#the antagonist x reader

[child0feden]

BURN

not important x reader

♡ nsfw headcanons for some kinks i think not important would have!

୨୧ god… i really do just write this shit for myself lolol! i often refer to him as nathan but he is not named in this work so you can call him whatever you like <3

♡ view my video game masterlist here

reading music recommendations: morbid fascination of death by carpathian forest - dragged away by takumi sekiguchi sloan

* 18 + content, please do not reader if you’re a minor *

choking | breath play

♡ he knows he’s so much bigger than you and could very easily snap your neck if he really wanted to… but you trust him enough not to and he absolutely loves having that power, he’ll often wrap his entire arm around your throat whilst roughly fucking into you from behind

୨୧ hearing you quietly choke and gasp for air makes his cock twitch like nothing else, feeling your cunt tighten around him like a vice as your body begins to resist and watching you clench your fists… you’ve definitely passed out a couple times with him, he just gets too into it, but you don’t mind <3 he always apologises for “ going overboard ” with a semi awkward kiss to your head

branding | knifeplay

♡ he brands you with his trusty hunting knife! cutting up your thighs or lower stomach, carving his name into you or degrading words such as “ pig ” or “ whore ” he doesn’t jack off whilst doing it, he just breathes heavily and admires the streams of blood coming from you

୨୧ he’ll often have you tied up when cutting you too, watching as your writhe and throw your head back, moans of pleasure mixing with whimpers of pain… yet you don’t tell him stop or use your safe word, that always makes him smirk and dig his knife deeper, drawing even more blood that will no doubt drip down stain his sheets if it hasn’t already

consensual non-consent | begging

♡ yeah… he fucking loves this! you two will often go out into the woods late at night, surrounded by nothing but forest for miles, no chance in hell anyone would catch you and call the cops ( not that he’d care anyways, he’d most likely threaten them with a gun or actually shoot them ) he’ll let you run off in front of him in a skimpy outfit then come after you when a couple minutes have passed

୨୧ when he finds you, you’ll put on a show of “ please don’t ” and all that usual shit before he tells you to “ shut the fuck up ” and shoves you to the ground, pulling down his black cargo pants and forcing his rock hard cock down your throat before beginning to roughly fuck your face as you cry around him, mascara running down your face and your own juices dripping down your legs

♡ he’ll always pull out of your mouth and cum all over your face, watching as his cum drips down your face alongside your tears as you cough… it takes less than a minute for him to get on top of you from behind, shoving your face into the leaves and dirt below you as you writhe and continue to beg for him to not touch you! he’s so so so rough with this, he’s ripping your underwear, plunging his cock into you raw and thrusting at an animalistic pace as he groans in your ear, harshly gripping your hair and pushing your face deeper into the ground as you kick your legs, screaming for someone, anyone to help you

୨୧ hearing you beg for your decency and for him to just let you go, it turns him on so bad! he doesn’t last long in these sessions at all due to how much he loves them…

♡ but as soon as he’s blown his load inside of you, the act drops and you’re giggling, leaning your head back to press a sloppy kiss on his lips and he whispers against your lips “ fucking whore… ” before letting out a deep chuckle

gunplay

♡ i mean, how could he not have a thing for gunplay? come on! he absolutely loves pressing the barrel of his pistol against your head whilst you suck him off, never telling you if it’s actually loaded and keeping his finger on the trigger

୨୧ he definitely makes you suck off his gun too, roughly pulling your head off of his cock and pushing it down onto his pistol as your eyes widen… he adores the look of shock that comes over your face when you realise just what’s happening, often smirking down at you with an almost crazed look in his eyes

[shoot1ngst4r]

dare i say Billy Hargrove?

the misunderstanding of Billy as a character is genuinely my roman empire, it’s been on my mind for years but idk if anyone will wanna listen😭 (i’m open to conversations btw)

[cain-speaks]

LMK!Monkey Smiling Headcanons

i have so much to update on my blogs 😔 in the meantime have monkey headcanons

Wukong no longer sees smiling as aggressive due to prolonged contact with humans. As a result, neither does most of Flower Fruit Mountain/Huaguoshan. He and most of the mountain only consider it aggressive depending on the context (ex. some of the older monkeys may "smile" at each other aggressively).

I think Wukong actually really likes making his human/non-monkey partner smile/laugh because he knows it's different for humans (granted, he does understand smiling can be complicated).

Macaque, however, DOES consider it aggressive. I heavily headcanon him as autistic so I am thinking he never understood when the mountain starting leaning into more human customs (this is a form of him not understanding social cues in my head).

This doesn't really change if Macaque has a human/non-monkey spouse. In the beginning of the relationship it can start a lot of fights if you smile in his direction 💀 eventually he WILL learn that he doesn't immediately have to go into fight mode, but he'll also super appreciate if you find other methods to express happiness w him :3

I also think he takes great care to never snarl/smile/show his fangs at his partner. Ever. The only exception might be if you're curious and ask to see them, but even then it can make him pretty uneasy. He'll probably do some sort of placating/submissive gesture during to further reassure he's not being aggressive.

Macaque IS an asshole, which is part of why he gets irked over smiling/bared teeth, but I think most of the time it has more to do with his trauma and his struggle to distinguish between real threats and miscommunications. He'll get there.

because of their differing opinions, MK is confused on how to act once he gets his monkey form. Macaque trains him more "traditionally" (with an emphasis on grooming, hierarchy, respect, etc.) while Wukong is more "modern" and easy-going. This also means Wukong and Macaque have gotten into some gnarly fights because Macaque has assumed MK was trying to be threatening/aggressive.

After this, MK picks up smiling when nervous/covering his mouth when smiling.

[quantum1mmortality]

Why is Jimmy kinda.. just a little bit...

[ophelian-darling]

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Yandere Suguru Geto x Female reader.

Summary : Blessings form in different shapes and bright in different colors; Love being the fairest and liveliest one.

TW : Obsession, minor character death, discrimination, pregnancy, manipulation.

enjoy ♡

It is divine to think how hell would be regarded into grotesquely crimson images within the human imagination: Sufferance is too common, wounds as a thorn prick and lasts as a heart's ache, Yet consider this when we think of heaven: purity- innocence of Eden in its prime, everything that sources its beauty and continence from a glass sphere no soul ever stepped on, farthest from the nearest paradise which we -so far- know of. Every now and then, the glass sphere's page of the sky would rain glossy drops, bright in the charm of a moon's haze, kissing earth's soil ever so gently after a long fall through the dark space. The drop; a seed of everything that derives all good in this life, either blooms into flowers, little joys that are worth living for, or even people- lost angels on devil's land. 

Suguru believes he has an eye for perfection: the images of others reflect on his irises and pass, be a fragment of a forgotten dream and ghost in a corner within his anamnesis. life ought to be lived as a sort of a sweven, destined to be erased once the reaper sinks in its teeth; Not like you have much of an option as a sorcerer, you just keep fantasizing and drawing rose-colored glasses about a life you know you can't have, sighing when conjuring a dear friend's lineaments, feeling a warmth under an eyelid when a beloved's smile flickers through a faint image of cogitation. a needle of duty had sewed up every passage to his heart; there was no horizon to look up to, except that one of exorcising curses to no end, saving that little part of happiness that was rightfully his to others who already had a fair share of it.

Suguru would burn the candles of thought and wander around a series of scenarios: what would it be like to love? What color is romance and what taste are kisses? There must be a reason why the moon was put on a pedestal of artistry, or a color of blood to abridge all tongues and words of ardor. There had to be a reason why someone was so eager and willing to hand their hearts on a platter to someone else, someone who was looked upon as the apple of eye. It seemed absurd: humans are merely products of vice, planted to sin and harvested to destroy, every letter and word they utter weighs nothing heavier than a lie, So why would such a morbid creature empty the jar of heart on another morbid creature? It is a wounding, shameless lie.

Cease to feel and halt to sense, there was no meaning in draining the amphora of emotion on someone, a one who can't taste curses to know how much of a grace it's devouring. it's pointless to break the glass of heart over a bod that ignores your agony to indulge in its little world of pink lies. He just wishes- Only if, if he slices that part of him that screamed of humanity everyday, the part that made him extend a wing to shield the helpless from their demise… He hated having a heart. 

Once during a green summer, one that had a breeze of May and the pink warmth of Valentine's day, The sphere wrapped a blessing in a curse's fabric; a gift so pristine it competed with the glimpses of eternity with a smile and tore the horizon's edge with a kiss, a form of life that its existence on this cursed land was the vilest injustice ever committed towards its chastity. The Angel; now blossoming from the sphere's seed into a human with flesh and blood, nerves and bones, eyes and a beating heart, is left to be stained and tarnished, munched and swallowed by the imperfect- the bad seeds, the swirl of everything evil. a tear of a curse could lace a sea of blessings, and you had to be protected: from the serpents, the devils, the flawed, or anyone else that wasn't him.

"Y'know, Suguru, sometimes when I look through your eyes, I can see you fighting yourself, as if you were your own worst enemy" You started the conversation like this, so casually, with no hint or intention of digging too deep into his psyche.

July, casting blazing rays and nearly melting the shadows outside, while the pair of you decided to remain in class for no obvious purpose. Suguru didn't mind having you around, aware that you weren't going to engage in tittle-tattling, leaving him with the room to think. It's been a long year. 

With a strike of sudden concern, and maybe a little suspicion, He directs his whole posture towards you, noticing your relaxed position on the seat beside his. a silence of something that was about to begin stretched before he asked "What do you mean?" 

a Winter night smile drew itself on your lips. In a movement of Bonnie Parker leaning on her motorcycle, you faced his confused comportment, rolling your eyes playfully before replying "You thought that no one would notice? That's cute. but I must admit, you're so good at hiding it, even Satoru wasn't able to see it, I'm surprised!" something brightened in your expression, contradicting the words you just said. As if you were Suguru's Anima; you spoke so confidently, insisting on extracting a part you didn't like of him.

And that confidence stirred a certain sentiment within him. something he would see as… vulnerability?

He stared. 

Another silence, silence of an absurd play, one that the audience certainly didn't need to absorb the scene. 

You continued "Amanai was a human like any other, someone with dreams and hopes, fears and triggers, and a family- and a lot of friends. she lived her life to the fullest… Well, maybe not completely, but at least she had some taste of blessing before her death. people aspire to horizons, living enough to reach it and sometimes not, savoring both sweet and bitter times before kicking the bucket. But that's not what we're talking about here" 

His eyes couldn't get any wider, the images played slowly and vividly while the cassette of that memory didn't seem to stop.

"She's a vessel that can be replaced. Lord Tengen wasn't in that need for her anyway. But are we sorcerers any better? no. we're replaceable as well, unless you are Satoru, which we aren't. Yes, we are strong, but still replaceable. The Jujutsu world needs to continue existing or else cursed spirits will blow everything to bits, and of course, we're the only ones who can keep it going and exorcise these creatures." 

Your fingers twiddled with your necklace, rolling it slowly as your tongue flowed. "I wanted to go everywhere too, I wanted to have a lot of friends to love without worrying that they'll die at any second. I wanted to wander around and behold flowers and snow without seeing an ugly cursed spirit…" 

His tongue wouldn't unwrap, au contraire to his thoughts. his mind moved as fast as forgetfulness would spell, drinking in all of your heart's tears. Perhaps, after all, he wasn't the only one who awakened to a harsh knowledge. 

You, are special.

"It's not fair… why should I be the one who gives up on their happiness to save people who know nothing of my sacrifices…" 

"I-.." your rant comes to a halt, a veil of guilt slides down your expression. 

"Sorry… I didn't mean to remind you of… back then, I talked too mu-" 

"No." He interrupts, his usual resting face painted over. 

"You can continue, I understand you…" Suguru smiles.

Ever since the curtain on your heart was pulled, you seemed to confide in him more; drifting away from Satoru and Shoko slowly and subtly. He didn't want to think of it, yet these pages of poems and lines of serenades whispered something to him everytime he looked through you. She must be unhappy too, Unhappy people are sensitive to the unhappiness of others¹. and to confess, it balmed a little comfort on his soul to see that misery brought you together. Day by day, both of you would speak for hours, crafting an imaginary horizon where everything was a haven for a winsome world, goodwills falling like spring rain. Night by night, He who becomes the one to count the nights, scripting his nightdreams and rehearsing his hopes to a shadow of you that lingered in the corners, only for every word to blend into space once the daybreak spills through the clouds. 

Your voice; it is the voice of his mind now. The shadow of you is melodizing his thoughts and troubles of the heart, lulling his reveries and caroling his visions. The pages of romance flip like petals in the wind: as the silk of your vocal cords tailors the letters with red and pink, he is finally allowed to relish the true colors of so-called love. Yozo² is no longer fool in Suguru's thinking, for wanting to die alongside the one he loved, which Suguru Geto himself now, secretly, hopes to achieve with you.

"Have you ever thought about death?" Green-colored smile, surely wasn't grayed by anything. Suguru just thought, what did you think? Did you want to be with him no matter the place? 

The roles have been reversed. now you're the silent one; you were sure that you did talk too much that day, pouring your wounds into him that now they're his wounds. Guilt stinged your heart, only if you remained silent back then. 

"Um- yes, I'm already accepting it, we're sorcerers after all…" you struggled to compose a thought he'd like, it came out as what a child attempting wisdom would say. speaking to your friend has become a difficult task lately, you didn't want to lose the thread of thinking you shared together, and he seemed quite pleased to talk to you. 

He chuckled. 

"Never thought of making it better for yourself at least?" 

What…

"I used to think so too. But slowly, I'm finally able to see what I was too blinded to see. Remember when you said that you wanted to have a lot of friends and go everywhere? that's rightful of you to ask- but you can't get it whether you plead for it or not. I'm telling you; I know it very well when I say you can have everything you want if you step up and take control." stated he.

As if looking for any other person who seems to notice that there's something odd, you glanced around. nothing was in sight except the trees and grass of the long forest line. 

His face didn't move when he continued "You see, we forgot that we were stronger, smarter and more skilled than the ordinary, say evolution theory: creatures go through a long process of development to become advanced in brain and muscle. some reach the highest stage of development and become a human, while others simply stop in the middle or never start, thus remaining monkeys" 

For some reason, you imagined yourself operating on his brain: cleaving the front of his skull with a sharp scalpel, lifting up his scalp in a way a box of chocolates would be opened, unwrapping and milling his brain convolutions, looking through his memory and mind's eye to see when and where these ideas have crossed his mind so you can uproot them- it is your fault, you filled him with so much tangles for a sweetly simple soul as him.

"...And since monkeys can't survive on their own, we were the ones who would acquire and use their talents to establish Jujutsu and save them, doing it out of kindness and altruism, they give us curses and we cure them in response, continually and with no recognition of our merit…"  

Something in his eyes twitched; he sounded as if he was letting go of an ancient burden, the Messiah's cross thrown off by his back.

"... You, me, Satoru or anyone who uses Jujutsu is the purest form of life on this earth, we're destined to rule as much as we were to protect, to punish as we were to love. we sorcerers are chosen by the heavens…" 

"...Monkeys must die." the corners of his mouth were altered to a frantic excitement, seeming like he'd seen after years of being dim sighted.

It is a blessing to be ignorant. 

It started out subtly. Suguru would continue smiling- the line and twist on his face metamorphosed into one you have no knowledge of: it was strange, uncannily simple and eerily sweet, more of looking at a portrait of a goner and less of seeing a friend. His compassion faded, a mock-lively kindness replaced it, by the nature a moonlight would mimic a sunray's warmth. it is not change, nor epiphany; your friend was dying with no hearse set or heart settled- Suguru slept to no awakening so the priest in Gojo-gesa can breathe to every aspect of life. 

Eyes that used to behold the blessings in everything are now glaring with violence, gnashing its teeth to whoever and whatever didn't wield any cursed energy. it is visible for you to only see, all of the ink and blood jarred behind his eyes, masked perfectly and contained in a patient smile he wore to his subjects— our subjects darling! he would say, giving you a saddened look, as if his gift of a thousand obedient monkey wasn't enough to thrill you as much as it did to him.

“You know how much I love you, right?” he murmured, holding your hand. your eyes pierced the reflection on the vanity glass: a husband and a wife sharing an intimate moment, scenery of a devoted Genji holding a torn Fujitsubo³ and kissing away all of her distress. you switched your sight towards his hand, the one that stroked yours, the one that had on its ring finger a silver band twirled.

“And I'm willing to offer you everything I have, anything you want” He placed a kiss on the crown of your head, billing and cooing in his words “I just ask for a little smile in return, or a little ‘thank you’ for everything I do to us��

“You're taking advantage of innocent people, Suguru”

He scoffs “Are they really that innocent?! All they do is cause destruction and corruption. you're too kind to even call them people” the last word dropped like a glob of mercury, heavy and tarnishing. he's annoyed for sure that you ruined the romantic mood by mentioning monkeys yet again. 

“You're murdering people who came to you for help, Suguru…”

You saw it without looking at it, the flash of rage and loathing, with all its redness and heat a fire had less or more of. you hoped in despair ,maybe there's still the lingering blush of compassion in his heart; the comity of your dear friend Suguru, not the hatred of your husband the monk. His fist flew in front of your face, grabbing your chin and rotating your skull to his penetrating eyes. for a second, a thread was pulled in your chest, cutting your heart with a feeling of fear, was he about to strike you?

“I told you thousands of times… those you cry for so much are. not. people. Do you understand me?!” He pressed on each word, heavy breath fanning your face. you could only look back and try not to recoil under his gaze.

“They ruin our lives, they kill us, they cause suffering and they taint this earth with their filthy emotions… if it wasn't me who gets rid of them and cleans their trash, only heaven knew how much time left for us to live…” he digs his nails into your flesh, gritting his teeth at you “They made you unhappy, they tried to kill me while I was risking my life to save them everyday!” he raised his hands in the air, snarling with full volume. you're sure that Nanako and Mimiko are in another room hearing, and utterly aware of their agreement and devotion to Suguru. 

Frantically, he unwrapped his Gojo-gesa and threw it on the floor, shooting you a glare while he freed himself from the sleeves of his haori. his stare kept lining yours, and when he stripped from the white hada-juban, you've seen it, as if at first sight.

“Shouldn't a wife support her husband?! Why do I feel like everything else except for me matters to you?!” He yelled. it is not the first time you see the scar on his chest, in fact, you've seen it too many times that its lines were as familiar as the dimness of your eyelids. 

“Whom am I doing this all for?! for us! for our family! they're just like us, they've been belittled and cursed by monkeys and they had their happiness snatched brutally from their hands… all just because they were sorcerers” he calmed, yet not eased judging by how sharp his expression was. He dropped his arms to his side, reaching to cup your face and force you to see his eyes “You were hurt too… you begged me to save you years ago… you do remember the day we sat together in class and talked”

You do remember. 

The echo of that hour reverberated through his eyes. in their dark shade, you watched a reflection of yourself, helpless and gray, sew the first threads of his insanity. you wished if life had been a little more cruel and tore off your tongue before you ever got the chance to speak with him.

It's you who chiseled the priest.

He feathered a finger across your cheek, crooning honey “And you remember our dates too, all the kisses and embraces, our wedding and our nights together…” serene as a sea in spring, animating the past into a sweet lull. his eyes smiled to you, cording your heart when continuing “You love me, you love our family, our paradise— and him” His palm spidered to your stomach, stroking the node of flesh “You would never abandon him, would you?”

Can you even? He sojourned far in, tethered to you through a wall of flesh with a string stretching inside of him. the memory of his existence would carve lines in both of your bodies even after his birth.

“You're so selfless, that's why I fell for you darling” whispered he, drinking your silence in taste of obedience. Was there any release from the cuffs you wrapped around your own wrists? Suguru wasn't an imprisoner, he just smelted a bracelet you wished to wear, eager to please and in hunger for your praise, while you, in words and smiles, altered his brain to see in dark color.

“Why don't you say you love me?”  he coated demand with love, pouring foam on your ears in a whisper.

Your skin felt light underneath, like you could walk out of it as a coat. In times like these, when he gave affection and demanded it back, you could only say one thing, unlike a full colored prism of flirtation he can murmur to you.

“I love you so much, Suguru…” at first, saying it was like uprooting a rotting tooth, but as time passed and your tongue knew the taste of lying, it became like picking a fruit.

He smiled “Good girl…” 

His eyes glinted in red “...I love you too…”

[restinsodaroni]

Drawings from chapter 31 of my fic Forever Friends These took me a while to draw, and I like how they came out so on here it goes lol 🐇

[ursa-tan]

Can I have a request for a wally darling x reader where the reader "captures" wally as the villain of the show and has a bit of a dom kink? This is for playfellowxxx and I am 18 years old. Is this ok to request?

You’re mine

Wally Darling x Fem!Villain!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Word count: 3,312 Reading time: ~12 mins

Part 1, Part 2

TW: None

A/N: Honestly this was the first proper request I've gotten and I got really excited to write it! I hope you like it anon! Also, the reader is approximately 6ft tall, just so everyone knows :) Also, I'm really sorry this took so long to put out, have had a lot of stuff going on in my personal life.

Wally awakens, dizzy and almost completely disorientated – just because he can’t sleep doesn’t mean he can’t be knocked out. The world around him seems to spin for a moment as he attempts to orient himself in the darkness. He tries to move his limbs yet finds himself almost unable to move, bar lightly wiggling his body. Soon, Wally comes to realise that his hands are bound behind his back, to the back of a chair. His legs are also bound, rope wrapped around his ankles to hold them together and to hold them to the chair as well.

The room is dark, murky, almost pitch black if it weren’t for the small beam of light piercing through the side of a blind and streaming into the room. It’s just enough to let Wally see what’s happening around him. The room is still around him, not much happening apart from the wind whistling gently through what he can only assume is an open window tucked behind the blind. There are boxes stacked up around the room, pushed to the edges to make way for a desk. The room itself is small, seemingly more of a storage room than anything else.

His concentration on the room is broken when a door opens from somewhere behind him. The sound of the door closing is joined by the clicking of hard bottomed shoes against the wooden floor. He feels fear course through him for a second, jolting him forwards slightly when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“Wally, Darling,” a soft, feminine voice rings out from behind him. Wally already knows exactly who it belongs to. Its full of a sickening joy that causes a pit to open itself up in Wally’s stomach.

“(Y/n),” Wally growls, immediately becoming defensive. The presence of this puppet causes his skin to prickle, making him feel as if his hair is standing on end. “What do you want?” His voice is uncharacteristically sharp and cold, holding a malice that he reserves for when it’s just him and (Y/n).

“Oh, nothing much…” She walks round to his front, crouching down to find herself  eye level with the significantly smaller puppet. Wally stares into her eyes, its one of the few times he’s able to do so. “Just thought you looked especially adorable the other day, couldn’t help but want to snatch you up.” Her voice is playful and flirtatious, it doesn’t match the situation in the slightest.

“You just like causing problems, (Y/n).” Wally can’t help but say her name again, something about it feels good in his mouth, feels like its supposed to sit on his lips.

“Ah, maybe I do, but you love me for it,” She chuckles lightly, standing back up and patting his thigh as she does so. The sudden contact makes him shudder, causing his body to jump – practically pressing himself into her palm. It causes her to freeze, only for a moment, leaning down to stare into Wally’s eyes again.

“Do you like that, Darling?” His last name drips from her lips just like it did before, yet this time it sounds so different. Its sticky and sweet and causes his head to spin slightly.

Wally goes to speak, to say something, but the hand on his thigh halts his voice entirely. He’s not entirely sure why, but he can’t think clearly. The hand on his thigh squeezes lightly, a pressure that causes him to shudder. He wants to lean into it, his mind fogging with something he isn’t quite sue of.

“I need to hear a yes Wally, or I’m going to take my hand away.” Her voice pulls him out of his seeming trance, his head snapping upwards. He stares at her, eyes meeting with a desperation that he didn’t know he could feel.

“Yes,” Wally whispers, pupils blowing wide as he stares.

“Good boy,” She chuckles, voice dripping with that same sticky sweetness from before. Her hand squeezes again, trailing up his thigh and towards his hip. It rests there for a moment before trailing back down to his thigh. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself there”

Wally can’t find it in himself to answer, only staring into (Y/n)’s eyes, vision slightly unfocused. He doesn’t understand why his head is so foggy, but he does know that he wants more of her touch. As a result, he does his best to push his thigh up into her hand.

“Oh, you really do seem to be enjoying yourself,” The smile in her voice is obvious, “I’m going to untie you now, ok? But you have to promise not to try and run.” She seems to have an idea that he can’t think of at all.

Wally just nods, the prospect of being untied doesn’t properly occur in his mind, the idea of escape a million miles away at this very second. He feels her fingers trail down his leg, the other hand joining to untie the rope binding his ankles together. It takes her a few moments of tugging before the rope comes undone, becoming slack and falling to the floor in loose rings. Wally takes a moment to part his legs, stretching them out before returning them to their previous position.

“Good boy, you’re so good for me,” she hums, both hands returning to his thighs, giving them both a squeeze. Her hands are so big, Wally’s sure that she could wrap her hand entirely around his thigh if she wanted to. He wants her to, at least. The words make Wally feel like he’s melting, becoming absolute putty in (Y/n)’s hands.

He melts more when (Y/n) moves behind him, hands coming to his bound wrists and starting to undo them. She’s much softer this time, fingers brushing the bare skin of his wrists as she undoes the ropes. After a few seconds, Wally feels the rope unravel and drop to the floor, yet he doesn’t move. Not even as (Y/n)’s hands begin to trail up his arms, eventually coming to rest on his shoulders, lightly brushing his neck. She stays there for a moment, gently kneading his shoulders, holding him like he’s made of glass. Then, suddenly, her hands are on his face, forcing it backwards so she can stare into his eyes.

“Hi, sweet thing,” she hums, her hands gripping his face rather harshly, forcing him to stay still. She could’ve let go as soon as she tilted his head back, however, Wally wasn’t going to attempt moving. “You look so pretty like this, pupils blown all wide.” She eases up her grip, now stroking his face.

Wally lets out a short sound, something next to a whimper. He can’t tear his eyes away form (Y/n)’s. Her eyes seem to sparkle with something that only serves to draw him in. Like the lore of an anglerfish, he was walking straight into the jaws of danger, yet he couldn’t look away.

(Y/n) tilts his head forwards again, so that she can lean forwards and place her hands on his thighs. They begin to move, one trailing up and under his jumper, under his shirt, splaying across his stomach. Her finger are so warm as they press against Wally’s bare skin. The warmth from her hands bubbled up through his body until it forces a short, soft moan from his lips.

Wally, unable to look into (Y/n)’s eyes from this angle, decides he doesn’t need to keep his eyes open and so let himself relax into the sensations. Eyes fluttering shut, Wally presses himself against her hands, one of his own reaching up to hold onto her bicep. He continues to let out soft moans as (Y/n)’s hands reach up and towards his chest, dancing her fingers delicately across his skin. He finds himself completely unable to focus on anything but the hand on his chest. Until, that is, (Y/n)’s other hand moves to his inner thigh.

It rests rather high up, nearly brushing against his clothed crotch, snapping him out of his earlier fog. The sensation causes Wally to gasp, attempting to buck his hips into her hand without even thinking – its nothing but an involuntary action. He’s desperate for her touch.

(Y/n) chuckles, it’s a sick, sardonic sound that Wally still loves none the less. In fact, he wants to hear it more. More of her voice, more of her. She pulls her hands from his body at the same time, an action that makes him whimper and squirm; but he doesn’t move, he wouldn’t dare.

Footsteps ring out once again as (Y/n) walks round and stops in front of the smaller puppet, crouching down at an attempt to be eye level with him. It doesn’t work, however, as she ends up about chest height, looking up into his blown-out pupils.

“Hey, pretty thing,” She hums, a hand coming up to cup his cheek. “You enjoying yourself?” Everything about her feels like a trap, yet Wally can’t help but lean in. If he gets snatched up and captured, its worth it, as long as it’s her.

“Yes,” Wally murmurs, eyes half lidded as he leans into her palm. He reaches up, one hand coming to rest on top of hers while the other holds her wrist. “Yes… So much…”

“My good boy.” She smirks as she speaks, her voice flirty and now dripping with lust. (Y/n) pulls her hand away as she stands up, and Wally can’t help but reach out for her as she moves away. He’s desperate to have her back against his skin.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m not leaving,” She bends over, now actually being eye level with him, “get up for me, will you doll?”

Wally nods, scrambling to get himself out of the chair. (Y/n) has to take a step back as he hurries to stand so he doesn’t knock his head against hers. As soon as he’s on his feet, Wally is standing as tall as he can in front of her – something drives him to try and impress her.

“Oh baby, relax,” Her voice is sugar coated as she leans in, beginning to unbutton his cardigan. “There’s no need to be so tense.” She pulls his cardigan off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Part of him hopes it landed on the chair he had been sat on, he didn’t want it to get dirty, yet he also didn’t care.

His shirt came off next, being given the same treatment as his cardigan. Wally ignores the sound of it hitting the floor in favour of reaching up to start undoing his ascot. However, he doesn’t get far before (Y/n)’s hands are on his, pulling them away from his neck.

“Oh no you don’t,” she hums, holding his hands to her chest, cupping them near her collar bones, “that looks so cute on you, I want you to keep it on.”

“Ok…” Wally’s voice comes out as delicate whisper. His hands feel so small in hers, so warm and completely encapsulated.

 “Good boy,” She mumbles, dropping his hands and gripping his hips instead and tugging him forwards. Her hands quickly begin work on the button on his trousers, popping it with one hand and using the other to undo the zip. (Y/n) has his trousers on the floor in seconds.

“Actually…” (Y/n) pauses for a second before reaching up, leaving Wally’s painfully hard and still in his boxers. Her hands come back to his ascot and tug at it, pulling it off. The red silk glistens lightly in the soft glow from the sun, laying in her hands.

“Eyes or hands?” She asks, suddenly making eye contact with Wally. He finds himself unable to answer, only able to stare into the perfection that is (Y/n)’s eyes.

“Wally, I’m only going to ask once more. Eyes or hands?” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, brining him back to reality far to fast for his liking.

“Eyes?” Wally mumbles, hesitating a moment before speaking. He’s unsure of what she means, and despite everything that she’d done in the past, he trusts her.

(Y/n) doesn’t answer, only reaching with the ascot in her hands. He isn’t given a chance to react before the red silk is being wrapped round his eyes, obscuring his vision entirely. Wally finds himself deprived of his favourite sense, the one he treasures more than anything else in the world – it should scare him… and yet it doesn’t.

(Y/n)’s hands are back on his hips within seconds of his eyes being covered, this time tugging at the waist band of his boxers. They’re pulled down to around his mid-thigh, freeing his erection and causing him to gasp in both shock and relief. Wally can feel her hands on his thighs, still holding the fabric of his underwear. Although that doesn’t last long, as she tugs them the rest of the way down, leaving them pooled around his ankles much like his trousers.

“Step forwards baby,” She says, holding his hips and guiding him as he takes a step. He’s now completely nude, exposed to her and unable to see anything. His heart is racing yet he wouldn’t change a single thing about what’s going on.

The smaller puppet lets out a yelp as he feels his feet leave the floor. Although he doesn’t flail or worry, as (Y/n)’s hands on his hips hold him steady. He can feel her shifting, but doesn’t know what’s going on until the underneath of his thighs meet her shoulders. He can feel her hair tickling his inner thighs, the wispy strands painting feather soft patterns into the soft, sensitive flesh.

Suddenly, the flat of her tongue is pressing against the underside of his cock. Its warm and wet and has him bucking his hips upwards blindly. He feels (Y/n)’s hands slide up his back, supporting him and holding him against her. Wally leans back into her warm palms for a moment, relaxing just for a second. It is only a second thought, her tongue is back on him, sliding from the base of the shaft to half way up before pulling away and repeating the pattern.

“(Y/n)…” Wally mumbles. This time, its his turn for his voice to drip with lust thick as honey. He reaches down, fingers fumbling to intertwine themself with her hair. Struggling for a moment, Wally finally gets his hands comfortably in her hair, holding the back of her head for support. He defiantly needs it as (Y/n) pulls away, adjusting her head to slip the tip of his cock into her mouth.

Wally bucks his hips forwards, desperate to feel the warmth of her lips around the base of his cock. He partially expects (Y/n) to pull her head away, to scold him for the action – but she doesn’t. Instead, she pushes her head forwards, taking his entire length in one go. It happens so fast that Wally feels himself hit the back of her throat. (Y/n) doesn’t gag.

The warm wetness of her tongue begins to lap at the underside of his cock once more. It’s a sensation that has Wally letting out moans, sounds that bubble up from his chest and spill past his lip. They’re completely uncontrolled sounds, slipping past his lips in the same way foam bubbles out of a soda bottle.

Wally can already feel himself reaching an end. Something about the way she moved, the way she treated him, was driving him towards an edge much faster than he would like to admit. It doesn’t help that he can’t see, that he’s been deprived of his most vital sense.

“(Y/n)-“ he rasps, gripping her hair and tensing his thighs to squish her head slightly. He feels his stomach muscles tense up, causing him to curl forward, around her head.

The taller puppet only hums in response, starting to bob her head. Deliciously slick sounds fill the room. (Y/n)’s hands pressing into Wally’s back to pull him closer, keeping him in place as her tong laves at his shaft. She doesn’t stop her movements or change her pace, continuing to bob her head slightly and swirl her tongue at the pace she had already set.

“I’m- I’m- (Y/n)- I’m-“ Wally can’t splutter out much more than the first word of the sentence that he’s desperately trying to string together. (Y/n)’s pace is driving his towards an edge that he doesn’t want to fall off of – if he does, this ends. Wally is desperate for it not to end.

His hands don’t move from their spot, finding a perfect purchase scrunched up in her hair, holding the back of his head. His hips, however, begin to falter and buck forwards as if they have a mind of their own. Both his body and mind are senselessly chasing pleasure, but only his body wants to reach the finale. And it does.

Wally tenses up fully as he finally reaches his peak, thighs clenching around (Y/n)’s head. His arms pull in tight, hips pushing forwards as he desperately tries to push himself as far down (Y/n)’s throat as possible. He manages to push until he’s hitting the back of her throat, his tip touching the soft warmth in a way that has his whimpering and pleading for more.

The smaller puppet finally spills himself into her mouth, painting her throat white and filling her mouth with a slightly bitter taste. (Y/n) doesn’t recoil though, instead swirling her tongue around his length and continuing to bob her head to the best of her abilities. Wally feels like she’s trying to pull out everything he’s got.

“A-Ah!” he yelps, the sensation suddenly becoming entirely too much. Wally is whimpering, trying to pull away, wordlessly pleading for her to stop.

Eventually, (Y/n) does, pulling away from him and letting him fall from her saliva coated lips. She keeps Wally sat on her shoulders, looking up at him through thick eyelashes, eyes sparkling with mischief in what little light there is in the room.

“Too much baby?~” She purrs, voice still filled with lust.

Wally can only nod, letting out another pathetic sound as he does.

“Oh, you poor thing… Come here,” She mumbles, shifting his position until he’s got his legs wrapped around her waist. Her tone is so much softer now, as is her touch, as she comes to gently cradle his shaking body against hers. She holds him so easily, her much larger hands supporting under his ass and against his back.

“Would you like a bath darling?” (Y/n)’s voice is right next to his ear as she speaks. It’s accompanied by feather light kisses full of love. Her hands are so warm, radiating outwards and into him in a way that almost has him falling asleep where he is. Wally shakes his head. All he wants now is to curl up and sleep.

“Ok then,” she pauses again to kiss the top of his head, something she can do now thanks to his pompadour falling apart, “What about something to eat? Or drink?” Her questions are so gentle, they don’t really need answers.

Wally shakes his head once again, burying his face in (Y/n)’s neck. Her skin is so soft, he can’t help but relax against her. Although that relaxing is interrupted for a moment when (Y/n) pulls the ascot free from his eyes, discarding it somewhere on the floor. Its most likely piles up with the rest of his discarded clothes.

She continues to hold him tight against her body as she walks. Wally is far too drowsy to pay attention to where they’re going. But he takes not of it - a few short steps and a turn to the left.

Suddenly, (Y/n) is shifting the blue haired puppet. He’s sitting in her lap, partially straddling her thighs with his head resting against her chest. (Y/n) in mostly laying down, hands resting on Wally’s back, providing a pleasing weight.

(Y/n) doesn’t say anything as she begins to stroke Wally’s hair, placing many short kisses on top of his head. He can slowly feel his grip on consciousness loosening. He knows he isn’t going to fall asleep, but he’s not going to be awake anymore.

“I’ve got you, baby,” (Y/n) mumbles. It’s the last thing Wally hears before the world slips away from him.

[mrstsung]

Shang tsung imagine/blurb/hcs:

*note: after some kind words from a mutual. And fellow shang fan. I'm making something to cheer me up and if anyone else feels the same. I'm not gonna let my brain be mean to me. And keep doing what i love*

Cw: i guess maybe warnings of anxiety,mental illness,and or just brain being mean? Either way reader is feeling down. So shang tsung is helping reader cheer up. Angst,hurt comfort? Slightly spicy mention

Reader is technically gn

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚

Imagine:

You weren't feeling so well and you're sitting down by shang's island shoreline. You often come down to the beach to meditate or think. But usually you're accompanied by a guard or by shang,your lover, himself. But this time,you're alone. All with your thoughts,they ate at you. Doubt spilled into your mind as tears fell. Why must your brain hate you?

Shang was worried when he didn't see you come into the bed chambers you both shared. Usually you're not out this late. Let alone,outside the main palace. Perhaps you're at the private teahouse? Shang wondered.

*(To put perspective,i hc shang's main palace keep,where he lives and is the living quarters for him,his lover and his personal guards,warriors and servents. All of the others usually stay in a separate area and smaller buildings near the dock port. The palace gardens lead to a pathway leading down a staircase behind the main keep,where a beachside tea house is,shang uses this teahouse as a personal one. Instead of the ones used by kombatants during tournaments. This teahouse is secluded,quiet,and peaceful. It is a mix between Japanese,and Chinese architecture. The reason being is him and raiden often do business when discussing anything related to tournaments. Despite being rivals and sort of enemies. They are respectful of one another and often discuss things as would any master of the martial arts would or even as an emperor or lords of their respective domains. In short. They aint always barking at each others throats,so to have them in petty squabbles all the time is boring and pointless. Anyways. You often might come to this teahouse to get away so to speak.)*

Shang tsung got on his silk red robe. A garment that was decorated by images of dragons and Phoenixes. Etched in gold and yellow. The flame patterns danced along with shades of deep purple and indigo at its base. A fine clothing fit for a man such as he. Simple black slippers he wore as he stepped out the doors to the bed chambers. Into the garden. He followed the stone path through the gardens,enveloped in moonlight. It danced through the trees. The warm summer air,not too hot surprisingly despite being an island. But there had been rain recently,so it was much cooler,but not by much. There was sweet smells of flowers. Tropical hibiscus,Asian lilies,and little lotuses in the pond all filled the night air. Soft sounds of crickets,frogs and other nighttime summer creatures also sang. As shang tsung made his way to the staircase,he heard soft whimpers from below,at the bottom. He swiftly but carefully descended the stairs. As he got closer. He saw you on a large rock. Weeping. The rock was adjacent to the teahouse. He carefully approached you.

"My dear? What are these tears? Why are you out here by yourself this late in the hour? Is something wrong?"

Shang asked softly but in a concerned manner.

As you struggle to make eye contact. And in a small cracked voiced stated

"I just don't understand why you love me? Why would you choose to spare me? I'm not the best warrior,even with your training. I'm constantly worried,i second guess myself,I'm a mess,im not as beautiful/handsome as some people,im just so...meh,i feel like I'm not worthy of anything even kindness. I just don't get it. Besides you could find better I'm sure,a better person than boring,average me."

You lay your head back down on your crossed arms,over your legs you propped them upon. Still crying.

Shang was taken aback. Where did this come from?! His beloved? Doubtful of his love? Who would dare put those thoughts into your head!? But shang tsung thought about it. Perhaps it is not of another,but of a troubled mind. One filled with the anxieties and stresses and struggles of life itself. He walked over to you,first removing the slippers as not to track sand. Barefoot he walked on the warm sand. When he got to you he placed his hand under your head,lifted your chin with his fingers and spoke with the most earnest,soft,and loving voice.

"My dear sweet y/n. Why did i spare you? Simply because i chose to,i could have killed you,taken your soul,and that would be it. But i didn't. But in that choosing i found one of the most kindest of souls. A soul so genuine and true. And you never once tried to be anything but what you are. Your training has served you well,as you are alive aren't you? *chuckles* obviously the woes of kpmbat has not forsaken you yet? Why? Because you're warrior spirit isn't one of physical prowess. It is not of duty of honor. It is simply love. And love is the most powerful energy of all. Love for life,love for being,and the perseverance of it despite of the world around you. You study hard,love hard,and even play hard. You have the soul of a champion,regardless of frivolous titles given by gods. You are a beautiful soul. Inside and out. You worry of others before yourself,you always put others before you. Even when it's hard to. You stuck at my side,even when You had every right to leave. But here,you remain. I'm obviously doing something right my dear. I know that the dark clouds of your mind get to you,but they too will pass. And that beautiful bright glow from you will shine once again. Even now as i look at your tear soaked face,red,and all full of sorrow."

You couldn't help but giggle at that,he always knew exactly what to say.

Shang continues as he sits beside you,comforting you the best way that he could.

"My darling,i simply adore you,all of you. Even the messy parts as you said. Hell I'm messy myself, *chuckles* I'm a sorcerer of soul magic and dark arts after all. But even a devil such as i can appreciate a flower that blooms in adversity. It is the most beautiful,and the most colorful and bright. And no matter what your mind may tell you,your soul never lies. Just as you have been there for me,i will be there for you. And you are deserving just as much as any other. Even more so as I'm concerned. And you are already worthy. Words fail me to truly encapsulate how my heart feels for you. But what i adore the most is your company,simply put. I admire your presence,your existence is enough. But i prefer it more when you're filled with innocent wonder,joyful laughter,and full of life and love. A hunger for knowledge and a pursuit for purpose. Your strive for perfection isn't the way. What is, my love,is the strive to be better than you were yesterday. But if words are not enough to show you i indeed love you. Than perhaps this would suffice..."

Shang tsung then placed his hand upon your cheek,and kissed you passionately. With all the yearning and intensity that ached in his heart to soothe the storm in yours.

All melted away,no more worry,all doubt ceased. All that was. Was you and him. The sounds of the ocean waves crashing softly,the crickets nearby the paths end. All was calm. Your tears of sorrow turned to tears of joy. How silly you felt for doubting your lover shang,let alone yourself.

Of course he loved you. And he loved you in his own way. As did you.

You both sat and talked a few more hours in the teahouse over some tea. Laughing at old stories,on occasion making flirtatious comments,thus leading into a spicier moment. And you both fell asleep soundly in the teahouse.

By morning you awoke to being wrapped only in shangs silk robe.

He with just his silken pants and hair pulled back. Sat at the opening,doors slid open. The warm summer sun outside,hot but ocean air came through the teahouse so it was cool enough.

You just sat there admiring the view. Of both your lover,and the sea. You went over to sit next to him. And layed you head on his shoulder.

He kissed your forehead. And as you both gazed at the ocean. All of your troubles were gone,you were ready to take on anything the day offered you.

Shang helped make you stand proud and firm in who you are. And for shang? Well you get to see his softer side,not many get that chance. How lucky are you?

🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍

This was highly self indulgent. Sorry if it's longer than what i originally planned. But i got so sucked in as i was writing it.

Again no matter if others also self ship with shang, i know that my self ship is unique. And i gotta remind myself that and not be discouraged by this. And i love writing for him. And even if its very self indulgent.

I shouldn't be afraid to post my work. Even if one person likes it. Even if it gets zero recognition. I created something,and i need to remind myself. This is how i grow. Both as an artist and person. Those that matter don't mind,and those that mind dont matter,so to speak. And im glad that people do like my work. Even if its super self indulgent and specific at times.

Again sorry for rambles. Ugh.

Admin is in the feels ok?

I feel shang would want me to keep creating. And keep doing what i love. Him. Lol.

Anyways. I hope you like this. And i hope that this could cheer you up too if you're ever feeling down about yourself.

It helped me when writing it. <3

With love as always

🐍💚 -mrstsung

Hope y'all have a nice day/night.

[teastainedprose]

In A Crowd of Thousands

He stands straight as a king, expression jovial as he waves to the fervent public chanting his name. The crowd is full of smiling faces. All beaming sunflowers turned towards the sun that is Homelander. The shining beacon of the American spirit. Chosen by God. Vought's golden boy. Everyone beams up at him. Faces full of adoration and cheer.

All except yours. You don't smile. Your expression is cold with dead eyes and gaze level. It makes Homelander recall the first time he'd spotted William in a crowd after all those years. He had the same hardened look. A look that said, I know who you really are.

Inwardly, he scoffs. No one knows the real him.

Idly, Homelander wonders who he killed to earn him such a look from you. He makes certain to meet your eyes as his charismatic smile twists to a smirk. 

You notice. He can see how your chest tightens with the sudden inhale you take, even from his spot on stage. Homelander inclines his head as you step back, melting into that sea of adoring fans.

He blinks, losing track of you in the sea of swimming faces. Another blink and its skeletons with his x-ray vision, but that's more confusing with such a crowd. Homelander shifts, turning his gaze to another section of the crowd as he waves. His smile is fixed in place.

He knows your face and that will have to do for now.

[p4ngilz]

Could you write a connor x daughter of Athena. Where she has been at camp for a year, but they have known each other for about two weeks and he flirts a little too much in training and she thinks he is being mean. but in the end they make up.

★ nice

oh em gee my first req i feel like spongebob on his first day with his shiny lil spatula and squeaky shoes

p.s. so sorry this took so long i was so very sick when you sent it in and then exam week left me bruised and broken and so sleepy 😭

wc: 2.4k words

Who the Hades is this guy? Or more like, who the hell does this guy think he is?

You stared at the hunched-over figure wiping your bronze weapon down with a cloth, whistling as he went. It was too casual for someone like him to be doing something like that, especially with your weapon.

You recognized him as one of those Stoll brothers. They had been at camp for almost as long as you had, yet it seems that he's been popping up and about into your business these past few days. And he had been doing it a lot. Offering to carry your things, greeting you good morning and good night, even going so far as to try and make your bed for you. It was strange. Suspiciously strange. And you didn't trust him. From what you've heard and seen around camp, he was a prankster, an awfully resourceful two-faced troublemaker who could ruin your day with two paperclips and a cup of orange juice.

You thought he was no match for you, though. After all, you were equally crafty and clever as well, if not more than him. You thanked your mother, Athena, for both those skills and the grace to notice the signs this early on.

Gods, what was the purpose of all of this? You couldn't figure him out. You had some ideas, some guesses, but you couldn't pinpoint anything exactly. You needed direct contact with him; you needed to observe him up close so you could finally see his true intentions. Did he get bored and were you his new target? Was he doing this for a bet? Did you do something recently to catch his attention?

So, it was strange. Strange that you two have been skirting around each other for the past few years, not talking unless forced to and if you did, you only exchanged small talk. Why was he now all up in your business? Was he plotting something? You remembered when he put a tarantula in your half-sister Annabeth's bunk. You thought that was the last time you'd see those two boys.

"You look like you're plotting to kill him."

You jumped. Said Annabeth stood behind you, holding a plastic bag full of something you could only guess was your cabin's deposit of trash. Every other morning someone would do this to keep the cabin clean—and every morning Connor would greet you. Today, he added an offer to wipe your weapon down. You reluctantly agreed, vulnerable at 7 in the morning.

You knew you shouldn't be driven by rumors and gossip, shouldn't judge a book by its cover. But your overly paranoid self just refused to try and get to know the boy.

You pursed your lips and turned to Annabeth, sucking in a breath. "What's he like?" You asked.

"A little shit," Annabeth replied, and your heart sank. "But," she continued. "He's a reliable little shit. He's not evil or anything like that. He just has a talent for getting on people's nerves, him and Travis. It's a Hermes kid thing. Why?"

You glanced nervously to the side. "He's been doing the absolute most for me recently. Asking if I need help with anything, greeting me every time we see each other. We're not close. We're not even close to being close."

Annabeth took a few moments looking over at him as well, a small smile on her face. "Hmm. Well, I can't say anything for sure. But there's a very low chance he's doing this out of malice."

You cringed. "So..."

"Just wait and see where this goes," She advised, swinging the plastic bag. "If he hurts you, beat him up." Then she went away.

You scratched your head, starting to walk away from your cabin. That was...sort of helpful? No worries. You could handle this. It wasn't everyday you dealt with someone with the first name Connor and last name Stoll, but it wasn't everyday that you climbed the lava tower, either, no? And you survived that. So how hard could a boy be?

Quite hard, as it turned out to be.

You watched him stand up, stuffing the dirty cloth in his pocket. He then looked around the camp, walking in circles as if searching for someone. You knew he was looking for you, so when he turned in your direction you reluctantly waved a hand, but not enough to be obvious or easily noticed in the bustle of the camp.

When he spotted you, he jogged up to you like an excited dog, haphazardly swinging your weapon. He held it out with calloused hands. "Here!"

"Thanks. Erm, Connor." You added his name for good measure and took your weapon back. You inspected it quickly. No tampering, as far as you could see. It was clean, too. You looked back up at him and nodded. He had done a decent job. An honest, decent job?

"Did you just wake up?" He blurted out, sporting a smile that made you feel...what, self conscious? His words didn't help.

"No, I've been doing errands while waiting for you." You kept your answer plain and simple. "Why?" Without realizing it, you smoothed out your shirt.

He saw where your hands were going and chuckled, his eyes crinkling as if you just cracked a joke that amused him twice as much as the average pun did. "Don't worry, sunshine, you're not the ugliest thing I've seen in my life."

And the he walked away whistling, probably going off to tie someone's shoelaces together to trip them up. What the fuck? You thought, still processing what had just happened. What was that all about? Don't worry, sunshine?

You bet Apollo was laughing at you from Mount Olympus with the way the sunlight was shining right onto your face as Connor walked away, blinding you as you stood there in confusion.

You eyes searched the assortment of campers for Annabeth, some tiny bit of support you could anchor yourself to. She wasn't there. No striking grey eyes of hers among the orange shirts. You grit your teeth, accepting your defeat.

Well, not exactly your defeat. Not yet, at least. Hopefully not.

You gave Connor your best glare as he walked up to you in the middle of the arena. He swung his sword in his hand back and forth as if this was a game to him. Luckily for you, you also saw it as a game. A fun game to try and get to learn a thing or two about him. You wanted to observe him, close up? Here was your chance.

Sword practice. Sparring. Percy as the instructor overseeing the match. Perfect.

"Shake hands, guys," He said, standing between you and Connor. He then nodded at the boy. "No cheating, alright? No extra tricks."

"Yeah, yeah," He said, tapping his foot. You saw how he seemed almost giddy, but when he met your eyes, his smile melted and he cleared his throat.

You held a hand out. He shook it, not taking his eyes off you. He had a serious expression on, devoid of all humor or teases. "Nice shirt," he mumbled. And then he was off, stepping backwards until he was a reasonable distance away from you.

Shaking the confusion out of your head, you got into position, holding your weapon as you adjusted your stance.

Percy gave the signal and you two were off, celestial bronze clashing against one another. Your ears rung and you tried to not let the sun blind you.

Frustratingly enough, you couldn't observe much except for his physical traits (a light spray of freckles across his nose bridge, a nasty looking scar on his knee and a bruise on the other one, a hand with only one fingernail painted cherry red; unsurprisingly enough for a son of Hermes, he seemed to be ambidextrous) and that he was awfully talkative.

"I might have trouble focusing, but I'm multitasking right now, see? Your face is distracting, but I can handle it." "You're nice to look at when you're cornered like this, you know? Cute and mad, I should piss you off more!" "I really like your lack of enthusiasm all the time!"

Parry. Strike. Slash. Clang! The tip of his sword grazed your jaw and you swiped at his shins. Contrary to his blabber, you stayed silent except for grunts and the like, determined to finish him off.

Someone in the audience of campers yelled for Connor to focus. Instead he laughed. Soon you ended up with your weapons pressed against each other, screeching as the material of each grinded against one another. You were face to face with him now.

"You seem a little rusty, maybe you should consider practicing with me—"

That was your last straw. You pushed him back, so hard that you ended a few feet away from him, and charged, but at the last second swung to disarm him from his waiting sword instead of striking. With your momentum, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pushing his head upward, and stepped behind him, holding your weapon to his throat.

Victory.

"You know, I'd say something, but I don't think it's very audience friendly, I think it should be reserved for someplace without overbearing coordinators or nine year olds," He giggled.

You released him after Percy gave you the signal. Of course, you had to be somewhat polite. So you maneuvered his body so he was facing you, standing properly now. You took his clammy hand and shook it, looking him straight in the eye.

"Good duel," You said, nodding, chest still rising and falling from the intense practice match.

"Yeah, yeah, good duel," Connor replied, stumbling over his words. "Percy didn't...didn't have any comments for us, y-yeah, that's...that's good, right?"

You nodded again, and he let go of your hand, swallowing and glancing at the floor. He wet his lips, as if there was something he was itching to say, something stuck in his throat.

"You...you have nice eyes." He walked away with something you might have called a scurry.

Tilting your head in utter confusion, you heard a voice and felt a hand tap your shoulder. You turned around to see a little girl of about 12 years old. Strands of her dark hair stuck to her chubby cheeks from sweat. "Return the compliment. That's pamahiin, you know." She shot a cautious glance at Connor's turned back.

"It's what?"

"Superstition where someone curses you in the form of a compliment. He's been saying all kinds of things since the start of your match!"

"That doesn't sound like a Greek superstition to me. Where'd you hear that?" The girl left before you could finish. You shook your head. Silly kids.

You decided you had some business to attend to, so you jogged after Connor, following him down the path to the archery range.

"Hey," you called. "Connor!"

He slowly turned around, looking anxious. "...Yes?"

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You're being strange. You kept talking during sword practice—you never do it that much, and you keep offering to do things for me. Are you following me around? Why did you compliment my shirt out of the blue right before we started?"

His brain seemed to load. And then he smiled. "You watch me during sword practice?"

"Sometimes, when there's nothing else to watch. The point is, you're acting off!"

He cleared his throat. "Well, erm, you know, I've just been seeing you around and I wanted to get to know you more. Wait, I complimented your shirt? We're all wearing the same ones."

You stepped closer. "No, are you up to something? Trying to get under my skin? Everything you say is somewhat backhanded and it feels like you're planning to get me in trouble, or both of us in trouble. If you don't like me, just say it straight to my face." You clenched your fists as you finished.

His expression morphed and looked horrified. "Oh, my Gods. No, I'm sorry."

You stared hard, waiting for him to explain himself.

"Shit, Y/N. That, uh...that wasn't...oh man, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I mean, I am mouthy all the time, but I didn't want you to think of it like that! I do, I'm complimenting you, I guess we just don't match up in terms of what's a 'nice' gesture or not.

"I'll say it straight, then. I'm being nice to you, trying to say nice things. Because I think you're nice."

You raised a brow. "...Nice?"

"Yes, nice. And I really liked practicing with you. And greeting you in the morning and at night. And you. I like being nice to you even if you don't understand my little pickup lines sometimes."

"So you weren't trying to be mean?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Ah...okay. I see. That's...fair. I guess I was just paranoid." You slowly nodded, understanding his defense. You could see him nervously putting his thumbs through his belt loops.

"Mhm." He looked to the side. "Oh, and by the way, maybe the thing I said this morning was confusing, you're not ugly at all, I think you—everything about you, is very, pleasing to the eye."

You chuckled. "—Is nice."

He let out a relieved laugh at how you had caught on. "Yes, exactly that. Oh," He perked up, looking behind your shoulder. When you followed his gaze you saw some campers walking towards him, and they did not look very happy. He put his sword back into his scabbard and tied his shoelaces, which had come undone.

So he was a prankster. Obviously. But he wasn't as bad as you thought. Not mean, just a little mischievous at times. You definitely were just paranoid. It's not everyday you got that many compliments. Puzzling ones that needed comprehension, yet still compliments. And he was easy to talk to. Not mean at all. Come to think of it, you hadn't fallen victim to his or Travis's pranks lately, not in a long while—

"That's my cue," he reached over and awkwardly patted your shoulder, averting your gaze. Despite that, he was smiling ear-to-ear. "See you sometime, okay? Bye!"

"Bye...!" And he dashed away, leaving you beaming in amusement. Wait, pickup lines? Those were pickup lines to him?

Nice? Nice as in flirting?

[katkalis-the-fanartist]

"Come now my dear, sweet little snowflake, you MUST have a favorite!"

You shake your head in response. "Noooo, I told you many times that I love you both EQUALLY."

"Admit it, you like him more because he doesn't burn your stuff-"

You huff. These numbskulls never give this topic a break. One of them HAS to be better than the other in some way. But you were going to make sure to win this argument every time.

"No, I love both of you the same, no matter your powers. I don't care if you've burned a few of my things, Heat," You turn to the corresponding brother of red, who relaxes his gaze as he stops to give you his complete attention, "No matter how many things you've singed."

Mr. Snow gives your shoulder a few light taps on your shoulder, "Who was it that said they prefer their room chilly? Know who helps you with that~?"

You smirk back at him, "And what is a cool room without the warmth you get to snuggle into to make it all perfect, huh?"

Heat Miser smiles rather bashfully while Snow Miser straightens his lips and sighs.

"Face it, both of you. When I have you both, I'm a perfect, comfortable 50 degrees! I love my boys equally and prefer to have you both at my side!"

They both smile wide while you do, and although they exchange quick glances of unsureness to one another for a brief moment, they still return to focusing on that perfect smile of yours.

[kurominiiiz]

Apologies for the lack of posts, but I was writing a fic! I told you guys I'd make it, so I did!!

Go read it! I'll write it on AO3 later

[quinloki]

I have no title for this story...

I've had an idea for a modern AU story for a while, and while I had a "moment" I was building up around, I didn't have enough details to really get it rolling.

It's taken up residence in my brain the last few days, and now I have 12 chapters of outline for it.

First Off - Thanks be to @wttcsms for this post and thus the idea I built up from. I can see it working well for so many characters - Sir Crocodile for one, but what really struck me was that idea for Sabo.

Specifically - Sabo as part of a trio of up-and-coming Super Star Models - the ASL boys have taken the world by STORM \o/ Of course our adorable reader is a fan, but, well - if you're curious

I'm putting the "outline" I have under the cut.

Each set of brackets is a chapter. So in this way you'll get to see what I'm working on (and what may or may not change, since I have a tendency to jump ship with my outlines >.> ), and also the extent of how well I outline ^^;

[celebrating getting hired by the company you were hoping for by having some drinks at your favorite bar. You’re approached by a brunette who strikes up a conversation with you. The two of you end up arguing about the ASL brothers, and he suggest maybe you could fuck out you’re differences - when you tell him you’re married, flashing your false ring.]

[There is no way this is happening, the shit at the bar is The Scarred Prince?! You are a big fan of the ASL brothers, and had spent the majority of last night arguing with the Scarred Prince on his behalf. You’re mortified and angry.]

[Sabo is delighted to be able to “assist” you in every which possible way.]

[you’re tasked with helping Sabo - he needs more hand prints on his body for a photo shoot (this flusters you both terribly) - and Sabo still thinks you’re married!] (thank you @kazieai for this idea)

[You lost your wedding ring.]

[Sabo gets you to admit your lie, and in exchange for lying to him, he wants to take you out on a date. “I won’t force you, but I think it’s the least you, as my greatest fan, could do to ease my tender heart.”]

[Sabo’s in disguise for the date, and keeps it lowkey. You have a really good time and almost kiss at the end of it]

[ Sabo thinks you don’t like him that way, and you think he doesn’t like you that way. He isn’t sure how to broach the subject, because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at work, and you figure your debt’s been paid and you don’t have a right to the prince’s time anymore.]

[You and Sabo are both at the office late, bumping into each other accidentally. The awkward energy is broken quickly and the air cleared. After agreeing to a second date, Sabo offers to walk you to your car. On the way there a black van pulls up and snatches you both.] (I really dislike miscommunications, and as you can see, I don't let them linger for long).

[Sabo puts up an incredible fight, actually gets you tossed out of the van. The kidnappers stop the van and point a gun at you. Don’t run girl, and Sabo better stop fighting. They get him gagged, bound and blind folded, and you learn Sabo is a legitimate, actual prince.] (Ah, just gonna pause here for a moment and appreciate Captured Sabo <3 )

[Getting off the island is tricky, the kidnappers are waiting in a safe house type location. They keep promising him that as long as he behaves, they’ll let you go, but one of the kidnappers is already overtly and uncomfortably interested in you.] ( >.> the question here will be how intense things get).

[Rescued! Sabo breaks free and beats the shit out of the guy who was creeping up on you. He’s injured and drugged, you’re pretty sure they’ve been keeping him doped, but when a rush of teal and gold flames flames fill the room he relaxes, practically collapsing into you. (Thatch has the fire fire fruit in this AU)]

And that's it - 12 chapters worth of outline. Really really often an entire sentence easily becomes One Chapter all on its own, so this could easily be closer to 18-20 chapters worth of notes. Especially if I decide to try and fit more modeling shenanigans in there >.>

[seoafin]

you and nagi meet in middle school. he is a loner with a penchant for playing videos games and sleeping during class. you are a high maintenance individual with dismal grades known for your dour disposition and carrying around the violin you practice obsessively. the two of you have no friends. your middle school has designated and granted you a music room to use where you can practice in peace for your upcoming competitions. until one day you find nagi curled up in a corner of the room, asleep. obviously you're peeved. this music room is for your use only, not some secret hideout slackers can use to catch up on sleep. but also it's not like he's being a disturbance. you'll let him off. just this once. then you'll start to lock the doors.

it's not until the sky is pitch dark outside and your fingers twinge with use do you begin to gingerly pack your violin. you get so absorbed in playing you wouldn't be surprised if the slacker got up and left hours ago. you are surprised when you turn around to find nagi spread out on the floor, gaze latched to the ceiling, wide awake. in a drowsy voice, he tells you that that single song you were playing over and over again sounded like the OST of some game he likes. (you are immediately offended. the great composer bach didn't die to be compared to some video game soundtrack). then he asks if you're in this room everyday, practicing, because he can't comprehend that level of effort and devotion to anything because he isn't that interested in anything. but he liked it. the sound of you playing. you were good. the best he's ever heard. and all you can hear is the best the best the best and you're so pleased that you don't mind when he comes back the next day. and then the next. then the two of you are walking to school together and walking home. (wow the two of you were neighbors?) and when you get into the prodigious hakuho academy on a violin scholarship, nagi tests in with ease because he didn't bother to do any research and just chose the rigorous high school you got into.

it's good for a while. then it isn't. there's a violin competition gone wrong. you lose. badly. second place, which realistically isn't bad. but you wanted first. you wanted to be the best. realistically you've always known you weren't a genius. you weren't born with the talent. your fingers were fumbling over the same strings other fingers were gliding over. but you practiced. every single day. hours every morning before school and hours every night after. it's the first time you've ever competed against a genius, and you're heartbroken at the gap between your skills. your competitor took up the violin only four years ago. you've been playing since you were a child. the news outlets call him a prodigy while you're just a temporary talent.

nagi tells you to give up. realistically, he says, you'll never be first as long as long as you're up against a genius. what he doesn't tell you is that the devastation on your face made his heart hurt. he doesn't want you to hurt. but your heart breaks all over again. you lash out. it's the last time the two of you speak together on friendly terms and nagi doesn't talk to you again. turns out, there's somebody else occupying and monopolizing his attention now.

you meet mikage reo and it all goes even further downhill from there.

[burntuakrisp]

I feel like Frank might be the first to notice something going on with Wally. He stands out with the frown and might be the more sensible out of the neighborhood.

Like he notices Wally seems to be hiding something and tries to figure it out. He goes into Home and sees Wally not there.

But what he finds are what can be described as insane ramblings and paintings. A mess of paint with writings of “lies” “neighborhood” “I see it” “forgotten” and “eyes”. So many paintings of the apples, eyes, and a crude painting of Home, the neighborhood, and his friends.

Frank is horrified seeing this, as he had no idea this was going through Wally’s head. Frank suddenly feels a sense of danger as Home begins to make noises. Frank runs for the exit, but Wally is there and stands in the door.

“You know too much, that wasn’t very neighborly of you.”

Frank sees Wally glare at him, with a frown.

[gay4elliew]

my roman empire is tess almost being the main antagonist in tlou1.