#probably way too many other ideas floating around as well
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midnight1nk · 2 days ago
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So, this week's episode...
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[spoilers below cut]
OH BOY, here we go again!! A bit late but I have returned for the latest episode, and lucky for me, I haven't seen any spoilers and not even the thumbnail....
*turns to Team* why is the Castle in the background? Wha? HUH?
(the following is my live reaction:)
ay, the intro!! it never gets old for me 💙 that's my beloved Saturday Morning Cartoon (TM)
looks like we're continuing on from the last one, if it's what I'm assuming here
I gotta say, quite convenient to have a bunch of stuff at their disposal. not that I'm surprised ofc, haha
also in this household, we respect Toomp! (I mean, have you seen the list of crimes he did. Got the queen, that's for sure)
wait, is that…. deltarune chapter 3 music? no, like I swear it is!! heh, I suppose the Team was gonna use this track sooner or later (who can resist tv time?)
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I mean, I already suspected Puzzles made her own robotic body, sooooo she ain't wrong
Puzzles: "No matter how dangerous it may be, it's a risk I'm willing to have you take." *WHEEZE*
Ah, looks like WPNZ did manage to get to the junkyard
He's just standing there. MENACINGLY. <- WPNZ, probably
(c'mon, dude. Toomp's just a silly lil guy ^^)
waitwaitwait, hold your horses!! we're not going let that pass by and not talk about it
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"death cube"? well, that's new. The only other cube-related thing I could remember at the moment, was the one 4 and Mario were in (the gamecube 2 one)
Was this what Meggy saw in the sentencing? I mean, it's pretty obvious that the tv literally says "sentenced to death cube" but y'know. gotta think about the possibilities here, especially for me
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#RespectForToomp (and watch him being the most important character for at least this arc)
dude, it's a junkyard. Not exactly a five-star quality workshop /lh
PUZZLES, YOU DIDN'T KNOW??!?!?
also hi Pauline (love that she's back in the show after so many years, but it conveniently works out in my OC lore, that being they're related/connected to Pauline ^^)
that's shadowy figure is the death cube? oh, I thought it was a contraption but that makes it way worse, huh
WOAHWOAHWOAH hold up
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Puzzles' dialogue text is glitching?
Technically it wouldn't be the first time glitching happens to Puzzles when overwhelmed, most recently being WOTFI '24. The text tho, that's interesting. hmmmmm [Transcript added to the Court Record]
Puzzles: "YOU CAN'T RUSH ART" <- true true 😌↕️ (I pretty much say that about my 20+ WIPs)
THE MARIO BALLOON BODY *WHEEZE* I just imagine WPNZ being held onto by a single string... and potentially floating away
why do I feel like the child of divorce here? /silly
uh. anyway, I present to you this:
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la creatura :)
(but I gotta say, what a great scene)
WPNZ: "Hah! You tell 'im, slimeball" aw, that was actually sweet. I mean, look at toomp, he looks so happy like "^^"
whoop, so that's why Puzzles disconnected
A phone call? Is it Meggy?
FRENCH 🫵
IT'S MEGGY
how on earth did the Team capture my phone-call-anxiety perfectly with that? /lh
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ah, so it was that. Makes sense, being death row and all. Crazy that Hal came up with this idea, but then again, this isn't the SMG4 universe which you can't exactly "die" the normal way
now, about Meggy's scene here. I do have thoughts about (which ofc I'll talk about them later) but I will say this: I stand by what I said previously about mixed feelings and I do understand what Meggy's doing, while still concerned about meeting up at the Castle. But in the good sense, this arc has me invested
back to the plot in hand... *toomp looming over wpnz* oh hey toomp!
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ough, that was like a punch right in the gut
like it really hits when you start learning about the complexities for not only WPNZ but Puzzles too, especially if you were around the time reading the redemption talks I posted
AND and, even more that WPNZ truly opened up about his emotions like that, to Puzzles who he just met for at least a few days
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THAT LOOK, I gotta say that wowed me
Puzzles doesn't exactly know how to express her emotions, that much is true, and certainly wouldn't know how to respond to what WPNZ said. The last part, specifically, considering y'know. Puzzles' past. She wouldn't be fond of remembering it so I can see this as coping(??). For the very least, Puzzles could tell that WPNZ meant it tho
back to expressing emotions thing, a lot of characters reacting to Puzzles' said action are confused by it. Or they don't even care at all. WPNZ, other than Leggy ofc, reacted differently. Positive, almost like he's charmed by it
(checking up on the gunshow shippers: how yall doing?)
ALSO also wait, did Puzzles say "play"? It may be a coincidence by the writers themselves, and maybe that's my theorist mind sounding the alarms as usual. But I am also reporter, and I don't forget about the teasers the Team posted
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"but the play has just begun" they somehow brought this back, the teaser was relevant after all. I gotta say, Team: well played, either way
so enough about be rambling, let's get back to work!! *passes out dead tired*
oh hey toomp :) I suppose it's time to execute that idea he was holding onto
"I don't trust him" and I would go to war for him, so what? also no need to jump the gun that early (ba dum tsss, I'm not funny)
Puzzles saying "young man" and WPNZ surprised by the talent truly has me convinced that Toomp's their son now ADJK;JKL
break-out time? 👀
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"one more task"? perhaps one more episode (before the movie)? :D
oh boy, here we go!!
Puzzles: "Sure...pal" oop, is that complex emotions I see? conflicted thoughts, hmmmm??
YOU CAN'T JUST END IT THERE, I WANT MORE!!
Congrats to BerzackLike for your art being featured at the end credits!! 🎉 fantastic fanart btw ^^
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.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.
Yet another banger episode!! Team, it was so well done, especially the writing. I love the dynamic between our villain team. That recurring bit with Toomp appearing more and more menacing really got me crackling. Some of the lines got to me tbh.
also, gunshow shippers: how were yall holding up? 💙
And y'know me, I've been doing a bit of theorising myself. Some curious stuff indeed. I gotta say: the arc has been going pretty solid so far, props to the Team for that.
So... about Meggy and my thoughts on that particular scene. Immediately after watching that scene, I could sense that there was gonna be some discourse over it. Not only did some of it return from the "Split" episode, but also bc Meggy set the meet-up at the Castle. As a long-time viewer of the show and one to talk about character exploration, I do want to share my perspective on it and hopefully, it'll help some of yall understand it too.
And for our sakes, I'll leave the first part of the scene bc I think it's absolutely crucial:
Yall must know the biggest part of all this, and it bears repeating it: Things aren't as black and white as they seem. They're complex, even complicated/conflicting at times, and we tend to forget that people can have mixed feelings about certain people. This, just as good storytelling pursues, is grounded in reality. Sure, these characters are fictional and it's a silly lil meme show, but viewers can resonate with the characters bc they can see themselves in them. Perhaps having mixed feelings for someone isn't something everyone can resonate with, but for some it does. To feel seen, to feel understood.
I can tell you, from personal experience, I have mixed feelings for certain people in my life. Some have done unforgivable things, others I'm willing to give a second chance to. Ultimately, while I can offer as much help as I can, the choice to change is up to them. After all:
redemption ≠ forgiveness ≠ forgetting
Now, back to Meggy, I've seen people's reactions over this. Believe me, a lot was toxic, saying that "she was stupid for meeting up at the Castle" or "how could she forgive Puzzles after all the pain she went through" <- and that's just the lighter stuff. So, here I say it: Meggy considering (which isn't outright "accepting the job") to be legal rep for Puzzles DOES NOT MEAN she forgives him. As she said, she needs proof that he's changed and only then, she can accept the job. One consultation. Besides, it's not like they're gonna go their jolly way and everything will turn out happily ever after. Puzzles still has to face the consequences, she said so herself. On that note, in this ask I answered previously from my inbox, I have talked about her consideration and character if yall wanna know more.
"Why would she set the meet-up? Couldn't she tell he was faking it?"
She wants the truth, and it isn't the same getting it through a call or a video. It'll have to be face-to-face, and I can imagine it that once she does, she'll make her choice. As she said, no tricks or schemes. The truth, just as it is. While she is offering a chance for Puzzles to prove himself, there is a difference between "receiving help" and "wanting help". Again, that choice to change, it falls on Puzzles.
"Why would she do it at the Castle? Why not in prison, where it's more secure?"
While it is concerning, I can understand why she might've done it. Her last encounter with Puzzles was when she was home alone, and after the trauma she went through being forced to be Leggy, her home's out of the question. Now prison wouldn't be a problem except for one: no one knew about the deal she had with Leggy. Maybe there are some hurdles she can go through to meet a potential client in death row, but if someone finds out she was meeting with Puzzles, they might tell the others. The Castle isn't a bad option, and I could imagine Meggy waiting until 4's out for the day or something. There would be plenty of space, someplace where she's comfortable in, and the Crew would be nearby if things went south. I mean she was careful enough to have her number as "private ID". Yes, it could be understandable, but it is concerning too. Meggy is going behind her friends' backs and likely bc it'll be hard to explain why she's doing it for them to understand. And then on top of that, she lied about not doing the deal with Leggy at all. I had a sense that it's gonna spiral out of control and the Crew might misinterpret it, ironically how the audience toxic discourse has been talking about it. And worst of all, if 4 found out about it. Next to Meggy, 4 went through so much trauma and pain so to see that one of your friends invited the person who caused said thing into your own home, I could see him feeling betrayed. Therefore, causing a rift in the Crew when they need to be more open and understanding.
Also concerning that (1) the Puzzle Park rides 4 got are stored somewhere in the Showgrounds and are the same ones with a goo, (2) Puzzles is certainly aware of the Castle's layout/electricity grid bc of the PV saga, and (3) WPNZ, who Meggy never met, probably believed it is an actual hut on the Crew. Again, it's a "they don't know what we know" kinda thing.
This meeting is going to go wrong somehow, and eventually what happened at the start of the arc is gonna circle back now. Which also means Meggy might face some repercussions for it. What can I say, it's complex, and it's what's getting me invested in the arc!! I know it's what the Team intended too, ever since the end of SOTC:
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"Character exploration", it's what the Team are doing with this arc too, with complexity of redemption and characters. Well, these are my thoughts, but I'd say: LET THEM COOK
I tried my best to explain it the way I see it, and do hope it isn't me going about it in circles. Again, while there are actions I don't condone and believe in accountability, it's understandable why. Regardless, I am very excited about the rest of the arc and I honestly don't know what to expect so I can't say I got expectations at the moment. Other than the security cam, but yall know me already. That's all I have, I'll see yall in the next one, and remember: numbers always go first.
....but seriously, I can't be the only one hung up on the security camera from the last episode.
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Like, are we not gonna talk about this? Why would the Team do an ominous shot on that cam if it's not gonna be relevant? Something's up, and I swear it's gonna be another "that door..." situation for me. No, I don't need an intervention—
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veifei · 9 months ago
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guysss im so stuck on what fic to work on next....i might do a poll since im plagued by indecisiveness
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yan-lorkai · 3 months ago
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Request: I was rereading your Platonic yan Lillia as Father figure and I had an idea. Feel free to ignore if you think its too redundant. How do you think the Main story would playout differently with Plat Yan Lillia being in the story? basically, he just decides to adopt you like in your initial HC, and how that might alter the main story.
also as some optional caveats/ questions to add the scenario, if your interested.
Since book 7 isn't done yet (as of this writing, at least) you can feel free to ignore it if you wish. Or at least, Lillia is still at full power and completely fine. (trying to avoid b7 spoilers if you haven't read it yet, but if your their, you'll know what I mean).
With Plat Yan Lillia being who he is, do you think he would pass those traits on to the other Diasomnia boys?
Alot of Malleus HC's (yan or otherwise) involve him using his magic to turn reader/MC into a fey or finding a way to prolong their life, so they won't lose them. Do you think Lillia would do similar for silver or Reader, if he could? He's probably more knowledgeable on magic than Malleus would be to begin with.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡゚ a/n: ngl when I first received this request, I was so excited to write it but had way too many ideas so I kept going back and forth about how to write it, in fact. And well, one thing led to another and a long time had passed, diasomnia chapter even ended recently lmao. Regardless, anon, I hope you're still lurking here and like this. Sorry for such tardiness in answering this request, though. This post is long btw >:D
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Lilia Vanrouge is a simple fae, really. He sees a helpless, anxious kid, and he adopt them, no questions asked, no what ifs or buts. This is literally how you two met. He was floating around looking for Malleus when he noticed Crowley leading you, sweet, anxious you, through the corridors, speaking about this and that without particularly caring of what you were feeling, the way you were shaking and gasping for air, the way you were biting your lips and gnawing at your cuticles.
Normally he would go away, as he have nothing to do with it, but his fae instincts kicked in and he stayed there, watching, curious.
Maybe it was your pitiful, sad appearance, your fear so alluring and funny to him. Maybe it was the little tears trickling down your face as you heard that there was no known way to go back to your world - you were from another world, how interesting, he had never met someone from another world.
Yet, he chose to act.
So softly and gently as when he used to soothe Silver after a nightmare, approaching you casually, voice smooth promising you that everything would be fine and that you could trust him, that you could lean on him. It was alright to cry, be anxious and fearful, and it was alright because the situation was stressful.
And you did.
You trusted him enough to let him deal with Crowley, as you were too busy trying to calm your anxious heart down, trying to pay attention to your surroundings, to what they were talking. And this changed everything, first of all:
Your dorm.
"Is this one to your liking?" Lilia asks you, tilting his head to look up to you. In front of you, a simple but comfortable room was offered to you, a much better option than the inhospitable, dusty, broken dorm that Crowley was going to force put you and that strange raccoon.
There you would either shiver in the cold, surrounded by dust and cobwebs and nosy ghosts, or sweat in the excessive heat, without the option of a working air conditioner. Here, you had warm blankets and spells that would allow you to sleep perfectly regardless of the weather.
You wander inside it, opening the windows and the empty cabinets, still unsure that you deserved such kindness from a stranger like him. He had done so much in so little time. You turn to look at Lilia again. "Can I really stay here? I can't repay you, you know. I don't have magic, what if-"
He shushes you quickly, patting your head gently as he would with a crying child. It didn’t matter to him that you were magicless - he would dare say that add to the charm. You were just like a fawn surrounded by wolves. A sheep among dragons.
You were nothing.
Yet, there was something to you that made Lilia protective.
"You don't have magic, so what? Many humans don't. In fact, the mages are a small portion of humans that still have magic on their veins. This doesn't make you any different to me and you deserve a good room, and good people to support in these trying times." Lilia nodded to his own words, a little proud that you were slowly coming around as the reality seemed to be dawning on you.
There was a knot at your throat, a sting on your eyes. He seemed to know as his voice turned even more gentler.
"If the mirror had chosen you, stay and study, no need to repay me anything." He concluded before pulling you to your feet with his soft hands, smoothing down your wrinkled clothes. "Now come, let's get some food on that belly of yours, kiddo. I can't have you starving now, can I?"
As if to embarrassing you further, your stomach growls right at the moment and your whole face got hot while Lilia laughed. You made him feel much younger than he truly is; he missed that feeling.
He missed having someone he can protect and take care of, after all, his children are all grown up and strong, and don't need him that much anymore.
"Oh, that's right" you heard him saying. "I want to introduce you to Malleus, Silver and Sebek. Come, come."
Your academics.
"Hm... Lilia?" You call him, searching for him among the sea of other students. There's tons of books that you're holding in for dear life; some are introductory books on concepts of magic and others on magical symbols, in general, they are complementary books that you should read to understand the subject covered in the first year, even more because you don't have magic nor are you from this world.
Suddenly, tons of books are lifted from your hands with great ease. "Don't be stupid, human. Your fragile arms can't handle this weight."
It's Sebek. Then another pair of hands come to rest over your shoulders and you turn your neck to see who it is; Malleus, his expression much reminding you of a puppy by his pout.
"We have our own space to study, beastie, come." He tells you, all the while he is forcing you to walk as he guides you to their secret, shared place. Sebek is carrying most of your books as you ponder where they had come from.
Since day one, they seemed so fond of you, treating you with such care that almost made you cry late at night for how fortunate you are to have them in this world. It was way too early to say that but you loved having them around as they helped you with all your doubts and never forgot to include you in their plans, even if they were a little forceful while they fought a little for your attention.
It was cute, in a way.
Almost as if suddenly you had three brothers. And an eccentric father, as well.
Silver was sleeping over his book, oh so serenely, his hair spilling over his cheeks as he was biting his lips - probably due to some strange dream. You occupied the empty seat by Malleus side, finally releasing all that height that you had been fighting to hold.
"Lilia said he would help study these books. Do you know if he is nearby?" You asked him and Malleus sighed.
Hos eyes skim over those titles, almost as if they don't hold any value to him. Coming from a prince, perhaps all this knowlegment isn't pertinent.
You remember hearing Lilia's ramblings about how spoiled Malleus was when he was a child, how his tantrums were cute - yet dangerous -, how he liked to put bows on his tiny little horns. Lilia lived to ramble about his sons.
"Some of them are outdated, wrong or a waste of your time." Sebek separated the good books from the bad with a single wave of his hand. He was showing off just to see your eyes shining, as always happened when they used magic - yet he would never admit that.
And this time it wasn't different.
There was just a fascination that settled on your eyes as you stared starstruck at any and all display of magic.
"I can explain the core values of magic to you." Suddenly, Silver was awoken. His voice was hoarse and his eyes were almost closing again due to drowsiness, but he seemed to be fighting it just till he could hear your answer.
Touched yet again by their eagerness, you agreed.
"Very well, Silver will explain the basics, and then you had to read this book." Malleus pointed it to you.
You thanked them, hearing attentively Silver's explanation, writing down the things you understand and asking the things you can't seem to grasp the concept. Overall, your study session is amazing and goes really well.
Now, if only you looked up, you would see Lilia hanging on the ceiling like a bat. He is watching over you, over your progress, as he seems really proud of himself for having you make friends with his children.
He knew you would get along well with them. And he made sure to explain to them that they had to welcome you really well into the family, that you were a little skittish and fearful of this new world and that they couldn't tease too much. Lilia is glad they heard him.
They seemed to have taken a liking to you, just as he did. This is great because he is inserting himself even more on your life, and he will manipulate each and every opportunity just so your schedule lines up with your brothers or his.
Your friendships.
You are surrounded by them whether you realize it or not. Normally, Lilia wakes you up, soft voice and funny words as he rubbed your sides to make you laugh or get a reaction out of you. Even if you lock your windows or door, Lilia still finds a way into your room and you guess you don't really know how he is doing that.
If you try to dissuade him from doing it, Lilia acts all cutesy while babying you because, of course, you're grumpy and fuzzy. The day just started!
As morning goes on, you have breakfast with your little family, hearing Sevek praising Malleus and Silver's soft snores as Lilia laugh at his face. It's chaotic and fun, and you feel really good at being there.
Though, it does get a little overbearing after a while. Malleus likes to walk you to your classes, having memorized them the very first day he met you - but the students like to whisper about you.
About how strange you are from associating with someone like him. How it must be dangerous to associate with you, as Malleus has quite the reputation, despite being an absolute sweetheart.
It's quite isolating. Lonely.
There's tons of lively people you want to meet and be friends with, but they don't seem to reciprocate the feeling even more when they realize that that by associating themselves with you, Malleus and his guards would come as a package deal. Most can't deal with that thought alone and so, they ignore you.
And when you cry about it to your dad Lilia, he just sighs and collects you into a big, warm hug. He let's you vent about how futile your attempts to make friends are all the while instilling in you some very questionable thoughts about other people. Because surely they are in the wrong here, right? They are so judgmental, so prejudiced.... He makes you question yourself. After all, do you really want to make friends with people like these?
Perhaps it'd be better to stick around with them and Lilia.
Your life in general.
With no place to run, with no other people to accept you for who you really are, you pass your days studying with Malleus and training with Sebek - it's funny in a way, plus he is so fearful of harming you. Silver is the one responsible for walking you to your classes and taking you to eat lunch with them, if Malleus doesn't notice the passage of time.
He likes to hold you and float with you in his arms. Mostly, when you don't even realize he is in the same room, he just appears, making you have a heart attack while he laughs at your scared face, holding you against his chest as if you're just a kitten. Or, he tries to make you his cute taste tester while he cooks and bakes, and your brothers have to save you - one of these days, he'll still get you to try his muffin. His very cursed muffin.
It's rather a dull routine, waking up, studying, eating and sleeping, but Lilia keeps it funny with his shenanigans, plus he doesn't let you linger too much on your memories about your old world, so as to not let you be saddened that Crowley - who was certainly not coerced to by the diamsonia - hadn't found a way to open another portal yet.
The weekends are your favorite days. You can sleep till midday, read something, or watch Silver and Sebek bickering - the latter is always funny.
Overall, they consume much of your time.
And it stays like this as the years pass. Sometimes, you still miss the old world, as Lilia calls it, but you had to get over it as there was no way to find a way back.
Lilia isn't fazed by this. But perhaps an accident had happened to you or Silver took a bad fall, and this makes Malleus think about how fragile humans are. How easy it is for them to break bones or die from the flu. He hates the thought. He loathes it.
Your mortality isn't something to be missed. The way you continue to grow, to change, as you graduate, you turn into a very beautiful adult. Silver does too, of course, as he too is a human.
He too will disappear as the wind. Gone forever, just in a few years.
He doesn't want to wake up someday and notice that both you and Silver are gone. He won't have you two dying, not on his watch, so as the king of Thorn Valley, he spends an awful amount of time searching about ways to turn you immortal, to stop the natural cycle of life. If someone can do that, it's him.
And Sebek is right there being his right hand man, helping him, instilling even more these thoughts on him, because even if he is a little prideful, he too would hate to lose both you and Silver.
Their research is futile, though. Maybe because of lack of sources or the books had some torn pages and they couldn't reach any conclusion. Not one that matters, that is.
So Malleus asked to meet Lilia. His father continues with his wolfish smile and sweet eyes. Even as the years passed, his vitality was at fullest. And his knowing eyes pronounced that knew what that meeting was about.
Of course, he knew.
Silver is also part of the guard, he must have noticed how strange was Malleus and Sebek's behavior.
And Malleus tells him. About the researches, the inconclusive answers, how they didn't know how to proceed now. How they were lost. How he didn't want to lose both you and Silver. You were just starting to live and in 50 or more years, you would be gone. Lost forever. Never to return.
"Tell me, boy, what you found." His tone is soft, teasing. It sounds like music to Malleus ears, a smooth song he plans to hear for a long time yet.
He would do the same for Lilia. Wouldn't stop at nothing to find a way to save him if he was dying.
Malleus doesn't bear well the thought that he would see your casket being lowered to the ground, that worms would eat your body until only bones remained. He couldn't live a life knowing he could never again hear you call him "tsunotaro" or how your hands felt when you wrapped cute little bows on his horns. Or how you sang when you thought you were alone.
He couldn't bear to lose Silver. He held that boy on his arms, cuddled him in his sleep, sang him to sleep, and watched him grow. Only to lose him to time? Not happening.
So he begged - unfitting as it was for a king -, he begged his father for help. Almost pleaded, as Lilia lived a very long life and knew a lot. He knew a lot about ancient magic, about lost cultures, about history. He was in so many books. He saw so many empires rise and fall.
"It won't be easy." Lilia says but there's something on his voice that tells Malleus that he knows something. He can do it; stop them from aging. "It will be painful for them in the next year. They may hate you for this too."
"I do not care about this." It's his answer, almost instantly as he looked his father in his eyes. "If you can do it, then please."
Lilia feels good. Of course he was the one passing down those traits for his children - though, you were a little different, sweeter, nicer than your brothers. You would hate the change, Lilia was sure. And he also didn't cared. He too has lost a lot.
He lost Lavern and Maleanor. The two fae he loved the most in the entire world.
And when he lost them, his world had ended. The air was stagnant and polluted. Everything had lost its warmth, its colors. The meaning of everything he had fought for was gone. But then, he found Malleus, a tiny stubborn egg, and then Silver, a lost baby, finally Sebek who was always blabbering about something.
And his heart was healed.
And you too had come to him, the last addition to the family. You had fitted in just like he thought years ago.
"Call Sebek, we might need to discuss a few things."
And Malleus signs for the guard that stands outside to call for Sebek. And as he does so, Lilia glances at the window, enjoying the soft breeze and the sun shining happily. He can see you playing in the river, laughing, with some fae children.
You looks ethereal as human.
And you'll look as much ethereal as a fae, he is sure.
If he tells Malleus he had similar plans or no, to turn both you and Silver, that will depend on his mood. But Lilia knows that by the end of the week, he'll have you both turned into faes.
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gingerteafairy · 5 months ago
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𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞
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Somethings drag on for too long.
tags n warnings: carmy berzatto x reader, language, longtime friends, suggestive, slow burn past. word count: 2.4k masterlist
Everyone knew Carmy was a little bossy. Well, it was part of his job. Maybe he didn’t like giving orders, especially when they often ended with someone yelling or feeling desperate. However, your relationship with him seemed too close to be labeled as authoritarian abuse, free therapy sessions, or toxic interactions. Damn, you had known him for so long. You’d gone through so many seasons together—trends, wines, changes. Everything seemed to evolve except for the complex dynamic between you and Carmen Berzatto.
“That’s wrong.” Carmy’s voice cut through the kitchen noise, as if he could telepathically sense you skimping on a few sealing seconds out of sheer laziness.
“I know,” you replied without looking, reigniting the flame and moving forward. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be good enough.
"God, Carm,” Marcus grumbled, drying his hands to return to his station beside the chef. "Chill."
“She knows how I am,” was all Carmy needed to say, putting a quiet end to the conversation. Each of you returned to your tasks. "She has known me for a long time. Knows how i work."
“Hands!” you called, plating the dish in the designated container. Everything was just as perfect as Carmy had wanted.
“Chef, can you grab my knife from the other station, please?” Carmy asked, lifting his head just enough to meet your eyes.
“I’m only doing this because I love you,” you teased.
You smiled as light as a feather, heading to the sink to wash your hands before fetching what he needed. The air in the kitchen thickened—though perhaps it was floating rather than heavy—because everyone could see the shared sweetness in the smiles you and Carm exchanged over that dish he was finishing with Marcus.
Handing him the knife, your fingers lingered on his for just a second longer than necessary. You could feel the sugary tension in the air, and an involuntary smile tugged at your lips as you returned to your station. Maybe you had known Carm for too long to change anything now.
Carmen found himself watching your back, like he was trying to figure out what expression you were wearing without having to ask. He knew you were focused. The little curve of your lips when things didn’t turn out how you wanted. The way your brows knit together before you relaxed, remembering how frowning could cause wrinkles. He even pictured you mentally griping about your oily skin and how no cream ever seemed to help. The worst part? He was dead-on. And like you, he felt like he’d known you too long to want anything to change.
You could feel his eyes on you. Your cheeks warmed—not from the kitchen’s heat, but from the sparks in Carmy’s blue eyes. You knew his tells: how he scratched his nose when he was nervous, or how Marcus teased him for staring at you too long for just a boss.
Everybody knew. You both knew.
This unspoken game always made time fly. Maybe just the idea of being close to Carmy was more addicting than the idea of actually being with him. Fear of rejection? Probably. Mostly from him.
As the shift wound down, he quietly set a small slice of pie on your workstation and slipped off to check something in the fridge. His shoulder brushed yours as he passed—so subtle, but deliberate.
You found yourself smiling as you packed up and finally rewarded your taste buds with another one of his masterpieces. You’d wanted to go to Copenhagen with him. Not just for the work. You wanted to share those nights on that tiny boat. To bump into him while moving around, bicker over who got the bathroom first, and watch each other over morning coffee.
You took your time with every bite, savoring each piece like it was gold. In the fridge, Carmen lingered. He tried cooling his body, his mind—maybe his whole life. He worried the pie had come out too dense. He didn’t realize he’d been gone too long until the silence got heavy, and he timidly twisted the lock.
You were still there, pie half-finished.
Damn. Too dense. His chest tightened at your slow chewing, not realizing it was for the opposite reason—it was light as air, like the curls brushing his forehead. You just wanted to savor every second.
“Hey, you wanna head out?” His voice was soft as he scratched the back of his head. He often drove you home after work, but tonight it felt… different.
“Sure.” You took another bite, speeding up to finish. Not a crumb left behind.
“Where to?” He cleared his throat and rubbed his nose. Definitely nervous. That was rare for Carmy. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him this jittery around you.
“I’ll go wherever you go.” You pulled off your apron, stepping toward the lockers.
“Cool. Follow me.”
“I will.”
It felt like a familiar song—something you’d heard a hundred times but never got sick of. Carmy followed you, your lockers side by side. You bent to grab your bag, and his stubborn gaze followed before he quickly looked away as you stood. You both exchanged smiles before heading to his car.
He’d driven you countless times, yet it always felt new to him. You climbed in, and he started the engine. The destination felt as unclear as it did certain—a pull leading you both somewhere.
“There,” you pointed toward a park. He nodded.
It wasn’t too dangerous—people still strolled here at this hour. You gave a small, awkward smile, realizing couples often came here to kiss or lean on each other under the trees. But this was Carmy. What could you do?
He parked and turned off the engine. Neither of you moved. Realizing it, he switched on the heater and reluctantly turned to you. You’d already been looking at him for a while.
“How you doin’?” His voice broke the quiet. You paused, then turned toward him.
“Good. I think.” You didn’t want to overthink it. Life wasn’t bad—just… monotonous. “What about you?”
“Good.” He shifted in his seat, hands gripping the wheel. Then he exhaled. “Actually, no. I’m good, but I’m nervous. I’m always so fucking… wired.”
“Same.” You sighed heavily. “You still in therapy?”
“Yeah… Actually, AA. I told you.”
“That’s right. Sorry, I forgot.” You unbuckled to sit more comfortably. He did the same, resting his hands in his lap. You pulled out your phone. “How are you today?”
The app showed a smiley face that changed with his input. Carmy chuckled, sliding the bar to neutral. Neither positive nor negative. But when he looked at you again, he changed it to a smile. "Good day."
“Where’d you get that?”
“Found it when I was feelin’ pretty low and wanted to track it,” you explained, tucking your phone away. “You’d be surprised how many neutral faces are logged in there.”
“I wouldn’t be any different.” He let out a soft laugh. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with my future. Makes me anxious.”
“Same.” You laughed, though it felt more bittersweet.
Carmy’s phone buzzed. He checked it, shaking his head with a smile.
“What’s up?” You leaned in. He lowered his phone.
“Richie. Sending pictures of half-naked dudes and saying happy birthday. And it’s not even my birthday.”
“That’s your idea of ‘heavy’?” You teased as he put his phone away.
“Yeah… guess it’s not heavy.” His smile lingered as he ran a hand over his face, trying to smother the laugh bubbling up.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“What do you think about dating?” Your heart wavered, but your voice stayed steady. Carmy clicked his tongue, seeming to chew over the question.
He scratched his head, sighing before answering. “I never got far enough to have an opinion. You know that.”
“I know.” You responded, feeling a little more awkward this time. “Have you had your first kiss?”
“Yeah. Actually… I had my first kiss when I was, like, 3.” He laughed, the ridiculous memory shaking through his body. “I was trying to copy… I dunno… something I saw on a soap opera.”
“What were we thinking, huh?” You chuckled with him, the mood lightening, opening up a little more. “I’ve had a few. But I dunno. It’s like, when things start heating up, I kinda lose interest. Like, ‘well, I’m here now.’”
“Yeah… exactly. There are highs—everything’s great for a minute, then…” He traced a sudden dip with his hand, shaking his head. “It just disappears. And I’m stuck there, same as before.”
“Feels like the idea of being close is way more interesting than actual closeness.” You said thoughtfully, and he stopped, snapping his fingers.
“That’s it.” He licked his lips, glancing around before settling his gaze back on you. “We’re cut from the same cloth.”
“Yeah…” You exhaled, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence. “Wanna kiss?”
“Sure.” He laughed, the sound growing louder as you puckered your lips dramatically. “What’s that?”
“A kiss.” You laughed, blowing him an air kiss that he caught and pressed to his chest. Then his hand moved up, pressing to his lips. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Kiss.” He whispered, resting his hands back on his lap. His lips insisted on curving into a smile. You turned your head to hide yours, just like he did.
For a brief moment, you wanted the playful game to continue—wanted something different. But who knows? Maybe that moment had come and gone. Maybe it had stretched too long.
The silence stayed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like something unspoken hung in the air—heavy with expectation. Carmy let out a long breath, rubbing his hands on his thighs like he was trying to work out some kind of nervous energy.
“You think we’ve been putting something off?” he asked, his gaze fixed straight ahead, like he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.
Your heart jumped at the question. Of course, you’d thought about it before, but hearing it from him made it feel real.
“Maybe,” you answered, softer than you intended. “But if we are… what do you wanna do about it?”
Carmy finally turned his head toward you. His blue eyes locked on yours—intense, but laced with uncertainty. “I’m not good at this. Like, saying what I want. What I feel. It’s just easier when I’m working.”
“What if it doesn’t have to be perfect? What if it just… happens?” you suggested, hoping to ease the weight pressing on his chest.
A small, crooked smile tugged at his lips—one of those rare, genuine smiles. “You always make things sound simpler.”
“Maybe because sometimes they are. We just make ‘em complicated.”
You held each other’s gaze for a long moment. The warmth of the car heater wrapped around you both, making the space feel even more intimate. Carmy’s hands tightened on the steering wheel before he let out another deep breath.
“Wanna take a walk?” he asked, his eyes flickering away for a second before landing back on you.
“Yeah,” you said with a soft smile, sensing the shift in the air.
You stepped out of the car together, walking along the park path. Distant sounds of footsteps and laughter filled the night air, mingling with the occasional rustle of leaves. Conversation came easier—work stories, childhood memories, even a few half-formed plans for the future.
After a while, Carmy came to a stop. He turned to face you, hesitation mingling with a newfound determination in his expression.
“Can I try somethin’?” he asked, voice low and careful.
“Yeah. You can.”
He stepped in closer, the distance between you shrinking until the air felt charged, heavy with unsaid words and possibilities. The sounds of the park faded into the background—the faint rustle of leaves and distant footsteps no longer mattered. The only thing you were aware of was him.
Carmy hesitated, his gaze searching yours as if silently asking for permission. There was a vulnerability in his eyes—an openness he rarely let anyone see. His hand twitched slightly at his side, as if he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure he should. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he leaned in.
Time seemed to slow down. His breath mingled with yours, warm against the cool night air. He moved with that same mixture of care and uncertainty that was so distinctly him—measured, cautious, but also raw with emotion.
When his lips finally brushed yours, it was gentle—like he was afraid to break something fragile. Yet there was a quiet intensity beneath it, a weight carried by all the moments you’d both left unspoken. The kiss lingered, neither of you willing to let it end too soon, hands taking a slow path to each other's side, gripping gently on your waist.
When he pulled back, his eyes stayed locked on yours, his breathing slightly uneven. He didn’t move far—just enough to study your face. He was searching for something—for regret, hesitation, or anything that might tell him he’d misread the moment.
But there was nothing like that. Instead, your gaze held his, steady and sure. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips—a silent reassurance that you were exactly where you wanted to be. And slowly, the tension in his shoulders began to ease.
“Was that… okay?” he asked, his nervous smile giving him away.
“It was more than okay.” You reached out, your fingers lightly grazing the back of his hand. “It was… how do you say? Ottimo?”
“Yeah, ottimo.” He chuckled, roaming your face, his eyes resting on your lips.
“Ottimo.” you echoed, trying to suppress a terrible fake italian accent coming through. “Did I do great?”
“Attagirl. Molto bene."
“Yeah… whatever this is.” you laughed, licking your own lips, umid on his taste. For the first time, it felt like all the waiting—all the second-guessing—had finally led you both to the right place.
He took a deep breath, like a weight he’d carried for years—maybe even decades—was finally lifted off his shoulders. He clicked his tongue, glancing around to check for any strangers or suspicious movement nearby. But there was nothing—just the warmth radiating from both your bodies.
“I feel like a hypocrite now,” you teased, his hand resting firmly on your hip, giving a gentle squeeze as you chuckled.
“How come?”
“Intimacy doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” you admitted, letting yourself get carried by the lightness of your laugh.
“Doesn’t seem bad at all.” His smile softened, shy as ever but now intertwined with something deeper. Everything you hadn’t said to each other—but that the whole world seemed to know—hung between you. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer before he finally spoke again. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”
“Okay.”
The way he said it wasn’t just casual. It was a quiet promise—a subtle acknowledgment that something had shifted. And as you both started walking back to the car, it was clear: things wouldn’t be the same after tonight.
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saiintvalentiine · 19 days ago
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manhwa au pew pew pew. divider
word count: 869 
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Wifies has learned to curb his expressions well. He's the perfect image of— honestly he's not sure. It's not maidenhood because that's not a thing in this world outside of religious contexts. He has no fucking clue what, but the maids said he was the perfect image of it before ushering him into the church and down the aisle.
He's wearing what feels like a hundred layers of tulle and lace and silk and satin and it's all white, everything is white, the officiant is in white, the crowd is in white, if he never sees white again in his horrible little life it would be too soon.
Waking up in another world has been the worst thing to ever happen to him and he hopes his husband-to-be kills him. He probably won’t, because if Wifies is anything, it is incredibly unlucky. He’s not sure how else to explain getting transmigrated into some third rate romance novel. This is the worst. He’s pretty sure he’s not the protagonist, or even a meaningful character. He's just some guy being tormented by everything, ever.
The wedding may be getting to his head. The music crests, and Wifies waits for his husband-to-be. Here, it's not about delivering one spouse to the other, but a show of power— his husband is a Duke, Wifies isn't, so Wifies waits for him, not the other way around. Wifies doesn't look over as he arrives. The ceremony is boring, a droning reading of some religious texts he doesn't know, and then he's turning to exchange vows—
His husband-to-be has wings.
Okay. Okay. Fine. Whatever. Wifies puts a ring on him. He allows a ring to be put on his finger. He ignores the wings. They kiss. They leave the cathedral. Wifies isn't thinking about the wings. He isn't. He refuses to think about the wings.
He allows himself to become a machine of rote recitations. There's a dinner, and he says exactly what the nice maids had helped him write down. His husband says his own piece. They sit at a table and eat. Wifies already has a bit of a reputation in this world for not being very bright or sociable, meaning very few people come to talk to him; his husband is an intimidating war-hungry northern Duke, meaning even fewer want to be near him.
Wifies is pretty sure his own parents are hoping that his husband will kill him. He's not sure why the original goods had such a bad relationship with his family, since Wifies is really only borrowing his body with no real understanding, but there was no salvaging what they had.
“Was it so horrible?”
He zones back in and blinks at his husband. They're in a carriage, sitting across from each other at a polite distance. Wifies has no idea what time it is, but he knows he's on his way to his husband's estate. Probably. Maybe.
“What?”
“I said, was it so horrible?”
“I think it was nice.”
“You have the look of a soldier who believes he is being sent to his death,” his husband informs him curtly. “I can only assume it's because of the wedding.”
“I don't know your name,” Wifies leans back, tulle poofed around him like a pool float. “I think that's a bit of an issue with our marriage. You know that people don't say your name in the capital? They think it's bad luck. So forgive me if I look like I'm being sent to my death.”
His husband is, at the very least, handsome. He's got dark hair and watercolor eyes that match the bright green of his feathers. His nose is a little crooked and a choppy scar pokes over the high collar of his white wedding garb. Every other inch of skin is covered, though his many military medals line his chest and cut through the endless white.
“What do they call me in the capital?” he asks, clearly amused.
“The General usually.”
“And unusually?”
Wifies has to think for a moment, combing through his spotty memory.
“Bastard bird,” Wifies makes a noise of understanding. “That's why they call you that.”
He snorts, though something that may be anger floats in his eyes.
“Which part makes sense now.”
“The bird part. The circumstances of your birth are entirely uninteresting to me.”
“You're very strange.”
“I've had a very strange few months.”
His husband pauses then nods.
“Parrot.”
Wifies stares at him.
“My name is Parrot,” he clarifies.
Are you kidding me, Wifies doesn't say. Instead he says, “Wifies.”
“I know.”
“It's reassuring that one of us knows.”
They fall into silence.
“Hey,” Wifies says. Parrot hums. “If you're gonna kill me, make sure to not hesitate.”
Parrot looks at him like he's said something particularly unwell, which Wifies knows is true but doesn't care.
“Seriously, if there's one thing you're going to promise to this ring, it's to make it a sure death, alright? That's all I'll ask for.”
“I'm not going to kill you!”
“Let's not be hasty. I've had a very strange few months.”
“This marriage is going to be a unique one,” Parrot says, but he sounds funny, off kilter.
“Yes, it will be.”
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pinkiemachine · 4 months ago
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can we have some arson/jaytemis headcannons please? 👉👈 (no pressure of course)
Lol, would love to! Okay, so I haven’t had a chance to really thoroughly sit down and dive deep into both their characters, but here’s what I do have so far:
Artemis and Jason are both very troubled individuals. VERY troubled. To the point that neither of them thought they’d ever find someone to love in a million years. When they first meet, they’re both impressed by one another on a technical level. They’re both skilled fighters and they spar well together. Naturally, Artemis is the better fighter overall (being taught ancient fighting styles from birth and having superpowers helps) but Jason held out longer than just about anyone else she’d ever fought.
Here’s a fun little titbit for you! In my version, Artemis has bonus superpowers because of some rewriting I did for the origins of the Amazons. Her blood comes (a few generations back) from Ares and Aphrodite. This results in her having a duel power. The Eyes of Fear and the Eyes of Love. By just looking at someone, she can either make them mortally terrified, or make them fall in love with her. Whichever is more beneficial to her in the moment. She typically never uses the Eyes of Love. But then, early on in their relationship, she’s trying to beat Jason in a fight and uses the Eyes of Fear on him. It doesn’t work. He’s seen true fear before and lived to tell the tale. This is nothing. So, instead, Artemis uses her second power to try and get an edge. This, too, doesn’t work, because, well… he already was kinda in love with her… So that’s cute.
ANYWAY—At first, the two of them are a bit standoffish. Like, “you don’t want to hear about my weepy backstory right?” “Right. And you wouldn’t want to hear mine either?” “Nope.” But naturally, over the course of them adventuring together as The Outlaws, their pasts are kinda pried out of them and they get to know one another better. They have a silent understanding of one another. They respect each other and what they’ve gone through.
Speaking of their adventures, once they learn how to work well together (which took a little while, since they’re both kinda hard-headed) they develop the unspoken promise that they will always have each other’s back when the chips are down, and once they cross that threshold, the 💕 feelings 💕 start rising to the surface.
Sure, both of them are objectively attractive, but what Jason really likes about Artemis is how calm he feels whenever he’s around her. She’s far more mature than the average woman his age, if a bit intense, and she knows how to handle herself in a fight and take care of herself. He doesn’t have to worry about her getting hurt or letting his guard down around her, because he knows she’s got his back. For those little moments when they’re alone, he feels… peace. Like he doesn’t have to have walls up all the time. Like he can breathe. And like he can smile. She doesn’t even need to do anything, him just sitting next to her is enough.
For Artemis, deep relationships are hard. She’s had very few, and lost too many of them. Connecting with people—let alone people her own age—feels impossible anymore. So she puts up walls and gives in to the idea of being a loner all her life, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want deep meaningful relationships. When she meets Jason, she expects him to be just another person who floats in and out of her life, but as she gets to know him, through their adventuring, sparing, and their witty back and forth banter, she begins to feel for the first time in a long time that he just might understand her, in some ways. He doesn’t pity her or weep over her like some do, and he doesn’t get all awkward and nervous like some she’s met before. He just… gets it. That’s rare, in her experience. She doesn’t want to lose him—like, really bad—but she can’t tell him that. He probably doesn’t feel the same, and he’ll probably just wind up going his own way eventually, so there’s no point in getting attached… but she gets attached anyway (and so does Jason).
You know that scene from Avatar the last Airbender where Toph punches Zuko and is like, “that’s how I show affection,” ? That’s their relationship around others/in public. Hitting, shoving, laughing at one another’s stupidity, teasing, etc. They both try to play it off like they’re just good friends. But when they’re alone…
It’s like a feeling neither of them can describe. Something so foreign, and yet so exciting and wonderful… it almost doesn’t seem real. It certainly isn’t something they’d ever share with anyone else; that would spoil the magic of it. It’s like this precious secret, just between them. The way they make each other feel… the peace, the joy, the calm… it’s something they know they’re never gonna find with anyone else.
Now, committing to something like marriage is not exactly the first place their minds go, because they still have lingering ✨ issues ✨ and that nagging fear of losing someone is still hovering at the backs of their minds, so that sort of thing won’t happen for a while…
…but when it does, it happens so fast, you blink and you miss it. Jason just shows up to the Manor one day and is like, “Oh, yeah, by the way, Artemis and I eloped. Bye.” Cue Bruce spit take.
Again, that won’t happen for a long while, but it’s gonna happen. Eventually. Heheheh.
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theseinfernalangels · 9 days ago
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Snake in the Grass - Ridoc Gamlyn 🦊
Synopsis: A semi-criminal decides to run away to the Riders Quadrant with barely an idea of what she could be getting into. What could possibly go wrong?
Includes: The beginning of Ridoc and Faelyn’s story! Suggestive in some parts, Faelyn is a cocky little shit and we love her for it, canon-typical violence, names and personalities for our secondary first years, other OC cameos (try and find them!), I suck at writing sparring matches. Takes place during Iron Flame.
For the first time in your life, you feel like you’re truly light. Not light in the way you feel after one too many sticks of churam in some random prick’s apartment, but light like you’re free. Content. Floating, without the rush of booze and sensations.
Why?
You’re sitting around a table of friends. Well, maybe not friends yet, but they can’t kill you by law, and you don’t think they will. That’s more than you could ask for back in Deaconshire, and you’ll be as greedy as you want with that here.
Names are easy enough to remember. You’ve stuck by Sloane since you hopped off the other side of the parapet, asking for nothing more than a good conversation and acknowledgement. Fortunately, she’s obliged you, too caught up somewhere between her own anxiety and her indignation over being here in the first place to really refuse. If she weren’t forced to be here with the relic on her arm, she’d make a great author. She can gossip like it’s no one’s business.
The rest are so diverse, too. Of course, your little corner of the city was in its own right, but these people come from something better. Avalynn Tate, the Morrainian who swings her long hair over one shoulder, comes from a family business of modest leatherworkers. Baylor Norris, broad and loud and fun, is descended from the very guy who built the fortress you’re eating in. Lynx Felton, from up the Luceran coastline, is on the quieter side, but he joined to be closer to his mother, a commander in the infantry. Visia Hawelynn, with a badass scar, is a repeat who looks determined as hell to bond, and then there’s…Aaric Graycastle. He’s silent, mostly, and looks like he wants to keep to himself like some of the others in the squad. From Calldyr, he says. It’s not the whole truth. You’re a seasoned enough liar that you can tell that he doesn’t want to talk. 
You won’t push him. You owe him that much, for the way he immediately shielded you from the orange dragon’s fire earlier.
And then there are the second-years. You only remember two of their names — Rhiannon, the Squad Leader, and Sawyer, her Executive Officer. They’re intimidating as hell, honestly, both tall and clearly possessing strength that you can only begin to imagine on yourself. The others, with respective purple and silver hair, barely bothered to actually give their names. There’s a blonde girl, quiet and observant, and the other one, with the tattoo on his neck, looks more interested in trailing his gaze over all of you and your squadmates than introducing himself.
The third-years don’t even bother to sit at the table.
They’re kind, though. They don’t judge you for being loud and slightly overconfident. In fact, most of them listen to your story with actual interest.
“So, wait.” Avalynn points the end of her fork at you. “You climbed up the gutter and then roof-hopped?”
“Yep.” You nod. “They would’ve caught me otherwise. I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life.”
“Well,” Lynx speaks through swallowing his chicken. “Law enforcement probably gave you some damn good motivation to run faster.”
“Oh, totally.” You grin. “They fucking hated me. Always tried to bait me into traps to catch me, but they never worked. I think they thought I was an actual fox.”
“So that’s why you’re here?” Baylor scratches his close-cut scalp. “You’re trying to get away from the authorities?”
You blanche for a moment before recovering, forcing out a burst of laughter. “No,” you snort. “I’m here because I got bored. Stealing only makes you half of a living, and a tiny corner of Deaconshire couldn’t hold me forever.”
“Besides,” you add hastily. “I’m over it now. It was just something I did as a kid.”
“Really?” Someone to your right scoffs — the second-year with the bright purple hair and a shitty attitude to match. “I think the last name needs a change, Fox. Only snakes pull that shit and think it’s okay.”
Glances are exchanged across the table. Rhiannon frowns and hisses a disapproving, “Nadine!” Sloane wrinkles her nose at the older girl, but you just laugh — genuinely this time.
“I mean…” You undo the top of your black top — not the standard issue kind, yet — and shrug it over your shoulder to reveal the faded ink that curves over your skin. The full image of a snake — an adder, more specifically — trails from just above the cut of your arm all the way down to your shoulder blade. It’s intricate, purposeful. “I think I already beat you to that, actually.”
The table goes silent for a moment until the air is broken by a sharp laugh. It comes from the boy with the tattoo, his head tilted back like the laugh is dragged from him. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and the look he shoots your way is so fond that you almost curl your fingers into the table.
Mischief dances in his eyes. Free. Daring. Hot. 
You want his lips on yours immediately.
“Damn,” he wheezes. “She’s got you there, Nadine. Lighten up a little, why don’t you? You don’t even know her.”
“And I don’t want to,” Nadine sniffs. “Just keep your paws where they belong, Fox.”
“And you keep your money where your mouth is,” you retort shamelessly. “I’m confident in my character. If you think you can hurt me with words, you should try harder.”
Well, it’s a bit of a stretch, but it does the job. Nadine’s eyes narrow, but Rhiannon’s steel into something akin to…hesitant respect? The former subtly sits back in her seat, sensing her defeat, and the conversation resumes into Baylor goading an irritated Visia into spilling secrets from her first year to help the rest of you out.
Sloane claps you on the back, jolting you in your seat a bit. “We’re not even a full day in, and you’re already pissing people off,” she whispers. “I think I might be in love with you.”
“And you haven’t?” You’d be a fool if you ignored the mini fit she’d thrown earlier at being put in the same squad as General Sorrengail’s daughter. Though, you suppose if you were a separatist’s kid, you’d be pretty pissed off, too.
Her look of humor turns into one of something more lethal. “Don’t push it.”
Your answering smile is more one of bared teeth. “You haven’t even seen me nudge yet.”
Your eyes stay locked before you both dissolve into laughter, any tension wiped away from your antics. Gods, when was the last time you’ve laughed so hard with someone like this? That has to have been…
No. Something inside you wilts. You can’t think about him right now. No more killjoys tonight.
“I’m glad we’re sharing a bunk.” You try to change the subject. “I think I’d die if I had to share with the girls from First Squad.”
Sloane fakes a shudder. “Right? They keep glaring at me like I killed an infant.”
You snort. “Smile and wave, Mairi. If you act like you did, they’ll get so pissed that they’ll do anything to avoid you.”
The blonde laughs faintly. “Don’t I know it. Most people do.”
That’s got to be tough, being a separatist’s kid. It’s probably even worse for Sloane, since you keep hearing whispers about her older brother from people around the wing. He died during War Games, apparently — probably an awful way to go, if he survived the entire year unscathed. 
“They’re all assholes, then,” you declare, maybe a bit too loudly from the way eyes are pulled to you again. “You’ve got a squad now, and it’s us until death, right? You’re not avoiding me.”
“Or me,” Avalynn cuts in, sliding her hand forward. “We’re in this for the long run.”
Baylor slaps his hand on top of hers and jerks his head towards Lynx, who rolls his eyes but joins in anyway. “Ditto. Point out the people who’re being dicks to you, Mairi, and we’ll put ‘em through the ground.”
You all turn to Visia, who just groans dramatically before putting her hand out, too. And that leaves…
Aaric puts his hand firmly on top of hers before anyone can even say anything. When you raise a brow, he just shrugs. “I don’t like bullies.”
You instantly drop your hand on top, and Sloane just watches you all with an unreadable expression before her eyes soften, and her hand makes its way to settle on yours, and the seven of you whoop loudly before sitting back. You sling an arm around Sloane, who jerks at the contact before settling into you, before Baylor nods to you with expectant eyes. “Got any more criminal stories locked up in there, Fox?” he challenges brightly. “Anything juicy?”
Gods, forget Sloane. Baylor is set to be the squad’s resident gossip.
You tilt your head before a sly smirk cuts across your face. “Welllll,” you hum, drawing out the word. “There was this one time I snuck into a brewery and snagged a whole tub of ale.”
Everyone leans in again, intent on listening. You launch into the story, waving your hands wildly and glaring at anyone who dares to cut you off.
The entire time, the boy with the tattoo keeps his eyes glued to you.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚  
After dinner, most of the squad elects to sit in the dormitories playing an icebreaker game to pass the time before you actually need to sleep. You’d join them, totally, but there’s so much of Basgiath you want to see, and the events of Conscription Day haven’t even begun to tamper with your curiosity yet. 
Sure, you’ve given up thievery, but there’s nothing to stop you from wandering.
The halls are quiet with no one else there, dark and absolutely perfect for sneaking around and sticking your nose into others’ business. You inch expertly along the walls, peering around at the cool stone and the pretty blue lights that hover close. It’s a little too perfect for your taste, but this is the military you’re talking about. You’re not supposed to have frayed edges or rough patches — but, for someone like you, they’ll need extra hands in order to scrub you clean.
If they can catch you, that is.
The window at the edge of the hall is bigger than the others — and it’s obvious why. With a view like that, overlooking the valley below with a clear sight of a winding river, you’re surprised they didn’t make it bigger. If you had any say (or a damn big hammer), you’d make it bigger just to see more. 
“Great view, huh?”
You jump a little, your hand flying to the knife in your belt sheath before a laugh rings through the humid air, clear as a bell. You whirl around and pin a glare on the offender. Ah. Tattoo Boy from your squad. Ridoc is his name — you finally overheard it from one of the other second-years. You relax a little and fold your arms over your chest. “Some forewarning would be great next time.”
“Forewarning?” he echoes, making a show of pondering the word. “I’m gonna go with a no on that one. You never get any of that during your first year.”
You turn to fully face him, noting his body language — chilled, completely lax, like he’s at the beach or something nice instead of a fucking war college. “You’re saying that like you weren’t a first-year two weeks ago.”
He raises his pointer finger, winking at you like he’s got some infinite wisdom over your head. “It’s the principle of things, Fox. Someone should at least be warning you.”
You suppress the urge to mock him where he stands. He’s got to be baiting you. “I appreciate the warning,” you drawl, “but I think I’ll be okay.”
He shrugs, but makes no attempt to leave or end the conversation. “If you say so.”
His gaze travels to the window, staring out at the ravine, before he speaks again — quieter this time. “The rest of the first-years are in the dormitories right now,” he comments. “So why aren’t you? Already bored in our dear death college?”
Your eyes follow his, tracing over the river that runs through the middle. If you squint, you could probably see the stars reflecting off the surface and running through the glittering water.
“Bored?” you repeat. “No. They said we should go back to the dorms, not that we have to. I’m using the time to scope the place out.”
“Oh yeah?” He takes a few steps closer, probably under the guise of seeing the night sky better. “I’d be careful. Curiosity like that can get you killed in a place like this.”
“Oh?” You straighten a little, shooting him a look. “Is that a threat?”
He raises his hands placatingly, that stupidly smug grin returning to his face. “Nope,” he says, popping the P sound. “Forewarning.”
You loose a huffy laugh and take a few steps back to lean against the wall casually. “Are you always set on being a smartass?”
“Are you always set on staring at people like you’re trying to read their entire story?” he shoots back, dragging his gaze over you in a way that makes your toes curl a little. “Because you’re staring at me very intently right now.”
Well, to be fair, it’s not like he’s not giving you plenty of material to stare at. Ridoc, for all of his mouthiness, is the textbook definition of gorgeous. His tanned skin practically glows in the light of the window, the skin around his eyes possessing permanent crow’s feet from how often he’s probably smiling. His curls sweep over his forehead invitingly, like they’re daringyou to come and swipe your fingers through it. His eyes glimmer with mischief — like he’s offering and sacrificing something all at once.
Either way, you want to take it.
“So what?” You make a show of being nonchalant, sticking your hands in your pockets. “You don’t like being stared at?”
He hums, slinking a bit closer like he’s trying to see you better. “Oh, trust me,” he smirks, “I do. Especially when it’s by girls like you. You’re just so hard to get a read on, you know? All mysterious.”
“Girls like me?” You tilt your head. “I can’t imagine what you might mean by that.”
“Oh, you know.” He steps closer, caging you into the wall with nothing more than his body and the sheer size of his confidence. “Girls with flames in their eyes and venom in their mouths. The ones who walk around like they own the joint when they’ve barely been here for a day. You think you’ve got it all figured out here, but you barely know what you’re doing. I like that.”
“Yeah?” you challenge, fighting not to give in to his gravity and lean further into him. You manage, but barely. “You think you’ve got me all figured out?”
“I have ways of knowing.” He tilts his head down, barely brushing his nose against yours. “I think you’re more than what you’ve spilled, Fox.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He stares at you. You stare right back. Your breath intermingles as you both stand still — waiting. Seeing who’ll crack first and take what they want, teeth-first.
He’s cold. It’s unusual.
You’re hot, hot, hot. You need him to smoke you out.
So, like a pair of lonely hunters, you grab his jaw while he grabs at your waist, lunging for the kill.
His lips, you find, unlike the rest of him, are hot. 
*ੈ✩‧₊˚  
Assessment Day comes faster than you expect it to. As does the death of Nadine, her neck snapped clean by the boy whose blood has stained the other side of the mats a dark color, almost black.
You didn’t like Nadine. She was rude and stuck up in a way that ground your gears.
But no one should die like that. Not without cause.
The bodies have been cleared out — it’s just you and your squad, a few other squads, and Professor Emetterio left in the gym — but something still feels wrong. Uncomfortable now that you’ve watched two people be killed back to back, like you haven’t seen it happen before.
It shouldn’t irk you, but it does.
Luckily, though, Ridoc takes notice.
“Hey,” he murmurs, sliding closer to you to speak into your ear. “You okay?”
You suck in a breath and count to five. “Yeah. I’m just…caught off-guard, is all. She didn’t deserve a death like that.”
He nods and straightens a little, watching the current pair of cadets wrestling each other into the ground. Neither of them will die, but taking your eyes off of them feels more like damnation than reassurance. 
“I get it,” he says quietly. “She was a good friend. Reliable, despite her attitude.” He glances over at you. “It doesn’t get easier with time, unfortunately. You’ll be fine, though. That was an isolated incident, I think.”
You know a thing or two about isolated incidents. It doesn’t make you feel any better. 
Your nails dig into your sweat-slicked palms before you inhale in an attempt to slow your heart rate. “Yeah. I should get over it now. I haven’t even gone yet and I’m shaking.”
His hand finds yours for a moment, squeezing before letting go. “Hey,” he says gently. “You’ll be fine. A snake, remember? Deadly. Lethal. You bite.”
A smug little smile finds your lips, and you turn your head a little, eyes tracing over his neck before you find the little dark spot tucked under his jaw from the other night. “You’re damned right, I do.”
He chuckles and punches your arm lightly. “That’s the spirit. When they call your name, you show them what it means to be a Fox…and a snake.”
It’s corny. A terrible pun or two. It does its job, though; you feel less nauseous and more like your usual cocky self. Maybe Ridoc is good for more than a (really, really good) fuck.
The match ends when one of the cadets, a smaller girl from First Wing, slams her opponent’s head into the ground with a marked arm, shattering his nose upon impact. Gods, it’s gross — but you can’t deny that her skill is awesome. Maybe you’ll get to try that on someone. You’ve gotten in your own fair share of fights before: Bar wrestles, scraps when someone caught you pickpocketing, that one time a guard body-slammed you into a wall…It’s probably not enough for here, but it’s something, at least. You’ll do better that Sloane, who was put on her ass at least seven times by Aaric.
Emetterio clears his throat. “Alright. Next…” He looks down at his little clipboard. “Kalck and Fox. On the mat, you two.”
Your squadmates murmur encouragement, Sloane nudging you forward a bit with a smile while Ridoc mouths, “Snake.”
You just mouth a curse at him, and he grins.
You meet in the middle of the mat with the other girl, a stocky First Wing cadet with sleek, blue-black hair and eyes that scream of violence. If you weren’t here to fight, you’d make a note to ask her what conditioner she uses. She doesn’t look like she’d answer, though; really, she looks like she wants to kill you.
“I heard a rumor about you, you know,” she starts quietly, looking you up and down in a way that is not the sexy kind you prefer. “That you’re a fucking criminal.”
Undeterred, you just smile sweetly. “Define criminal, and I’ll give you details to work with.”
She scoffs in disgust, so much like Nadine, and takes a few steps back. “I hope you’re not fond of your teeth.”
Emetterio looks unamused, especially when you gesture at the girl as if saying, “Would you get a load of her?” You laugh under your breath and mirror her position, eyes darting for anywhere that looks even the slightest bit weak for you to target.
Unfortunately, you don’t see much. She’s strong, and a hell of a lot more sure of herself. Well, no, actually; she leans slightly on one side, like her ankle on the right is bothering her. It’s not enough, though. She’s solid, and you have no doubt she’ll probably win the match in the long run.
“Right,” the professor says. “Keep it clean. It ends when you tap out or get knocked out. We’ll have no more deaths in this gym today.” He eyes the both of you carefully, making sure you get the idea. “Go.”
The words are barely out of his mouth before the girl lunges, eyes set to kill. You barely have time to drop and roll out of her path, sweeping yourself to your feet when she pivots, a tattooed fist clenched and aimed straight for your eyes. You dip down and grab at her wrist, twisting and ducking down between her legs.
Well. This isn’t so different from outrunning law enforcement, is it?
You weave in and out, dodging around her punches before you turn on your heel and snatch her waist, using your momentum to swing the both of you around and launching her to the mat with a dull thud. Voices around the gym rise, particularly from your squad, which only serves to fire you up even further. You land on top of her and force her to roll, pinning her by the back of the neck to the ground.
For a moment, you feel triumphant. You lean down to urge her to yield, but your efforts are interrupted when she yells, grabs on to your knee and pulls, wrenching you off her back and throwing you to the ground while she pushes herself to her feet. Shit. Your knee throbs at the impact. She must’ve pulled something in it when she grabbed you. Before you can slide away, she’s got you in her hold, straddling you with an arm pressing into your windpipe like a vice.
She’s going to try and choke you out. Maybe even break your neck, like that boy did to Nadine. You can’t let that happen. You can’t — but what can you do when your vision goes spotty? 
“C’mon, Fox,” she sneers, pressing harder into your throat. “Where’s your bravado now? Is it all for show? To take attention from the fact that you’re nothing but a coward? Is that it, huh?”
“Fuck you,” you force out, spitting up in her face defiantly. She snarls and forces your head down, your nails raking into the skin of her neck like it would somehow keep her from killing you. They barely make contact, but it’s all you can do to keep up a fight. 
Your hearing goes wonky from the loss of oxygen, and all you can hear beyond distant yells are the girl’s taunts, low and crude and everything you hate. You can take insults. You can take blows to your ego. But insinuating that you’re weak, and not even trying? That’s crossing a line.
Her face starts to fade, and you start to panic, thrashing wildly to find purchase somewhere to knock her off of you, but she’s just too strong, too much. 
“Just a lousy snake,” she continues, keeping your gazes locked as her knee forces its way between your legs. “Can’t live right, can’t fight right. You should just fuck off and die now if you can’t keep the Codex on your mind.”
It’s disappointing. You must be disappointing your squad. You must be, from how loudly they’re screaming at you to stand up and take her down. Their voices intermingle: Sloane, Aaric, Visia, Baylor, Lynx, Ridoc…
Ridoc. His voice cuts through the gray, loud and insistent and damn annoying.
“Fucking bite, Fox!”
Bite.
You can do that. 
Tilting your head up as far as it can go, you bare your teeth and bury them in her forearm, blood and skin bursting around your mouth as the bigger girl screams in alarm and recoils. It’s dirty, and it’s disgusting, but it’ll do. Instinctively, you kick at one of her ankles — the badone —  throwing her off balance and sending her tumbling to the ground. You gasp, air returning to your lungs in furious streams, and throw yourself at the bleeding girl, winding your arms around her again to slam her face down into the mat, just like the girl from before did. It works, too, judging by the way you hear a snap and a gurgle from below as the girl is forced into a puddle of her own blood.
You hook your knee over her back and press down, leaning in close to speak into her ear. “Yield,” you demand, your voice scratchy from the lack of air. “Fucking yield.”
The girl makes a choked noise, and for a moment, you’re convinced she’s just pretending like you would — feigning an injury to get you to loosen your grip — but then you catch sight of the spreading slick of blood on the mat, and you jerk away in alarm. She’s not pretending; you’re close to drowning her in the blood that pours from her noise.
“No!” she shrieks, thrashing in your hold. “I won’t lose to a fucking—“
You cut her off, forcing her head to the side and caking her cheek in blood. “I don’t want to do this,” you mutter, “but I will if I have to. Yield, so they can heal you, before I make you lick it up.”
She glares up at you hatefully, but you hold fast, your other arm pinning hers with a hold you can only describe as sad. Fortunately, though, she seems to get the idea as she goes completely limp.
“I yield,” she whispers, red staining across almost every part of her face. “I yield.”
As delicately as you can, you lower her head and step off of her shaking form, pulling away as Emetterio nods, acknowledging you as the victor. Your squad yells in triumph, and you just proved you can hold your own — so why don’t you feel happy?
Ridoc pulls you into him, followed by your year-mates, and for a second, a smile makes your way on to your lips before they pull back, and the girl comes into view again. Her nose is crooked and oozing blood, caking her face with red, and she limps awkwardly on one foot. The worst part, though, is her arm — blood streaming out of a wound that looks torn open and…almost symmetrical?
Oh, shit. That’s from your teeth.
You grimace and spit down at your feet. Sure enough, blood falls from your mouth with a quiet splat. You don’t know if you should gag or not. The iron taste coats your mouth, and it’s all you can do not to keep spitting.
She glares at you, baring her teeth like it doesn’t pain her to draw her lips back. “You fucking cheated.”
Any ounce of self-preservation in you dies the moment your eyes lock, and you snarl right back, her blood dripping from her mouth menacingly. “You almost crushed my windpipe andmy skull. I’d hardly argue I crossed any line.”
She pivots and makes to charge at you, but a squadmate catches her by the waist and draws her back. “Not now, Mollie,” you hear her whisper. “It’s not worth it. Let’s get you to the infirmary for that nose break.”
Likewise, a familiar tug has you turning back into your squad, who shoot you varying degrees of smiles and nods. One of the second-year girls, the quiet blonde, gestures at you to come over, and you obey with Ridoc guiding you over gently.
She smiles kindly at you. “You did great out there. Not everyone has the guts to fight dirty when it matters.”
You nod gratefully at the praise. “Well, it was either that or death. I don’t want to die before I can at least see a dragon.”
That drags a laugh from her. It’s a nice surprise. Like the other second-years, she looks pretty jaded, keeping her scarred face turned away and her eyes averted at any given point, unless she’s with Sawyer. They’re probably an item, as far as you can tell.
“Here.” Before you can protest, she places two fingers on your collarbone, and a rush of warmth floods your body before the ache fades to a dull sting. “Those bruises looked nasty. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
You glance down at yourself for any blood that isn’t Mollie’s, but you find none. You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”
Ridoc points at the older girl. “Kora here is a mender. One touch, and boom. You��re all better.”
She shoots him a dry look. “Not quite.”
He shrugs. “Whatever you say, Callahan.” He glances over at you as if assessing you for injuries himself before he steps back. “I think your mouth keeps making you new enemies, Fox. She looks pissed.”
For a reason you can’t place, you can’t make yourself look back over at the gathered squad on the opposite side of the mat. Maybe it’s because the blood is making you queasy, or just the fact that you did so much damage to a person without really even thinking about it. It feels odd, but not wrong. Not right, but certainly not wrong if it kept you alive…right?
“Oh, well.” You look Ridoc dead in the eye, and he just grins. “I think my mouth is pretty useful. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He leans in a bit into your personal space, and you can’t help but welcome it. “For what? Telling stories? Making out? Biting girls? Yeah, Fox. I think I have to agree.”
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monstersandgenderqueers · 4 months ago
Text
Amaranth (Prologue)
You never thought that the criminal who crash-landed in your garden would become your everything.
Chapter 0 of ?
Chapter summary: After Ragnarok, Loki is saved.
Word count: 1323
Pairing: Loki x gn!reader (he/him pronouns for Loki in this chapter)
Chapter warnings: Themes of death, light gore
Next: Ch. 1 | Ch. 2
A/N: This is my first fanfic in... 8 or 9 years. I thought I should probably share my wonderful mind movies with the rest of you Loki lovers.
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It was cold. So damned cold. And that was coming from a frost giant, and one who couldn't even feel the cold.
"Your fingers are frozen, Loki!" Though said in jest, this phrase and others similar managed to worm their way into Loki's heart. To have people shy away from his touch for a thousand years only ensured he was never affectionate. It made sense why, after he found out his heritage. He wasn't drastically colder than other Asgardians, but the difference was enough to cause them to gasp or yelp in surprise if he dared touch their bare skin. Only his mother could stand holding his hands for very long, but even she would let go.
What a waste. A life without warmth… by the Norns, have I always been so pitiful?
He couldn't help it. The negative thoughts whirling in his mind, that is. He had nothing else to do after all, floating in space for what felt like an eternity. Again.
After yet another heroic sacrifice, he found himself dead and yet not. His corpse — if he was indeed dead — drifted within the debris and shattered remains of what once was an interstellar ship and its passengers. His people. The Asgardians. At least some of them. He had no idea how many had survived, or how many clawed their way into escape pods, or had small vessels of their own. Not many. Not enough.
Loki cursed in his mind. Over and over and over. What sort of sick joke was this? How many deaths would it take for his life to end? Surely, it would have only taken one. When he let go at the Rainbow Bridge… yes, that should have been the end. But he fell for what felt like forever. 
It didn't take long for the sick feeling of falling to fade, since there was no air in the void of space. No gravity to pull or yank him any which way. He cursed then, too. Cursed his heritage, his magic, anything he could think of that kept him alive in a place where things should not live. It had kept him alive until Thanos had scooped him up, and…
No. No. Loki couldn't think about it for a moment longer.
This felt terrifyingly similar, though he was certain he was 'dead' for much longer this time. Weeks, maybe months. He wouldn't know. Last time, he stared at the stars. The galaxy was bare before him, nothing impeded the view of its majesty. They blinked and danced, swirled and burst in a glorious death. He had kept his eyes open, watched as they moved… he kept track of time that way. But now, he couldn't see from his own eyes. Couldn't move, or breathe…
Well, something was keeping him 'alive.' Something, or someone, had made sure his consciousness remained in his abandoned corpse. He gave up trying to figure out why long ago. Loki had nothing to do but think, and ruminating only served to cause phantom aches in his still heart.
A glorious purpose… Ha. I have no purpose. I am nothing but a glorious fraud. Glorious traitor, monster, hor-
His self-loathing was interrupted by an odd sensation. Loki's body was being moved. But who—
why? He tried desperately to feel something, but the only thing he could register was the slight disarray of his innards as gravity took hold. Voices drifted around him, but they were so faint, he could have mistaken them for air currents.
Air?
Bright light. Scorching heat. Pain, pain in every nerve and it was cold and hot. So intense was the pain that he might've pissed his pants if his bladder was functioning. Small victories, he supposed.
It took many more bursts of pure, raw sensation for his vision to come back. His eyes slowly focused on oddly shaped figures. They looked like fat, gray worms with an unnerving amount of pupils and arms. Perhaps some of those arms were legs, but Loki did not want to look. They held tools in their hand-like appendages, pressing them against his skin.
The sound came back. It must've been language, but it was closer to a chittering sound than anything Loki had ever encountered before in space-faring species. He figured they somehow reanimated him, and for a moment he was grateful, but then he very quickly became annoyed. He would rather have been left drifting in space. It was what he deserved.
It only took a few more hours for his nerves to work as they should. He sat up, slowly, with the help of one of the worm people. He knew he should've attempted to speak to them, to thank them and whatnot, but he had no idea what their intentions could have been. Sure, he's alive, but that last entity to bring him out of the void tortu-
Not going there. Stop thinking about it.
After another few hours, and a very gray and gloopy bowl of 'food' that he hoped with all his existence was not actually a part of the gray worm people, he was able to move around the sterile medical bay. One of them led him down an equally bright and sterile hall, chittering as it went. As wet as its skin looked, it did not leave behind a trail of slime as Loki would have assumed. So, calling them slugs or worms or anything of the like was probably not the most appropriate thing to do. He wondered what he should call them, then, if not giant bugs, but then the doors whooshed open and he saw true horror.
Asgardians. Pieces of them. Pieces of their ship. He didn't want to count, or even estimate how many bodies lie in the cargo hold. But based on the size of the mound, and that the cargo hold was hundreds of meters across… it might've been the entire debris field. They must have taken it all in, and found Loki whole among the many scattered parts of people he knew.
He didn't remember how, but the creatures had walked him back to the medical bay. It was a different one, unlike the surgical bay he was in. This one was bare of instruments or monitors, only rows and rows of benches. A morgue? Dozens of bodies. Some seemed whole, some mostly whole. All Asgardian. The aliens had tried to reanimate all of them, and had not succeeded. This only furthered Loki's suspicions that someone kept him from death, but he found it hard to follow that thought all the way through to any logical conclusion. He felt more numb, standing there in the morgue, than he had when his nerves were dead and his brain stem severed by Thanos.
He stood there for a long time.
Three days passed. Yes, Loki was able to keep track of time once more. In that time, he ate gray sludge, listened to the chitter and chatter of his saviors, and managed to fix one of the broken escape pods that sat with the rest of the cargo. Mostly with magic, of course. 
He then oversaw the cremation of his people, and decided that should he ever wish to discard memories, the smell and the feeling of the smoke in his lungs would be the first to go. Loki briefly wondered if he should have given them a more honorable funeral, but the bitterness from being banished from Frigga's funeral was still strong.
Loki thanked the aliens by demonstrating some of his magic. Casting projections was easy, and they seemed excited to see the images dancing on the blank walls, if their "tktktk" sound was anything to go by.
He decided to call them Weavers, for reasons unknown to him. It had simply felt right.
Without even a final glance backwards, Loki slapped the controls in the pod until the lights came back on, and then he set a course for Midgard.
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Text
Scent
@hinnymicrofic
“When did you finally figure it out?” Ginny asks. Her hair is fanned out around her, the red a shocking contrast to the green of the Quidditch pitch. 
They’d been mucking about - flying, tossing a Quaffle, racing, perhaps brushing up against each other in the sky more than was strictly necessary for a casual scrimmage. They had finally headed for the ground as the sun made its lazy descent below the line of trees. Ginny had flopped down on the grass to watch it and Harry had joined her, the thrill of flying still singing in his chest. Or maybe that was just Ginny. 
“Hmm?” Harry hums contentedly, watching the sky transition to a brilliant orange. 
“When did you finally figure out that you fancied me?” Ginny asks, trailing her fingers through the grass. 
The question startles him, because it seems to him now that he must’ve always fancied her, at least a bit, even if he was too thick to realize or too wrapped up in other things to notice. He’s still thinking when he answers, “When I wanted to throttle Dean.” 
She laughs, which was what he’d intended. “Jealous, were you?”
“Mm,” he agrees, still mulling the question over. 
Looking back on it, there are a great many glaring signals that Harry hadn’t recognized for what they were at the time. The way he’d longed for his summer with her to stretch on, the twinge of regret as she walked away on the train…
“That first Potions lesson, you were what I smelled in the Amortentia,” he muses. “That probably should’ve been a clue…”
He’d been thinking out loud, and only after he’s said it does he realize that was perhaps a more vulnerable confession than he’d intended to make. That’s a bit much, probably, when they’ve only been together a week. 
“What?” Ginny says, and Harry wishes he could snatch the words back, wishes he could chew them up and swallow them to be buried somewhere deep in his gut where they belong. 
“Yeah,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. 
Ginny rolls over and props herself up on her elbows, her expression a mixture of incredulity and mischievousness. “Did you really? What did it smell like?”
“A few things,” he says, unable to look at her and instead pretending to be utterly entranced with the sunset. “Treacle tart. Something that smelled like my Firebolt. And…”
He finally looks at her, and finds that her eyes are glowing brighter than the sun ever could. “You.”
She seems to be struck uncharacteristically speechless, and the moment hangs for several panicked heartbeats. Then, she shuffles closer and presses her sweet lips down to his urgently, and Harry reckons he can’t have mucked it up too badly, as she runs her fingers through his hair and presses herself against him. 
She pulls away suddenly and stares down at him, her eyes pressing him down into the earth, and then she lets out a bark of laughter.
“What?” he asks, smiling. 
“You–” she cuts herself off, rolling back over and letting out a loud breath that floats up into the darkening sky. “You can’t say shite like that to me.”
He has no idea what to say to that, but luckily she spares him by continuing. “You can’t, it isn’t fair. I already like you too much.”
Harry wonders whether the sun has set directly into his chest. “Well, me too. Clearly.”
Ginny snorts, and Harry reaches for her hand. He breathes in deeply, wanting to drink in the moment, and he thinks he catches the faint flowery scent of her lingering traitorously in the air.
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riggedbones · 8 months ago
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ok now that chapter 2 of my fic is out I can finally share nearly everything consequence related I've been drawing over the last two months. so let's start with my design process!
it's probably pretty obvious, but I wanted consequence's design to pretty closely mirror loop's. I don't want to go into all of the reasoning behind what I decided to keep similar and what I decided should be distinct (some of it is spoilers for my fic), but generally I kept a lot of the more general design elements that seem to be a result of whatever the fuck wish craft did to make loop Like That. loop is naked? consequence is naked. loop has an objecthead? consequence has an objecthead. loop has a shape on their chest? consequence has a shape on its chest.
this all being said, I did also want to make sure that consequence was distinct. of course. my initial focus was pretty resolutely on the objecthead, as you can see in my first page of concept sketches, but I did explore some other elements early on as well!
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you can also see my first concept sketch for odile's death screen, and just a smidge for the looping animation that is something i might also animate for a chapter, who knows.
more drawings and discussion under the cut, i'm realizing this is getting a bit long.
i had the node object head concept on that first page, but it was definitely something that needed iteration. which is where this page came in. i settled on the diamond shaped geode at around this point too, but was still struggling a tad on what to do with the general body texture. this was also, clearly, WAY too many squares. my beta kris told me as much.
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i may be an animator but by god i love making my designs as animation unfriendly as possible sometimes. still wouldn't call consequence animation friendly at all, but i've done a lot since to cut back on the sheer volume of squares.
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this was my second pass in an attempt to cut down on the complexity, still way too many squares, but this is when i started drawing the head as a foreground later of nodes with a more abstract cloud of squares behind. for the most part, just shading behind the foreground layer is still how i draw the head traditionally.
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aaand then i started playing around digitally and i realized i did not like how that looked digitally. these are both doodles i did via mouse (for the second one i traced an odile sprite to help with proportions), so they're a bit looser in general, but this exercise generally let me know that i needed to slightly rethink how i was going to express the idea digitally.
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because this, the final talksprite design i landed on, looks more complicated, but between the smaller amount of foreground squares and the fact that the ones in the background were just made with the rectangle tool, it's honestly not that bad. a pain to replicate? sure! but id5 reused loop's head shape for all of their art in the game, so i can do that too.
i think i solidified the idea of its body having strata before the talksprite (not sure which doodles that would be), but doing the talksprite really helped solidify the idea of a gradient in my mind, and also is where i decided on the textural element. i also decided to look at a reference image for the geode. that helped a Lot.
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...i still do like drawing a more simplified consequence though. the key in my eyes is to just get the general shape of the head down, make sure you get a few of the squares floating in the air, and emphasize the nodes around its eyes. also make sure the eyes are offset vertically, it REALLY helps with the character of the design, sometimes i'll doodle a connie quence and think it looks a bit mid, move the eye on its left up, and then boom it's fine.
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or you can just not do that because you drew it 2 crumbs big lol
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captain-joongz · 10 months ago
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I hope you are feeling well and eating well. I wish you to always be healthy. I am writing this with great shame right now. This may be perversion, but it is funny and that's how it is. I think you are the best person to handle this issue on this platform. 🫠
To be honest, my bias is Soobin and I had thoughts floating around in my mind for the past few days. You can apply it to the other members too<3. Soobin and I have been together for a long time and have been together many times, but we promised each other 1 month before the wedding not to even masturbate. We had difficult requests etc. The wedding day was pretty normal, but our honeymoon bag was changed by our close friends and it contains all kinds of garters....
hello baby, thank you for trusting me with this request! i hope that i was able to deliver what you wanted <3 i am so sorry for the delay with the answer, though, i promise to do better next time!
i'm having fun with these, and wedding seems to be a recurring theme of Soobin's stans 👀
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warnings: unprotected sex, making out, mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, lingerie
the idea came to the two you quite easily, it was even super easy to agree to it - a month, that's nothing right? it's not like you can't handle having no orgasms or having sex with the love of your life, right?
right...
it started off okay. giddy and full of anticipation and excitement, you both giggled at each other like two high-schoolers, giving each other eyes and pursing lips, the understanding that nothing was to happen running between you. and it was fine
it was fine
you didn't talk about it with Soobin in depth, but honestly, you started breaking after the first week. the month before was the most stressful part and you found yourself begging for some easy fun in the sheets with your fiance, your body heating up and thrumming anytime you two were close. but Soobin looked completely unaffected, so you didn't want to be the one to bring it up. yes, if given the chance you'd probably be fucking him or yourself like three times a day just to fucking cope with the wedding stress, but you could do it
until like the middle of week two, then you realised that you really couldn't. but both you and Soobin were so damn competitive and you wouldn't be the first to buckle - and you saw the cracks in Soobin's unbothered persona. you saw his hands clenching when you walked around in shorts, the way his eyes would catch on your nipples anytime you walked by in only your tank top
he would suddenly turn more serious, speak less and focus solely on you in that way that you knew he'd be balls deep already if it wasn't for the promise. the stupid annoying no good promise that was starting to drive you up the wall
week three and you'd start to slip - hands would start to linger, eyes would wander more. both of you had a hard time focusing and you were so fucking tense you felt like dying. the need to just jump onto a cock and make yourself cum over and over again was making you insane and you were barely holding on anymore
and the only thing that kept you in lane was seeing Soobin struggle just as much. you swore the man had to wait out more awkward uncomfortable boners in these past three weeks than he had to through his whole puberty, and it was funny at the beginning before you became too desperate and even the faint outline of his hard cock was enough to make you wetter than a fucking bathroom sink
you were ready to throw in the towels, but that would be giving up and you two didn't do that
not even when you lost control and your innocent little kiss quickly spiralled into a heated make-out that ended with you humping your fiance like a fucking dog before he pushed you off with a pained whine. you both were fine
thank god the last few days before the wedding were so crazy and packed with activities you barely had the time to think about the sorry state of your love life, but your body didn't forget - the buzz was there, under your skin, making you feel like you were losing your mind. and combined with the anxiety from the planning it was turning you into a jumpy nervous wreck. you needed it, you needed it bad
the rest came in a blur, the wedding was beautiful and you spend the whole day happy crying, drinking with your friends and family, and dancing with your now husband. the hungry looks you two were sending each other were not lost on everyone, but of course you'd be excited for tonight, so they only shrugged it off with smiles and laughs. they had no idea...
at least you thought they didn't, until that night you finally turned in and after much screaming, laughing and wolf whistling made your way back to your wedding night suite. and now, you were looking at what you thought was your bag with your usual toiletries and a tasteful pretty sheer white night gown. what wasn't in your bag was the deep red lacy lingerie, garters and black pumps that you were currently looking at
what in the fresh hell??
after checking through the bag a couple times, trying to make sure it was really meant for your and it wasn't by accident dropped off here by some confused guest (if so, they were planning to have a hell of a night, god damn), but it was your bag, only different contents
the mystery got solved when a text came to your phone. did you find the bag? it was from your best friend and you started to realise what had happened. have fun tonight after your little ban ;)
embarrassed, you didn't even want to answer. your bff was the only person you shared this little secret with, but she probably roped in your other friends so they would help her switch your bag. in your mind you were cursing her, but your hands were already going through the contents again with barely contained interest. well, it was already here... and it would look extremely good... why not?
dragging the bag into your bathroom to change quickly before Soobin came in from the outside where he was still talking with his family, you carefully tore yourself out of your wedding dress (not easy, turns out) and started untangling the delicate lacy undergarments
when Soobin entered the room, it was still empty. his mind was racing with the possibilities, and he knew that after a month of complete abstinence with the occasional excitement when you two lost control, he probably wouldn't last longer than a few minutes with the accumulated lust that was already making him hard. but he had a whole night, didn't he?
hearing the bathroom door open, the excitement surged in him and he braced himself to turn. he knew you'd get something pretty to wear, but upon turning seeing you in a deep red lacy set complete with garters and black tights and heels, it was like his whole world spun and he was suddenly dizzy with desire
you barely had two seconds to take in the absolutely ravenous look in his eyes before he was on you - he moved so fast you didn't even catch it with your eyes. one moment he was standing by the bed and the next he was grabbing you and prying your mouth open with his tongue
the kiss was filthy and fast, overwhelming you in mere moments before you were thrown back onto the bed, back hitting the soft bedding and bouncing lightly, and Soobin quickly climbing on over you to kiss you more until your lips were wet and sticky with drool
"are you actually trying to kill me, baby? already want to collect my life insurance?"
he'd throw out little remarks between your moans, nipping your lips, biting your neck, hands running over your whole body and catching onto the lingerie, pulling strings to snap them back onto your skin, to feel you tense and clench under him as you cried for him
"fuck, i need to fuck you right now, i promise i'll be slow and loving later, baby"
and that's how you found yourself falling apart on his cock seconds later, Soobin barely undressed with his shirt open and tie hanging between you, pants and underwear pushed just under his ass, your legs forced apart as far as they could go with your panties only pushed to the side so he could easily slide into your pink wet cunt and fuck it with reckles abandon
both of you were so turned on you couldn't even speak anymore, Soobin grunted above you as his hips rolled smoothly into you and hit your sweet spot effortlessly, and you lied under him completely boneless, just hungrily taking the pleasure his cock was providing for you, high-pitched whimpers and moans falling out freely. you heard the quiet rapid squeaks of the bed as your bodies bounced on with the motions, you heard the rush of your blood as your climax ruthlessly approached until you were screaming, the bliss taking over and cunt clenching
you both came at the same time, the orgasm that barrelled through you forcing you to tense up as your back arched, and Soobin's cock got mercilessly squeezed until he was spurting his cum deep into you, groans being punched out of him with the force of it
"don't worry baby, i didn't take anything off, so i can still take a nice look at you with my cum trickling down your thighs"
you had a long night ahead of you, and you were going to enjoy every damn second of it
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divider by @cafekitsune
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m0e-ru · 9 months ago
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p4 pokemon au where all problems are because of some stupid zoroark cracked with action replay
maul me over as much as you want over poke partner choices because idgaf im going to start yapping under the cut (2.5k words are yuo joking ?)
um where can i start
i wanna make it clear im sure these characters would all have different pokemon teams if they were playing pokemon on the nintendo ds, like, souji could be a rest staller if he wanted to. but anyway, heres my idea of who these guys would partner up with because i think it’s fun. and none of this is final i could give namatame a goomy too AHAHA
oh another disclaimer while i proclaim ive played all the mainline games, is i havent actually played a pokemon game past XY also im a unova babygirl est 2014 . yippie
Souji feels like such a normal-type guy to me. Cheren black and white. Well, the gray did influence it, but also he’s a very flexible guy.
He caught a Lillipup as a kid, and it’s been with him through multiple moves. His parents didn’t care about a pokemon in the house as long as it didn’t make a fuss, and was kind of Souji’s only friend at the time. It evolved into a Herdier at some point before he gets to Inaba, and probably gets to be a Stoutland for the whole Izanagi-no-Okami equivalent.
Not that I think he’d cheese his way through battles with Work Up -> Return shtick, but I think it’s a funny thought lol
Yosuke got a Tadbulb following him around, which he found in the moving van when his family was unpacking. And the next few weeks, he almost ran over a Froakie going 60kph on his bike. Yosuke appreciates having the Tadbulb around when working around Junes, and the Froakie guides him through Inaba as a local I guess lol. It evolves into the Frogadier when they go investigate the serial murders with Souji. It probably knows Aerial Ace for all I know LMAO
Chie’s Glaceon’s actually Muku, the Eevee Yukiko tried to take care of, until it was put in Chie’s care when she wasn’t allowed to keep it. When they were middle school, after one vacation at Mt. Yasogami, the Eevee ended up evolving next to an Ice Rock of all things. The two wondered why it didn’t evolve from friendship, like an Espeon or an Umbreon, and they joke around that the Eevee loved neither of them and bonded with a chunk of ice instead. Chie makes it wear a muffler because she misses Eevee's fluffy coat, in a way.
Around the same time, Chie found a Mienfoo training with her at the flood plains, and it decided to stay with her. Sometimes, she’d offer Yukiko to have it help out at the inn.
Kanji’s mom actually kept a Cottonee around to gather the stray cotton it leaves around to spin into thread sometimes. She wondered where it went, until Kanji admitted it evolved into a Whimsicott after it touched a rock he found lying around on the way home, which was a Sun Stone. It still stays around to help, and even floats all the way to Yasogami just to deliver Kanji’s lunch he forgot at home.
Kanji caught a Blitzle himself, and it was also there when he was beating up all the bikers making a ruckus by the highway, which made him easy to profile during that one TV segment about him. It goes with Kanji while he’s biking, and he’d refuse its help even when he gets tired.
Nobody really knows how Teddie became a boy, nor where he got his Cubchoo. All he’s mentioned is that they “saw one another in each other’s eyes” and it starts sneezing into Yosuke’s face. Well, it’s not too bad because they’re both Junes’ new mascots, in a way. Maybe he IS the Cubchoo 🤔🤔🤔
Rise had the Ralts since middle school. Having it perform with her during her audition to be an idol almost basically made her in the cut. It evolved into a Kirlia which made her more popular as Risette. Although, fans and haters started throwing Dawn Stones at it after a statement where Rise didn’t want to reveal its gender even with so many people asking. Most of them were fake, just to give Rise a scare, and it was only super fans or super haters that would throw in the real deal at shows or even just handshake sessions.
Naoto’s grandfather helped him catch a Surskit before he left the estate and became the Detective Prince. He once accused a Sneasel to be a culprit of one case, but it ended up proving itself innocent, nagging Naoto to certain evidence when he just thought it was annoying him. Impressed by each other’s wit, they’ve become partners in solving crime. Naoto would pacify it with his Surskit’s sweet syrup. And when the Surskit evolved into a Masquerain, Naoto would have two partners by his side. Although, this lead to trusting his own instincts and pokemon more than other people.
Chisato owned a Rockruff, which even adored Dojima before they were even married. It evolved into a midday Lycanroc, which started to help Dojima with his own investigations. When Chisato passed, it was less bitter than Dojima, and would be sent home to stay with Nanako if he ever had to work overnight. When Nanako was comfortable enough with Souji and his Herdier, the Lycanroc would stay with Dojima, and Adachi would help prop him on its back when he gets himself drunk.
A bit after Chisato’s funeral in the middle of the mourning period, her mother came to her granddaughter, Nanako, and gave her a Cleffa, in which they would both learn to take care of each other. It would have fun being tossed around in the air by the Lycanroc and Herdier at home, while Souji would tell Nanako to make a wish on the star everytime it was in the air. Because it’s the Star Shape pokemon lol i think it’s cute
While Adachi was still in the big city, he’d see the skinniest Purrloin in an alley on the way home. He fed it once, and it wouldn’t stop pestering him since. He thought it was over when his apartment complex neighbors started feeding it, but it found delight in annoying Adachi specifically, taking his keys from his pockets, or nabbing a bit of his takeout when he was distracted.
It jumped into the boot of his car, genuinely curious of what was going on, until it found itself in an hours long trip which ended with it in Inaba. Dojima mentioned his Lycanroc smelled a feline scent on him, while Adachi just denies he owns a pokemon, much less that Purrloin that isn’t even native to the area. It’s caught the attention of the locals for a while, and it took it to its advantage to get more people to feed it, but still hangs around Adachi to go nick his new, rusty apartment keys.
There’s also like, this Shuppet that shows up at some point, and his landlady and neighbors keep telling him about it and giving him weird looks. But he doesnt believe in superstitions and doesnt have a pokedex to look at so who cares
Namatame's family has a Bunnelby helping around the business with little chores and such. His parents send it off to Namatame to work with him and keep him company while he tries to recover. Somewhere along the way, he finds an Absol following him on a rainy day, which he takes care of alongside the Bunnelby entrusted to him, or maybe it’s taking care of him? While Namatame becomes more manic each passing day as his messiah complex gets to him, he starts distancing himself from Bunnelby and spends more time with Absol. 
The MOEL gas station has a shiny Heliolisk, but a lot of people don't really know the concept of shiny pokemon, and they haven't seen Heliolisks or Helioptiles in the urban area, so they don't really think it's so special besides it being a different color. It's nothing more than a mascot of sorts, and does silly things with the attendant; like startling Adachi and that Purrloin that follows him around. It can sense when it's going to rain by feeling the static electricity around it. And what's rather peculiar is that it doesn't seem too averse to rain or cloudy skies. It does enjoy basking in the sun, and people would look up to see it hanging around on the station canopy with a spread out frill those days.
okay, so this is the part where I'm supposed to talk about plot. um. anyway
Way back when, there was a Zoroark that would walk among people, disguised as a human. People started rumors and suspected this woman really is a pokemon, but nobody seemed to shun her or really care, she was just a nice lady and took care of the people around her. People would say she came to them from a greater power to be a guardian to the land, similar to the legends in different regions, like Sinnoh and their Arceus.
However, the way she protects her people would be through illusions. She would keep external and malicious forces at bay by severely frightening them at the mountaintops, or the forests, if they ever got through, be it human or pokemon. If anyone were hurt or were about to die, unable to be treated to health, she would comfort them in a grand dream as they would fall asleep for the very last time. 
As time went on and technology developed, people were so entranced with the television broadcasts, wanting to know who was behind the screen, even if they were covered up in makeup and filters. 
The greater power sought to sate the people's desires, and saw the Zoroark it left in their care wasn't enough. So it split the pokemon into two, with one half so weak it was just a Zorua. The newly born Zoroark went off to accomplish its appointed duty, no matter the means. To better determine what the people wanted, however, it created a scheme which would involve stimulating the masses to come to an answer.
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The Zoroark played a simple gas station attendant, which would stay close and observe the people. It would choose three pawns to watch over, manipulating the situation in tandem to their reactions. 
well so um basically there's still an isekai with TV portals. the iznmi Zoroark has enough power this time to create pocket dimensions straight from its illusion power. Every victim that ends up inside still gets haunted by their “truth” iznmi determines after scrutinizing them. The Midnight Channel broadcasts are also their illustrations. so basically, instead of things going on by itself from the collective unconscious reacting, it's a Zoroark piecing things together. it's kinda like pokepark 2. HAHAHA
Namatame's still kidnapping people he sees on the Midnight Channel. And when he gets Nanako, the Bunnelby stays behind and begs the IT to help. It helps them find Namatame, where they confront him and his Absol. Through illusions and legitimate power channeling, the Absol mega evolves. The IT defeat it and it returns to a normal Absol. They take both Nanako and Namatame to the hospital, the Bunnelby by Namatame's side the whole time.
When Adachi's suspected to be the killer, he escapes into the world inside the TV and makes a deal with the Zoroark. The Purrloin follows Adachi's scent and ends up in the TV, terrified of its unknown surroundings and hiding from the rest of the monstrous illusions that popped up. It got used to the world, however, and when the IT arrived, it helped them with Adachi's silly puzzles, to which he groans through a PA about how that pokemon’s still annoying him in another world. 
The IT confront Adachi, until a Mismagius appears to stop them. It sings Perish Song (because Magatsu-Izanagi is a Ghastly Wail kind of thing lmfao) but everyone stood their ground, blocking the song from their ears. Even under Adachi's (albeit in pain) command, the Mismagius falters, and the Zoroark takes things into its own hands, creating a bigger illusion to finally deal with these meddling kids for itself. 
But they defeat Ame-no-Sagiri, and its grand voice agrees to stop the grand illusions plaguing Inaba. The IT still have no idea who this conductor of schemes is, and Adachi can't give a clear answer either 
Marie's a Zorua with amnesia so bad she forgot she's a Zorua at all. She started her illusion as a human girl just to aimlessly wander around Inaba more easily and has been stuck in that form since. She was taken into the Velvet Room where they can clearly see that she isn't a human, but a pokemon. What's impressive is that she doesn't have a tail sticking out, which would mean her powers of illusion are rather potent. 
Souji’s made to chaperone her around Inaba to get her memories back, the whole shtick. While everyone stops prying into her nonexistent life, they're impressed with her ability to understand pokemon, as if she can actually understand them. Marie comes to the conclusion that she must have grown up around pokemon to be able to understand them that well. 
In the end, she finds out she is a pokemon, and iznmi Zoroark sends her to a grave that is physically in Inaba, instead of a pocket dimension. 
Margaret creates a conduit from that shed TV to that tomb somewhere in Inaba. Marie runs around as a Zorua and makes illusions to stop the IT from getting to her. But they manage to get to the heart of the tomb and get Zorua Marie from burying herself. 
They defeat another one of iznmi Zoroark’s avatars dwelling in Marie which was controlling her, then Marie comes back to the IT, accepting her identities as a pokemon and a human girl.
The IT thought that the illusions have stopped, and people are free to see what's really in front of their eyes. But Souji confronts the gas station at MOEL, where he reveals he's really a Zoroark with a duty, even startling the Heliolisk by its side. 
The IT enter the final world of illusions and desperately try to find the Zoroark to convince it to stop and let people truly live, that no one should hold their hands all the time, and quit living in a painless and meaningless utopia.
With everyone and their pokemon exhausted, Marie finds the strength to convince her other self. To let it see that she is living proof how people can live a life with the truth, and how they can stand on their own feet. 
After some time, the Zoroark agrees to dispel the illusions it has made, and appoint the rest of its power to Marie for her to be the guardian pokemon of the people of Inaba.
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boxturret · 24 days ago
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The "Mystery" of the Sleeping Mata Nui
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Bionicle is, by volume, pretty bad¹. I think this is indisputable at this point. There are some cool base concepts that were completely ignored by the final story in favour of kidnapped expat americans, and toothy gangsters lounging on couches, I've done a post previously about some of the earlier ideas behind the so called "ignition arc" that, shockingly, makes sense of one of the most nonsensical sequences of events ever put to paper.
Now, I'm quite a big fan of the GSR, despite it being firmly outside of the roughly 18 months² of Bionicle I think matters. I've made a 3D model of it³, I've painted a legoes version of it, I love it. Now, outside of Mata Nui Rising being a legitimately great piece of animation, and the design of the robot itself being amazing, what really draws me to the GSR as a concept is that is is very core to the series itself. Right from the start it was always planned to reveal that the island the series was set on had formed⁴ over the face of a massive robot.
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It predates the line even being called Bionicle.
Recently I saw this map again. Its a terrible map, I think most will agree. Its just utter nonsense, even the story penned by Greggory T Farstey seems to not pay any heed to this map.
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But this time I noticed something. This is a map of the GSR, the islands on the sides are supposed to be in its arms. They're at its sides. They didn't do the pose...
Right from the start, the idea was that the GSR would by lying on the ocean floor with his arms and legs spread out.
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Seemingly aping the Vitruvian Man image, a famous anatomical study by da Vinci⁵. An early internal image makes this clear.
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And this pose was quite key to the series as a whole, being depicted on the face of the Mask of Life, a mask that eats people.
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So I, and probably many people, had just assumed that the GSR was lying on the sea bed in this pose, it just fits too well. I think its just one of those things that the community had come to accept.
But this map threw it all in to doubt, because...I don't think anything actually depicting that pose was ever officially released.
Now, I'm not going to go in to some big "Oh that pose isn't CANON!!!" thing, because I don't care about canon⁶ one bit. I just find it funny how they just failed to show one of the key images of the series.
The closest we get is this image from somewhere of the GSR floating in space scanning things I guess. Idk I don't care.
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For the record, we know the GSR was lying in that pose. This is a fact.
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Concept art from that time makes it clear, and there's even a blocking animation found in a puddle of goo⁷ that shows the animation from a fixed angle, showing that yes he was in that pose.
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I'm not saying this is a failure of the Mata Nui rising animation. Its one of the best things to come out of later Bionicle. Its well filmed and really shows the sheer scale of the robot. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
I think what this comes down to is them trying way too hard to hide the final reveal, that this was all taking place in and around a massive robot.
If you look at the sketch posted earlier you can see that part of the hand is sticking out of the water, forming what are known as the three finger islands. These islands have been seen in other art predating the Bionicle name.
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And there was attempts to bring them back, having them appear after the Toa defeat Makuta.
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But unfortunately they never made it in to any final material.
So I guess, to try and bring this to some sort of conclusion, I think this is just an example of how poorly managed Bionicle was in the later years. There were good ideas there, a lot of them made sense and worked both from a micro scale as conflict for the Toa, and from a macro scale of them repairing the GSR, its just unfortunate that so many of these ideas were ignored entirely.
They just kinda....forgot to ever depict the GSR on the ocean floor, to make it tie in to the Life Mask imagery.
Its funny but also tragic.
~
I remember once I was treated like an alien for not just liking Bionicle wholesale. I was weird for having opinions about it, having parts I liked and parts I didn't⁸. Nowadays it doesn't seem quite as bad, I don't know if its just the groups I associate with, or if the fandom has gotten a bit more reflective in recent years.
But I think, at the end of the day, love it or hate it, all Bionicle fans can agree on one thing: The Mata Nui GSR was B4, one of 6 large robots that travelled through space with their mothership in this configuration:
Its not even worth mentioning at this point. Its just common sense.
¹-By weight though its merely mediocre. ²-Bionicle ended the instant the Toa went in to the Bohrok Hive. ³-Its now known to be horribly inaccurate because of🦆 ⁴-Camouflage system believers, just leave. Block me. You are not welcome here and I don't want you reading my posts. Your existence disgusts me. ⁵-That posting here would get my account banned. ⁶-Technically, if you are a supporter of the one true canon of Greg, you have to reject the GSR lying in this pose, and accept that map as the only canon representation of the GSR on the sea floor. ⁷-🦆goo ⁸-AKA having standards.
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anything.
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licorice-tea · 1 year ago
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The Way Things Go
Pairing: Kaku x reader
Content: strawhat reader, kaku calls reader “miss”, mild smut/ implied smut, sexual innuendoes and things, huge spoilers for water 7 and enies lobby!!!
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: probably 2-3 more parts after this one… but idk yet… he’s so sleazy actually and i’m OBSESSED. anyway hope you enjoy! oh and if you want to be on the taglist (for this one or any other fics of mine) i have a post about it linked on my pinned!
Part 1
As promised, you meet Kaku in the small harbor where the Straw Hats hid the Going Merry when you all first arrived to Water 7 earlier that day. He’s already there when you arrive, and praises the craftsmanship of the ship from a distance. You answer all his questions about the ship- or as many as you’re able to, at least. Which brings about the question of “Who takes care of the damages?” so you have to explain how you haven’t really been able to get any repairs as long as you’ve all had her.
The two of you board the Going Merry, only to find Zoro “sleeping.” He cracks an eye open as the two of you walk by and almost says something to Kaku, who’s a stranger to the swordsman, then sees you and simply shrugs before dozing off once more.
Kaku observes certain parts of the ship, like the mast and even the floorboards, eventually having assessed nearly every area of the deck. Then he asks you to show him below deck, which you do, and give him a tour of the various rooms. He mainly just checks out the port windows and things like that, until you’ve gone through every room in the lower levels- well, all except one. When you reach the end of a particular hall and then turn back without letting him in to the room behind you, he points and asks, “And what might that room be?”
“Oh, that’s just my room.”
“Ah… I’d hate to intrude but, I do need to see all of the ship.” He doesn’t. He already knows this vessel is past the point of no return- it’s a miracle it’s even floating on the water right now. However, Kaku doesn’t want to tell you that quite yet. He’d hate to disappoint you and…. ruin his chances. Plus, he’s a little very curious to see what your room is like.
“… Um, just give me a second then, ok?” You excuse yourself into your room, and begin tidying up at a shocking speed. It’s already pretty neat actually, but you still go around the entire room making sure nothing is out of place. Once you’re sure there’s nothing lying about that shouldn’t be, you open the door to find him leaning in the frame. “Sorry about that, you can come in now.”
“No need to apologize, miss y/n. Kaku slips past you into your room- “Gosh, what a treat!” he thinks. Like this little glimpse into your private space is really a view of your mind, too. He makes his way over to the port window in slow strides, taking the opportunity to look at all of your little trinkets and decorations.
“Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thanks… I don’t usually bring guys straight to my room on a first date.” You mean it as a joke, but he takes it in full stride.
“Oh yeah? I guess I should count myself lucky then.”
“I… mhm.”
Kaku laughs, “So, maybe I’ll get extra lucky later on. “
“Sorry?”
“Don’t be.” He looks over at you, pausing his inspection of the port window and how stable (?) it is. “Just joshing you, miss, I should be the one apologizing for my… crude joke.”
You shrug and mumble under your breath, “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh?” He walks closer, trapping you in the space between your bed and the wall and himself. It’s barely enough room for one person to stand in if they’re perpendicular to your bed, since it’s just a narrow space. (You have a sort of rational fear of waking up to water leaking through the wall and straight onto you and your sheets, so pushing the bed out a bit was a natural solution.) “Not a bad idea, or not a bad joke?”
“Not a bad-“
He cuts you off with his lips on yours, it waiting to hear your reply. Kaku wants you, and he knows he won’t get much time with you between everything that’s about to go down with CP9 (unbeknownst to you.) It’s sudden, and already quite deep right off the bat. His head is tilted more than a person usually would tilt their head upon entering a kiss to compensate for the length of his nose, but he’s anything but embarrassed- so long as it brings him closer to you and faster, it’s worth the strain on his neck. You would giggle if you weren’t so caught off guard by how he seems to overtake all your senses in mere moments. As proof of the shock to your system, the immediate closeness of the kiss leads you to open your lips in a slight gasp. Kaku sighs contentedly before sucking at your bottom lip, and you to hum in surprise. His hands find their place on the small of your back, and the tips of his fingers travel up and down your spine. You accept him, letting him continue sucking and smothering your lips with his while throwing your arms around his neck. It’s all happening very fast- but you like it.
After a few moments he pulls away, breathing heavily with a thin line of saliva still connecting your lips to his. He swipes it away by brushing his thumb over your lips, and wiping it off on the side of his pants (though still holding around your back with one hand.)
“What-“
“I hope you’ll excuse my-“ he pauses due to his panting, “rushing into things.”
“Y-yeah it’s fine, I was just…” his lips ghost over yours once more, so close you can feel his breath fanning over your skin. “Surprised.”
This time, you’re the one to close the distance and tighten your arms around his shoulders. There’s an underlying sense of need, somewhere deep within you, that hadn’t been there when you’d first walked onto the ship. No, it was his actions and words- the way he looked at you now with such a want in his eyes- that caused this. Of course, you’d already been attracted to him, but you certainly wouldn’t have been the one to make the first move like he had so early on. Yet here you are, making out with a man you just met earlier in the day.
But then you feel his knee slotting itself between your legs, and whine before you come to your senses. You push down his thigh, “We can’t.”
“Mmph- why not?”
“I just met you.”
He chuckles, though it’s more evident in the shake of his shoulders than any audible laughter. “That would be a mighty fine reason.”
“Yeah… I- I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, y/n. Is it ok if I just call you that?”
You smile and nod. Two seconds ago his tongue was in your mouth, now he’s asking for permission to drop formalities- funny guy.
“Well, y/n, I don’t know how long you’ll be in town for, nor how busy I’ll be with work. I want to make the most of this time together.”
Kaku had known this was a bad idea from the start, in all honesty. But when Robin begged Spandam for safe passage for her crew-her friends- out of Water 7, and he’d seen your bounty poster along with the others, he was “struck by Cupid’s arrow.” And getting to meet you in person by coincidence was even better. He had fallen hard and fast, and now he wanted to keep things moving that way before you were gone from his life forever.
However, in fear of making you uncomfortable, he pulls away. Kaku makes it all the way to the other side of the room before you do something that surprises even yourself. You grab his wrist and walk backwards to your bed again, this time lowering yourself to sit on the plush comforter.
His hand interlocks with yours as you let yourself fall back completely. “You… are you sure, y/n?”
You nod. “I’m sure.” And, like the comedian you are, ask “Why? Do you not want to anymore?”
Kaku’s eyes roam over your body, all laid out just for him. His fingers trace your side and come to rest on your hip, giving you a gentle squeeze. “N-no, I want to. I want you.”
With the hand he isn’t inadvertently pining to the bed, you draw his face closer to yours so you can kiss him again. He exhales shakily and all but climbs on top of you, slotting his knee between your legs once more.
You pray, for Zoro’s sake above deck, that he isn’t too loud a lover.
Taglist: @imaginarydreams
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zennx-23 · 3 months ago
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The Return of The Grim Reaper and The Hounds from Hell
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“Ken?! Daigo!?” Valt’s eyes widened.
“Hey Valt!” Ken smiled.
“Long time no see.” Daigo smiled back as well. 
This was a HUGE surprise.
“Y-Y-Your- your back!” Valt’s eyes watered, making a bee line towards them, pulling the duo in a great big hug. “I missed you guys so much!!”
-
Context: You’ve probably seen this image floating around, whether through google or in thumbnails used in videos, made by people in the Beyblade Burst anime community.
You’ve probably wondered if those images were real or not.
They’re not real, because I’m the one that made them. Way back in 2021.
I made a bunch of fake screenshots/edits for Burst for the fun of it, and I wanted to test my art skills to see if I was able to replicate the show.
Due to my frustration with the show, and how I didn’t like the direction the series was going and how it handled its characters, I’ve made some fakeshots to fill the void of having characters I wanted back return. You’ve most likely seen them, and I will be making videos about those pictures in the future.
(And before anyone says I should be mad for my art being used without credit in people’s videos being spread around- the whole point of these screenshots were for this exact reasons.
It’s crazy how far my art has reached across YouTube and I really appreciate the feedback I’ve seen from people about them! I really do appreciated it!)
Before QuadStrike came to be - and just in general, I wanted to create these fakeshots for a long time. I’ve gotten a lot better at digital drawing(and have since improved a lot in the past 4 years now) and wanted to draw my Burst ideas into reality, drawing characters from S1 returning with new outfits and everything. Hence why I drew Ken and Daigo because at the time, people really wanted them to return during Surge/Superking and just missed them a lot.
Now that QuadStrike ended, and Burst is finally done, while I’m glad the final episode was more of a proper send off for the series with all the characters getting cameos near the end, it sucks that they didn’t get any updated designs and just used their S1 attires. To be fair, that is a lot to ask, especially considering they only show up on screen for a couple of seconds but still-
Regardless, it was nice to see Ken again(and Daigo too even for a short bit), but admittedly while I do love Ken’s design, I wish they didn’t keep his old scarf. Design wise it looks great but the old scarf makes his new outfit look off and clashes with his new design. But that’s just me.
~Ken & Daigo Fakeshot Background~
Ken’s outfit is from an image I found when scrolling through google for images for Ken, and found it a really cool design that look like a proper evolution to his S1 outfit. I unfortunately don’t know who the original artist is, but simply know I’m not the one who created this wonderful design.
As for Daigo’s outfit it was all me. I wanted to create something unique for him while also retaining what made his design him. He now sports his bandanna around his neck as opposed to his head, letting his hair fall down- symbolizing his growth and wanting to be more open with others and himself, and his jacket is similar to his original one, but is also a hoodie that kinda resembles a skull.
So many people though his design looked really weird and understandable really. Maybe the context changes your mind now? Knowing that it’s because of character development reasons?? Idk lol
As for the background used here, it’s from Turbo, which I edited the background from a screenshot I used to make the fakeshot more believable and real. Idk which episode it was, I stumbled upon the screencap and thought it was perfect. Here it is, free to use.
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Also made a speedpaint of this if anyone’s interested in seeing the process!
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mellowyellowdaydream · 4 months ago
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Penance
A/N: I had to, like come on. You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to be bent over by him👇🏻??? Anywho hope you enjoy!
Word count: 2654 😘
Warnings: 18+ minors Do Not interact please. P in V, Smut, Priest Dean(yummy), so I guess Priest Kink, blowjob, Oral(male receiving), role play, wrap it before you tap it!, cream pie 🤷🏻‍♀️
Not proof read-oops!
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This hunt lead them to a small town, one where tragedy after tragedy happened. Unfortunately it was a heavily religious, well-knit small town. And unfortunately for Y/N that meant going undercover as a member of the church, more specifically a nun.
But on the other side of that coin- Dean Winchester would be dressed like a priest. And fuck did he look good dressed in the all black clerical suit, only the white of the collar popping out against his throat. He would always tug on it or shift it around because it was too tight for his neck to be comfortable. A fucking monkey suit. Is what he would think, never stopping the cycle of pulling at his cuffs and collar because of the restrictions.
He stopped all of the ministrations when Y/N stepped out of the bathroom in her habit. His eyes glued to her and trying to find her in the figureless polyester. She looked so different compared to her regular wear of eccentric goth outfits, she had none of her many necklaces, or the layers to the outfit. This looked too basic to be Y/N, the only thing that would help him identify her would be her smell, her signature dried roses, tobacco and musk. Which honestly would fit right into the church and wouldn’t be out of place.
He looked at her with awe, because somehow with her height they couldn’t exactly find the right length. So it was slightly longer, the edges dragging just barely on the ground. Making her look like she floated around, so in a way she ended up being the same old spooky Y/N.
In order to gain access to this community, they had to infiltrate the church. Only being “visiting” Fathers and Sister. So they did what they could, sitting-abielt uncomfortably-in on the Mass. The “Fathers” were pushed to man the confessional one afternoon, which they were more than happy to oblige cause that meant members of the community coming to confess their deepest darkest sins for judgement. Perfect!
There were two private confessionals, one on each side of the church, contained in the back corners. Each had a partitioned side, where if the sinner needed more confidentiality they could use it. It was easy enough for Y/N to blend in while the two brothers worked through the confessions. She just sat off to the side, close to the altar but not far enough from the confessionals in case one of the boys needed her help, which she already gave Dean a notecard of prayers and penance he could give out, as well as the steps for the confession. She had a rosary, thumbing through the beads to make it look like she was praying.
When in actuality she was thinking about Dean in the suit, too tight of a suit. But they don’t exactly make ready to wear for a bulky beefcake and a slender Sasquatch.
A lot of the younger female parishioners of the church were giggling with glee at the idea of the fantasy of a hot priest. They knew they could say what they wanted and hide behind a partition. And they could probably giggle about how nervous they were being unfaithful in their ways.
Am I jealous? Y/N thought to herself. No I can’t be jealous, he comes home to me. I have no worries. But would I much rather be the one on my knees in front of Dean, yeah yeah I would. -There it is. She just wanted to be the one on her knees for him.
So she waited and waited until the little crowded lines dwindled down. Both boys waited, no signs of either coming out until Sam peaked his head out of his confessional to see just Y/N sitting in a pew close to Dean's confessional. The last little sinner left, scrambling away once they realized it was just Sister Y/N and Father Sam staring her down. Not before doing a genuflect facing the altar and slammed the heavy wood doors to the church behind them.
Y/N cleared her throat, “I’m going in. Don’t let anyone in.” She said quickly shutting the door behind her in the private partitioned side.
Sam just sighed and let the two to commit monstrous sins. So he wandered around the building seeing if anyone else was around, breaking out his emf detector to see if they missed anything in their previous sweeps.
Y/N kneeled on the small leather kneeler, waiting for the small partition to slide open to reveal an obscured profile of Dean.
“In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.” Father Dean said, fully leaning into the monotone priest's voice.
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been way too long since my last confession. My sins are those of adultery, lust, and unholy thoughts about my Priest. For these sins and those before I am truly sorry.” Y/N said, trying to hide her seduction for all of this role play. Dean perked up at the first sentence. Immediately recognizing your voice and perfume.
“Please, join me on the other side of the confessional. For you need a more hands on penance.” Dean said, raising his hand to motion for you to come around.
Y/N quickly got up, gathering the skirt of the habit in her left hand as she stood and quickly scurried out of the partition side, looking around to see no one else in the church. Sam must have wandered off.
She finished her scurry to the more open side of the confessional. Opening the door to a very small room, enough to fit two chairs facing one another. As she shut the door, the outside became vacuum sealed from them. No voices bouncing around, all sound absorbed by the wood paneling of the room and the thick outdated carpet.
As Y/N turned she saw quite the sight, Dean waiting for her his legs spread enough for her to knee between. His bulge was almost camouflaged in the monotone on his suit.
Y/N collapsed to the ground there and then, wanting to crawl to Dean in this confined space. Her ass arched out behind her, the soft globes accentuated by the black fabric flowing off of her. Dean could wait to unwrap her from the Habit, wanting to find out what she has hidden beneath it all.
Y/N approached slowly, trying to drag out her arrival in front of Dean’s lap. It seemed like it took her minutes to get there but in reality it was maybe 30 seconds. When she was in front of him, she sat back on her feet below her, kept her arms by her sides and simply rested her head on his right thigh, looking up at him with the best doe eyes she could.
And fuckkkkk Dean wishes he had a Polaroid camera with him to capture this moment. Because he wanted to remember this for the rest of his life. She was gorgeous, ethereal. Dean would have thought she was an angel herself with how pure and beautiful she looked. He raised his left hand, rested his palm against her cheek and used his thumb to stroke her cheek bone.
Y/N gasped at the gesture, loving the small intimate touch. This made Dean want to slide his thumb down her face until he could run it over her bottom lip. Which he did because he loved to feel her smooth skin under his rough hands. Somehow she always was soft no matter how scared she would get.
While he ran his thumb back and forth over her lip. Y/N’s tongue poked out, the tip of it lapping at Dean's thumb. She coaxed him to push his thumb into her open mouth. Her tongue now playing with the of his thumb, her lips closed around the digit. Her sucking slightly to add pressure, making Dean gasp as he imagined it being his cock in her warm, wet mouth.
He popped his thumb out, rubbing her saliva over her lips sloppily. Coating the surrounding area as well.
“You’ve been a bad, bad girl. I think you need to say some prayers while on your knees.” Dean said, his hand now cupping your chin in his hand, pinching it slightly.
“Yes Father.” Y/N answered, a slight rock and adjustment didn’t go unnoticed by Dean.
“You need to be punished. But for now, I want you to beg for forgiveness with your mouth around my cock. Can you do that, sister?” Dean asked, adding your formal title on the end.
Oh he likes this too now does he. I can work with that. Y/N thought, adjusting herself on her knees again because the ache between her legs was starting to become unbearable. And any relief was good enough.
“Yes Father.” Y/N said gazing up at Dean with her doe eyes again. She got to work releasing Dean's cock from the confines of his tight polyester pants, working them open enough to scooch them down enough so they wouldn’t get in the way of Y/N’s penance.
He busted out of the pants and briefs that caged him. Dean hissing as the cool air made contact with his throbbing member.
Y/N licked at his tip gingerly, collecting the precum that was gathering in the slit. She circled her tongue around the head, and as her tongue made its way to the natural position in her mouth she brought her lips to encase the tip.
Dean gasped at this action, his left hand gripping her scarf and his right going to the thin wood chair arm. He shuddered as she sank her mouth down, down, down his length. Gagging slightly when his tip hit her uvula, making her mouth full of saliva. She sucked, hollowing out her cheeks and started to bob her head.
Her arms finally joined the equation, one balancing on Dean's thigh. Gripping tightly to his pants. The other hand worked its way down, grabbing her skits to bring over her knees so she could access her own pleasure.
“No touching yourself. You are here to receive Penance.” Dean choked out as he noticed what you were doing.
“You are such a sinner Sister. Getting turned on, sucking your priest's cock.” Dean said, adding to the fire that needed to be stoked in Y/N’s belly.
Y/N popped off of Deans cock, making his hiss once again at his sensitive flesh being exposed to cool air. She worked her hand that was on his thigh to his member to keep pumping.
“Father, I need you to punish me. Please.” Y/N said, never slowing down her strokes. Her lips all puffy from sucking, saliva dribbling down the side of her chin.
Dean brought the hand that was getting tangled in her scarf down to her face to wipe her chin with his thumb. Bringing the thumb to press into her mouth.
“Fine. Hands and knees, present yourself.” Dean said, waiting for her to follow his command.
Y/N made quick work, turning around on her knees and walking forward enough to give Dean space behind her, dropping down to her hands. But quickly adjusting to slide the skirt of her robe up over her hips to reveal blood red satin panties. The pair settling between her cheeks as she lowered herself again and presenting her covered ass and pussy to dean.
He again wished he had that camera to capture this moment.
“Fucking beautiful. Look at you, you got so wet Sister you're soaking through your panties.” Dean said, taking his time to knee behind her and drag the knuckle of his middle finger against the wet spot that formed on Y/N’s panties.
She shuddered as he rubbed his finger through her folds that were under the satin. The cool air adding to all the sensations.
Dean then grabbed her hips and lined up behind her, pulling her panties to the side so he could slide into her pussy. It was glistening even in the lowlight of the small room. His tip probed at her entrance, he slid his cock up and down her inner labia. Her clit got bumped, making her jump at the contact.
Once Dean felt like he was done teasing, he found her entrance and decided to sink to the hilt. The sudden stretch making Y/N choke out a moan.
“Oh Father!” She exclaimed, feeling so full and a slight sting at the sudden intrusion.
Dean pulled almost all the way out, and slid back in. Working at an increasing pace to help her relax and stretch further. Y/N was gasping, bracing one of her hands on the wall in front of her. She was so worked up from suck on Dean's cock that it took no time for the both of them to start to feel the beginning of the build.
Y/N dropped down to an elbow and worked one hand down to her panties edge. Fingers working to get under the elastic waistband and down past her pudic hair. Her fingers finding the front of her pussy and her pointer finger and middle finger working their way through to her clit. The added pressure helping her orgasm build, making her pussy flutter around Dean as he is now starting to slam into her. His balls coming up to slap her swollen pussy lips that covered her fingers working on her clit. That added to her ministrations, each bump somehow adding a small shockwave to her fingers that worked circles over and around her clit.
“Father!” Y/N exclaimed as a particular thrust hit deep enough in her for her to see stars.
One last snap of his hips and another few circles of her clit and they hit ecstasy, it blooming in Y/N’s lower belly and flooding her body with warmth. This spurring Dean to hit his peak and shoot his hot cum into her pussy. The combination of the two slowly dribbled out as he gave a few short thrusts to carry them through the bliss.
Dean pulled out, his tip catching on the way out making Y/N jump at the sensation. Her pussy swollen and leaking. Dean readjusted her underwear, knowing he’ll just rub whatever’s on the carpet into the carpet once they stand back up.
He does so first, shuffling his pants back up, tucking himself back into his pants. He noticed Y/N trying to stand up, and wobbling slightly as she got to her feet. Her hand going to her forehead to adjust the scarf around it. Dean watch her blink a few times as she adjusted the skirt, making sure it wasn’t tucked in anywhere to expose her to parishioners.
“Am I forgiven?” She asked, looking back at Dean with her doe eyes.
“Oh, definitely forgiven. Might make this a habit.” He said, winking at Y/N hoping his corny joke would land. She just snorted air out her nose and rolled her eyes.
Gesturing to her outfit to get a second opinion that everything was in order. Dean assuring her, then doing the exact same, which she assured him with the okay hand symbol.
They decided to exit one at a time from the confessional. Dean waited a minute or two before exiting after her. He found her waiting in the front hall of the church next to Sam. The two of them looking at him as he walked up, Y/N had heart eye and a rosy face while Sam just looked slightly judgemental and wanting to leave.
Dean just smirked and huffed a laugh out as they exited the church.
“Sinners.” Sam mumbled under his breath. Y/N just laughed and followed behind the two men.
Ah to be a sinner.
~end~
Any one wanna join being tagged on future posts? Lemme know!
@bettystonewell huge shout out to her cause she’s been so helpful with me getting into my writing! If you haven’t checked her out yet I would take the time to do so!!!
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