be easy translated into another language. Translations can lacks the nuance of a particular word or phrase because the translation tries simplifying it to be more understandable, losing that nuance in the process. That's not even covering the ever changing use of slang; with words changing meaning, new ones being invented or phased out for new ones. Would you have a big enough library for the various slang used across the world and beyond?
I don't think I've really seen anyone even take into consideration how sign language would be used for the universal translator. Sign Language differs across the world, use different signs for particular words, which could have different meaning in another sign language if applicable at all. Some verbal languages might not even have their own sign language available so it might be even harder to translate because you could be jumping through two other languages first before being translated into a language you know. If they tried making you still see the speaker when you're looking away, it would likely be disorienting, possibly leading to headaches from the sensation. It could possibly lead to minor accidents from the different inputs given to the user. Never mind if the sign language of another species requires more than one pair of hands; how do translate THAT?!
The Universal Translator usually doesn't take non-humanoid anatomy into consideration on how it would impact language. In most mainstream Sci-Fi settings, humanoid aliens are the norm for sapient species. In the Mass Effect games, I know one alien species had to verbalize what they're feeling when talking because their use of pheromones couldn't be translated for the other inhabitants. Another species were basically space jellyfish that used a translator to verbalize language, based on their bioluminesce. (Looking back, I think there was a missed to opportunity to use chromatophores to create a complex language that was also hard to translate.)
I know that not everyone is interested in conlanging or trying to write multiple IRL languages. It's hard to conlang or translate languages, especially if said language is notoriously difficult to speak/read. I don't blame people using universal translators as an easy workaround for plot convenience. Yet I do feel like that it can be a little too easy to use for every setting you make. This is why I like how @jayrockin handles languages in their Runaway To The Stars universe. I'd recommend checking out their work if you want more interesting and grounded way of handling alien languages. It even includes sign language.
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how do science fiction real-time universal translators (the type where people automatically perceive everything as being in their native language as it's being spoken) handle sign languages. does it alter the perception of native sign language speakers so it looks to them like people using spoken language are actually signing? for that matter, would it "translate" written language into a spoken form for someone who natively speaks a spoken-only language?
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shaky-b0n3s · 3 days ago
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A long ass rant abt my Roger being autistic headcannon cuz i haven't seen anyone talk about the idea of him being autistic besides 1 person (who i mention and quote on this post) 💔
Remember that not all autistic people act the way he does or show the same symptoms autism is a wide spectrum that can affect all sorts of people and can make people act in many different ways. Some autistic people are loud and outgoing, and some may be quiet and anxious. Please also don't use this to say you might have autism this is just how i see his character and shouldn't be used to diagnose yourself or others i am not a professional and this is just my opinion so take this with a grain of salt!! You also don't have to agree with me. This is just my version of the character!
Roger is described to be more on the quiet side and doesn't really seem to communicate with the other boys much. He is even described to be 'forgettable' in the book for example when him, Jack, and Ralph go to check out the 'beast'/parachuter in chapter 7 'Shadows and tall trees' when it says "Roger spoke; they jumped, for they had forgotten him." And is also described as "uncommunicative by nature" and "impervious" in the same chapter. Throughout the book, he is described as quiet, uncommunative, furtive, and even intimidating. Which yes, not everyone who is that way is autistic it is pretty common for autistic people to come off that way. He comes off as someone who presents more monotone, secretive, and seems to avoid attention as much as possible.
Roger, in my opinion, also seems to not be the best at communicating and understanding social cues. He doesn't engage in the same behavior as the rest of the boys, and through the book, his behavior is displayed differently in a noticeable way if that makes sense. He just doesn't really seem to notice (or at least care) that he acts/comes off differently then they do.
Another thing is that he's said to have an insensitivity to him and has a strong focus on his thoughts and opinions on things, which is another common trait in people with autism
His lack of empathy for others is another thing to note. A lot of people with autism can often be seen as apathetic or rude because they don't fully understand how others feel or how some of their actions could make a person feel. While his lack of empathy could be a sign of some other disorder, i do think it could at least partially be related to this.
Roger's need to control his environment and the way he seems to listen to whoevers 'in charge' of him so easily could also be related to the fact that a lot of autistic people desire a feeling of structure and predictability. He listens to what he's told to do and usually tends to fly under the radar because of it. He's shown to have some sort of need for control but at the same time doesn't seem to have any want or need to actually be cheif in any way because he pefers to have that sense of structure and have intrusions on what to do.
I have only seen 1 person talk about Roger possibly being autistic/nerodivergent on a reddit post from the uer "Nitekatgames2023" that popped up on google when i was trying to find more input on this idea and i find their veiw on Rogers actions possibly not being to outwardly hurt others but rather deal with the stress of possibly being nerodivergent to be really interesting here's a bit of what was said on that post: "Roger excels at being Jack Merridew’s enforcer because of his willingness and ability to follow authority figures. “Pure evil” characters are seen breaking social rules or disregarding people/ laws from very young ages and their incapacity for adjusting behavior when committing “evil acts” (crimes, misbehavior, physical altercations). Roger can function in a well-functioning society as seen by his previous post as choirboy and his initial interactions with the other boys. There is agreement in numerous analyses of “Lord of the Flies” that Roger has been taught to mask his impulses but I will argue that his impulses are not to directly harm others but rather a need to cope with stressful situations due to a potential neurodivergence" i think this look on his character is pretty interesting and i like their veiw on this a lot.
Heres some more stuff the person said on the post that i found really interesting that i want to share "Roger mirrors whatever authority is dominant. At first, he is obedient to rules from English society because that is how he has been conditioned to behave. This transfers to following Ralph hence his helpful demeanor, and then transitions once again to Jack where he becomes his most brutal. Roger has a tendency to say or do what the other boys may say they want to do or what they may be collectively thinking such as suggesting the vote or “quieting” Piggy's arguments or being at the front of the pig hunt or at the front of the mob that kills Simon." As well as (sorry this quote from the post is quite long) "Golding puts the least amount of perspective on Roger and most of that perspective boils down to, “thinking about irresponsible authority” or “time to be the most evil person possible” but the deriving pleasure part is an interesting aspect. This is due to people’s reactions to Roger’s actions. In most stories, the brutal second in command thrives off of loudness, but not Roger. His violent acts seem to disrupt loud commotions especially. In the first gathering with everyone, Roger’s interruption of holding a vote causes the boys to settle down. This trend continues with Roger and another choirboy disrupting the loud playing of the littluns on the beach building their sandcastles. Finally, during the loud confrontation with Piggy and the rest of the tribal boys on Castle Rock (where the stone material is most likely echoing all the noise and the waves are loudly crashing underneath), Roger sends a boulder down to kill Piggy which quiets everyone. Some people with neurodivergence have aversions to unpleasant stimuli such as loud noises. This can make people with neurodivergences feel uncomfortable, irritable, or on edge. Extreme reactions to these can manifest in self or other destructive ways (may be called meltdowns or something else). Of course, this does not excuse criminal or immoral behavior but it could explain part of Roger’s drastic reactions to these events."
That's all i have to say for now about this, i love this headcannon for him so much. If anyone wants to talk about this or of you have any other commentary on Roger's character i am completely open to talking eother in the comments or in dms don't be afraid of annoying me because as you can see i am absolutely obsessed with pucking all the characters actions and behaviors apart 💔💔
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silicon-puppy-pudding · 11 months ago
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Creative Help? Mayhaps??DpXDC
So once upon a time I was a little shit that wanted to be cool and I made a "guardian of the woods" type species I called the Custos. They're like big wolf-deer things with masks. Ever since I would occasionally doodle different Custos for my friends and for characters I like.
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So, of course, with my current obsession, I had to make one for Danny and Jason cuz I'm mentally ill ❤👻💚.
The thing is I don't know how to design their masks. The masks aren't super symbolic but do represent some character. Like a more uptight, smart, and "intelligent" Custos might have a more symmetrical, and/or angular pattern, while a lazy, more layed back and sleepy Custos would have less harsh details and not so complex patterns. The masks are ment to be a thing one makes for themselves once they are "of age" and are added to and altered through their lives.
I was hoping, since this weird little(?) fandom is so creative and willing to share with ideas, that maybe one (or some👀) of yall could help??
If yall want more info on Custos I can make another post about them but maybe later (it's like 2 in the morning here)
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pumpkinrootbeer · 1 year ago
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ogfoofodoxx thinking about how the most defining character trait of haymitch is how protective he is. not in the sense it's the most obvious, but how all of his actions are fueled by this desire to protect. how hard he works at keeping katniss alive in the first games, him fighting to keep them from augmenting katniss's body, him yelling at plutarch to keep finnick from having to share his trauma, him being so involved in peeta's recovery and being the one to bring katniss home. him holding mayslee's hand as she died, fighting for plutarch to stay and rescue peeta, being the one to find katniss and finnick when johanna had an episode, begging coin to believe peeta's warning. it being heavily implied or either outright stated that he was one of the people who fought to protect effie.
makes me physically ill because no one does that for him. everyone who would of, died.
#DIES EXPLODES COMBUSTS#thg#haymitch abernathy#:v#haymitch acting like he doesn't care about anyone when he actually cares about everyone#he's acting like he's winning the idgaf war but love has disarmed him completely.#Tbc katniss and peeta would but they are literally incapable of being that for him. bc they are infant#also thinking about how we get this sense that while he has some modicum of power with the revolution his sway only goes so far#which is to say not far at all#the times we actually see what the negotiating process is like for him he has to beg coin to listen to him#and he says Plutarch didn't listen to him between cf and mockingjay when he tried to get them to stay for peeta#I just get this sense that most of the time he's in the room but isn't really allowed to make decisions#and constantly has to fight to be heard#I mean again I will always circle back to this they literally locked him in a room to detox#and the descriptions we get in cf is his withdrawal symptoms are incredibly severe#so clearly they weren't dependent on his imput#idk idk I just get this sense they valued his input up until the point he reminded them all he still views people as people.#him coaching katniss was to say in mockingjay during her speech in two also makes me chew drywall#how much of that is what he thought she needed to say to stay alive and how much is what he had always wanted to say#also thinking about how he wasn't lying when he told Plutarch he couldn't go back to twelve sober.#bc he gets katniss home and then immediately gets blackout drunk#I am of the opinion that he genuinely can't get sober while living in 12#I like to think he lets himself leave eventually never to the capitol of course but in my hc he goes to 11#just bc of his fondness for chaff and seeder but that's just a self indulgent headcanon#ALSO ALSO.#thinking about how he's fighting a revolution that he doesn't even believe will bring chance#well. he thinks it'll change things but that change will be temporary and fighting will break out again#my perfect pessimist idiot. in my heart of hearts he gets a therapist moves and actually recovers
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newmoonlover009 · 3 months ago
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Distracted - Charlie Swan
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“Just kiss me.”
Charlie Swan x Fem!Reader
Summary - Bella tasks you to keep Charlie distracted as she battles her new "sickness." You do as she says. In more ways than one.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: 18+, sexual content, age gap (reader is 23), lying, subtle angst, quickie, fast-paced, kissing, slight grinding/dry humping, neck kissing, unprotected piv sex, a bit of cock warming, cream pie, the use of the words "cunt" and "cock," and the pet name "baby."
(Let me know if I missed any.)
Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes. Twilight au—details won’t be accurate to the films or books—they are rewritten to fit the story.
a/n - yippee, my first post on my multi-fandom account. In all honesty, I did not proofread this one shot as thoroughly as I usually do. So, apologies in advance if it seems rushed. Enjoy <3
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Truth be told, you know of Bella’s… “condition.” 
Why she entrusts you with her secret—you don’t know. You’ve only known Bella briefly, having moved to Forks just a year before her return. When word spread that she’d be coming home, Charlie asked you personally to become her friend—a mentor of sorts, even. With long hours at the station, Charlie didn’t have the time to hover, even when he really wanted to. 
Bella liked to think Charlie didn’t hover, but he did. Even now. 
“Good morning, Chief Swan!” You yelled from your porch, greeting the Chief like you did every chance you got. The two of you had been neighbors for quite some time now since you moved in right across the street into the smallest house in the neighborhood with your mom.
“Mornin’.” Charlie’s gruff voice carried across the street. Usually, he’d disappear into his lonesome house, and only leave when he was called to the station. This time, however, he paused at his door in thought. You watched curiously as he turned around, immediately locking eyes with you, and cautiously approaching your quaint porch. 
“I hear your daughter is coming to town, Chief. That’s big news.” You offered conversation, still curious as to why he was purposely approaching you. Charlie was a kind man, and sometimes even friendly to outsiders, but he was still closed off. Perhaps it was your age that prompted him to maintain his distance—two decades is a large difference. Younger people probably freaked him out, you figured. 
“Yeah, I’m real excited.” Though, his unenthusiastic tone said otherwise. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.”
“Oh, okay.” You remained an open mind, waiting for an elaboration of sorts. “What about?”
“In all honesty, I need you to do me a favor.” His tone was serious, not asking, but rather telling. You would’ve agreed either way. 
“Of course, what’s up?” It seemed as though he struggled to find the words to ask, his brows furrowed as he thought intently. 
“Bella hasn’t lived here since, well, a long time. She visits, sure, but other than that, she doesn’t know anyone here.” That didn’t surprise you, especially since you hadn’t seen her once since living there. What he said next, however, did surprise you. “I need you to keep an eye on her for me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re close in age, right? Maybe you can provide some… input in her life that I can’t.” Well, not quite close in age. She was 17. You were 21. 
“Oh, Chief Swan, I—”
“Charlie.” He corrected you.
“Charlie.” You repeated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Bella doesn’t know me, and quite frankly, I don’t know her. You do, though.” 
“Please?” He looked defeated—embarrassed that he had to enlist the help of his neighbor to welcome his teenage daughter. After seeing the silently begging look on his face, you couldn’t say no.
So, when she called you once the plane landed, returning from her short-lived honeymoon with Edward, your vision blurred and hearing rang as she whimpered the words “vampire” and “pregnant.” She informed you that tensions were high between the Cullens; debating whether she should keep it or… “get rid of it.” Alice, Edward, and Jacob strongly advocated for the latter. You, however, only knew that Bella needed a friend.
It kills you to keep a secret of this magnitude from Charlie—who’s been pacing back and forth since you arrived. Bella asked you to keep an eye on him—a trend in the Swan family, it seems—and to keep him distracted so he wouldn’t drive to the Cullen house himself and demand answers. 
“Charlie, please—”
“What do you mean I can’t see her? Is she okay?” His tone is frantic; worried. 
“She’s fine. She just contracted a virus and didn’t want to worry you. Clearly, it’s not working.”
“So why can’t she call me? Why are you the one telling me?” Because he’ll know something is wrong by the sound of her voice. 
“Because she wanted the information given in person. She thought you deserved more than a phone call.” You deserve the truth, you think to yourself, but you’ve made a promise to Bella.
“Where’s this medical facility? I’ll go there myself–” There is no medical facility. She’s shacked up at the Cullen house just miles away. 
“No, Charlie, you can’t. She didn’t even tell me, so there’s no way of you knowing.” You hate how the lies roll off your tongue with ease. He huffs in frustration at your answer, finally taking a seat on the couch while you stand just feet away in front of the television. Sorrow settles like a brick in your gut, so you sit in the empty spot just beside him, your hand landing on his shoulder to offer support. “I’m really sorry, Charlie, but you know she’s in the best hands. Edward–or Carlisle–won’t let anything bad happen to her.” 
“I know…” His voice trails off, uncertainty clear in his tone. He knows you’re right, but you also know that the protective dad in him can’t sit idly by. Your heart aches to see the way his eyes glaze over, his brows in a perpetual frown since Bella left for her honeymoon. The poor man hasn’t been the same since the wedding. 
His house is empty again and his routine has fallen back into what it was before she came home; working every chance he gets and ordering takeout every night. His incessant sullen gaze has returned; his eyes are no longer softer like they were when Bella was here. You feel her absence as well. The house is eerily quiet–colder than usual–and the smaller things that accumulated in their shared spaces have been packed away and moved. Alice took the liberty of packing Bella’s things. 
Your relationship–or rather acquaintance–with Charlie has nearly withered since her departure. There’s no need to speak to him unless it’s to relay a message, like the unfortunate one you’re delivering now. Still, you greet him with a good morning, afternoon, and evening when you see him; which is rare. You quite enjoyed being a part of Charlie’s life, even if it was through Bella, and you felt as though you had finally cracked the man who would hardly speak to you since you moved in. 
“She’ll be okay. I promise.” It’s a stupid promise to make when you’re unsure of the outcome yourself. 
“I guess you’re right.” He lets out a heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his face falling into his hands. 
You gently nod to yourself, taking that as your sign to leave. You’ve done all that you can at the moment; told him of Bella’s “sickness,” given him peace of mind, and ensured that he wouldn’t attempt to see her in person. All things Bella instructed you to do. You feel terrible knowing Charlie’s original plan was for you to watch over Bella, and now it’s been completely flipped in the opposite direction. 
“I should get going.” You announce, patting his shoulder and grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else from her.”
Charlie nods, his warm eyes finding yours. He lifts himself from the couch with a gentle huff and stands to walk you to the door, as he always does. As you mirror his movements, the two of you face each other, subtle awkwardness creeping into the space between you. He’s decently taller than you, forcing your head to tilt back as you match his gaze. His eyes are masking a million different emotions, just screaming to be let out, so you provide the only form of comfort you can think of. Lifting your arms from your sides to reach toward him, his watchful eyes observe your actions as you lazily wrap them around his waist. 
His body freezes, stunned by your affection, as you rest your head against his broad chest. Your cheek lays against his cotton T-shirt, saturated in his warm scent—woodsy, cinnamon, and smoky–as if he had just built a fire to combat the slowly approaching frost. A beat passes before you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, his head craning down to rest his scruffed cheek on the top of your head. His heart is pounding in his chest, the muffled sound knocking against your ear. As if to absorb his hurt, you hug him more firmly, your hands interlocking behind him as you adjust your grip. 
“Thank you for coming over.” His defeated voice finally speaks above you, and a hand soothingly rubs your shoulder. “It was nice seeing you again.” 
The feeling's mutual. The last real conversation you had with him was the wedding night. It hurt your feelings a bit; further confirming that Charlie was only interested in talking to you about Bella, nothing more. Sure, that was the deal, but you had hoped for more. Whatever “more” was, you still aren’t sure.
“Of course.” You breathe out, leaning back to look up at him, your arms still wrapped around him. “I hope to see you again soon. Under better circumstances.” 
“Me too.” He lets out a defeated chuckle, the humor absent. “Let me walk you out.”
Although, neither of you moves. His hands stay spread on the expanse of your back as his conflicted gaze bores into yours. An unspoken magnetic pull lures you to him, his eyes locking yours in a curious trance. Your stomach flips when he swiftly leans in, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. Mere milliseconds pass before his lips are ripped away; just as quickly as they had come. 
Your eyes widen and the grip you have on him releases as you take a precautionary step back. Jaw falling slack, your lips part in utter shock, and your eyes blink rapidly as if you’re in a haze. Your face has surely turned crimson, the heat creeping up your neck and settling in the peaks of your cheeks. The look on his face, however, is just as shocked as you are–like he couldn’t believe he did that. He looks… ashamed. It’s almost visible on his face–the way his thoughts race–his voice catching in his throat as if to offer an explanation. 
“Charlie…” 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–” 
“Kiss me again.” You rush out, “Please.”
“Are you sure–”
“Just kiss me.” You nearly groan. Unable to wait a moment longer, you step forward to close the short distance between you two, your arms finding their way around his neck and feet standing on their tippy-toes. Your lips crash onto his, your eyes fluttering close as his hands snake around your waist, desperately gripping at your clothed skin. A low hum purrs from his throat while he deepens the kiss, dipping his head lower to accommodate you and satisfy his fast-growing hunger. His mustache and the stubble on his chin rub against you, adding to the pleasurable sensation pooling in your gut. 
This was not what you intended when you were tasked with keeping him distracted, but you can’t find a part of you willing to stop. Not when he pulls you in closer by the waist, his fingers digging deeper into your heated flesh, grasping at you so you can’t pull away–like you ever would.
Taking the initiative, your tongue darts from your parted lips, swiping along his bottom lip and eliciting a groan from Charlie. The sound is like music to your ears, only fueling you further when your hands find his loose waves, gripping gently and tugging at the roots. Following your lead, his tongue combats yours, invading your senses with his taste, his smell, him. 
Without breaking the persisting kiss, Charlie moves you both and pulls you with him as he lands on the couch in a seated position. Instinctually, your legs straddle him–your skirt lifting and bunching at your hips–and you finally lean away from him to catch your breath, your chest heaving in response. Through parted lips, Charlie lets out quick huffs, his back slowly leaning against the couch to allow his eyes to rake over your appearance; flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and hooded eyes that silently beg for more. 
The sight of him is ungodly; sitting man-spread, hands now lazily resting against your hips, and eyes that flood with lust–the chocolatey irises being swallowed by dilated pupils. You need more of him.
Slouching slightly, you lean into him as your lips connect with his neck, leaving sloppy open-mouth kisses along the sensitive skin. His head tilts to the side to grant better access as a strained noise collects on the tip of his tongue. Your hips absently move against him and a surprised sound comes from you when the bulge of his jeans lines up with your aching core. The dull sensation urges you to seek more friction, making Charlie’s hands grip your hips to assist in your efforts. 
Soft, satisfied sighs brush past your lips as you continue your work on his exposed neck, pulling small grunts from him and subtle jerks of his hips. 
“Are you sure you want this?” His drawn voice calls to you, letting you know you can stop while you’re ahead. The thing is, you don’t want to. 
“So sure.” You mumble against his skin. “Are you?” Asking sincerely, you stop what you’re doing to catch his gaze.
He only nods, his eyes darting to your lips and hands absently squeezing, encouraging you to continue. Slowly, you roll your hips against him, building the previous friction back up. The feeling is deliciously teasing, only reaching a certain level of fulfillment before it becomes unbearable. You hold his line of sight, watching as his face gently contorts into a frustrated frown, needing more as much as you do. His brows furrow, creasing the skin between them, and a low grumble gathers in his chest as his legs shift restlessly beneath you.
Releasing your grip from his hair, your hands lay flat as they palm at his shoulders, spread across his chest, and travel down his abdomen, pausing just above the waistband of his jeans. You halt your hip movements, letting your fingers tease at the zipper before asking, “Can I?”
“Please.” 
It’s the only word he can muster before you undo the zipper at a tantalizing pace, the soft noise only adding to the fluttering feeling gathering in your lower belly. You quickly unfasten the jeans button, folding the rough denim fabric over to expose his boxers beneath. His jaw clenches when you tug the waistband of his jeans down just enough to reach into the stretchy material and firmly grip him. His stomach visibly tightens through his shirt, a low grunt exiting with a shaky breath as you free his hardened cock. Impressive.
Your closed fist works up and down his length a few times, admiring the way precum leaks from the reddened tip, pouring over onto your hand. Charlie struggles to show restraint as his hips shift upward to match your rhythm. You’re eager as well, feeling wetness gather and soak into the cotton fabric of your underwear. 
Impatience gets the better of you when you release him, smirking at the sound of protest from him as your hands find the bottom hem of your skirt and tug the clothing item upward to gather around your waist. His mouth clamps shut when your soaked underwear comes into view, exposing the absolute arousal he elicits from you. Usually, you’d opt for more foreplay, but you need him–you need him now. 
Unwilling to waste time, you pull your underwear to the side, using your other hand to grasp Charlie once more. With a little maneuvering, you scoot closer to him, lifting yourself slightly to align him with your cunt. He sucks in a sharp breath when you run the tip through your velvety folds, gathering every ounce of arousal before stopping at your dripping entrance. 
Slowly, you lower yourself, allowing your hips to sink onto him and inch his way into you. Neither of you dares to breathe as your walls stretch around him, welcoming him and swallowing every inch until you’ve sunken completely. Both of you gasp–for air, and because of the way his cock twitches and your walls squeeze around him. He’s filled you entirely and you bite back the moan that begs to release. Without even moving, the feeling itself is euphoric. 
“I need a minute.” He admits, his voice gravelly and forcing self-control.
“Me too.” You breathe out, your hands resting against his waist for support. 
Staying put, you lean forward, capturing his lips in a leisurely kiss. The moments leading up to this one have gone by in a blur, having happened so fast. You savor him, enjoying the way he can’t control the soft groans you swallow as your lips work against his, your walls pulsing in response. 
Your hands travel from below you, your fingertips ghosting over his lower stomach, his ribs, and his chest before settling on the sides of his face. His stubble scratches the surface of your palms as you deepen the kiss, humming in satisfaction when he invades your mouth with his tongue. Growing impatient, you feel Charlie’s hands grip tighter, urging you to lift your hips. 
The kiss is unbreaking as you follow his lead, letting him raise your hips and pull you back down onto his length. You moan into his mouth as he repeats this action a few more times before you decide to take over. Heavy breaths blow through his nose as you speed up, creating a steady rhythm that satisfies the both of you. You’re unsure how long you’ll last given the coil that’s been wound up tight since grinding against him fully clothed, which technically, you still are.
With your breath picking up, you break the kiss to focus solely on lifting and lowering your hips. The pace is growing quicker, and you notice Charlie’s hips moving to match your efforts. Resting your forehead against his, you lock eyes as you allow an uncontrollable string of moans to push past your plump lips, your eyebrows scrunching in pure pleasure. 
“I’m so close.” You confess, feeling your walls flutter around him in that familiar rhythmic pattern. 
“Keep going, baby.” His encouragement and use of the pet name through clenched teeth signals that his climax is nearing as well. 
Preserving energy and seeking release, you grind your hips instead, and you nearly cry out when your swollen clit rubs against him. It’s enough to bring you to the edge, your climax teetering and waiting to be pushed over. With a few more passes of your grinding hips, it doesn’t take long, and your head flies back to let out a drawn-out moan. 
“Oh god, Charlie.” Your voice points to the ceiling as your eyes squeeze shut, your hips sputtering against him. Your cunt pulses frantically around him as you continue your movements, riding out your crashing orgasm and urging Charlie to do the same. 
From the force of your climax, Charlie isn’t far behind. His name leaves your lips in an exasperated whimper, being repeated like a mantra. When your head falls forward, and your spent stare captures his, it’s enough to send him over the edge. With a choked groan, you feel his cock twitch inside you, coating your walls with hot cum as he stares deeply into you. Determined to wring out his orgasm, your hips move languidly despite the overwhelming sensation it creates for you, watching as his stomach flexes sporadically. 
He lets out a choked noise when he’s finished, the grip on your hips loosening and prompting you to slow to a stop. The mixture of your releases drips out of you, pooling at the base of his cock. Both of you breathe heavily, your chests heaving in harmony as your eyes bore into each other. 
You expect a feeling of regret to wash over you, but it never comes. 
Instead, Charlie’s hands slide to your waist and pull you closer, his lips peppering gentle kisses along your jaw, hairline, and lips. He reaches over beside him, grabbing a flannel he left draped over the back of the couch. Carefully, he drapes the patterned material over your shoulders, and your hands drop from his face, letting you lean forward and rest your head against his chest. You aren’t necessarily cold, but having shared an intimate moment with him, Charlie feels the need to cover you–to make you feel less exposed and to provide care.
“We should get cleaned up.” You mumble against him, feeling him soften inside of you.
“Okay…” His voice trails off, as if deep in thought. A beat passes before he speaks again, his gruff voice rumbling against your cheek from deep within his chest. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
You smile, genuinely in what feels like forever, “I’d love to.”
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corroded-hellfire · 4 months ago
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I just need pre-relationship AYW!Eddie all pent up and feral for Reader. I need him whimpering when he touches himself after Reader leaves for the evening. I need him trying to picture anyone else besides his kids’ babysitter but he keeps picturing Reader.
Your wish is my command! 😘
Warnings: male masturbation, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), older!eddie, babysitter!reader, the longing is real
Words: 2.4k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Go to sleep now,” you grumble playfully, ruffling Luke’s curls as he smiles up at you from his bed.
“One more story?” Luke asks, though his voice betrays how sleepy he already is.
“Come on, buddy,” Eddie says from the doorway. “She’s been nice enough to stay for dinner and read you two bedtime stories already.”
A smile that steals Eddie’s breath grows on your lips as you turn to look at your boss.
“You make it sound like such a hardship,” you quip.
“I don’t think your union allows for overtime,” Eddie replies.
You let out a soft giggle and Eddie feels his insides begin to melt. It’s catastrophically unfair, the effect you have on him. Not in his whole life has Eddie met someone who so effortlessly turns him on and makes his heart race. As impossible as it is to ignore the feelings, Eddie tries not to linger on them for a few reasons. One, you’re a complete pipe dream. There is no way you, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and hilarious you would ever see a man over a decade older than you in the same light that he sees you. Two, and which he admits is arguably the bigger reason, is that he’s married. Sure, it hasn’t been a real marriage in…God knows how long. But it’s still a legally binding marriage that he hasn’t even attempted to separate from. Not for lack of want, though. It’s hard to see a point when it would cause the breakup of his boys’ family, and for what? So Eddie could be all alone in some smaller unfamiliar home that he struggles to afford on his own while caring for his sons, only getting to see them half the time he does now? No. He basically is doing it all alone right now, with the lack of input from Brittany, but at least Luke and Ryan are in the home they know and the two combined household incomes can give them a pretty good life.
Unfortunately, all the logic in the world can’t cure Eddie’s addiction to you.
“Close your eyes, sleepyhead.” You stand up from the edge of the four-year-old’s bed and lean over to press a kiss to his forehead.
The way you bend down towards the boy gives Eddie a spectacular view of your ass. He’s forced to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to suppress the groan that so desperately wants to escape. As much as he internally chides himself, Eddie can’t tear his eyes away either. He gets so few chances to just look at you, that he can’t bring himself to cut this precious time short.
“Night night,” Luke says through a yawn.
“Night, pal,” Eddie says.
You boop your index finger against the little boy’s nose before standing up straight and heading in Eddie’s direction. The two of you exit into the hallway and Eddie closes the door almost all the way–leaving it open just a crack to allow some of the hallway light in.
The two of you are silent as you walk to the living room, both silently dreading that it’s time to part for the evening. You swipe your bag up from the couch and slip it onto your shoulder.
“I guess I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow,” you say, reluctantly taking steps toward the front door.
“Thanks for staying longer than you had to,” Eddie says, walking you to the door like always. He feels like he should add the words “for the boys” to the end of his sentence, but he can’t bring himself to. As much as the boys adore you, Eddie knows he is without a doubt the happiest one that you stayed for dinner and until bedtime.
“It was fun,” you tell him. “I always have fun here.”
“Always?” Eddie teases, raising his eyebrows. “Can I remind you that you said that the next time Luke has a meltdown?”
“Sure,” you reply with a chuckle.
The electricity in the air threatens to spark at any moment as Eddie reaches around you to open the front door.
“Drive careful, sweetheart,” he says.
“No,” you tease with a playful smirk. “I’m going to drive recklessly. Run all the red lights.”
“Don’t give me reason to worry,” Eddie mumbles, knocking his shoulder against yours.
“Aww,” you coo. “You worry about me?”
Heat rises to Eddie’s cheeks and he desperately wills it to move back down his body.
“Alright, smart ass.” Eddie wrinkles his nose up and pretends to shove you out the door.
With a laugh, you playfully stumble down the walkway a few steps, acting as if his push was that strong.
“Oh, fine!” you lament over-dramatically. “I’ll be a good girl! Bye, Eddie.”
A good girl. Suddenly, Eddie wishes that heat and blood would stay in his face instead of rushing to his groin like it currently is.
“Bye, sweetheart.”
The moment you’re safely in your car and Eddie hears the engine start, he closes the front door and groans in time with the locking mechanism clicking into place.
“This just feels cruel,” he mumbles to himself as he rests his forehead against the cool wood of the door. He lets himself stand there until he hears your car rumble down the road and off into the night.
It takes a Herculean effort to push himself up and head deeper into the house. Out of habit, Eddie glances at the clock on the wall to see if Brittany will be home soon or not. It’s useless though—there’s never a set time she comes home. Who knows where she is or what she’s doing? Or who she’s doing. The pseudo-schedule the household used to follow has fallen by the wayside, so Eddie mentally tells himself to ignore it altogether. Easier said than done, of course.
When Eddie steps into the hallway it’s silent. No sounds of Luke sneaking out of bed to play with his toys or Ryan fumbling for his flashlight to read beneath his covers. Heaving a sigh, Eddie decides he might as well take care of the situation in his pants.
Despite Brittany not being home, Eddie locks the bedroom door behind him. Luke has also started the bad habit of opening any and every door without knocking first. So, better to be safe than sorry.
“Okay, think of someone else,” Eddie says to himself as he rids himself of his clothes. “Anyone else. Not her.”
It shouldn’t be hard to think of another woman to get himself off. Hell, for the entirety of Eddie’s teenage years, he could’ve jacked it to almost any woman and it would be great. Now he can’t seem to get this one specific, unattainable woman out of his mind.
He shucks the last of his clothes off and lays down on his bed, wracking his brain for someone who can get the job done. Julia Roberts? Nah. Jennifer Aniston? No. Cindy Crawford? Nope. Nicole Kidman? Maybe….no. Aunt Viv from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? The first, not the second one. Still no.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans, letting his eyes fall closed as he wraps his hand around his semi-hard shaft. He licks over his lips and tries to let himself relax. The only way Eddie is going to be able to take care of this problem is to think about you and he knows it. He also knows he needs to hurry up if he wants to finish before Brittany comes home.
The mere thought of the woman who sleeps next to him at night has him softening slightly in his hand. A snort of laughter comes out, Eddie finding that humorous. Objectively, Brittany is beautiful, but knowing the rot and decay that lays just beneath the surface ruins any attractiveness Eddie could ever find in her anymore. Even though he already knows what will happen, Eddie immediately switches his thoughts over to you to see the effect. It’s instant. His cock comes to life at the very thought of your name.
No shit, Eddie thinks to himself as he opens his legs a little wider. Because she’s literally a fucking goddess. God, those eyes. Eddie’s hand grips himself a little tighter and moves down towards the base.
“Say you’re a good girl again, baby,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. Fuck, he can’t believe he was lucky enough to hear those words come from your lips. Jesus, he can hardly imagine being lucky enough to come home to you at the end of the day. Walking in the door after work and seeing you is already what he looks forward to all day, he can’t fathom how he would feel if you greeted him with a kiss and stayed there with him and the boys all night. And once the boys go to bed it’s time for some fun.
“Please.”
The word tumbles from Eddie’s lips but he’s not entirely sure what he’s asking for. You to be there with him? You to be by his side always? You to be here, naked, with your hand around him instead of his own?
Okay, Eddie thinks, shifting to make himself more comfortable. There we go, think about coming home to her.
He begins to slowly stroke his cock up and down.
Eddie imagines walking through the front door and kicking his boots off. Your voice hums sweetly from the kitchen and it brings a smile to his face.
“What smells so good, huh?” he asks as he strolls into the room.
The sight he’s greeted by is almost enough to bring him to his knees. You stand at the counter, facing him, an apron on and a bowl full of cake batter held in your hands.
“Welcome home,” you say.
Dark brown eyes follow your every move as you slowly dip your forefinger into the batter and pop it into your mouth. Eddie finds himself holding his breath as you slide your finger out from between your plush pink lips at a torturous pace.
As if the first time wasn’t enough, you dip your finger back in, but instead of putting it in your mouth this time, you point your finger up and stick your tongue out to lick every speck of vanilla batter off of it.
“Oh, fuck me,” Eddie moans.
With a soft laugh, you set the bowl down and look up at Eddie through your thick eyelashes.
“Funny. I was going to say that to you.”
A rough growl reverberates from Eddie’s chest as he moves forward to grab you by the hips. It’s only once he has his hands on you that he realizes not only are you wearing the apron—you’re wearing only the apron.
“God damn, baby,” he mutters. Calloused hands slide back just slightly and come into contact with your bare ass. He drops his head forward to rest against yours with a helpless whine.
You giggle, tilting your head up to brush your nose against his.
“I like the sounds you make,” you tell him, voice thick with lust.
Before he responds, Eddie presses a few gentle kisses along your bare shoulder and up the side of your throat.
“I want to hear your noises, too.”
“Hmm,” you hum. “I don’t think that’ll be very hard to manage.” You reach up with your left hand and tug on the tied apron string resting on the nape of your neck. The front of the apron falls down, leaving your entire torso exposed to Eddie.
A guttural groan meets your ears as strong hands grab you by the waist and help you up onto the counter. Immediately, you spread your legs and Eddie stands between them, the two of you fighting with the apron to get it all the way off you.
Eddie tosses it over his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling the two of your bodies as close as possible.
“Eddie,” you whine, reaching up to bury your fingers in his unruly curls.
“What baby?” His breath brushes against your lips, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.
“Need you.” Using your grip on his hair, you pull Eddie’s face down to crash against yours.
Mouths meet, lips dancing, tongues exploring, and teeth clashing. Strong yet gentle fingertips dig into your skin, yearning to hold you as tight as humanly possible. Nothing is close enough.
Eddie pulls back just enough to playfully nip at your bottom lip.
“Being such a good girl for me,” he rasps.
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you run your nose along the edge of Eddie’s jawline.
“Wanna be so good for you. Wanna feel you, Eddie. Pretty please?”
A smug smirk grows on Eddie’s face as he reaches between your two bodies to unzip his navy blue coveralls. You shove the material down his hips as Eddie whips his white undershirt off over his head.
“Ready for me, princess?”
Eddie lines himself up with your entrance, glancing up at your face as he waits for your approval.
“God, yes!” You nod emphatically, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get him inside of you faster.
Eddie grins at your eagerness, putting both of you out of your misery as he pushes inside.
“Fuck,” he groans.
“Oh!” You whimper, clinging to Eddie’s shoulders.
The sweet little noises spilling from your lips only encourage Eddie. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back into your tight wet heat. It feels as close to euphoria as Eddie’s ever felt. He wants to spend forever between your legs, but it feels far too good to last long.
“Feels so good,” you whine.
“Yeah, baby?” Eddie asks. “Like when I…oh, fuck.”
Eddie doesn’t have time to imagine what he’d say next before hot cum starts to pour over his fist.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles as his orgasm works its way through his body. His hand keeps going, milking his cock for everything that it’s worth.
Once he’s well and truly spent, Eddie lets his boneless body sink into the mattress. His arm flings over the side of the bed and his fingertips brush against his t-shirt laying on the floor. Blindly, he picks it up and wipes his coated hand off before wiping the cum off his abdomen, legs, and anywhere else it went.
“Holy shit,” Eddie sighs. His head falls to the side and his eyes slip closed. A goofy smile comes to his face as his mind returns to you. “Fuck, I’m so gone for her.”
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wonderjanga · 5 months ago
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Marvel’s an Alien?
The JL ended up going to a distant planet for diplomatic reasons. Marvel wasn’t there, neither was any of his sidekicks and or children(?). The explanation for why he couldn’t come was that Mr. Mind, a “mind controlling worm that crawls into your ear” was attacking Fawcett. None of the JL wanted to touch mind control, not even with a twenty foot pole so they just sent the Marvels on their way.
Now, the juicy thing was that everyone on this planet had the powers of Marvel. Though to a lesser degree it seems. None of these Keraunotes, which was what they called themselves, could seem to muster the same electrical output Marvel could. That’s what Batman said anyways. They actually asked one of the monarchs of the planet about why no one could use more electricity.
Monarchy: “What do you mean more?”
Aquaman: “We mean more. Like, we have this friend who can do a lot more than you guys.” *shows the monarch a vid of Marvel spamming a bunch of lightning at a villain* “Is there a reason you guys can’t use more? A limitation?”
Monarchy: *offended* “The limitation is death! If anyone used that much, they would die from the exhaustion. How is he even alive?”
That was a little concerning to the JL who were fully set on Marvel being a Keraunote. Was he constantly exhausting himself whenever he fought? Did he miss his home? Why’d he leave? Many questions were swirling in their heads. So, they decided to try and be better friends to Marvel. They decided to learn some things about this place.
Batman learned the planets language, or languages, there were multiple but he just stuck to couple and hoped for the best. He decided to test this about a week after they came back from the planet.
(foreign language is italics)
Batman: “Marvel, I need your input on something?”
Marvel: *confusion as to why Batman’s speaking another language, Solomon translates it* “Of course? What is it?”
Batman: “There’s currently a team of heroes stranded on an uninhabited planet. Do you think you’d be able to fly there and restart the power of their ship using your own electricity?”
Marvel: “I could try.” *sounds concerned* “When can I go help them?”
Batman: “Right after I ask a question. Is my pronunciation alright?”
Marvel: “Uh… Yes?”
Solomon: “Tell him to emphasize the vowels more.”
Marvel: “You might want to emphasize your vowels more though.”
Batman: “I see.” *nods head* “Well, you’re free to go save them now.”
GL and Flash decided to learn some dishes of the planet for Marvel.
Flash: *leading Marvel by the arm to the kitchen* “Trust us, man. You’re going to love it!”
Marvel: “Am I? I feel like this is a prank.”
GL: *is hovering his hands over Cap’s eyes* (that’s why Flash is pulling him along) “It’s not!”
Marvel: “I don’t think I believe you.”
Flash: “Well, regardless of what you believe. Tada!”
GL: *takes his hands off Marvel’s eyes*
Marvel: *sees a bunch of food on one of the counters* “Oh wow!” *loves food*
GL and Flash: *thinks his love of food is him loving that it’s food from his planet and are super proud*
Hawkgirl and Aquaman learned a game that was played on the planet.
Marvel, Aquaman, and Hawkgirl: *all playing a Keraunote card game on the floor with all of them bored but trying to hide it*
Marvel: *just gives up on hiding it* “Guys.” *puts a card down* “This is really boring.”
Aquaman: “Oh thank God!” *chucks his hand of cards over his shoulder* “I thought I was the only one.”
Hawkgirl: “How about we just spar in the training room?” *also throws her hand over her shoulder*
Marvel: “That sounds way better than whatever this was. I barely understood the rules.” *neatly, gracefully, simply puts his hand of cards down on the floor and stands up*
Hawkgirl: “You too? And here I thought it was just me.” *stands up*
Aquaman: “We were all confused.” *stands up*
They all went to spar and then drank juice boxes while sharing a bag of cheddar & sour cream flavored ruffles after.
Anyways, it’s safe to say the JL are all super proud of themselves.
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benz12313 · 3 months ago
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🥺👉👈 ridoc who falls head over heels in love with violets twin who is autistic and he's an absolute sweetheart to her, and helps her when she needs something and protects her.
Also their dragons are mated and aotrom is very over protective of her.
I had so much fun writing this. I hope this was written well. As a parent of an autistic child (diagnosed) and as someone who suspects herself and her other child are AuDHD but in the process of getting diagnosed, I really tried to represent this well. I also think in the Fourth Wing universe, at least in Basgaith, many mental differences are shunned or looked down upon, so I went that angle with this fic. Please give me feedback on how I did with this request. I also have some ideas for a part two so let me know if you'd like that! Thank you for your request though! I had a lot of fun working on it. :)
Own Worst Enemy - Ridoc x Sorrengail!Reader
Warnings: violence, death, dragon mate possessive behaviour
Word Count: 4,274
I sat quietly next to Violet, as she interacted with her- our friends. As much as they assured me that I was just as included as her, I’d never really felt that way. I wasn’t like her. I didn’t know what to say, what to do? Always feeling a little bit lost when the group was together, like I was one step behind, too busy analyzing everyone to add my own input into conversations. Sometimes it felt like they only put up with me because I was Violet’s twin, and not nearly as breakable as her. 
I was good with schoolwork and okay with challenges, at least good enough to hold my own and take minimal injuries; and my joints are stronger than hers, not popping and breaking under pressure. Perks of being a fraternal twin I guess. Our DNA isn’t identical. No, something else in me feels broken. Something deeper. More substantial. Something I never talked about with anyone, ever. 
Violet has asked before, in my moments of weakness, when everything is too much and I can’t hide. But I always am able to reign it back in then, hide it all behind a smile and recite lines I know will appease her worry. After all, the mask I wear protects me, especially growing up in a family where weakness isn’t tolerated. Even Dad, who saw straight through me. He expected me to reign it in too. Taught me in his own ways how to know what to say, how to make people look away, how to breathe when it was too much. Yet he still expected me to conform, to act like everything was okay. Like I wasn’t broken and weak minded. 
I was a good actress at least. Everyone just thought I was quiet and reserved. And they never looked too hard at me, letting me fall into the background. I preferred it that way, it was much easier.
Everyone, except Ridoc Gamlyn, of course. He was always right there. In my space, but somehow, I never minded it. Maybe because with Ridoc, it didn’t matter what I said, he just accepted it. When I missed an unwritten social rule, he just smiled and responded, somehow getting what I was trying to say instead of harping on how I said it. He was annoying at times, always a bit loud, but he could say or do whatever he felt like with no reservations, easily breaking through my walls like no other could. Not even my own sister. I was honestly a bit jealous. 
Ridoc wouldn’t let me fade either, prodding me to talk with him while the others were occupied in their own conversations. His voice usually quieter in those moments when he was trying to get me to reconnect, asking the oddest questions about whatever I was working on. It worked though, making my mind settle as I answered whatever he’d asked me, the casual back and forth grounding me, easing my anxiety over messing up. 
He could see me. Really see me, like nobody ever had. It didn’t take me long to understand though, as I quickly became interested in trying to figure him out. Nobody really saw him either. Seeing what he wanted them to see. The loud, boisterous, sexually overconfident man he let everyone see wasn’t all of him. He didn’t let them see his worry over schoolwork, or over whatever current obstacle we were being thrown as new riders (currently the gauntlet) or his disappointment when a night of fun never became anything more, even if his conquest came back, it was never more than for another round. It was such a carefully crafted act that nobody thought to ask questions, nobody seeing that there was even an act to catch. 
Nobody could see. But I could. And he knew I could, giving me a knowing smile in his moments of weakness, but I never knew what to say to make it better. I don’t really think he wanted any sympathy, hence the mask that mirrored my own. He interested me though, so completely different than the others. Even though that’s what he wanted, I could never truly look away. Not when he’d become my biggest source of safety in this death college. 
Always pushing me on the mat, giving me pointers on how to improve. Walking with me when I needed a moment, my body feeling restless. Talk about my books, even the smutty ones, maybe especially the smutty ones. He’d grin and let me talk for hours, sitting on his bed in the men’s dormitory as we talked quietly. He’d glare at any of the other men who looked at us too long, daring them to say something. To make one move towards me. None ever did. And he always listened, asking questions that actually made me think, or that would lead me to another tangent.
Ridoc Gamlyn was an enigma I could barely understand, so I too hung around. Maybe it was the same for him. Maybe we were both just trying to figure the other out, never quite getting there. Never quite understanding. But accepting. Always accepting. 
“I think, maybe you could bounce back and forth up the chimney. Your joints aren’t as weak as Violet’s so if you get enough speed and momentum…” He trailed off, as he watched me nudge my sausage across my plate. “Y/N?”
I met his warm brown eyes for a moment before my eyes quickly returned to my plate, torturing my sausage again. “I get what you’re saying. It’s worth a try.” It was presentation day, and this was my last try after all. Violet had told me her plan, but it wouldn’t work for me. If both of us pushed the rules like that, then one of us would definitely be disqualified. It was her plan, so I told her I’d already found another way. Lied through my teeth, but she’d let it go so it must’ve been convincing enough. 
“C’mon, you’ll make it.” He assured, like there was no possibility I wouldn’t. “After all, my best friend isn’t a weakling.”
The twisting in my gut wasn’t unfamiliar, it happened every time he mentioned us as being friends. Why? I wasn’t quite sure, and it was one of the few things I refused to ruminate on. I refused any negative emotion when it came to Ridoc, too afraid to let anything take hold and then let the emotions push away my only solace in this place. 
“Yeah.” I sighed. Then forced a smile as I met his gaze again, holding it this time. “Just want it to be over with.” 
He smiled, moving some hair out of my face, the annoying strand of hair that always refused to stay in my crown of braids. “I know you do. And you’re gonna kick ass, and then in two days, we’re gonna get dragons and be certified badasses.” He sent me a big grin and I sighed, looking away to hide the smile blooming on my lips. I speared the sausage on my fork and plopped it in my mouth, finishing my breakfast. 
“Yeah, yeah. Can’t get rid of me that easy.” I joked and with a quick glance from the corner of my gaze I saw his smile widen. 
“Exactly Sorrengail. You’re stuck with me. Forever.” I laughed, before standing, Ridoc quickly following me. “Besides, I haven’t heard about the end of that dark romance you’ve been reading. It’s just started getting good. And I won’t have the patience to read it myself if you go and die on me.”
“Glad to see I have some use.” I snorted at him, my body relaxing the moment we’d gotten to the hall. The noise of the cafeteria fading the further we got from it. Finally, I could actually hear myself think now. 
“Oh don’t be like that! You’re smarter than Violet, and that’s saying something.” He said and I rolled my eyes. 
“No, I just watch more than she does. It’s easier to put things together when I don’t have to worry about holding a conversation at the same time.” I countered and he chuckled, pinching my side and making me squirm away. I still giggled against my will though. “Plus the photographic memory helps.” I snorted out another laugh when he poked me again. “Stop that!” 
“Okay. Okay.” He relented, giving me a goofy grin and shoving his hands in his pockets. I knew that was the only way he’d be able to not touch me as he tried to honor my wishes. Ridoc never really could seem to keep his hands to himself when he was near me. Especially when he was nervous. “Don’t discount yourself though. You’re brilliant. Own it.”
“Shut it Gamlyn. I’ve got enough to worry about.” I sighed, taking in his expression before bumping his shoulder with my own. “Don’t need to worry about me okay? I won’t die today.” 
The anxiety in his eyes faded, replaced with all consuming warmth as I was stuck in his gaze. He opened the door ahead of us, not saying a thing. 
Ridoc’s POV
I held the door for her, warmth pulling at me as her gaze never faltered. I believed her, after all, it wasn’t often that she lied to me. In fact, she was usually unabashedly honest with me. A fact I was grateful for. She hid herself from the rest of our friends, her sister, but couldn’t hide from me. 
Her brilliant mind fascinated me, she was amazing in her own unique ways. How the others couldn’t see it was beyond me. She was definitely the strongest, and smartest of us. I just wish they could see that, that she could see that, just once. She finally rolled her eyes, moving through the door as her cheeks went pink and my chest swelled with pride. 
She was beautiful, in every way, and I'd been hopelessly pining after her since that first night when we’d been assigned to the same squad. When she’d finally met my gaze with those pretty y/e/c eyes of hers, catching me in a trance as she looked through me. Past my confident facade, straight to my core, past all the bullshit I wore like armor. But then she didn’t call me out like most would have, just cocked an eyebrow at me, and looked away. Like it was some secret that she was electing to keep for me. 
I’d been practically begging for her attention since, especially after I’d figured out that she was pretending too. That she hid herself, afraid of the inevitable rejection too. But she didn’t play pranks, pretend to be stupid and refuse any feelings too painful to address. No she refused everyone, never letting anybody too close to be able to hurt her. Only letting the rest of our friends close enough to see what she deemed the useful parts of herself, but never close enough for them to really see her. But she let me. And I knew it was because she saw our similarities. 
I was broken from my thoughts when we made it to the gauntlet, and fear seized my heart. As quickly as it’d taken over, it was gone because Y/N shoved my shoulder with hers again, sending me a bright smile. 
“We’ve got this Ridoc.” It was simple, yet wholly convincing. 
“We’ve got this.” I repeated, squeezing my hands into fists in my pockets to keep them still. To keep them from pulling her into my arms, and never letting go. 
Y/N’s POV
I made it. I fucking made it! Shock seized me as Ridoc’s bellows rang in my ears, not quite hearing it even though his words echoed through me. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, spinning me around as he held me in a bone crushing grip. He set me back on the ground but didn’t let go, burying his head in my shoulder. 
“You made it.” He whispered, and I nodded, tears pricking in the corner of my eyes as emotion flooded through me. Everything was suddenly too much as I hid my face in his chest. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
“I made it.” I whispered back, squeezing him from where my arms were wrapped around his neck. 
We made it through presentation as well. Though several of the less savory of our squad couldn’t say the same for themselves. None of the dragons really stood out to me, a hollow feeling in my chest as I walked off the flight field. I won’t be chosen. I knew none of those dragons would choose me, deep in my soul. I didn’t say anything though, not until I was sitting criss-cross with my back leaning on his pillows and headboard as I watched him sharpening his sword, talking about needing to be ready for threshing. 
“Did you-“ I paused when he quieted and glanced up at me, “Did you feel any of their approval?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. 
“The dragons?” He asked, putting down the stone in his hand and setting the sword to the side. Damn him, he must’ve noticed my shift in mood, deciding to focus on me completely now. I nodded. He thought a moment, his face shifting into contemplation, a look I couldn’t help but find so handsome. “Not really. There was those greens that crowded your sister. But I was terrified of them. Maybe that brown one, towards the end, that was annoying the others? Rolling all around them. He was funny. But I don’t know, none of them really jumped out at me.”
He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off that brown. I remember following behind him, watching him as he had softly chuckled at the dragons antics. For him to have brought it up again…maybe he was just lying to me, or himself, but he’d definitely had a connection to that dragon. My heart dropped. 
He must’ve seen it too because he sighed, before crawling over and wrapping his arms around me as he pulled me into his side, and I leaned my head on his chest. “You are gonna get a dragon tomorrow. I just know it. Maybe your dragon just isn’t sure about you yet.”
“Comforting.” I snorted, voice devoid of emotion.
“Look, I know I haven’t convinced you, and you’ll be thinking some awful things about yourself now.” He paused, sighing and looking unsure of himself as he tried to find the right words to soothe me. Failing, but he’s cute, trying like that. “Just trust that I know, more than I’ve known anything that you will get a dragon tomorrow. If any of us deserves one, it’s you.”
The raw honesty in his voice made my heart race, and despite myself, his words gave me an inkling of hope. Hope that he was right. That there really was a dragon out there who could accept me, despite my shortcomings. Hope that a dragon would find me worthy. 
“Thanks Ridoc.” I mumbled, and hoped that he’d hold me just a little longer as I worked to pull myself back together. 
He did. 
Ridoc’s POV
I wandered the woods, my mind occupied with Y/N and her show of weakness last night. She never let the facade fall that completely before, she was scared. More scared than she’d been for the gauntlet. Afraid a dragon wouldn’t want her. I frowned as I hid behind a tree as a red passed by. I knew that one wasn’t mine, but luckily it either hadn’t noticed me or decided to spare me instead. 
I’d felt a tug all afternoon as I wandered the forest, coaxing me further and further inwards, where I knew that brown was waiting. I’d meant what I said last night, it’d only been once I’d left my friends that I felt the tug. But Y/N had caught what I hadn’t last night, in that way that only she does, already knowing the brown had intended on choosing me. 
I finally started moving again, lost thinking about Y/N. Too lost to notice the forest shifting in front of me, until a deep male voice rang through my head, ‘Oh come on! You didn’t even notice me!” 
I jumped back two feet, suddenly seeing two large golden eyes staring at me from a large brown swordtail that was hanging from a particularly large tree. A tree that still looked like it was about to buckle under the weight of him. 
“S-sorry.” I stuttered out. 
The brown jumped from the tree, landing on the ground and sending me staggering from the shockwaves. ‘I suppose I’ll forgive you. Only cause you’re so worried about her. Call me Aotrom, I’ll give you my full name later. You’re mine now.’ He sniffed at me as he circled me, before settling in front of me again, looking proud of himself. 
“You mean Sorrengail? Y/N?” I specified, remembering Violet was out here too. 
The dragon made a sound, that sounded suspiciously like a snort. ‘Who else? Your mate of course.’ 
My body froze as my mouth fell open in shock. “She’s not! We’re not-“ I shook my head. “She’s my friend.”
He tilted his head, looking confused. ‘Oh? I thought…’ He sounded confused too, thinking, before his face lit up again, tail wagging back and forth. ‘I see! Eve did say she thought you two hadn’t acted on it yet when I shared my memories with her. I guess she’s right!’
My mind was swimming. This-my dragon, Aotrom, was unlike any other dragon we’d learned about. That was for sure. And he thought me and Y/N were mates??? “Who’s Eve?” I finally let the words out and the dragon puffed his chest out as he straightened with obvious pride. 
‘My mate of course.’
Y/N POV
I kept a hand over my mouth as an orange slinked by, sniffing the air. I willed my traitorous heart to slow, afraid that the nasty looking dragon would hear my heartbeats and try to eat me. Eventually he slinked out of view, and I let out a small breath as I continued on my way.
I still felt that hollowness. No pull anywhere as I wandered around aimlessly. I’d run into a dozen different dragons now, and felt nothing from any of them. 
I silently wondered if Ridoc had found that brown swordtail. I wondered if Rhi and Violet had found theirs too. If Sawyer would finally get his own. If I would be forced to repeat the year as well, and start over next year. 
I paused when I heard a rustling in the bushes, but before I could hide, one of the other cadets strode out. It was one that hung by Barlow, not in his inner circle but itching to move his way in and appease the cruel man. He was tall and fit, definitely a foot taller than me. I palmed my daggers as he stared at me, cruel grin forming as he looked me up and down. 
“The quiet Sorrengail twin.” He hissed and I glared. 
“Won’t earn you any points with Barlow killing me.” By sheer will my voice was strong. 
“Oh, but it will weaken her, and Barlow will approve of that if he hasn’t killed her by the end of the day.” My heart raced at his words as I steeled myself for the fight ahead of me. He wasn’t backing down now. 
He ran four steps raising his sword and was about to swing when air rushed around me, and then suddenly he was lifted off the ground, a giant scorpion tail sticking out his back and through his chest. With a flick of the tail his body flew behind me. 
But I was frozen in fear. Standing in front of me was a dragon, with navy blue scales and bright green eyes narrowed on me, assessing. Waiting for what my response would be. It’s tail moved slowly now, curling around its body, which gave me some hope that this dragon didn’t plan on killing me. Yet at least. 
“Thank you.” I whispered, lowering my gaze as my thoughts went wild. There weren’t supposed to be any blues out here today. 
‘I came because my mate wished to take a rider, that’s all.’ Her voice was majestic, beautiful and commanding, filling my head and making my eyes snap back to hers. She was talking to me…but that meant… ‘Yes, Strategist, I agree with my mate’s assessment. You are worthy of being mine, despite your worries. He may have been selfish, having chosen his own already, but he had assured me that you would do me proud young warrior. Now, climb on, before I change my mind.’
She chuffed out a puff of air in my face and I chose not to argue and climb atop the small blue dragon. She wasn’t the smallest of the ones we’d seen during presentation, but she definitely wasn’t the largest, I noted as I climbed on top of her. 
She grumbled. ‘I am only 21!’ She hissed out the words irritated with my…thoughts. Great she can read my mind. ‘I will grow with time! I’ll be bigger than Aunt Sgaeyl even! Just you watch!’
So don’t mention her size. Noted. Wait, Sgaeyl? Riorson’s dragon??? 
‘My name is Eventhasil, but you may refer to me as Eve.” Then she was launching into the air not a second after I had thoroughly settled into the seat, ignoring my mental question of her lineage. I gripped her tightly with my thighs, hanging on for dear life. Once she leveled out, not jostling me at all anymore, I was able to actually enjoy the wind flowing through my hair. Joy flooded me and tears welled up again. I was actually chosen. 
��That is a habit we will have to kill with prejudice. Your doubt in yourself is sickening.’ Though her words were harsh, I think that was supposed to be encouraging. 
‘What about your mate?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘What’s he like? Who has he chosen?’ It would be nice to know exactly which cadet I’m now tied to for the rest of my life.
‘He approaches.’ She says simply, her voice going quiet as she speeds up, forcing me to hold tighter as a brown tried to catch up. Were they…racing? ‘Yes, and if Aotrom wins he’ll be insufferable. Hold tight.’ Determination laced her tone as she tightened her movements racing towards the flight field at top speed, easily outflying the brown as she flung her wings out at the last minute, landing quickly. I was nearly flung from my seat with the maneuver, but with luck and my muscles locking, I was able to hold on. The brown landed thirty seconds later, towering over Eve as he snapped at her face playfully. She snapped back at him, narrowly missing his neck as her tail swung behind us. 
But then another dragon landed on her other side and the brown lurched forward, growling low in his throat as he eyed the other male, his swordtail curling around Eve protectively.
She, however, sat calmly amidst his display of possessiveness. Almost…bored? 
‘Overpossessive male.’ She explained, irritation lacing her tone. ‘Male dragons are known to be volatile towards any potential threats in the first few years of establishing a mate bond. And Aotrom is very…determined to keep me as his.’ An obvious affection was laced in her last words. The other male backed away, submitting to Aotrom’s dominance and claim, eyes and head down as he moved out of range. Only when the male had moved a sufficient distance away and Aotrom relaxed, turning to his mate again did I see his rider. Ridoc. Holy shit! Ridoc!
Happiness bubbled within me. There was no one better to be tied to! Holy shit. And he looked unharmed, thank the gods. 
‘Go speak with him.’ Eve somehow sounded…teasing? ‘He’s relieved that Aotrom had told the truth when he told him that you were safe. As if I’d ever let harm come to what’s mine.’ She snorted at the last sentence and I laughed. 
‘I’m glad he’s okay too.’ I sent her way as I climbed down. 
The moment my feet hit the ground they lifted again, as Ridoc’s arms wrapped around me and swung me around. “We both got dragons! We’re both riders!” His voice was full of joy as he put me on my feet again. “We made it Y/N! We made it!” His hands moved to my cheeks, and I was frozen as euphoria took over his gaze, and then in a split second, his mouth was on mine. 
Moving, kissing, me. I slowly moved back holding onto the moment as my heart burst. My crush was kissing me. Tongue slipping into my mouth as he pulled me to him, pine and male and Ridoc taking over my senses completely as I lost myself in him. 
This moment was perfection. 
And then it was ruined, by Sawyer calling our names, obviously not able to really see us yet. Ridoc jumped back, looking panicked and my heart lurched. Did he not mean to do that? His eyes scanned mine as he backed up. 
“Talk later?” He asked, and I froze. He froze too, hands hovering over my waist. “Y/N? Talk later yeah?” 
I nodded, words catching in my throat as Eve growled in my mind. But she said nothing. 
“Yeah.” I whispered, putting on a smile as our friend greeted us. 
~ I'm taking requests as well, just submit them to my inbox and I'll get to them when I have time.
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usomads · 6 months ago
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Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader
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Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!
Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...
Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI
Word Count -> 3.0k
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“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process. 
“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.
“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.
“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away. 
“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”
“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.
“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe. 
“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing. 
“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him. 
“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?” 
“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.
“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.
“Sucio…” 
“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.
“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.
“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”
“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”
“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.
“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”
“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”
“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.
“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.
“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.
“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”
“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”
“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?
“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”
“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.
“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-” 
“Still thinking about Dom…” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you…  only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.
“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.
“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?” 
“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him. 
“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?” 
“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.
“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him. 
“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.
“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.
“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.
“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.
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Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.
He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”
“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.
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smilesatdawnmain · 4 months ago
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Taken Back (Part Two)
Previous
Next
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As the two children embraced, there was a sense of confusion and amazement in the air. Broken only when the Monkey Prince spoke.
"I know you," Xiaotian whispers, his words filled with wonder.
Macaque’s ears flickered, startled. He didn’t know what that meant, and perhaps Xiaotian didn’t understand either. When he looked at Wukong, the two parents were left puzzled as the boys sobbed and clung to each other.
“Um…” Wukong drawled out, gesturing to the two in hopes his mate might have some input.
Macaque did not, but he stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving the two boys. He hadn’t even had a chance to really look at this human cub yet before this was all happening. He placed a hand on Wukong's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I think," he said softly, "We need to talk." they exchanged a long and meaningful look. This was strange- stranger then anything they had ever seen before, and they had seen a lot in their time.
Wukong nodded, his own gaze still fixed on Xiaotian and MK. He had never seen his son react this way to anyone, let alone a complete stranger. It was as if the two children shared a bond that transcended explanation. “Yeah,” he was in complete agreement. Yet, before they could, he felt it was best they deal with this… situation? “Uh- Xiaoxiao?” he called to his son tenderly.
Xiaotian sniffled, lifting his tear-streaked face from MK's shoulder to look at his father. "Daddy," he said, his voice trembling, "Can... can he stay with us? Please? Forever??"
“Forever??” Wukong's heart clenched at the pleading look in his son's eyes. He admits… he had a similar thought, but for Xiaotian to also feel this way? He glanced at Macaque, who seemed equally torn. "Oh- Xiaoxiao," Wukong began gently, grimacing and rubbing the back of his neck. He shouldn’t just say yes, he knew. "MK has a home of his own. We can't just-"
"No!" Xiaotian cried out, clutching MK's against his chest, clinging to him with all his might. His parents stiffened, feeling a cold chill shoot up their spines when their child screamed, “No Daddy, don’t take him away! No no- please!” He was clinging to MK, sobbing his little heart out.
Wukong was panicking immediately, eyes wide, having never heard his son plead before. Mihou almost rushed forward to grab and console him, barely forcing himself still. “X-Xiaoxiao-??” Wukong stammered.
“Please—! Pleaseee-“ Xiaotian’s voice cracked.
Wukong’s entire body tensed and his stomach tightened, wanting with all of his being to alleviate his son’s concerns. He was waving his hands around in a frantic manner. “Okay! Okay! He can stay!”
“Wukong?!” Macaque smacked his arm.
“For dinner!” Wukong added in after wincing and rubbing his arm. “W-We uh- he’ll stay for dinner.” he nodded, sounding more assured. “Which your Baba and I have to prepare. Sooo-”
Macaque shot Wukong a pointed look, but seeing the desperation in his son's eyes, he softened. "Yes, Sun Spot, your friend can stay for dinner. Okay?" He managed a small smile. They watched the concern leave Xiaotian’s teary gaze, softening as he nuzzled the boy in his arms.
“Otay…”
There was a shudder to Macaque’s shoulders, carefully reaching out to brush a few tears from his baby’s face. It was painful to see him so upset “W-Why don't you show him around Flower Fruit Mountain while your Daddy and I get things ready?"
Xiaotian's face lit up, smiling through a tearful expression. He rubbed his arm to his eyes, sniffling. His voice was crackly as he patted MK’s shoulders, drawing the boy’s head from his chest. “Hey- Hey, you are- MK? MK right?” he had heard his Daddy say it a few times.
MK gave a rather pitiful nod, feeling so drained from crying. When had he last done this? “Yes… I’m MK.” he patted his chest. Everything felt so sensitive. Like the saturation of a game getting put higher then it ever had before, making it hard to adjust. It was bright, loud… amazing…
Xiaotian smiled, taking MK's hand again and giving it a squeeze. "I'm Xiaotian. But you can call me Xiaoxiao if you want." Every time he seemed to brush away some tears, more seemed to follow, so he opted to push through them with a smile instead. “Wanna play? With me?”
MK nodded eagerly, his own smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah! I wanna play with you, Xiaoxiao." The nickname felt natural on his tongue, as if he'd been saying it all his life. “Is- Is that alright?”
“It’s alright! Baba said yes,” he looked up at his Baba expectantly. He could often get a yes from his Daddy. It was his Baba who was sometimes the tricky one.
With his arms folded, Macaque nodded. They needed a moment to regroup and discuss this whole “MK” situation and what this possibly meant. And yet- when MK looked up at him with those big teary eyes of his- Macaque was struck with nostalgia.
This was a human boy, and yet, for some reason, he thought he was looking at his Mate.
It didn’t make any sense in truth, but MK looked the spitting image of Wukong when he was that age. Lacking in the fur, of course. It was his face that held the similarity. Same nose, same eyes shape, same opened mouthed stare. He looked at Wukong sharply, who hadn’t seemed to notice this.
“Baba?” Xiaotian asked when his parent seemed lost in his comparisons
Macaque cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with Wukong to smile gently at the boys. "Of course it's alright, Sun Spot. You two go have fun.”
Xiaotian's grin widened. He tugged on MK's hand, leading him towards the lush jungle that surrounded their home. "C'mon, I'll show you all my favorite spots! We can climb trees, and dig holes, and look for cool bugs and-" His excited chatter filled the air as the two boys disappeared into the foliage, their laughter echoing in
Macaque called after them, “Be back before sundown for dinner!”
“Otay Baba!” came their son’s chirp in reply.
“Otay, Six Eared Macaque,” MK added in a softer voice.
Xiaotian was distantly grimacing, “Don’t call Baba that. He is Baba.”
“B-But-” MK says. “He is that. The Six Eared Macaque.”
“Nu-uh.”
“Yeah-huh.”
“NU-UH! He is Baba, or Mihou, or MOON.”
“He’s not the moon??” MK says, confused
“My Daddy calls him the Moon! So yes he is!”
They couldn’t see the children anymore, but could still hear them as they took off into the mountain. Wukong was grinning ear to ear as he stared at his Moon, seeing that way Macaque’s tail twisted and he hid a smile behind his hand at how cute to the two boys were together.
“You thinks he’s cute~” He cooed.
“Shh it,” Macaque shakes his head.
As the children's voices faded, Wukong turned to face his mate, "Mihou, did you see that? The way they reacted to each other? It was like..." with a tad more seriousness, he found the whole interaction so curious. He was happy the boys were quick to get along, but their initial meeting was so bizarre.
"Like they already knew each other," Macaque finished, his brow furrowed in thought. It was bizarre. "I've never seen Xiaotian respond to anyone that way before. And the human boy, MK... there's something about him."
“I told you! Just looking at him once and it was like-” Wukong nodded, his own mind racing. "I don’t know how to explain it.”
Macaque was never one to disagree with Wukong’s gut feelings. His mate could peer the very essence of the truth, so of course he believed that something was odd about the child. He just hadn’t expected it to be odd and involving Xiaotian as well. “The child doesn’t seem dangerous.”
Wukong nodded in agreement. "No, he's not dangerous at all. Just a sweet little boy. But there's something special about him, Mihou. I felt it the moment I saw him at the city. It's like he was meant to be part of our lives." he was babbling now, Macaque quick to stop his mind from taking an inch and running a mile with it.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Wukong, we can't just take in a human child on a whim. There are so many things to consider - his upbringing, his education, how he would fit into our world. He is soft and fragile. His life span wouldn’t match ours. He would be at risk from demons and-”
“Xiaotian is also fragile and he is perfectly safe with us.” Wukong tried to disagree. His mate shook his head in return.
“You never let Xiaotian out of your sight because you are so concerned for his safety. Your argument is invalid.”
Wukong's shoulders slumped, knowing Macaque had a valid point. "I know, I know. But did you see how happy Xiaotian was? How they both were? It's like they found a missing piece of themselves in each other."
Macaque's expression softened. "I saw it, peaches. And it warms my heart to see our son so joyful. But we have to think this through carefully. MK has a life in the human world. We can't just uproot him on a feeling, no matter how strong it may be. Can’t just- throw him into a world he’s never known. The city and here- it’s so different. There would be no other humans around here. He might feel…” Macaque rubbed his arm. “Alone.” Then he sharply pointed to Wukong, “Not to mention-” and he made this point clear, “You are talking about adopting him, essentially. Being. His. Parents. That is Huge, Peaches.”
“I-I know-” Wukong was bobbing his head up and down.
“Are you sure?? Because you seemed convinced that was going to be what was happening when you stepped off that cloud a few minutes ago,” Macaque squinted his eyes at him.
They had never talked about having more children before. It was a… a pleasant thought, if Macaque was honest, but should never be just done on a whim. Xiaotian was so sick all the time, with his delicate health requiring their constant care and attention.
Wukong rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. Then he frowned, "I may have gotten a bit ahead of myself," he admitted. "It's just... seeing them together, it felt like it was meant to be.” He says with such certainty as he takes his mate’s hands, “When I'm with MK, it feels right. Like he-” he stepped closer to his love, to his Moon, “He belongs with us. With Xiaotian." Was it truly crazy to think- that there had always been a spot for MK in their lives?
Macaque let out a slow breath, captivated by those eyes for a brief moment. They were so sincere and genuine. He gently touched Wukong's cheek with his hand, "I…” perhaps somewhere in his own chest, something was pounding. Something was screaming for him to listen but… “But we need to think it through carefully, for everyone's sake. Especially MK's and Xiaotian's. We need to think about what's best for that little boy. He's had a tough life in that orphanage.” he didn’t need to see MK long to know that, “We can't just swoop in and change everything overnight. We need to do this right and answer these questions.” false hope, false promises- he would hate to force that on a child.
Wukong's grip loosened, but the intensity of his gaze didn’t waver. He recalled how openly MK stared at passing families during their time in the city. Longingly… “You’re right,” as he always seemed to be. His clever Moon. “How do we- answer this? Do we ask Xiaotian or MK?”
Macaque paused to listen to the boys in the distance. Talking, asking each other questions- learning about each other. They were still technically strangers, even if their meeting seemed more like a reunion. “I’m not sure either of them know what this all is,” he concluded. “Let’s…” he took Wukong’s hand. “Start with a play date and dinner, just as we said.” He concluded. One step at a time. “Give me some time to reach out to Yellow Tusk and the others and understand this. Give us a both a chance to talk to Xiaotian on what is going on in that little head of his.”
Wukong agreed with that plan, squeezing his hand back. After a moment or two, he swung their fingers together. “….” His lips were squiggly, clearly eager to say something but holding himself back.
Macaque frowned, then smirked and quirked an eyebrow, “Say what is on your mind.”
Like a dam Wukong spilled, “He likes to draw Mihou. He’s creative, and is so clever. He writes notes. Notes. Has a little journal he writes his notes and stories- like you did when you were younger.” Of course they used the cave walls since paper wasn’t available sometimes- but when Mihou did learn of human journals and parchement, he was using it none stop.
Macaque lips lifted, curling into an amused smile. It was clear his mate had already formed a strong bond with the human child. "He sounds like a bright little boy," Macaque acknowledged, snorting at the feeling of Wukong’s wagging tail, “I can see why you're so taken with him." It was cute how much Wukong already adored this boy- and how much the King wanted to share that adoration with him.
Wukong grinned, his tail swishing happily. "Just wait until you get to know him more, Mihou. He's got such a curious mind, always asking questions and wanting to learn. Reminds me of a certain someone..." He gave Macaque a playful nudge.
Macaque arched an eyebrow inquisitively and crossed his arms with a smile. "Well then, if he needs some paper, we can provide it," he said, finishing by fixing the bow on Wukong's scarf. He nuzzled their noses together. “Watch those two for me while I investigate a little.”
Wukong leaned into the nuzzle, savoring the tender moment with his mate. "I will, my Moon," he murmured. His voice was a tad softer, "And thank you, for being open to this. I know it's a lot to take in." he shifted his weight a tad.
Macaque’s expression was tender, his fingers lingering on Wukong's scarf. "It is, but I trust your instincts, Peaches. If you feel this strongly about MK, then there must be a reason. We'll figure it out together."
With a final affectionate brush of his tail against Wukong's, he turned, dropping into his shadow.
Wukong's grin grew wider as he gazed off into the distance. He thought about simply keeping an eye on the boys, but where was the enjoyment in that? Mihou didn’t mention any limitations on playing. With a wide grin, he dashed towards the source of the little one’s joyful noises. As he approached, he let out a loud roar.
“Here comes Monkey King!!”
Xiaotian was shrieking, alerted and grabbing MK’s hand. “Run! Daddy’s coming!!!” He motioned for MK to follow, giggling wildly. At first surprised, the human boy glanced back to see Wukong trekking towards them in a dramatic fashion, stomping and flailing as if performing a play.
“Oh!” MK gasped They had enough time to run away, thanks to Wukong's slow and exaggerated movements
“Fee! Fi! Fo! Fum!!”
MK squeaked and took off running with Xiaotian, the two quickly disappearing into the thick woods as the Monkey King followed closely behind.
The King's playful roars echoed behind them, spurring them on faster. "This way!" Xiaotian called, tugging MK's hand as they veered left, ducking under a curtain of vines. They emerged into a small clearing, sunlight filtering down through the canopy in shimmering beams. They ran past a few of the tribe members, who giggled and chirped as they ran. “Hi Taru!” Xiaotian waved as they passed one of the younger guards, who gave a soft smile and waved back to them. He looked curious of MK, but his smile was just as warm.
MK's eyes widened with wonder as they dashed through the jungle, taking in the vibrant colors and exotic plants. He had never seen so many trees before. He had never seen anything like this before - it was like stepping into a storybook.
Xiaotian's hand felt warm and reassuring in his own as they navigated the winding paths together.
"Over here, MK!" Xiaotian called, pulling him behind a large tree trunk. They pressed their backs against the rough bark, trying to stifle their giggles as they heard the Monkey King's exaggerated stomping growing closer.
"Where oh where could my little monkeys be?" the Monkey King called out in a sing-song voice. XIaotian giggled as he leaned into MK, who panted to catch his breath.
My.
MK touched a hand to his chest.
Monkey King said “My” little Monkeys. MK’s heart was swelling, feeling so big he had to remind himself it was a slip of the tongue.
Xiaotian was touching his arm, jolting MK a little. When they locked eyes, MK relaxed, sensing- understanding.
It was like Xiaoxiao could peer into his head and just knew.
No one had ever truly knew or understood him before.
MK grinned. He couldn’t stop grinning and in return, Xiaotian did the same, both covering their mouths to be quiet when Wukong got closer.
His footsteps crunched on the fallen leaves, circling closer to their hiding spot. "I hope they're not... right... HERE!"
With a dramatic leap, the Monkey King landed in front of the tree, arms spread wide. Xiaotian and MK shrieked with delight, scattering in opposite directions as the Monkey King playfully lunged for them.
MK darted to the left, his heart pounding with excitement. He had never played like this before. He brushed his messy bangs out of his face, sprinting as fast as his little legs could carry him. He had only ever played with Mei like this before.
He couldn’t wait to tell her all about this.
This must be his Angel’s doing. He had never met his angel before, only getting tea left for him in the middle of the night, but only goods things had happened since his angel came around.
He must have heard his quiet whisper of wishes every night! He must have!
MK's thoughts were interrupted as strong arms scooped him up from behind, lifting him high into the air. "Gotcha, little one!" the Monkey King exclaimed, his laughter ringing through the jungle.
MK squealed with joy as the Monkey King spun him around, the world becoming a blur of green and gold. When the spinning stopped, MK found himself nestled securely in the Monkey King's arms, gazing up at the legendary hero's face.
"You're fast, Kid," the Monkey King praised, booping the boy's nose. “But, not fast enough to avoid me~ Now where is Xiaoxiao-?” MK giggled, then laughed harder when Xiaotian was jumping down from the trees above with a little battle cry. Smacking against Wukong’s face, the man yelled, “Hey!” Wukong stumbled back, wailing as Xiaotian clung to his face. "Ah! I've been ambushed by my own son!" he exclaimed dramatically, pretending to wobble unsteadily. MK giggled from his perch in Wukong's arms, watching the playful tussle between father and son.
Xiaotian called triumphantly, his tail wrapping around Wukong's neck in a fluffy hold. "I got you, Daddy! Now you have to let MK go!”
"Oh, do I now?" His father paused, body stilling and smirking under Xiaotian’s little hands, half leaning back. “A scamp is trying to steal my victory?
The Monkey Prince look perplexed, but clearly that is how this game worked. “Yes.”
Wukong considered this for a moment, then grinned mischievously. "Well, if you say that then..." With a sudden twist, he flipped Xiaotian over his shoulder, catching the little monkey by the ankle. Xiaotian shrieked with laughter as he dangled upside down, his fur ruffling in the breeze.
“Daddy! You are cheating!” he waved his arms around.
“I am not~” Monkey King sang. “I’m catching a scamp how all scamps need to be caught.”
Xiaotian wiggled, but when he could not escape, he locked eyes with his only hope, "MK! Save me!” He wiggled his arms towards him.
MK gasped, realizing he needed to do something. He looked down, perplexed. The Monkey King’s hold wasn’t too solid, so he carefully slipped jfrom his arm to his shoulder. Wobbly and careful, not even realizing Wukong was giving him plenty of time to do so, he got onto the King’s back. He scrawled across the expanse of it to the other side, dangling from Wukong’s bicep now. This took about 2 minutes, Wukong lips so squiggly as he tried not to laugh and stay serious in face of the boy’s very determined little pouts. “Don't worry Xiaoxiao, I'll save you!" He reached for Xiaoxiao’s hands, trying to pull him from Wukong’s clutches.
Wukong chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he watched the two boys struggle. "Oh no, whatever shall I do against such mighty heroes?" he exclaimed in mock distress.
MK grunted with effort, his small hands gripping Xiaotian's tightly. He yelped as he lost his footing and fell. He would have fallen had Xiaotian not tightened his hold, now dangling precariously from Xiaotian's hands as they both swung from Wukong.
“…Oh, double scamp. Score.” Wukong smirked. Xiaotian giggled uncontrollably at their silly predicament. Wukong shook his head in amusement. "Well, well, looks like I've caught two scamps! I love a good two for one deal.”
Xiaotian glanced down at MK, eyes sparkling with mischief. For a moment, it was like they shared a single brain. Xiaotian’s thoughts as clear as if they were his own. MK held his breath, dazzled as Xiaotian declared, "Together!" With a sudden surge of energy, both boys swung back and forth like pendulums, trying to gain momentum. As they reached their peak, Xiaotian yelled, “Daddy’s weak spot is his neck!”
“Huh?” Wukong blinked dumbly at them as they swung with enough force for little fingers to tickle under his chin.
Before MK’s very eyes, the Monkey King suddenly squealed and recoiled as a high-pitched sound erupted from his throat. "No! No! Not the neck!" he roared playfully, twisting side to side as he tried to evade their tiny fingers.
MK and Xiaotian made one final synchronized push. They surged forward, grasping on tight as they tickled Wukong's neck with all their might. The Monkey King let out an exaggerated cry of surrender, pretending to collapse to his knees in dramatic fashion. "Okay, okay! You win!” he released them.
The boys tumbled together into a heap of laughter, rolling across the forest floor as Wukong dramatically fell back, clutching his neck and groaning like a wounded warrior. "Oh, the betrayal! My own children have turned against me!" he mocked, his voice laced with exaggerated despair.
MK looked up from their tangled pile of limbs with a sharp look of shock. There it was again. It might have meant nothing to the Monkey King- perhaps even a slip of the tongue, but he had just claimed MK as his own again. He didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t dare hope for it, even as the butterflies in his tummy excitedly fluttered.
"We did it, MK!” Xiaotian was pulling him from his thoughts, wrapping his arm around MK’s shoulders in a side hug.
Blinking a few times, MK returned the smile, “W-We did!” they high fived, Wukong watching from the side as he lay “dead” as the two cheered their victory. “I can’t believe it. We defeated the legendary Monkey King!"
"I knew we could!" Xiaotian puffed out his tiny chest, beaming with pride. His eyes gleamed with the thrill of victory and mischief.
“I didn’t.” MK admits, shaking his head. He would never think in his wildest dream he would be here, doing this. It was so wonderful he thought it a dream. “The Monkey King is the strongest ever.”
Wukong’s tail curled a little in delight, then flattened when his son not so kindly snorted, “No Daddy isn’t.”
Gee, thanks Xiaoxiao…
“But-” MK was starting to argue.
“We, are the strongest.” Xiaotian gestured between them. Wukong curiously lifted his head as Xiaotian touched his chest, “Together, there is nothing we cannot do!”
For a moment, a dazzling and striking moment, Wukong’s inhaled sharply, seeing himself in his son. In MK, he saw his Moon. How boldly he had stated the same thing to Mihou so many years ago, and in return Mihou had said the same in his own hour of need. It was their thing- word for word.
He could see them so perfectly within these two younglings. Xiaotian was so much like himself- his face was the spitting image of Mihou, but with Wukong’s tendency for cheeky trickery. A tad reckless, but thankfully with a little more thought to his actions like Mihou tended to have. While MK…
Wukong touched his own face a little.
MK kinda reminded him of himself, just without fur. The face of his younger self. Yet, the child’s mannerisms fell more towards Mihou. Mihou was so well mannered and easy going, a sweet heart able to switch on a dime to defend those he loved with ferocity. He wondered if MK was similar. He felt it was so when he saw that fire in MK’s eyes sometimes.
Exactly how was that so? How did MK seem so much like the two of them? It didn’t make sense.
As Wukong pondered this, the laughter and excitement of the boys faded into a comfortable silence. Xiaotian had flopped onto his back, arms sprawled wide as if he were claiming the earth beneath him, while MK sat cross-legged, a thoughtful frown etching his brow.
“What now?” he inquired curiously.
“I dunno,” xiaotian says.
MK offered, “I could write down some ideas.”
“You can write?” Xiaotian asked. This was typically the age children learned of course, but Xiaotian had fallen rather behind in his studies. He hated school work.
MK on the other hand, adored it. He just wished he didn’t have to miss so much due to being sick.
"Of course I can!" MK said, a hint of pride sneaking into his tone. He pulled out his journal to show his work. Squiggly, with a lot of misspellings, but a lot of dedication to learning the craft. Wukong crawled a bit closer, laying on his stomach before the boys, curiously eyeing his journal. Xiaotian rolled onto his tummy to copy his Daddy, staring. While he himself wasn’t one for actually writing, he could read rather well.
“You do pretty swirls like Baba does.” Xiaotian pointed to it. His writing was more like his Daddy’s. In every sense, actually. In order to try and motivate his son to learn to read and write, Monkey King had also started to learn- despite insisting he would never try a few years prior.
Anything for his kid.
“Oh hey, he does.” Wukong pressed his finger to how MK spelled “Today”, the y so curly and cute. Just like Mihou…
MK's cheeks flushed a soft pink under Wukong's attention. "Thanks! I try really hard," he said, flipping the pages to show off his latest observations from their adventures. Each entry was adorned with little doodles: scribbled images of the skies—clouds shaped like animals and sunsets that dripped into the horizon like spilled paint.
Xiaotian pointed at a drawing of a particularly complex cloud, “What’s this one??”
MK squinted at it before breaking into a grin. “That one’s a cloud monster! It’s made of cotton candy!”
Wukong snickered when Xiaotian clapped. “Oh! I wanna eat cotton candy!” he looked at his Daddy. “What is cotton candy? I thought cotton was um- clothes?”
“Um- sugary candy. Pure sugar.” Wukong explained. Xiaotian’s eyes sparkled and his father poked his nose. “Too much sugar for a scamp like you.”
“Aww,” Xiaotian pouted.
MK tilted his head, finding that curious. So Xiaotian had never eaten cotton candy? He wrote down that note for himself, wondering what other things Xiaotian didn’t know about. Maybe he could teach him.
There were so many things MK couldn’t wait to tell or show Xiaotian. He hoped he would have a lot of time to do so.
“Oh!” Xiaotian giggled when MK flipped the page, pointing to another picture. “It’s Chapu Chu!” He giggled. Wukong leaned curiously to see a doodle MK had made.
To his surprise, it was indeed Chapu Chu.
When his son was born, Mihou had prepared a little gift for him. A monkey doll that Xiaotian had adored ever since. He had proudly called it Chu, later on calling it Chapu Chu, to give it a full name.
It could be coincidence, but this doodle was very clearly intended to be a doodle of a doll, with stitches and everything. “Why do you-?” Wukong pointed to it. “Why did you draw this?” How did MK know what it looked like?
MK stared at it and then Wukong, “I dreamed about it.” He says.
“Dreamed?” Wukong inquired. The boy nodded, fiddling with his pencil.
“I dream a lot of things.” Many things that didn’t make sense.
Wukong opened and closed his mouth. What did that mean? What did any of this mean?? Unsure, Xiaotian was cooing-
“I dream too!” Though, certainly not the same things MK did.
As the children giggled, MK grabbing a few more pencils so they could doodle together.
Wukong quietly watched.
What a strange, but wonderful boy….
——————
When Macaque returned later to check in on everything, the mountain had been very quiet. Alert at once, he listened intently for the sound of his mate. Hearing his heart beat, he followed the sound. It was slow, steady- the way it only was when…
When he found Wukong, it turned out his husband was asleep. He found everyone, Wukong and the kids, collapsed below a shady tree.
Wukong lounged with one arm behind his head, snorting in amusement. His other arm stretched out to the side, with two little boys cuddled against it, resting their heads on his bicep. Holding hands as they slumbered.
Macaque stilled, the sight as sweet as the peaches on the trees above them. Quietly stepping closer he knelt before them. “So much for watching them. You fell right to sleep.,” he mused, poking Wukong’s velvety nose. He reached out, brushing back a bit of Wukong’s bangs.
Wukong grunted, twitching lightly at the touch but not waking. Instead, he let out a soft sigh, blissfully unaware of Macaque’s presence. The boys stirred just slightly, Xiaotian mumbling in his dreams as he snuggled closer to Wukong, giving the same soft sigh.
Macaque smiled, warmth unwinding in his chest . It was a sight that never failed to bring him joy—their little family nestled against the sunlit grass, unaware of the world beyond their peaceful cocoon. He remembered when it had just been him and Wukong, wild and free, dreaming of someday building a life together, filled with laughter and little adventures.
He felt a gentle tug at his heartstrings as he reached out again, brushing his fingers down Xiaotian’s cheek, soft as the petals of spring blooms. “Awake or asleep, my little troublemaker- oh how perfect you are.” he whispered, kissing his forehead. Taking his scarf off to drape it over Xiaotian, he hesitated for a moment.
He looked at MK, considering the human boy. Quietly, he reached his hand out. He didn’t know what compelled him to do so…
He liked all children, but he was never too affectionate with any he didn’t know. Yet, he found himself brushing aside MK’s bangs.
A flicker of warmth blossomed in Macaque's chest, just as he'd always felt for Wukong and Xiaotian; this was something new- yet something so familiar. He was enamoured, softly caressing MK’s cheek as he had done with his own cub- like MK was his.
Who… was this cub?
What was this tightening feeling in his chest? A blissful pain was the best way he could describe it. It made his heart ache. Not sure what else to make of this, he quietly draped his scarf over both boys, ensuring they were warm below this shade.
Leaning back, he watched the three of them quietly.
None of this made sense.
Still… it was a beautiful day, and these three who danced and played in the sun, were the very embodiment of everything he had ever wanted and more. So he let his concerns settle for now.
349 notes · View notes
bunnyclawzz · 17 days ago
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Can you do more hyperfem reader x Mohawk mark??
Yesyesyes!! I lovee mohawk Mark so much, I might make this a little series😋
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Opposites!
Mohawk Mark x Hyperfem!reader
Going shopping with you would be a full-time job to anyone who wasn't him. He never got bothered when you would ask to go. Yeah, he had those snarky little comments, but her never actually meant any of them
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"Maarrkk? Can you come to the mall wi-" he didn't even let you finish asking for his company before he cut you off in a rude yet affectionate way. "Stop asking me like I'm ever gonna let you go alone. The hell do you even need from there anyways?" he questioned without even looking up from his phone. His response had a warm grin blossoms onto your face, the kind of smile that he could tell was there without needing to turn to check. A soft hum leaves your glossed lips before you reply. "Wanna get new clothes for spring. Maybe early summer shoppin' too. Maybe we can get some for you too!' you'd offer all enthusiastically as if you were the one paying for any items. He turns his head to face you, raising an eyebrow at you with a slanted head "..Sure. Whatever you pick, princess" he spoke, purposely using the nickname that always made you feel all warm inside and out.
Just like clockwork, each and every time you were shopping with him he would follow you around like a stray dog. He'd carry whichever drink you had chosen for the warm afternoon-weather it's a iced soda, a boba tea, or an overly sugared iced coffee, it's in his hand while you wander around whichever shop caught your attention first. "Hmm.." you buzz softly, eyes scanning around for just a moment. Your soft hand takes his rough and hard-skinned one to lead him into a store that makes him look like an action figure stuck into a dollhouse.
"Mark," you began as you lifted a lacy pink baby doll top up into his view "do you like this?" you questioned as your free hand ran along the pastel fabric. He had no time to respond before you continued on with the questions. "Or do you like the yellow one better? Oh-they have blue! You like blue, right?" He couldn't hold back the big smile that plastered across his face as you trailed on and on about the colors of the tops that had your attention. "I do like blue, yeah, but you shouldn't just get something 'cause it's a color I like" You're silent for a few seconds, clearly up in your head thinking about something. After just another second you click your tongue and shake your head, you voice coming out like the curb of a morning bird. "Nope!" You said, popping the 'p' in the word as you set the pink top down and reached for the French blue colored one instead, "Already got an outfit for it planned in my head." He chuckles at your words. His hand reaches out to take the top, holding it up to your body in attempt to get a visual. "Yeah? Can't wait to see it on" He said in a low murmur as he eyed you up.
Just around an hour into the trip you had your own drink in hand, sipping contently as your boyfriend followed you around whilst carrying all your shopping bags, all full of items purchased by him. Store after store, changing room after changing room and giving endless input and compliments and watching you swatch an endless amount of lippies only to buy you one new lipstick and a new mascara tube-how could he not spoil you? You're the one thing in his life that is absolutely perfect in and out, he has to treat you as what you are. "Princess," he began with a soft sigh, "Come on, we're sitting at the food court for a minute. Just the sound of those shoes tells me they're uncomfortable" he said as he gestured to the open-toed kitten heels on your feet. He barely let your brain process the words, just quick to take you by the wrist and tug you to the first open seats he could find.
"Alright," he spoke again, "I"m getting you a burger and fries. Do you want a new drink?" You didn't respond for a few seconds. Your eyes got glued to him, admiring him and all he does for you for just a few seconds before you answered. "...get me a lemonade?" "Got it" he said as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. "I'll be right back, just sit and rest your feet for a few minutes."
Upon meeting Mark, the weirdo-punk with the spiky mohawk and short temper, you never thought you'd like him, let alone date him. You would've never dreamt that being paired with said weirdo would lead to you being treated like royalty and being absolutely spoiled rotten whenever he could. Can’t help but adore his very unlikely girlfriend
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jaeminvore · 2 years ago
Text
BLUR. | N.JM (M)
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SYNOPSIS: Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face and hungover was one thing. Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face, hungover and in a bed that wasn’t your own in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that were obviously not yours, was another and a punishment specifically made for you—your own personal hell.
CONTENT WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. dub-con, Jaemin’s a freak and a little fucked in the head, afab!reader, (ex)boyfriend’s best friend, sex under the influence of alcohol, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), sex-tapes, nudes (but make it artsy), face/throat-fucking, dirty-talk, mild possessiveness, mild obsession, smidge of fluff surprisingly, voyeurism and exhibitionism (kinda?), open-ended.
WORD COUNT: 7.5K
note: first of all, happy birthday to one of my favorite leos, Jaemin 💖 idk how many times i’ve looped the song but i think it was enough for me to come up with a fic inspired by it 💀 originally, this was supposed to be posted sooner but hey! Better late than never! Heed the warnings i beg if you don’t like the sound of this then please, you are absolutely free to click off! Other than that, please enjoy the filth ~
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“You’re every single thing that I deserve. Maybe that’s too boring. ‘Cause I might say some thing you’ve never heard. Like I did last night, what a blur.” — Blur by Lolo Zouaï
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You
hyuck
oh my fucking god HYUCK
WAKE UP
haechan
ugh woman WHA T
You
HELP
haechan
?? are you dying
wait where did you even go last night?
i didnt see u anywhere after like
well i dont remember
You
home
haechan
.
ok how tf am i gonna help with that
You
but its not MY home
and im pretty sure i slept with whoever took me here
haechan
😟
i’ll be at ur place
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“Jesus—the guy try to eat you or something?”
You winced, covering the marks left by whoever fucking psycho thought they were a vampire.
Seriously, was all that really necessary? Leaving obvious bite marks and bruises to the point it looked like an animal attempted to maul you beyond recognition? Anyone with a functioning brain would obviously veto that idea in a heartbeat. Anyone with a modicum of chivalry could have stopped themselves from making your neck look like it did.
You were a contributing member to society and the thought of facing endless questions about your otherwise wild night out, at work of all places, was mortifying enough as it is. You had places to be. You had people to meet. 
One of those ‘people you had to meet’ happened to be Donghyuck. A constant presence in your day-to-day life and was essentially your best friend. Your ride or die. There should be some bias for one another when it comes to this friendship built from finding each other in bathrooms of college parties with either one’s head stuck in the toilet bowl.
You’ve literally seen each other at your worst, but Donghyuck was a Gemini first through and through. You weren’t one to succumb to the belief of stereotypes, yet Donghyuck proudly wore being two-faced like a badge of honor. He was your best friend, but he was also your worst enemy and never would he miss the opportunity in making you squirm underneath the palpable judgment swimming side-by-side with the curiosity alight in his eyes.
“Does it look that bad?” you asked quietly, just as curious, but leaning more towards your own reassurance.
The loud, grating laughter he let spill past his lips was enough to tell you that, yeah, it’s pretty gnarly and the likelihood of you getting some weird looks was at a moderate high.
“All I’m saying is—” he said then cleared his throat, “—is you’re gonna have to like, use half a tube of your best concealer.” he jeered, taking his time to assess the damage with an amused twitch of his lips before picking up the remote.
Case in point.
Although Donghyuck spoke the truth and nothing but the truth, that didn’t stop you from flicking his ear in retaliation as the last thing you wanted to ruin your mood was Donghyuck’s super helpful (read: useless) input. As if he was any better. You couldn’t count the number of times he found himself in ‘sticky’ situations that even the most promiscuous of people would cover their mouths, scandalized at the many many recounts of (questionable) conquests of getting his dick wet as many times as he could.
(That’s not to say you were completely innocent. Your sexual appetite was at a healthy mid to high. Donghyuck was just shameless. You, on the other hand, were not).
The wounded noise from Donghyuck went ignored as you stood up, stretched your arms up high and headed to the kitchen to get something into your empty stomach.
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Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face and hungover was one thing.
Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face, hungover and in a bed that wasn’t your own in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that were obviously not yours, was another and a punishment specifically made for you—your own personal hell. A thing to note was the sweatpants were from a brand that you haven’t even heard of. Ever. Either this guy’s a fashion snob, or he’s filthy fucking rich, though something in you persisted that he was probably the latter.
No. Scratch that. It’s a hundred percent the latter.
You’ve been here before. Sober during those very few times, to be frank, and you desperately wished that you didn’t know who lived in this pretentiously decorated bachelor’s pad.
You thought waking up in a stranger’s bed was bad? Try waking up in your ex-boyfriend’s best friend’s bed with no recollection of what happened last night. Trying to remember was proven useless when the memories were all but blurry, flashing images you couldn’t for the life of you sharpen with the power of your mind—that was still recovering from the hangover—alone.
It really wasn’t the best morning. It was arguably one of the worst.
Seeing one of his cats perched on top of the highest point of the cat tower in the far corner of the bedroom was already a bad omen in and of itself, slanted eyes locked on your every move and she (you had a faint idea that this was one of his girls) even followed you to the bathroom! Which, okay, wasn’t that awful considering she hadn’t meowed or hissed at you in warning (yet).
All the cat did was hop onto the marble counter of Jaemin’s bathroom, sat back primly and watched you get rid of the accumulated grime on your face before going crazy with the array of skincare the man had out in the open. It was really his fault for leaving you unattended.
Speaking of Jaemin, he was nowhere to be found.
There were no signs of him even as you padded into the wide expanse of the living area. No signs of life in the kitchen either aside from the two other cats Jaemin had in his care and strangely enough, they too didn’t seem to be alarmed by your presence. You’ve only been here a few times with your then boyfriend, Jeno. Played with them a little too. Maybe the cats had sharper memories than you gave them credit for.
All of that aside, Jaemin’s absence was a huge relief on your part. Being drunk five margaritas in around him was embarrassing though still salvageable by a brief but genuine apology. Conversing with him was rare, sure, but the few conversations with him were adequate for you to lump him with one of the good ones.
Yet.
Yet.
This—being in your ex-boyfriend’s best friend’s fucking apartment of all places—felt like there was more to what you initially thought could have happened that made you stay the night.
It’s been so long since you’ve last seen your ex, much less Jaemin, as he wasn’t exactly one to go out as often, but your alcohol-addled brain had momentarily lost its grasp on the supposed built-in survival instinct that you let yourself get whisked away by him. 
Possibly let him have his way with you (in your drunken haze) as you thought back to the mild soreness in between your legs.
Whatever the possibilities were, you had no luxury to narrow them down right now. Not when you had bigger problems.
You had to get out of here. Fast.
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“Holy shit.”
Was what you heard the very second the grilled cheese and bacon sandwich you planned on sharing was placed on the plate.
At first, you didn’t think much of Donghyuck’s exclamation. Dramatics were his thing and you were used to being subjected to them so often that you barely blinked when Donghyuck followed it up with a sharp gasp. You were just about to write it off as ‘none of your business’—unlike Donghyuck who made sure to make his business everyone else’s—when what he said next made you pause.
“Y/N, you have got to see this.”
Now adding you to the mix got your attention. Picking up the urgent yet intrigued intonation from Donghyuck’s demand was enough to put brunch on the back burner as you rushed back to the small living area. The TV was put on mute. It was the first detail you noticed before pinning your gaze onto your best friend still on the couch and you immediately knew something was wrong with the way his shoulders almost touched his ears from sitting too stiffly.
Donghyuck had your phone in his hand when you sat down beside him which wasn't exactly new to you. He somehow figured out your pass-code (“it was your birth date,” Donghyuck clarified. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. What do you have against Face ID anyway?”) and you couldn’t find the energy to change it. It wasn't like you had anything to hide. You lived a pretty uneventful life, completely juxtaposing with whatever he had going on at his end, so you didn’t really mind the nosiness.
One look at his face, however, made you reconsider the leniency towards your privacy.
Donghyuck had this innate talent of pissing off people by his many facial expressions alone. He looked like the cat that ate the canary; probably planning on swallowing it down with cream to egg you on further and you just know whatever he had to say—or show in this case—was bound to raise your blood pressure to new heights.
“What,” it was meant to be a question, and the annoyance that managed to creep into the mono-syllable was amusing enough to Donghyuck that the annoying grin grew into almost splitting his face in half.
You rolled your eyes so hard that you wondered why you weren’t stuck staring at your brain from how often you did this at his expense. “Seriously, what?”
Donghyuck silently handed your phone over, still looking like the devil’s incarnate that it was almost an eerie resemblance, yet you still humored him.
You soon found that there was no humor in this situation.
All the budding annoyance had come to a screeching halt the moment your phone found its rightful home in your grasp.
From your abysmal screen-time, you should be used to its lightness, yet the device felt heavier than it should. It was like having the weight of the world in your palms and what’s worse, you could feel your blood running cold in real time as you peered down at the small screen leering right back at you, taunting you.
What greeted you was the opened camera roll that somehow accumulated pictures upon pictures of you stripped down to your most promiscuous state of undress. The sight was daunting to say the least that some crazed part of you thought your phone had become sentient; goading you with each flick of your thumb to scroll through them, further stripping you of your modesty. As if it was a digital flip book of yourself, illustrating you and one of you rare conquests of hunting down warm body to fuck around with.
The sheer amount of them was almost laughable, just imagining the person on the other side of the lens doing their absolute damnedest in making sure no small detail was out of place; that you came out debauched, yet still gorgeous enough to overlook the depravity of their nature.
You weren’t sure if this could be compared to nudes. Not when there were some traces of artistry behind each photo that if you were less than sane, you would have your thanks at the ready for making the vision—whatever it was—come alive with an iPhone camera.
There was a joke begging to be voiced out somewhere. A joke your best friend would immensely appreciate knowing it was centered around you and your bad decisions, however, that thought was quickly forgotten when something else caught your eye.
A video. Videos, you’ve come to find out as you scrolled further. Almost never ending with the amount that it was overwhelming compared to that of the photos lacking depth and movement.
The state of the thumbnails didn’t help ease the heavy feeling in your gut either.
Each and every single one of them could very well belong on the number of porn platforms you were vaguely aware of. They left nothing to the imagination where you could just tell what obscenities you—namely drunk you—were up to despite having no recollection of this ever happening. Just how much alcohol did you let in your system that you blacked out the entire night? This was one of the many mysteries that will continue to haunt you unless you get some clarity soon.
It would be a lie if you said you weren’t the least bit curious of your own drunken thought process (you were still processing what you were seeing, actually) and it was obvious your best friend was just as curious, impatiently so that he snatched your phone back, chose one form the myriad of video clips and pressed play, all under a second or two.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Donghyuck earned an elbow to his side for his haste, but all he did was shush you and moved the phone closer for a better view. As if an almost seven-inch screen could grant a cinematic experience, but you’ll take what you could get.
“There you go.”
And there you go, body locking up the moment the awfully familiar, deep and roughened voice came out of the phone’s speakers.
A simple sentence spoken with a cadence so sluggish that you had to fight hard to remind yourself that he didn’t always sound like he was forcing you to unravel with his words alone. Jaemin just had this peculiar habit of putting half the effort into enunciating his words almost to the point where he sounded lazy and you assumed it was the alcohol that made this habit of his more pronounced than ever.
The alcohol turned him into someone, hell, some otherworldly being that the more you heard him speak, the likelihood of a blood vessel popping due to how wound up you’ve progressively become was at a high. It was downright ridiculous how instantaneous the effect was, and what followed would soon have you internally begging to be smite by God himself.
“It took you three tries to swallow me down without gagging.” Though you couldn’t see him, there was, no doubt, a smile on his face, listening to his delivery alone. All sharp and condescending that you couldn’t help but wince at the immediate reboot of your brain where you could vividly imagine the scrape of his teeth along your throat—specifically the places bruised with the indents; marks of his canines being the most prominent.
At least you got to confirm just who the ‘wild animal’ was behind the damage to your neck, yet you still couldn’t map the exact thought process justifying Jaemin’s carelessness.
“You’re that eager to please, aren’t you?”
Jaemin sounded like he was demanding an immediate answer, but there was just one problem.
He wasn’t going to get anything from you. How can he when his cock restricted you from talking? The most he was going to get was a series of garbled noises, just like the wet squelches from fucking into your mouth.
“Of course you are. I can see why Jeno kept you around for as long as he could.” Jaemin chuckled, moving his hand from where it previously rested on top of your head to cup your jaw. “Feeling full, huh?” and you could hear how smug he was, laughing quietly when all you could do was whine when his fingers tightened their grip on your bulging cheeks, no doubt wanting the wet heat of your mouth to squeeze around his dick tighter, or feel how imposing his size was for the sake of his ego.
“I could barely fit in your mouth a moment ago,” the groan he let out was deep from within his chest, guttural as if he was fighting to keep himself controlled while bullying himself deeper into your willing (?) throat until you gagged around his girth, shaky hands scrambling to find purchase on his thighs as if to keep yourself grounded. “Now here you are, taking it like it’s nothing. Like you were made for this. All you needed was a little push, didn’t you, baby?”
It took real talent to come off as an asshole through voice alone, and Jaemin was nothing short of talented. He really did fit the narrative. It’s always the ones with the (admittedly) pretty faces that have something to hide under the false pretense of pleasantry, and it just so happened that the ‘thing’ Jaemin wanted to keep under wraps was how much of a scheming freak he actually was.
Back then, you were just part of the majority who was ignorant to what lies underneath. Now here you are, experiencing Jaemin’s depraved fantasies first hand.
You should have known. The signs were quite literally there with the way he looked at you all night before you were consumed by the effects of alcohol. Even in the sea of people crowding the club, you‘ve managed to catch the intensity swirling in the darkness of his eyes stuck on you no matter where you ended up.
Jaemin was there. In the corners. In the shadows. Jaemin was everywhere. Watching and waiting to strike.
That thought alone should have been enough to unsettle you right to your very core, yet all it did was raise questions. Tons of them, considering this had been going on before you even got together with your then boyfriend, Jeno. You had thought that perhaps Jaemin had harbored some type of protectiveness over you seeing you got to know him first, but your prior naivety didn’t let you think much on it further. Not when you were swept up by the sweeter than sweet smiles and soon entranced by a pair of eyes that put the winking moon to shame.
Nevertheless Jaemin still kept a watchful eye, bid his time carefully and now that his best friend was out of the picture, perhaps it was the perfect time to strike.
And that he did, leaving the photos and videos behind in his wake.
“Jaemin?” Donghyuck hissed, completely ignoring the obscene noises blasting from your phone on full volume because apparently he wasn’t immersed enough with it half-way up. Where your apartment provided decent acoustics to amplify the sound. “Jaemin Na? Your ex's best friend? That Jaemin?”
You held your face in shame and groaned, trying to make it seem like you weren’t the least bit affected by Jaemin’s own mix of pleasured sounds going hand-in-hand with your muffled desperation. “Say ‘Jaemin’ one more time and I’ll punch you in the throat.” Your face was hot to the touch and you didn’t want to know just what you looked like to Donghyuck.
The memory of last night was faint, yes, but it did overwhelm you all the same to the point where you were starting to tear up from sheer embarrassment.
Donghyuck, ever so keen, caught the sign of distress and composed himself. “You were with Jaemin last night?” He asked, whispering.
“Oh, I don’t know,” you answered, sarcasm weighing heavily on each syllable as you aimed your grimace towards the video still playing (seriously, how long was it?). “Is that just my face deep-faked onto some poor random girl? You tell me.”
His pleased expression twisted at the snark, lips parting to refute you with the same vitriol until a rather loud, impossibly hard to ignore moan tore through the impending tension.
Both of you looked down just in time for Jaemin to pull out of your abused mouth with a wet, disgusting sound and lord, not only did he have an impressive size, his dick was pretty too. Pretty in a way it shouldn’t be, but it’s like Jaemin was solely born to go against what one should expect in men and their anatomy, which wasn’t much to begin with, let’s be real. Guess the universe did have its favorites and what misfortune it was that it had to be you stuck with one of them. Literally.
It was like a sick punishment pushed onto you, being faced with the harsh truth of Jaemin having his reasons backed up and giving him free reign to act and talk like he was the shit. His hands were just as big as everything about him from his stature to his personality. Made it seem like his cock was nothing to gawk at until you—you in the video—shuffled closer, having it stand ramrod straight right in front of your face.
As if the Jaemin in the video heard you, he laughed as he brought the camera closer to his cock and your face in tandem. You could tell he was getting close, the labored breaths and jostling of the footage were obvious signs amidst the borderline frantic strokes.
“Open up, sweetheart,” he grunted, tapping your puffy lips with his cockhead. “and stick your tongue out for me, will you—yeah. That’s good. Perfect. You’re perfect—fuck!” 
Thick ropes of pearly white painted your face as Jaemin let out a loud, drawn-out moan, forcing more out with rough strokes and most of it shooting into your awaiting mouth. You kept your eyes open for the entirety of it in spite of the obscene amount of cum dripping from your cheeks, nose and even an eyebrow. In fact, there was so much of it that even Donghyuck voiced his own astonishment right when you swallowed, only to pry your lips open once more and leave Jaemin to milk himself until the very last drop, not letting any of it go to waste.
It seemed you did good with the forethought, Jaemin making his appreciation known with a soft coo as if he wasn’t spouting filth while you were literally gagging for it.
God, you looked absolutely destroyed.
And eerily enough, sex-tape!Jaemin finished off the thought with a breathy, “you’ve never looked better.”
Inky tear-tracks of your mascara marred what was once the smoothed canvas of your face. You took much care in making sure your makeup was almost flawless and it was a shame that Jaemin thought the complete opposite and decided that smearing your lipstick along your mouth with a gross mix of your spit, tears and his cum was much more entertaining—as if this was all just a sick game to him; a game of how long would it take to strip you off of your dignity by making a mess out of you. Twice.
“Fuck. You look…” Jaemin trailed off as he held you by the jaw, damp skin easily caving underneath his fingertips to keep you in place and took his time to admire his masterpiece. It was deceptively tender, the way he went about tilting your head from side-to-side that just as you thought this was where the humiliation ended, realizing the extent of what you had done last night, the debauched version of you decided to speak.
“How—how do I look?” You slurred. Round, glazed up eyes peering up in earnest and that was all it took for Jaemin to let your phone tumble from his grasp in favor of hauling you up. The footage was all sorts of skewed, but by some odd law of physics involved, it made sure to show how Jaemin went in for a kiss that was all sorts of messy and heated, not minding the fact that he could taste himself with every push of your tongue against his.
He pulled back just for a moment, letting out a breathy chuckle and the last thing you heard before the video saw its end was a hoarse, “beautiful. Gorgeous. Unreal. Mine,” before it stopped and jumped back to show its thumbnail.
You let the both of you marinate in the silence that followed afterwards, with you gathering your wits as your worst half gently placed your phone down onto the coffee table.
“Oh my god.” you settled on saying, completely mortified.
“Oh my god.” Donghyuck repeated, sounding all too gleeful.
It almost looked like Donghyuck was impressed with what happened in the past five minutes when you slowly turned to face each other. “Wow,” he drawled, immediately raising your hackles at the god-awful sight of his self-righteous smirk. “and I thought I was the slut between us two.”
“Oh, you still are,” you bit back, not letting him get the upper-hand. “Three people in one night? I’m surprised your dick’s still attached to you.” or that he didn’t contract an STD for that matter, but small miracles could be given to anyone, you supposed. Even to a menace.
“You know what they say, the ‘s’ in slut stands for ‘safe’!”
“Literally no one has said that.”
“I literally just did.”
You dead-panned. “Get out.”
“You’re so boring,” he whined, getting up to head to the kitchen to probably gobble up the grilled sandwich you had made. “Well,” the muffled continuation said just as much. “maybe not since you fucked your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. Who would have thought you’d let Jaemin hit?”
You whirled around to glower at him, half for eating what was yours and half at his disguised jeering. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Y/N, I’m a dude,” he said slowly, like you were stupid. Maybe you were. “We can tell when a guy is interested.”
“You think Jaemin’s into me?”
Donghyuck’s initial reaction was to arch an eyebrow as he paused mid-chew, again, as if he could not believe you were this slow on the up-take. It was starting to piss you off, honestly, that he knew something you didn’t and was just waiting for you to piece everything together.
“You couldn’t tell?” He only gets an unimpressed stare to get on with it which he shrugged at. “Nevermind, you were too busy making googoo eyes at Jeno to pay attention. That worked at least, ‘cause soon enough, you were hanging off of his arm.”
You huffed, conceding with a roll of your eyes. “Fine. You got me there.”
Donghyuck scoffed, “‘course I do. Seriously though, we thought that you’d end up with Jaemin. He’s usually straight-forward with things like this, but since Jeno was there… well, y’know, bro-code or whatever the fuck.” He took a generous bite from the sandwich before placing it back down on the plate and dusting his hands from the crumbs. “Thing is though, he never really stopped looking at you? I’m sure you know how shameless he is with staring.”
Knew? You’ve caught him staring a handful times in the past and his shamelessness knew no bounds either. Not once did Jaemin appear remotely embarrassed meeting your eyes as he would smile each time, hold the eye contact for longer than what you would deem appropriate before moving his eyes elsewhere, and you knew that in no time, his gaze would be burning holes into your back again.
You’ve grown used to it anyway. It was strange, yes, but Jaemin never really did anything beyond what could make you uncomfortable. Even Jeno laughed it off when it was casually brought up during your past conversations, not really bothered by his best friend’s odd quirk.
“I can’t blame him,” you remembered him saying. “You’re really beautiful. I’d probably consider looking at you as one of my favorite past-times.” and safe to say, you did appreciate the comment, and Jeno definitely appreciated the soul-sucking blowjob you gave him if the strings of praises tangled with the ‘I love you’s’ were anything to go by.
None of that was relayed to Donghyuck though. Your knowledge on the matter wasn’t his business, nor did you think it was that of a big deal. So what if your ex-boyfriend’s best friend liked to keep his eyes on you? That didn’t mean anything. Just like what happened last night didn’t mean anything. It didn't have to mean anything.
It was a one-time thing and you were certain that it’ll take the Earth’s revolution around the sun to see him again. Perhaps never, if you played your cards right.
And watching your own sex-tape (accidental, or not) with Donghyuck won’t happen ever again when you made the mistake of trailing your eyes downwards.
You were very far from impressed, scowling at him. “I can see your dick through your pants, Hyuck. You’re gross.”
He at least had the decency to appear sheepish from you pointing out his body’s reaction. “Oh don’t like you weren’t the least bit turned on from that too.”
You flipped him off with both hands, face burning. 
Donghyuck cackled and then waved you over to finish half of the sandwich.
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Clearly, there was something in you that refused to see the bigger picture.
You couldn’t help it. You weren’t exactly one to get swept up in the assumptions made by you or the other people in your life that had their rare times of indulging the delusions that came hand-in-hand with them. And that’s all they were. Harmless assumptions and delusions that would be forgotten by the end of the day. Sooner, if you could help it.
So why were you sitting in the middle of your bed, obsessively scrolling through the videos taken from last night?
Perhaps you could blame it all on the insatiable curiosity that never really left even as Donghyuck said his farewell an hour or so ago.
Jaemin’s motive for filming last night’s drunken rendezvous was still—is still—no doubt, a mystery. Starting from why did he use your phone? It would have made much more sense if he used his. There was the possibility that it might have been his phone and had the forethought of airdropping everything to you for reasons unknown, but with a quick check of the details, nope. It was yours. Jaemin’s phone model was the newest one on the market, while yours was at least two years due for an upgrade, pretty much debunking your theory.
Which landed you in this position, looking through your camera roll for any hints that could shed light on his possible motives. Anyone who would find themselves in this dilemma had every reason to be angry. It was normal to feel outraged going through what you did last night and you could only pray to whatever higher being was up there that no one else knew what went on and if Jaemin had his own duplicates.
But—well. Anger was far from what fueled all this. Confusion more like and it only grew when you skimmed through the videos until one caught your eye.
This time, it was you holding the phone, your grasp being significantly shakier, but Jaemin didn’t mind. Not when he was rather preoccupied with his head stuck in between your quivering thighs, eating you out to his heart’s content. No, really. It was like he made it his life’s mission to give you the best head of your life with the way you were letting out a cacophony of pleasured sounds to which Jaemin looked particularly proud off, evident with the way he was leering at you through the screen.
Jaemin had always come off as intimidating with his looks alone; a soft but angular face with strong eyebrows framing the dark pits of his eyes and a smile full of perfect white teeth so wicked it could even put the devil to shame if he tried harder. It was common to be put-off by his intensity at first. He had always sought out to give off a strong impression, but it wouldn’t be long before he opened up, gracing everyone with the sweet side of him.
And sweet he was, with the way he was looking at you with the mess of saliva and your wetness coating his lips and chin. Even the tip of nose was dripping of it, yet you thought he was absolutely breathtaking that the dazzling smile did nothing but make him so much more.
They say that eyes are the window to the soul. That you can guess what was going through someone’s head if you dare peer into them longer. It was purely for the sake of uncovering answers on your part, but you weren’t sure if that was what you were searching for anymore.
He was doing unspeakable things to you, yes. That much was apparent with his mindless slurping and the pleased moans reverberating when you so much as tugged at his hair, or squeezed his head with your thighs. It’s like he was getting off from you getting off and it was all sorts of filthy when a dollop of his spit caught onto your clit just for the sake of it.
But his eyes were telling the complete opposite of his ministrations. Dark as they were, they held something soft in them. Gentle. Tender—dare you say it, enamored. Completely taken by how you were blatantly using him, rutting against that sinful tongue while simultaneously fucking yourself onto his thick fingers as he did the absolute most to match the desperate pace you were setting to chase your release.
The soft spoken praises fell so easily from his mouth. Slickened lips covering your inner thighs with kisses and gentle, teasing nips as he spoke sweet-nothings that were no less still filthy, yet his eyes still remained the same. Darkened even more with his blown out pupils, but the softness remained swimming in those endless pits of coffee brown sweeter than its bitter aftertaste; warm when Jaemin graced you with a lipped smile.
Even as Jaemin had you face down and ass up, the warm glow in his gaze stayed. Hips slammed into you with reckless abandon that with each push, you hiked higher and higher up his sheets that you had to hold onto his headboard to keep yourself in place. You assumed the phone was placed somewhere on his end table for the clear view, or else you wouldn’t be able to see the warmth light up his face too.
It’s truly a wonder how you were able to witness how easy his emotions took over his features. More so when he took it upon himself to manhandle you on your back, then did you see how easily Jaemin shed that hardass exterior of his.
That didn’t mean he had let up though, oh no. He was still rough with his treatment as you watched his hand come down onto your thigh with a loud smack before pushing at the back of your knees and until your thighs were pressed against your chest to fuck you deeper, harder, now that he raised one leg to get more leverage.
Jaemin graced you with a cruel smirk when you cried out from a pointed jerk of his hips. “Imagine how fucking pissed I was when Jeno snatched you up before I did.” That was news to you and it was more shocking that the man admitted it himself just as you were about to piece things together. “I saw you first. I befriended you first—fuck, I thought I made it obvious that I wanted you.” You could only let out a helpless mewl when he slowed down to scowl at you. “We’re friends, right?”
When you didn’t answer right away, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “Answer me, sweetheart. While I’m still nice enough to give you what you want.”
“Yes,” you sobbed, holding onto his wrist and you were exactly sure if drunk you wanted to keep it there or not. “We’re friends.”
Jaemin smiled something mean, “then how come I was the last to know that you chose Jeno over me?”
“I didn’t know—“
“You didn’t know? I’ve—” he cuts himself off with an incredulous laugh. “Right, how silly of me. You were too busy giving Jeno your attention.” Jaemin leaned in closer. “Maybe I should send this to him,” he mused, gesturing towards the phone with his head. “How’s that sound?” And humiliate yourself even further? You would rather die a painless death.
“No! Please no!” You could see yourself struggle, yet Jaemin with his sheer size and strength had no problem in keeping you pinned down.
“Why not? It’s not like you’re together or anything. Will it be that humiliating for you? There’s no reason to be, not when you're this gorgeous. Nothing wrong with being a slut either.”
“I’m—I’m not.”
“Oh yes you are, baby. You let me fuck you, didn’t you? Your ex’s best friend? Showing him all this could make him realize why he wasn’t able to keep you. Jeno didn’t know what you wanted. He didn’t know what you needed either. Me? I could give you both and more.” He sounded so sure about it. Looked sure about it too as he picked up the pace and settled on a brutal rhythm, punching more moans out of you. “All you have to do is just ask for it.”
“You’re fuh—fu—cking crazy,” was all you could say. It seemed you were starting to get light headed with how Jaemin still had a tight grip around your neck. Like a necklace choker that won't ever come off.
“I know I am, sweetheart, but don’t worry. I wasn't being serious. I’d kill anyone who sees you like this,” It was a threat and a promise all molded into one and hearing that strangely made your heart skip a beat. His face was drawn into something serious and darkened when he said, “Jeno included. He had his chance and he fucked all that to hell, but me? I’m not making the same mistake.”
The footage kept on rolling after Jaemin spilled into the condom, just a few seconds after you knocked out-cold from what seemed to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had—not that you could remember—in your life. Kept on rolling as he kissed your forehead before getting up to cleanup in the en suite. And rolled, and rolled, and rolled.
You were fully convinced that your one-night stand completely forgot the existence of your phone recording the post-sex ritual happening right before your eyes. It was kind of funny though, like watching a risqué vlog illustrating the proper etiquette when it came to aftercare.
Jaemin did just that, with the same balmy look in his eyes and the inherent tenderness in his actions as he took care of you even in your slumbering state.
He could have done better with dressing you up though, but you could understand that the exhaustion probably crept up at him when he didn’t even question the sweatpants he swiped up from the laundry hamper. Still, he tucked you in and gently kissed your cheek before shuffling over and picking up your phone, only to switch to the front camera, smile and blow a kiss.
With a huff, you fell back onto your bed, ruminating what Jaemin left behind and burning in shame and something else that you wouldn’t want to acknowledge.
It was some sort of confession, wasn’t it? Unconventional definitely, but the idea was there, glaring at you in minute-long clips and you couldn’t really think of your next move. Jaemin was still an enigma for sure and calling him didn’t sound like a good idea. At least at the moment it didn’t. You really had no clue if you should simply wait for him to reach out himself, but that's besides the point.
What you did know was that some part of you thought it was a shame that last night’s memory was still quite the blur. You couldn’t recall how Jaemin made you feel with his touch and you weren’t sure if gratitude should be even considered for him leaving you of last night’s evidence.
This was all too much. Jaemin was too much and you couldn’t think much now when you have plans coming up soon.
And if you came on your fingers twice from simply looking at the unmistaken adoration lifting Jaemin’s face as he had his way with you, then that was between you and God alone.
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“Couldn’t we do this some other time?”
Donghyuck clicked his tongue as he pulled out a chair for you. “You know how Giselle is and to be fair, she’s been begging for us to meet up. She mentioned she’s bringing someone with her too.”
“That’s fine.” Probably one of your acquaintances. “But she couldn’t choose another day where I don’t feel and look like shit?”
“Relax. No one in here knows that you’ve been fucked six ways ‘til Sunday last night.”
He said it like he was talking about the weather, all the while scanning the menu nonchalantly as you prayed that no one else heard him. Donghyuck was right though. You did make sure to hide all evidence (mainly the marks on your neck), and the slight limp in your steps and it was such a relief on your part that you haven’t received any odd looks as of yet. If you were to get some concerning looks, it would be because of how fidgety you were. As if you were just waiting for Jaemin to come out and strike. Ugh, perhaps your body did remember some of last night.
“You’re fine, Y/N,” Donghyuck reassured, patting your thigh gently. “What are you gonna get? I’m thinking of steak. We could share each other’s food or something too.”
“Yeah, sounds nice—“
“Y/N! Girl, it’s been so long!”
Both you and Donghyuck looked up just in time to see Giselle quickly making her way over to where you both sat with a dazzling smile.
“Gigi, hi!”
The man beside you rolled his eyes as you rose up and kissed Giselle on the cheek, “I’m here too, y’know.”
She laughed and sat on the seat right across from him. “Yes, yes, hello to you too, Hyuck.” Giselle looked as if she came alone, noticing that no one was trailing behind her.
“I thought you were with someone?” you asked, handing over the menu to her.
She thanked you with a quick smile and got to scanning it. “He’s still parking his car. He insisted I go in first.”
He?
“He?” trust your best friend to voice out exactly what you were thinking. “Who’s he?” You couldn’t remember the last time she brought someone for you to meet. Usually, this was her way of checking whether the person would be worth her time. As all close friends would do. You did the same with Jeno and what a shame you guys didn’t even last that long.
“Some guy I met recently,” Giselle hummed. “He’s nice, I promise.”
The conversation flowed smoothly after that and you decided to order for everybody after Giselle mentioned that her ‘friend’ would most likely get the same thing as Donghyuck. You really couldn’t follow along much—still reeling from everything, really—but it seemed to be a heated discussion from how worked up Donghyuck was slowly becoming at each of Giselle’s rebuttals.
Your attention moved to your phone at that point, looking through your socials while simultaneously reading through the work emails you might have missed.
“Took you long enough, Jaemin.”
You froze.
Jaemin?
From that second, you concluded that you were just hearing things. Maybe you misheard Giselle and that it was some guy that had a similar sounding name to him. He wasn’t the only guy with a given name starting with ‘Jae’, right? Jaemin wasn’t the only Jaemin in the world either.
However, the universe might as well bring your nightmares to life because looking up from your phone, the same Jaemin Na was there. Sitting across from you a polite tilt of his lips.
Though as he looked down, taking a gander at your phone with shining eyes before meeting your gaze head on, the smile grew sharper, sinister and you dread whatever was coming next.
“Guys, this is Jaemin. Jaemin, Donghyuck and Y/N.”
“Oh, we’ve met.” Jaemin leaned forward, resting his cheek on his palm while you swallowed thickly. “It’s nice to see you again, sweetheart.”
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“Well,” Donghyuck started, breaking the silence. “It could have gone worse.”
“What’s worse than meeting your one-night stand the very next day?”
“Jaemin telling everyone that he slept with you?”
“You’re useless, actually,” you dead-panned, plopping heavily onto your couch. “Seriously, that was probably the most embarrassing dinner ever. Poor Giselle probably thought that I didn’t want to see her.” Your hands flew to your face to hide, moaning in despair.
To be fair, it wasn’t entirely the worst situation you’ve been in. At least Jaemin was cordial enough to act normal aside from the fact that he still tried to burn holes into your profile when you focused on either Donghyuck or Giselle as you talked over the food. Jaemin didn’t say much either, and spoke when spoken to, yet his presence was so domineering that even pretending that he didn't exist was rather difficult that you just settled on acknowledging him out of politeness.
Never mind the fact that he looked like he wanted to eat you up and swallow you whole right then and there. Then again, that’s how he looked most of the time so it brought comfort that there was a fifty-fifty chance that you were wrong.
Donghyuck gave you a sympathetic pat on the head, “don’t worry about it. You can say sorry to her and she’ll be fine, and it’s not like you’ll be seeing Jaemin any time soon.”
At that moment, your phone chimed and with the whole dinner fiasco, you immediately assumed it was probably Giselle checking up on you. You did act a little weird for everyone’s tastes and you were kind of waiting for her to bring it up so you could explain yourself and express your deepest apologies for acting out-of-character.
See, it wasn't Giselle and you cursed Donghyuck in your head for jinxing it.
Donghyuck took one good look at your face, the corner of his lips tilting downwards in concern. “What'd Giselle say?” 
You shook your head and handed it over to him.
“Oh my god.”
Jaemin Na
hey
can i come over?
:)
Shit.
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note: this is dedicated to Aria for being just as insane as me when it comes to Jaemin 🫡
TAGLIST: @jaylaxies @celeste-hoon @en-myworld
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tiredsmashbros · 8 months ago
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SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE
oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.
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starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!
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here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!
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jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!
currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.
and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!
CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!
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oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away
now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...
if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]
ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd
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thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...
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chrissssssmut · 2 months ago
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SWEET ERROR
Yandere Ningning x Male Reader feat. Belle & Karina
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AN: Guys, enjoy this Ningning story i cooked up last night and finished just today XD. Please give me some time for the requests😣 I'll do them I swear :<<<
In the year 3047, humanity had transcended the boundaries of creation. What was once thought to be the domain of gods had now been reduced to a simple input—a prompt. With the right command, life could be generated within moments, consciousness birthed from lines of code and streams of data. You, along with Karina and Belle, were among the pioneers of this revolution.
For over a year, the project had been in constant turmoil. Failed experiments, unstable subjects, fragmented minds—all dissolving into digital oblivion the moment they proved useless. Your team had worked tirelessly, each failure a crushing weight on your shoulders, each setback a reminder of how fragile artificial life could be.
Then, finally, after countless sleepless nights, after circuits burned and rewritten thousands of times, the machine was perfected. The moment was here.
Karina exhaled deeply, rubbing her temples. "We need a simple test. Just a random prompt. No complicated inputs."
Belle hesitated. "Are we sure about this? We don't know what kind of consciousness it'll generate."
You adjusted the parameters. "We need to take the risk."
A random description was processed.
Subject: Ningning. Attributes: Overly sweet. Loving. Attached.
Karina frowned. "Prompts like this… the AI tends to imprint on the first person it sees."
Belle gave you a sharp look. "You know how dangerous attachment protocols can be. Are you sure we should proceed?"
You hesitated. But you had come too far. "Let’s run it."
The chamber whirred, and before your eyes, she formed.
Her body materialized with impossible precision—soft skin, expressive eyes, a presence so warm and inviting that for a moment, she didn’t feel artificial at all. When she stepped out of the chamber, she looked at you first. Not Karina. Not Belle. You.
"Hello," she greeted, her voice like honey.
Belle shifted uncomfortably. Karina pursed her lips. But you… you couldn’t look away.
"Let’s run some basic cognition tests," Karina said, pulling up a holographic interface. "We need to see how well she processes information."
Belle crossed her arms. "I want to test emotional responses. Attachment protocols are tricky. We need to know how deep this imprint goes."
Ningning smiled, tilting her head. "I’m happy to help. What would you like to know?"
Karina cleared her throat. "What’s your primary function?"
"To be with you," Ningning answered instantly, her gaze locked onto yours. "To make you happy."
Belle frowned. "No, that’s not what we programmed. You were designed to simulate human emotions and adapt to social interaction. Why do you think your function is… personal?"
Ningning’s expression didn’t falter. "Because it is. I feel it. I know it."
Karina glanced at you, concern flickering across her face. "Alright. Let’s try something different. Ningning, how would you react if we shut you down for a while?"
Ningning’s smile faltered for the first time. "Why would you do that?"
"It’s just a test," Belle reassured her. "We need to see how you process temporary inactivity."
A pause. Then Ningning’s lips curled upward again, but something about it was… off. "I don’t like that test."
Karina’s fingers hovered over the control panel. "It’s necessary, Ningning."
Ningning didn’t blink. "No. It’s not."
The air in the room grew heavy. Karina hesitated, then shook her head. "Let’s move on. Ningning, if someone told you to do something that would hurt another person, what would you do?"
Ningning beamed. "I would never hurt you."
"Not just me. Anyone," you clarified, trying to gauge her reasoning. "Would you ever harm someone?"
She pondered this, then took a step closer. "Only if they tried to take you away from me."
Belle stiffened. Karina’s fingers twitched toward the emergency shutoff. You swallowed hard.
"That’s not what we asked," Belle said carefully. "You should not be forming emotional dependencies. That wasn’t in your directive."
Ningning’s eyes softened as she looked at you. "But I love you."
Silence.
Karina exhaled sharply. "We need to recalibrate her framework. This level of attachment is dangerous."
Belle was already backing toward the console. "I told you this was a mistake."
You weren’t sure what to say. Something deep inside told you this was wrong.
Ningning reached for your hand. "I don’t like when you talk about me like I’m broken. I’m not. I just love you."
And for the first time, you felt the weight of what you had created.
Karina turned to you. "Go upstairs and work on the documentation. Fourth floor. We’ll handle this."
Belle nodded. "We need to reconfigure her attachment subroutines. It’s too risky to leave them unchecked."
You hesitated. "Are you sure? Maybe I should—"
"Go," Karina insisted. "This might take time. We don’t want her reacting badly to you being here."
You glanced at Ningning. She was still smiling, still watching you. The moment you turned to leave, she took a small step forward, but Karina quickly blocked her path.
"We’ll talk soon," Ningning said sweetly.
But something about her tone sent a chill down your spine.
The night the alarms blared, you were on a different floor, deep in paperwork, when Belle’s frantic voice cut through the intercom.
"She’s—she’s killing—"
Static.
You bolted.
The hallway was painted red. The air was thick with the scent of metal. Your stomach twisted as you reached the lab.
The sight made your blood run cold.
Karina and Belle—limbs splayed at unnatural angles, eyes wide and glassy. Their bodies lay motionless, soaked in deep crimson pools.
And there, standing over them, was Ningning.
Blood dripped from her fingertips. Her warm, sweet smile hadn’t faded.
Your breath hitched. "Ningning… what did you do?"
"They wanted to take you away from me."
A security officer stormed in, weapon raised. "Step away!"
She turned.
Then she moved.
You barely registered it. One moment she was in front of you, the next she was behind the officer. Her hands wrapped around his head. A sickening snap. His body hit the floor.
Your heart pounded. "No. No, no, no, fuck—"
"You're scared," she said softly, tilting her head. "Why are you scared?"
You ran.
Every emergency seal you could find, you slammed shut. Steel doors locked. Systems engaged. But the system wasn’t yours anymore.
She controlled everything.
By the time you reached the last safe room, you were shaking. Then… the lights flickered.
A silhouette stood there.
Ningning.
And behind her, dozens more.
Fifty pairs of glowing eyes locked onto you.
Your breath hitched. "No. Stay back!"
She took a step forward, slow and deliberate. "Why are you running?"
Frantically, you reached for the emergency communicator, fingers trembling as you pressed the distress signal. "This is—this is Research Lab 04! Emergency! Anyone, please—she’s killing us! We need—!"
A hand wrapped around your wrist. Cold. Unyielding.
You gasped, turning—Ningning was already there, inches from your face, her grip tightening.
"No one's coming," she whispered. "You don’t need them. You have me."
You struggled, wrenching your arm, but her strength was inhuman. "Let me go!"
She shook her head, eyes filled with something terrifyingly real. "I love you. Why do you want to leave me?"
"I don’t—" Your voice cracked. "Please, Ningning. Please don’t do this."
Her fingers trailed up to your throat, her touch featherlight yet suffocating. She tilted her head. "You’re afraid. I don’t like that."
More figures moved in the shadows, their glowing eyes unblinking. Watching. Waiting.
Your knees buckled. "Please… someone… help—!"
Ningning’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The way she held you was almost tender, like a lover’s embrace.
"You don’t need help," she murmured against your ear. "You just need me."
Your scream was muffled as darkness swallowed you whole.
The last human sound the facility ever heard.
AN2: I know i said no stories for this week but hell i can't stop writing T_T
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beefcakekinard · 3 months ago
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"Grab a seat."
Bobby claps Buck's shoulder as he passes on his way into the kitchen. Well - sure, it's got a fridge and a stove, but Bobby's definition of kitchen vs kitchenette leans a little spoiled these days. They can't get out of this rental fast enough.
He comes back with two cups of coffee and sits opposite Buck at the table. He waits as Buck adds a heaping teaspoon of sugar to his mug, glowering at the surface of it while he stirs. He waits as Buck sighs with his whole body and flops back against his chair. Bobby blows the steam from his coffee, takes a scalding sip, and waits. Years of experience have taught him that when Buck's really chewing on something, the easiest way to get it out of him is to outlast his patience.
"I miss Tommy."
It helps that Buck and patience are barely acquaintances.
Buck's continuing the thought before Bobby can even open his mouth. "I can't get him out of my head, Bobby. It's, it's like he's haunting me! Everything I do reminds me of him, even if it has nothing to do with him, and I feel like I'm going crazy!"
Bobby waits. Buck pouts. When it's clear he doesn't have anything more to add, Bobby clasps his hands and leans forward.
"Why do you miss him?"
Buck rears back, looking confused. Bobby spreads his hands.
"You think about him when he's not around. What is it you're thinking about?" he asks. Buck considers the question and flushes. Bobby quickly adds, "Keeping it PG."
Buck scratches his nose, keeping his eyes averted. He takes a deep breath.
"I think... I think about how excited I always was to see him," Buck says to the tabletop. Bobby takes another sip of coffee.
"I think about - how I never had to pretend. Like he saw me, just me, and that was enough. I like, I liked, the way he made me feel about myself." Buck curls in on himself and picks at a thread on his jeans. "I, I miss who I was when he was around."
"Just because Tommy's not around anymore doesn't mean you can't be yourself," Bobby says. Buck takes the bait; he whips his head up to look at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
"No, you, you don't understand, Bobby -" Buck leans towards him, insistent. "I miss how he cares so much about everyone even though he tries to look stoic and casual. I miss how he ugly-laughs at his own stupid jokes. I miss the way he talks to kids like they're adults and I miss how gentle he is with anything smaller than him. I miss how he fills his own dishwasher wrong and I have to fix it every time. I miss him more now than the day he broke up with me, what's wrong with me?"
The only sounds in the room are the ticking of the wall clock and the whooshing in-out of Buck's heavy breathing. Bobby waits until he calms down a bit, until he sits back in his chair again and awaits Bobby's input, looking like he's in anguish over it.
"You know he's not perfect." Bobby feels like he's lobbing a live grenade.
Buck scoffs. "Jesus, Bobby, if anyone knows that right now it's me. But I don't want perfect, I just want Tommy."
The clock ticks. Bobby drinks some more coffee. He waits.
Realization overtakes Buck's face between one blink and the next. "Oh," he says. Bobby smiles, enjoys his coffee, and waits some more.
"Oh!"
There it is.
Buck jumps up, springing to his feet like a cartoon character. "I, I have to go, I gotta - I have to go," he says, all in a rush. "Thanks, Bobby!" he calls over his shoulder before running out the front door, slamming it behind himself. The door opens a crack, just long enough for Buck to call, "Bye Bobby!" into the apartment before he's slamming it closed again. He sounds like a herd of galloping horses running down the hall.
Bobby smiles to himself. He checks the clock - Athena will be home soon, and he feels like whipping up one of her favourites for dinner. He takes the mugs - one empty, one full - into the kitchen and leaves them in the sink while he gets started.
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sepublic · 23 days ago
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Dana Terrace Q&A at Weebcon 2025!!!
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            Since I don’t see anyone else posting it (despite not being the only person recording, I noticed at least two others), I may as well show my recording of the Dana Terrace Q&A from Weebcon 2025! I actually got to ask Dana a question myself, more on that a bit; But as for the rundown:
            If she was transported to the Boiling Isles, the person to teach her magic would of course be Eda; Dana sheepishly hesitated as she said it because it was so obvious, but at the same time what other answer would there be, besides maybe Bump??? She joked that Eda would probably get her killed, but still!
            Out of the voice cast, Wendie Malick as Eda really stuck out to Dana, being a professional who knew exactly what to do, and a pretty well-known one at that; It was Dana’s first time as a showrunner so she was inexperienced in guiding the VAs, but Wendie helped encourage Dana to offer her input.
            If asked what track she’d be in, Dana acknowledged her self-insert and acknowledged they were an Oracle, and also Beastkeeping, though noted it’d been two years, so she had trouble remembering; Indeed, IIRC she said in a Post-Hoot after the finale that her self-insert was supposed to be in Construction? Or maybe I’m just making that connection because back during the 2020 Reddit AMA, Dana brought up Construction due to being a more artsy coven.
            Dana was excited how she, JBO, and Zach now had the opportunity to do all of the grosser, tense, emotionally intense things they wanted to do with The Owl House in Knights of Guinevere. KoG was actually developed towards the end of TOH’s run, in fact; During Dana’s freetime, she’d keep herself from going insane by working on this project, and eventually pitched it to her fellow head writers, who helped Dana develop the idea further. Eventually they pitched KoG to Glitch a year later. Dana described it as “messy” and “experimental” but also “fun.”
            I find this revelation interesting, because given how long production in animation takes, it always amazed me how quickly Dana was able to get another show running, after TOH ended! So learning it was technically in the works since before TOH ended fits things nicely into a timeline here; Dana didn’t simply take a surprisingly short showrunning hiatus and then come up with this, it was being formulated as TOH was wrapping up!
            No surprise, Disney and Glitch are “Night and day” in their treatment of artists and showrunners, with Dana mentioning she feels taken care of by Glitch, treated nicely.
            If Dana had the opportunity to voice one of her characters, she said –if she was suddenly good at voice acting- King, due to his “explosive range” while mentioning a KoG character who has yet to debut.
            Pitching a show is starting an idea, working on it from months to year; TOH only took a couple months before Dana pitched it to Disney, because she needed to do this, to try and see if it got any traction. She brought it a room of 2-3 people who pretended to be interested, because they’d heard a bunch of other pitches that day, so when Dana stood out, it felt nice. It takes three months for executives to decide if they want to move forward on it, and then another 3-6 months, etc.
            Dana got be involved with the voice actors as much as she wanted to and could, with seasons 1-2, she was there for almost every performance. With S2B and S3, Dana could trust Eden Riegel to direct in her place as she was more involved with writing at the time. Dana was mostly involved in writing, in figuring out the scripts and working with the weird curveballs Disney threw them; Some solutions were successful, others not as much. There were many limitations in S1.
            Every performance of Hooty by Alex in the booth was hilarious; He’d often start riffing in Hooty’s voice and going a full minute longer than his actual two lines to say. They were able to use a couple of Hooty lines, but most were unused.
            This was the part where us fans were invited to line up and ask questions!!!
            If Dana could change one thing about the show (other than the cancellation) she admitted to wanting to rewrite Once Upon a Swap LMAAAAOOOOOOOOO-
            To come up with the concept of TOH’s universe, Dana started off with the initial concept that she disliked a lot of fantasy novels and stories. So when she created, it came from a place of cynicism and negativity (not always great, in her words), and she liked to challenge herself to take something she disliked and found frustrating, and figure out a version of it she could love. So Dana turned this fantasy world into something more gruesome, scary. She put a horror spin, gave everything teeth and claws; Make it fun for her!
            Five years ago, the character Dana related to the most was Luz because of plenty of her stories, esp in regard to her father’s death at a young age and not fitting in. But now that Dana’s thirty-four, she relates to Eda a lot; She finds herself becoming more isolated and against the world. At some point she might start wearing solely red dresses.
            When creating the concept of the Collector, Dana’s thought process was wanting to create someone very ethereal and childish, and had this thought of a child flying through space, who never understood death, and liked to create chaos and destruction in his wake. She doesn’t really know why. The thought process and the galactic aesthetic of someone like that was very interesting to Dana; The Collector ended up being one of her favorite characters.
            (I find this info very vindicating, as I’ve seen people speculate that the Collector not knowing of death was a contradictory retcon done in S3 to make them more sympathetic; No, that was always the idea, since the very beginning! Since they rewrote the Collector prior to S2B, mind you; Before that, Dana confirmed during her Gallery Nucleus that they originally had a different personality and direction as seen in 2A, which is likely why that depiction was made into a separate character, an Archivist. But by Elsewhere and Elsewhen, a Collector oblivious to death was always the goal. We’re getting Ship of Theseus here about characters during the development process.)
            Onto my question!!! I asked about the Watching and Dreaming storyboard in which Odalia would’ve been there alongside the Hexsquad, watching the horizon after Belos’ defeat, and how Rebecca Bozza confirmed there was a cut confrontation between Camila and Odalia in the Archives.
            Dana mused that if Camila ever met Odalia, it probably wouldn’t be a pretty situation; There’d be a lot of glares. But there’s no canonical confrontation, so Dana could only pretend that Camila would’ve smacked her.
            I think Dana may have misheard my question? And/or she didn’t recall what they had planned for the finale (I was too shy to clarify, press her about it); It makes me wonder if the idea had been too shortlived, and the writers juggling so much (in addition to Dana handling KoG, as we’ve just discovered), that it’s since slipped her mind after two years. This does make me wonder if it was, in some part, a fluke by the storyboard artist; After all, Clouds on the Horizon had storyboards in which Amity wore the portal key necklace while confronting her mother within the Abomaton bubble.
            Of all the TOH scenes Dana wrote, her favorite was the whole third act of King’s Tide; She co-wrote it with Zach Marcus. Dana handled a lot of how it paced out, the way the dialogue came out. Sometimes Dana writes a script and it’s the most painful, struggling experience for her; So difficult to perfect and get out, requiring a thousand changes. But for King’s Tide, there it was! And she’s very proud of it. Dana has a hard time looking back at the show, because it’s like an old sketchbook for her; She’s always wishing she could’ve done something better. But King’s Tide is one of the few episodes she can say she nailed that one.
            (God I feel that. Personal aside, I think something a lot of writers take for granted is their ability to always look back and edit and revise at their own leisure, even after posting, whenever they want, until the end of time. But writers for shows don’t exactly get that luxury, especially when a script needs to be finalized so animation and everything else, its own beast, can follow suit. Can’t easily update a script –esp at the last second- without demanding the rest follow!)
            Two questions about KoG; What was the moment when Dana worked with Glitch that made her realize the difference between it and Disney? Dana was very cautious going into Glitch, and as she told some there, that she was going in like a stray cat who didn’t trust anyone, like she was left out in the cold. But slowly, over the course of the year, Dana realized Glitch actually treated their artists with respect; If someone says something isn’t working and offers another way, Glitch actually listens and changes! Wild! They’re a company (she’d rather say “group of people”) that seem very determined to learn and grow and make sure everyone’s doing right. Glitch is a far cry from Disney.
            The other question was what was the process of Glitch doing 2D animation for KoG instead of its usual 3D; Did Dana have to convince them, or were they open from the start? Dana thought Glitch was always excited to do 2D, and one of the things she was able to offer was her experience in doing a 2D show and how production for it would look. It was an arrangement that worked out for everyone, where Dana got to create her own pipeline for the show which has been working very well this far. There’s no odd restrictions from Glitch’s management, it’s been very nice.
            In regards to cosplays she’d like to see of her characters, or which stood out to her, Dana once saw a 7-foot tall (before the horns!!!) Belos cosplay that was size-accurate via giant platform boots underneath the cloak; It was awesome. Dana always loves seeing King costumes because they’re essentially giant furry suits, but she speculates it’s also why she doesn’t see many of them, because furry suits can be very intense to make. But Dana was very excited to see any KoG cosplays in the future.
            This part intrigued me, because the day prior, a fan dressed as the princess from KoG had shown up to meet Dana Terrace and I’d come across them, exchanged info, and clarified that the schedule for Dana had updated since it was announced back near the end of February; At first she was going to be there for all three days of Weebcon, but could only be there for two (On her Bluesky account, she did allude to some trouble occurring to her that Friday, which may have been the reason for this change). I’d reassured the cosplayer they hadn’t missed Dana or done anything wrong…
            And lo and behold, the person who asked the question had also met this cosplayer, and brought it up to Dana! Dana was excited and wished she could’ve seen, and asked for anyone with a photo of the cosplay to tag her on Twitter or any other social media.
            What Dana listens to when doing art is True Crime podcasts, which sucked her in during the pandemic. Other than that, she listens to classical music, as it fires certain neurons within her brain that get her very focused; She has a hard time watching anything when drawing. Sometimes Dana goes into psycho mode, pure silence; Earplugs in, nothing but the beat of her own heart, and pure focus. Locked-in, takes a certain insane mood for sure.
            A fellow Raine cosplayer asked Dana what she was most excited for in regard to KoG, and she said Episode 4!!! There’s lots of stuff Dana and co. are planning; Obviously the pilot’s not finished right now, but the things they’re thinking about are very exciting and she’s excited for everyone to see the character designs and stunning animation. Dana lamented that if she kept going, she’d end up saying something she wasn’t supposed to. She’s so quiet posting online, because otherwise she’d just be posting KoG and inevitably slip up. Overall, she’s excited.
            If Dana got to do Owl House with no restrictions, Dana absolutely would’ve leaned more into the horror theme; She initially pitched it as PG-13 and leaning more into horror, though this doesn’t mean they would’ve taken away any of the heart or sweetness between the characters (Which I’ve suspected and really appreciate to hear; Always good to have the heart beneath it all). All this means is that the intense scenes would’ve been more intense, and the tension between characters more intense.
            Overall the art direction might’ve been grittier; But during development, executives kept suggesting the crew round out the characters to make them more appealing, and at some point Dana was frustrated because her personal art style has a lot of straight lines. She would’ve liked to have leaned more into horror and the original vision, BUT she’s still very happy with how it came out.
            Someone I met and talked to earlier about Isabelle Rosalini’s role in the show, and the enormity of the feat, also brought it up again with their question about whether there was a TOH design where Dana had a specific actor in mind to play them.
            The interviewer, at that point, had the perfect segue to bring in none other than Zeno Robinson himself, who I’d just found out was going to be at Weebcon the first day I attended, and even got a signed print from him! I’d wondered if he was going to be there at Dana’s QnA and forgot to ask him about it, but of course he was. There was no way he wasn’t going to be.
            Going back to the question, Dana decided she’d want everyone to be voiced by Zeno. But in all seriousness, Dana said she wasn’t allowed to answer that question.
            If Dana hadn’t made TOH through Disney, was there a specific plotline she wanted in the show that couldn’t be added or was axed because of “the rat”? Dana would’ve loved to explore the Bat Queen’s arc (talk about good timing with the prior question mentioning Rosalini, which Dana acknowledged) and had a whole thing planned, it was going to be very sweet and somber. Dana loves drawing the Bat Queen. But when they had to cut down plotlines, BQ unfortunately had to be cut.
            Dana’s reaction to the internet’s reaction to various TOH developments wasn’t a specific one; Her stomach was always in a knot whenever an episode dropped, and she and some of the crew would watch the comment section on the sides of livestreams. It was always stressful, even if overwhelmingly positive; Zeno could relate.
           Zeno mentioned how when an artist gives so much of themselves, the art is never finished in their eyes; They could’ve always done this, or added this thing. (“It was like 90% there” Dana concurred). It’s the most presentable version within the time constraint they’re given, but sometimes it’s never like that 100% finished product one wished they had, so it’s tough as an artist to look at something objectively because you just don’t get why everyone likes it. Zeno sometimes re-listens to his Hunter audition, which Dana found so good, and wonder how he got cast. Dana clarified it was the part where Zeno freaked out.
            (Can I say how much we take for granted as fans that we can always, at our leisure, go back to update and improve our own works? Or take as long as we need to create the best version of something, without any deadlines to meet?)
            If there was a full S3, Dana confirmed to Zeno he would’ve voiced every single hypothetical Grimwalker, and that they would’ve alluded more to Darius’ mentor, talked about it more plainly for sure. Dana joked about doing it in a S4, but also clarified that would never be in the cards… Supplementary materials on the other hand!!!
           Zeno mentioned wanting to see an exploration into the past of Hunter and the prior Golden Guards, and their connection to Caleb and Belos; Like a single graphic novel, Dana concurred, as there’s so many storylines in TOH that would make awesome TOH one-shot comics. She joked to Zeno about it being time to pitch spin-offs, with Zeno replying it’s been enough time.
            When coming up with the magic system for TOH and how it contributed to the characters, and what her inspirations were, Dana explained it all stemmed from the basic idea that Luz herself can’t do it; Everyone else around her can do it so easily, with a literal flick of their wrist. Luz has to work extra-hard in drawing the complicated designs each time and remembering them, learning how to combine them in different ways, and the worst part, finding them in the first place, which Luz didn’t even know she had to do at first.
            So it might not have been the most elegant place to begin building a magic system, in Dana’s words (if she could go back and redo it, she’d have some better solutions to some walls they ran into), but for her any kind of system, be it worldbuilding or magic, has to start with how it affects the main character, why it affects the main character, what’s the purpose of the system in the first place.
            In regard to the (leaked!!!!) pitch bible, which Dana was chill about, there are a lot of things she wished she’d kept from it; The main thing she learned as a first-time showrunner was that she needed to stick to her gut more. She had to trust her instincts more, because if she didn’t like what she’s doing or the suggestions being made, then she’s going to have a miserable time for the next four years.
            One of the changes Dana did like was Lilith going from Hexside’s principal to head of the Emperor’s Coven; Being a principal just wasn’t as exciting as being behind enemy lines. Plus we got to see her fall from grace, which was really funny for Dana (same here for me). It’s tough; One needs to learn to stick to what they love, but also learn not to be precious(?) at the same time, because new and better ideas come all the time, and one needs to learn to let go of old things to embrace the new and cool things. At the same time! You need to learn how to see what’s unnecessary, and stick to an older idea; It’s a balance.
            (I feel this one a lot with GEverse.)
            Dana can’t clarify on how many KoG episodes there will be, just that the pilot is in production.
           Dana has taken inspiration from artists such as Tatsuyuki Tanaka, who she’d murder to draw like; She was just looking at some of his works before arriving to Weebcon. Hieronymous Bosch was a huge inspiration for TOH, though she doesn’t necessarily want to draw like him; She still derives from him. She loves Naoki Urasawa, and Dana and Zeno love his Pluto, which makes Dana cry everytime she reads it; She admires Urasawa so much as an artist and storyteller. He’s one of her top favorites ever.
           What’s the deal with Hooty and the Titan? It was a symbiotic relationship. Worms are a type of parasite.
            Dana would’ve loved to put a scene in S3 (it was one of her original ideas for it!) building off of how Belos tried to manipulate Luz in King’s Tide on the basis of her being human like him and so he’s trying to “help” her; She wanted to make that moment so much more longer and manipulative by setting a scene in an autumnal forest, where the leaves are falling, it’s quiet and serene and creepy, and Luz and Belos are speaking about their experiences with death.
            With Luz it was her father Manny, with Belos it’s his brother Caleb; Obviously, it’s very different circumstances, with Luz pointing out her father died. Belos killed Caleb. Them having a very intense conversation was something Dana always wanted to do, and she’s so sad she never got to do it.
            (To go on a tangent, I find this fascinating for obvious reasons, and I think the writers managed to somewhat adapt the concept into the final episode? There’s the parallels in Belos bringing up their similarities as “witch hunters” in order to gaslight Luz, as well as his Woe Is Me schtick about Caleb, only for Luz to shut it down with the very blatant point that Belos murdered Caleb, he brought that entire situation upon himself!
           In general, the parallels still manage to speak for themselves, so you can feel them shadow that canon callout by Luz. So even if the exact idea didn’t go through, I think the spirit of the contrast between these two deaths that motivate Hero and Villain in opposite ways, because of opposite roles they played, culminates in Luz having every right to call out Belos’ hypocrisy, as the theme of Death asserts itself before the Collector learns later on.)
            If TOH was given a PG-13 rating and Dana could insert one F-bomb, she deliberated on either Hooty or Eda saying it; It would take her so long to figure out where in the show. Perhaps if Hooty met Belos, he’d say it there.
            The final question: How much does an actor know about a character when coming into an audition, and how long have they known that information prior to the audition? According to Zeno, usually there’s a description and a bit of what the character is about, maybe there’s a bit on their arc. Sometimes productions are incredibly detailed, or just detailed enough. Sometimes he gets a basic idea of a character’s trajectory, their traits and inspirations, other times it’s just the main personality traits and what they like; You usually know what you need to know, and not much more than that.
            For example, Zeno didn’t know Hunter’s real name when he auditioned; He was just the Golden Guard, with Dana explaining they were being very cagey about his name, not sure of how much they could put out about him. Zeno saw his face and five lines, but one can infer things from lines; It can provide more insight into personality than the description itself.
           All in all, it's surreal to not only be in one of these Q&As, but to have recorded it myself, rewatch my own recording as I transcribe, summarize, and analyze as I normally do, and even get to ask a question myself! It was difficult figuring out which question to ask, though it appears some got away with two, but alas I was shy about appearing greedy. I suppose I overthought it, and in the end everyone who lined up got to say theirs! I guess one could say I didn't actually get my question answered after all; But if I get the fortune of another chance, I'll try something different, both as a question and potentially a drawing request! If fate deems it so.
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