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armysantiny · 11 months ago

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Perfect Little Pet – KHJ

P: Hongjoong x afab gender neutral reader | G: smut, oneshot | Inc: cruella!au, cruella!hongjoong, assistant!reader, 'Captain', 'pet', Felix mention, journalist!Wooyoung, Yunho mention, Wooyoung/Yunho mention, set in the UK, Trafalgar Square, flaring tempers i.e. Hongjoong's, fashion studio, cruella movie-esque fashion show, Hongjoong occasionally abusing his power, wet dreams, fwb ending, a lot of British references and general mannerisms, two smut scenes | Wc: 5.9k

W: d/s tones, 'Captain' used during sex, bent over the desk, dom!Joong, sub!reader, overstim, begging, wet dreams, blowjob, cumshot on face, backshot during sex, one/two uses of the word slut, 'pet' used during sex (please let me know if I've forgotten anything, I'm writing this post up at 1 am)| R: 18+ mdni

Summary: Captain. Anyone who’s anyone knows who that is; none other but the rising name in fashion and making a name for himself for his eye-catching and punk-inspired shows. And right there in the back, is obedient little y/n, the childhood friend. The assistant to the Captain and one of the few to know Hongjoong for who he is behind the scenes, uptight and frantic and so achingly desperate to be perfect. Good thing they’re the Captain’s perfect little pet.

Min's notes: We're starting the year off strong! And you may have figured it out already, but @hee0soo, I'm your secret santa! I had so so so much fun writing this, you have no idea. When I tell you I was giggling like an idiot when you answered my question in the server, it was perfect. I hope you like reading this! And this happens to be my longest fic <33 also, 'on the dole' = on benefits hehe

There’s graphite on his hands, smudged all over the sketchbook, and Hongjoong takes another look at the plain mannequin standing by its lonesome in his office. Something’s missing, he knows it. Is it the hem? The length of the sleeves? Whatever it is, Hongjoong can’t bloody tell and it’s driving him up the wall. The designer groans, dissatisfied with own progress and discards the sketchbook on his desk. He gets up with just as much frustration, boots stomping across the floor in the direction of the balcony. His production facility looms below him, hard at work.

Almost taunting him.

“Just one more…” he mutters, taking a reluctant step back into his seat, “one more of the bloody things and I’ll be ready for runway…” Sure, it is self-imposed encouragement, but it is encouragement. Hongjoong isn’t a beggar. He’ll take what he can get. And take, of course. Until his pencil simply drags along the paper with no real goal and he snaps the dastardly thing between his sleek fingers, throwing its remains against the closest wall. It clatters to the floor just as the frustrated designer storms towards the door to his office, opening it and unleashing a powerful tension upon the production floor.

“Bring y/n up here!”

Y/n shivers from where they stand, helping move a box of supplies into the stock room. No matter how long they’ve stood by Hongjoong’s side, there is nothing that will help them get used to the sound of him barking out a command like that. A frustrated Hongjoong is a live wire – temperamental, snappy, and not someone to be approached without caution. They freeze with the box for just a moment before it’s taken out of their hands by one of the new starters.

“Captain sounds pretty miffed,” they say, pulling on the sleeve of their hoodie, “go on, I’ve got this!”

“If you’re sure…”

“Course I am luv, go on already~” And y/n is all but gently shoved out of the stock room, left to face their employer. And childhood friend.

All eyes are on y/n as they walk through the building towards those ever-familiar stairs, trying to ignore the weight of everyone’s gaze. It’s just Hongjoong, our Joongie, there’s nothing to be anxious over, their mind repeats, heels clicking along the wooden panelling amongst the unusual human silence. Seconds go by excruciatingly slowly, and finally, y/n stands in front of Hongjoong’s office. One steadying breath, and then another.

The door opens before they have a chance to knock, Hongjoong all but yanking his assistant inside and locking the door behind them both. There’s an impatient energy in the room, furthered even more by the fact y/n watches their friend pull them along to the mannequin and frantically go about putting his prized mannequin back by the window where it overlooks the production floor.

“Lean against the wall for me, will ya?” Hongjoong asks, reaching for his sketchbook once again, certain he’s found a muse in y/n. They have this gait around them that would work just so well with his new line, it would be criminal if he doesn’t capture it on paper at least once. Well, perhaps a few times, because the creativity comes back with a vengeance. His pencil glides along the cartridge paper with ease, framing y/’s silhouette perfectly and a grin erupts on his face.

Finally. Finally, he can make a start on creating the showstopper piece.

Time is but an illusion as Hongjoong works on his piece, occasionally looking up to really solidify the vision he’s got in mind. Y/n’s holding themselves just the way he needs them to, providing just the right amount of feedback and silence he needs, and Hongjoong might as well be inside a creative paradise of his own making. He’s found the right formula. He’s found his new muse, perfectly shaped in the image of y/n, his little assistant. The outfit seems to come together all on its own as he draws, each stroke of the pencil working in tandem with each other to create a look he knows will absolutely shock the viewing public in Trafalgar Square.

It’s around an hour later when the design is finally complete, Hongjoong’s mind at ease as he does one last look over everything. He’s done it. The look is perfect. There is just one thing…

He’s rather hungry now.

“Right,” he starts, setting his sketchbook down, “that’s us done here y/n, thanks again pet~”

“O-oh, it’s no prob—”

“But do get us a spot of lunch, would you? I’ve been dying to try out that new brunch café. I want either a chicken alfredo or a chicken Caesar salad, understood?” He tosses y/n his wallet as they begin to leave, turning on his heel and collapsing into his office chair with a yawn.

“Your regular coffee too, Captain?” Y/n asks. Oh, what a darling they are.

“You know me too well~ of course I want my coffee. I want them both here by the half hour.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Checking the time as they leave the café, y/n breathes a sigh of relief: they’ve got at least another fifteen minutes to make it back to the factory if they can get to Hongjoong’s favourite coffee spot before the lunchtime rush, otherwise they’ll be late. So, they make a break for it, taking extra care to leave their Captain’s lunch flat in their bag lest they have alfredo decorate the inside of the gifted Nevada Leather Weekender slung over their shoulder. The coffee spot itself is only a few metres away, less than a few minutes to run, but every second counts in the world of the Captain.

Lady Fate is on their side it seems, because there absolutely no sign of a queue, or even the beginnings of one, when y/n makes it to the coffee shop. Aurora, a quaint little place y/n remembers Hongjoong spending almost every free minute in before they watched their friend shoot to success, when they were still just two friends with a dream. Their running slows to a brisk walk as they enter, greeting the barista with a smile and getting a card ready as soon as they confirm they’re after the usual iced latte with two extra shots of espresso and a shot of vanilla. Once payment goes through and the coffee is in their hands, y/n is out of there in a heartbeat, eager to make it back in time.

“Look at you~ exactly two minutes early,” Hongjoong muses as he sees y/n walk into his office. He pockets his stopwatch, hangs his custom-made coat on the coatrack and takes his coffee. “If there’s anyone I trust to make coffee the way I like it, it’s that pretty one with the deep voice. Face of an angel, but, God, that voice?”

Oh. His lunch is on the desk, but y/n is still here.

Strange.

“Well, are you waiting for me to say something? Run along now, pet, go… oh, I don’t know, busy yourself until I need you.” He chuckles, shooing them away and waving with his fingers once y/n is finally out of the door and Hongjoong can eat his lunch in private, just the way he likes.

Y/n’s bag slides down their arm and onto the floor of their studio flat as they step inside, well-earned exhaustion lacing their bones and pulling a yawn out of their mouth as they fall onto their sofa. They’re used to running all over London for Hongjoong, sure – hell, their daily step count always passes ten thousand – but it’s the weeks leading up to one of his planned fashion event-hijackings that y/n truly feels the burn. Where they truly feel pushed to their tether.

But it’s always worth it in the end, they remind themselves in between making themselves a cup of tea, watching the kettle boil. Together, they will achieve worldwide success, their brand – Silver Light – will be in every boutique and everyone will know who the Captain is. Y/n spoons a teaspoon of sugar into the mug, pops in the teabag and pours the boiling water and milk, huffing at the connection their mind puts together.

They’re the teaspoon of sugar. Not the main event, no, but an addition to make things sweeter. To make Hongjoong’s plans sweeter.

“New sources and evidence have since come to light regarding the hijacking of Oxford Circus last week. The impromptu fashion show was caused by the organisation called Silver Light, headed by someone calling themselves the ‘Captain’, who witnesses say was armed with a cane, yet no one has been harmed. Following an insider comment…”

The rest of the news story plays on tv, y/n’s interest piqued when they recognise the journalist behind it all. One of Hongjoong’s newer friends, a trusted insider working for the BBC that y/n’s met a good few times. They grab their phone from its charger, unplugging it and dialling the number they’re looking for. It’s a few seconds before they hear the call pick up on the other end of the line.

“Can it be~?” Wooyoung’s voice sings through the phone, “the Captain’s assistant is calling little ol’ me~?”

“Good evening to you too, Wooyoung.” Y/n laughs, ever fond of the charming journalist. “I’m watching your news report tonight, my… you know just how to create the right kind of excitement. A master with words, one would say. Just how do you it~?”

“Y/n, darling,” y/n can almost see the playful rolling of the journalist’s eyes, “you’re flattering me, you know? But flattery gets you everywhere with me, so thank you ever so much.”

The conversation goes on for another half hour, y/n giving Wooyoung all the subtle information he needs to create the next buzz around Silver Light’s next big show. There needs to be a sizable crowd for Trafalgar next week, and Wooyoung is just the right person to weave his words and create that buzz y/n knows Hongjoong is looking for. All manner of press and paparazzi should be there; Silver Light needs to be on the front cover of every broadsheet and tabloid in England.

And when they switch to video call so Wooyoung can jot everything down, y/n chooses to ignore the knowing glance sent their way. They’ve had this conversation before, plenty of times even – concern that all of y/n’s efforts aren’t their own will, that Hongjoong’s somehow forcing them to be his assistant. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

They make themselves another cup of tea, and sigh when Wooyoung still refuses to back down.

“Woo, I know that look,” they sigh, already knowing what comes next. The concern, the lecturing. The you’re being his servant, y/n, you deserve more than that. “This isn’t something Hongjoong is making me do, I really do want Silver Light to succeed. This is my dream too, even if it doesn't look like I want it as much as he does, or it looks like he’s forcing me.”

“Y/n…”

“Have a little faith in me, hm?” They bargain. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“If you say so—” Wooyoung’s gaze snaps to something above the camera, “oh, Yunho’s home, he brought food! See you soon y/n~”

“See you soon, say hi to Yunho for me.”

The call ends, and y/n is left with their thoughts, a hot cup of tea, and a muted news channel playing on their tv. Rather than let themselves succumb to the impeding thoughts on the horizon, y/n sips on their tea, unmutes their tv and scrolls through BBC iPlayer until they find the most recent unwatched episode of MasterChef and hits play. The thought manages to persist, though.

Are they just Hongjoong’s errand runner? A simple cog in the machine that Hongjoong pays just that bit more attention to than the others?

Hongjoong’s footsteps echo along the floor as he walks through the production floor, inspecting every station as he passes them by. The Trafalgar show is but days away and he cannot afford a single error whatsoever. He’s counting on this one to be a success; Wooyoung’s articles have created the right kind of stir he needs, y/n’s been busting their ass helping him with the finer details, the last thing Hongjoong needs is his plan falling apart.

So why the fuck can he see someone stitching a button incorrectly?

“You!” He barks, storming over to the unsuspecting employee, fury lining his brows. It stuns the rest of the room into silence, terror in their eyes as they watch. “Are you trying to ruin this week’s show?! Just what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!”

They shiver, the poor thing, watching as Hongjoong furiously inspects the garment for any more errors. It’s a simple mistake really, a small oversight but they know better. Everyone at Silver Light knows better:

Captain doesn’t give second chances.

But then Hongjoong smiles. Not a genuine one by any means, no, but something that’s a little too sweet.

“What’s your name, darling?”

“M-my name is Felix, Captain—” whatever Felix tries to say is cut off by a heart-attack inducing bang, Hongjoong’s cane slamming down on their workstation in the blink of an eye. The shock sends Felix tumbling, and they prick their thumb on a fashion pin, droplets of blood staining the floor where they stand.

“Oh, just get out!”

“Captain, wait! P-please!”

“You’re fired, get out!”

A pin-drop silence echoes through the building, Hongjoong’s frustration palpable to everyone watching. The workstation is unmanned now, no one remaining to take the task, yet the buttons still need to be taken out and resewn on. Properly, this time. Exhaling, Hongjoong slips his cap off in favour of brushing his hand through his hair, the black and white split-dye messing up and framing his face.

What he needs right now, is y/n to make his problem go away. To be his reliable ally and fix the problem in his way.

He pats his coat down, looking for his phone and almost wants to cry out in relief when he finds the infernal device in his back pocket. A deep breath slips past his lips, and he calls y/n.

And like the angel they are, y/n picks up.

“…Joong?” They rasp out, clearly still tired. “It’s my day off, is everything alright over there?”

No, everything is not alright, Hongjoong wants to rant, the stress itching away at under his skin.

“I really, really wish it was, pet. How fast can you get here?” He asks, praying that the rustling he hears from the other end is y/n changing into their usual work outfit.

“Y/n? Pet?”

“Still here!” They call out, and Hongjoong has half the mind to kiss them when they arrive. “Just checked the traffic, I can make it in twenty?”

“Make it fifteen and I’ll get you that pretty gem of a car you’ve had your eye on.” Hongjoong offers, huffing out a laugh when y/n readily agrees, and the line goes dead seconds later. They’re on their way to Silver Light, and all his problems will be solved. For whom else can Kim Hongjoong rely on other than his y/n?

The clock ticks by agonisingly slowly, teasing Captain with every second that y/n is still on their way. Sure, he can fix this specific coat that Felix so wonderfully fucked up, but there’s a whole line of these that need to be done, and the designer is only human. He can’t do this alone. But he can relax because as soon as Captain resigns himself to hand-stitching every coat, y/n comes in through the door, hurrying over to the workstation and shoo-ing Captain away.

“And you fired him?! Over a button?!” Y/n asks, completely baffled as they listen to Hongjoong rant while they’re stitching the buttons properly. “You really have lost your marbles, Kim Hongjoong.”

“But you still came to my aid! Y/n, you know I couldn’t do all of this without you~” They deadpan, scoffing with smile they can’t control when Hongjoong latches himself onto their back in gratitude. “You’ll be able to handle doing the rest of the coat buttons, right?

Y/n rolls their eyes. They can handle it.

“Bring Felix back, and I’ll stay until the end of the day,” they bargain.

“Deal!”

Y/n doesn’t regret offering to help Hongjoong, really, they don’t, but they have a day off in the middle of the week for a reason. Exhaustion nips away them as they finish the last of the coat buttons, hanging the last one on the rack and patting the sleep out of their face as best they can. Felix is back inside, replacing y/n at his workstation with a meek smile and y/n doesn’t know whether to be happy the young man is back or give the split-dyed designer running the entire outfit a piece of their mind—

And Hongjoong’s calling them into his office.

There’s a corkboard standing when they enter, Hongjoong pinning post-its with various last-minute details. It’s chaotic — more so than usual. Y/n takes a few steps towards the board, reading Hongjoong’s ideas and avoiding the eccentric designer running circles around them.

“Why the last-second rush around?” They ask, still obediently helping Hongjoong sort out his mismatch of written thoughts. “I thought we figured all the details? You’re going to smash the event, Joong, I know what you’re capable of.”

“Awe, thanks y/n~” Hongjoong pats their shoulder. “Your unwavering faith in me is awe inspiring~”

“Oh, shut up,” y/n laughs, then yawns. Bloody hell, they’re tired. “I know I said I was going to stay for the rest of the day, but I’m asleep on my feet here... I can come in tomorrow?” It’s a risky bargain trying to convince Hongjoong like this, but it’s worth a try.

“Y/n, pet... You’re just fine, just sit in here for a bit,” and there goes their chance at rest as Hongjoong admonishes them. “And I need that brilliant mind of yours for later; can’t have you sitting at home, now can we~?”

No, no he can’t apparently. So, y/n stays, because of course they do.

But now it’s a day before the big hijack, at the god-awful time of one in the morning and Hongjoong is still deliberating over what to wear for the event, lovingly dubbed Project Trafalgar by his darling y/n. Y/n, who answered his messages only half an hour before and watches Hongjoong run around from their spot on his bed, legs crossed and looking oh so cute.

So easily corruptible. But he stores that thought away.

Hongjoong holds up one of his favourite blazers for y/n, a navy cropped piece he’s admittedly worn far too many times. It’s supposed to go with the rest of his outfit that’s already spent a good few hours working on, one that’s going to blow people’s minds away when he reveals himself once Project Trafalgar finishes successfully. Y/n tilts their head, examining the clothing and giving a sleepy thumbs up, nodding their head as they approve of his choices.

“You know~” Hongjoong sings as he goes to hang the blazer up in preparation for tomorrow. “Sometimes I think you’re the true genius behind our success, you always know just how to make everything look absolutely perfect.”

Y/n laughs, and Hongjoong wants to hear more of it.

“Is that Kim Hongjoong appreciating me I hear?” They tease, and Hongjoong gets to hear more of that endearing laugh when he mock-glares in their direction. “I’m just taking the mick, relax. I appreciate what you said, this is important to me. Silver Light and yourself.”

“You’re important me to me too, pet.” And it’s true.

His outfit hung up and decided, Hongjoong finally starts to feel the pull of exhaustion himself. Y/n really wasn’t lying when they said the designer was going to crash from his adrenaline high. He stretches, lithe and cat-like, and disappears into his ensuite to change into something a bit more… suitable for sleeping after an all-nighter putting together his outfit. His cleanser and other nighttime hygiene products are on the shelf above the sink, and Hongjoong figures that he might as well get started removing the stress of the day from his face.

“Y/n, darling,” he starts, “do you think that—”

Hongjoong stops talking when he gets no answering noise in return, and he pokes his head out of his bathroom. Y/n is asleep. He chuckles; of course, y/n is asleep because unlike himself, y/n actually has a normal sleep schedule.

So, he forgoes the question was going to ask them in favour of heading to his bed, lifting’s y/n’s head and resting it on his lap after he sits down. Their hair is soft, he finds, loosely getting his fingers tangled as he finds a strange comfort in the moment he's found himself in. The silence doesn’t help either; letting Hongjoong’s mind spill out words of gratitude he knows his pride would never let him say. It’s better that way, anyway.

But Captain isn’t entirely devoid of basic human empathy.

“Get some rest, pet,” he mutters, “you earned it, my busy little assistant.”

Hongjoong shivers, his head thrown back on the sofa of his flat as he watches y/n through near-shut eyes. They’ve got the head of his cock in their mouth, swirling their tongue around the tip and good lord does Hongjoong want to just buck his hips into y/n’s warm, pretty mouth and—

Not yet. Not if he wants to stretch this out and enjoy it just that little bit longer.

But apparently, he isn’t the only impatient one in the room because y/n wastes no time in getting more of his length inside their mouth, hand wrapping around the remainder. Cold hands and a warm mouth are a killer combination, and Hongjoong shivers with a groan, bucking his hips forward and enjoying the sound of y/n’s muffled surprise.

“Don’t you start acting like that, pet,” he says, reaching down to grab their hair. He gives a few testing thrusts and fuck does he want more. “You’re just as eager as I am, you and I both bloody well know that.”

A rhythm develops, one that has sinful noises bouncing around Hongjoong’s flat and a coil of heat building in his abdomen, his orgasm drawing closer by the minute. Y/n’s moans send vibrations up his cock, and it’s really not all that fair. Not when he’s trying so hard not to just shoot his load down y/n’s pretty throat.

But fuck if y/n isn’t trying to suck his soul out, their criminally talented tongue making his cock twitch. Higher and higher his voice climbs, until his hips are twitching, breaking his rhythm and Hongjoong wraps his legs around y/n’s back, gently forcing them to look him in the eye.

“Where do you want it, pet?” He’s met with y/n’s questioning blink before they tap their face and their chest. “Fucking tease, want me to paint you in my cum? That right, baby?”

They nod, pulling themselves of Hongjoong and yanking off their top in record time. His cock is in their mouth again, twitching as the coil builds and builds, until Hongjoong pulls out, pulling y/n’s face back and coming with a shout of their name.

“Fuck, darling...that was—"

Y/n’s startled awake when Hongjoong shoots up out of bed, watching through tired eyes as the frazzled man looks around the bedroom. They do the same, deciding under the cloud of sleep to not question how and why they ended up in the same bed, but whatever time it is, is no humane time to be awake. So, y/n pads around for their phone, checks the time, and groans.

It’s three in the morning.

“Joong...everything okay?” They ask, shrugging the cover over their face, eager to return to sleep.

“Hm? Oh— yes, yes... everything’s fine, just have Trafalgar on my mind.” Of course, he does. They roll their eyes, an affectionate chuckle and reach over to yank him back down, filing away the sound of Hongjoong’s squeak in the depths of their mind.

“Go back to sleep, love…it’s too early for you to fret.” Y/n says, the comfort of their words wrapped in the inviting warmth of sleep. They fall back asleep just as well, quickly enough that they miss the tint on Hongjoong’s face and his mumbled agreement.

There is all but one precious hour until Project Trafalgar is underway, and Captain has been fidgeting with his hands for the last half of it. He goes through every step of the process once, twice and he’s about to go through it a third time when Captain feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s y/n, and he takes a few deep breaths as per their instructions as his mind hits the breaks on his fretting.

“Captain, you’re doing it again.” They admonish. He blinks; he’s doing what? “Bloody hell, you’re the greatest fashion visionary in British history, this will go perfectly. Ok?”

“Ok.” Captain nods, maintaining eye contact. Reliable little y/n, always by his side. He keeps up with the eye contact, looking into the eyes watching him with so much confidence and unbridled trust that he can feel the confidence resurface under his own skin.

And then y/n leans forward to peck his lips, and his heart does a thing.

“Go on, show them all who Silver Light’s captain is.” Y/n chuckles.

“Are you saying they forgot, pet?” Hongjoong counters, the need to fret over last minute details gone entirely. “Tonight, will be unforgettable, I can promise you that much pet. Make sure you’re watching, hm?”

And watch, y/n does, as they stay hidden away from the obvious police presence Silver Light seems to attract and watch as Captain’s show begins. The music is loud, attention-grabbing and y/n feels excitement light up every nerve in their body. Months. Months and months of sweat, blood and tears has gone into every moment, and they watch the models come into view, each wearing an individual piece from Captain’s new line. It’s gorgeous. Utterly stunning, and y/n can’t help but snap a few pictures and record a quick video.

They’re going to need material to send to Wooyoung, after all.

The next half of the models make their appearance, and y/n very much joins the crowd’s cheering, clapping as each piece is given its moment and basking in the theatrics of it all. Everything sings with Hongjoong’s personal touch. It’s dramatic and elegant and everything that y/n knows to be the essence of Hongjoong’s taste and the Silver Light brand. The crowds are loud, and y/n uses the opportunity to slip away unnoticed from the police and the general public, back into the safehouse Silver Light had so kindly borrowed for tonight’s event. Sure, they’re going to miss when Hongjoong reveals himself and scatters leaflets inviting everyone to purchase an item from his collection, but they’ve seen that all before.

And then they fall asleep on the closest sofa.

Hongjoong bounces in with excitement as he pushes the door of the safehouse wide open, the leftover adrenaline coursing through his veins. He laughs, victorious and gleeful before yanking a now wide-awake y/n.

“Someone looks happy~” they comment, and Hongjoong stops outside his makeshift office, letting his adrenaline take the lead and planting a kiss on their lips.

“Oh, y/n,” he exclaims, pushing open the door and pulling y/n inside. “You have no idea! My darling pet, I~ will be making good on that promise I made.”

And almost immediately he has y/n pressed against the wall as he captures their lips in a kiss, eager and finally getting to act on that bundle of unspoken desire in his chest. A hand is cupping their cheek, tilting y/n’s head as Hongjoong’s tongue pushes past their bottom lip, demanding entry in the only way he can. He explores the warmth he had dreamt about, a chuckle sounding in his throat as y/n’s mouths feels just as good as he had imagined.

“Perfect…” he whispers, a trail of saliva connecting their mouths as he pulls away. “my perfect, perfect y/n…”

Hongjoong gasps in pleasant surprise when y/n makes the move to attack his neck, kissing and sucking on his skin with vigour. He relents, exposing his neck for his darling y/n and busies himself with the task of removing their clothes. By simply ripping them clean off, enjoying the surprised whimper that vibrates against his neck. He pulls them back just that little bit, running his gaze across their exposed body and—

Oh, how pretty his y/n is.

The hairs on the back of y/n’s neck stand up under Hongjoong’s eyes as heavy breaths leave their lips. This is happening now, and they want it, no matter what tonight will do to their friendship with the man in front of them. Whatever lingering hesitations they’ve ever had go out the window, and y/n wastes no time themselves in removing Hongjoong’s clothes, just that bit gentler about it than him.

“Pretty little pet,” they shiver as Hongjoong whispers in their ear. “Want to be good for me, don’t you?”

And they do. They really, really do.

Somewhere in between heated touches and the new hickeys being made on their skin, y/n watches as Hongjoong sinks to his knees, grabbing the inside of their thighs and getting dangerously close to their cunt. He’s taking his time, kissing just close enough to their folds, making y/n twitch in anticipation, but it’s not enough. They want more. Y/n needs more. So, they buck their hips, chasing the feeling but whimper the moment Hongjoong pulls himself away and holds them still.

“You said you’d be good for me, pet, didn’t you?” They nod.

“Then beg. Beg for me to get my mouth on that gorgeous little cunt like the good little slut we both know you are for me.”

So, y/n begs. Pleads with Hongjoong to shove his face in between their legs and eat them out until their knees buckle, for him to push his lithe fingers inside and wring cries out of their mouth. For Hongjoong to fuck them.

Satisfied, Hongjoong digs his fingers into y/n’s thighs as he pulls their legs apart, tutting as his favourite little pet tries closing their legs, suddenly shy. What, did they think he was joking?

“Still or I leave you like this, understand?”

“Yes, yes Captain…” And Hongjoong likes that.

“You keep calling me that, pet.” He says, and wastes no time in pulling himself closer, licking a fat stripe along y/n’s folds. They’re wet, and Hongjoong goes to town, indulging himself and sucking on the sensitive flesh until his nose is buried in y/n’s cunt, drinking up the sounds of his pet’s gasps and whines, his title a song on their lips. He keeps going, bringing his fingers to y/n’s untouched clit, rubbing against the bud in achingly slow circles.

He spends minutes like this, slipping two of his fingers inside y/n’s sopping cunt and sparing little mercy as he coaxes them closer and closer to orgasm. Hongjoong’s cock is stiff in his dress pants, straining against the fabric and the taste on y/n on his tongue is going to make him fucking come if he isn’t careful. He peers up from where he’s kneeling between their legs, hooded eyes making contact with the desperation looking back at him.

“Hong— Captain! Please!” Y/n cries when Hongjoong slips a third finger inside them, hands scrambling for purchase against the wall of the office. They’re close, so achingly close and fucking dammit they need to come so badly. But Hongjoong doesn’t relent, raising a brow and watching them writhe where they stand.

“Please, what, pet?” He taunts. “Use your words like the good pet you are.”

“I— I want to come! Please, Captain, I’m so— fuck, fuck— so close, I need—” Whatever words they want to say are stolen out of their throat, replaced instead by an overwhelming pleasure that has them squeezing their eyes shut, at the mercy of Hongjoong’s will. It’s unrelenting, and soon enough their orgasm is crashing through them, shooting stars through their vision all the while Hongjoong makes them ride it out on his fingers, the man getting off his knees and pulling them into a heated kiss. They can taste themselves on his lips, and it only spurs on another wave of desire.

They’re bent over the desk when the last of the first aftershocks leave their systems, head held back by neck as Hongjoong whispers dirty promises and slides his cock into their inviting – and only a little sensitive – cunt. A second goes by, the designer allowing y/n to only just get used to it before he starts thrusting, a leisurely quick pace.

“All this time, darling,” Hongjoong groans from above them,” all this time I could have had this perfect body of yours bent over my desk. Made for me, you were, absolutely made for me.”

And fuck, aren’t they just?

Hongjoong can’t hold back anymore, and he presses his chest against y/n’s back, pounding away into their tight hole and groping their chest in his hands, nipples caught in between thumb and index finger. Y/n’s cries are only motivation, and in the few seconds it takes for him to figure out the best angle, Hongjoong decides he’s allowed to chase his own high, giving into the devil on his shoulder and biting on the soft flesh of y/n shoulder.

“It’s so much, oh god—”

“Fuck- just a little longer pet, c’mon,” he rasps, his own orgasm well within reach. “Where do you want it, hm? You can answer that much, can’t you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck— on my back, I want it on my back!” And what else is Hongjoong to do, but oblige? He fucks them into them with the slightest hint of abandon, holding y/n impossibly closer and the orgasm builds, and builds, until he’s pulling out and coming onto their back with a drawn-out moan, his hips stuttering as the waves of pleasure begin to die down.

Exhaustion makes its way into the room, but it’s welcome this time, as Hongjoong very graciously helps y/n rest on the sofa he’d luckily had moved inside the office. There’s some wipes and a towel, and he makes quick work of cleaning the both of them up, ruffling up y/n’s hair when they watch him, almost surprised.

“And what’s that look for?” He huffs, tossing the used wipes away and patting them both dry. “I’m not that bad.”

Y/n simply laughs and shakes their head. They’re rather cute sometimes.

“Just,” they gesture to the office and between the two of them, “all of this; the event, the sex, the… us, I guess? I’m going to be sore tomorrow but fuck, that was amazing.”

Hongjoong nods along as he heads over to his desk and pulls out two water bottles, handing one to y/n as he sits down beside them, the pair donning robes. Nothing but the finest cotton, of course. There’s a silence that overcomes the rooms, and Hongjoong welcomes it – y/n too, sinking into the plush cushions and eying the evidence of sex in the room.

And then Hongjoong breaks the three minutes of silence, because his mind suddenly craves an answer.

“Y/n, pet… do you think this will change anything?”

“Between us, you mean?” He nods.

“Well, you’re treating me the same way you normally do, I don’t exactly want to date you…seems pretty same-y to me.” Y/n reasons, but then they pause. “Though, the sex continuing would be a pretty nice bonus~”

Hongjoong laughs, “so our little relationship is on the dole then, is it?”

“Oh shut up, you.”

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators, @ateezlovenet, @cromernet

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @blonghoonie, @xavi-in-kpopland, @marxenash, @tinystarstay | Taglist form

#Writer Elf Minnie #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #ultkpop #wkcnet #ateezlovenet #cromernet #ateez #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez au #hongjoong au

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 10 months ago

Text

Fear of Falling ... Masterlist

HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK III x FtM!Reader

(can be read as just masc!reader except for the end of part 2 )

You’re a carpenter in New Berk, a town you’re helping to build. You live alone, eat alone, and- well, you’re fine with it. Really. Even in a town this big, constantly expanding with more people, you couldn’t feel more alone than you do. Having recently been disowned by your family, you’re now trying to build yourself a new life in the one place you knew they wouldn’t go. Why? Well, the dragons that seem to be everywhere for starters. Chief Hiccup was someone who, for the longest time, hardly ever could be found around old Berk. He was the closest to his dragon, to all dragons, and took to the air like a Viking to sea. However, building a new town from the ground up required a certain amount of responsibility. That, and you’ve heard rumours of his dragon taking some time away to get to know his new mate. With Hiccup now forced to stay in town, where would he go to get away from all of his Chiefly duties now? Somewhere unexpected, where no one would guess to look. Who were you, anyway? A slight-AU of after the third movie. Instead of making it to the edge of the world, and letting all the dragons leave to go live there, the dragons instead decided to stay with the people they’ve grown close to. Nothing can come between the bond of dragon and rider.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Archive of our Own

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR... (coming soon)

TAG LIST: *lecoindetobi , *gored-to-be-here , *am3nic , *ohdeersthings , *l4te-n1ght-c4t

#how to train your dragon #masc!reader #ftm!reader #he/him pronouns #hiccup x reader #hiccup x m!reader #hiccup x masc!reader #Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III #normal guy reader #carpenter reader #'orphaned' reader #disowned reader #mention of transphobia #masterlist

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siberat · 9 months ago

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I saw a while back you did some art of pregnant chubby drift and honestly I'd love to hear whatever headcanons or short stories you got on it tbh, we need more pregnant chubby drift in life

( added the art pic as well)

Due to his current state, the living room was the most used room nowadays. Expecting their first batch of spark/lings in the next few weeks, Dr/ift spent most of his time lying in the berth or cozied up on the sofa watching podcasts. The heft of carrying three spark/lings weighed him down.

Literally.

As his servos rubbed over his swollen- and sometimes moving- belly, he recalled the time he discovered their carrying. All the classic signs were there: morning sickness, mood changes, excessive tiredness, and, oh boy, the food cravings!

While Dr/ift considered him to have a broad palette, the treats he suddenly desired were out in left field. His normal foods were healthy, nutritious, and tasty. Now, his belly had an insatiable desire for sweets, briny foods such as pickles, and cakes.

The start was simple at first- the medic's snacks would be stolen from cupboards, or extra sugar cubes would be placed in the hot energon beverage in the morning. But as the days passed, the yearning for junk food seemed limitless! He’d reach in to steal another packaged cake to find he had long consumed them all. After supper, he would take seconds on those desserts Rat/chet was fond of. Ice cream was usually devoured with crumbled-up cookies and chocolate. And who can resist chocolates, peanut butter, and rich and creamy puddings?

This binge-snacking soon caught up with him: he sported a belly bulge. Yes, he was mortified at first, trying to hide his weight gain from his lover. His once sleek and tight frame now dropped and sagged. How could anyone find this blobby mess appealing? The swords/mech spent hours in front of the mirror grimacing as he pinched at the squishy, newly formed rolls. He nearly screamed in horror when he checked out his now wider aft in the mirror.

And when the CMO discovered that starter belly, Dr/ift, being very cranky, nearly bit his head off, whaling in shame and defensive anger. And then he locked himself in the berthroom and cried, feeling guilty for becoming so irate with his lover. That was the longest night ever. Of course, Rat/chet attempted to soothe his distraught lover through the closed door, but it was useless.

However, the next day, the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. Was he carrying? Dr/ift nearly squealed with joy after picking up a test and testing himself! And you can imagine the excitement to be had upon his con/jux returning home. Both were delighted and celebrated.

With cakes, ice cream, and pickles, of course.

The evenings now consisted of pampering sessions. That belly swell was cherished, treated almost as if it were another living entity as Rat/chet stroked, caressed, and baby-talked it at any chance. Dr/ift briefly got jealous. Just kidding! He loved how Rat/chet cooed over his baby bump, smiling whenever gazing upon its swelled mass. Slag, when snuggling, the medic made out with the belly almost as much as he did with Dr/ift.

Anything Dr/ift could ever desire, Rat/chet provided. If there was a midnight craving and Dr/ift attempted to wobble his larger frame to the kitchen, Rat/chet would bark for him to lay back down as he got up to fix the desired dish. Even better was how the medic insisted on spoon-feeding him the treat, then rubbed his belly, whispering adoring words of encouragement as they drifted back into recharge.

Let’s face it: Rat/chet comes across as a crotchety old fart at times, right? However, he was such a doting creator. Whenever ankles would be swollen, he was there to rub them. Needed creams rubbed on his stretching and therefore itching protomesh? Rat/chet would eagerly rub some on. Later on, when Dr/ift really got huge, Rat/chet would help him shower, washing all the areas the swords/mech had trouble reaching on his own. Yeah, servo’s wondered, but use your imagination for that.

All the while, the doctor would continuously tell Dr/ift how much he was loved. If there were any doubts of still being attracted to such a large, bloated frame, Rat/chet reassured how hot the T/IC still looked. The frame of an expecting mech was a glorious sight to behold- just knowing his spark/lings were healthily growing filled his spark with pride and joy. He’d also show this admiration with all the kisses, cuddles, and caresses. Slag, one evening was spent with the medic kissing every part of the carrying mech’s frame.

The spark/ling room was all decorated and prepared for the arrival of their little ones. Pictures of cute cyberducks hung on the walls, three cribs with an excellent wood stain lined the back wall, and a study rocking chair rested in the corner of the room. Whatever the carrier would want, the other provided. Many nights, while Dr/ift was still relatively mobile, the pair would just gaze upon the nursery. Rat/chet held Dr/ift in his arms, kissing at neck cables as hands lovingly roamed over that big ol’ belly. Rat/chet would smile, proclaim his love to his con/jux, and tell him how much joy the swords/mech brought him.

Rat/chet always wanted to be a father

…. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for the prompt!

#chubformers #siberatart #Siberat prompts #mpreg #mechpreg

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ghostsandmirrors · 3 months ago

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Questions for the mun - all Basics please? Don't hate me lol

Questions for the mun.

pfft, I could never. I am going to miss one question because someone else sent it, too.

(under read more because that's 12 questions)

When did you first start writing? 2008. I was on Mibba (writing site) and someone's journal post was an advert for a Proboards Potter forum.

In what language did you start writing? English. It was only like 2019 that I started trying to learn another language och jag är så dålig på talar svenska x.x (and I'm so bad at talking Swedish)

If your mother tongue is not the language you write now, what caused you to switch languages? N/A - one day I'll get good enough at Swedish to RP in it but that ain't today.

What was the first muse that you’ve written? Her name was Judy Lewis on that Proboards site in 2008. I also wrote her twin brother (Jesse Lewis). She was a Slytherin half-blood, he was a Hufflepuff half-blood.

I once answered an ask about her on the Bringer's blog so here's the link.

Do you still write your first muse? Nope. I consider remaking her sometimes--especially when memes ask about first muses--but I think she belongs in 2008 and in the fanfic I was writing at the time.

What is the muse that you write for the longest? This is answered here. The answer is Bam (first made 2009 on a Potter site I made); 2009 Gerard Way had that vibe and then they dyed their hair red and Danger Days came out and I was like 👀👀👀

Also because of Bam, and me being so specific when it came to making graphics (avatars and signatures), I can tell you which year a Gerard Way picture came from between the years of 2003 and 2013 based entirely on their hair.

I used to think I was neurotypical btw. Teenage me making a Notepad document of Gerard Way GIFs organised by hair style and year ('long black, 2005') like, 'yeah, this is a normal level of interest in a subject.' It is not, but it is a fun fact I get to whip out now.

In what style did you start to write (First person, third person, *-style or novel-style?) I have always written in third person, past tense, I guess novel-style? Used to do a lot of one-liners but--and I actually mentioned this to someone the other day--I ended up on a lot of sites with minimum word counts (usually only like 100 words, which sounds like a lot but is surprisingly small).

My longest post pre-Tumblr was like 2k words because me and a thread partner were just seeing how long we could make our posts in that specific thread. We also tried to go back to one-liners only for a thread (for fun) and we were struggling.

What caused you to start writing? What was your key point? General writing was probably this one book series about a man who lived with a family that made clay dragon statues and the dragon statues came to life. I looked it up; The Last Dragon Chronicles. I did not read all of them.

RP specifically was the site advert coming when I had like just started writing a Potter fanfic of Goblet of Fire from the point of view of Random OC (Judy Lewis, who was a Gryffindor in the fic).

Do you regret starting writing? No. It taught me how to spell, for starters. I was dogshit at spelling and grammar back in the day and I've gotten so much better just through practice and actually learning what things are used for. Also like... you get the best reactions. Even if I ever managed to quit RP--which I don't think I will--I would never be able to fully stop writing because of those reactions. One way or another, I will inflict fictional suffering on people.

As a kid, I wanted to be an author. Making characters and worlds is way too fun.

Is there anything you would have changed when you started writing now that you have more experience? RP specific; no. Writing in general; I'd have started writing proper English from the beginning and not spent years deciding that full stops are only used for the end of a paragraph, actually.

Also some of the older characters don't have their apps saved at all and I'm still mad about it. I struggled making Arnulf because his old app and all his old information is gone. I'm gonna die mad at past me about like 17 different things and it's fine because they deserve it.

How do you describe writing / rp to others? Generally I don't, but if I had to, I would describe it as 'y'know writing a story? It's like that but you only control one character.' It's not accurate--NPCs exist--but like it's the closest I can get considering I'm genuinely trash at describing anything lmao

On what platform did you start to write? Accidentally answered this in the first answer. Oops. Proboards. I actually refused to go to other forum sites for the longest time because I didn't understand the coding for posts. On Proboards it was like [b]bold[/b], on InvisionFree it was <b>bold</b>, I think Jcink was [b]bold[/b]?

I did eventually also go on InvisionFree (one site, a Buffy/The Vampire Diaries crossover site) and Jcink (multiple sites, mostly Marvel/DC crossover sites, a couple of panfandom sites, a town site?, and at least one Potter site). Jcink might be my favourite of the three.

There was also 'Boards' which was to Proboards what Jcink was to InvisionFree (Jcink sites have 'powered by InvisionFree' at the bottom, Boards sites had 'powered by Proboards').

#ooc #ooc!ask #ooc!answer #reevezs #l o n g b o i #you've been warned

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things-about-cars-in-posts · 1 year ago

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Any favorite Car Games™ of yours? Forza, GT, Beam, Automation, etc.?

Auto/Beam are particular favorites of mine and also i have 10,000 hours logged between them

Since I wasn't a spoiled bitch, I can literally just list all the car games I had in my childhood. All for PC that is, because since I wasn't a spoiled bitch I didn't have a console. Okay actually there was NFS Carbon: Own The City and Herbie for DS but that was it. We were saying.

Colin McRae Rally 04 You've no idea what pain I brought to those poor little cars. Frequently I got to the end of one of those 2/4m stages with the car dying every 10/15 seconds. Such a good game. It also ran without having to insert its CD, which was very cool at the time, and very useful when I was gaming on the go on Father's Dell. idk if I also played it on his Toshiba but no such memory surfaces. Man I loved Father's Toshiba. I should try to retrofit it with new internals sometime.

Colin McRae Rally 2005 Liked that one too, but memories are hazier since at one point I was no longer able to play it for reasons I cannot recall so I just moved to 04 instead.

Test Drive Unlimited Got it recommended and didn't like it much. In hindsight it was an absolutely gorgeous game structure, but I just didn't care because I didn't like the way the cars drove. It collected dust.

Race Driver GRID For a long while, by far the latest racing game I ever had. Enjoyed it quite a lot! I even submitted an absolutely incredible gameplay clip to FailRace, though unfortunately it never did get featured. Bullshit, I say. And yes, for the longest time, I think until like 2020?, I had one single game that was younger than '06. See the part about not being a spoiled bitch. <-absolutely green with envy

GT Legends Played it a little during my youth, then tried to reinstall it years later to see if it lived up to my few memories of it and if I could get more out of it then by being less of a stupid baby. It corrupted the entire operating system and made the computer unable to start. A solid "no" to both.

And of course, who could forget, the Need For Speed series! In their chronological order:

Need For Speed Underground In my early childhood I didn't play it much, because I was still using the auto gearbox like a PLEB and you couldn't map controls in that game so when I got to the first drag race I couldn't figure out where the shift up key was nor could find it or remap it in settings and just abandoned the game. It should be noted as a child I was, in absolute, cosmically stupid. Later on I did pick it back up and see it to completion, loving it throughout (except for the part where you unlock the final boss' Civic you were neck and neck with on an R34 Skyline GT-R and they tell you it was stock. Sure honey now if you wait how did this bag of Fuck Off get here?). If only it had free roam, more races, a more varied environment, refillable NOS, the ability to have different cars simultaneously, and you get where I'm going with this don't you.

Need For Speed Underground 2 Man I loved this game since I started playing it at some ridiculously low age and I never stopped loving it and I was right throughout. I love love LOVE this game. I know the map by heart, the soundtrack by heart, the circuits by heart, the upgrades by heart, the starter cars specs by heart, you have no idea. This has been my childhood. This is by far and away the one I played and loved the most, even though due to the needlessly convoluted and completely obscure progression mechanics that childhood never saw me finish it - although I guess that helped me keep playing it, as when I got stuck with no way to progress further I'd just start from scratch again with no clue what to fix. I was able to pick it back up and finish it later on in life, through middle/high school, and later on still through the power of mods I squeezed and crushed and stretched that game like Tumblr did with Danny Phantom episodes. I modded it so much it crashed every ten minutes. I ran it off an iPod Nano. I messed the cars up so bad I'd essentially created new game modes. I managed to make a good desktop computer over a decade younger than the game itself run it at seconds per frame just by editing four wheel coordinates. And now you spoiled bitches can download it for free on somewhere like MyAbandonware (dot com, of course) and give it a try. And I can't recommend it enough. Literally; because if I could, friend of the blog @demoness-one would have done so by now >:(

Need For Speed Most Wanted The best Need For Speed game of all time, according to everyone. Everyone but me. I mean, I did go through it, but it looks bleak, the cars just seem to want to bounce from wall to wall, and I just don't like police chases - it's a game, why would I want a limited number of attempts? Also, they madly stressed me out, so, and here begins a funny story, I abandoned it when unable to rack up enough chase points to challenge the final boss. I picked it back up a while later to find out if it was just me being a baby, and no, I still didn't like it - but luckily I'd learned of the bug where if you park on a certain railing all the cop cars will pile up under you but never bust you, and decided to actually finish what I'd started so long before. Those points racked up, I worked myself through the good hour of bullshit unfairness of the duel with Razor (I have to win every race to win but he can win any race to win? Understandable. hey the bag of Fuck Off's back), even quitting the whole shebang three races in over a wrong input and having to start again, until, after hours of unsaveable progress, I finally was able to win the last race. And did you know that after that, just when you think you're done, you get the biggest, most intense car chase of the whole game? :) Well, I sure didn't, because right after I finished the race the game crashed and I had to do all those five races over again. :) And then I did that and it crashed again and I uninstalled the game and watched the ending on YouTube. :)

Need For Speed Carbon The takes get hotter still: I like this one more than MW. The colors got fixed, I liked the handling better (while obviously not as good as the mighty Underground 2 OF COURSE), drifting, my favorite race mode, replaced drag racing, my least favorite*, and yes, the car chases, and I may even like the soundtrack better? Nah, that's bull, I don't remember much of those two soundtracks at all off the top of my head. But I saw this one to the end and enjoyed it very much. *For the unaware, in every NFS game I played in my childhood, drag races did not give you steering control - to avoid traffic or obstacles, you tapped the arrow keys and the car would switch lanes. So you told the car to move out the way and if it did, good, if it instead took too long and/or had an unappealable loss of control and crashed automatically terminating your race, too bad.

There were also a couple other games there's not much to say about (Ford Streetracing, loved it, V-Rally 3, I think it had some issues and I never did play it, London Racer World Challenge, I recall nothing)... and now we move on to the car games I played since.

Assetto Corsa I've only ever dabbled in it a couple of times, but it's very fun when it works. My hardware is limiting on this front and I think I've some config issues, but when I'll have time to solve those I will be very glad to jump into it - especially because I really love driving simulators. Where with other games you kind of need some external validation of how hard it was to win with the tools the computer gave you -because it's not inherently cool that you beat a game, it was made to be beaten from the start- proper simulators just chuck you into an experience where no accommodation has been made for you (short of the damage level set, that is) and whatever you manage in it is your own accomplishment, not something the game let you accomplish. And on that note...

Richard Burns Rally This game is absolutely fucking incredible. "It's a 2004 game, how engaging a driving experience can it be" enough to make many still call it the best rally simulator out there and one of the best driving simulators period. Enough to motivate thousands of people to keep making a plethora of mods for it every day (which i've never been able to make work lol). Enough to make me seriously recommend buying yourself a wheel with force feedback* just to play this abandonware game (because using anything but a wheel for it is like using anything but a spoon for soup). And to be clear, this game is HARD. It just gives you a brief but extremely good rundown of how to master the driving basics and then have fun around rally stages where, again, the road has not been widened for you, the ditches not been filled, the car has not been programmed not to roll over too easily… essentially, the main way in which they are substantially easier than driving them IRL is the luxury of trial and error. So when, through however many days of trial and error it'll take you, you finally glide through those bumps smoothly enough to wipe the red off that time delta, this commercial flop the dozen-people-team from the Animaniacs GBA game developed when RAM was measured in megabytes becomes the most exhausting, intense, rewarding experience a computer has ever provided me. And a computer has gotten me laid. *I recommend the Logitech G25s, found for well under a dub, and the G27s, a small revision of the G25 with more buttons and a better shifter usually found for not much more (I found mine for 80!). They're from 2004 and 2010 respectively, and the wheel Logitech sells today is just a G27 with more buttons which says it all about how good a budget wheel it is.

TrackMania Nations Forever I hate this game, I fucking despise this game. "Alright, it's the same game we made two years ago with new tracks, and it has no story, opponents, traffic, cutscenes, or really any dynamic beyond checkpoints, a finish and a timer. But even still, there are so many fun mechanics to master anyway, like jump distance control, which you hopefully figure out you have because it's not like there is any tutorial to tell you! Or drifting, which is necessary to beat the best time in one of the last levels - you do it by pressing brake, accelerator and a steering direction simultaneously. Hope you randomly decide to do it autonomously to see what happens and find out that can be faster! And if you don't have a specialized keyboard with more than the normal 2 key rollover, hopefully something possessed you to map one of those controls to a completely different keyboard zone than all the others, or pressing all three will make only two register and you never will find this out! But at least not making any tutorials or the likes and keeping the interface absolute garbage allowed us to have the driving on absolute lock! Well, except for that bug where if you take the fastest line through a corner your car may decide to ragdoll and fuck your run. Oh and also the one where if you land a jump on all four wheels you may randomly lose your speed. Good luck!" I now get why they hate French people. Unfortunately, as for a lot of destructive hatred of mine, it manifests in yet more determination to conquer the little shit. I've gotten author times on every single one of the tracks except the last one, not because it's eight times longer than by far the second longest at an entire goddamn hour but because I wanted an effort that lengthy to be a special occasion and that never manifested. ...Maybe a stream?

Actually, I visited MyAbandonware to check the NFSU2 page and apparently they include a mod that puts the uncensored edits of the songs in the soundtrack and honestly I hella want to play it again just to hear that, so that could also be a cool stream idea if it wasn't a criminal deed to play copyrighted music on stream (I've not kept up with that whole mess, can you do it if you don't keep a VOD?). Or I could stream myself playing Richard Burns Rally and make you go "oh this is HARD hard".

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

#videogames

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kaddyssammlung · 1 month ago

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"The truth is, I want, to want, to live and so do you"

My dear fellow Sleep Token fans and everyone who might also be interested in my little story. I just see many of you struggle. I still do sometimes but mostly I'm doing okay. I also know that many of you relate to the lyrics the same way that I do. Meaning having experiences with mental illness.

I was able to drag myself out of severe addiction problems. At least that's what was on the surface and what everyone could notice.

Maybe sharing how I was able to turn that around will inspire someone?!

This is not some scientific research or something but just me being old and speaking from my own experience.

I'm going to hide this from here on because of the topic and also I don't want this to be too long and I also know that most of you won't care. But I care about all of you that's why I'm writing this.

Just for starters a few things or facts....

I'm almost 37 at the moment and I started slowly spiraling downwards when I was 12. I was not afraid of much so I started stealing alcohol from my parents.

When I was around 14 I started to self-harm. I did not hide it in the beginning because I wanted to see if someone says something. Testing boundaries has always been my thing, or not having any.

When I was 15 I was anorexic. Those three addictions stayed with me until a few years ago. In 2019 I had a big turning point. I have not had anything to drink in a few years now but since last year I did relapse a few times with self-harm, meaning cutting myself.

I don't want to lie to you or pretend that I'm 100% doing okay....it's a bit of a bumpy road.

I was in therapy but it did not go well. I was in psychiatry but it did also not go well. But...the strange thing: I know strange people and one of those is a retired therapist. He recommended that meditation is so great and maybe could be helpful.

So I started to read about mediation in 2010 and tried around a little.

There was something there but I did not want to get better at that time. It took so many times of waking up totally hungover until I had enough. So I started researching like crazy. I made mediation and everything that had to with it my obsession. Seems like a contradiction but it's not. As if it was a new addiction.

I ended up reading every book that Dr. Joe Dispenza ever had written because part of his research is finding out what meditation does to our brain. And then I found more...omg....quantum physics. You can get lost in quantum physics. You know...the obsessions.

I started listening to a lot “spiritual” stuff on YouTube as well. So much there but useless....I also liked all kinds of “spiritual gatherings” that were broadcasted online.....idk..

It did not feel like this was leading me anywhere. But what happened is that I found a will again. Finding the will the end addiction is crucial. When you don't want to change then you're not going to.

I also got better in mediation or in other words, I just sat down and mediated. I got better in not giving into my cravings. It was little successes that made me stronger.

I was able to not drink for longer periods of time. It was alcoholism that kept me busy the longest out of all the addictions.

Falling down and standing up again and doing this over and over but learning something each time that I fell down....I also had phases where it just did not go well at all and I was drunk a lot again.

But form 2019 on it went, more or less, straight uphill until summer of last year. But it was hard. I had so much willpower but it was still so hard quite often.

Last year the traumas that I never faced caught up on me.

Here I am writing to you because of Mister Vessel.....he is authentically himself...I admire that and I'm working on that. And also that spritual teacher that I like so much at the moment. Kerry K she is also very authentic (and her teachings fit so damn well into Sleep Token lore). I'm part of her community for a few months now. It's been...well...intense but it gets better. I don't have anywhere to hide any longer. I have to face my traumas.

There is so much out there.....peeps on YouTube sharing their stories and how they got better. Or books or whatever. Everything is there....don't be afraid to look. You can also ask...me for example....

I always liked so much what Chester sings "the hardest part of ending is starting again". (the song is called waiting for the end)

idk why I just wrote that but it was in the field today. I had to do it :)

#sleep token #personal stuff

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reubyocs · 1 year ago

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[ LETHAL COMPANY AU / OPEN STARTER ]

Your muse finds themselves on a small ship, wearing a heavy radiation + space suit and a two oxygen tanks. They, along with Pete, Eisuke, and Nathan, have to recover scrap from other planets to meet the two day quota. However, each planet they visit has its own series of creatures that threaten the safety of the crew.

If your crew doesn't survive the planet or meet the quota, everyone will be FIRED.

Crews arrive at their destination at 8am, and MUST be back before 12am. The ship will leave automatically, leaving anyone on the ground behind. Each reply from me will include a time indicator.

Actions may have severe consequences, this may include critical injuries or DEATH. If your muse is able to die and that might affect your muses lore, do not consider these threads as "canon". It's just for fun teehee

Muses can be revived permitted their body is returned to the ship before departure. Bodies not rescued from the facilities or moon are left behind and thus- cannot be revived.

You can only visit one moon a day. Choose carefully.

Each scrap item will have a value (V) and weight (W) written in brackets. You cannot carry more than 75 weight.

Every muse will have a walkie-talkie and a flash light.

No overpowered muses. This really means- no muses that can't get injured by different creatures.

-----|||||-----

[ DAY 1 | Moon: 71:Gordion | Time: 0000 | Remaining: 300 ]

The crew had just boarded their ship, having made a delivery to the company. They'd barely scraped the quota, having unfortunately lost their longest serving crew mate on their last moon. While the loss hit the crew hard, they knew they had little time to recover.

They'd just been given a new set of instructions and a brand new quota to meet. Luckily, they'd also been given a new crew mate, someone no one had met before. Timidly, the trio greet their new crew mate before returning to their pre-departure duties.

"Yoo, what is hell is that quota?" Speaks Eisuke, pointing at the board above the radar. He tilts his head to the right a little bit, allowing his only eye to view the quota board with ease. "300 buckaroos? They expect us to recover that much in two days? That's insane."

Nathan, who's spending his time charging the flashlights and walkie-talkies, turns to look towards Eisuke. 300 is a staggering amount to bring back to the ship, especially since most scrap only averages approximately 5 to 15 bucks. He's quite shocked that this is their next quota.

"Look, we'll go to an easier moon first. Where the weather looks nicer." Nathan speaks up. "We can get started slowly and help our new crew mate learn the ropes." He gestures to the new crew mate, smiling warmly at them.

In the back of the ship is Pete. Who is analysing everything on their systems. He's studying the different creatures they've encountered and the different moons they've been to.

"If we do that, then we may not reach our quota at all." Pete speaks with a grumble in his voice as he turns to look at their new crew mate. "Let me read a list of the moons available, then our newbie can decide where we go." Pete leans against the computer terminal, scrolling through the list of moons they can travel to.

"We have:

[ 41: Experimentation / Level: B ] (Easiest)

Abandoned. With an arid environment paired with a thick haze. Notably home to the Bunker Spider and Hoarder Bugs.

[ 21: Offence / Level: B ] (Medium)

Abandoned. With a rough environment that supports highly aggressive creatures.

[ 85: Rend / Level: A ] (Hardest)

No one has ever lived here. It's a frozen wasteland. Unlikely for life to exist... which makes it highly unlikely we'd live."

"So." Pete finishes speaking, folding his arms as he turns to look at his new crew mate. "Where do you want to go?" The crew look curiously, nervous to find out what choice they'll make.

#lethal company AU #rp starter #open starter #not fully accurate to the game i assure you but this is how im coping bc i cant buy the game haha #Pete #Nathan #Eisuke

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sugarywishes · 1 year ago

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My final (and selfish) thoughts/rant about The RUIN DLC (And about the Steelwool Era ig) (spoilers)

PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS LITERALLY JUST MY STUPID OPINION!! You are allowed to agree or disagree, but in all honesty I don't care just don't be rude about it and we'll be cool 😎👍

I ain't gonna lie y'all,,,

The new FNAF storyline is like, a little lame.

Since it's been a few weeks since RUIN came out, I've accepted the fact that yeah, Peepaw Afton is dead, Michael is dead, and now we have new characters and plot ideas.

Which I don't generally mind! FNAF should've totally ended at Pizzeria Simulator (with UCN as a epilogue game). And technically speaking it did end!

And I would've loved to see a new storyline in the franchise!

But oh. Oh Steelwool, I love y'all, you're wonderful for introducing the Glamrocks and Gregory and Cassie and the new set of characters

But why, why are you using stuff from the BOOKS?? 😭😭 more specifically THE MIMIC???

In case you haven't heard, the Mimic entity from the Five Nights At Freddy's book series 'Tales From The Pizzaplex', what it is basically, is FNAF's own Frankenstein's monster. (Super mentally ill dude creates a monster maybe from grief, depends who you ask, then the monster kinda goes haywire after mistreatment from the creator, monster murder rampage ensues!!)

Which on paper is cool and all

But man, IT ISN'T A COOL VILLAIN!!

I'm just gonna admit it! The Mimic as both a character and antagonist isn't neat! I don't find myself being intrigued to the new storyline Scott is following (I dare even say he is just winging it at this point, I'll forever ponder what the original SB storyline was,,,)

For starters, what motive does the Mimic have? What drives it to do what it wants?

Let's use William for example (sorry, not a Will defender but he's an iconic villain), for the longest time in the fandom, we've been assuming he was a child murderer for fun. His motives were simply for amusement, he's a sick rat bastard who wanted to see what killing felt like and he became addicted to it, ala Freddy Kruger or something.

But something far more interesting is when his backstory was revealed (or as revealed as it'll ever be, bless those fan creators who truly carry the fnaf lore with their interpretations) with the Afton family, his history with Henry and that he was a Co-Founder of what is now Fazbear Entertainment (and the mini games!!)

Now the debatingly popular opinion about William is that he was obsessed with immortality, he discovered (probably from Elizabeth or Evan possessing robots) that souls can live on beyond death, he discovered Remnant from that, he killed children to collect more and it backfired on him when he died. But what? He's still alive technically?? Alright!

And then the whole fnaf thing continues because he just doesn't want to die, he always comes back. (Probably metaphorical at this point, but it's funnier and cooler to mean it literally, he's basically a cockroach)

Of course, there's other interpretations of William, like how he was always mentally deranged anyways, it only took one of his children (Evan?) dying, and his sanity plummeted down and down, more bad things occurred to him, and he totally snapped which lead to everything. (I personally love this version of FNAF, it's more dramatic and like- angsty? It's just more narratively tragic yk)

And any rendition of Afton is cool! They make him a scary, interesting villain, which is what he is (suppose to be). The revealed lore about him let's us add onto it to expand his characterization more!

But the Mimic...what does he want again?

Oh, it just likes killing people because...it can? Uh, sure whatever

It's fair to use the argument of 'his creator shunned him and he witnessed the original MCI murders, which caused him to mimic Afton's murderous personality', like he was some fucked up Pinocchio.

But to that I say, that's boring! Because, it's just copying William. It's a MIMIC. It doesn't have it's own character or personality or goals because it is a ROBOT, programmed to copy the behavior of humans (before someone gives me shit about copy and mimic being two different words, they are LITERALLY synonyms!! They mean the same things! Or at least extremely similar)

So basically speaking, the Mimic is literally WILLAM AGAIN! But it's a less cool, boring version of him that's not technically him, it's a watered down version of the previous antagonist!! A CHEAP COPY??

This thing doesn't have an actual motive or plan or goal, it's an intelligent murder machine. Who is presumably just killing because of Edward Cullen, or whatever his creator's name was (or cause of its programming, but that's just as unimaginative) nor does it have a personality that can at least make us engaged with it as a character

Like sure, I don't mind having new antagonists, but why use a BORING robot who not only is described as an unkillable super monster who can brutally kill everyone without trouble like he's a stupid creepypasta OC, but we have far cooler ideas for a villain than an ENDO ROBOT! Like say, oh I dunno, the Fazbear Entertainment CEO? The one everyone has been theorizing about constantly? Who knows who he is! Phone Dude? Sammy Emily?? (Kinda hoping it's none of the previous)

Or just have the company itself be evil! We have countless of options for new opposing forces who are cunning and frightening (like how Vanny should've been, mind controlled villains were fine but it would've been interesting to let her have more screentime,,,)

Anyways, moving on from the topic of the Mimic, I'm also super upset about the idea that, since the stupid Mimic is canon, ALL the TFTP books can be canon. Which means GGY is canon, which means people can tie Greg in with Gregory, WHICH ALSO MEANS people have an actual valid excuse to antagonize him! Again!!

'OooOo I knEW he wAS EVIL thiS WHOle tiME THe booKS CONfirmED IT' Bro, SHUT UP!! Please! Leave this child alone!!

Ever since Security Breach came out I've seen so many people constantly calling Gregory the secret villain, or that he's as vile as Afton

he's like- 12 you guys. He's probably still in 6TH GRADE! If not then 7th, even then, stop comparing him to Satan or whatever, the animatronics were literally attempting to murder him? Just because they were sentient does not make them less of a threat lmao

And I've seen people saying that GGY was Gregory, but he was manipulated or possessed by the Mimic/Glitchtrap (I'll get into that stupid thing in a minute) and to that I say, fine I guess? But most importantly how?? When?? How did he escape his control??

Also AHEM. This is a good time to discuss the fact that it's very likely that Burntrap is actually the Mimic, and unfortunately, so is Glitchtrap.

I don't give a rats ass about Burntrap, so if Mimic was confirmed to be him, I'll accept it. Maybe (I personally think Burntrap should've just not existed, and I already have him as non canon in my AUs so I would've been down for this!)

But Glitchtrap. GLITCHTRAP. Are you kidding me?? The Mimic gets to be 2 VERSIONS OF WILLIAM??

Look, I'm still really, REALLY hoping Glitchtrap and the Mimic are different entities, I will buy every single bit of stupid FNAF merchandise if it means they can be two different characters

And you wanna know something? I 100% believe that maybe, Burntrap and Glitchtrap were literally just meant to be William again. But oh boy, the backlash to this idea scared the shit outta everyone involved, which is why they decided to pull from the books, and they had a villain available who isn't totally unique enough to add in and confuse people more, but who technically counts as a new character who can act like an old one, the Mimic.

Which sucks. Imagine what could've been if they kept Will as Glitchtrap. William managed to escape his personal hell (or he made a digital ghost/version of himself) and now, he can achieve digital immortality, he no longer craves a physical body, hence why Glitchtrap exists. (I also think it wouldve been neat if the only way Glitchtrap could continue existing is by remnant/agony, and since he couldn't do it physically he started possessing the beta testers from Help Wanted to become minions for murder to collect it)

Or better yet, retcon Glitchtrap? Ya know, it doesn't make a lot of sense that a robot, created in the 1980s could become a virus that can control and brainwash people. Even the robots that Henry and William created before they died were a little realistic. They weren't hyper intelligent murder machines (not counting the Funtimes) they were regular animatronics that were possessed by the spirits of dead kids. Which is why they were murderous and walked around at night. It's not like Fredbear could eventually control a computer and virus-ize himself (is that even a real word??)

Edwin was no Albert Einstein. Back then technology was severely limited, so how did the Mimic find out how to put itself digitally as Glitchtrap? Did it 'mimic' a computer virus and simultaneously William/Springbonnie too?? Is the Mimic a program itself and not just a robot?

I'm getting ahead of myself (I need to wrap this up soon 😭😭) so I'll come to my last part of my rant

Now these don't...feel like FNAF games. Sure, the main gameplays back then were mostly just cameras and jumpscares, and the only way we even got lore was through Atari styled arcade games. But that was the charm!

Back then there were barely any horror games that were formatted the way the OG fnaf games were, that's what made it stand out! And that's exactly why so many different mascot horror games try and overtake FNAF's success, and SB and RUIN...Feel just like those other mascot horror games.

Cleary they are using a new style for the new Steelwool era, which I respect. It'll take a real long time to get used to (Not even kidding, whenever I watched a RUIN let's play, it looked like they were playing ALIEN or a generic Sci-Fi action game)

Speaking of Sci-Fi in FNAF, I thought Sister Location was techy, but this game sure proved me wrong!

Uhh...why does the V.A.N.N.I mask even exist? Apparently it's used by employees (so it's not Vanessa's mask) but why the hell would Fazbear Entertainment make a weird ass mask like that? Wouldn't they go all out and just use Freddy as the base instead of some random bunny? (Presumably they don't know how Vanny looks like)

And also, how are we able to just- traverse though the walls?? Are we gonna get a canon explanation?? How can we teleport??? How can Helpi just implant something into us?? What?!?! Are we magical now? Did FNAF just traverse into fantasy at this point

Why are there security nodes in the robots? More importantly, why is the 'final node' in Roxy? I know the robotics and engineering of these games are inaccurate and insane, but at this point it's almost comically ridiculous! Who would think of such an inconvenient way to place security nodes??

And from what I'm hearing, M.X.E.S was created by Gregory and Vanessa, which in concept is awesome as hell

But I ask again, HOW??? Even if both of them were possessed and gained new skills or whatever, they aren't the most techy people I know. Gregory managed to repair Freddy because he was given instructions, and Vanessa?? Like okay she can hijack robots so I believe that maybe she can do it 🤷‍♀️

I swear this game might actually leave me more questions than answers, even more than Security Breach! I probably have a few more complaints in the back of my head, but in all honesty, I know I'm just gonna have to accept the fact that this is how FNAF will continue, and I'll have to get used it (it's actually starting to grow on me the more weeks go by!)

Hopefully I'll end up enjoying the way it turns out once more is revealed in the next games :) (I'd forgive this game if they only hadn't use the Mimic,,,make up a new character for your games :( )

TLDR: Make ME in charge of the FNAF franchise⁉️⁉️💥💥

#fnaf #five night's at freddy's #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy’s #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #steelwool #security breach #ruin dlc #fnaf ruin #fnaf ruin dlc #fnaf rant #fnaf post #rant #fnaf opinion #please let cassie live im begging you 🙏🙏#ruin spoilers

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porcelain-flower · 9 months ago

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Hey guys it's Esther, formerly feitansporcelaindoll. I know I've been away for awhile. Something happened and I wasn't sure if I should make a life update but here it is. Well for starters, I was being accused of some heinous things and because of that I deleted my tumblr.

I was busy dealing with life and my marriage. August of '23 I logged back in, messaged a certain Feitan mutual to ask how they were doing, only for them to essentially say "people said you're a groomer, so I can't talk to you anymore. Bye" and was promptly blocked. So I messaged ANOTHER mutual asking for clarification and was immediately blocked by them as well. Needless to say I was completely confused and caught off guard. Even though I was bored and pretty much done with the HxH fandom, I WAS going to keep my page active for those who enjoyed my content. But these people ruined that. So my page is gone and I will not be making any further content. In truth it was a hyperfixation, an escape from my abusive marriage. But now I'm in a healthy relationship and I don't need an escape.

Yes while you were busy accusing me, I was dealing with my narcisstic, emotionally and sexually abusive, gaslighting husband of 7 years.

And for the record, groomers abuse, manipulate and exploit. I NEVER did that to anyone.

No. It was happening to me.

While you were accusing me, I was dealing with my abuser. And I was scared every minute. He was narcissistic and controlling, to the point that he forbade me from getting tattoos or even cutting my hair. He gaslit me and constantly tried to coerce me and demand sex, despite my refusals. Seven years I dealt with this. Eventually I found the courage to leave him. The day I did, he had followed me to the store beforehand. I packed some essentials and found a friend's house to stay at. I was there for only a week because he found out who I was staying with and starting texting them and dropping off unwanted gifts at the house. So I found somewhere new to stay. I went back to my ex's house one weekend, when I knew he'd be gone, to get most of my stuff. I was terrified so I had my best friend come with. Then my ex came home unexpectedly. I wasn't going to risk being alone with him so I kept her by my side at all times.

But he wouldn't let me grab my belongings in peace. He put his arm between me and the doorway, stopped me from leaving and forced me to talk to him when all I wanted to do was grab my stuff and go.

Finally I got away and moved back to my home state. But the fear was still there. Every time I saw a car that resembled his, I froze thinking he'd followed me again.

I couldn't even give him my real address or phone number. That's how terrified I was of contact with him. I still am.

The day I got the last of my belongings, my ex made it very clear he wasn't letting me go so easily.

You don't know how terrifying it truly is to be married to someone you don't want to be with anymore and they're refusing to let you go. You do not know what real manipulation looks like.

A year after I had left him, he messaged again, asking if I was ready to come home. It took him a few more months to realize I wasn't coming back.

This is what I endured while you were spreading lies about me.

And I'm not playing dumb or playing victim. I have NO IDEA what I said or did that made people think this of me. And who did I supposedly groom?

Unfortunately we live in a world of guilty until proven innocent. And no one was mature enough to message me, show me proof, or let me know what was going on or being said about me so I couldn't even defend myself at the time.

Well there's no coming back once you've been accused, even falsely accused. I won't be active on here. This will be my only post. I'm locked out of my instagram fan page because I cant recover my password. I still have my personal page for those who knew me well enough to message me there. But I won't do fandoms or fan pages ever again.

The two people I talked to the longest and trusted the most were the fastest to accuse me and block me. Funny how that works.

And Hxytun I do wonder why you deleted all your Fei content as well. I was nothing but a friend to you. I listened to every rant, good or bad. Every conversation about your parents, your brother, you move across states.

Excalibur/feitansblood you're no better. You were a petrified little highschooler so I did my best to listen and give you advice because I knew how hard HS was for me. I was only ever a friend, to BOTH of you. And this is how you repay me. You yourself literally called me "mom" because I gave you advice like a mom would. Although I should've known you wouldn't have my back, seeing as you're pretty much Hxytun's lapdog and do anything they say. It's sad really. Also the fact you've been lying about your age on your accounts is shitty. Even a couple years ago when you were 15 you had your age listed as 19 so you could view explicit content. That's called catfishing btw.

But my heartfelt thanks to those who believed me and supported me. Makes me have a little more faith in humanity.

#Anime #Hxh #Hunter x hunter #Feitan #Done with fake friends #Even if it doesn't make a difference I still deserve to share my side #Fun while it lasted #Done with narcissists #Starting to see why he deactivated #Makes me wonder what else you said about me behind my back #You really are a horrible person #Have fun being lonely #Too old for this #Apparently allowing someone to trauma dump on you and giving them advice constitutes as grooming now #Your tumblr is one big pity party #Maybe stop pushing people away #Drama queen #this is hilarious

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timelostobserver · 7 months ago

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@abyssalthreads - God of War Sentence Starters

" do you ever wonder if we're doing the right thing? " There was a moment of Silence as he placed his paperwork on the desk, he finally wanted to ask the question that he was so hesitant to ask anyone. Why him? He will honestly never know.

"Sometimes I Question What heaven is doing lately. It's why I took on the role of slaying the ones who deserve to be in hell the most."

Silence was the first thing the other met...

All before a massive, clawed hand reached out to take the paperwork from his desk. He hated having to deal with those who were outside of his jurisdiction in the Halls. normally it was those like Michael, or his own Ferryman that brought souls here.

But this was new.

At least they made sure to file the right paper work, lest they meet the fallen's wrath.

For the longest time, Azrael, rather now known as 'Hades' let the words hang in the air. Silence being the companion to the response that was no doubt desired. All while eyes behind red-tinted frames scanned over the offered paperwork. Scrutinizing every mark, letter and word.

"It doesn't matter." A low, rumbling tone from the Judge.

"Right or wrong... In this line of work it doesn't matter. Things die, they pass on, they get judged, and that's that." Cut and dry, he spared little reason for hypothetical questioning before even sneering.

"Only just now questioning Sera and her 'wisdom'? My.. what a 'free thinker'." A tone that was obviously taunting. He'd fallen a long time ago for his actions, for what he felt was right when he'd been slighted time and time again because of the Seraphim's LIES.

"Human lives are finite, and it's the job of those of us in the know to ensure it's a smooth process. Be they bound for Heaven, Hell.. or the chains of Tartarus. Right or wrong is subjective, it is human.. and it's below me." The Grim Reaper, a stone cold, 'force of nature'.. The Angel of Death himself had very little reason to muse on such things.

He lost that whimsy a long time ago.

#[ Please Wait Your Turn - Answered Ask ]#[ The Judge of the Underworld - Hades | Hazbin Hotel ]

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dearlymrme · 2 years ago

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Gotta Catch Them... (Copia)

Summary: The headcanons nobody asked for that I'm gonna do anyway. What are the Papa's Pokémon?

I threw in this little bit. Every Papa has what can be called their 'mascot' Pokémon. The one present in all the interviews and magazine covers, and making stage appearances. Their starters are not necessarily their mascots, simply which on their team best represents them.

Also, every Papa has become a Papa in more way than one. In an effort to better prepare them for progeny, they are given an egg that hatches into a pre-evolved form. Can't let his Prime Mover do all the work. It's also to instill this idea of paternity as more than just status to the members of the church.

What happened to Papa's Pokémon after their death? The rumors are they were donated to the Clergy or simply just released. They could be sitting on a shelf in the crypt with their respective Papa's bodies. I can tell you one thing. They all put up a fight.

Copia's Pokémon are free-ranged and not often if ever in their Pokeballs. They are extremely friendly and will often be found either lazing around him or where he frequents.

Starter. He would be so lucky that his started had been blue. He had been given Eevee as a way of saying he had so much potential. Eevee was, of course, loved to pieces. He knows how to play video games! His ribbons are very dexterous, and he can manage a simple game of Pong and Frogger. Catch this big bunny hogging Copia's couch and his lap. Very docile, does not like to fight. Will probably be the easiest one to go down when it comes time for Copia's Pokémon to disappear.

Found in the previous Abbey Copia lived in. He is very gentle and skirts after in Copia's shadow all the time. Had a kind of Coyote VS Roadrunner relationship with Terzo's Pikachu for a while. He was the Coyote. Irony at its fittest that he is the mascot of Copia's legacy.

Raised from an egg, and she loves him dearly. Copia was granted a shiny stone for her soon after his first hit as Papa. Has this habit of trying to brood on him when he is stressed. Catch his hair full of feathers some days when she rests on his head during naps. She is always on his bed and loves nesting in his mountain of pillows. Very friendly and an absolute mother hen, funny how the she has gone from his baby to his mother.

Very fat from Copia spoiling him so often. A huge heckin' chonker. He likes sitting on his shoulder, and when feeling playful, he nibbles his ears. He used to be able to fit in Copia's pocket, but he couldn't anymore. He has his vengeance by nibbling holes in the man's jeans and knawing at his furniture and drywall.

As a child, Copia was lonely in the Abbey he grew up in. Because of his eye and obvious relationship with Nihil, he was ostracized by his peers. And then one day a quiet girl appeared and played with him, for the longest time he thought she was another child of the Abbey but it was this Zorua who took pity on his loneliness. They have been inseparable since.

She has shown up twice. Once before, the Papa's were murdered and again now. She's wild, but there is no denying that she is his. She terrifies him of the future to come. He's thankful for the warning. He gets the warning, but she won't leave him alone and just serves to give him increasing anxiety of his ticking clock. Maybe trying to protect him and maybe just enjoying making him paranoid.

#pokemon crossover #ghost the band #the band ghost #ghost band #my personal headcanons #copia #cardinal copia #papa emeritus #papa emeritus iv #dee writes #this was not intentional #i didn't realize i had made Copia's two powerful pokemon not evolve from leveling but because they love him so fricken much #gotta catch them

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eat3rs · 10 months ago

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#𝐄𝐀𝐓𝟑𝐑𝐒 . . . a semi selective original character as loved by 𝐉𝐎 ( 25 , she/they , virgo ) . inspired by preacher's daughter ( ethel cain ) , bones & all ( film and book ) , and love as consumption . triggering topics will be discussed and tagged accordingly . sideblog to @deathgrippeds .

heavily associated with @redemptioninterlude , @bu11seye , @depictedblue <3

#𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 , standard rules apply . i prefer to write with partners 18+ . i generally prefer to write darker themes and plots , and if that's not you're thing that's totally fine . i'm not picky about faceclaims , though i will not write with those who use faces of people who have passed away . i'm relatively slow when it comes to replies just because i do work fairly often and am trying my best to adapt to a better writing routine . i'm not particular about formatting , though i do prefer to use regular text + medium sized gifs . if my double spacing is a bother to you , let me know , and i'll use regular spacing :~)

#𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 , open starters , wanted opposites , wanted plots , memes , visage , aesthetics , musings , headcannons , interest tracker .

#𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 , dakota vicente cruz , otherwise known as dakota , is twenty-seven years old and born on october 31st, 1996 , in new orleans , louisiana . his current residence is anywhere , living life on the road with no final destination in particular . dakota's a professional musician , with a quiet reputation .

#𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 , it's a grueling task to recall the beginning stages of his life , as all he'd known was to repress every memory . dakota's biological parents were never equipped for the task of a child , considering the fact that his mother worked three jobs after she left home at seventeen , and his father ? well , speaking of his father was never something that left a sweeter taste in his mouth . he was there , whether he wanted to be or not , but became more of a ghost than anything else .

dakota always knew that he was different , and for the longest time he always chalked it up to the fact that his homelife was less than ideal . he'd only ever known violence at the hands of his father . a drunken idiot who could never seem to keep his hands to himself . dakota never quite comprehended why his mother stuck around , and why she even went on to carry another one of his children . it was aggravating to bare witness to , to watch the way that she loved so fervently that she was willing to risk her own sanity to give her children the concept of a perfect family .

but there was more , wasn't there ? something that burned in his veins that made it awfully hard to keep composed . he'd learn to distract himself from that certain hunger . learning music , immersing himself in sports . for the longest of time , he'd held out . he never bit when every fiber of his being begged for just a simple taste . a good boy he was , and how his mother fawned over him despite her own inability to love herself . all that love was saved for her children , and dakota had grown to resent her for it .

but being smart and being talented wasn't enough to really keep him tightly wound enough to bite back at his father , who had grown resentful of the way that dakota had seemingly begun to play the role of a father figure in his younger sister's life . all that anger and all that rage made that peculiar craving grow stronger the older he'd grown to be . it happens all without much warning , without much thought .

it's a normal evening , where his mother comes home five minutes later than she had communicated . dakota always braces himself for the worst whenever things like that would happen . his father harbored some seething insecurity issues , where five minutes away from him meant five minutes in someone else's bed . it starts as a quiet argument , hushed and in the kitchen where neither dakota nor his sister could really distinguish what was said . it always started that way , and dakota would be the one to send her off to her room and sit close by , waiting for the moment it escalated .

and to be expected , it escalated . it never mattered how many times that his mother insisted on dakota not stepping in , he would always find himself prying his father's dirty hands from off of her . dakota had grown acquainted to the thrown punches from his father , and it was never anything that phased him . though there was a split moment in which he felt far too consumed by his anger ; how his father could preach about a merciful god every sunday , but come home and show no mercy to the family that he had created . the anger was skin deep , seething , begging to be felt .

even in the face of this overwhelming fear to protect his mother from the monster within himself , he could no longer hold back what was destined to become of him . he sends his mother out , with his father pinned down against the cold tile of the kitchen floor . he tells her to leave with his sister , to get as far away as possible from the home that they shared .

it was the first time dakota remembers eating . it was the first time that he had fully come to the realization that the difference that he felt in himself was something bigger than he expected . how could he ever explain himself to his mother ? his sister ? the two people in his life that really adored him for all he was . could he ever trust himself to be around them ? to let them get that close ?

he thinks on his feet , cleaning up after himself and driving his father's truck as far away from louisiana as he can . he calls his mom from a payphone outside some shitty dive bar in mississippi , tells her that she can come back home and tells a story of his father storming out the door . he explains how he's leaving town , and how he can't stomach the thought of living in the city he'd grown up in any longer . his mother cries , begs for some other resolution . it's the first time he remembers the pain of a heartbreak . he speeds up the inevitable , growing older and growing more tired of having to provide for everybody but himself . it's selfish , and he hates it , but not once has he ever made time for himself .

he takes the drive to chicago , with the savings he'd acquired and whatever he pick pockets from the nameless strangers he feasts on on the way . finds himself playing small open mics in random bars across the drive , and he's never been shy and has always been overwhelmingly charasmatic . it's no wonder that people take a liking to him , and it's no wonder he's found himself a quaint little fanbase that takes a liking to his aimless endeavors through tiny towns and nameless cities .

in chicago with nothing but a shitty old truck and and a dream . it's the longest he's stayed in one place , trying his best to lay down some roots just to build himself up enough to leave . he bites back the hunger , making sure to be as careful as possible for as long as his body allows . somehow it works , through all that struggle & through all that guilt .

after years of patience and dilligence , he makes a name for himself . an artist and a mystery . one big break and he's the next big thing , and he takes that and runs with it . quite literally . sifting through the states and making temporary homes in small towns , because it's easier this way . finds the time to visit home , and makes peace with his mother and sister despite their confusion about that night . finds himself right back in the position of taking care of them , moving them from out of louisiana to indiana . somewhere quiet . somewhere where the ghosts of their pasts don't seem to haunt them . he keeps them away from the light . the attention was never meant for them , and he's always been fiercely protective of his own blood .

past his own traumas , he remains the same . someone with a lighthearted sense of humor and a heart several sizes too large for his body . even with being showered with poor examples of love , he knows the difference between right and wrong . quietly yearning for the one thing he never really got to see . nor experience . evident in his music , simply evident in the way that he carries himself .

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