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I saw this and thought of Ari and his Bird right away 😂 Now how would he react? 😌
Dinner is Served...
Summary: You surprise Ari with his favorite meal: You.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Smut, An Appearance from Bucky Barnes, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Brief Discussions of Body Image, High Heels, Naked Fun in the Kitchen, Manhandling, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Pussy Eating, Very Mild Chase Kink, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: I think someone actually asked me this a while ago. Maybe. I vaguely remember my answer. However, instead of rehashing that, this is how I think that would go - with a twist! Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
“I sent you the files this morning, Buck.” Ari winces as he shoulders his way into your house from the garage. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to open ‘em.”
“Just resend them in a different format.” His friend and business partner responds, sounding frustrated.
“Why don’t you just give-in and ask Pixie to help you already?”
“Because she’s been giving me the silent treatment since Tuesday. Why would I want to risk breaking the streak?”
Rolling his eyes, he drops his bag by the door – only to be surprised when he spots a pair of your panties laying innocently on the floor. Upon closer inspection, he realizes that it’s actually one of his favorites. It was part of a set he’d bought you just last month.
“What’d you do, Barnes?”
“Uh…” A heavy sigh can be heard coming from the other side of the phone. “I accidentally broke her fancy little coffee maker.”
“Wow.” He responds, disapproval evident in his tone.
“Hey! I just said it was an accident. She said she had a bad night and so I tried to make her one of those latte…macchiato…things she likes. And then I broke it.”
“Make it right, Buck.” After toeing off his boots Ari begins making his way towards the kitchen, following the sound of music in the air. He frowns when he spies your blouse in the middle of the hallway. Closely followed by a pair of black leggings.
“How?” God, his buddy could be so goddamned obtuse sometimes.
“Fucking apologize. And then buy her another one – a better one.”
“Ugh!” The former soldier whines. “I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for a replacement. How about I–?”
Wait. WAIT. Was that your bra? Just what the fuck was up with this strange trail of clothes?
“Buck, you’re a grown man. And google is your friend.” Ari snaps as he picks up your fallen undergarment, his confusion growing with each passing second. “Restore peace to the land before that woman feels compelled to drop a nuke.” With that he ends the call, now ready to solve whatever mystery he’s just stumbled upon.
But what it’s he sees when he rounds the corner that has him stopping dead in his tracks.
“Well, shit.” His mouth goes dry as he watches your hips sway to the music pumping out of the speaker.
A low whistle of appreciation has you glancing over your shoulder.
If you were being honest, you’d known he was home the moment you’d heard your garage door open. Which was also why your bathrobe was now hastily balled up in your pantry.
“Welcome home!” You chirp, not missing the way your man’s eyes darken as they drink you in. “Did you have a good day?”
“What’s all this?” Ari’s already deep voice dips an octave as he holds up your previously abandoned bra, dangling it from his finger. But you know he’s not mad. This question is coming from a man who clearly likes what he sees.
Which just so happens to be you. Happily cooking in your kitchen. Wearing nothing but a little makeup and a pair of red heels. Oh, and oven mitts. Can’t forget those.
You’d come across this scenario while aimlessly scrolling on Instagram. And since you were growing more comfortable with the body you saw in the mirror these days, you figured that it might be worth trying your luck. If only to see your man’s reaction.
“Oops!” You gasp, trying your best to look apologetic. “I just haven’t had a chance to clean up yet. I’m sorry.”
“Baby…” Ari drags a stunned hand over his jaw. “That’s not even – ah fuck. Cleanin’ up is the absolute last thing on my mind right now.” Dropping the undergarment on a nearby table, he begins making his way to you – only to come up short once again when he catches sight of your heels.
“What? I’m just tryin’ to break ‘em in. That’s all.”
“Fuck meee.” He groans under his breath, his eyes going wide at the sight of your latest surprise.
“Hold that thought, sugar.” With a wink, you turn back towards the stove before bending over to retrieve tonight’s dessert from the oven. You’re forced to bite the inside of your cheek when you hear your bounty hunter’s sudden intake of breath at the sight of your bare ass.
“There we go.” You hum, playfully fanning yourself with a checkered mitt. “Hope you like homemade cinnamon rolls with whipped cream cheese frosting." Tendrils of feminine pride unfurls in your belly when you notice Ari’s impressive hard-on tenting his jeans. "They’re the perfect after-dinner treat.”
“That’s–I’m not…” He cuts himself off, surprising you both with his inability to speak. “We–that ain’t the kinda treat I’m hungry for, little Bird.”
“Hm.” You nod as you stretch your arms above your head. Giving into temptation, you rise up on your toes before giving a little shimmy, calling attention to your breasts. “No problem. What’s the point of talkin’ about dessert when we haven’t even discussed the main course?”
“Huh?” Ari clears his throat, his rapt gaze now focused on your pouting nipples.
“Tonight we’re having roasted potatoes –”
“I don’t give a good-damn about no roasted potatoes, woman!” The bounty hunter rumbles, cutting you off before you can finish telling him your menu. “You don’t need to cook nothin’ else. I already know what I’m hungry for.” He takes a decisive step in your direction. “It’s just a matter of where I’m eatin’.”
“But you don’t even know what we’re havin’ yet!” Comes your incredulous laugh as you bat away his eager hands.
“This right here.” He growls, broadly gesturing at your naked body. “All of this. That’s what I want.” Without warning, he grabs the edge of his t-shirt with both hands before yanking it over his head, revealing his muscled chest. “I'm fuckin' starvin'.”
“But I’m not on the menu!” You shriek, throwing a dish towel at him the next time he gets too close. The next thing you know, this man is now chasing you around your own kitchen, his long legs quickly eating up the space between you.
Fuck it was hard to run in heels!
“Now I don’t mind where I dine, darlin’.” Your man purrs, his already sexy voice pitched to arouse. “We can take it to the bedroom. The living room…”
“Beast!” You burst into a fit of giggles as you attempt to fend him off with the help of a chair. “Need I remind you that we are in the kitchen?”
Now that makes him pause. But only for a second.
“It ain’t the first time I’ve had you in here.” The chair you’ve been holding is gently ripped from your grasp. “Pretty sure I’ve devoured that pussy in every room of this house.” You watch in defeat as he sends your last little bit of protection skidding across the floor. “Did you forget how wet you got the last time I splayed you out on this-here table? Because I haven’t.”
One rough, slightly calloused hand grips the back of your neck – drawing you closer.
“Remember how I made you hold yourself open for me?” His lips ghost over yours – the sharp nip of his teeth causing your heart to beat erratically in your chest. “Remember the way your thighs shook every time you gushed around me?” He moans softly, the erotic sound going straight to your dripping cunt.
“I–If you don’t want the potatoes, we’re also having…um…” You can’t help but whimper when he abandons your throat in favor of grabbing a hearty handful of your ass. “Herb roasted chicken…”
“I get so hard whenever I think about the way you drenched my fuckin’ beard, baby.” Ari gives you a playful squeeze before lifting you by your hips and depositing you on the table as if you weigh nothing. “My good girl always makes such a mess for me. Don’t you?”
“Could I perhaps interest you in some honey glazed carrots?” However, your weak attempt at redirection is completely ignored.
A heady thrum of excitement courses through you when you feel your back connect with the cool, wooden surface. And then Ari’s hands come to rest on your knees, gently prying them apart, baring your most intimate flesh.
“Look at you.” He rasps, tenderly stroking your slick folds. “Fuckin’ soaked already. And here we are just gettin’ started.” He parts you with thick fingers before leaning down to press a kiss to your puffy clit, making your hips buck.
“Yeah,” he continues. “This is the only honey I give a fuck about tonight.” Gripping your ankle, he drapes your leg over one broad shoulder, opening you up to him even more. And then he reaches for the remote to your speaker, turning up the volume of the music that had since become little better than background noise.
“Don’t want any interruptions while I enjoy my meal. Especially since you spent so much time preparin’ it.” Ari drags your body towards the edge of the table before taking a seat in a chair and placing a napkin across his lap. “And don’t worry about me needing any silverware, sweet Bird…” He murmurs as his mouth descends upon your vulnerable, quivering pussy.
“I don't mind gettin' my hands dirty.”
END
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happy valentine. zayne from love and deepspace
content warnings. smut, fem!reader, use of drugs (aphrodisiacs in choco-covered strawberries ), evol malfunctions, zayne's got a huge dick, inspired by mr. & mrs. smith, fucking you full nelson, cervix-hitting but realistic? aka it hurts like a bitch (might do a fantasy one next time idk), reverse cowgirl, riding, creampie oops, mentions of impregnating (could be just be a kink, up to interpretation), erm.. mentions of sharing wine.. via the mouth.. in a lewd way
word count. 1.3k (done in a timestamp format)
8:00PM
the two of you found solace in italy, going there for vacations whenever zayne was granted his leave of absence.
with his money saved and ready to spend on you, he bought a secluded house surrounded by a lake and mountainous terrain. it was perfect, especially for a guy like zayne who wasn't entirely a fan of pda but liked the idea of it.
zayne catches you outside, lying on an armchair, drinking your wine as you watch the sun disappear into the freshwater body. your skin looked oh, so radiant as golden hour did its job. sun-kissed skin, plump lips sipping your wine and your eyes appeared lighter than usual thanks to the beaming light.
"started without me, i see? did you bring them?" you smile, craning your neck to look at the tall man behind you.
"mhm!" you pull out a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, taking a bite of one before handing the rest over to your boyfriend. taking them, he takes a seat in the chair beside you.
8:25PM
"c'mere," zayne's words came out in pants, his face damp with sweat while you were practically drowning in your own. the aphrodisiacs were finally kicking in.
smiling, you take a sip of your wine before leaning over to kiss him. zayne wastes no time in prodding your mouth with his tongue, the kiss getting sloppy unusually fast as you two share the small drops of wine between you.
you break the kiss to put down your glass of wine, turning your face away from his for just a moment. as you're about to turn back, you find zayne standing right in front of you, impatience riddling his core. he bends over, his hand grabbing your neck as his lips find yours again.
just as he's about to lift your shirt, a loud firework startles the both of you.
"oh, fuck-" you almost shout before laughing. the startled look on zayne's makes you swoon- his eyes wide as his mouth parts just slightly. he's just so cute! the man can only rest his head on your chest in a sulky manner as he tries to calm his heart. you had honestly scared him more than the fireworks did.
his sneaky hands still find their way under your shirt and on your tits in an attempt to save the mood- as well as for his own pleasure... and comfort.
but you just can't hold in your laugh as you replay the image of zayne almost shitting himself, "i'm so-sorry." you snicker. zayne sighs, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. your hand over was your mouth, cheekbones struggling to stay down as you just couldn't resist smiling. god, were you gorgeous.
8:30PM
"hm- fuck!" the atmosphere was no longer light-hearted. the sound of skin on skin with the distant drums of music and laughter from the festival across the lake could be heard.
zayne had you in full nelson. his thick cock bullying its way up into your cunt at a delicious speed. his cheeks were flushed red, lips bleeding as he broke the skin from biting it too much- too focused on pleasuring you. he also hopes that pounding you is enough for you to forget about the scare earlier.
the aphrodisiac fucking with your bodies gave you two an increased sense of pleasure, senses heightening as all he could think about was your pussy wrapped around his cock.
"fuck, you feel so good." he grunts. all you can do is helplessly moan as you look down at the sight before you. his cock was angled so right but zayne, not thinking straight, attempts to bottom out inside of you. he successfully does it... at your expense. holding you tighter, he pounds you, rapidly hitting your cervix a numerous amounts of time.
the pain makes you jolt as you hiss, tears welling, "zayne! fuck, it hurts! stop!"
zayne, himself, is startled. stopping his movements, he tends to you.
"are...are you alright?"
"fuck, zayne that really hurt. you know not to go that deep!" you pout, his dick still in you, deliciously filling you to the brim and deliciously filing your brain with him, your teary eyes severely dilated. he's not gonna lie, you saying that, especially with that face, made his dick twitch.
"fuck-baby. i'm sorry," he pants, "do you want to stop?"
"i wanna continue... just don't do it again," you mumble, a slight ache running through your body as you begin to ride his cock, your back facing him. moans start to build up again as the two of you continue to chase that high.
"hmm- d-does it feel good?" the sentence sounds borderline pornographic when you say it, chasing his validation. your thighs shake as zayne grabs your tits to squeeze, teeth biting at your collarbone as he lets you use him.
"mhm, so good, pretty girl. so good." he whispers even more praises by your ear, stumbling over most of his words considering he can't seem to keep a single notion in his head. the way you have him wrapped around your finger makes you smile and you lift yourself off of your lover to turn around and face him. you just had to see that pretty face before you came. sinking yourself back down on his cock, you speed up, the constant praises were doing wonders for your ego.
"mmphf- you're so pretty zayne. so pretty," you smile deliriously, " 'n i'm so happy i get to be with you-fuck!" your head finds its way to zayne's neck. diving nose first, you snuggle into him while his arms find their way around your waist, hugging you tight as he basks in the proximity.
"shit. are you close?" your thighs were beginning to burn but the way his burly cock jabbed at your spot, you couldn't let up- not when your orgasm was closely approaching.
zayne can only nod as his eyes roll back into his head. you were fucking him dumb. cunt clamping around his dick so deliciously.
"gonna-cum." your boyfriend chokes out, his hand reaching for your waist to lift you off him but you don't budge. shaking your head, you babble some words coherently while the others make no sense at all, "cum inside me. gimmeababy, please, fuck a baby up into me."
wasting no time, zayne attempts to meet your thrusts just enough so it doesn't hurt you again and instead coaxes both your highs with the utmost pleasure, his hands gripping your waist roughly.
"zayne, i'm cum-ming!" you cry out, nails digging into his collarbones and he follows right after you, spurting load after load inside of you, a whiny moan leaving him in the process as his evol malfunctions- frost covering his palm and your waist, specifically where his nails dug into. finally coming to your senses, blinking slowly, you feel the wet coldness, your body shivering despite the warm temperatures. looking down, you spot the transparent crystals sticking you to your boyfriend.
"zayne?" you whisper as you shudder. he hums, looking at you before he spots the crystals in the corner of his eyes. he stares at it, blinking once. twice. jolting up, he accidentally bucks his hips up into you, causing you both to hiss at the overstim, as he realizes what he was looking at was, in fact, real.
"shit, i'm sorry. you okay?" you nod, curiously poking at the crystals.
zayne closes his eyes in an attempt to relax, allowing the crystals to shrink in size before ultimately disappearing. he kisses your cheek, murmuring apologies as he runs his hand alongside your cold waist.
"you don't have to apologize... it's not you'll give me frostbite." you joke though zayne doesn't take it lightly, humming in response.
"happy valentines day, my love." zayne kisses your hand, his thumb rubbing it softly.
"mmm, happy valentines." you say drowsily, rubbing your cheek against his chest.
the two of you sit there, basking in the afterglow and silence as you watch the fireworks in the sky, cuddled up against each other.
with his cock still stuffing you full, of course!
note. dis shit late asl especially considering i wrote this so long ago, so sawry y'all! also the "fuck, zayne that really hurt." section kinda gave me ideas but i shan't speak on them. oh lawdy!
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Touchdown trouble



football player!Boo Seungkwan x cheerleader!reader Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, Warnings: mild injury (sprained ankle), tension, swearing, Seungkwan being annoying in a hot way
---------------------------------------------------------
You didn’t hate Boo Seungkwan. Not really. But you’d absolutely love it if he’d stop winking at you before every game.
It had started off harmless — a flirty comment here, a smug smirk there. But then it became a thing. He’d jog past your squad during warm-ups, flash that million-won smile, and throw some overconfident line your way like, “Don’t get too distracted out there, Sunshine.”
You always rolled your eyes. You never admitted the way your heart sped up a little every time.
Fridays under the stadium lights were loud, chaotic, and electric. Your squad ran the sidelines, sharp in motion, all glitter and grit. His team, the pride of the school, made noise on the field — and Seungkwan was always in the middle of it.
He thrived in attention. He soaked it up like sunshine — throwing touchdowns and cocky grins in equal measure. And somehow, always looking your way after a good play.
It was a game, unofficial but consistent. You’d shout your chants, do your counts, keep formation — and he’d find you in the crowd like it was part of the routine.
You hated how aware you were of him.
One Monday afternoon after practice, your team was packing up when the football boys stumbled into the gym for their own drills. You barely glanced up from your clipboard — until someone threw a balled-up hoodie that landed squarely at your feet.
“Oops,” came his voice, lazy and unapologetic.
You looked up. There he was, hair damp, socks mismatched, smirk loaded.
“You really can’t go a day without bothering me, can you?”
“Consider it my cardio.”
You scoffed and turned back to your squad, but you felt his eyes linger — and you hated how warm that made you feel.
The days passed, fast and blurry. Midterms came and went. Homecoming was coming up — not the dance, but the game. The biggest of the season. Your team drilled harder, longer. So did his. You didn’t talk much during the week, just the usual sideline banter, a few stares across the hallway. He was more focused than you’d seen him before, and you hated the way it made your chest tighten.
By Friday night, the energy in the air was wild.
Bleachers full. Music thumping. Painted signs waving. Your squad lined up in formation, voices sharp, bodies steady.
And him — pacing behind the line of scrimmage, eyes locked on the end zone. For once, he didn’t look your way. Not even a glance.
That’s when you realized how much you missed the stupid wink.
Third quarter. Tie game.
Your cheers were loud, but your mind was only half on the count. You could feel the momentum tipping. The quarterback snapped the ball, Seungkwan broke free, and you saw it — the pass arcing through the air, perfect, high—
—and him, jumping to catch it.
He landed.
Wrong.
The whole field shifted. Players stopped. The crowd gasped. And you — you dropped your pom-poms before your brain caught up to your body.
You were already moving, feet pounding across the turf.
He was lying on the field, clutching his leg, teeth clenched.
“I’m fine,” he muttered when you dropped to your knees beside him.
“No, you’re not,” you said, too breathless to hide the panic. “Seungkwan—what happened?”
His voice was tight. “Ankle, I think. Twisted it. Not broken, just—bad.”
“You idiot.”
He laughed — weak, but real. “Didn’t know you cared, Sparkles.”
“I don’t,” you snapped. “I just didn’t want to clean blood off the field.”
The trainer came running. You stepped back as they helped him up, but before he was carted off, he caught your eye again.
And this time, no grin. Just a quiet, lingering look.
You found him after the game, sitting on the trainer’s table, an ice pack strapped to his ankle and a scowl on his face.
“You guys still won,” you said, leaning against the doorway.
“Barely. And I didn’t finish.”
“You made the touchdown.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t see you cheering.”
“I was busy panicking.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I mean—managing the team,” you corrected quickly. “Obviously.”
Seungkwan gave a soft laugh, then looked down at his wrapped ankle.
“I don’t know why I’m so mad,” he muttered. “I just… I love this game. It’s the only time people expect me to be something. To be... good.”
You blinked. The words hit a nerve you didn’t expect.
“I know what that feels like,” you said. “Carrying the weight of everyone's expectations and pretending it doesn’t crush you.”
His gaze flicked back up to yours.
“You’re a good cheerleader,” he said quietly.
“And you’re a better football player than you let on.”
For a moment, everything else — the field, the pain, the noise — faded. All that was left was the space between you.
Then, softly: “You gonna kiss me or just stand there pretending you don’t want to?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re literally injured.”
“Not my lips.”
You snorted, but stepped closer anyway. You kissed him gently — soft and real and a little shaky, but everything you’d been pretending you didn’t want.
His hand rested against your side, fingers brushing your jacket.
“I knew you liked me,” he whispered against your lips.
“I still might deny it.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to earn another kiss.”
You smirked. “You better heal fast.”
#idol au#y/n#seventeen fanfic#svt fluff#seungkwan#seventeen#svt#fem reader#svt fanfic#football#fanfic#surprise#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan x y/n#seungkwan x you#svt carat#carat#seventeen carat
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Magnetized
Homelander x Supe Reader : Fourth of July Special Edition P2
Word Count: 1.5k
P1 | P3 [nsfw]
images by diana-foggy-master
His speech is giving animal farm lol. Anyways apparently im supposed to start a new line whenever a different person speaks i didnt know that oops.
The heat of the tarmac hit you like a wall the moment you stepped off the transport. It was barely midday, but already the sun was blazing overhead, reflecting off every stretch of concrete and steel.
You stood among a cluster of supes who had been assembled specifically for this event, each chosen for their tactical appeal or PR value, every one of them wearing the same barely masked strained expression. You kept your arms folded, your posture loose enough to appear calm even though your fingers twitched faintly at your sides, a tell you knew John would notice if he were here to see it.
“Stay here until the signal,” a worker muttered before disappearing into the chaos.
You let out a quiet breath and adjusted your jacket, squinting slightly against the glare of the sun. It was going to be a long day, and it hadn’t even officially begun.
The sound of jet engines split the air, rumbling in your chest as five planes roared overhead in tight formation. Red, white, and blue smoke trailed behind them in thick plumes, painting the sky in perfect patriotic streaks. The crowd below erupted in cheers, cameras flashing, banners waving.
And then there he was.
Homelander descended through the colored smoke like a god, cape billowing behind him, boots cutting through the dispersing smoke until he landed dead-center on the massive outdoor stage. The impact sent a small shockwave rippling across the ground that sent hair and flags fluttering.
The cheers doubled.
For a moment, he stood completely still, surveying the crowd with that practiced golden smile. Then, as the applause faded just slightly, he stepped forward to the podium and gripped both sides of it with his gloved hands.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” he began, his voice ringing out with perfect clarity even over the residual roar of the jets. “It’s an honor to stand here today—on such a meaningful day for our country—among the brave men and women who dedicate their lives to defending freedom.”
Applause rolled across the tarmac again, punctuated by the flash of cameras.
“Freedom,” he said again, softer this time, as if savoring the word. “It’s more than a concept… It’s a promise. One that’s been kept alive by every soldier who has sworn an oath, by every family who has sacrificed, and by every citizen who believes in the principles that make this country great. And I think we can all agree/ that promise is worth protecting at any cost.”
More applause.
“And yet,” he continued, letting his voice dip just enough to command silence, “the threats we face today are unlike any we’ve encountered before. Faster. Deadlier. We live in an age where seconds can make the difference between safety and tragedy. And so I have to ask—shouldn’t our defenders evolve too?”
A ripple of reaction moved through the audience. Some leaned forward, intrigued. Others frowned slightly, their expressions wary.
“Some of us were born with gifts,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. “Gifts we never asked for. But gifts we can offer to this country. To serve not as replacements, but as partners. As allies. As brothers and sisters in arms. To fight for the same ideals, under the same flag.” A few scattered claps broke the silence, then grew into a growing wave of approval.
Homelander straightened, smiling like a man utterly confident in his own righteousness.
“That’s the future I see,” Homelander declared, his voice rich with conviction. “A future where power—human and superhuman alike—is united under one flag. One mission. One promise: to keep America safe.”
The noise was deafening now.
From your position at the edge of the crowd, you watched him work them like a master puppeteer, every gesture and pause calibrated to inspire awe. It was a performance as much as it was a speech, and though you couldn’t fault his ability to hold their attention, you still felt that knot of unease tighten in your chest. But when he caught your eye for half a second before floating down from the stage, you could swear his smirk widened just slightly.
=====
The rest of the day rolled on in a blur of photo ops and handshakes. You were away from him for much of it, keeping your expression neutral as cameras flashed from every angle. Your presence alone was meant to signify unity, but no one really cared to hear you or any of the other supes being paraded around speak. All they wanted was Homelander, his smile, his voice, the reassurance that he was truly on their side.
By the time the after-party began, your patience had worn thin.
The base’s main hall had been converted into a makeshift ballroom, all polished brass and draped flags. The air smelled of champagne and too much cologne. You nursed a weak cocktail and tried not to look as bored as you felt while some senior officer droned on about whatever it is that these people care about.
“You know,” he said smoothly, “we could use someone like you in the field. Ever consider applying directly? Not just for show?”
You smiled thinly. “I think I’m doing enough where I am.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. I think you’ve got… potential.”
He let his gaze drift lower, lingering on you just long enough to make your skin crawl. “If you ever wanted to make a real impact, you’d fit right in with us. There are ways to fast-track someone with your… talents.” His voice dropped as he smiled. “Stick with me, and I could make that happen. It’s all about who you know in this business.”
“Like I said, I’m perfectly fine,” you said evenly, though the words tasted bitter.
He chuckled under his breath, leaning in a fraction closer. “Sure you are. But if you ever change your mind—well. Let’s just say I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes.”
You were about to fire back, tension sparking under your skin, when a familiar voice broke through the noise like a blade. “Everything okay here?”
Homelander was there in an instant, standing just behind you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
The officer stepped back instinctively. “Ah—yes. Just having a conversation.”
“Right,” John said, placing a gloved hand lightly on your shoulder. “I’d like to speak to my colleague for a while if you don't mind?.” The man nodded stiffly and excused himself, vanishing back into the crowd.
“Persistent little guy,” John murmured, watching him retreat. “You okay?”
“Fine,” you said, sipping your drink again. “Didn’t think you noticed.”
“Of course I noticed,” he said, voice dipping just low enough for you to hear over the music. “You’re the only thing in this room I actually care about.”
You glanced at him, arching a brow. “Funny. You’ve been letting everyone else steal you away all night.”
“Can’t be helped,” he said with a sigh. “I’m the star of the show.”
“You can keep them.” You smirked. “I’ll just leave you here to bask in your fans.”
His eyes flicked to you, narrowing playfully. “If you do that, I might not keep my promise to behave.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “Oh no. Whatever would I do?”
He held your gaze for a long moment before tilting his head toward the door. “You want out of here?”
“Desperately.”
“Think you can get us out without raising eyebrows?”
You downed the rest of your drink and set the glass on a passing tray. “I’ll tell them that the alcohol is making my powers act up,” you murmured, leaning toward him conspiratorially. “And if I don’t get out soon, I might accidentally shut down half the base’s systems. They won’t want to risk me frying their million-dollar tech.”
Homelander smirked, eyes glinting like he already loved the plan. “So I get to play the part of the protective supe escorting you to safety?”
“You get to look like a hero for caring so much about your fellow supe, so humble, so down to earth.” you corrected. “You’ll probably get applause for it.”
“Applause?” he echoed, feigning offense. “I think I deserve a medal for putting up with this circus all day.”
“Maybe you do,” you teased, your lips curving. “But this'll only work if you don’t overdo it. You’re already dramatic enough.”
“Oh?” he said, stepping closer. “So you don’t want me to carry you out like a damsel in distress?”
“Absolutely not.” You snorted, shaking your head. “You’d enjoy that way too much.”
He leaned in just enough for his voice to drop to a velvet whisper, his hand brushing against yours slightly. “You’re right. I would. But admit it, part of you would too.”
You shot him a sharp look that only made his grin widen. “Behave, or I’ll change my mind and let you deal with this all night.”
“Fine,” he murmured. “But you better remember your promise later.”
You didn’t bother saying more. You just smirked and started weaving through the crowd, already rehearsing the pitiful excuse in your head.
#𐌕𐌉𐌊𐌉 ᯓᡣ𐭩#male reader#the boys x male reader#x male reader#homelander x male reader#homelander x reader#the boys x reader#the boys#top male reader
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what was I made for? - g.t.
Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader (continuation of keep her safe) The aftermath of War Games has you questioning your purpose, and what your signet truly is. wc: 4.4k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS (I have 50 pages left, but I just can’t do it. send help.) canon-level violence, injury, canon character death, self doubt, anxiety. oops, I made Dain tolerable again. angst, then happy, then more angst. I also skipped over a smut scene / just made a reference to it happening, so if anyone wants that as a separate post, lmk and I can make it happen 👀 thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on part 1! it means a lot to me 🫶
Riorson House is more your home than Basgiath ever has been, but it’s become foreign to you in the three years you’d spent at the college. It feels like you’re hallucinating as you wander the halls.
Maybe everything that’s happened in the last few days has been a hallucination -- it wouldn't be the first time Varrish or Carr had pushed you to delirium with the amount of pain you’d taken for others.
Maybe it’s a dream. That’s it. A really bad dream. Any moment now, you’re going to wake up in Garrick’s bed and get ready for morning formation, and you’ll forget the sight of Liam dying by breakfast, when you’re sitting across from him at the table like you always do. Violet’s screams of pain will stop playing in your ears, replaced by her laughter at one of Ridoc’s jokes.
But no matter how much you pinch at your skin, you aren’t waking up. This is reality.
“I hear you’re a mender, too,” someone says in a gentle voice, bringing you out of your daze. Violet’s brother, Brennan.
“Does it ever get easier?” You ask quietly. “Does it always hurt this much?”
“Mending becomes easier. Seeing that kind of stuff every day doesn’t,” he replies, and the exhausted look on his face tells you he’s being honest. “But it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me more about that.”
“The second person I mended was a scribe who’d fallen from a ladder in the library and broken her leg. I did everything right, the bone set properly, but my leg hurt for a week, right where she’d broken hers.”
Brennan is silent, letting you continue.
“They broke Garrick’s arm in RSC. I was able to fix it for him, and I took the pain, but they broke it again two hours later. I mended him and Xaden over and over until I collapsed. I didn’t wake for two days. They both still think it was just exhausting for me. They don’t know about the pain.”
The tears are coming openly now, dripping down your cheeks, and you bring a hand up to wipe them away with the sleeve of your flight jacket. “But it isn’t all bad. I couldn’t save Liam, but I was able to make him more comfortable in the end. I took his pain away, and let him go in peace.”
You don’t tell him what death feels like. No description you could give could adequately prepare anyone for the cold sensation that still lingers in your chest. It will likely remain there for the next few days.
“Hey,” he says softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, just try to get some rest.”
You nod quietly, looking back up at him. “Can someone please tell Garrick that I’m okay?” You ask in a small voice, folding your hands in your lap. You’d been heartbroken to realize that the rest of the squad had left for Basgiath before you woke, leaving you here alone.
You didn’t get to say goodbye to any of them, and you don’t know when you’ll see them again. Or if you’ll see them, you think, but you push the thought away quickly. They’ll survive. They have to.
Brennan cracks a smile - everyone in the rebel cause is aware of how deeply Garrick loves you. “Of course.”
———————————————————————
“Cadet Mairi died alongside his dragon, who was attacked by a drift of Gryphon riders. Cadet Avan attempted to mend them, and died trying,” Xaden says levelly, staring down the group of professors on the dais. “They both died honorable, but preventable deaths.”
Garrick knows Xaden is lying, knows you aren’t dead — or you hadn’t been when they left for Basgiath, at least, but his friend’s words have him on edge. Have you woken up yet?
Chradh speaks into his mind, sending a wave of hot rage through him. “Relax.”
“Relax?” He echoes, irate. “You’re telling me to relax right now, when-”
Chradh doesn’t bother to argue with him. “She is safe under the care of the silver one’s brother, where she will remain until the moment is right. It is better this way. She won’t be in pain anymore.”
Chradh doesn’t elaborate further. Fucking dragons and their constant need to speak in riddles.
The rest of the quadrant spends the night drinking and congratulating themselves on surviving, but Garrick doesn’t touch a drop of alcohol. The three of you were supposed to do this together. It wouldn’t be right to celebrate without you.
———————————————————————
“We’re gonna start from square one, with something that can’t hurt you,” Brennan says, placing two halves of a cracked plate on the table in front of you.
It’s simple enough to make the pieces rise into the air, using the same magic required to make a pen write for you. You concentrate, willing the halves to fuse together. They touch, and you think you’ve done it, your heart leaping, only to fall as they crash back down to the table again, splitting into even more pieces.
Brennan touches one of the shards, and they glue themselves back together perfectly; no cracks, no trace of the plate ever having been broken. “That’s what I thought.”
“Let me keep trying,” you begin, heart pounding. Brennan can’t think you’re a failure, not this early.
“You could sit here with this plate all day and it wouldn’t change,” he says gently, confirming what you know deep down. “I don’t think you’re a mender. I think you’re something else entirely.”
You sit with the information for a moment.
“Signets take the form of our base need as a person,” he says. “We need to find out what that is for you.”
You already know. “I wake up every day grateful that Xaden bargained for our lives, but I have done too much harm in my time at Basgiath. The crown has done too much harm to Tyrrendor. All I’ve ever wished for is to fix that, to undo the pain.”
“To undo the pain, or to help move forward and grow?” He asks gently.
You aren’t sure.
———————————————————————
You go through your morning stretches, as always, focusing on your breath to distract from the pain in your side.
“Your mate has returned.” Tab says, interrupting. “Thought you’d like to know.”
You bolt upright, running through the house toward the gates, bypassing Xaden to sprint straight toward Garrick.
He wraps you in a warm embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. You still fit together like puzzle pieces, even after months apart.
“You’re alive,” you breathe. “Nobody would tell me anything, I was worried sick,”
“Of course I’m alive, angel. Had to come back to you.”
You trace the Lieutenant’s patch across his collarbone, memorizing the shape. It looks natural on him, like it’s always been there. It sounds good, too. Lieutenant Garrick Tavis.
“I need to tell you something,” you say quietly, “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about-“
Footsteps approach. “Sorry to break up the reunion,” Felix says, “but Avan, we need you.”
There’s something in his tone that has your heart pounding. Which of your friends is it going to be this time?
“Tell me later,” Garrick says. “Go. Do what you were made to do.”
You know he means well, but his words tie your stomach in a knot. What you were made to do. Were you truly made to endure the suffering of others?
———————————————————————
Every muscle in your body feels like it’s on fire as you slump into a chair, sitting down for the first time that day. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get some sleep before you’re needed again.
“There you are. I didn’t see you in battle brief.” Garrick says, relieved.
“Haven’t been going,” you mumble. “They need me here. Bren’s teaching now, so s’ just me and one other mender.”
He realizes no healers had come with the riot from Basgiath. You likely haven’t left the infirmary since they’d arrived.
“Come to bed,” he coaxes softly. “You need sleep. You can't pour from an empty cup.”
Yes, you can. You have been for months.
He takes your hand, not giving you a choice. You lean into him as he leads you up the grand staircase to a room near Xaden’s. Your muscles protest every step, but you keep quiet.
You haven’t been in here for years, not since you’d left for Basgiath as candidates, but it’s exactly the same as you remember; dark drapery, bookshelves, a neat display of the knives that he hadn’t taken to school with him.
The sight has you in tears.
“Whoa, hey,” he says softly, pulling you closer, and you whimper in pain at the pressure against your ribs. He lets go immediately. “Angel, I’m sorry — are you hurt?”
You sob, the dam finally breaking and grief flooding out of you. You haven’t seen each other since that horrible day, you haven’t seen anyone from the squad you went with to Resson, haven’t had anyone to talk about it with, until now.
You shake your head, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I couldn’t save Liam. I tried, I really did. All I could do was take his pain away.”
So Xaden had told Basgiath the truth, to some degree: you tried to fix Liam, and couldn’t. The boy’s death had hurt you badly enough that Xaden wouldn’t let you return to the school.
“There was nothing else you could do. Nobody could save him, not after Deigh…”
“I know that, but it wasn’t just him. Everyone I’ve ever… fixed, I’ve taken the pain from their body into mine, and I can’t get rid of it for days.”
Garrick’s heart breaks. So that’s what Chradh meant when he said you wouldn’t be in pain anymore if you left Basgiath. Those eight-hour days of mending infantry may as well have been torture for you.
Torture. RSC. You’d healed his wounds, Xaden’s, Bodhi’s, Violet’s, time and time again without complaint, and he knew it took a lot out of you, but not that it hurt. “Angel, why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known…”
“I wanted to,” you sniffle, “I wanted to tell you a year ago when it started happening. I thought it was normal, that I was just weak, until Brennan told me that this doesn’t happen to him. He just gets tired, like everyone else does when they use their signets too much.”
You try to steady your breathing, but the pain in your not-broken ribs is too overwhelming. “I’ve spent hours practicing and I can’t even fix a broken plate. I’m not a mender. I don’t know what I am. Nobody does, not even the professors. Brennan thinks it’s getting better, but I don’t have it in me to tell him that it isn’t.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He wants to pull you into an embrace, wants to stroke your hair and tell you it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has.
“S’ not your fault.” You sniff.
“But it’s not yours, either,” he reminds you gently. “You’re so strong, angel. You crossed the parapet, ran the gauntlet, you bonded a dragon, and you’ve endured everything else. Please don’t ever think for a second that you’re weak.”
He takes your hand in his, watching your face carefully, but you don’t wince at the touch. “We’ll talk to Brennan tomorrow, together. For now, I just want you to get some sleep, okay?”
You nod silently, having run out of tears.
“Attagirl.”
As you settle into bed next to him, freshly showered and wearing one of his warm sweaters, you swear the pain has dimmed.
———————————————————————
When Garrick takes you to see Brennan the next morning, he isn’t alone. Your professors are seated beside him, along with some of the Tyrrish elders.
Devera speaks first. “We owe you an apology, Cadet Avan. The faculty was unaware that Carr and Varrish were using your signet as a method of punishment, or that it pains you to use it.”
“And I owe you an apology,” you say quietly. “I should have come back after the War Games.”
“That was my decision,” Xaden says firmly, “and I stand by it. She was in no condition to return to the school, much less to graduate and be stationed at an outpost across the continent from her support system, while still feeling the coldness of Cadet Mairi’s death.”
How does he know that you could feel it? Had you told him in your delirium? Had Brennan told him? Had you even told Brennan?
“Your friends have effectively plead your case, and we agree that you have satisfied all the requirements for graduation from the Rider’s Quadrant.” Emeterrio says. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”
Garrick slips your flight jacket onto your shoulders, and you notice the Lieutenant insignia has already been sewn on, to match his. When did he…?
You accept the handshake Devera offers you, still a little dazed, but there’s one more order of business to address.
“May I rejoin my old squad?” You ask the table of professors quietly. “They are family to me. I would like to ride with them again, and aid them however I can.”
They exchange hesitant looks, and your heart sinks. Do they not think you’re good enough?
“I don’t see why not,” Brennan says firmly enough for everyone else to agree — he outranks the professors with the years he’s been part of the movement.
You exhale in relief.
Garrick cheers. “The dream team is back, baby!” He pulls you into a gentle embrace, knowing you’re still in pain, but wanting to hold you close.
You laugh, not minding the ache in your ribs.
Xaden is unimpressed. “When have we ever once called ourselves the dream team?”
“We haven’t, but I’m starting now. It’ll stick. I’ll have it embroidered on your flight jacket, Xay.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Xaden replies, setting off a brotherly argument behind you.
You look to the leadership once more, bowing your head in respect. “Thank you. For everything.”
Devera gives you a warm smile. “I am glad to see you have found your place here, Lieutenant. Remember that your empathy is a gift, even in times of war.”
Empathy.
“Am I dismissed?” You ask.
“Yes, Lieutenants, you are all dismissed,” Emeterrio answers dryly, looking over your shoulder at Garrick and Xaden. The latter has the former in a playful headlock, messing up his hair.
“Human boys,” Tab says, exasperated. You laugh in agreement, leaving them in the Assembly room to sort themselves out.
It’s easy enough to find who you’re looking for — he’s the only person sitting completely alone in the mess, a textbook open in front of him that he isn’t reading. He’s gazing into the distance, eyes unfocused, but he looks up when he realizes you’re standing in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “about what I saw in Varrish’s office. I had no idea how much you all have endured. What we are taught in Navarre is only one side of the story, but you showed me the other.”
“I’m glad I could help change your mind.”
He reaches into the pocket of his flight jacket and extends a hand. Your protection rune sits in his palm, complete with a new leather cord. “A peace offering. I stole it back from Varrish, and Brennan mended it.”
You smile, taking it from him and slipping it back over your head. “You’re turning into quite the rule-breaker, Aetos. But thank you. It means a lot to me.”
You’re about to leave, but something compels you to impart a piece of advice. “I know how it feels when people don’t want to trust you because of your family history. It’ll take a while for some of them to warm up to you, but you can make it go a lot faster if you keep yourself out of trouble.”
———————————————————————
Your first flight back with your squad is supposed to be easy, a surveying flight with a small riot, just to check their perimeters, but you can’t seem to quell your anxiety as you take off.
“We will be fine, gentle one. We’re in strong company,” Tab reassures. He stays close to Chradh, knowing Garrick’s proximity will calm you. “How does it feel to be back?”
“Good. I’ve missed this.”
“You have always enjoyed being up this high,” he agrees. “Shall we review some of our basic maneuvers?”
“Sure.” Maybe that will settle your nerves.
“Hold on.” Tab dips, practicing all the angles — banking right, left, up, down.
“Something is wrong,” you blurt, and Tab straightens his path immediately, falling back into the formation. Every nerve in your body pulses with a sensation you’ve never felt before, standing on end. “Something really bad is going to happen.”
You’re right.
“Wyvern,” Tab warns just as they come into your line of sight. They charge straight at the front of the riot, where Sgaeyl leads the pack.
You’re outmatched, nearly two dozen of them and only ten of you. You’re going to die here. At least you’ll be with your best friends.
“That kind of thinking isn’t helpful!” Tab scolds, tightening the formation.
One gets too close for comfort, spewing blue flame, and Chradh banks hard - too hard. You gasp in horror as Garrick is thrown from his seat down to the ground below.
“Dive!” You yell, and Tab follows without hesitation, making a near-vertical drop.
You’ve never been so grateful for the running landing they’d taught you last year. It had been excruciating to execute on top of the pain of unbroken bones, but it’s just manageable now after a few days off from the infirmary.
Clutching Failsafe for dear life, your only defense, you sprint toward Garrick’s limp body, ripping off your goggles.
His heart still beats, but multiple bones look broken, his breathing labored. Touching him is almost unbearable, which tells you he won’t last much longer if you don’t do something.
Deep breaths, like Brennan had taught you, to accept their pain as it entered your body, holding it before batting it away like a fly.
You still haven’t figured out how to make that work.
Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you start to berate yourself; Why can’t you do this? Compose yourself. Garrick is going to die if you can’t pull it together. Garrick is going to die, just like Liam did, because you aren’t strong enough to fix a fucking plate.
Anger overcomes you for the first time since you’d watched your parents die six years ago. You scream, a sound like nothing you’ve ever heard before splitting the air. The pain dissipates almost instantly. For the first time in two years, your body isn’t aching, and you sob in relief.
Garrick bolts upright, gasping for breath as spring blooms across the snowy plain, trees with bare branches suddenly teeming with green leaves.
Tab roars in pride and the rest of the riot joins in, the cliffs shaking from the volume of their celebration.
“Lifebringer!” He thunders into your mind.
Your head snaps upward, and you realize that the ground is littered with motionless wyvern.
Garrick pulls you to your feet, brushing the tears from your cheeks. “Come on, angel,” he says, grinning, “we have a war to win.”
You’re still dazed as Tab brings you back to Riorson house, Garrick helping you dismount and leading you inside.
“We have a weapon,” Xaden says, actually smiling as he faces the assembly. “Something, someone, that can destroy wyvern in their tracks.”
Garrick keeps you glued to his side as Xaden tells the elders what happened, but it’s all in one ear, out the other.
You’re dismissed after a few minutes, heading back out to the mess, where your friends gather around one of the large tables in the library.
“Tab called me lifebringer,” you say, confused. “What is that?”
“I thought it was just folklore,” Violet says from a few rows down, scanning the shelves, and everyone turns to her, listening. “Lifebringers are said to influence healing and growth. In some cultures, they’ve been credited with ending famines by rejuvenating harvests, and saving the innocent from the grasp of Malek and his Death.”
“Wicked,” Ridoc appraises quietly.
“Aha.” Violet produces a thin volume, cracking it open to the right page. The illustration there looks uncannily like you.
“Only the purest of heart can be lifebringers, those who hold no malice toward their fellow man. The weapons they carry are sharp, but unused,” she reads aloud. “Garrick gave you Failsafe as just that — a failsafe. You never drew blood with it. You never hurt anyone except in challenges, when it was kill or be killed, and even then you held back.”
Bodhi speaks next. “With most signets, the stronger the wielder’s emotion, the more powerful the ability becomes. You feel empathy for the wounded, so you can fix them and ease their pain, but when you thought Garrick was going to die, that was another level of distress, and I guess it was enough to overcome the dark magic.”
Garrick squeezes your shoulder in reassurance that he’s still very much alive beside you.
Violet closes the book, setting it down.
“I’m not in pain anymore,” you whisper, still dazed. You’ve almost forgotten what that feels like, having spent the last three years holding both your own and that of all your friends.
“You needed an outlet,” Xaden says. “Pain makes it harder to channel, and you were in pain 24/7, which is why the professors thought your signet was underdeveloped. Getting angry, and getting that energy out of your body allowed you to use the full extent of your power.”
“If I had known this earlier, do you think I could have…” you don’t finish the sentence. Everyone in this room knows how hard you’d tried to save Liam.
“Maybe,” Violet says quietly, “but that is not a path you want to go down. Trust me.”
———————————————————————
“Do you want to explain why the hallway was full of sunflowers when I went to bed last night?” Xaden asks slyly, dropping into a seat in front of you with a plate of eggs and bacon.
You burn with embarrassment.
Bodhi grins. “You see, cousin, when a man and a woman love each other very much, - ow, fuck!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head where Garrick had whacked him.
“At least they didn’t set the vale on fire,” another of your squadmates says, looking at Xaden and Violet pointedly. “You still owe me for putting that out, by the way.”
Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. “So all that dry lightning last year was you two…”
“Okay, changing the subject!” Brennan says loudly, not liking the way this conversation is headed. “We need to figure out how to use your signet without endangering Tavis’s life again.”
“Well, it sounds like they already found another way,” Ridoc says, grinning, but he squeaks out an apology as Garrick begins to rise from his chair.
You tug your boyfriend back into his seat by the sleeve, looking past him at Brennan. “I think I need to work a few days in the infirmary between flights,” you propose. “If I build up enough pain, I could probably-“
“NO,” the whole squad says at once, Tab included.
“Your healing is only to be used when absolutely necessary,” Xaden orders, and even though you’re on equal footing now, both newly-minted Lieutenants, you agree quietly without protest.
“See, that’s your problem,” Sloane says, and all eyes turn to her. “You defer to literally everyone. You’re an officer now. Act like it.”
“Pardon?” You ask, looking at her in disbelief.
“That’s exactly what she’s talking about,” Imogen cuts in. “Pardon? You can’t even discipline a first-year cadet. Do you really think any veteran rider will ever listen to what you have to say?”
“Enough,” you say firmly, your nails digging into the wood.
None of your friends intervene, not even Brennan. This has to be another nightmare. There’s no way they'd hang you out to dry like this. Right?
Sloane isn’t finished. “It’s a miracle you made it out of Basgiath alive. You’re too soft. If you won’t kill anyone, what are you going to do when it’s between your life or someone else’s? Their life or his?”
The mention of Garrick is your last straw. “That is enough from both of you, Cadets,” you reprimand. Thorny vines burst from the seams of the table, whipping out toward them, and they stagger back to avoid being cut.
You startle, your heart pounding against your ribs as you realize what you’ve done.
Sloane is the first to apologize. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean any of it. I just thought that provoking you might…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, looking down at the still-twitching vines covering the tabletop.
“We definitely took it too far,” Imogen adds, sounding genuinely remorseful. “That was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I’m sorry.”
Bodhi waves a hand, and the vines slither back into the table, as if they were never there.
Your eyes widen at the blood on his cheeks — he’d been caught in the crossfire. You touch his face with a shaky hand, only brushing your fingertips across the skin, and the scratches disappear instantly, leaving no trace of the harm you’d done.
Somehow that makes you feel worse.
“Well,” Garrick says in his section-leader voice, “that was certainly informative, but none of you are to ever disrespect her like that again. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” both girls answer quietly, heads lowered in shame.
Your breathing has steadied enough to speak. “I understand why you did that, but I’m not going to tell you that it was okay, because it wasn’t.”
With that, you take your plate and leave. Nobody follows you.
———————————————————————
The balcony door slides open, soft footsteps approaching.
“I want to be alone, Gare,” you say quietly.
“Not Garrick,” Xaden replies, settling down next to you on the stone floor, “and you may want to be alone right now, but you probably shouldn’t be.”
“I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Xay. You know that,” you whisper. You don’t move your gaze from the potted plant in front of you, as if you’re worried it will lash out at you — or him — if you turn away.
“I know, angel. I know.” He exhales deeply, a gentle cloud forming with the warmth of his breath.
There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks again, just the sound of the cold wind over the valley and the distant footsteps of cadets running on the trail below. “Working through this is not going to be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”
You’ve come to hate that notion, everyone’s insistence that the pain you’ve been through has primed you for more pain, different pain. Why can’t it ever end?
#garrick tavis x reader#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing reader insert#garrick tavis#fourth wing#reader insert#imagine
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Title: First Time (Smoking)
Rating: Explicit
Words: 2.3k
Warnings: Smutttttyyyy Smoking kink, weed virgin reader, barely any foreplay oops, daddy x 1, many nicknames for r!
Description: Sharing a joint while he’s inside you or this party sucked before a handsome stranger saved the day.
No name used for the guy, but Frankie was my muse for this one. (Sorry for rough formatting, posted from my phone)
“Hey ya looking for a good time?” A late 20 something man with a stringy receding hairline. As he stepped toward me the smell slapped you in your face, cat piss and dirt weed.
“Nah I’m good, too broke.” You laugh it off hoping he’ll take the hint and just go away, but today is not your lucky day.
“Don’t worry baby, the first one’s free.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a way that makes a grimace settle into your face.
“I’m not interested.” You say coldly.
“Come oooon! You know you want some. I’ve got blow, grass, E, anything you could want. Let me hook you up sweet thing.” His voice sounds venomous as it spits out of his mouth.
“Dude, leave me alone.” You respond shortly, actively looking for a way out of this situation.
“Oh I see, too good for me huh?” He squares up on the defensive. When he backs you into a corner you look around the room again scanning for someone to help.
Seeing a tall, gently curly haired stranger as he turns around and your eyes lock, he has soft eyes and you can feel his trustworthiness. You plead with your eyes and when the loud man in your face looks away, you mouth ‘help me.’ He nods, hastily making his way over to you, you exhale a sigh of relief and try to keep your distance from the dealer as he encroaches closer and closer.
“Hey man! What’s it been, four months?” The stranger loudly clasps his hand on the much smaller man’s shoulder, forcing him to turn around and away from you.
“Do I know you?” He looks uncomfortable, all you can think of is karma as he shrinks in on himself slightly under the towering man.
“Of course, we met at that party on 8th Street!” He nods and makes eye contact with me using his nodding to mime for me to make my escape. “How can you not remember me, you hooked me up that night!”
“Oh how could I forget? How ya doing? Getcha anything?” He hisses.
“Nah I’ve got my own. Little advice, you should stop scaring off the hot ones.” He points toward my vacant spot behind him and swaggers away silently as the dealer’s jaw hangs open wide in disbelief.
Having run to the kitchen you stare out the kitchen window watching the partiers on the front lawn, drinking and playing uneven beer pong. After a long sip from your newly refilled cup you feel a large hand on your shoulder but it’s far gentler than you just saw him be.
“Hey, I was hoping you’d find me again.” You smirk looking him up and down.
“No way I wasn’t going to check up on you, that guy was creepy as hell.” He said, returning his hand to his cup.
“Did you know that guy?” You scrunch your eyebrows together.
“No, I’ve never met him in my life, but you can always count on dealers to try and sell their shit.”
“Thank you, he was way too pushy! I’ve never even smoked before.”
“Really?” He says letting the surprise show on his face.
“Yeah, I just never found the right people, you know.”
“Would you want to try?” He asks, you can tell he’s trying not to sound overly pressuring.
“I’ve always wanted to! Definitely didn’t want my first time to be with that filthy fiasco over there though.” You nod toward the back of the room.
“He’s back, you want to go somewhere a little quieter?” You nod running your fingers where his shirt unbuttons revealing his striking chest underneath. He smirks, eyes shifting between your fingers and your lips before continuing. “This is my friend's house, I know a chill room.” He offers his hand to you and when you take it, the sexiest smirk covers his face. He guides you through the house to a room lit with strip leds, more lava lamps than colors of the rainbow, bean bag chairs, and couches so round and fluffy they look just like bigger bean bags.
“They had a vibe in mind for sure.” You say looking around the room with wide eyes.
“Not my style either but it could make for a fun night.” He is only watching you, following your wide eyes with his warm gaze.
“Do you think we can smoke in here?” You catch him staring and approach him slowly.
“I’ve already smoked in this room, a couple months ago.” He said pulling out a beautifully rolled joint and handing it to you. You inspect the joint in your hands and smell it.
“That is the smell I’ve been looking for. A couple people have offered me a smoke before and the joints smelled like shit. This smells so good, I'm in!”
“Glad you're in.” He smirks, sitting next to you on one of the couches.
“Oh I was already all in for you, yummy weed is just a bonus.”
“In for me huh?” He questions.
“Only if you’re on the table of course.” Your hand finds its way to his chest slightly more revealed under a newly open button.
“Darling on the table, the bed, the shower, so long as you’ll have me, I’ll have you anywhere.” He flips a lighter in his hand and pulls the joint from your hands. Taking his words as permission you unbutton two more buttons and run your hand under his shirt. Stretching your hand wide against his chest, chest hair adorns him like a subtle pelt and holds your gaze before the lighter ignites making you look up.
The biggest smile on his face over your eagerness, he side eyes you watching you sit up right with your eyes glued to him. Lighting up the joint between his lips he maintains eye contact with you, a deep inhale he holds in his chest as you take the joint from his fingers. Bringing the unlit end to your mouth you inhale and immediately cough, he pulls it away as a hand covers your back in an attempt to soothe your coughing.
“Relax your chest, it's okay, take a deep breath kitten.” He coos while your coughing fit stops. Take a soft hit and a heavy exhale.” You nod and appreciate him not laughing at you. Taking a deep breath you place the joint to your lips and take a soft inhale and breathe out probably a little too heavy, but you didn’t cough. You put your hands up in victory and with a big smile he takes your jaw in his large hand and kisses you firmly. Making sure your grasp on the joint is firm even though your entire body relaxes into the kiss.
“If I said I wanted you to fuck me…what,” Your hand climbs from his knee, slowly crawling up his thigh. “What would you say to that?” Your hand fondles him through his jeans, feeling how hard he is you look deep in his eyes, a little surprised. “You’re really into this huh?” You hold his gaze, even as you keep rubbing him.
“I’m really into you.”
“You just met me.” You whisper against his lips but not quite kissing him. He says nothing and just takes his hand to the nape of your neck pushing you into his lips finally. You can tell he agrees ‘finally’ as he sighs deeply into the kiss pulling you in close and tight, he pulls away gasping for breath. “Answer my question.”
“I’d say, is it just the weed?” His eyes met the floor as his hand hovered over your leg, eager to be close to you but clearly unsure of his place. Despite the fact that you've had your hand on his chest for most of the time you've been sitting here.
“Love,” You whisper against his lips “when we walked in here, I was mostly sober and I couldn’t stop imagining sucking your cock on this ugly ass couch.” He smirks and lunges for you.
His arm wrapped entirely around your waist lifting you and gently placing you onto your back. The same way he guided you through smoking, he does the same while he lines himself up, instructing you to take a deep inhale, before he eases himself inside you inch by inch he fills you so deliciously but agonizingly. Pulsing shallowly in and out of your cunt, you know he has more but as he keeps teasing, you whine. He smirks and pulls out slightly lightly thrusting with the adjusted length.
“What’s wrong, sweet thing?” He whispers, you whimper in response. “Come on, take what you need, doll.” He licks the shell of your ear, you take two deep breaths, maybe hyping yourself up.
Before wrapping your leg around his knee and aggressively almost bouncing him on the bed. Without a second of hesitation you completely bottom out, taking every fucking thing he had to offer. Collapsing with your face next to his, huffs and groans pour from both of you as you adjust to the size of him. Immediately losing all dominance you had as you finally got what you wanted, you’ve never felt this full and you’re already high on it.
He chuckles deviously flipping you over onto your back as he leans to the headboard to where his jacket hangs on the ornate bed. You wrap your legs tighter around him making sure he stays inside you, though he had no intention of pulling out. Grabbing a lighter and a thicker joint than the last one you shared he rolls his hips a couple times savoring the feeling as he rests the joint on his lips and lights it. Never stopping rolling his hips into you, the smoke rises from the tip of the ember and from this angle it dances through his hair. He leans in to place the unlit end to your lips, taking a long hard drag from his joint. He just watches you with reverence replacing the joint with his lips. You hold your breath for a moment before his finger pushes your chin to the side.
“Exhale.” He whispers in your ear and you do as you’re told. “That's my good girl.” He purrs against your ear, nibbling at your lobe he continues to fuck into you keeping his pace even as he takes another hit. Your gasps are interrupted by the joint on your lips, you take a long hit savoring it. You can tell from the look in his eye that this is the last hit for a while, and that he is about to obliterate your pussy. While you exhale he puts the joint out carefully, confirming your theory.
Turning to you and grasping your hips tightly he begins his assault on your cunt and he holds nothing back. His all thought consuming cock, the thick veins and large head each have different sensations as you feel him rip repeatedly against your walls. Intentionally squeezing your pussy as tight as you could around him, he dipped his head moaning directly on your lips. “Oh fuck, that is,” He pants in able to finish his thought, you know you’re going to have bruises from where his fingers are digging into your skin but fuck is it worth it.
“Gonna cum daddy don’t stop.” You gasp and moan out between thrusts. One of his large hands reaches to toy with your clit wildly but with great precision you cum on his cock, involuntary clenching around him. With a stuttered pace and a deep guttural moan he comes deep inside you.
“How did you squeeze so hard, no one’s ever,” a chuckle from his chest but a blush on his cheeks.
“Oh god,” You turn cherry red and bury your face into his chest. “I do kegels. Let’s not talk about it.” You cover the exposed parts of your face with your hands.
“I’d like to talk about it one day,” A large hand on your back. “I don’t think I can live without it now.” He whispers, you freeze and look up from his chest meeting his eyes.
“Really?” He says nothing but cups your chin and kisses you slowly, licking his tongue across your lips. Meeting his tongue with yours, as flesh ran against flesh you couldn’t get enough, gasping as you broke the kiss.
“I’m so glad I met you.” He purrs, placing soft kisses down your neck, a bite and a hickey he seems to get lost in. You put your hand in his hair and he pulls back, his nose resting against yours. “Remember me.” His thumb traces through his saliva over the deeply reddened skin.
“Could never forget you, or tonight.” You pulled him down flat against your chest, your fingers brush through his hair. Both of you taking a deep breath together, your bodies perfectly pressing together, with another breath you both fall asleep to the sounds of a party a couple doors away.
#fanfic#frankie morales smut#frankie morales#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro x reader#pedro pascal x reader comfort#marvel fanfic#bucky barnes#marvel#sebastian stan#bucky barnes x reader#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#smut#smoking#smoking hot#smoke a joint#smoke weed everyday#can I tag javi pena#javi peña x reader#hehehe#therapyandprozac#prozacandtherapy
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On Writing and Hand Binding Your Novel
I've been given the wonderful opportunity to talk about a personal project completed last summer, one that took over a year to finish actually! It's what made me get into writing and book binding.
So, without further ado, last year I wrote a novelized version of the homebrewed dnd campaign I was in for about two years. And not only did I write it, I illustrated a cover, made a pretty typeset, printed the pretty typeset, and hand bound two copies of what eventually became titled "That Time I Nearly Broke Down & Cried (and other such stories)".


For some progress shots and more about what I put into it:
The Story
Near the end of the campaign, I decided to take my notes and write them as novelized journal entries from my character, Casrius Diki's, perspective (this man right here)

This ended up taking me over 6 months to complete as I started to enjoy the writing more and, thus, each journal entry got longer and more complicated. During that time, our campaign also imploded in a fairly soul crushing way. So there I was, with all these feelings and a creative project half done that brought up these feelings, and a general sense of no closure for anything. So, I decided to change that. For both.
I was already interested in book binding. And I had a novel length book almost-written. Why not end the campaign for me, on my terms, with a project I could be proud of?
So, the writing continued, followed by some serious editing.
And before long, I had formatted my writing for printing, and it was off to be bound.
The Creation
My novel ended up having enough words for 327 pages when formatted for printing, or 17 signatures to fold and sew together, the largest book block I have ever worked with.



(don't mind my non-setup, this was done over many days, and even involved a move to a new apartment.)
The book press is plywood from Home Depot that was cut into 12x12" squares, then clamped with plastic clamps. String, beeswax, needle, bone folder, PH neutral PVA glue, and headbands were all purchased from Hollander's. I used normal printer paper for the pages to attempt to keep the thickness down.
For the cover, I had previously drawn the illustration of the team in the forest as an anniversary drawing for our first year. But it didn't have the proper dimensions for a book cover, so I had to expand the illustration and give it more space for the title and such.


The text was done in Canva, then the whole cover was printed on 13x19" Canon Matte Photo Paper. I had read that this was a good paper to use for book covers, but I don't know if I would use it again in all honesty. Any glue that came into contact with the print rubbed it away, making the whole cover feel a little fragile.


For a final touch, I painted the edges of the book block a solid turquoise. This was done just as sprayed edges were starting to become popular for books, so I thought it would be cool and make this feel more special, but now it is so mainstream that I honestly don't know if I like it on my book anymore oops

The Fun Stuff
Here's where I show off the parts of the book that make me really happy!
The endpapers feature paintings of the group that I had done as another gift. They are in ornate frames and "hung" off the endpaper - I actually cut them out of a thicker cardstock and glued them onto the book so they have a little depth to them!


This specific page ( a fake copyright with lots of fun goodies)

The list of contents, both for the fun chapter titles (one chapter for one session) and for a playlist created during the campaign


Speaking of the music, the footnotes on each page where a song is relevant, explaining where and why it is relevant:

And finally, the typeset itself, which is peppered with illustrations I did at the table for fun little moments in the campaign


All in all, truly a labor of love for my character and for the campaign. regardless of other emotions attached to it. I gave myself, and the dnd version of Cas, closure. I also discovered how much I love writing and making physical copies of my writing. Is there another personal writing project of mine that ended up in a book that I have not ever mentioned? 100% yes. Maybe one day it will get its own post.
Anyways, thanks for sticking around! I hope you enjoyed/maybe even learned something about bookbinding. I'm pretty new at it, but if you have any questions, I will do my best to answer lol. And if you have ever thought about book binding or writing or any other creative endeavor that you have wanted to try but just haven't, in the most immortal words of all...
#writing#how to bookbind#dnd#personal project#bookbinding#ranthebowart#ranthebow oc cas#sorry if this was long#tutorial#kind of#how to#my thoughts
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Hi 🤎
I would love to read the long version of all those fake fics if I'm being honest! But: 🦮 for Campfire please dear and lovely Terra 🤎

Campfire Rating: Mature Fandom: Attack on Titan Relationship: Levi Ackerman / Hange Zoe Additional tags: #OG levi squad #canon universe #friendships #friends to lovers #field trip #camping #campfires #fluff #romantic feelings #romantic gestures #romantic… dreams? #sleep talking #no #smutty sleep talking ;) #secret relationship #but not for long #oops #relationship reveal #accidental public love confession #Levi Ackerman is a mess #severe second hand embarrassment Word count: 860 words The clearing was ringed by trees, their great limbs reaching skywards. Spindly branches grew to sharpened points like gnarled fingers, each clutching a thin fabric of leaves which wove into a threadbare canopy overhead. Pale light filtered between them; early evening sky turned grey by the rising smoke from the campfire. Bird calls pierced the quiet rustle of wind. Then, in the distance, a chorus of chirps echoed in response. Amongst the murmurings and stirrings of nature, the flames crackled.
Two squadrons of Survey Corps soldiers sat upon the fallen logs and leaf-strewn forest floor. The assembly had broken out into smaller groups, conversing intently as they suspended corn cobs over the flickering flames. The air was filled with the smell of roasted vegetables. Hange was terrifying Moblit with a report of Sawney’s cavities, following a dental examination they had personally carried out on the titan. Meanwhile, Oluo was outlining squad formations at painstaking length. Levi nodded as his squad member continued on and on and on… At first glance, it appeared as though the Captain was deep in thought. His eyes narrowed as though he was concentrating on visualising Oluo’s detailed descriptions.
...of course, it’s just my opinion that the Standby Squad should ride ahead of the Transport Squad,” Oluo drawled, “they are in the most protected position after all. Besides which, the Transport Squad carries our spare food, medical equipment, ODM gear…”
Levi’s eyelids fell shut as Oluo began to list off each item on his fingers. The Captain nodded again, his head falling to the side. Petra gasped as she felt his chin brush against her shoulder.
“Captain! Not here! I’m not read-”
It took her a moment to realise that he had not been consciously leaning towards her, but rather unconsciously. The young recruit froze, her shoulder bearing Levi’s head. Oluo stared at them before he gave a bitter sigh, dropping his hand upon his lap in disappointment.
“Well, that’s not what you want.”
“Oh my god…” Mutterings broke out around the circle amidst the nudging of elbows. Petra sat upright, her shoulders stiffened, not wanting to budge an inch lest she disturb Levi.
“Come on…” she tried in a placating tone, “we’ve had a long ride here. Let’s just let him sleep. I’ll be fine… as long as someone passes me some corn?” Petra was attempting to sound mildly amused - inconvenienced even - by the fact she was trapped, sitting on her heels and unable to turn her head. However, her face glowed in pleasure as her eyes continually drifted down to Levi’s face, resting so close to her own.
The conversation around the circle continued. Petra lifted her chin, her demeanour inflated as she sat eating and speaking with Eld. All the whilst she affected a casual lightness as though her senior officer was not huddled close to her, open and vulnerable in his slumber. Then, suddenly, Levi interrupted with a murmur.
Petra and Eld lapsed into silence, uncertain as to whether or not the Captain was stirring. He spoke again, only louder this time.
“Ah, Hange… take em off, baby… I don’t care if they’re small… wanna bury my face in them…..”
Petra’s corn on the cob rolled along the forest floor. All eyes were trained on Hange. The titan scientist feigned a perplexed expression as their eyes roved the tree tops.
“Did you guys hear something? Was that a lark? A great tit maybe…?”
“Sounds like Levi would know,” Eld cracked dryly, causing a ripple of laughter to break out amongst the recruits. The sound was followed swiftly by a nervous shushing as Levi raised his head, his eyes opening.
“… the hell are you all looking at?” he muttered. His glare immediately sought out Oluo. In his semi-conscious state, Levi tried to piece together the fragments of their earlier conversation. He remembered it had been something about squads and supplies…
“Well?” Levi growled.
“Sir… I… I was just suggesting an amendment to the riding formation,” Oluo answered anxiously, “not to say you don’t know breast - best!”
The swell of laughter bubbled up around the circle again. Hange fell to wiping their glasses on their yellow shirt, a deep flush creeping up the skin of their neck. Scowling, Levi climbed to his feet.
“If you’ve all got time to sit there snickering, then you’ve got time to help rebuild this fire.”
He scrutinised the dying embers. Most of the Survey Corps members had eaten by now. All that remained of the fire was a large charred stump, still smouldering in the centre. All of the smaller branches had collapsed to ash inside the middle of the pile. Levi looked up and caught Hange’s eye.
“Oi, Hange. Wanna give me a hand?”
Nervous titters broke out amongst the younger recruits. A few shoulders were shaking. Eld was grinning down at his lap. Oluo’s jaw was set. Gunther had crammed his fist into his mouth, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.
“With what?” Hange asked, astonished.
Levi regarded her severely.
“Getting wood.”
The whole group burst out into a chorus of whoops and raucous laughter, Oluo hiccoughing loudly as he bit his tongue. @youre-ackermine
#levi ackerman#hange zoe#petra ral#eld jinn#oluo bozado#gunther schultz#moblit berner#levihan#levi x hange#one-sided Petra x Levi#attack on titan#snk#fake fics#my writing
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Long time no see! More replies.
About TWST and about Blue Lock. And there is a bonus sketch hidden in this post!
hadesdancehall asked:
"Unfortunately, our style of consuming media is closer to “we’ll wait until only like 5 people still give a fuck”" honestly as someone who usually consumes media the same way, this is not only relieving but encouraging to hear
I’m very happy to hear that!! And honestly encouraged as well.
I always feel a bit bad because we’re kind of constantly in twst space, but pretty much never up to date with everything that’s happening lol So maybe it’s frustrating to some that they can’t talk about stuff that’s currently happening to all of us.
But I can’t help it – we’re the type to post the New Year related drawings in July and Halloween drawings in spring… It always happens, not only with twst lol
Anonymous asked:
OHHH!!! YOU GUYS STARTED READING BLUE LOCK!!!! YIPEEEEE!!!!! Genuinely so excited to hear how it went heheheh- Who’s the favourite boy for both of you guys?
Honestly I’m a big big unfortunate fan of Oliver Aiku, but I’m super curious to hear about both of your thoughts about Blue Lock!
The dynamic between certain characters go super hard in blue lock, which is kinda funny since it’s essentially just dudes kicking balls around😔 I mean they may be handing some other balls in some other ways but hey-
Also hello hello!!! Thank you for drawing birthday cater awhile back, his bedroom eye will haunt me in my nightmares and dreams simultaneously, thank you very much, and I hope both of you are doing well! Drink, eat and rest well🫶
-Cater diamond simp anon (genuinely forgot what I used as anon identification but oh well)
I’m happy you’re excited, Cater Diamond Simp Anon!! <3 And happy that you enjoyed our recent Cater stuff. I’m glad we finally had a good chance to draw him + felt inspired enough to dedicate a lot of time to him. If Cater Diamond Simp themselves is satisfied, I am more than satisfied lol
And yes, we’re finishing Season 2, so we’ll probably start reading the manga pretty soon… Maybe we’ll even post some Blue Lock sketches if we’re lucky lol
So far it’s been fun! Like I’ve already mentioned, it’s a nice breath of fresh air, and with how over the top and intense it is, it’s very easy to get swept away by it. The energy is too wild, and I keep comparing everything Ego says to our approach to art, and it makes me even more invested lol
It’s also pretty interesting to compare Blue Lock to other sports anime that we’ve seen! It’s been a while, and we don’t remember much, but the entire format feels so backwards in a good way, at times it feels more like Battle Royale than Prince of Tennis or something similar. Once again, it’s just wild, refreshing and unexpected, but also uhhh coherent(?) enough not to get lost in what’s going on.
BUT YES OF COURSE the gay stuff is on a whole different level. Sports anime and gay stuff always go hand in hand, but with these guys it feels especially sensual lol Nothing makes boys fall for each other harder than a good game of soccer. This is what locking a bunch of guys in a soccer prison does to one’s psyche.
As for who is our favourite character! I feel like I’m going to say something insanely obvious lol But if I had to pick one, it’s probably Nagi. I’ve definitely drawn him the most out of everyone… But honestly, the majority of characters are very likeable, we love Isagi a lot as well (early on we started joking about him being a BL visual novel protag, and so now he is kind of our main top of the title with a huge harem… oops), Bachira, Rin, Chigiri, and of course Reo as well.
In terms of ships, I think the majority of my current sketches are of Reo/Nagi?? They kind of broke our hearts in so many places it’s insane lol But also some Isagi/Nagi, Isagi/Rin, Isagi/Chigiri, Isagi/Bachira… see, I told you this guy has a harem lol
Oliver is fun; we haven’t seen a whole lot of him yet, but he is more interesting that I expected him to be lol It sounds mean, but we usually don’t vibe well with this type of characters, but I’m enjoying Oliver a lot. Maybe it’s because he is pretty much as cursed as the rest of the cast lol A little bit less cursed than other certain individuals though…
valy-gc asked:
Just wanted to say you're one of my favorite twst artist, and I think I can say artist in general! 🥰
Unfortunately I'm broke and don't even have ideas of what to ask, otherwise I would have commissioned you, I would love to see my OCs in your style!
Only left to me hoping my story will become popular and someone would commission them to you I guess 😂
This is so incredibly kind, thank you so much! ❤️
It means a lot that you like my stuff this much, and that you would trust me with your characters as well :) I hope I get to draw them one day.
Anonymous asked:
This is a bit late, but that hc post from a few days ago was so hot omg!! I couldn’t stop thinking about specific bits of it, like Deuce trying to be respectful but the mob enjoying it too much for him to not punch again, Idia being a nervous wreck and the mob just holding him tighter to ‘comfort’ him and just making it worse, and Silver just being Silver and being so polite as to apologize to the horny mob <3 I love it so much I’m going crazy
Thank you so much for reading and enjoying it, Anon!! I can’t believe someone liked that post lol I am so happy we have mob lovers around here.
But yeah, this entire trope is very fun and honestly hot, so I enjoyed writing that post a lot. I should draw all of these boys getting pestered by mobs one day lol
thesilliestsoma asked:
COULD YOU DRAW SCARABIA'S NEW FEMALE YUU?! SHE'S SO PRETTY!!! (also I luv all ur art)
Thank you for loving my art!! It means a lot! <3
I did draw her as a Ko-Fi request!
Anonymous asked:
I know you said you don't usually do Yuu stuff but since we recently got revealed Scarabia Yuu, i'm just a bit curious... Do you have any thoughts on the manga Yuus?
To be completely honest, not really, Anon 🤔 The idea of having a new Yuu every book sounds interesting enough and a very logical way to go around the issue of Yuu not really being a specific character, and I do enjoy the range, but the entire Yuu thing is just not our cup of tea. It’s not really the part of twst experience that is made for us I feel like, which is absolutely okay and fair. To each their own!
If we had to pick one manga Yuu that we liked the most though, I guess I’d pick Yuuta lol he is cute and I drew him once.
missweirdbookgod asked:
do you have sexuality head cannons for all of the twisted wonderland cast and if so what are they may i ask?
We don’t really think about sexualities of characters . Anyone can be anything depending on the AU/the story, and by default I just see everyone as gay lol
With some characters I like to think of them as especially extra strictly gay, like Vil or Trey for example, but the rules still stay the same for everyone.
Anonymous asked:
Omg sleepy sebek!!! This post did get me wondering though… did you guys ever think about characters being switches or versatile?
He’s very sleepy!
We don’t like switching characters, so we don’t headcanon anyone as switch/versatile. Not our cup of tea.
Anonymous asked:
Thoughts:
The Spelldrive team convinced Epel that the most important job on the team is "post training stress relief" if you catch my drift. They might even tell him it was Leona's job at one point. Is that part true? Is it made up to get the cute boy to do what they want? Who knows. But Epel believes it. He'll gladly be like someone as tough and manly as Leona.
Now this is how you weaponise Epel’s naiveté and his eagerness to be like Leona… Great scenario, Anon. A classic, but still incredibly underrated one, I’d say.
I like that it’s not certain if Leona really did something like that before… honestly, who knows?
The Spelldrive team is so horny…
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excuse me for the wait on this one... anyway oops i just realized inutile broke 200k? who let that happen?
also inutile is shifting to an every-other-week upload format just because i'm busy!! so next update is going to be on the 3rd of feb
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OK KIYORA NOTES!!! These are all from the game I kinda wrote them summary/LN style because the act of typing it all out in dialogue format takes me like three times the time to type out and I got lazy oops
Anyways lmk if anything’s unclear! I basically broke it down into some main themes I noticed
- Karasu anon
Breakdancing: He really likes breakdancing, both Otoya and Bachira end up asking him to teach them, to which he essentially says yes but that he doesn’t really know how to teach and kinda just tells them to try and copy his moves
Otoya interaction: Kiyora originally says he doesn’t mind teaching but questions if Otoya can keep up. After Otoya restates that he’s a ninja descendant Kiyora seems to acknowledge him more
Bachira interaction: He asks to be taught thinking that it “seems fun” to which Kiyora replied with “not just seems fun. It IS fun”, Bachira also does it wrong (aka just tries following along bachira style) but Kiyora still acknowledges his potential
Player interaction: mid training, he asks the player if it’d be ok to integrate dancing into his training regimen. Player agrees but asks why. He explains that before coming to bllk he’d always participate in dance battles and liked dancing. When the player responds saying how they know of dance battles Kiyora immediately goes “oh nice let’s have a dance battle now then” to which player has to say “I know OF them not how to actually dance…” to which he says “oh well, can’t be helped if you don’t know how”
Voiceline: …my interests? Break dancing. Lets go (dancing/dance battling)
Karasu “rivalry”: He seems to have a sort of one sided rivalry with Karasu, constantly irked by Karasu underestimating him.
Interaction: Karasu acknowledges Kiyoras vision and borderline detection, essentially praising him for surviving in blue lock but still comments on kiyoras complacency and how Kiyora can’t survive just by riding on others’ success (probably referring to the second selection team). Kiyora responds by telling Karasu not to underestimate him
Voiceline: Karasu treating me like an idiot seriously pisses me off. I’ll crush him someday.
Nagi rivalry: Another rivalry although less one sided. Pretty obviously inspired/taken by their first meeting in epinagi
Interaction: similar scenario where they both end up reserving the same practice room but they actually did reserve the same room so instead they end up “battling” each other to win the room (even though they could share, they want the stakes present to motivate the match). Kiyora continuously refers to Nagi as “tall white”/“white beanpole” and Nagi continues calling Kiyora “chibi”
Voiceline: …I have some free time now. Maybe I’ll go challenge that white beanpole to a battle.
Height and underestimation: Is very aware that he is short and doesn’t like being underestimated because of it
Voiceline: Just now, you were thinking that I’m a shrimp weren’t you? Save the excuses, square up/let’s go.
Voiceline: Crushing those who underestimate me is the best, gets me hyped
Player interaction: Player approaches Kiyora after practice saying that they wanted to adjust some of the practice regimen after observing kiyora. They say they want to try hyping him up against strong opponents and suggests he play some one on ones. Kiyora is surprised at how well the players thoughts align with his own. He accepts saying there’s no reason to turn down a strong opponent, and that most of the bllkers underestimate him because of his height, so crushing them would be like fulfilling his wishes.
Player interaction: The player complements his weapon of shitting a low trajectory shot with a tight spin and that it’s even more impressive up close. Kiyora responds by asking if it’s amazing just because he’s “a pipsqueakl. Player denies this saying they were just admiring his shooting technique and that it has nothing to do with him being short. Player asked what he’d do if that was the case, to which he says “don’t underestimate me, I’ll crush you”. The player then thinks internally that they should be careful not to be too conscious of his short height.
Misc. voicelines and etc.:
“I’m the one who decides the battles on the borderline.”
“Aight, Ai-ght, etc.” many variations of “aight”
Player interaction: Kiyora starts to have doubts about if the player is actually capable of making him number one, so he wants to see for himself if he should continue following their plans or if he should drop them. Player thinks it’s naturally since they’re a soccer noob and asks what they should do. Kiyora tells them to continue as they’ve been doing for one week. In that time, he’ll follow along and if they plan something that he acknowledges he’ll continue working with them. Kiyora says that this is their borderline. If they want to continue working with Kiyora, they need to prove it and go beyond the borderline he’s defined.
Player interaction/assessment of Kiyora: Kiyora’s grounder techniques (wtv those are) are top class within bllk. Within those skills are his passes and gameplay senses. He’s able to take advantage of the large range of the field, cutting in and passing and shooting as needed. Those are the weapons that have helped Kiyora survive. Developing his dribbling skills and the ability to move around more himself is the best option for him to improve.
He’s stated that he also got into soccer because his older brother would force him to play with him, and if he lost he’d face a punishment so that was his motivation to improve LMAO
Generally he’s quite spunky, but mainly on the basis of not wanting to be underestimated due to his height. Also has a strong sense of self and ofc has the whole borderline thing going on where he enjoys being the deciding factor of things. I’ll come back with more updates if I see more interesting voicelines LOL
THANK YOUUU i think i actually did a fairly decent job at getting him!! hehe i already finished the one shot before you posted this but in the fic he’s kinda moody emo but also kinda cutie pie?? I GOT HIS OLDER BROTHER BEING THE ONE TO GET HIM INTO SOCCER OMG so proud…also got the height thing…his borderline thing ofc…his dancing is briefly hinted at towards the end but eh good enough for me!! in the au i wrote for he’s kinda uh violent (he used to be a street fighter because his older brother got him into it for the money but then he quit because he didn’t rlly like it) but it’s not like crazy or with people that don’t deserve it so hopefully it doesn’t feel ooc?? idk we’ll see…to be honest the place i ended the one shot at is definitely one that requires a part two for any elaboration/further characterization but considering idek if the anon will like the au i just left it there and i’ll add that i’m more than happy to do a pt2 if anyone’s interested but i didn’t want to waste my time if not 😭
also wait the one sided karasu beef is so funny LMAOAOA new sibling duo unlocked ⁉️ it’s giving roderick and greg from diary of a wimpy kid somehow 😭 the way kiyora fucking hates him and karasu just does not gaf…😓 that also makes that panel in bm vs pxg where it looks like karasu is using kiyora as a chair sm worse FJSLDJSJ that was probably kiyora’s thirteenth reason omg
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Technoblade 30 JUN 24
Technoblade VS 100 Minecraft YouTubers Part 1/1
I had to look up my format for this it has been so long since I’ve had a video or stream to delayed live blog for
I texted my brother and it’s felt like old times when Techno would upload
Oh it’s starting.
Aww Tommy. Thank you Tommy!
Aww he used Technoblade style of intro
Oh hi technodad.
Oh no this is going to be an hour?! I have school work to do but oh well. Not as important.
Techno chilling while everyone panics that’s about normal
Cannibalism let’s go!!!
A lone pig
Technodad’s “meanwhile” 😂 I love this
Bye squid kid
Oh meanwhile is going to be such a good bit. Go technodad.
Technodad’s commentary is the best. “Found something much more annoying”
Oh look a tornado.
No Phil!!!! Philza!!!
Oh I forgot Schlatt was god.
24 straight minutes. Go Tommy editing that.
Techno stuck with his diaphragm spasming
Mans already dead and they’re showing his hiccups. 😂
Oh hi god.
Speedy pig
Reaches the surface and wonders what the heck happened.
Just run from the poison
“You can’t trade with god” “what if the next natural disaster is me”
Going crazy cause he has stuff to do what a legend
god making him go zoom zoom. I especially like “don’t get too excited it’s the same thing”
Oh there’s a storm coming towards me. Yuck.
Ah cool shield mode.
Hooray! Philza!
Ah and god is back
Everything shook. Man if god doesn’t know everything is bad
Man Schlatt said the best disaster is Techno.
Everybody else hanging out on the lava pillar
Hi again god. Techno is outfitted for war.
Technoblade has been promoted to minor god.
Flying Technoblade!!! Technoplane!!!!!
A techno on the horizon sniping people with gas.
Splish splash to the village(?)
Button? Sheep?
End it all button?
I love that Techno was happy to press the button since he has an appointment
Oops. The spam kinda over killed it.
Lag? Really that’s the issue right now?
“Stop spamming meteors!” What did Tommy expect to happen? He gave it to Techno.
How are people alive in that pile of fire?
You did bad when god asks you why.
Whoop. He broke the server. Happens sometimes.
Yeah sometimes you just need to vote techno the winner.
That was a good video. I’m glad I took the study break to watch it. And it wasn’t an hour long!
Now I kinda want to rewatch the potato war while I do my work. Oh Tommy uploaded a video to his channel too about Techno. Something else to watch…. Oh it’s just hitting that it’s the anniversary.
Remember y’all Technoblade never dies
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Texting HC for the boys
Wind - Uses discord way more than text. Commonly mutes chats. He gets a million discord messages from different groups and he can't be bothered to listen to every time someone complains about the mountain of dishes he left in the sink. If you really want to reach Wind you have to jump on discord or go to his room.
Twilight - Doesn’t like to send more than one message in a row because someone called him desperate one (1) time in high school and he never recovered. So instead he’ll send you a whole paragraph and agonize if he forgot to mention something. Everyone’s told him its fine to send literally a million texts in a row but Twi can’t get over it.
Warriors - Will 🙌 ironically 😎 text 📲 like ❤️ this 👏. But only when he wants to be annoying. Otherwise he’s fine and he can use emojis like hieroglyphics if he wants and he’s able to make himself very clear with just an eggplant emoji and a raised brow emoji.
Wild - Commonly texts the wrong chat and confuses the hell out of people. Accidentally forgets his phone in the other room and doesn’t see people’s messages until its several hours too late btu still texts them back like “oops sorry just saw this man” as if they didn’t know. Uses emojis liberally and goes on tangents and makes everyone forget what they were talking about. The people love hearing from him, but its hard to stay on topic when Wild is in the group chat.
Champion - Full words, no abbreviations. Will straight up send you an “acknowledged” instead of an “ok” to let you know he read your message. Never uses emojis. Ever. The one time Warriors did convince Champ to send a thumbs up emoji to Sky instead of “affirmative”, Sky almost broke down the dormitory door because he thought Champion had gotten kidnapped and was sending a coded cry for help.
Legend - Spams the fuck out of everyones phone when he’s pissed, which is a lot of the time. Doens’t give a shit what group text he’s in he’ll fucking send you an essay one sentance at a time cursing Sky out for eating the last of his goddamn breadpudding.
Hyrule - Never responds on time. He’s always busy and in a rush so when he reads a text and it doesn’t say something like “help i got shanked and now my liver is flopping around on the ground like a beached fish” then he’ll promptly forget what he just read. At the end of the day he might flip through his messages to check what he missed but normally he relies on Legend to fill him in on anything important.
Sky - Forgets which group chats hold which roommates so he’s the guy who will start a new chat every time he has a question. Has basically every permutation of group chats possible and yet will still find a way to make more. And he gives them names like “get milk” and “hairdryer?” so you never know whos in the group chat at a glance. It’s impossible to find anything. Plus, he sends texts half-asleep that mean nothing when he gets woken up too early.
Four - His texts are inconsistent as hell. Sometimes its emoji hell, sometimes it’s MLA essay format. But two things are always consistent: you can always detect the sarcasm and he’ll turn on his read receipts just to let you know he left you on read.
Time - Texts in full sentences but overall is a normal texter. But he types with his pointer finger with two hands so his real crime is being old.
Dark - When he got put away texting was in its infancy so he texts like “G8 C u L8r” and “ur 2 much”. The first time he texts Time after he gets out Time feels his soul vaporized by the blast from the past. Thankfully it only takes Dark one text to Shadow before the boy is physically showing up outside Dark's door to bring him into this century.
Shadow - Spams dumbass videos and memes like his life depends on it. His job is a lot of waiting around so he’s got time to kill and you Will receive messages from him at 39 mph (memes per hour).
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The Mysterious Man or Why You Shouldn’t Make Deals with Enigmatic Entities Theme: Fairy Tale Format: Short Story/Fairy Tale Re-enactment Characters: Stork (Storm Hawks), Xelloss (Slayers), Finn (Storm Hawks), Junko (Storm Hawks), Martina (Slayers), Zangulus (Slayers) Pairing(s): One-sided Xelloss/Stork, One-sided Forced Martina/Stork, Martina/Zangulus at the end Rating/Warnings: K+ Words: 2879 Other: The tale of how a captured Stork sought out help from someone who could turn hay into gold. However, does this man have good intentions for his deeds? Inspired by Rumpelstiltskin.
Once upon a time in a far-off kingdom, there lived three farmers, Finn the human, Junko the Wallop, and Stork the Merb. They were okay farmers, mostly harvesting food for themselves. One day, the three went off towards the market to get supplies for their next crop. Stork though wanted to see the latest in magical protection wards.
“Dude, Stork, why do even buy those fake charms anyway?” asked Finn, raising an eyebrow.
“These aren’t fake,” Stork sneered. “They’re to protect me against ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and anything else like that.” Then, he sighed. “Unfortunately, they don’t protect me against idiots.”
Anyway, they made it to the market where it was busy, even more so with the Royal entourage there. They had set up a stage in the middle of it with guards in front. The people crowded around as the king stood up there with his daughter behind him.
“Attention, everyone!” he called out. “I regret to inform you that according to the Royal Treasurer, our kingdom is now considered broke.” The crowd became shocked before getting very mad, much to the king’s worry. “Now, now. This comes as a shock to us as well. It’s not like we overspent on certain items like expanding the Royal army, or the new pool for our castle, or Martina’s new clothes-!”
“Quiet, father!” The princess, Martina shouted before turning to the rabble. “In any case, we need to find a solution and quickly! If any of you have an idea, we would like to hear it!”
The crowd soon turned quiet, muttering to themselves about what to do. Though not much came to their minds. Then, from the far back, Finn shouted, “Wait! Stork can turn hay into gold!”
This came as a big surprise to everyone, especially Stork himself. “… I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.” He smirked. “You said it yourself when we were shopping a month ago. Right, Junko?”
“Oh yea, you did,” Junko agreed.
Mentally slapping himself, he explained, “That’s not what I said! I said with how prices are, hay should be gold!”
“Oh… Oops.” But before they could correct the matter, the guards took Stork and dragged him to the castle.
---
That night at the castle, Stork was thrown into a large but dreary room. There was a lot of hay filling it, almost reaching towards the ceiling. As his hay fever was acting up, he wanted to leave. Unfortunately, the guards as well as the princess stood in front of the only door.
“Now, listen, peasant!” she started, “You have the entire night to turn all this hay into gold. But if you fail to do so, there will be dire consequences!”
“… What kind of dire consequences?” he asked, feeling like he knew the answer already. She pointed over to a very large guard with a large and sharp axe. He gulped, rubbing his neck. And with that, she and the guards left.
Shortly after, Stork lamented his situation. It wasn’t like how he had imagined he would die. But death by execution wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. As he continued to sulk, he wished for a way out.
“Hello there.”
His ears perked up as he looked to who said that. Not too far from him stood a strange-looking man. He had purple hair in a priest’s cut, his eyes were closed, and he held a staff in his hand. Next to him, there was a spinning wheel that looked unremarkable but felt enchanted. Bowing, he said, “I couldn’t help but notice your dilemma, and I am willing to offer my services for a price. Perhaps that talisman you carry around.”
“How ‘bout no,” Stork answered, much to his shock. “You don’t think I know how this works. I hand you the charm, you make the gold. They’ll think I did it, so they’ll put more hay in. Then, you’ll come back and ask for something else. This repeats until you ask me for something I absolutely can’t give. Well, I don’t accept any of your help and you can leave me alone, thank you very much!”
Placing a hand on his head, the man smiled. “Wow, I’m quite impressed that you were able to see through my façade. But there are still the dire consequences if you cannot make this all gold. Besides, do you still want a useless fake charm since I’m here and unaffected by it?”
He glared at him, his eye twitching. After a while, he sighed before handing the charm over. Taking it, he started to get to work, spinning all the hay into gold. The piles before slowly shrank as new piles of coins started to fill the room. Stork watched all this with suspicion until he got very tired and took a nap. After the last needle of hay was spun through, the man disappeared along with his spinning wheel.
With the door slamming open, Stork awoke to Martina, the king, and the royal guards walking in. Their eyes widened at the mountains of gold that littered the room. The king clasped his hands as he smiled. “Wow! How marvelous! This is a lot of gold for the hay we gave you.”
“… So, I can go, right?” he asked, almost hopeful.
“Ha! As if!” She gawked. “You still need to make more gold!” With a snap of her fingers, the guards quickly took the gold from the room. They soon replaced it with hay, a lot more than before. After which, they left, leaving him all alone again.
---
That night, he lamented his current situation. Perhaps he should’ve taken the dire consequences over the man’s help. Now he was expected to make even more gold. Clasping his hands over his head, he wondered what he should do now.
“Psst! Stork! Over here!” His ear twitched as he faintly heard the sound of what he recognized to be Finn’s voice. He got up, walked over to the only window and looked down. To his surprise, he saw Finn and Junko standing outside the castle wall.
“Moo!”
… Along with their only cow.
“What are you doing here?!” Stork asked, a bit exasperated.
We’re here to rescue you!” Junko yelled in a semi-quiet voice. “We got worried when you didn’t come back today!”
Finn nodded while also grinning. “… And we also wanted to know if you’ve managed to turn hay into gold too.”
“Uh huh,” he said, not wanting to get his hopes up. “May I ask what your plan is for getting me out?”
“We’re working on it!” The young human shouted back.
“… Does it involve the family cow?”
“Yea! Bessie wanted to help too!” Junko smiled as the cow let out a moo. Stork sighed, realizing that he was doomed. At least things couldn’t get any worse.
“Hello again.”
He shuddered. Of course, it could.
The same man from the night before sat outside the castle ledge as he glanced over at the trapped figure. “I see they want more gold this time. I’ll be willing to help again in exchange for something.”
“… Stork, who’s that?” Finn asked, raising an eyebrow.
Before he could answer, the man said, “Oh, just someone passing by and wanting to do a good deed. Though it’s not for free…” He placed a hand on his chin, pondering for a moment. “Perhaps the cow this time then.”
“What? Bessie!” Junko became worried before wrapping his arms around the cow. “No! I won’t let you!”
“Dude, seriously?! He says he’s gonna help Stork!” Finn looked over at him, seemingly annoyed.
“Yea, but it’s Bessie! She’s a good girl!” Tears started to well up in his eyes as the beast didn’t seem to care much.
“Well, I only suggested the cow,” the man said, “It can be anything, really.”
“Like what?” Stork looked over, dreading what he would suggest.
He thought for a moment before raising his finger. “Oh! How ‘bout your clothes?!”
With his mouth furthering into a deep pout, he stayed silent before looking back down. “Junko, give him the cow.”
Groaning, the wallop reluctantly agreed though he wouldn’t forgive him and Finn for it. The man smirked, snapping his fingers as the cow disappeared. Then, he popped right into the room with his spinning wheel and got to work. Like before, the piles of hay miraculously turned into gold. Stork watched the process before dozing off again. After a while, the mysterious man completed his work and then disappeared again.
When morning arrived, the king, princess, and guards came in. Now, they were even more impressed by the mountains of gold that littered the room. “Wow! This is so much more than before! Maybe we can afford that new stylish carriage with this!”
“… Can I at least go now?” asked Stork, tired of all this.
“Not so fast!” Martina exclaimed. “We still have another load of hay for you! Once you managed to turn that into gold, then perhaps…” She then looked away, her cheeks becoming red. “I would make you my husband… Despite you’re creepy charm.”
“B-but, dear!” the king stammered, ignoring an offended merb. “You’re really considering marriage to him?! He’s not even human!”
“Quiet, father! You’re not even considering the big picture! If we’re married, then our children will be able to have the gift of turning hay into gold!” She smirked, laughing maniacally. Now seeing his daughter’s reasoning, the king smiled. And with that, the guards traded the gold out for hay again and they all left once more.
---
As night came, Stork waited, not looking as brooding as the last couple of nights. Just then, the man reappeared with his spinning wheel again. “Ah, I see that you’re in a better mood than before.”
“Oh yes,” he said, his eyes becoming undeterred. “I already know what you’re going to ask for. My firstborn child, right?”
Mirroring his own smirk, he nodded. “Well then?”
He remained silent for a moment, thinking it over. Then surprisingly, he put his hand out. “Deal.”
“… Huh?”
“I, Stork, am willing to give my firstborn in exchange for you turning this hay into gold.” Another moment of silence filled the air as he stared at him. “Well, are you going to do it or not?”
The man, looking stunned by this, tilted his head in thought before shaking his hand. “Very well.”
Stork smirked as he executed his plan flawlessly. What he didn’t know was that he did not plan to have children at any time. So, he could not get it and he would be finally free of him. In any case, he gleefully sat as the man turned all the hay into gold. Once he was finished, he disappeared again, leaving a very happy Stork.
---
When the morning came, the royal court was even more surprised to see the vast piles of gold. True to her word, Martina declared Stork to be her new husband and the two got married shortly after. The rest of the year was uneventful for the most part. He had been looking over divorce laws while she tried her best to sleep with him. But she couldn’t force herself to do so, which he was very glad for. Anyway, one year had passed and the mysterious man popped up once again.
“Hello! I’m here to take my payment now!”
“Aha! I’ve tricked you, you jerk!” exclaimed Stork. “For you see, I knew you would agree to it! But unfortunately for you, I never planned to have kids! So, so long! Hope to never see you again!”
The man’s closed eye twitched as he slowly became irritated. “Oh really…” He then leaned in close to a now hesitant merb. “In that case, I guess I would be taking you then.”
“… What?”
“I did say you can give me something else, yes?” A dark smile formed on his face. “If I can’t have your child, then your body will do just fine. Now, shall we get going?”
Stork gulped, his knees shaking at the sight of a person not liking being duped. Then, Martina burst into the room, also looking aggravated. “Hold it right there! Who is this man and what do you mean you don’t want kids?”
The man quickly switched back to his pleasant self before bowing to her. “Oh, I am sorry. I am the man who has been helping your husband. However, he seems to have cheated out of my deal, so I’m just going to take him instead.”
“Ha! Like I would let you take my husband! … Even if he’s creepy… And unpleasant… And I don’t really get his poetry…” She looked away as Stork stood irritated in the background. “In any case, he’s still my husband and I won’t let you!”
“I see… Then perhaps a game,” he suggested.
She raised an eyebrow, slightly curious. “What kind of game?”
“A simple one.” He smirked. “If anyone can guess my name, then I will be willing to let bygones be bygones. If not, then I will take your husband with me.”
Martina thought for a moment, before nodding. “Deal!”
With that, the man disappeared, leaving the two alone. She then looked over at Stork, asking, “By any chance, do you have any idea on what his name is?”
“Unfortunately…” Stork hesitantly chuckled, “No.”
---
Not long after, Martina called for the services of Finn and Junko. She told them the details of what had happened and asked them to find out who the mysterious man was. Thus, they traveled over the land, asking the wisest wizards and scholars. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any answer, leaving the two stumped.
“Geez! Leave it to Stork to end up in this mess,” Finn complained as he and Junko traversed through a dark forest.
“I hope it’s not a hard name to remember…” His ears drooped. “Like Rumpelstiltskin.”
“It’s not Rumpelstiltskin. It’s Remmy Skilskit.”
“Really?” He tilted his head. “I thought it was Rodger Slalpick.”
“No, no!” Finn waved his hands. “That’s Randy Solkick.”
“Really, ‘cause I thought-!” The two stopped and became quiet all of a sudden. Far off in the distance, they heard music playing. They slowly approached the source towards a clearing. There, they saw goblins and sprites dancing around. And much to their surprise, there was the man, who was singing a catchy ditty.
“Oh hooray, it has come to past, Soon, I’ll have the Merb at last For he thought I would be easily trick But I’ll show him that I’m very slick For who can ever win this game As Mister Xelloss is my name.”
The two eagerly listened in before retreating back into the thicket. Finn snickered as he smirked. “Heh! What do you know? He said his own name.”
“Yea.” Junko nodded. “And Xelloss is easy to remember.”
---
The next day, the mysterious man came back to the palace with a waiting Stork and Martina, along with Finn and Junko. “So, I see you’re all here to guess my name.” He smiled evilly, his hand tapping his staff. “Well, what is it then?”
Without wasting time, Stork stepped up and coughed. “… It’s Xelloss, right?”
“W-What?” Xelloss stammered, becoming stunned.
“It’s Xelloss. That’s your name.” His eyes narrowed at the surprised man. “Now, can you leave me alone?”
He was silent for a moment, looking embarrassed. “Well… You see…”
Before he could continue, a man with a sword came bursting into the room. “ALRIGHT! Where’s my greatest rival?!”
Everyone stared at him, confused by his appearance. Except for Martina, who seemed to be awestruck. “My… What an incredibly handsome man you are…”
“… Excuse me?” he asked, now becoming confused as well.
“Oh don’t worry. There’s nothing here for us to do anyway,” she said, as she wrapped herself around his arm. “Let’s go somewhere else, where my soon-to-be-ex and his friends won’t bother us.”
As the two took their leave, the rest watched, their heads hurting from trying to make sense of it. Stork soon snapped back before glaring at Xelloss again. “Well, are you going to leave?”
“Umm, well, you see…” he scratched his face. “The deal was that I wouldn’t take you if you guess my name correctly. I never said that I would be leaving you alone.”
Hearing this, he became very pale. “And why should I?! You’re a wonderful source of negative emotions to feed on! Oh what fun! Think of all the time we can spend together, me feeding off your pessimism and annoyance! I think we might as well be best friends!”
Twitching, Stork remained silent for a moment. Then, surprisingly, he grabbed Xelloss, dragging him over to a window and tossing him out. “There! I should’ve done that in the first place!”
“Yea, I guess.” Finn shrugged. “Hopefully, we don’t see that guy again.”
And so, everything pretty much went back to normal. Martina divorced Stork and took on the swordsman she met as her new husband. No one in the kingdom questioned it as they didn’t care that much. He, along with Finn and Junko, went back to their small farm. Unfortunately, Xelloss popped up every now and then, much to his annoyance.
The End
#Slayers Rare Pairs Week#Storm Hawks#Slayers#Stork#Finn#Junko#Xelloss#Martina#Zangulus#I apologize for any mistakes#I got this done in about three days
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I did an oops.
Chapter 4 of Stardust Dreams is up, and it's a longer one (10.5k words, roughly).
Unfortunately, I fucked up the text when pasting it into AO3 and it broke my formatting, so none of the internal dialogue via their separate channels was in italics as it should be, so it kind of looked like a mess and made little sense if you couldn't suss out what was happening. It's fixed now, but my apologies if you read it and couldn't figure out wtf was going on.
Anyhow, if you want death and smut and my homage to the weirdest part of 2001: A Space Odyssey, one of my all-time favorite books, then you can read Unification now.
#data soong#commander data#lore soong#lore star trek#star trek#star trek tng#star trek the next generation#fanfic#fanfiction
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Kent Falls was at the center of a lot of Jack’s best memories. The first that came to mind was a trip with his mother and father, around the age of seven. He remembered walking up the steps to the very top of the waterfall, and all of the different little lookout spots along the way. He remembered asking his mother if he could climb the rocks, and the immediate no that followed. He could still feel the mist that had clumped his lashes together during his first visit.
Then, a field trip — maybe at eight or nine years old, and how he’d bragged to all of his friends that he’d been there before. Jack took initiative as the expert, of course, leading his group of friends up the steps, to the very top, and showing them the best lookout spots along the way.
Then, high school. Partying with friends, sneaking in after hours, catapulting himself off of a ledge and into the water just because he could. There was no mother around to tell him no — only a group of friends that he wanted to impress.
And many other times, in between and after all of those memories. Many trips back to this waterfall.
Alice seemed to like it. It was, in her words, fucking beautiful. Worthy of a million points. Good boy points, cool boy points. There was even talk of new categories.
Jack smiled.
Cora sniffed at the rocks along the edge of the water, wagging her tail.
“I’m glad you like it,” Jack said. He crouched down, petting Cora behind her ears. She sat, leaning into him for more pets.
“You used to be able to swim in this pool area when I was growing up. And at the top, but — people kept leaving a bunch of trash in the water, so. You’re not allowed to anymore.”
It was a major bummer.
“I used to climb up that side —” He paused, pointing to the jagged rock formations to the left of the water. “And I’d just stick my head under the running water for a bit. It felt so good, especially on a really hot day.”
Jack smiled at the memory.
“Uhhh. One time though, I did slip, and I broke my leg.”
Jack grimaced at the memory. He swore he could still feel the way his bone snapped in two whenever he thought about it.
Jack extended his left leg, brandishing a scar just a few inches below his left knee cap.
“Oops, right? After that, I made sure to insure both of my legs for millions of dollars each.”
Quiet or trouble?
Maybe both, according to Jack.
'I like to play it by ear,'
'Not much of a planner.'
A chuckle. A gentle breeze fans Alice's hair, curls still dark and defined from her shower.
"I'm beginning to understand that."
Alice was really beginning to understand that. After all— this trip itself had been impulsive, hadn't it?
Not to mention their bargain: Jack's good boy points exchanged for a trip to New Mexico. Them, journeying into the canyon together in search of a gem the shade of Alice's eyes.
The idea of it makes another shiver jump down her spine. Cora bounds along the path, tail whipping excitedly as she explores.
And that was one of the appealing things about Jack, wasn't it? Who else would suggest such a thing? Flitting off to the other side of the country to remote wilderness? Alice had never encountered another man who had dove in so quickly— who accepted Alice, with such gusto, who smiled at her and requested her hand in the car, who made a point to let Alice know how helpful a kiss on the cheek would be.
Who took her to a fucking waterfall.
Alice has been so engrossed in her thoughts that she's missed all the signs; before her, now, is a touring waterfall, a fine mist cloaking the area in white, trees circling the area like decorative columns.
Fuck.
'This is Kent Falls. I grew up coming here. The view's pretty nice.'
Alice grins wildly.
"Jack, this is fucking beautiful."
Her arms spread, palms turned upwards to feel the the fine spray of water drifting through the air. Imagine writing next the slap and thunder of the water. It'd be hypnotic. Calming.
"You get a million points for this. Cool boy points, good boy points. Maybe even a new category.
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