#uty fanfic
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jester-program · 9 months ago
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Little funny comic for fanfic
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Also this
I conspired with @ennyxy to give @shadeofsilentfire a heart attack, it worked!
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starlos-hat · 11 months ago
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If lost, return to... (Starlo x Ceroba) Masterlist
https://archiveofourown.org/works/53685502/chapters/135899026 - Chapter 1 https://archiveofourown.org/works/53685502/chapters/136037836 - Chapter 2
Will be updated as chapters come out! this will be pinned as I tend to post/reblog a lot and I don't want it to be buried under my other stuff... Semi-irregular posting schedule, but you can expect some updates on the weekends :) THANK YOU TO @timetogetfeisty for co-writing!! she literally wrote 75% of the first chapter when I couldn't pick it up... she will be co-writing the rest of the fic with me as well so please give her some love ^_^
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uty-textboxes · 5 months ago
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Chujin & the Blue E1
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Box5-Dot2: "Your husband [was] a brilliant man."
Box8: " That foul creature got [what] he had coming."
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Note: This is all stuff I uploaded to the Internet on other platforms before. But my Imgur account is being weird, and Redditt sometimes blurs the image on mobile, so I'm reuploading everything here as a backup.
Next>
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sexylinoleum · 4 months ago
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Teaser art I made for a future chapter of my fanfic, Consequences of My Actions. You should read it if you like UTY fanfics, I've been told it's pretty good.
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v01dblad3 · 9 months ago
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Starlo angst? Who could have guessed?
Just letting y'all know that I am very close to being done with another starlo angst oneshot that's been in the makings for a while!
I've been working on like three different ones, so it's taking a little longer than usual, but i'm pretty proud of how this one has gone, so it should be out very very soon :]
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diamonddeputy · 7 months ago
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In which Ceroba does more than just send Clover a worried warning about the King, and goes after them herself. She couldn't have expected what she would find, or how much it would remind her of her past failures.
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nonhumanresources · 11 months ago
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Snowfall
Short Undertale Yellow fic about trying to move on. Spoilers for the pacifist ending! This isn't everything I want to write about Yellow for sure, I've got at least one more idea I've been toying with, but I was listening to the soundtrack and feeling stuff. It's not much but I've been thinking about the characters a lot so it's nice to get something down on the page.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Snow fluttered downwards, flakes tumbling over themselves in their haste to join the building drifts. It sank through the air, some snowflakes lagging behind others, apprehensive. The flurries twisted around and around, eventually scattering across the treetops and paths in even layers, like sand. Or ash. Or dust. 
Martlet let the snow collect on and around her. She’d have to shovel later, tossing the buildup off her balcony to keep the fragile wooden beams from snapping. Those had been built… what was it, three years ago now? Itching for space, she’d torn down a wall and repurposed it into an exterior patio with uneven handrails and mismatched floorboards, held up by a tree and too few poles. Nowadays, she could see the flaws in the construction; too-shallow angles, half-pounded nails, stress points with naught but a single board hastily screwed into position keeping the whole thing up. Martlet prefered to pay attention to the other details, though. From where she was sitting, she could see down, just between the handrails on one of the poles, there was a nick in the wood. That was where she had taken a chunk out of it with her carving knife when she dropped a mallet on her talons. Further down, there was a section with evenly spaced nails, save for one that was bent in half. That was Chujin’s work. He’d been so excited when his wife had shown up that he’d missed the last nail in his haste to wave hello. 
She sighed, closing her eyes, feeling the snow accumulate. 
Somewhere not far off, Marlet heard wood scraping against wood. Front door, she thought immediately, knowing that particular sound by heart. She ignored it; the balcony was on the front of the house, so whoever it was would have seen her up here anyway. Sure enough, the door behind her opened moments later. There was the sound of clawsteps and the swish of fine cloth. 
“You’re not at your post.” Ceroba’s clipped tone was short, but that didn’t indicate annoyance. She was just like that. Martlet heard more rustling cloth, and the creaking wood told her that Ceroba had sat down beside her, nearly silent. She often moved like that these days. 
Martlet wanted to sit in silence for a while. She’d been doing that already, after all, besides briefly greeting the balcony when she’d sat down. Her beak had other plans, though. 
“You ever wonder about where it all comes from?” she asked. She liked to imagine her voice swirling out like the snow, laying across those who could hear in a soft blanket, conveying its meaning through its delicate frigidity. It didn’t; it was just about as loud as she normally spoke. It was so hard to capture the way she saw it all in her head, even with her own voice. 
“The shiverstones in the cavern roof,” Ceroba responded without hesitation. Martlet imagined her staring up through layers of snow, ears tilted back, a snowflake or two settling on her nose and melting in her breath. It was very picturesque. “Water-laden air is sent up by the lava in Hotland, where it freezes and falls in Snowdin. Apparently part of what keeps the Dunes so dry is the wind that movement creates. Chujin would talk about it when we visited, sometimes.” 
Martlet stayed still. She imagined Ceroba frowning at her. (She was right about that one.) 
“This is a riddle again.” 
“It’s not a riddle,” Martlet pointed out. 
“Fine,” Ceroba sniffed. “Further back then. The humidity required for this kind of snow comes from Waterfall. The water from rivers and streams collects into the lake and the fens, where it’s picked up by the wind and carried through here.”
“Yeah,” Martlet nodded. 
“But, that’s still a definite answer. You don’t wonder about facts.” She could see exactly how her friend’s ear twitched when she used that tone—some mix of what might be frustration, but might be humor, too. Or maybe something else entirely. Ceroba tended to keep an unreadable demeanor when she could. “So, keep going. The Waterfall cavern is largely tougher minerals, with slick, unforgiving walls, except for the limestone veins that have been worn away by the water flow. The main river emerges underground, but at least as much seeps down from—”
“The Surface,” Martlet whispered. Ceroba was silent. 
By now, Martlet’s head feathers felt warm. They’d been cold at first, then frigid as snow melted into them, but once a thick enough layer had formed, it had warmed right back up. The snow made for a good insulator. Or maybe she’d just gotten used to it. 
“You’re thinking about that day.” 
Martlet sighed. She was. She had been, every single day since. It was months later, now, and she still couldn’t believe that it had only lasted… what, nine hours? Ten? According to Dalv, Clover had only been in the Underground for about an hour and a half before entering Snowdin, and according to some eyewitness reports she’d been so wrapped up in puzzle maintenance that she’d missed them by a hair on multiple separate occasions. Had she turned around, she’d have met Clover and had an extra thirty minutes with that knowledge. 
She didn’t expect that to hurt so bad. 
When she finally opened her eyes, Ceroba was staring at her, gaze sharp and discerning as it always was. How was it that the fox had more of an eagle eye than the bird? There was no snow on Ceroba’s clothes, and it had melted in a small aura around her kimono. Seeing Martlet’s face, she sighed and turned, staring out over the treetops. Her paws curled along the edge of the balcony, tapping on the underside of the wood.
“Yeah. Me too.” With her deeper voice, when she spoke softly, it came out in a growl. Chujin had once confessed that he’d convinced Ceroba he’d suffered an ear injury at the Steamworks and gotten her to whisper for a whole week just to hear it. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever not been thinking about it,” Martlet sighed. 
“None of us have, Martlet,” Ceroba admitted. ��It’s kind of hard to forget.” 
“I noticed,” Martlet grumbled. She hunched forwards, wings on her knees, and stared down into her yard. “So many monsters are so happy. Almost every time a human has shown up, it’s been a disaster, either for us or for them. A slaughter or a rampage. But when it’s neither, I can’t even…” she took in a shaky breath. “I’ve been thinking about the water a lot. Clover, they didn’t even hesitate when I said that we had to ride on Ava. Heck, I tipped the boat more than they did.” 
“You aren’t known for your grace, dear,” Ceroba interjected. 
Martlet gave her a sardonic stare. “Thanks. The point is, I seriously doubt it was their first time on a boat, you know? No one has that much confidence the first time. Do you think…” 
“They were some sort of sailor, up there?” Ceroba guessed. Martlet just shrugged and hunched forwards further. 
“I don’t know. I mean, it’s a stupid thought, I guess. I’ve just been… yeah. Wondering. That’s all.” Martlet slipped a nail from her pocket, fiddling with it and brushing it through the feathers on the tips of her wings. 
Ceroba mulled over it while Martlet sulked, taking her time to answer. This was always how it went; Martlet would run through a series of tangents, and her friend would come up with some sort of swift response that helped her narrow down her thoughts. At least, that was how it had been back before they’d stopped talking.
This time, Ceroba didn’t offer up any wisdom. She only sat and stared out at the trees. “I can see why you like it up here.” 
Martlet sighed. “Yeah.” 
The snow continued to fall. It was morbid, in a way. Falling was a symbol of death in the Underground. Falling down was the start of it. There was a while afterwards, for most monsters, but eventually, they were nothing more than dust. Unlike the snow, though, their dust rose upwards, towards the myths of avenging angels and the dark cavern and, maybe, someday, through layer upon layer of mica and shale and marble and rich ore, to the sun and the Surface. That was how you knew it was snow, not dust. It settled. 
Even the first human had fallen down. Every time, one after another, all six had fallen, never referred to by another term, sharing the literary fate of monsters themselves. It was true, every time, too. They fell. Killed, vanished, or… allowed to fade. 
Clover hadn’t turned to dust. Martlet knew that all too well. The cold pierced her feathers, and she shuddered. 
“How do you stand it?” she choked out, tears threatening to spill. “Chujin. Kanako, your family, they’re gone, yet here I am acting like this after a kid who showed up that day is gone. I… I barely even knew them. I abandoned them in the Dunes! And here I am, months later, and I, I haven’t even written in my, my journal, there’s feathers all over, I can’t stop… stop thinking about them, what I wanted to say, so much—”
Crack. Martlet shrieked, wings flapping. Ceroba hadn’t moved, but she’d tightened her grip so heavily on the edge of the floorboards that they’d snapped in her paw. She slowly unlatched her paw, brushing the splinters from her fur and placing it back down next to the ruined board. 
“It’s… hard,” she grunted.
“Er. Sorry,” Martlet said sheepishly. 
Cerboa chuffed, acknowledging the apology. “It helps to have friends.” 
“I mean, I do have those…” 
“Yeah, I know,” Ceroba responded. She took a moment to respond. “Look, Clover’s gone. We can’t change that. I spent a very long time trying to get Kanako back, and I nearly killed the kid over it.”
Martlet frowned. “If this is supposed to be helping—”
Ceroba interrupted her again. “I get it. I’m not the most consoling, okay? Only Kanako could get that side of me out.” She tapped her claws on the wood again, tracing a semicircle around the splintered board. “Clover gave us a gift, Martlet. The gift. Everything. I really didn’t get it for a while. Honestly, it made me furious, knowing that they took away my chance only to throw it right back in my face. I couldn’t even begin to realize what made a kid their age so obnoxiously noble.”
Martlet nodded. She’d seen how kind Clover was firsthand.
“It was Kanako that helped me figure it out. She…” Ceroba swallowed. “Kanako, she had the exact same look on her face when she asked me to let her help that Clover did that day. A deep-seated need to do what was right.” 
“But that’s what I can’t get over!” Martlet burst out, trying to find her words. “I—we let a child give up their soul, Ceroba. I don’t care about the stupid barrier or Asgore or the Royal Guard or anything, because what does it matter when all that we accomplished was convincing a kid that the only way to help is to die for the cause?!” 
She was standing. When had she stood up? Snow slipped from her head and smacked her beak, falling to the ground and filling some of the holes left by her talons. Tears followed the same route and splashed in the snow. Martlet started to pace, Ceroba remaining motionless. She tapped the nail against her thigh with agitation. 
“Maybe it’s not… it’s not worth it. We live okay, down here. Maybe if it means letting children die, I don’t want to destroy the barrier.” She knew it was a bad idea to speak about that kind of thing; monsters avoided you with that kind of talk, and in a place like the Underground, isolation was a torture all on its own. Ceroba, though, just nodded. 
“Perhaps it isn’t. That does not bring back my family, though. So perhaps instead we should make it worth it,” she stated, even voice cutting through Martlet’s flurries like a hot knife in the snow. 
“How? How are we supposed to change anything?” she demanded, stepping up to the handrail and gripping it with her wings. It bowed under her weight. “I couldn’t even stop Clover.” 
“You asked how I stand it,” Ceroba recounted. “I stand it because if I don’t, that means inaction. And inaction means stagnation. I let myself live in an Underground that allows children to sacrifice themselves for strangers. I don’t intend on letting that Underground claim any more. Perhaps that doesn’t help you, but that’s why I continue on.” She stood up, and despite being several inches shorter than Martlet, she managed to carry so much more weight to her. It was like she’d gone off and lived three times as much as Martlet had when they’d parted ways. It was unnerving, at times. She folded her arms, leaning on the handrail as well, and a small piece of wood splintered off and fell to the snow-covered yard below. 
“Yeah.” Martlet took in a deep breath, letting go and wiping her face with both wings. “Yeah,” she sniffed again. “I think I get it.” 
“Good. And Feathers… keep wondering. Maybe we’ll get some answers someday.” Ceroba squeezed her upper wing, her palms hot. The nickname warmed her heart
Martlet nodded. “Thanks.” 
“You’re welcome. Now, about the actual reason I came here—”
“Ohmygosh, sorry!” Martlet startled. “I didn’t even ask!” 
Ceroba waved dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. Starlo and the others have gotten it into their heads that they need some sort of mechanical horse in the Salon. I told them that it was dumb but they wouldn’t stop pestering me until I offered to go pick up an expert.” 
“An expert? Where are you—oh! Oh, me!” Martlet grinned. “Mechanical horse. Yeah, I think I can do that! Let’s see, I’ll need my saw, nails, pulleys…” she trailed off, counting on her feathers, then switching to her talons as she took off, sending snowflakes soaring upwards into the cool air. So enticing was the project that she didn’t even think to say goodbye, already doing mental calculations.
Ceroba watched her circle down to her toolshed and start pulling out all manner of DIY paraphernalia. A distraction would be good for the bird. It would be good for everyone, honestly. She turned back to the stairs, leaving the view behind, and went to go help pile tools into a wagon. 
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a-scaly-troublemaker · 8 months ago
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Interest Check for Shooting Stars.
First paragraph of the entire fic. I have Dark Reader on at all times so I don't burn my eyes out. Disregard the font, also: It is the Comic Sans writer hack. It actually has made writing a bit easier.
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I may rewrite elements of this before it gets ported to Ao3, for eloquence and for erasing as many instances of 'was' as humanly possible.
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kintrash413 · 9 months ago
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I finally finished it!!! my Undertale Yellow Underfell fic that ive been working on basically since the game came out <3 The fic is completely done, so you could read it all right now. excerpt from chapter 1 under the cut!
Clover opened their eyes slowly. The light above was far away and bright, and their entire body was sore. They sat up slowly, and in a sudden moment of clarity, their hand flew to their head.
It was still there. Their brand new hat, that they got just yesterday. Further inventory checks revealed they still had the missing poster in their pocket, and the stolen gun by their hip.
They let out a breath of relief that they hadn't lost anything, before finally taking in their surroundings.
Clover was sitting in a soft pile of yellow flowers, and beyond them was a small cave. Never the fan of small spaces, Clover got up and started walking down the narrow tunnel.
The tunnel opened up quickly, thankfully. They wandered forward slowly, their footsteps echoing against the walls. …No, that wasn't an echo.
Clover reached for their pistol, but before they could properly get it in their hands, a monster had already emerged from the other side of the cave.
She looked almost… no, they had to be imagining things. Either way, her presence had a way of calming them down.
She introduced herself as Toriel, and looked almost as surprised as Clover was.
“You must've taken quite a fall,” she offered empathetically, walking towards them slowly as if approaching a wild animal. Well, their hand was still on their gun. “You poor child…” Once the distance was closed, she suddenly enveloped Clover in a hug.
They froze, caught off guard. It was unfamiliar, and yet, they felt like they'd been hugged like this dozens of times before. They felt like crying by the time Toriel pulled away.
“Come with me,” she offered, thankfully taking Clover's hand in hers. “Let me show you around the Ruins.”
She led the way out of the cave, and the next room opened up much further, finally shining light onto the purple concrete and red flowers that they walked around, favoring the grand stairs at either side of it.
They took the left staircase.
Toriel led the way through a couple puzzles- they all seemed relatively simple, up until the lever that Toriel told Clover to click refused to work.
“You must've done it wrong,” Toriel suggested, so they tried a couple more times to the same non-result. “No no no,” she said finally, patience wearing thin, “That's the wrong one.”
Had they clicked the wrong one? Without thinking too hard on it, Clover moved to the other lever and pulled.
The floor disappeared under their feet, and suddenly again, they were falling-
Their head throbbed, Toriel was saying something but it was difficult to hear her over the heartbeat in their ears.
Slowly, so very slowly, Clover sat up, just in time to watch the poster slip down the cliff. They tried to chase after it, but the sudden movement made the pain in their head flair up, forcing them back down.
The poster was far out of sight by the time Clover finally made it to their feet. It was darker down here, especially as they wandered further away from the crack in the floor- ceiling?
As they walked through the darkened Ruins, suddenly, a flower popped up. Not only that, but a flower with a rather concerned face.
“Are you alright?” He asked.
Too confused to do much of anything else, Clover only nodded.
“You look like you took quite a tumble! Don't worry, let me heal you.”
And suddenly, a soft warmth washed over them. Once it disappeared, they were left slightly colder, but the pounding in their head was gone. They stood up a little straighter.
“I'm Flowey!” The flower explained further. “If… I can help you, by healing you. And getting you out of-” he gestured to the surrounding area with his leafs, “Here.”
Clover hesitated.
This flower certainly had to be a monster. But… of the two monsters they'd met thus far, both had offered to help them. Perhaps they were wrong to think them cruel? The idea was too heavy to think too much on now. Instead, they nodded again.
“You don't talk much, do you?” Flowey asked with a tilt of his head- petals? Several of which were torn. “What's your name?”
“Clover.”
“Well, Clover, let's get started! Just bring me with you, and I'll lead the way.”
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timetogetfeisty · 10 months ago
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what is up guys
I’ve been working on something for a little while.. and it’s done now..
there will be more chapters ajpkamsjskk I just don’t know how this works yet
thank you to my beta reader @starlos-hat!! go read if lost return to
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honeyedclementine · 27 days ago
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you're so lonely, i can fix that
pitfighter!vi x f!reader, smut, stone top!vi mentions of caitvi, act 1-2 spoilers usage of 'good girl' ( one shot, 1.1k words) ageless blogs, minors, and men dni
reply to be added to my tag list ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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vi had almost certainly been your favorite addition to the roster of fighters in this dim arena sat in the lowest pits of the undercity. you were a regular viewer of the fights, you had seen plenty of people come and go. you watched the strongest fighters get cleaned off the floor in bloody heaps. but none of them came even close to her.
you were more than just a viewer, of course, you had your connections that brought you a bit closer to the fighters than most. not that you needed those connections to get close to vi. a few weeks into her stint in the pits, you ran into her at the club, watching her drink herself to death. you wondered how someone like her would end up down here, so down in the dumps. you didn't let her reach the end of the bottle before you offered your... comfort.
there was nothing to it, of course, just blowing off steam after fights and what not, but by gods was it some of the best sex you'd ever had in your life. you thought it was only going to happen that one time, of course, but then she caught your eye after a fight, blood dripping from her nose, and next thing you knew you were back at her apartment again.
now, you linger in the doorway, arms crossed as you watch her submerge her bloodied knuckles in ice water, wraps still on. you both know why you're here, but you find yourself making conversation anyway.
"what do you fight for?" you ask, your voice a low drawl. you wait there in the doorway, waiting for her permission. you watch her back heave as she catches her breath, the dark ink of her tattoo disappearing behind the binding around her chest. you ache to see all of it, to dig your fingernails into the ink.
"to forget," vi says with a huff, turning to face you over her shoulder. "you should know everyone this far down is running from something."
she nods slightly and you step into the room, letting the door slam shut behind you with a resounding thud. "or someone?"
vi turns back around. you approach slowly as if creeping towards a caged animal, hand extended before landing softly on her shoulder. you kneel down behind her, pressing your lips to her shoulder and then her neck, whispering, "you're so lonely, i can fix that."
this is all it takes for her to turn to you, a firm hand splaying across your neck and collarbone, her lips, teeth, and tongue attacking the flesh of your neck. the two of you don't kiss—you honestly prefer it this way. you'd rather be a warm body to her than have her pretending you're someone else.
you kneel on the floor, pressed up against the bench she had been sitting on—the old wood digging into your back as she kisses down your neck and chest, nearing the neckline of your low-cut top.
"fuck, vi," you whimper as her teeth sink into the crook of your neck, a sharp hiss of pain falling from your lips. your hands tangle in the nape of that black hair—every time you do this, your fingers come away smeared with whatever paint or grease she uses for this, but you never mind bearing the mark of her.
the two of you never get very undressed as she goes for your belt, shoving you further down against the hard floor with a hand behind your head to make sure you don't make too harsh of a contact. your nails dig harshly into her back, leaving faint red scratches all along the black ink. she moans against your neck at the pain, her hand dipping into your pants and immediately going for the slick wetness between your legs.
you let out a terse moan as she explores your folds, feeling the roughness of her calloused fingers against you. she only teases your clit for a moment before two fingers dip into your entrance, pushing into you with little warning. your teeth sink into your lip so hard you taste blood, hips arching to her touch as you run your hands along her tattooed back and biceps, feeling the muscles flex as she fucks into you with little mercy.
you never mind the roughness of her, in fact, it only turns you on more. your hands claw at her and she moans at the pain, a noise that coils low in the pit of your stomach as her fingers pump in and out, spreading outside of you as her blunt nails scrape at your inner walls, hitting every spot that drives you absolutely crazy. she sits between your legs, one thigh pressing up against your aching center as she fucks you, only creating more pressure.
"gods," you moan, the word sounding wrecked and broken as it falls from your lips.
"good, good girl," she moans against your neck, adding a third finger on her next inward press. "you take me so well."
the words go straight to your cunt, a wretched moan tearing itself from your throat as you relish in the pleasant burn of the stretch. you already know you're not going to last long, not with her fucking you like this. you can feel her rage, her guilt, her shame. you take it all, content to keep her warm while she waits for someone else.
she hovers above you, dangerously close to your lips as she watches you come beneath her fingers, your orgasm ricocheting around your body like a stray bullet. you clench around her fingers, desperate for her to keep fucking you even as you spill over her palm and down her wrist.
when she pulls out of you, vi brings her fingers to her lips, her tongue starting at her wrist and following the dripping lines of your slick before she takes her own bloodied and split fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. you bite your lip at the sight, head falling back against the concrete floor. absentmindedly, your hands come to your belt, tugging everything back into place. she doesn't ask you to touch her and you don't offer—you learned fairly early on that she won't let you.
"fuck," you breathe out, catching your breath as she stands. you push yourself back up onto your elbows, looking up to see vi offering you a hand. you take it and let her help you up, feeling a bit unsteady on your feet. "whoever broke your heart made a serious—"
"don't," vi shakes her head, sounding defeated. she sits back down on the bench, but you remain standing, just staring down at her. she looks up at you softly and you can see the sadness that resides in those eyes. "see you after tomorrow's fight?"
you offer a half-hearted smile, taking the invitation for what it is. "always."
tag list: @puppyels @njm63522 @fict1onallyobsessed
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th3secr3th1story · 2 years ago
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geto when he finds you awake in the middle of the night
it was sometime during the dark hours when you found yourself awake, your throat begging for a tall glass of ice cold water.
the only problem was that you were being held captive by geto's entire body. he always claimed to be the big spoon ("darling, it's my job to protect you in your sleep," he'd say whenever you asked him to switch), but most mornings you'd find him sprawled on top of your body--you both knew he'd always succumb to your head scratches.
huffing, you rolled his body off of yours, barely managing to untangle your limbs. ensuring that geto was still asleep, you slid out of bed and quietly made your way to the kitchen.
you hadn't even finished putting ice into the cup when geto nearly took the life out of you.
"why are you up?" he grumbled, "it's the middle of the night."
barely suppressing a yelp, you whispered, "i'm just thirsty, suguru. go back to bed, i'll be there soon."
you turned back to the sink to fill your cup, still desperate for a cold drink. geto came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your shoulder with a deep sigh.
"alright, angel. but i'm staying here with you."
the two of you stood there like that for a few minutes as you savored the frigid water while geto tried his hardest not to fall asleep again, relishing in your warmth.
"okay, suguru, i'm done. we can go back," you say lightly, nudging his head.
he merely grumbled and picked you up, walking back to your shared room.
geto, being the gentleman that he is, placed you under the covers and kissed your forehead despite his drowsiness. he practically stumbled into bed, too tired to pretend he wanted to be big spoon at this point.
he flopped onto you, encircling his arms around your body.
"you are not getting out of this bed for the rest of the night."
"but suguru, what i have to pee?" you whined. "i just drank like, three glasses of water."
"don't care. hold it in," he mumbled, already falling back asleep.
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starlos-hat · 11 months ago
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i drew a moment from if lost return to chapter 1 AHAHA read it here!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53685502/chapters/135899026
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uty-textboxes · 5 months ago
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Chujin & the Blue E2
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Box3: "But she didn't [play] dating sims before your death?"
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<Previous | Next>
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sexylinoleum · 8 months ago
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Fanart for a very epic UTY fic called Return to Form.
It's unorthodox as far as UTY fics go but it's really well written, and I might make more fanart for it tbh.
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v01dblad3 · 8 months ago
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dude i gotta let you know rn your undertale yellow fanfics r so cool I would pay money to read more of that omg (please continue hitting our favorite cowboy with a stick its super funny)
AGHHHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH
I'm genuinely so happy that people enjoy them :]
I shall indeed keep hitting our favorite cowboy with a stick; I actually have another oneshot in the making! I hope to have that done soon, haha!
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