#the areas you can explore are too few and really small

[officialboredom]

Ok, one thing that really kills me with Persona 3 Reload is how they handle what you can do at each time of day. Like, someone saying they actually can't hang right after starting the hang out, or worse, a prayer at the shrine taking all afternoon??? Huh??

Or how you can either do something in the evening, OR go to Tartarus, despite the fact that you would do the latter in an extra hour in the day that few people have access to. What are you doing waiting for the Dark Hour? Sleeping? Jacking off???

[chocopudim]

can touch you?

mr. crawling x fem ! reader, she / her pronouns, blissful love life ending, smut (masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Lately, the monster had been found constantly getting absorbed by the TV, so the human decided to spend some alone time distressing herself. She closed the bedroom door quietly, making sure Mr. Crawling wasn't nearby. Then, walked to their bed, taking small steps not to indicate where she could be.

However, the wooden floor was somewhat old, the bed was a little rusty, and Mr. Crawling seemed to have a sixth sense, telling him about all her possible locations.

She removed her clothes and carefully laid down on their bed, closing her eyes as she took a few deep breaths, trying to focus and not think too much about the possibility of Mr. Crawling suddenly walking in. She had closed the door already, there was no way the monster would appear by her side, right?

The human relaxed her body and moved her hand to her chest, circling her skin with one of her fingertips. Her heart was beating fast, still afraid of getting caught by her ghostly roommate.

She moved the other hand between her thighs, gently massaging the area. A small moan escaped her lips. She didn't care though, surely that wouldn't be enough for Mr. Crawling to hear-

_ You hurt? You pain?

She quickly stopped whatever she was doing and directed her sight to the tall man sitting next to her, worry in his voice. The woman loved him dearly but hated how silent and willing he was to follow her everywhere, even when it wasn't needed.

_ M-Me... Huh... - The blood quickly ran to her cheeks as she searched for ways to explain herself. How could one even start to do that while looking at him? Wait, why was he even here and how much did he see?! Didn't she close the door?

_ You okay?

_ Me o-okay...

_ You need help?

_ H-Help?! - The human gasped, shocked.

_ Help. Me want help. - From Mr. Crawling's perspective, the human had probably injured herself while he wasn't looking and she was now moaning in agony. He also thought she looked somewhat cute while lying down like that, but he couldn't exactly understand why.

_ Oh! - She gasped again, finally realizing the monster thought she was hurt and wanted to help with that instead, - Me not need help. Me fine.

_ You fine? Why touch body?

Damn, Mr. Crawling wasn't subtle at all, was he? He must have felt she was trying to hide something. Now, how does one explain what they were doing to him, a monster that doesn't ever need to think about pleasuring himself?

_ T-Touch body make me... V-Very happy.

Happy? Was 'happy' really the right word for that?

_ Touch body make you very happy?

_ Y-Yes... - Deep down, she was praying Mr. Crawling would get the memo and walk away. That interaction couldn't get any more awkward.

_ Why? - Mr. Crawling asked curiously. He was trying to understand his human better and didn't notice how evasive his questions were coming across or how intimate that situation was.

_ Touch... Good. - She tried explaining in the best way she could, but it was hard since their vocabulary seemed to be so limited. The embarrassment also didn't help much. All she wanted to do was to disappear at that exact moment.

_ You like touch body?

_ M-Maybe...

_ You want me touch body?

_ W-What?! - The human exclaimed under her breath.

_ Me want make you very happy. Me want help. Me can touch you?

Was that really happening?

_ T-Touch me? You want touch me?

_ Yes. Can touch you?

Her heartbeats increased and she grew even more flustered. She could feel her heart echoing inside her head as the adrenaline rushed in. And so did Mr. Crawling.

The monster quietly stared at her, patiently waiting for an answer. He was used to touching his human, but not like that... The idea of it was quite alluring to him and he was tempted to explore those new emotions a little bit more.

_ Y-Yes. - The woman panicked after realizing her words. Did she really agree with that? It's not like she didn't want to. But just because they could, should they?

Mr. Crawling smiled, excited to make his human happy. Gently, he grasped one of her breasts, giving it a soft squeeze. His icy cold hands made the human shiver, but it was nice feeling it against her burning body.

_ Cute. - He said, seeming to enjoy how her chest felt, - You like my touch?

_ Y-Y-Yes!

_ Can teach me?

Perhaps, Mr. Crawling wanted to be guided...?

_ You play... - The woman said still feeling awkward about it, but not against it. She placed her hand on top of his and slowly guided him, showing him how to squeeze, pinch, tease... - W-Want consume?

_ Consume?

_ N-Not consume... Use mouth.

For a moment, Mr. Crawling stopped touching her and just analyzed her body language, trying to understand what his human could be trying to say. Then, he smiled as if he had finally figured it out. He placed his mouth, carefully on top of her chest. Then, he opened it, biting the flesh ever so softly. The human moaned again, feeling his tongue play with her nipple.

While Mr. Crawling was busy "consuming", she moved one of her hands between her tights for the second time, slowly massaging it. Mr. Crawling noticed her legs were moving a little bit more than before and looked down, removing his mouth from her chest.

_ Me consume legs?

_ Huh? - Before she could form a proper sentence, Mr. Crawling placed himself between her legs, fascinated by how interesting the human body could be. There were so many things he didn't know about... He touched her pussy with one of his fingers, making the woman shiver again due to how sudden it was.

_ Me touch? Me consume?

_ Y-You want touch? Want c-c-consume?

_ Yes. - He smiled, the same way he usually did, before inserting one of his long fingers inside of it. The woman gasped, biting her bottom lip to not moan too loudly, - You like touch? - He asked, slowly moving his finger in and out. He didn't know what he was doing but enjoyed observing her reactions. The monster just wanted to play with her and would continue entertaining her as long as she enjoyed it.

He liked how her face moved with every touch, the small sounds she made, the way her chest bounced, how soft and warm her skin was, the way her back slightly arched, and how she would move her hips... Mr. Crawling couldn't explain why, but he was fascinated by all of it.

_ Why wet? - Mr. Crawling asked again, circling her labia with his fingertips.

_ T-Touch good...

Then, a sudden question popped up in his head. What did his human taste like? Mr. Crawling asked himself as he removed his hand from her.

He planned to use his mouth from now on.

Noticing what he was about to do, she held his silk-black hair in her hands, slightly pulling it. Wanting to return the touch, Mr. Crawling squeezed her breast between his fingers.

The human felt a slight sense of anxiety while feeling his hot breath against her skin. Then, his mouth evolved it. The human shivered at how cold his lips felt in comparison to his tongue.

The monster slowly circled his tongue around her labia, before starting to move it up and down, enjoying how her back would arche differently.

It took him a few minutes, but he eventually found the clitoris. Realizing how much more sensitive she would get every time he touched that area, he started teasing it, licking it slowly at first.

The woman's hips eventually started moving faster and faster, and Mr. Crawling tried keeping up with her. The more she moaned, the deeper Mr. Crawling tried to go.

As her legs started shaking, she instinctively pulled his face against her pussy, letting out a loud moan. Mr. Crawling held her tights, squeezing them against his face. How could someone feel so warm and soft? He also really enjoyed the taste.

Mr. Crawling pulled away from her after noticing her lack of movement. Watching the way her body slowly grew relaxed as something else grew on him...

_ Me make you happy?

_ You make me happy... Me thankful. - She replied with a small smile plastered on her face, trying to catch her breath.

_ You like me touch body? Me good?

_ Yes. - The woman laughed lightly at his silly questions. - You good. You very good. Me like you. A lot.

_ Me glad. - Mr. Crawling smiled widely. One could tell he was feeling pretty happy and even proud about it, - You good. Me like you.

_ You fine...? - She asked slightly worried, wanting to make sure Mr. Crawling was okay with what had just happened between them, - You like touch body?

_ Yes. Me like body. You cute. - The monster answered sweetly, jumping on top of her for a hug, - You fine?

_ Me fine.

The two of them closed their eyes as they hugged, simply enjoying that small intimate moment... But suddenly, Mr. Crawling broke the silence, looking completely serious.

_ Not let others touch you. Me can touch you.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Wolf and the Rabbit

Male Alpha Wolf Hybrid Tsundere x Male Omega Bunny Hybrid Reader CW: Mildly dubious consent (Not the sex but other actions), consensual sex, knotting, being chased, pheromones, a/b/o, biting, scent marking, scent kink, underarm kink, huffing underwear, masturbation Word Count: 2k (This was written at the request of a good friend who wished to remain anon, I hope you all enjoy it. If you REALLY love it feel free to tip me at the link in my pinned post or even commission me.)

City life had gotten unbearable. The constant bills and dead-end job. The hustle and bustle of the environment. Traffic and construction. It had all just become far too much. It was suffocating and oppressive. You clearly needed a change.

And what better place for a bunny hybrid like you to live than in a nice forest. You saved up your money and sold many of your possessions to buy a nice burrow under a great oak tree.

It was everything you had hoped for. The burrow was the size of a small house. A bedroom, bathroom, living room, and small kitchen. Outside, there were plenty of wooded areas for you to forage, and clear spots near the burrow entrance allowed you to grow crops. Lettuce and carrots were a must.

One sunny day, after you had finished unpacking the last of your boxes, you decided you should explore the edges of your property. You hummed to yourself as you went along, putting any food you found in a basket. You had amassed a sizable amount of dandelion greens.

Suddenly, your ears perked up, and your nose wiggled. Something was off... you felt like you were in mortal peril...

You heard a snarl and bolted. You could hear footsteps giving chase behind you, but you didn't dare look. In no time, your pursuer caught up to you and pushed you to the forest floor. You tried to crawl away, but he flipped you over on your back, giving you a view of him for the first time.

A growling wolf man.

He leered down at you with cold eyes of steel, the blue-grey fur on his ears and tail bristling. He was much larger than you were, fairly chubby but also very muscular. His scent was that of an alpha.

“Think you can just wander into my territory and get away from me, creampuff!? No, I gotta teach you a lesson!”

Tears streamed from your eyes as you stared at his bared fangs. You were sure he had gone feral and was going to rip you to shreds. You futilely stammered out some pleas and protests. He rolled his eyes and pinned you down, putting you into a bit of a chokehold as he rubbed your head into his underarm. He continued this until you thoroughly reeked of his scent and then got off of you with a grunt and left.

“There, now you know my scent, I’m Lupin, and this is my territory, don’t come near it again!”

“I-I’m…” You muttered your name to him as he walked away, though you didn’t know why you bothered.

He hadn’t been trying to do anything sexual to you. You were an omega, but he told himself that he wasn’t interested. He was above all that and valued his solitude above all else. But as he left, he had to conceal a massive boner. That night thoughts of hunting you down and marking you all over with his smell haunted him. He had no choice but to masturbate to the thought.

The incident had a similar effect on you. You started producing quite a bit of slick. Once he had shown he had no interest in harming you, his scent became erotically stimulating, and it clung to you heavily. Of course you knew that it was not a sexually charged act and that he had only marked you because you had violated his property, but you couldn’t help jerking your cock and slipping your fingers into your slick lubed hole while thinking of him hunting, marking, and fucking you.

You just couldn’t stay away. You did for a few days, but you couldn’t resist your fantasies. So inevitably, you found yourself “accidentally” out of the bounds of your property line.

It didn’t take long for Lupin to descend upon you. He hadn’t been far, and he could detect your omega pheromones easily. It surely wasn’t because he had been brooding near the shared border of your properties in hopes that you would come by again.

You zipped away, and once more, he gave chase. This time, you knew who was there and didn’t have the same type of fear and were much more clear-headed. Your evasive skills were better as a result. The both of you enjoyed the hunt immensely. The thrill of catching and dominating you spurred him on while the rush of resistance and submission drove you.

This time, when he caught you, he made a big show of acting frustrated and annoyed at the very notion that you would dare to invade his space a SECOND time. Clearly, he had not properly put you in your place.

Feeling a bit more resistant than you did during the first encounter, you just huffed and turned away from him.

“Stubborn fucker.”

Then he did the same as he had done the first time but finished by removing his shirt and scenting it by rubbing it all over his sweaty body before forcing you to wear it. It was far too large and looked rather comical on you and steeped you in his scent even more thoroughly than you already had been.

You blushed and looked away, trying to seem undaunted as he pointed and laughed at the sight while trying not to make it apparent that seeing you in his clothing while wearing his scent wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever encountered.

He quickly left, leaving you to deal with the growing pool of slick that was soaking your pants. The wolf-man only waited until he was out of sight before he whipped out his cock and started fervently jerking off. Similarly, you didn’t make it home either before you had to pleasure yourself.

It quickly became a favorite game for both of you. You'd enter his domain and act like it wasn't on purpose, and he'd chase you away and act super annoyed when he finally caught and marked you. You'd hurl insults at him and tell him he stank, and he'd call you an idiot with no common sense.

And when the other was out of sight, you'd each fervently tend to your arousal.

Though one time when you went seeking to get scent marked, he was curiously absent. He had gone to a little marketplace where all the nearby forest dwellers gathered to trade and purchase wares. No one had told you about it yet. Lupin had a stall where he peddled foraged items and wood carvings he made.

As you ventured deeper and deeper into his land, you made sure to make a lot of noise, even resorting to straight-up shouting insults. You were about to give up and turn back when you stumbled upon his house.

It didn't appear that anyone was home, though, so you were still going to leave... right after you walked around outside a bit so he would know you had been there. Just to annoy him.

While you walked around a bit, you noticed a captivating smell. His smell. Though not very fresh, it still made you leak a bit of slick. It was wafting from an open window. You knew you should have just ignored it and that what you were doing was a massive violation, but like a moth to a flame, you climbed right in anyway.

Your sensitive nose found the source of his scent immediately, a dirty close hamper with some recently worn boxers on top. So you did what any omega bunny close to heat would do... you grabbed his boxers and put the crotch to your nose and inhaled deeply before shedding your clothes and wiggling into his warm covers.

They smelled of him too.

You continued to huff his under garment as you began to wank your cock desperately, his scent sending you fully into heat a bit earlier than expected. You alternated between slipping fingers into your naturally lubed hole and playing with your cock, but nothing satisfied you.

The self pleasure session must have lasted over an hour by the time it was interrupted by Lupin opening his room to the sight of you entirely debauched, your cum on your belly, slick pooling on his sheets, and his underwear in your hand. You stopped immediately when he entered and stated at him wide-eyed in an expression of fear mingled with surprise.

After a long silence, the wolf man finally spoke up, "What the fuck do you think you're doing you gross little weirdo!??"

The room was filled with the smell of your lust charged omega pheromones, he feigned a look of abhorrence while hoping his rapidly hardening cock didn't make a noticeable bulge in his pants.

You were blushing with embarrassment and a bit out of it due to your heat, but you managed to collect yourself.

"I was coming over to bug your grumpy ass when I went into heat... and well... even your disgusting smell will do when I'm desperate..."

The two of you traded insults, and he got slowly closer as the two of you did so.

"Your musk is really inadeq-"

He stuffed your face in his armpit before pulling away and getting into the bed with you. Your mind was fuzzy as your heat and a direct dose of his alpha pheromones claimed your senses.

"I don't... want your smelly dick in me... but it'll help my heat, so..."

You turned away, blushing even more deeply than previously as you spread your legs for him.

"Well, I don't want to either... but whatever gets you to stop being so needy and out of my bed..."

Your hole was so lubed and well prepped by your own fingers that he slid in every inch of his thick cock into you effortlessly. You shuddered as he entered you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he nibbled at your neck while he fucked you.

"Heh, such a needy slut. You take me pretty well, though."

You scoffed half-heartedly at the comment.

Lupin flung your legs over his shoulders and forced you into a mating press before pounding into you in earnest. You, at least in the moment, abandon all pretense of not wanting it. As does he.

A loud moan escapes you as you cum hard, he isn't far behind and instinctively bites your neck as he knots you. The two of you lay panting a moment before he started grinding his knot back and forth within you. You went several more rounds, until you both were sore and barely conscious. The two of you found yourselves passed out within one another’s embrace.

You both awoke the net morning roughly at the same time. Each of you hardening your expression when you remembered you’re supposed to hate each other.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I let you put that gross knot in me!”

Hey! Don’t act like the victim here you fucking freak, you came into my house and got your slick and pheromones everywhere! It clouded my brain. Fuck look at the mess you made!”

You scrambled out of the covers to get your clothes on as he did the same before hopping out of the bed, your little cotton tail wagging in annoyance.

“Well what the fuck ever, I have to go!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let the door hit you on your way out…”

You made for the door as he asked under his breath, “Same time next month…?”

You had already shut the door behind you by the time you had registered what he had asked. You opened the door briefly to give your response.

“Yes please.”

You then slammed the door, feigning anger, and headed home for a much needed shower. You blushed and grinned like an idiot the entire way back.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #50 - Roundie]

"When Jungkook accidentally gives himself a bowl cut."

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff

Warnings: just Kookie being the cutest and roundest, she teases him for messing up his haircut, and he playfully bites her cheek for it, they're so in love, snuggles and kisses hihi

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: i don't have to mention what i was inspired by LIKE he is so cute you have no idea i love him so much it's actually insane :( this is also something that ogc!googie would do so i wanted to be self-indulgent and write it ihihiih <3 have fun besties 🧡

“No!” 

You heard your husband exclaim this one small word around twenty minutes ago and haven't heard a word from him since. Only the blow dryer, which has been running the last few minutes, can be heard.

You and Jungkook are on a romantic holiday in Japan because the land is especially nice this time around to explore by motorbike. You are currently staying in an Airbnb somewhere in the Japanese mountains. The architecture and furniture is traditional with a hint of modern and the house offers a small private spa area. You and Jungkook have already enjoyed it earlier today, but decided to call it quits for now. You currently find yourself on the sofa in your pyjamas, relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea, while your husband locked himself up in the bathroom. 

Except for his very enthusiastic and shocked “No!” you haven’t heard from him. That changes however right this instant when the blow dryer stops and the door unlocks. 

“Baby?” 

“Yes, Kook?”

You can’t see him yet, talking louder to make up for the distance. Judging from his voice coming closer, he is walking to you. 

“So, remember how I told you that my hair is getting too long?” 

You set down your book.

“What did you do?” 

“Okay so, hah, funny story. So okay, you know how we met when we were both nineteen, yeah?” 

“Yes?” 

“Okay cool and I looked really sexy and handsome and mature?” 

“Thinking back, you still looked very boyish back then, but I guess yeah you did. Why? What did you do?” 

“Did you ever wonder what I looked like when I was fifteen?” 

“Jeon Jungkook stop the riddles, what did you do?”

He crosses the corner, appearing in your vision. You instantly crack up, coughing out laughter and pointing your finger at him. He gave himself the roundest and cutest bowl cut ever, looking like a teen with it. 

“What did you do? Baby, oh my god”, you laugh loudly.

“I cut the bangs too short. I tried to save them by cutting the sides, but then I had to match the back too and I gave myself a bowl cut.”

“You look so adorable, I can’t believe it”, you say, stumbling to your feet so you can run to him and touch his hair, “you have the roundest head ever. You’re basically a circle.”

“I’m not a circle. Baby”, he whines and pouts.

You snicker, fluffing up his sides. They instantly fall back into their natural bowl cut state.

“I can’t believe it, you turned yourself into a boba ball. God, look at you. It’s like you aged backwards.”

“It’s the same stupid hairstyle I had in middle school. Baby, please tell me I’m handsome, I’m a sad doofus right now.”

“You’re the most handsome circle ever.”

He nudges you gently, furrowing his brows.

“Shut up, you’re not helping.”

You cackle, now fumbling with his bangs. 

“Of course you’re handsome, my sweetie. I’ve never seen you with your hair like this before, I love it a lot”, you say and tug on his bangs softly. They instantly bounce back into their bowl cut state, reflecting the lights from just how shiny and round his hair is. You snicker, “god it’s so cute. You’re adorable.”

“I'm neither cute nor adorable. I’m manly and sexy. Urgh, I ruined myself.” He whines and drops his head on your Shoulder. “I'll accept it if you divorce me now.”

“Divorce-ha!” You laugh loudly, giving his butt a playful spank, “you dramatic baby, you. I already told you that I love it. You’re very handsome and of course, very manly and sexy.”

He lifts his head, giving you a small grin. 

“But…also very cute and adorable.”

He furrows his brows, opening his mouth.

You instantly silence him, “which is a good thing because it means I wanna cuddle you even more often.”

“Wait. This is a good thing”, he says, making you chuckle.

“It is. Gosh you, let me take a picture. You’re so adorable.” 

“If you must.”

Despite his initial complaints, Jungkook ends up posing with pouted lips and his hand throwing up a peace sign. It’s his signature pose he does in pictures and he looks very adorable tonight. You giggle at the picture, putting it as your lock screen. You show it to him.

“Look, now when someone asks me about you, I can tell them I’m married to a roundie.” 

“You”, Jungkook points his finger at you. “Stop it.” 

You cackle. 

His features soften, a warm smile washes over his face. He gives up with a fond scoff and a little chuckle, closing the distance by grabbing your waist and pulling you snug against him. You and he sway from side to side, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. You have your arms hooked behind his head.

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute, otherwise I would have to bite your cheeks for your annoying antics”, he says.

“Mhm bite my cheeks you say? Ohoho mister what a thread, especially coming from a life sized choco ball such as yourself.”

“Yah”, he complains and gives your buttocks a squeeze. 

“Sorry, sorry last one I promise. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, you snicker, rubbing his neck in apology. 

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing his hands over your buttocks innocently. 

“It’s insane how good it fits you. Up close, you can really tell that you fucked it up, but it looks so good on you that it’s not even bad that you fucked it up.” 

“Is it really bad?”

“No, not at all. Your bangs are a little choppy, but it’s cute. Very handsome. Gosh”, you squish his cheeks, “your eyes look even prettier with this hair. It’s like they’re supporting each other’s roundieness. You’re seriously so handsome.” 

Jungkook smiles shyly, “thanks, heh. Roundieness isn’t even a word by the way.”

“It is now.” 

Jungkook simply furrows his brows and goes in for the attack. He bites your cheek. Gently of course. 

“Yah”, you step back, wiping the saliva from your skin. 

“I warned you and you wouldn’t listen. Consequences of your own actions, missy.”

“Don’t talk to me about consequences of my own actions, Mister Accidental Bowl Cut Which Aged Him Back Decades.”

Jungkook laughs and hugs your waist. You chuckle.

“Come on you, let’s go to bed and cuddle.”

“Yay cuddles. I swear today drained me. I almost fell asleep in the hot spring.” 

“Baby, you fell asleep. I had to hold your head so you wouldn’t accidentally drown.”

“I guess I did. I couldn’t help it. It was warm and cozy. I felt very relaxed.”

You and he get under the same blanket. He lies down on his side, you face him. His bangs fall to one side, now looking like those typical two thousand tens bangs every teenage boy had back then. 

You play with them, eyes spilling over with love.

“If I had met you back then, I so would have had a crush on you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm totally. You would have been my type. You are my type, but you get what I mean.”

“I do, yeah.” He smiles and reaches out to play with your hair. “You would have been my type too. Your mom showed me pictures of you when you were a teen and I would have had such a crush on you back then.”

“Oh god”, you chuckle, “I was such a mess though. Did she show you the pic of my clip in leopard print hair strands I rocked with black eyeliner?” 

“Of course she did. You totally rocked them.”

“No I didn't, I looked ridiculous.”

“At least you didn’t look like a circle.”

You laugh, “mhm maybe, but you’re the most handsome circle I have ever seen”, you say, pushing him to his back and climbing on his lap.

Jungkook holds your hips instantly, purring his words as he gazes at your lips.

“Yeah? I’m a handsome circle?”

“Mhhm the most handsome.”

“Hah, come and kiss me, baby.”

You smile, he smiles, sharing a breathy chuckle and little moan with you.

“Kiss me, please.”

“Fuck Kook, I can’t get enough of you”, you say and pull him into a deep kiss. 

[rxzennia]

don't you worry child

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 so like i lied and now here’s something not on my wip list. remember the theme park scene with three aventurines? this is loosely based on that. young kakavasha calls you mister like twice but that’s cause you’re looming tall. i wish i could yap about more exploring the map, but it’s already way too long :( would’ve speedran this fic but i was trying to beat divergent v (spoiler alert, i’m still trying)

“for in every adult there dwells the child that was, and in every child there lies the adult that will be.” 

when aventurine showed you the dream bubble made of his memories, he wasn’t expecting to bare his inner child to you. he thought it’d be some of his earlier days at the ipc, some of his conquests and schemes, or maybe some of his glorious wins at the casino, not what he has buried for so long – and definitely not something he’s tried so hard to deny for so long. sure, he will tell you eventually, but not now. not yet, not when he’s barely ready. 

and yet here you are, face to face with a child whose height barely reaches your hips. alone. aventurine said he’d be here with you, but where the hell is he?

you agreed to give your boyfriend’s(?) dream bubble a try, but where are you?

no one’s confessed but there are already rumors in the office so like tentatively dating, you suppose

and who is this small human in front of you?

you adjust your scarf, pulling it a little higher as you stare at the boy

he stares back at you

you try to not glare at him, but for all you know, you might still be glaring anyway

a few minutes pass, and the child blinks at you

he lifts one hand up, look at his feet then back at you, then he tiptoes

"you’re so tall, mister!" 

you look around for anyone else. there’s no one else.

"me?" you point at yourself

you’re not good with kids, you don’t know if you should bother engaging him, but hey, he’s just a kid

no reason to ignore him or tell him to leave you alone

if anything, him being all the way out here in the unregulated areas of the theme park means you should do something about it

maybe you should bring him back to the main area?

"yes, you, mister!" the child nods enthusiastically. "woah, you’re so big! can you come down a little?"

first off, that’s what she said. second, and more importantly, how is he not remotely intimidated by your presence? you’re a pretty towering figure even by your own standards, and you don’t exactly have a friendly face, so the fact that a kid of all people started talking to you…

but the more you look at him, the more you feel a sense of deja vu. his face reminds you of someone you know, but his demeanor is, like, the furthest thing away from that person.

you can’t really say no to him, so you crouch down slowly

you don’t know how to interact with him, but you can at least satisfy his curiosity

"like this?" you’re now a head and a half taller than him. somehow, he takes this as a sign to approach

"child, has no one taught you to not talk to strangers?" 

he gasps, like he suddenly remembered everything his parents warned him to not do, and he lowers his head like he’s just done something bad

"b-but you don’t seem like a bad person!" he bursts out, clumsily fiddling with his fingers. "you, you don’t give me the same feeling bad people do…"

"you should still be careful." you sigh as you adjust your scarf so it’s not touching the ground. "well, that aside. i’m down here now. can i help you?"

you watch as they kid slowly walk up to you, the curiosity shining in his eyes

you didn’t deny his claims! that means you’re a good person!

you’re mildly fascinated by the delicate little human

"i’m looking for someone," he says, finally looking up at you again, "t-then i have to go home… but i’m a little lost…"

is this what the world has come to? a kid asking you for help? in a dream bubble of all things?

though you did agree to experiencing the whole thing, so you should probably play along

"alright." you nod. "how should i call you?"

the child brightens up when you agree to help, and he almost reaches for your hands before he remembered personal space

"umm," he starts, keeping his hands awkwardly half-raised, "my name is kakavasha. mister, what about you?"

"kakavasha, hm?" you say, and you offer him one hand. you briefly wonder if it’s okay to tell dream kakavasha your name – this doesn’t seem like a typical dream bubble and all – but worst comes to worst, you’ll just force your way out.

so you tell the child your name, and you feel an overwhelming sense of adoration when he gingerly tries to repeat the syllables that you’ve just said.

dragon hoarding treasure moment intensifies

this kid is going to grow up into the man you know today? absolutely crazy

you’re kind of spacing out as you try to reconcile the kid in front of you with your boss

and while you’re doing that, you vaguely hear him repeating your name over and over again

"yes, that’s close enough." you finally interrupt his attempts to perfect his pronunciation. "where to, kakavasha?"

you stand up, and holy shit you’re so much taller than him

you briefly wonder if you can even hear him from all the way up there…

you can. you hear him crisp and clear. 

maybe a little too clear

he’s loud.

"can i lead the way?" he asks, as if you’d say no to him (???)

he grabs onto your hand without any reservations and he starts to drag you off

what do you do??? no human interaction has prepared you for children??? because no kid wanted to approach you like ever???

you’re taken so much by surprise that you kind of just… froze up

cue him trying to tug you somewhere but failing miserably

he tries with both hands, but you still wouldn’t budge

super confused

he tries harder

still nothing??? just how big is this big person???

"oh, sorry." you snap back to your senses, and you let him pull you to wherever he wants

after a few turns, pinball machines, and an entire maze later, you find yourself at the central stage, where aventurine did his grandest closing act. you can still see the slash of nihility, but it doesn’t seem that anyone else can see it. perhaps a distortion in the dream bubble itself?

kakavasha takes you straight to the center, right at where the slashed monitor sits.

this whole thing hasn’t sat well with you since you touched that bloody dream bubble

where the fuck is aventurine?

who is kakavasha trying to find?

why would they be here?

unless…

you come to a stop when kakavasha stops to look around. 

"oh, mister’s not here anymore." he whispers, lowering his eyes and fiddling with his fingers, "of course he wouldn’t be waiting…"

you slowly walk up by his side. "who exactly are we looking for? i don’t think you’ve ever told me."

"oh!" kakavasha gasps, "oh." he sputters a little, and he points to the stage. "i ran into a really cool mister earlier, and apparently he’s an actor!" 

now you know who he’s talking about

is this dr edward’s experimental model or something? it’s rare to see memoria taking such form

not that you understand memoria

did aventurine give you this dream bubble knowing this will happen?

so when he said he’d be around, did he mean…?

did he literally regress for this???? what is this, the most fantasy novel to have ever fantasized?

or is he watching you like some guy watching a playthrough of a rpg?

or is this entire thing a bug? because you thought you still have a few years to go before aventurine would even think of letting you so far into his mind

you sigh, it’s all far too complicated for you to think about

you’ll focus on the kid for now

"i see," you reply. you didn’t want to give such a dry response, but what are you even supposed to say? 

"but he seemed a little sad…" kakavasha mumbles, "i was hoping to catch him after his show…"

you’re slightly tempted to say "well you just missed him", but your brain is telling you to not do it

fine, you’ll hold your tongue :(

you watch as the child run around

you give him a few ten minutes before you crouch and open one arm for him

"come on," you sigh, "we’ll be here all day."

kakavasha looks at you, at your unreadable eyes, then your arm, then he tentatively slots himself into your side.

"woah, you’re so tall!" he exclaims when you slowly stand up with him on your shoulder. "i’m so high up! hehe!"

"i know, you’ve said that already," you deadpan

for how unfriendly you are, you sure aren’t hiding your worries well

your other arm has been hovering in front of the boy since the moment you stood up

and you’ve been careful with keeping your arm steady while you walk

"you see him?" 

"no…" comes kakavasha’s downtrodden reply. "i don’t have much time left, papa and mama will be worried if i don’t go home soon…"

you play along, wandering around for kakavasha to look for his adult self. "that’s a shame."

he turns to stare at you

you sound like you don’t give too much of a shit

but he can see that you’re a gentle person at heart

why else would you follow him around, hold his hand, and now lift him up so he can get a better view?

and you’ve also made sure that no monsters could get him

he makes a sad noise when you end up right in front of the monitor

you wonder if he could also see the slash of nihility, or if he intuitively sensed something

he taps your shoulder, a series of quick, feather-light pokes

"down?" you ask, but you’re already lowering kakavasha back onto the ground.

he approaches the broken monitor. "mister… did his show go well?" he grasps your hand tightly. "it was a great success, wasn’t it?"

you feel for the child, you really do. but this is a dream, an illusion where your actions won’t make any actual difference. you want to wrap him up and coddle him, but in the end, that will change nothing. 

"that it was." you nod, and you envelop his way smaller hands in your own. "the greatest success anyone’s ever seen."

somehow, your heart hurts when he breaks into a smile

"i’m glad." he says, like a weight’s been lifted off his chest

he probably already knows what happened

he knows himself best, after all

it’s not like you expect the child in front of you to be able to see through aventurine’s act

but they’re one in the same

that reckless abandon and affinity to games of chance didn’t come out of nowhere

you’re fairly certain he has his own guesses as to what happened to that "mister"

"do you know where the really cool mister is now?" kakavasha asks, looking at you with the most innocent gaze you’ve ever seen. "is he doing well?"

you can’t help but hear the subtext in his words, and you let out a soft snort. 

it’s such a "him" thing to do.

"i don’t know," you answer honestly, for you really don’t know. "but what i am certain of… is that he is not doing too badly."

you take note of the portal that slowly appeared in the middle of the stage. a picture frame, a crack, and hands prying that crack right open. 

you look into the distance, past the slash, past penacony, into the stars

"he’s alive," you say, "he’s living. will live."

you snap yourself out of your trance and look at the child next to you

"i’ll look after him, don’t worry."

you hope those words could be some sort of reassurance to him

"promise?" he offers you a pinky. "pinky promise?"

that’s cute

a quick image of others seeing you making a pinky promise flashes before your eyes

but what’s more important than the present?

"pinky promise." you hook your pinky with his. "i’ll make sure the really cool mister lives well."

kakavasha finally notices the portal, and he realizes it’s time to go home. he’s stayed out for too long, and now his family wants him home.

wherever home is to him, anyway

how do you even go home through a portal in a dream bubble

ever considered that maybe it’s better if you didn’t question everything

you let him drag you towards the portal

he doesn’t want to say goodbye to you quite yet

he’s pretty interested in this tall, scary person who isn’t actually scary at all

and he really wants to become friends with you (more like spend more time with you)

but he really needs to go, before his parents start to worry

you understand, of course you do, with how he’s fidgeting and glancing between you and the portal

and the face of a kid who’s just been told their playtime is over

so you nudge him a little, hoping that it’ll prompt him to go

are you surprised when it doesn’t work? not really? me neither

he refuses to let go of your hand

like legit just does not, even if both he and you know he has to

what can you do in such a scenario???

nothing’s prepared you for a silent tantrum

can you even call it a tantrum??? 

quick, come up with something!

alas, it doesn’t feel right to simply wave and part ways

"young kakavasha." you kneel down and unwrap your scarf from your neck. "take this with you," you say as you wrap the fabric around him, paying the strange feeling of exposing your scales no mind. you open your mouth to elaborate, but your words die in your throat. 

kakavasha looks at you; he doesn't need to crane his neck for once, and he flinches from the foreign feeling of your fingers ghosting ever so slightly against his face. for how much you’ve taken care of him while he wandered around the theme park, you’re still only a really kind stranger. nowhere close enough to be giving each other gifts.

"it gets cold at night," you say, finally cracking a tiny smile for the child before you, your hand landing on top of his head gently. "you’ll at least be warmer this way."

you watch kakavasha’s bewildered expression as he touches his new scarf, feeling the smooth fabric and how oddly chunky it feels looped around him. it isn’t a bad feeling, not at all. it’s more like a big hug, the sort that scares away the monster under the bed and wards off nightmares.

"thank you…" he mumbles, still dazed and taken by the new addition to his limited wardrobe. he lifts his face to look at you, taking note of your iridescent scales and your soft gaze. he beams, a grin so bright that it ignites even your inhuman heart. "i’ll treasure this! it feels so nice… thank you so much!"

"mm. go on, now." you nod, and you nudge him towards the portal. "don’t keep your family waiting."

kakavasha blinks at you. "you’re not coming?" he asks, tilting his head to the side innocently. 

"unfortunately." you beckon him forward and give him a small kiss on the top of his head before you stand up fully. "if fate shall have it, though… i suppose we will meet again."

"sis has always said that i’m blessed with fortune!" kakavasha almost jumps to grab onto you, but he just misses your shoulders by a hair. "see you next time!"

he spends a good minute waving at you before he turns around to leave. somehow… you feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. an inexplicable wave of melancholy washes over you like frigid waves on a windy day, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

you watch the child until he disappears into the frame, and you don’t look away for another minute.

"see you, kakavasha."

[tinydefector]

Is it too much to ask for a follow-up on the Human' Effects fic?

Prev

Next

Masterlist

This is more just some more information of headcanons I have and how I like writing the bots. So I hope you enjoy it. This one's more on the differences and similarities between humans and Cybertronians.

Word count: 2.5k

Warning: mentions of reproduction, and exploration of body's. Valveplug.

__________

So this is just a continuation for Human effects. This one also delves into some more information on biological, cultural and different frames and how they interact with each other, humans and other organic Creatures. 

Biological Humans and Cybertronians are vastly different even with quite a few similarities. 

Sparklings and children 

There is a very big difference in the body function of Humans and Cybertronians. Size for one but also Organic DNA and CNA. There are many things which can Line up with the other species but also function very differently 

Such as. 

structure and organ comparison 

Plating - skin

Helm - head

Processor, brain module - brain 

Faceplate- face

Audio Receptors, Audials, Receptor orifices - ears 

Nasal ridge, enstril, olfactory sensors- nose

Optical ridge - eyebrows

Optics, visors  - eyes and glasses sometimes visors are used as optics

Intake- mouth, throat or a breath. 

Denta, denta plating- teeth 

Glossa- tongue 

Mandibles (insecticons) - jaw 

Vocalizer- voice box 

Chin or chin plating are the same 

Chestplate, chassis- chest and higher stomach (abs area) 

Fuel tanks- stomach. 

Backplate, back struts, binary system,  bipedalism - back and spine, spinal cord. 

Servos and digits - Hands and fingers 

Sounder plating - shoulder blades 

Pede - feet 

pump and Spark - heart and soul 

Energon lines - arrays veins. 

Vents - lungs, breath. 

Pelvic plate - pelvis

Aft, tailpipe, skid plate- butt

Interface panel - covered reproduction organs

Spike - penis 

Value - vagina 

Carrier chamber, Gestation chamber - womb

Helm and head

With the fact one is filled with circuitry, coding and wires and the other is filled with flesh, fluid and other organic matter. Humans' heads are covered in hair most times. And even those who aren't their head Is still rather soft and smooth. And the bots love playing with human hair and facial hair when they are allowed too. 

It also leads to humans giving the bots head scratches, and it's something so man you the bots had never thought of and they love it. They will lay their head in their human lap and just enjoy the gentle touches to their Finial, audials, and helm crest. It becomes. Causal thing of the humans using soft little microfiber cloths to clean out dust and dirt from the small crevices in the bots Plating. Head pats and scratches really becomes something that Cybertronians love alot and it makes a lot of humans consider the bots large cats.

Faceplate and Faces. 

One of the things which is very different between humans and Cybertronians is how they show affection to each other. Cybertronians do a thing called a helm hold. Where they each hold their partner's helm in their servos while looking into each other's optics, it's how they show how much they care, because they are focusing only on that one person. And it means alot more after the war, to focus all your attention on just one bots servos shows a lot of trust, affection and love for someone.  

While humans have Hugging, kissing. So the bots are rather confused the first time they are hugged, tensing up not wanting to hurt their human. And they nearly short circuit when the human kisses them it's more out of fear. 

“Do you know how dangerous that is! What if I crushed you!” The bot hisses in panic while looking at their lover. “not to mention the fact that is my Energon Intake! Do you know what energon can do to Humans!” It nearly sends the bot into meltdowns as they hold their lover's face staring into their eyes trying to show them how much they love and care for them. It would break their spark if they accidentally hurt them. 

“it's called a Kiss, I was kissing you” the human tries to explain, their hands cupping around their bots servos. 

“a kiss?” the bot inquired. “Yea I'm sorry if you didn't want it, it's just I thought we were in that part of our relationship” the human begins rambling out of anxiety thinking they had messed up. In the end they both settle for a small gesture in-between. Pressing their head and helm, together as they cradle the other. 

Eventually they will come around to accepting kisses but it is only for very special occasions. Because the bot will make sure that there isn't a trace of energon in their system for their partner's safety. Over time it becomes them pressing soft kisses to each other's noses. 

Skin and Plating 

These are all the parts which somewhat are similar to humans, but also work vastly different than the human body does. So with this listed here are many of the things that vary with the similarities. 

Plating and skin are vastly different due to one being metal and the other being flesh, it's one of the things a lot of the Cybertronians love is how soft Human skin is. They really enjoy just fondling their human companions, pulling their checks, and enjoying how their skin moves. How pliable, warm and squishy they are. Cybertronians finding out about human breasts really takes them by storm. 

“What are those?” the bot asks while pressing a finger to their breast feeling how soft and squishy they are. 

“breast, boobs, tits they have a lot of names” 

“What are they for?” The bot continues to just slowly play with them out of curiosity, not knowing what the human would need them for. 

“they are used for feeding babies, they fill with milk, it's not a constant thing and not everyone's do but they are for feeding babies.” the human tries to explain and it just leaves the bot shocked. 

“You're with Sparkling?” The bot asked as they began fussing over the human more, gently pressing their digits to the human's body more. 

“no, no I'm not pregnant!” They laugh out loud while rather embarrassed. “‘but wouldn't they deflate?” The bot shoots back as their digits begin needing the flesh which makes the humans sigh and lean into the touch. “human babe, don't have the same functions as you.” They tease softly.

 It ends up with one bot having their human lover back pressed to their Chassis. The bot's servos just cupped around their partners breast slowly massaging them as the human leans back just enjoying the feeling because it takes the weight off their back and the cool touch of the metal feels delightful against their skin. 

Heart and spark

The difference between a human heart and spark aren't that different at all. They both pump blood/energon to where it's needed, it's the life provider of the body. Each has a beat or pulse. And the said beat and pulse sounds different. A human's heart beat feels like a thump but to Cybertronians it's an echo. Each beat they can feel and see like A beating light. And they love how it feels laying against them, their spark will actually fall in tune With their heart beat as a way to calm the human.  While for humans a Cybertronians spark pulse feels like electricity dancing across their skin it's like the build up of static but it doesn't zap. The vibration of a spark is like energy building and releasing, the buzzing sound that just resonates through their body as they lay against their bot. 

olfactory sensors and nose

Unfortunately humans don't have the enhanced scent sensors that a lot of other species do, and Cybertronians have one for the most advanced ones, they don't just smell it but they can break down the chemical compound to its base and are able to tell humans emotions based on how they smell. It also leads to bots becoming rather touching with their lovers when they can smell their cycle. It also leads a lot of bots realising they have a breeding kink after being with a human, because the moment they can feel their partners change in hormones they are hovering. It becomes an even bigger thing when they smell the scent of a young spark, they feel the EM Field. 

carriers and pregnancy 

There is a major difference between human pregnancy and cybertronian pregnancy. Humans can only be born from reproduction.  a new spark can be formed in multiple ways. 

-Forged.  

-Cold construct. 

-split spark

- Sparked 

Forged new sparks are bots that are formed in hotspots across cybertron and on occasions sparklings can also be formed from these hot spots. 

Cold constructs are bots that have been made by others for a purpose and were originally classed as 2nd class citizens, miners or lower than other bots, 

Split Sparks made from splitting your spark into another form. It was very rare due to multiple laws being inplace against it. 

Sparklings were formed through spark merging with another and creating enough energy to form new lifeforms. A carrier would then have to host said spark in their Gestation chamber until the spark could grow its own protoform. Then from there they are moved into the carrier chamber where they learn off their carrier's coding, and also receive food, coding and personal information from their Sire via Transfluid. As sparklings are still not able to consume normal energon and it has to be processed down enough for the sparkling. (Similar to how humans breastfeed) from there once they are ready the sparkling will be ‘birthed’ and from their they will need to be carried in a spark chamber until they have fully developed but gives them time to learn the world around them but still have the safety of a parent to protect them. 

This leads the bots and humans to both be horrified at the differences of the others' reproduction. The bots are horrified over the fact a human's pelvis bone breaks just to birth a baby. But also the fact that humans can carry more than one child. They eventually watch a documentary over human birth; it makes a lot of bots short out and crash. 

Humans on the other hand are shocked over the time it takes for a bot to have a sparkling. 100 years is longer than a lot of humans ever live but it's how long it takes for the full process of a sparkling to be formed and born. That's without all the issues with CNA, temperature, spark energy, energon. A Lot of Cybertronian pregnancies don't make it to term due to these factors. 

So when by some chance a human gets pregnant by a Cybertronian it has the whole planet up in a tissy. Not just the fact of how genetically different they are but how it happened. The first human Cybertronian sparkling is a miracle watched by man and documented. And it turns out the human womb is actually the best possible hosting spot for the start of a sparkling, it's the perfect temperature, and it's not a temperature a lot of bots can keep their own frames. The human womb actually short cuts a lot of time over the birth Due to the sparkling Not needing to be shifted from one chamber to another. It comes down to being pregnant for 3 years. It's a long time for a human but it's decades Less than what it normally takes for a Cybertronian if they made it through the full progress. 

And when the sparkling is born it's discovered that the sparkling doesn't have any human traits, defects or appearance. Due to the human body mainly working as a host, the CNA and DNA don't mix when it comes to creating a sparkling but they work perfectly in sync When it comes to helping the sparkling grow. And it also turns out humans are able to sustain more than One sparkling. 

That also brings me to the function of spike and Valves. For Cybertronians spikes and Valves aren't how Sparklings are created, sparklings are created from two sparks merging together and creating enough energy for a sparkling but interface is needed to start the process of how they form. Sparkling needs Transfluid to begin and that is what Cybertronians use interfacing for outside of sharing memories, information and emotions. Most times Cybertronians interface for fun, feeling close, sharing information with a loved one, or to help feed a sparkling the necessary data, fluids and programming. 

so When a Cybertronian and human interface it has a lovely mix of a 50/ 50 chance of getting pregnant due to how the human and cybertronian heart and spark link in a frequency that is almost essential Spark merging. And a human doesn't even need to interface with a Cybertronian to get pregnant.

Here is a list of ways humans have gotten pregnant/ a bot has gotten pregnant. 

-interfacing 

-spark bonding 

-a human touching a bots spark. 

-having enough hated for another you get them pregnant by sheer Anger

- spark And heart syncing 

-A human being on their cycle will make a bot pregnant. 

______________

Megatron entered the medbay of the Lost Light, feeling unusual warmth and pressure in his chest. "Ratchet," he said gruffly to get the medic's attention. "Something is...off. I feel as if I have consumed fool's energon again, but I know that is not the case." 

He looked down at the medic, his optics betraying slight concern beneath his usual stern demeanour. "Examine me and determine what ails me. I need to be at full function." His pride did not allow him to admit weakness easily, but he trusted Ratchet's skills. 

Ratchet nodded to First Aid and They as they stood ready to assist. He turned back to Megatron with a scrutinising gaze.

"When did you first notice the symptoms? Any other anomalies in your systems?" he asked gruffly, scanning the Decepticon warlord from head to foot with a diagnostic tool. The scans showed unusual activity in Megatron's Gestation chamber.

"Hmm...it appears your spark is pulsing more rapidly than normal. And the pressure you described suggests a buildup of energon flow." Ratchet paused, analysing the data. "This could indicate...no, it's not possible. Or is it...?" He leaned in closer, inspecting Megatron with keen optics.

"We'll need a more detailed scan. Over here, lay back - this won't hurt but may feel peculiar. First Aid, fire up the resonator. Ambulon you're in charge of monitoring vitals."

"What's wrong, ratchet he was fine this morning?" The human asked in concern. 

Megatron lay back on the medical berth as directed, his massive frame dwarfing its size. his expression softened ever so slightly. As the detailed spark scan began, Ratchet's optics widened in surprise. "By the Allspark...it can't be..." He motioned First Aid "Look here. What do you see?"

First Aid peered at the monitor in amazement. "Two distinct spark pulses...but how is that possible?" Ratchet glanced over at Megatron, then back at the others. "It would seem Megatron himself is carrying sparkling. The increased energon flow and pressure were signs of protoform development beginning."

He chuckled wryly. "Well Megatron, it seems that fool's energon was not to blame after all. Congratulations...you're going to be a creator." Megatron's optics widened in disbelief at Ratchet's announcement. Carrying sparkling? It made no sense as far as he knew, spark merging could only occur between cybertronians and he had only been intimate with a human. 

He sat up abruptly, almost knocking First Aid over, and glared down at Ratchet. "Explain yourself, medic! How is this possible? The human and I have been intimate but they clearly lack our means of conception." Ratchet held up a calming hand. "Peace, Megatron. I have a theory," 

Taglist: @angelxcvxc

@ladyofnegativity

[yaut-jaknowit]

I really love "The Wrong Secret to Hold". Can I request the yautja in that fic ? He and reader are just enjoying their day and reader is an artist and Ahtaal(?) is very intrigued of readers creativity.

An Artist's Touch

Character: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Summary: As an artist, a talent not many Yautjas possess, you are seen commodity like no other. There are few humans on Yautja Prime. Let one's that are under the empress's protection. Being different, you strayed away from the palace with her permission to stay in a town far in the world. Ahtaal's town. He's intrigued to see someone make something out of nothing.

Author Note: This is what I wish my life to be. I want to be resting on Yautja Prime, sketch book in hand, and just enjoying the deadly nature. Gods, I wish!

Masterlist

Ao3

Underneath an awning that offered plenty of shade a pencil and sketch were hand. Despite the credits you hold, you’ve found a spot within a tribe that resides in temperate area on Yautja Prime. It’s small. Less than fifty Yautjas are strewn across the territory, But it was perfect for yourself along the clan. They accepted you due to your talent.

Creating art. Murals painted on walls in important Yautjas houses. Including the empress all the way in Kov. She tried to offer you all the riches to stay at her palace. But, your wanted to explore, see the planet from a deep, inside look. Being inside the empress’s palace, practically trapped, offered you none of that. A city filled with Yautjas. What you wanted to see was the outside world. How they hunt, how they think. It made the murals you created come to life.

A morning dew softened the air that would soon turn hot. This area was considered temperate to them. To a human, it was far too hot for you to stand directly in the sunlight. The suns themselves would turn your skin red in less than five minutes. A planet that wasn’t meant your kind. That didn’t stop you from being out in a designated spot that had been crafted just for you.

The thatch on top plenty thick to prevent a single strand of sunlight from slipping through. You were sitting on a plush bean bag like chair. It was soft and body conforming. The furs used to cover it came from a creature you couldn’t even try to say the name. But their fur was so soft, it felt like being on a cloud. You enjoyed the calmness that floated through the air. The sketch book and pencil in your hand is all you needed for the morning.

Nearly silent footfalls had you picking up your head and finding a familiar red figure walking into the shade. A bright smile graced your features. “Ahtaal,” you greeted. The strong male strolled up to the foot of the plush seat you’ve taken and gazed down at you. “What do I owe to be graced with your presence?”

After picking a tribe to live with, Ahtaal had made a blood oath to the empress to ensure your safety. Though humans and Yautjas are an uncommon sight to see, you were one of the very few to be allowed to live freely. There were no ifs, ands, or buts to your presences amongst the Yautjas. Your talented hands ensured you had a place. The empress gracing you sanctum anywhere on the planet. Here you choose to be, of all places. But the face of Ahtaal was one you’d never pass up on.

The lumbering giant squats down in front of you and peers over the edge of the book. “I see you working away on another project,” he explained, eyes curiously running over the sketch you’ve started. Another commission for an ancient somewhere on the planet. Maybe she was up north? You let the book fall flat on your lap. Your artwork wasn’t something you hid, let alone from him.

The sketch book is turned around to face Ahtaal. “Yep, someone up north I think commissioned me. Got some more credits in the pockets.” Even as someone protected by the empress, you still liked to work for your own money. There was plenty you had since you had little to spend it on. No clothes, food, shelter, or supplies. It was just there so when anyone commissioned you, they could pay for your work. Though, gifts were another way for them pay you. There are a few trinkets you enjoyed happily every since you got them.

Carefully, Ahtaal ran just the side of his sharp claw over the pages. He traced over some of the darker, more permanent lines that marked what you truly had in mind. A deep hum rumbled from his throat. The male focused on what you’ve created on paper. A talent he will never possess, no matter how many times you egg him in.

“What do they ask for?” he questioned and brought his bright eyes up to yours. The contrast was stark. Calm, soft verses fierce, predatory. He wished there was a way to capture the beautiful color of your irises and color it somewhere in his dwelling.

The way they brightened at the question. “That snarly beast that reminds me of a carnivore looking horse that lives near the north pole.” The hairs on your arm raised at the thought of the creature. It was beyond ugly and terrifying at the same time. It looked completely unnatural when you try to give it a logical look to it with earth creatures in mind.

Ahtaal snorted, mandibles twitching with a few slow nods. Then, his gaze drops back down to the sketch book. The pages were nearly full. A constant thing for yourself.

For such an advanced species… their entertainment was limited to mainly hunting. As a human that can’t participate in such a thing, you have limited ways of filling the time. You wield pencils, not swords.

“Is this your last sketch book?” Ahtaal was responsible for your wellbeing. That includes taking care of all needs and wants under the order of the empress. But, it wasn’t only just because he was under oath.

The hand on your book lifted off. A sharp, black ended talon tipped your chin back up to meet his intense stare. You licked at your suddenly dry lips and swallowed hard. You felt mushy. “I-uh…” you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah, it is.” Your heart stuttered in your chest while gazing into his eyes. If only you could look into them all day.

“Then, I shall go get more when time permits. I cannot have my little ooman without paper to draw on,” he grunted. The back of his shiny claw was dragged across your jawline, all the way up to your ear. With a swipe, it left your skin. More goosebumps rose across the skin on your arms. “Will you survive until tomorrow for me to get more?”

Your throat was dry. His words had soared over your head. All you were able to focus on was his gentle, mind consuming touch. You melted.

When you found your voice, you speak in a tiny voice. “Yeah.” How could one person reduce you to a school girl in front of her crush? You gnawed on your bottom lip and pulled on the skin harshly. Blood painted your tastebuds.

Red finger grasped your chin and lightly jerked down on it. “Don’t,” he warned and stopped you from mutilating your lip again. You licked at the new wound, unable to look away from his eyes. Ahtaal swipes over the moisten skin with his thumb. You weren’t able to stop yourself from licking at the deadly, pointed claw that tipped the end of his finger.

All the muscles in his body tensed up in the same manner as your own. You couldn’t believe you had just done that. It had only been a thought. Yet, apparently, your body had a different thought of its own.

At first, your mouth opened and closed. Your brain couldn’t figure out a way to make up an excuse for the stupidity you had just pulled. “Shit, I-I didn’t… Fuck, why did I do that?” you whined to yourself and pulled away.

Except, Ahtaal tightened his grip on your chin and tugged you in closer. Your lips were parted, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Stars sparkling in them. Something changed within his gaze. A darker, heavier tint to the usually light colored irises.

“You… play a dangerous game, little ooman,” he growled out and emphasized his point by tugging you an inch closer to him. The warmth of his breath fanned over your face. “And I don’t know if you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You wettened your lips again. A habit hard to break. His eyes darted down to watch the action then seemed to soften. Like a whine was on the tip of his tongue.

Everything he said… Your heart continued to thunder loudly in its cavern. You swallowed hard and raised a hand to just touch at the column of his throat. The scales soft under your touch. A vulnerable place for any creature. Ahtaal lets you freely run your finger pads from his jaw down the front to where his collarbones meet.

The texture of his scales weren’t like anything you’ve felt before. Tough in a fight. You let your dull nails to trace a pattern through the spaces of the scales. Your hand continuously moving even if the two of your don’t look away.

“And what if… I do know,” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. The surrounding space didn’t need to listen in on your conversation. “What if I want to play this game?”

A deep bellow vibrated throughout his chest. The tone so low you felt it more than heard it. You whimpered. Goosebumps covered your forearms. His eyes darkened. “Are you sure? Are you willing to let me have that power?” To hand over your power to him is a huge sign of trust. Let alone to someone who wasn’t event he same species.

“Yes,” is all you needed to say. Ahtaal towered over you, body leaning over your curled up form. His hand had shifted down to your fragile throat. Just enough pressure, just a flick of wrist and you would be nothing but a memory. Your eyes drifted close. Everything you were doing made the Yautja go wild. Every sign of submission to him. You, someone of high talent, was allowing to take that power from you.

Ahtaal growled from the back of his throat. His thumb ran along the pulse point on your throat, feeling the way it rapidly fluttered just under the skin. “Such a delicate thing under my hand. You are letting me have this.” You only gave a subtle nod, not wanting to move too much. The moment was thick with tension yet soft like clouds. You didn’t want to break a thing.

“Oh little ooman,” he cooed in a husky voice. Your eyes gently open to find him still so close to you with a low whine. His hand drifted up to cup your cheek. The large, dark red male leaned in to press his forehead to yours. “Mine?”

More of a question rather than a statement.

A smile graced your features. “Yes.” An artist and their hunter.

He finds himself scooping you off of the lounge chair and up into his arms. A surprised yelp escapes you as you clung to his neck. The sketch book and pencil you once held fell to the ground with a subtle thump. Ahtaal takes your seat and sets you down in his lap. You glared at him with no real heat in your eyes then leaned over his knees to grab at your fallen supplies.

“Well, good sir, I could’ve moved all by myself you asked,” you huffed. One of your hands was able to pick up the items off of the ground. As you go to sit back up, Ahtaal hooks an arm around your midsection and pulls you flush with his chest. The things in your grasp nearly fall back to the ground. You whipped your head to the side and narrowed your eyes on him.

All he did was chuckle from deep within his chest. The tension in the air has passed now. The soft clouds were the only thing left in their wake.  

His arm flexed around your torso and kept your lower back snug to his stomach. You could only wiggle without a chance of escape. “Ahtaal, at least let me get into a more comfortable position then this.” Ahtaal listened to you. You gave him a pointed look before twisting into a position that you were able to still draw in.

Only your butt was planted firmly in his lap. You lounged sideways and used the side of the cushion to keep yourself slightly upright. Just enough to have the book on your lower thighs and draw. You peer up at Ahtaal with a pointed look that turned into a soft smile. The expression on his face was at ease, relaxed, and gentle with the sight of you.

Ahtaal placed a hand on your knee and rubbed his thumb against your skin. “How’s this?” he purred in a tone that made you want to smack him. Somehow, you refrained from fulling such a thought. Instead, you scoffed and started back on the project in hand. Ahtaal watched an artist at work, amazed the way you create something out of nothing.

[lavendermin]

Not a request, but I just wanted to ramble about this thought I've been having for a while (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

Jing Yuan who is so in-tune with how his s/o acts that if they get kidnapped and someone impersonates them (even if appearances are perfect like Sparkle's ability), he's just like "ahaha you're not them, okay where are they" by the first few lines the impersonator says

I think this is such a neat concept to play around with and explore not only the relationship but giving the reader depth with exploring mannerisms and habits they may have with Jing Yuan.

He’s a perceptive man, of course he would tell when something is off with his beloved.

Take, for example, possession by a heliobus. You’re left with an out of body experience like you’re listening from within a dream as a heliobus possesses your body to try to get to leech off your energy and emotions. Of course your emotions are strongest with Jing Yuan. How could they not be?

The heliobus has unfortunately picked up on this.

cw | possession

There’s a knock at the door and Jing Yuan is faced with your bashful smile in the middle of the night. Right off the bat he can sense something is off.

“Evening, my love,” you greet with a shy wave. “I got, um, locked out of my place.”

“Again?” he inquires with a raised brow. “Come inside. It’s rather cold out.”

He’s got you seated in the living room as he brings a pot of tea and some cups. Your hands felt rather cold so this should warm you up, he insists. You take the drink with a sincere thanks, cheeks warm.

“You probably have not eaten since you were locked out. It was a long walk here I’m sure.” Jing Yuan returns with a small tray of fruits and an assortment of small snacks. It quickly takes up much of the coffee table and you anxiously reassure that he shouldn’t have to trouble himself over this for you.

The tea on your lips brings a delightful feeling of reassurance—belonging.

“Who are you, really?” Jing Yuan asks casually, a sharpness barely registering as he maintains his cool. “I know the person in front of me is my true beloved, however, one does not change overnight.”

Your body falters, and there’s a haze that you can barely hear Jing Yuan’s familiar voice through. The heliobus is struggling to maintain composure.

“What do you mean? I’m–”

“Eye contact.”

“What?”

Jing Yuan chuckles, something smooth and calculating. “She cannot hold eye contact for more than four seconds, not even with me most of the time. When you arrived, it was far too straightforward.”

He reaches over to pluck the teacup from your hands, turning it in his grip inquisitively. Your mouth is left agape, fingers slightly twitching as the heliobus struggles. There are slight lipstick smudges all around from where you (or rather, the heliobus) drank from it.

“You do not know her character. She is particular about drinking from only one area where her lips have already stained the cup. She is meticulous. You are not.”

“T-That’s not–” Your voice shifts as the heliobus begins to lose hold. It’s disorienting—feeling like you’re listening to a conversation within a dream.

“And lastly,” he continues, “she would not have knocked. She would have messaged me of her arrival.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Ah, right on time.”

Jing Yuan stands, the heliobus at a loss for words at such an overbearing energy he gives off. A silent rage flickers like embers with his piercing honeyed stare. The fear is raw as it courses through them—the feeling weighing heavily on you by extension.

The smile Jing Yuan gives is anything but sincere. You feel a shiver run up your spine. “It seems your time playing a part is now over. I would like my beloved back. Do give the Ten-Lords Commission my regards.”

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 13: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 4)

Summary: Soap takes you to a special place he’s found during your five days at the Cabin. You sit, eat, and talk about your pasts a little bit. Soap opens up more than you expect, and you share some stuff about your past too.

Word Count: 6,511

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, mentions of death, slightly descriptive mentions of death, car accident, trauma, sweet moments

A/N: Time for a little bonding between you and Soap. More to follow ☺️😉 Also, a Taglist has been added! Please comment on if you’d like to be added to it! Thanks for reading 🫶🏻

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 13

The place Soap had in mind for lunch turned out to be absolutely beautiful. A small clearing opened up before you, with a crystal-clear stream winding through it. In one spot, the water pooled gently, forming a small, serene pond. Reeds and wildflowers grew in abundance around the water’s edge, their vibrant colors adding a touch of whimsy to the scene. Only a few trees dotted the clearing, allowing plenty of sunlight to stream through, casting a warm and inviting glow over the area.

The second you walk to the spot, you have to stop to really take it all in. As cliche as it sounded, the spot really was breathing taking. It makes you sad to think that it’s been here the whole time, and you’re just now finding out about this spot on day five.

“Wow…” You breathe, Soap stopping a few steps ahead of you to wait for you to finish taking it all in. “It’s so pretty. How on earth did find this place?” You ask, eyes still trained on the scene ahead as you resume your walking.

“It was the first day we got here. After our big blow up at each other, I went exploring to cool off and just happened to stumble upon it by chance.” He answers. “Come on, the best spot to sit is over here.”

You let him take the lead again, noticing the path you were following looked like it had been walked on before. A lot of the tall grasses and other shrubs were in disarray or broken.

It wouldn’t surprise you if Soap had frequented this place throughout the five days you’ve been here. There were a lot of opportunities for him to get angry and want to storm off somewhere to cool down. This was quite the place to cool down too. You wouldn’t blame him for wanting to come here.

The path Soap was following lead right up the stream. Once you’re right next to him at the edge of the water, Soap glances over at you. “We can cross here. Just be careful cause these rocks can get a little slippery. Especially that speckled one.”

“What? Why are we crossing? Can’t we just stay on this side?” You question him, looking back to the gentle stream. Although it’s not particularly wide or deep, you’d need to take a couple of steps through the water to get across. You notice a few rocks scattered across the stream that could serve as stepping stones, but the prospect of crossing seemed unnecessary.

Soap shrugs a bit. “I mean we could, but there’s a clearing that’s just tall grass right by the water on the other side.” He points out the space he was talking about. “It’s a nice spot. Just trust me.”

You hum softly in thought, debating on if it’s worth the risk of falling in. It wasn’t like the stream would sweep you away or you’d drown—it’d just make for a cold, soggy walk back to the cabin. Even then, it was quite warm out today, so there was a good chance you wouldn’t even be that cold.

You go back and forth in your mind for a little longer before just giving in and agreeing. “Alright.” You sigh. “Better be super worth it, cause I’m risking falling in for it.”

Soap huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “States, if a big muscular guy like me can cross without falling in, I’m sure someone as slim and nimble as you can make it without a problem.

You gasp and dramatically slap a hand over your chest. “Wow, slim and nimble? I think that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me.” You tease, making Soap roll his eyes.

“I’ve complimented you plenty of times.” He grumbles as he turns to face the stream. He begins to cross the stream, his step placement confident looking. You can tell that he’s done this a few times now. Either that or the rocks were that slippery.

“Saying shit like, ‘you didn’t suck as much today’ does not count.” You call after him, watching as he shifts his weight so that he’s standing on two rocks.

He looks back at you, his brows pinched slightly and an indignant look on his face. “That totally counts.” He insists.

“That’s a back handed compliment at best.” You argue back, folding your arms over your chest as you watch him.

He raises a brow at you, almost mockingly. “Still a compliment though. And besides, that’s how all of us compliment each other.”

You can’t deny that. The 141 boys did have a habit of tossing around quips more than actual praise. Gaz was the exception. He didn’t do it as often, but even he had his moments. Still, you’ve received genuine compliments from Price when it was just the two of you, and Gaz gave them to you quite a bit. Ghost hardly ever did, but that was just Ghost.

“I’ve gotten real compliments from the others before.” You counter, finally stepping forward to place your foot on the first rock.

“Even Ghost?” Soap retorts, holding out his hand to help you balance while you get your footing. You take it, wobbling a bit until you get your other foot placed. Once you have your balance, you let go of Soap’s hand.

“Ghost doesn’t count. You’d be lucky if he insulted you.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that.” Soap laughs a little bit, easily stepping across the remaining stones and getting to the other side without a problem. He didn’t even so much as wobble.

You follow after him, holding out your arms to the side a bit to help you balance. You managed to get across though without falling in. It wasn’t that difficult to cross; the rocks were flat enough and they really weren’t too wet. The second your feet hit the grass on the other side, Soap is giving you a slow clap.

“Good job. You crossed and didn’t fall in. Gold star. How’s that for a compliment?” He teases, getting an eye roll.

“Oh fuck off.” You groan, giving him a shove. Soap laughs as you push him away, his arms coming up to shield himself as he stumbles a little away from you. “Just go back to not complimenting me. I think it was better that way.”

“If you insist.” He laughs. “Just remember that you told me that the next time you start whining about how I never say anything nice.”

Soap starts to lead the way once more, walking you over to the spot he’d been so insistent on going to. True to his word, it’s right by the water, nestled on a tiny mound that offers a perfect view of the stream below. A small waterfall that feeds into the pond adds a soothing backdrop of sound. The tall grass around the area is flattened, clear evidence that Soap has visited this place at least once before.

When you get there, Soap steps into the center of where all the grass is flattened and begins to stomp a little more down more around the edges to make room for you to sit. Once he’s done, he steps over to one side and motions for you to get comfortable in the spot he’s just made.

“There we go. Have a seat.” He says, dropping the backpack from his shoulders and setting it down in the grass before sitting himself.

You sit down slowly, surprised by how soft the grass feels beneath you. Being so close to the water, it’s lush and cool, not dried out or prickly like you’d expected. You could honestly take a nap here.

“I still can’t get over how beautiful it is out here. So different from base and deployments.” You say once you’re settled in.

The military base you were currently stationed at, like most others, was dominated by neutral tones and dark green colors. It was a familiar sight—most bases you’d been to had a similar aesthetic. The ones in America were mostly concrete and equipment, with gray dominating the landscape. The base you're at now does have patches of grass, but they’re poorly maintained, with dirt paths worn into them from the constant foot traffic of soldiers.

Then of course when it came to your deployments, half the time you went to places where it was mostly desert. If you did go to a place with a lot of natural greenery, then it was normally so war torn, with uprooted trees, tank tracks, and pits that people dug or ones created by frags, that it wasn’t very enjoyable. The other scenario was you were in a beautiful place but couldn’t enjoy it because you were being shot at.

This was a rare treat. The sounds of nature, no war in sight, no needing to be on high alert for snipers. Just time to sit back and enjoy the beauty of the world you hardly got to see. Even if at first this unscheduled vacation seemed like a death sentence, you were learning to enjoy it. At the very least, you could take back snippets of moments like this.

“Yeah,” Soap hums softly from where he’s seated. “It reminds me a little of Scotland.”

You glance over at him, taking notice of the faint smile on his face as he looks around at the little grassy meadow. He was thinking about his motherland. His home. There’s a longing in his eyes that you’d have to be blind to miss.

“How so?” You venture, wanting to hear more about where he came from. You were sure that Soap, ever the proud Scotsman, would have no problem gushing about Scotland. And you were right. The second the question leaves your lips, he seems to light up.

“All this lush, rolling grass, the gentle breeze, the fresh air, and the sound of the stream—it reminds me of the Highlands and the woods by my childhood home. We lived right outside of town, and our house sat on a hill, giving us the best view of the open land. Behind us, there were miles and miles of woods, covered in moss, with a stream running through it. It was bigger than this one, but the feel of it… it’s the same.”

He pauses, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he continues. “I spent so much time out there when I was a wee laddie. From sunup to sundown, I was always outside. My friends and I would climb trees, play all sorts of game, build forts. In the stream, we would stack rocks to build dams and splash around when it was warm.”

You laugh softly, smiling at the thought of a young, rowdy John MacTavish playing in the woods. It was something you could easily picture. “No wonder you’re so knowledgeable about bears and stuff.”

Soap shrugs a little bit. “We don’t have bears in Scotland. The most dangerous animals out where I was were boars and red deer. I learned all that stuff about bears when I was deployed in Russia.”

“Well regardless, it sounds like you were quite the forest dweller as a child.”

Soap laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Aye, I was. I went to the woods for everything. My favorite spot was that stream though. I’d go out there by myself and sit by the water, letting it wash away whatever was on my mind. It was always my go to place when I was sad, angry, or just needing to clear my head. It always made me feel better.”

Soap pauses a moment, a little huff of a laugh leaving him as he recalls some story on his mind. “Like the time I first learned I’d no longer be an only child. When my mum and dad told me I was gonna have a little sister, I was so pissed. Took off right out the back door and spent hours out there.”

You laugh softly, but your eyebrows are raised in surprise. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

His files made no mention of his family, though you suppose they wouldn’t have anyway. Information like that was kept almost as secure as launch codes. Still, you always pictured Soap as an only child.

“Yeah, fucking three of them.” He huffs, which surprises you even further. “Eilidh (AY-lee), Rowan, and Kirsten.”

“Damn, MacTavish. I never would have pictured you growing up with three girls.” You smirk, and he returns it, amused himself.

“That’s exactly what Gaz said too.” Soap muses, leaning back a little now and stretching his legs out in front of him. A much more relaxed posture. “So what about you, Stateside? You have any siblings growing up?”

A smile tugs at your lips as the faces of your brother and sister flash through your mind. “An older brother and a younger sister. My brother was adopted from South Korea, and his name is Kim and my sister’s name is Rozlin.”

It was Soap’s turn to be surprised now. “Huh, I always pictured you as the youngest, not a middle child.”

“And why is that?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t say cause we said we’d be nice to each other.” He’s dodging the question, but he still answered your question without answering it.

“That’s such an older brother thing to say.”

Soap chuckles softly at your response, and the conversation pauses for a moment. There’s a few beats of silence, Soap seeming to be lost in his thoughts. He gazes back to you shortly though, changing the topic.

“You miss America and being home with them? It’s gotta hard being in a completely different country than the rest of your family.”

You hum softly, a slight frown on your face. It has been a while since you’ve seen your siblings— about a year now. You were sadly used to not seeing much of them anymore now though. Being in the military for a few years now, you didn’t get to be home often with them. You only really saw them on holidays or through FaceTime calls. The last time you’d seen them was through such a call before you’d transferred overseas. The last time in person had been for a sadder event you didn’t want to currently think about.

“Yeah…” You trail off, trying to find a way to explain your feelings to Soap’s question.

Soap frowns as you trail off, his expression going from light and playful to a touch more serious. “You don’t miss home?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head. “I do. I mean, America is my home, and I will always love my siblings. But this life changes you. I can never go back to being a civilian, and it’s like the life I had in America before the military is one I will never have again.”

Soap hums softly, his brows slightly furrowed as he listens. “I get it. A bit of a love-hate relationship.”

“Exactly.” You sigh, a slightly sad smile on your face. “It’s hard to get us all together anyway. Kim also joined the forces, I’m in special-ops now, and last I knew, Rozlin is thinking of joining too.”

“Wow, quite the military family.” Soap chuckles. “Your parents must be proud.”

There it was. The moment those words leave Soap’s lips, a sharp pang of loss hits you, squeezing your heart. You smile sadly at the thought of your parents, trying to push the emotions down. “They were.” You nod, trying to keep it short, but Soap’s curiosity was piqued.

“Were?” He asks slowly, making you sign. Gently, you start to pick at the blades of grass around you, trying to get the words out.

“My… My parents died like a year ago. I guess closer to a year and a half now.” You bite the inside of your cheek, continuing to pick at the grass, but also watching out of the corner of your eye as Soap sits up more.

“Oh God… States, I’m so sorry to hear that.” He says, frowning at you.

“It’s fine. Really. I mean, I’ve have time to process it.” You try to give him a smile to let him know you really were alright, but your eyes still held the sadness of losing someone you love.

The news of their death had been a complete shock to you. Your Sergeant at the time had called you into his office in the middle of a drill one morning to break the news to you. It didn’t sink in right away. You’d denied their death the entire flight back to your hometown. It was only when you entered the funeral hall, and your sister came running to you, her body trembling with sobs as she buried her face in your shoulder, that the weight of the loss finally hit you.

That was the last time you’d been under the same roof with both of your siblings. It was the last time you’d been to your childhood hometown. The last time you’d stepped foot in your childhood home.

“Can I asked what happened?” Soap asks softly, breaking you away from your thoughts.

“Car accident. Drunk driver. Going too fast and hit them head on.” You pick at a few more blades of grass, trying your hardest to fight back tears. God how much you still resented that other driver. The one who got to live.

Soap sighs, looking down and not saying anything for a moment as he takes in what you’ve just told him. “That’s horrible.” He finally says after a moment. “I… I know what’s it like. My uh… my mum also died in a car accident when I was young.” He says slowly, and you instantly look over at him.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through something like that.” You say gently, resting a hand on his knee. You can feel your heart breaking for him. “How did… what happened?” You ask gently, not wanting to dig too much if it was a hard topic for him.

“Don’t really know.” Soap says, looking down at your hand on his knee. “She went out for something in the next town over and never came back. The next morning, they found her car had swerved off road and smashed into a tree. She wasn’t speeding, she didn’t do drugs, wasn’t drinking. Probably alive after she hit the tree and bled out…”

He clears his throat, his eyes instantly becoming glossy. Growling a little, he sniffs and wipes at one of his eyes. “Still not over it.” He chuckles, trying to hide his hurt. “That day changed everything for me. My mum was the kindest and most incredible woman...”

He trails off again, his voice wavering near the end. He was clearly struggling. You give his knee a reassuring squeeze, but he doesn’t look back at you. He keeps his focus trained on the ground.

“Could you tell me about her?” You ask softly. A small smile flickers on Soap’s face, just barely noticeable. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then nods slowly. You can see him steady himself before he starts to speak.

“She was the most loving, understanding person you could ever meet,” Soap begins, his voice softening. “It’s hard to put into words who she was, but everything about her just… beautiful.” His eyes grow distant as he speaks, gaze drifting toward the stream once more. He’s caught up in some kind of memory, one you don’t wish to interrupt.

A moment later, he shifts his gaze back to you. “You remember that story I told you earlier? About how I ran into the woods when I found out I was getting a sister?”

You nod.

“Well, it was my mum who came and found me afterwards. She always knew exactly what to do to make me feel better. I remember she brought me some shorties, which were my absolute favorite. They still are, I love those things.” Soap chuckles softly before continuing with his story.

“We didn’t talk right away. She just sat with me, and we listened to the water together. Just the two of us. It’s funny, I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, but I remember we talked until the sun went down. And when we got home, she tucked in and told me, ‘John, no matter what, you’ll always be my boy. You’ll always have a place in this family, and no one can take that from you.�� She told me that having a sister wouldn’t change that, and that being a big brother meant having someone who’d look up to me, someone I could protect.”

His voice softens as he adds, “She taught me that love wasn’t something that got divided—it just grew. That stuck with me. Made me feel better about everything. Like I wasn’t losing anything but gaining something special.

Whenever I think about home, my home before my dad met Annette and remarried, or when I see something like this stream, I think of her. I’d give anything to sit and talk with her by the stream at home again. Just one more time.”

When he finishes, you’re left utterly speechless. His recollection about his mother is so touching, so sweet, and so heartfelt—nothing like the Soap you knew. You’ve never seen this side of him before, not even around the other members of the 141.

Your heart aches for him, the pain in his words is palpable, and you can see it in his eyes as he gazes longingly at the flowing water. You never imagined that you and Soap would share such a traumatic loss. In a strange way, it makes you feel closer to him. You’re touched that he would share something so personal with you. Something that made him vulnerable.

Without you even realizing it, a single tear slides down your cheek. You only notice it when Soap brushes it away. His touch pulls you back to the present, and you focus on his eyes, which hold tears of their own. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes expressing an understand.

His thumb lingers on your cheek for just a second longer, his touch gentle. When he finally pulls his hand back, the corners of his mouth twitch into a small, bittersweet smile. The silence between you feels heavy, but not uncomfortable—more like a shared space where words aren’t necessary.

You take a deep breath, looking back to the stream, able to image John and his mother sitting there. “Your mother sounds like she was a real treasure.” You feel like your words aren’t enough. There’s nothing you can say to tell Soap how saddened you are by hearing about the loss of this mother. How great she sounded.

It’s enough to bring a smile to Soap’s face though. The longing is still in his eyes, but you know it’s a look that will never fully go away. But there’s also something else there too—a glimmer of happiness. Pride that you think his mother is just an incredible as the way he’s described her.

“I’m sure your parents were just as loving and incredible as my mum was.” Soap says softly. “They raised one hell of daughter.”

His words hit you hard, much harder than you expected. You’re brought to tears once more, watching them quickly well up in your line of sight, and you need to bite your cheek to keep from breaking down. Soap’s words touched your heart. You can’t be more grateful for them, but are unable to express the true extent of their impact. All you can manage to a nod and choked out, “thank you…”

Soap’s smile is gentle, understanding. He reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You squeeze back just as tightly, silently supporting each other as you listen to the slow rush of water from the stream.

Soap holds your hand the entire time you look out to the water together. A pleasant silence falls between you, but Soap eventually breaks it, letting go of your hand as he does.

“We should eat, huh?” He chuckles, his tone a tough lighter now. You’re almost relieved though to move on to something else. There was only so much you could take talking about death.

“Yeah, yeah, we should.” You agree, watching as Soap turns to grab the backpack. He unzips and starts to rifle through its contents. “What’s on the menu for today?” You ask, trying to peak over into the bag to see what he’s grabbed.

“Today, we have a fine selection of…” He pulls out two MREs. “Homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken and homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken.” He lists, pausing between pulling each one out and holding them up for you to see.

You make a face, wanting to gag at what was probably the most unappetizing MRE there is. To be fair, it wasn’t horrible. If you were in a pinch, starving out in the middle of nowhere, freezing while you huddled under a tent in the middle of a downpour, or had eaten the same thing for a week straight, it would taste incredible. But currently, not starving, dry, and having eaten nothing but bland foods for the past five days, it sounded horrible.

“We didn’t have anything else?” You ask, wondering why he’d grabbed what he most likely also thought was the most bland and boring MRE kit there was.

Soap gives you a small shrug. “We’ve gone through every other MRE except this one. We’ve got one beef ravioli and one jalapeño beef patty left, but those were the last of the decent ones. I thought we might want to save them for tomorrow, so we don’t have to eat this mush for the rest of our time here.” He explains, handing the unappealing, brown packaged meal over to you.

You scowl down at it. “I think I’d almost rather starve than eat this.” You admit, turning the package over and inspecting it in disdain.

“It’s better when you have hot sauce you can put on it.” Soap says, already tearing open his kit and dumping the contents out.

You reluctantly open yours, but not before giving him a look. “Hot sauce in what is essentially chicken noodle soup? That sounds disgusting.”

Soap shrugs. “It gives it something interesting besides just blandness.” He says matter-o-factly, pausing in tearing open his food to dig back through the backpack. He comes up with your canteens and hands you yours. You can heat up your food with it and make the broth.

“I’ll keep that it mind.” You really have no intention of trying the weird mixtures he’s suggesting though. Hopefully, though unrealistically, you’d never have to eat this MRE again.

Resigning yourself to the unappetizing lunch in front of you, you tear open the MRE with a resigned sigh, already dreading the bland taste you know is coming. As you work on opening the package and sorting all the different packets, you glance back at Soap. “So, when did you join the force?” you ask, genuinely interested in learning more about Soap’s past, but also eager for the distraction from the meal.

“I joined when I was eighteen. Tried to enlist before then by lying about my age, but they figured it out and rejected my application.” Soap says, which makes you giggle. It sounded like something he would do.

“Excited about joining I see.” You muse, watching as Soap carefully pours water into the heating pouch and slides the meal packet inside. He props it against the backpack to let it heat up.

“Yeah… something like that.” He mutters, his tone seeming to shift just the slightest bit. It was enough to make you pause, but he continues on. “But I got in at eighteen. I was selected for the 22nd Regiment.”

You nod a little bit, deciding to brush off his brief shift in tone for now. “So what did you do in the 22nd?” You ask, filling your own heating pouch to get your food warm. All you really knew about the 22nd Regiment was that it some British infantry group.

“I was a part of an elite squadron that specialized in stuff like covert reconnaissance, counter-terrorism, and hostage rescues.” He explains, watching as you filled the bag up and prep it. Once it’s ready, he motions for you to give it to him, and he sets it up against the backpack next to his. “I did eight years there and then when I was twenty-six, I was doing training in Hereford, and Price was the evaluator. He saw a lot of potential in me or something, pushed me in my training, and when selection came, I passed. Was in the SAS after that. Youngest candidate to ever pass selection.”

You knew that about him already. It’d been in his file. You remember reading his file on the plane ride over to their base and being so impressed. He hadn’t just scraped by either, he got the highest marks possible on each phase of the test.

“I remember reading that in your file on the flight over.” You smile. “Made it all the more intimidating to join the team. Had one guy who was youngest to join the SAS, one whose entire file was reacted due to the work he did, a highly decorated Sergeant, and a seasoned Captain.”

Soap laughs softly at that. “Yeah, still didn’t keep you away, though.” Soap teases, earning himself an eye roll and a gentle shove.

It makes him laugh even more, and it’s strange to hear him joke about something like that for once. Normally when he made comments about stuff like wanting you to leave or wishing you hadn’t joined, he meant it. This time he seemed like he was joking. There was no hidden edge to his words.

“I had to sign the contract before they let me read up about you guys.” You joke back, playing along. Though that was true, you really did have to sign a contract first. You weren’t allow much information about the team unless you agreed to go. The only thing they really informed you about was the basic role of the position you’d be taking.

“We got your file the second you signed up.” Soap says, checking on his food by touching the back of his hand to the bag. His food must have been warm enough cause he starts to take it out of the heating pack. “Didn’t even really know we were getting another person until Price dropped it all in front of us at a meeting. Had only a few days to get ready for you.”

That was new information to you. You figured the guys would have known they were getting someone new long before you signed on. At the same time though, it made sense. It was safer to keep information like that between only a few people, and with the enemies you knew your current Task Force has made over the years, it was probably good not to have word get out they were growing the team.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you notice Soap is handing you your meal bag. He mutters a, “here” and you take it from him.

“Oh, thanks.” You mumble back, touching the bag carefully to make sure it was warm enough. It felt decent enough to eat, so you pulled it out of the bag.

As you do that, Soap has already getting his open and is looking back to you. “So, where were you stationed before joining us? I know it was in your file somewhere, but I forgot.” Soap continues on in conversation, mixing his food a bit.

“The Green Berets.” You answer, pulling the rip-strip on the top of the food pouch. The smell of chicken hits you instantly, and the sight of the noodles is already unappealing. “Outside of basics and the platoon I was assigned to, I’ve been with them my whole career. Until now of course with transferring to a Task Force.”

Soap hums softly as he listens to you and takes his first bite of the chicken veggie noddle MRE. Watching him eat it makes you shutter, though he seemed unbothered.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Soap mutters through a mouthful of food, his words come out muffled as he chews. He doesn’t bother to finish chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “Did some training with them back in the day.”

You wrinkle your nose in distaste, watching as he continues to take another bite of the noodles. He hadn’t even finished his first bite before adding another one. You never really noticed the way he ate until now.

“You know, the chicken noodles are bad enough on their own. You really don’t need to make it worse by talking with your mouth full.” You frown.

Soap chuckles at you, though he at least swallows before speaking again. “At least I’m eating it. You haven’t even touched yours.” He points towards your untouched meal bag with his spoon.

You glance down at the bag of unappetizing noodles and sigh. “Can you blame me? This stuff is revolting.”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite. “Come on, it’s not that bad. The faster you eat it, the sooner you’ll be done suffering.”

You can't argue with that logic. As much as you hate to admit it, Soap has a point. The faster you got the food down, the sooner it’d be over, and the less you would taste. It wasn’t like you weren’t capable of eating fast either. Back in bootcamp, you only had five minutes to eat sometimes. So you were more than capable of shoveling it down, you just preferred not to eat that way.

Sighing to yourself, shoulders sagging, you reluctantly scoop up a small bite and force it into your mouth. The taste isn’t terrible, just bland, but the texture is what gets you. A shudder runs through you as you chew, and you can’t help but gag slightly as the mushy noodles slide down your throat.

The whole time you struggle through the bite, Soap watches with wide eyes, his expression shifting between horror and concern. When you finally swallow and chase the taste with a swig of water, he shakes his head. “Steamin' Jesus, that was fucking painful to watch.” He mutters.

You shutter once more, the sensation of the food sliding down your throat lingering for a moment. “I’d rather eat a raw fish from the lake we bathe in than finish this.” You complain, scowling down at the still very full bag.

Soap lets out a small huff that resembles a laugh as he turns back to his soggy noodles. “We could probably go fishing and catch a few. Cook them over the fire instead of eating them raw like some deranged woodsperson.”

Your eyes widen, and you snap your head toward him so fast it nearly startles him. “Could we really do that?!” you ask, barely containing your excitement.

You have been eating MREs or bread for the past fives days for every meal. Cooking fish, real food, instead of eating the bland, processed, and sometimes unidentifiable sludge that somehow passes for a meal in those packets would be a welcome change.

Soap still looks a little shocked, blinking at you before nodding his head slowly. “Uh, yeah.. it’s really not that hard to go fishing.” He answers slowly, and his confirmation just makes you more excited.

“Why the hell haven’t we been fishing this entire time?! Can we go fishing? Please?”

“Well…” Soap hesitates. “I mean we’d have to take the time to make some spears, and then you need to descale them and take all the bones out, and-“

“We can do those things.” You argue, your voice hopeful.

“What are you gonna season the fish with? And what about this stuff?” He holds up his half-eaten MRE. “We just gonna waste it?”

You huff, sitting back slightly. “We can use salt, cause I know we have that back at the cabin. I saved some packets from a different MRE in case of emergency. And really? There is no way that you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you’d rather eat that disgusting shit instead of fresh fish. I know you’d have no problem with tossing that for real food.”

You both stare at each other, neither one of you moving or blinking. Soap is stubbornly holding his ground, but you know him well enough to know he hates what he’s eating too. He just toying with you.

When you raise an eyebrow at him expectantly, it breaks him. He lets out a huff, a smirk quickly forming on his face. “Yeah, alright. This is pretty fucking disgusting.” He agrees with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure my stomach was gonna reject it if I tried to take another bite.”

“Does this mean we’re gonna go fishing?” You ask, a grin quickly spreading across your face.

Soap looks at you, his expression softening in a way that sends a flutter through your chest. His lips curve into a relaxed smile, his shoulders loosening as the tension eases from his posture. His stunningly blue eyes, usually so guarded and intense, are soft and filled with a mix of warmth and something deeper—a tenderness that catches you off guard. Affection?

“Yeah, we can go fishing.” Soap laughs, his voice light with amusement, the gentle look in his eyes lingering.

Your excitement bubbles over, pushing aside any further analysis of his gaze. With a grin, you quickly seal up your MRE, stow your water bottle, and begin packing. “Oh God, it’s gonna taste so good. I can already smell it cooking.” You ramble on, earning a laugh from him as he starts to pack up as well.

After everything is packed away and the backpack is zipped, Soap stands and slings it onto his shoulder. By the time he’s fully upright, you’ve already taken off. He watches as you practically bound off towards the part of the stream where you crossed earlier. He watches you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips, then shakes his head before hurrying to catch up.

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll

[crimsoncandy04]

Good day! Tomorrow or later I should say because it's already 10:41 pm, it's my birthday! Dec 29, can you please make Scaramouche is obsessed with us? Like OBSESSED OBSESSED, make this as my birthday gift please! 🥹

As you wish. (I can't say no. I'm now bound by birthday law. When the special boy or girl makes a birthday request, one simply MUST comply. This is what the ancient texts state. Otherwise the stars will declare thee an absolute asshole for at least a year.)

Happy birthday! I hope this is to your liking ;) and may you see many more yearly returns after this!

(I really tried. Usually I take a while to write because my inspiration is slow to come and quick to leave. But I really wanted to give you something. I hope this doesn't read as rushed.)

TW: Paimon abuse.

❤️💜🖤❤️💜🖤❤️💜🖤❤️💜🖤❤️💜

Recently a bunch of strange things had been happening to you and Traveler. First a bunch of your supplies had been discovered missing one morning (Traveler had blamed themselves and believed they had probably just neglected to notice some stuff falling out of their backpack while fighting), but a few hours later, both of you were swore you were being followed too (Traveler could recognize human footsteps but every time they tried to turn around and go scout the area for thieves, there was no one around), after that a few days later, you would discover that your favorite sweater had vanished from your tent, Traveler had their tent knocked over completely one night, and even woke up with their clothing sewn into the floor of it the next day.

If you didn't know any better, you'd have guessed a vengeful spirit was stalking you both. And that these cruel and disturbing pranks were its way of exacting revenge.

But that couldn't be possible right?

Thankfully the activity had ceased for a few days after the last misfortune had befallen Traveler, and both of you had hoped that you could rest easy before finally heading to explore the nation of geo for the first time ever!

It was an exciting idea. However, the night before you two were supposed to set off, something happened again and this time it was serious.

Paimon had been hurt.

It wasn't serious thankfully.

But someone had been cruel enough to think that chucking a rock at her head would be funny and after picking up a bleeding and weeping Paimon from the grass, Traveler had had enough and grabbed their sword and said they were going to catch this monster once and for all. They then left Paimon in your care as they left the campsite and headed into the trees. A look of pure unbridled hatred and silent fury in their golden eyes.

And so after that, you spent a little while sitting next to the tiny sleeping fairy inside Traveler's tent and watching over her.

You hadn't been expecting to suddenly hear footsteps outside of your own empty tent across the small clearing sometime later after nightfall.

You became eerily still.

Something didn't feel right.

It was too quiet.

Why was Traveler just hanging around outside?

You slowly got up and headed for the opening in the tent to see if your friend was okay, but just as you were about to pull back the fabric and look out, something in your very spirit made you stop dead.

Call it intuition.

Or a gut feeling.

But something in you was telling you to stay quiet and not let whoever was out there hear you.

So was this a thief?

You instinctively reached for your dagger in the pocket of your coat. You weren't the fighter here. This was true. You were the healer to Traveler's warrior but that's what kept you guys compatible on the battlefield and friends everywhere else.

However that didn't mean you didn't know how to stab someone in self defense if you needed to.

A strange soft yet sinister voice suddenly caught your attention from outside.

"Your friend has gone to play hero again. Leaving you to care for that...thing."

That voice was familiar. But where had you heard it before?

You clutched your weapon tighter.

"They're foolish. Leaving someone like you to care for the injured. Someone who... can't even manage to grasp their weapon properly."

You barely had time to scream before you realized that the voice was in the tent with you. Strong hands moving to cover your mouth and wrap around your waist as you feel someone's cool breath against your ear.

"Don't fight me. I'd hate to start off on the wrong foot by stunning you." The voice cooed in your ear. You had been trying to turn your head and kick. But your attacker sensed your intention and easily knocked you unconscious with one swift strike to your head.

You woke up later laying in a strange bedroom. The scent of incense and a strange perfume filling the air.

You try to sit up but something prevents you. You feel with your hands and discover that you are quite literally chained to the bedframe behind you. A thick metal collar and chain leash secure you in place. You can roll over but that's about it.

"Sleep well?" The same voice from earlier asks. You look around the dim candle-lit bedroom and see a barely illuminated figure standing at the foot of the bed.

"Why did you bring me here? Who even are you?" You ask cautiously. Afraid of accidentally angering your kidnapper in your defenseless state.

"You caught my interest. So I decided to keep you."

"Are you serious? You can't do that! What about my friend? He'll wonder if I'm dead!"

The figure was on you in the blink of an eye. It was then that you finally see him clearly.

A beautiful young man with thick indigo hair and eyes framed by elegant maroon colored eyeliner. He was breathtaking.

And suddenly you almost didn't care that he was sitting on your stomach and pinning your hands on either side of your head.

"Don't talk about those insignificant beings. Never again. from now on only talk about me okay?" You didn't know if this was jealousy or ego from the way he said it but you really didn't wanna push your luck. However, he seemed to misunderstand.

"I wasn't insinuating anything. Traveler is like my sibling-gah!" Suddenly the pale man's hand wrapped around your throat.

"of course it's them. That annoying pest is always ruining things for me. Listen closely starlight, because I'm only going to warn you once..." He leans down and whispers in your ear.

"I better not ever hear that name leave your mouth after today. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I need to. Don't push me." He then loosens his hold but doesn't pull away entirely.

Instead shifting in his position and laying on top of you before kissing you deeply. You moan a little as you feel him shove his tongue in your mouth and move to spread your legs so he can be between them. His hardness already catching your attention as you feel him grind against you almost roughly.

"relax. Don't be nervous. I promise I'll make this hurt in all the right ways only~" the man teased as he broke the kiss and began to leave small kisses on your chest and stomach.

Why did this feel good? This was a bad man. You didn't even know his name!

You feel him tugging your underwear aside and giving your clit a gentle lick.

It was enough to make you audibly gasp.

"look at you, making just the most disgustingly cute noises~" he gives your clit more attention. Holding your thighs apart as he sucked and licked at your precious nub even as you started shaking.

"ah~ suck harder ~ please mister!" You feel him hum against your cunt as he hears your wanton plea.

"it's Scaramouche sweetheart. Use it." He then continued to tease your pussy with his lips and tongue as you started to feel your insides flutter.

"Scaramouche~ don't stop! Fuck this is amazing...!" You try to squeeze your thighs but scara keeps them forced apart still. You're stuck as you feel him suddenly shove his tongue deep into your pussy. Tasting your soft and moist inner walls as you suddenly cry out. This sensation pushes you over the edge completely and you end up climaxing harder than you ever had in your entire life.

Scaramouche licks the side of his mouth and grins mischievously at you from between your legs. Mumbling something about how adorable you look when at his mercy.

He isn't finished though.

You watch as Scaramouche begins to remove a few layers of his clothes until he gets to his shorts. Easily tugging them down and freeing his cock afterwards. Your eyes widen.

There was definitely a reason he tried to get you excited first.

Scaramouche was huge.

It felt like a threat on your life actually.

Especially when he teased his tip at your entrance and then finally began to slide more of his enormous shaft into you.

You try to say something but he quickly covers your mouth with his hand.

"shh...you can handle it. Relax."

You wince a little as you feel your body struggling to accommodate Scara's dick. Yet once it's finally in, it doesn't feel as uncomfortable. He gives you a few seconds to adjust before pulling nearly all the way back out and then suddenly slamming into you.

It takes him kissing you again to keep you from screaming as both pleasure and pain overwhelmed every inch of your body.

Why? You were so confused right now. This shouldn't feel good yet...

"scara you're too big! Ah~" he doesn't let you finish before thrusting against your sweet spot. HARD.

He has a smug look on his face.

"I knew you could take it. Fuck. You feel better than I imagined~" he groaned as he wrapped his arms around you and began to pound deeper into your aching cunt. Making you practically mewl as you clung to him as well.

"I waited for so long, for just the right moment...and finally after making that bastard leave...I could have you ~" he grunted as he placed another messy kiss on your lips.

You felt both good and bad shivers run down your spine at his words.

It had been him?

Scaramouche had been the one tormenting you and Traveler for the past week? Why?

He seemed to read your mind.

"because you caught my attention. You... interested me. And I decided to keep you. You're not leaving. Don't ever try." He emphasized his words with an almost painful thrust against your cervix.

You moaned uncontrollably as he then did it again and again.

"This body is mine. I'll use it how I please. I'll breed this pretty cunt every day if I want~"

You feel yourself getting close again.

Why were his words turning you on so much?

Fuck you wanted him to ruin you.

He quickened his pace after a few minutes and you knew he was getting close as well.

His possessive gaze fell on your flushed face and bouncing tits and for a second you swore you saw something reminiscent of affection in his eyes. Yet it was quickly replaced by coldness again and lust.

So that was why...?

Scaramouche loved you...

Maybe that was why this was bearable to you.

Did you perhaps feel a little attracted to him as well? You looked at him through watery eyes and felt your heart race upon seeing his piercing gaze meet yours.

Yes. You did like him. At least a little.

Scaramouche finished inside you not long after this realization of yours. You ended up cumming together and after that he went to actually lay beside you for a bit. Pulling you against his chest as he played with your hair and just seemed to get lost in the feeling of you on his arm.

This wasn't so bad.

The bedroom you were locked in was rather spacious and extravagant looking. You were laying upon soft silken sheets and the perfume from earlier made you feel relaxed and comfortable where you lay.

He could have locked you in a basement.

Clearly it wasn't that bad here.

And Scaramouche wasn't bad either.

You hugged him tightly and fell asleep in his arms.

This psychotic stalker may have gone about his feelings the wrong way. But he seemed to not be a danger to you.

And so for now, you reasoned...

That you could love him too.

❤️💜🖤❤️💜🖤❤️💜🖤❤️💜🖤❤️💜

[andreaheartscats]

Hi! Can you make a fluff fanfic/headcanons of Xiao and gn!reader with physical disabilities/chronic pain? Thank you. (This was really embarrassing for me to ask, I'm sorry 😭🙏)

Of course i can! Such a lovely request :) i hope i don't disappoint!!

i apologize for any grammer mistakes i made, english isn't my first laungage after all! i hope you enjoy ^^<3

Xiao and GN!Reader with Physical Disabilities/Chronic Pain (fluff headcanons)

Xiao is extremely observant, so he quickly picks up on your physical limitations or when you're in pain. He doesn’t ask too many questions at first, respecting your boundaries, but he makes mental notes of things that seem to help or hurt you.

He’s not the type to push you too hard, but he does encourage you to do what feels comfortable. If you’re struggling with something, he’ll offer help without making you feel incapable, always phrasing it as, “Allow me,” or, “Let me ease your burden.”

Xiao’s adeptness with adeptal energy means he often uses it to soothe your pain. He’ll sit beside you, placing a cool hand on the area that hurts, and channel a soft, calming energy that eases the tension. If it’s chronic, he’ll do it regularly, without you even having to ask.

Whether it’s walking through Liyue Harbor or exploring the wilds, Xiao always adjusts his pace to match yours. If you need to stop and rest, he’ll stand guard nearby, scanning the area for any threats. He’ll even find a comfortable spot for you to sit and offer his hand to help you down.

Xiao learns what environments are easier for you to navigate and avoids areas that could be too challenging. If you want to visit places with difficult terrain, he’ll scout ahead to make sure it’s safe or carry you through the tougher spots.

He takes the time to learn about your condition, asking subtle questions or observing how you manage your daily life. Over time, he becomes an expert at anticipating your needs, whether it’s finding a walking stick that suits your height or carrying a small pouch of remedies you might need.

On better days, Xiao tries to bring a bit of joy to your life. He might show you a hidden field of Qingxin flowers or use his adeptal abilities to create small, harmless light shows. Seeing you smile or laugh is one of the few things that makes him feel truly at peace.

Xiao doesn’t see your disabilities or chronic pain as a burden; instead, he admires your resilience and cherishes the moments you share. He’s steadfast in his support, offering a quiet but constant reminder: “I am here for you, always.”

[idliketobeatree]

dead boy detectives characters as art objects and sculptures; extended ---

hello, i remembered i made some subjective explanations and notes on few of my choices for this post, and i thought some folks might enjoy it. soo let's get into it.

1.

monty finch

author: anders krisár

pretty self-explanatory; it's a moulded male torso with visible inprints on its skin.

anders krisár’ artistry explores the themes of loss, separation, and the condition of the psyche through the lens of a human body in duality: perfectionism meets unsettlement, skin meets marble and bronze and polyester, to create sculptures spanning geological time far beyond the living's capabilities.

monty's creation by esther was already stripped of any human agency. "he was made a boy, not a person", small, almost doll-sized, with a singular purpose: to seduce and entice the chosen dead boy into their doom. the naked skin and specifically the position of its arms are mildly erotic, but in a way that makes your skin crawl. the imprints are intimate, placed possesive; notice the thumbs digging close to especially sensitive areas like nipples and the belly button.

the latter seems to connect the "creator" to the subject, the navel here as a symbol of cruel, invasive motherhood. the fact that the torso is cut off in the middle and at the neck furthers the uncanny valley feeling of a young male body, but then again. this is a realistic portrayal. so was it ever a person? what does it have inside to make dents so profound? how deep you can press until it breaks?

--- i'm leaving out crystal and edwin (for now?), but @nicheoverhere brilliantly noticed that it was the same author for both. that was intentional! because glen martin taylor is all about taking kintsugi, which is a beautiful art form of repairing fine china and generally delicate things with veins of precious metals, but with materials like— nails. scissors. barbed wire. all ugly. the repair after a great shattering is seldom pretty after all, they really are similar in this regard. ---

2.

charles rowland

author: robert hudson

okay, strap in. this funky dreamy world belongs to robert hudson, and i picked it for charles rowland because it's all first impressions. the colours? the composition? they give you the 80s vibes, almost; like something a kid would design if you asked them what a time machine would look like. it could probably move in several ways. the pieces seem mismatched, but hold themselves together surprisingly well. or maybe you underestimate it?

it's neither big nor small. you can't tell its size at all. it's a bit overwhelming to look at, at first, and at second, and after a while, but it carries that comfortable familiarity and nostalgia for— well, nothing in particular, because the longer you look, the sadder its past seems. the bold pops of contrasting colour are fighting for your attention. they want you to like it! and yet, the major material seems to be just. rusted steel. made from tools.

and look at that botched up sphere, it wants so badly to be a perfect sphere and it knows it'll never be one. fine!! perhaps it could be a football ball instead! or maybe a head. if you close your eyes, that is. and this facing-up horseshoe? a lucky charm, made to collect good luck and keep it from falling out cause god, it needs it.

---

3.

niko sasaki

author: justin cloud

---

niko sasaki, now how do i describe her? let's start by saying— she's cleary a her. this one is a she. and there's something to be said about blooming, and femininity, and delicacy, because pink is a hopeful girly colour and a surprise and a delight.

what are you doing in a gallery, little flower, shouldn't you be at home? in a field? look how pretty you are! mind you, of course there's something wrong with her as well, but you're not sure if that is because someone messed it up, or because of a different entity alltogether. was it always half-electric? its elegance seems purposeful— the iridescent metal fits all too well with the white-pink petals— but also uncanny. and oh suddenly you can't stop looking at the stigma from which a pollen should release aaany time now.

when i look at her, at her black artificial stem and the small leaves imitating the real ones, i wonder if she doesn't want to lure me into a trap. is it her fault?

the beautiful petals seem like the only thing left real of the flower. whichever way she turns, it will probably mean— death. and flowers are ephemeral. what is a flower mounted to a wall, fortified with steel, connected with cables and enfused with electrical energy, then?

i think she's a self-preserving survivor. ---

4.

the night nurse

author: elizabeth turk

---

now. the night nurse.

of course it's the only piece in the collection where the background needed to be dark. no one here is older than her. there is no inoffensive, fading-into-background white for this absolute pillar of truth. or maybe something like a totem, quite protective in nature. and it's terrifying, 'cause you're immediately hit with the feeling that you're looking at something out of this realm, something you're not supposed to witness. the perspective is all wrong. is it downwards or upwards? why does it seem unstable when the pieces are so perfectly centered and seemingly well-balanced? child, you should calm down, it's not like you will destroy it with a stronger puff of air. will you?

this sculpture is called "tipping point — echoes of extinction", and it's actually a mix of technology and sculpture and sound, with elegant visualizations of the lost voices of birds and sea mammals. the author said it "was conceived in reverence to the astounding lives the species which envelop humans have lived and the mysterious ways they have contributed to our well-being. the shadows of their memory, whether a shape or a sound, have inspired this project." so the piece deals with death. moreover, it deals with murder. it records the harsh reality and makes sure the ones that suffered horribly at the hands of humans are, in a way, celebrated. but also— categorised. like epitaphs. the birdsong, once a living sign, is only visually represented by the lines of varying lenghts in 3D, and you can do nothing about it anymore, right, you can't bring back the dead, you can't help the innocent dying in any way other than— stacking them on top of each other and moving on.

---

so that's for now, i might someday write more if anyone's curious. :")

[lunarmango]

Flickering Lights

Demon Alastor x Human reader fic? ON IT. I'm so siked to make this a series and I hope who reads this enjoys this as much as I do. I wanna get into writing. (I don't write, I draw) and I was thinking of making a longer fic, the details were so hard to piece together. I really enjoy the concept of demon Al with human reader. So here we go!

Word Count: 2k

TW: None for now? Pretty mild stuff haha.

Chapter One: Moving in

New Orleans, Louisiana

1946

Where wandering spirits were said to roam, walk and explore more frequently, being an area where people would find it easier to communicate with them, or so you were told. You were convinced it's utter nonsense to be completely honest. The whole notion of spirits was so far fetched you just couldn't bring yourself to even fathom them. Though not opposed to being proved wrong.

It's been years, saving for a house. Your apartment was small, cheap and far too crowded with furniture and items you just can't let go of. From a suffocating apartment to a house. You were practically buzzing from excitement. Like, literally almost shaking.

A new chapter in your life.

When you walked in, you suck air through your teeth in anticipation, the cool air hitting your teeth invigorating you, fingers fumbling with the old metallic keys that jingled in response, finally able to slot the correct one in the door and push open the dark wood hastily, the hinges swinging and the door practically flying.

You winced at the loud thud when it slammed on the white painted brick wall. Taking a few deep breaths, you decided it was best if you didn't wreck your new house on the first day. You think you would actually cry if you did, and you were not willing to test that theory. Checking the wall where the door hit with a small grimace of anticipation, you close the door behind you, relieved to see the wall is fine, your face relaxing again as you take yet another deep breath through your nose.

House tour!

Kicking off your shoes at the entrance, you begin wandering from room to room, you take in the spacious kitchen and living room. Though it lacked a certain homey touch. But you were aware why. There was no furniture after all. You had a vision for the house. Just had to wait 3 days before you could make it happen and the furniture would arrive. You had big plans, that did not pair well with your lack of patience. You already had multiple shitty sketches of how you roughly wanted each room to look. The furniture is all you need, it'll arrive soon enough. Hopefully.

You're going to need to find a way to pass the time.

First things first, you still haven't explored the upstairs! Running your hand gingerly along the wooden railing as you hop upstairs, the hard floor creaking occasionally under your feet every few steps, you take a sharp left and step into the master bedroom. It was massive. You feel a grin etch at your face as you peek your head inside. You're definitely getting a king sized bed. With a nod you left the room, confident you were going to be a pro napper at least a month within getting your new bed.

You open the door to the bathroom. Spacious enough, room for a decent sized tub and shower. Although you never really saw the point in baths if you wanted to get clean. You step out and look into the spare bedroom. Maybe a potential study? That or the attic. You always were sure that the environment can heavily affect the quality of ones work.

Was such a big house going to make you feel small? Possibly alone? You scoffed to yourself. Who cares when you have such a house?! Expensive too. Ho ho you were going to have fun "subtly" showing off this house to your friends.

With a quick, dismissive peek to the spare room you turn on your heels, going up the stairs to the attic with cautious steps, the worn wooden panels making such loud noises in retaliation to your steps that you were afraid that they would give in. Your hand gently opens the rattly metallic doorknob and open the door, squinting only to see a small switch on the side of the door. You flick it on and hear the buzz of a weak warm light turning on above you, fully illuminating the room the best the small warm light can.

First thoughts? Dusty. Very Dusty. Every box, book and the long desk and chair at the end of the room practically black and gray from the abundance of dust. A sigh escaping your lips, realising just how long you were going to be cleaning for, a task you were not mentally prepared for yet. Making your way to the desk, you approached a large wooden desk, most of the surface blocked by a large panel with knobs, switches, dials and little doodads that slide up and down. The sliding doodads having small, mini light bulbs at the top of each. You look at the corners and edges of the panel, looking for an on switch or something.

Nothing.

It was probably unplugged?

Nevertheless, as foreign as the panel seemed to you, a surge of determination drives through you to figure it out. It seemed expensive. Whoever used this probably cared deeply for it, the text of the brand faded, showing the love and use the panel had been provided with. If it was so well used, you had to figure out just why it was loved so much.

To begin, you had to figure out just what it is. Turning it on seemed like the obvious option.

Crouching under the table to look to where the cables lead, you notice a microphone on the floor. Wrapping your hand just above the flat base of the microphone, feeling the coolness of the metal and the sandy texture of the dust between your skin and the metal, you try to lift it. You were suprised to find your hand faltering slightly at the sheer weight of the microphone, dropping forward onto your knees to provide a better position to pick it up in, using both hands to stand up and set it in front of the panel with more ease. It wasn't that heavy. But you didn't want to drop it. Wasn't this supposed to have headphones...?

Once more, you go down on all fours, looking under the desk, when no sign of somewhere to turn on the panel or headphones appears, you circle round to the back of the desk, finding a wire and an unplugged plug. With a small huff that caused far too much dust to fly in the air, triggering a cough from you. Slotting the plug in the panel above you hums to life and flickers on once more. A small hushed yes emerges from you as you slowly stand up, brushing the dust from your knees, then your hands.

You walk back in front of the desk, flipping some random switches for the hell of it, satisfying metallic clicks and clanks as a result of your tampering. Then proceeding to tap the microphone, you blow on it to rid it of the pesky dust, stepping back to let the dust fall.

You took a moment to appreciate just how expensive this radio setup must have been, so big and complicated it made your mind whirl just trying to decipher what each control did. You brush away some more of the dust from the panel, running your finger between the buttons, trying to look for labels, or some sort of guidance, only to find them worn out, white writing so etched and scratched at on the metallic reddish-brown surface that it was unreadable. A soft smile tugging at your lips in realisation of just how loved this equipment really was.

You’ve seen the basics of what a radio setup should look like, without having to remember the separate into bitty details of the control. Panels, a microphone. Where were the headphones? You look below the desk, bending at an uncomfortable angle to the shelves situated under the left of the desk.

Nothing.

Not like you could broadcast anything even if you wanted to. Why do they use the headphones? To listen to the sound of their own voice? How proud and snobby must one be to love their voice that much? An audible scoff from you. You know you wouldn’t be able to put up with anyone of the sort.

Using both hands, stabilising the microphone properly, you pick it up, with a smart smirk, looking at the empty wall you begin speaking to your imaginary viewers, mocking the accent radio people had to use to the best of your ability. “Hello my dear viewers! Welcome back to my boring ass show, talking about shit that probably serves as background noise” A snicker escapes your lips as your smirks stretches wider in amusement, gently putting the microphone back down.

Eager to make your made up show more believable, you move away from the desk, eyes scanning the worn wooden panels of the floor. Remembering you looking earlier you let out a hefty sigh. Were you really going to spend hard earned money for a few minutes of make-believe mucking about like a child?

Oh definitely.

Lost in thought, still staring at the floor, chuckling in thought a distinct noise snaps you out of the haze of your mind.

Click

You look over your shoulder to the direction of the noise, the desk, trying to place the exact location.

Another click

It was from the panel? You turn back to the panel, looking down on the panel as the clicks increase in frequency, switches being flicked, dials turned. A particular pattern caught your eye being the fact that during the abundance of alterations to the controls of the panel, no knob or slide was altered twice, almost if it was altering itself the clicking now a steady rhythm. What a ridiculous idea, as clueless as you were about the technology you were almost certain it wasn’t that advanced.

The clicks slowly come to a stop, one last slider slowly going upwards to a certain line before it stops completely.

“Eager to hear my voice?” You mutter under your breath, a dial slowly turning, one of your eyebrows quirking up in response. Spirits and ghosts don’t exist.

There’s always a what if.

What if they do exist?

What if you’re the first to fully realise this?

What if you’re living a ghost story?

After all, things moving on their own in the dusty attic of an old house was never a good sign.

Yeah no who were you kidding.

But just to make sure.

You bend at the waist, your lips as inch away from the crosshatched metal of the top of the microphone.

“Can you hear me?” You say in a teasing low purr, holding back a laugh in your lungs, helping to alleviate the tension you’re beginning to feel rising up in you, pressing in on the sides of your head. Jokes always help. Well. Not always. However you can’t exactly help it either.

A flicker of the small light bulbs, emitting a warm light above the sliding controls. You couldn’t help but still be sceptical. Your voice now has a newfound edge, the whole situation making you uncomfortable.

“You- can?”

Another flicker from the same small light bulbs.

A nervous laugh rumbling from your chest.

You had to figure this out, because you wouldn’t put going insane past you. Maybe a break from the attic would be good. Probably buy some headphones. As unsettling as the panel is, having the set incomplete irks you unnecessarily, and it was an enigma you couldn’t help but feel determined to figure out.

[sunny44]

Chapter 2 (Love is in Mallorca)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader

Warning: none

Summary: Y/n goes to Mallorca intending to leave her life behind, at least for a while. Then she meets a mysterious guy who makes this trip, to say the least, unforgettable.

Previous chapter

The next day, I woke up to the soft sunlight streaming into the hotel room. It was almost noon.

There was something calming about being in a new place, far from any obligations, where the only sounds I heard were those of seagulls and the distant murmur of the sea. But the truth was, even surrounded by beauty, I couldn’t stop thinking about the previous night.

I didn’t know anything about the man I met at the bar. He was just a casual encounter, someone who helped me when I needed it most, showing me a rare kindness. What intrigued me was the feeling that he knew exactly how to make me feel comfortable, as if he had experience dealing with awkward situations. But for some reason, he chose not to say much about himself.

I got up slowly, the memory of walking through the streets of Mallorca still fresh in my mind. I had promised myself not to get my hopes up, but part of me was eager to see him again. I took a quick shower, slipped into a light summer dress, and decided to explore more of the city before our possible reunion.

The streets of Mallorca were busier during the day. The outdoor markets were full of colors, smells, and sounds that filled all my senses. I passed stalls of fruit, hanging peppers, and local crafts, appreciating the vibrant simplicity of the place. I decided to get lost in the narrow streets, without any particular destination, just letting my feet guide me.

After a while, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. It was a message.

“Hey, want to take a walk on the beach?”

My heart skipped a little when I saw it was him. He hadn’t forgotten. I replied quickly, saying I’d be ready in a few minutes. I was excited, but there was also a small sense of nervousness growing inside me. A walk on the beach? That seemed a bit more intimate than a simple night exploring the city.

When I arrived at the meeting point, he was already there, wearing sunglasses and looking relaxed, as if life here was always slow, unhurried.

“Punctual,” he commented with a small smile when he saw me.

“I tried not to be late.” I smiled back, trying to hide how curious I was about him.

The beach wasn’t crowded, which was a pleasant surprise. We walked barefoot on the sand, while the sea gently lapped at our feet. The warm breeze played with my hair, and the salty smell of the water brought a peace I didn’t know I needed until I was there, with him, without having to worry about anything.

“How did you find this place?” I asked, looking around. The beach was more secluded than the tourist areas.

He shrugged, seeming amused by my curiosity.

“I have my secrets. I like to come here when I want some peace, away from the crowds.” He paused, looking at me. “I think you needed that too.”

“Yes, I did. Thank you for last night… and for today, you’ve really made this trip much better.”

“No need to thank me. You’re also making my time here much more enjoyable,” he replied with a genuine smile. “I needed the company too.”

We continued walking in silence for a while, until he suddenly stopped and looked out at the horizon.

“What brought you to Mallorca?” he asked, this time with genuine curiosity, as if he was finally ready to know more about me.

I hesitated. It wasn’t a hard question, but the answer made me feel vulnerable.

“I guess I needed to escape. Escape from a routine that didn’t feel like mine, from a cycle of relationships that never ended well, and come to a place where I don’t have to be myself… And you?”

He looked at me for a moment, as if deciding how much of an answer he could give.

“Something similar, maybe. Life can be... a bit intense sometimes. I needed a break too, something far from what I know. A chance to just be normal.”

That vague answer only made me more curious. Who was he? And why did I feel like there was so much more behind that casual smile and relaxed demeanor? Something about him made me feel comfortable, but at the same time, I knew he was hiding behind a wall.

“I saw you at the bar last night, and you looked… lost,” he continued, breaking the silence. “I kept wondering what made you be there alone, trying to order a drink without much luck.”

“Oh, that…” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “I think I was just frustrated that no matter how hard I try, Spanish always seems to slip away from me.”

He laughed too, that light laugh that seemed so natural.

“It takes time. But I think you did well, all things considered.”

The conversation flowed with surprising ease. With each new exchange, I felt more comfortable with him. Still, there was a part of me that knew something was being left out. Maybe it was just my imagination, but the way he spoke about his own life, without many details, made it seem like he had something to hide.

After a while, we reached a part of the beach where there were rocks and a small cove. He sat on one of the rocks, looking out at the sea, and I sat next to him, the sun shining above us.

“I really like it here,” he said after a long silence.

“So do I,” I agreed, feeling a strange connection to the place. “It feels like time passes differently here.”

“Maybe because you don’t have to be who people expect you to be here.”

His words hit me with an unexpected truth. I didn’t know who he was, but for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel the need to prove anything to anyone.

The sun began to slowly set on the horizon, and we sat there in silence, watching the natural spectacle. His closeness beside me, the sound of the waves gently crashing on the shore, all of it made me feel a peace I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

When we finally got up to leave, he offered me a ride back to the hotel. I accepted, knowing that the day had been special, but still wondering who he really was.

As he dropped me off at the entrance of the hotel, he smiled again, that smile that held secrets.

“Maybe tomorrow I can show you an even more special place.”

I smiled back, curious and intrigued.

“Maybe.”

He waved and drove off, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the certainty that something about him remained a mystery.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Beach day”

Next chapter

Tag list: @lieslostinsilence @iloveallmyboys

@r4zberrygirl @hoya122 @sid-is-gr8

@marvel-ous-miss-maisie @barcelonaloverf1life

@willowsnook @barcelonaloverf1life

[undersprite]

2024 Comic Contest Results

Before we get started, I would like to extend a personal thank you to everyone who created an entry for the contest this year. Although we only got four entries this year, those four entries' dedication to telling stories that are novel and interesting for this community to enjoy is worthy of commendation in itself. For a while, I was scared we wouldn't even get enough entries to fill the podium; thanks to your efforts, this has not come to pass.

Since we have very few entries this time around, I'll be providing a link to each comic, with accompanying scores and excerpts from reviews. Now, catch the results under the cut:

Runner-Up: "The Undertale Game Comic" by FutureGamer25

(Average score: 15.5/50)

"As the submitter says, this was made in a day. I can’t be too hard on this out of principle..." - Soufon

"[...it] succeeded at making me laugh multiple times, thanks in no small part to how it deliberately wields nothing looking like it fits together." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"You know, honestly for being made in less than a day and being posted 5 minutes before the deadline, I gotta give you a lot of credit for that. I don’t even think I could have made that in a day [...]" - Mufeet

"The freaking car and the ending got me a good chuckle. I'll give you that. I congratulate you for tossing your coin." - Subna

3rd: "Frisk Visits the Store and Nothing Happens" by Trooper3

(Average score: 34/50)

"I thought Sans and ESPECIALLY Papyrus were super funny [...] I think we’ve finally reached a point where the skele-bros are just consistently characterized properly now, and I love to see it." - Mufeet

"The FunMart[TM] makes an earnest effort to capture the feeling of exploring an area in an actual Toby Fox game, and [...] captures at least a bit of that shine." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"I honestly like your idea, is funny and it works perfectly to show these OCs of yours in this format. I wish there was more content to see about them, I wish to know them [...]" - Subna

"As light as it is, I like having this kind of slice of life look into UT’s world, the comedy focus helping to make the comic feel more breezy than insubstantial." - Soufon

2nd: "Undertale: Pushing On" by Mouse

(Average score: 34.75/50)

"Of all the entries we got, this is the only one that really felt like it captured the essence of telling a story as if it were still part of a game—something I have sorely missed." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

"Great story and great teaching from it. Can add up greatly to UNDERTALE’s world and...tbh I’d LOVE to play a full game with Alvia." - Subna

"[...] I like having who [Gerson] is in UT be because of Alvia’s actions, like how the orange soul kid is framed as responsible for the bunny family in Snowdin’s success - having all the soul humans impact the underground like that helps all of them feel real to UT’s world[...]" -Soufon

"I was captivated from beginning to end, and god, the ending [...] it actually made me a bit teary-eyed." - Mufeet

1st: "Knock Knock" by StarlightShores and ToMoChao

(Average score: 47/50)

"I was not expecting something like this out of this contest. Knock Knock is a substantial storyline, not a peek into an adventure, or a silly reprieve." - Soufon

"Even if it’s pretty lengthy, it keeps you engaged, to know where this is all going, all the way to the end." - Subna

"Flowey and Sans pair-ups are so rare, but when done it is ALWAYS such a fun time. They both play off each other so well, and it is no exception in this comic, especially towards the end where they start to bond over dealing with the loss of someone important to them." - Mufeet

"You created a story going on a thousand panels where, while reading it, my attention never flagged [...] You created a webcomic the Undertale fanbase will, if there’s any justice left around here, be obsessed with for years to come. It’s art, I’m afraid." - CHAOS_FANTAZY

Our full score card for the event can be seen here. The full reviews will be available in the Discord server on request.

With regards to prizes: the judge whom was contributing to our prize pool has begun college for the year, and unfortunately they were unable to set aside the money they had originally promised for the cash prize. The illustration prize is still available; winners, please reach out to fmsdraws on Discord to claim your prize.

And that leaves me...with this blog.

I'd like to write up a proper postmortem for this experience, but that can come in another week or two. For now, please enjoy the comics and celebrate the victors!

[cactusisconfused]

The artists of the 141 🎨🖼️

-

It’s well known to anyone who knows Soap that the man can draw. Of course not everyone sees his drawings, as most of them are hidden away in his personal journal.

But people see his small doodles on spare papers during meetings or during training. Some of the privates always try to laugh at Soap for it, they learn to shut up after a glaring threat from ghost’s eyes. (Or if Soap himself is feeling feisty, will set off demolitions maybe a bit too close to those hard headed fuckers).

Regardless, Soap had been deemed the artist of the 141 and was thought to be the only one.

That is until Ghost and Soap get together.

They’re on leave and for the first time, Soap is staying with Ghost in his apartment. Upon walking in, the place is very clearly kept clean but has bouts of charm that just scream Simon.

What Johnny wasn’t expecting though, was the amount of clay objects that sit in the building. There are a variety of pots, some small sculptures of animals, plants- what have you.

As Simon shows Johnny around the flat, he stresses that one room- the first one down the hall- is not to be opened nor entered. Soap of course agreed, even if his curiosity went up tenfold.

They go about their leave together and apart. Some days Johnny would go on his runs solo, or go explore the area just for the sake of getting fresh air. Other times they’ll both go somewhere together. Usually in the mornings they will go to a local coffee shop and get breakfast. Maybe go to a book store or play some board games at the flat.

What Johnny has noticed through his stay, is despite how much both are around each other- everyday without fail for at least for an hour, Simon disappears into the room barred off from Johnny.

Johnny, has admittedly tried to get sneak peaks the first few time Simon walks in and out of it. Unfortunately, Johnny always walks away with no more than he started with.

.

It’s towards the end of their leave, Johnny sits on the couch, drawing the painted pot that sits on the kitchen hen counter. It’s a quaint thing, painted with flowing blues of many hues, bringing life to an otherwise still thing.

He’s pulled from his musings though, when he hears the quiet squeak of the forbidden door open and the soft thuds on the floorboard as Simon steps out, dusting his hands off.

Their eyes meet, and Simon jerks his head slightly towards the room, gesturing for Johnny to come in.

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he lays his pencil down on the table along with his sketchbook. “Are ye sure?” He asks quietly.

Simon just nod’s silently and crosses his arms as he stands by the door frame. Johnny, while a bit startled by the sudden change in rules about the room, gets up from the couch and moves to follow Simon.

He was expecting…well Johnny really wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he wasn’t expecting a studio.

The room is fairly small, but each nook and cranny is filled with something. Be it tools or clay, or finished and unfinished sculptures. There are some pots, some wonky or chipped while busts stand proudly on a few displays.

The busts form the faces of people Johnny has never met, but had heard stories of from the sculptor himself. One is of a woman with a depressive but kind smile, another is of a man with similar features to Simon, though a bit younger, his look is self assured, but there’s wisdom in his eyes. There’s another woman, her eyes bright and her smile brighter. Right next to those two is of a young boy, with kind and innocent eyes.

Eventually Johnny’s eyes fall to the middle of the room where a sculpture of sorts is covered in a thin gray sheet.

“Simon this is…” Johnny finds himself with a lack of words, feeling like he just entered the most important museum that will ever exist.

In silence, Simon puts a gentle hand on Johnny’s shoulder and moves past him, standing next to the supposed new sculpture. Once Simon was sure he had Johnny’s attention, he pulled the sheet off revealing a statue of Johnny himself.

The bust is almost uncanny with how accurate it is. From each line of his Mohawk to the small scar that sits hidden on Johnny’s stubbled chin.

The artist within Johnny’s mind reels as he stares at the bust, absorbing every small detail. His lover part of him can only swoon. The sound of a deep rubbling voice breaks him out of his spell.

“Admittedly, it’s not all done. I had planned on doing more than just a bust, but I wasn’t able to get a clay order in on time and well…I had to make do.” Simon speaks softly, his eyes looking to the side rather than at Johnny. Shy, is the word that comes to Johnny’s mind. The Scot can only smile and move to cradle Simon’s face in his hands.

“It’s lovely Simon, thank you.” Johnny says with a soft kiss on Simon’s cheek just for good measure.

Never once had Johnny thought Simon to be a sculptor, yet he finds his lover wears it well.

If the next times that Johnny’s sketches end up becoming sculptures of fine clay made by place scarred hands, Johnny can only smile and kiss his Simon a thousand times more.

-

Something wholesome??? That’s crazy.

Anyway, sorry to the COD lot of you that come here for this stuff and not Ghost band stuff (I fear there will be lots more)- thank you for holding out while the ‘tism goes loco.