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Warhammer 40k: Conquest - What Lurks Below Expansion - Corrupted Teleportarium by Alexandr Elichev
#Warhammer#40k#Warhammer 40k: Conquest#What Lurks Below#Corrupted Teleportarium#Chaos#Chaos Space Marines#Traitor Space Marines#Heretic#Heresy#Sci-Fi#FFG#Fantasy Flight Games#Games Workshop#Alexandr Elichev
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Twelve chapters in already!! I feel I've neglected pushing this fic on y'all. It's actually one of my favorites lol, so please go read!
To entice you, I'm including some art!
From Chapter 3:
From Chapter 6:
Eagle eyed followers may recognize this one ⬆️ as a redraw of the first art of this fic that I did. I'm SO happy to see how much I've progressed in just the last five months! 🥰
And from Chapter 10:
Tempest is a certifiable menace no matter who's around him lol.
I am also working on some Survive the Drowning Deep art, which is, according to my AO3 stats, my most popular fic??? Wild...
#my art#sonic the hedgehog#fanart#fankid au#mephourge#tempest the hedgehog#mephiles the dark#mephiles fanart#scourge the hedgehog#fanfic#fanfic art#kassim the jackal#sonic fanfic#sonic fanart#sonic oc#what lurks below
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*informed Keith ( @thecutecryptidvtuber ) about what was on Lana's computer* *has been keeping up on reports from the cyberspiders while trying to deal with the rest of the ESC chaos, so they see that Dr. Vain (@cr0wsvain ) is now missing too* *has overhead stirrings of rescue operations moving out for England, including Ko (@listacole) * *Octayve (@nugget-of-terror ) is still away as far as they know*
*pacing the locked sub-basement 5.5, restless, in a terrible mood from being worn thin and pulled in so many directions for search and rescue most the day* *their bandages ripple continuously in agitation, intermingled with brief glitches*
The Day is less than two weeks away. You cannot risk everything for strangers! It's not even been a month; they're all strangers!
[a power washer rests near the couch; a dress hangs off a wardrobe]
[a sheet of smiley stickers is held under a cupcake sculpture; cookie faces look on from a new decoration nearby]
[a present, half finished, is strewn on the couch; the first present even thought about in 20 years]
[little things scattered everywhere: useless for The Project, given simply because someone thought they might like it]
Even if they weren't, you have abandoned people before. What is three more? A facility more? People are just useful tools, passing faces, shadows that fade. The people you meet don't matter, never matter; only one thing ever matters.
[a glow comes from the crack under the door leading to the bedroom, where The Project has taken shape and waits for the day; a journal rests in that room, tucked away safely and securely]
You don't love them, can't care about them...
[several paintings from the Christmas party have recently been hung up; a beach towel is draped over a chair]
You risked a second trip into a hostile research facility to get that generator for the portal room. You've been making plans in the hopes that the least amount of harm will happen if everything goes wrong again...
[the radioactive frogs are tucked safely into the bathtub; their croaking echos gently, soothingly into the living room]
*the bandages settle and tighten, the glitches slow and stop*
There will be SCP Foundation members there...though 500 janitorial cyberspiders could handle that problem.
If Wormwood can kill Lana, he can probably kill you...though you've tanked most thing that are lethal so maybe not.
What if you kill someone you don't mean to...though you just need to keep it together, focus on someone or something, like the feeling of holding a leech.
*looks at the power washer, the cookies and the present*
*looks at the bedroom door, The Project, the only thing that ever mattered*
I'm sorry for this selfish choice.
*setting out for England*
#The Janitor (ESC)#What Lurks Below#((ooc: thought this needed to live here rather than the main feed :3 ))
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What lurks below?
Babes Week 2023, Day 4
#BeetleBabes Week 2023#Babes Week 2023#Beetlejuice#Lydia#Beetlebabes#Beetlelyds#Musicalbabes#Musicaljuice#Beetlejuice the Musical#Beetlejuice Musical#What lurks below? Pink Beej! Kisses! Yay!!#Kay but really guys I am ashamed it's taken me this long to get them smooching#Even just a smidgen#That's like my favorite part of shipping right after the unrequited love/slow burn pining#My Artwork#Also sorry this wasn't ready on time#Life happens
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Back in 1999-2002 I was in the Canadian Armed Forces. Shortly after 9/11 I was doing security at the airport for all the equipment we were sending over to Afghanistan with our troops (ammunition, weapons, tanks, etc). I was the only woman on the security roster at the time.
Now, I was friendly with the military police running the job because when you're friends with the military police they do nice things for you like not believing the bitch of a Padre (yes women Padres exist) when she tried to throw you under the metaphorical bus after you accidentally drive her into a literal HLVW (think military version of a semi truck)
So anyway, I was friendly with these dudes and one day they decided to play a prank on their sergeant back at base (who I was also friendly with). When he called for the daily update he was told that one of the troops had lost it and started shooting at everything. Just complete chaos and they still hadn't tracked down all the expended rounds (aka bullets).
Apparently, so I learned afterward when I was told the story by the guy who'd called it in, the sergeants very first reaction was to say "Oh my god is she okay?"
...
I'd like to reiterate I was the only woman on the roster at the time.
The sergeant wasn't a misogynist. His response had nothing to do with me being a woman. He was just convinced that out of all of the soldiers on the roster I was the most likely to go off the deep end.
And the real kick in the teeth is I couldn't even argue that assumption.
Anyway that was more than 20 years ago and now people keep saying that I'm a zen master and it's absolutely possible to become a new person
#life stories#no idea what made me remember that one tonight#the funniest part was that I never acted like a loose canon at all#they apparently just saw everything simmering under the surface and went#“yep if anyone is gonna fucking lose it it's gonna be her”#ten years later I had friends saying that I was the last person who should ever have their brain put into a robot body#and that it would be a disaster for the rest of the world#so I guess everyone looked at me and just saw me as#this little ball of barely contained rage#i once scared a subway employee so badly just by looking at him#that even with the counter between us#he backed up so quickly he ran into the back wall#i can only blame the viking ancestry#they must all have been seeing the berserker lurking below the surface or something
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As Foretold, So Below, chapter 1, Suenfield's Son, page 11.
[FIRST]•[PREVIOUS]•[NEXT]
[START FROM THE BEGINNING!]
#as foretold so below#afsb update#afsb#dnd 5e#comic#he sure does know the type#what does that mean? find out in like. three to four business years#teuh's worth the wait tho prommy#also god. i love love love the big pic of kalem here#he's so exhausted but there's something lurking that just! cannot be reconciled.
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I am, once again, thinking about M.onster and N.o Longer You. Blame Kirei for posting the song again earlier.
#:outofcash#ok let's be real they've been on repeat anyways#'I see a man who gets to make it home alive but it's no longer you'#'so what if I'm the monster lurking deep below' oh Aur the things I have planned for your future#nothing good
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The data does not support the assumption that all burned out people can “recover.” And when we fully appreciate what burnout signals in the body, and where it comes from on a social, economic, and psychological level, it should become clear to us that there’s nothing beneficial in returning to an unsustainable status quo.
The term “burned out” is sometimes used to simply mean “stressed” or “tired,” and many organizations benefit from framing the condition in such light terms. Short-term, casual burnout (like you might get after one particularly stressful work deadline, or following final exams) has a positive prognosis: within three months of enjoying a reduced workload and increased time for rest and leisure, 80% of mildly burned-out workers are able to make a full return to their jobs.
But there’s a lot of unanswered questions lurking behind this happy statistic. For instance, how many workers in this economy actually have the ability to take three months off work to focus on burnout recovery? What happens if a mildly burnt-out person does not get that rest, and has to keep toiling away as more deadlines pile up? And what is the point of returning to work if the job is going to remain as grueling and uncontrollable as it was when it first burned the worker out?
Burnout that is not treated swiftly can become far more severe. Clinical psychologist and burnout expert Arno van Dam writes that when left unattended (or forcibly pushed through), mild burnout can metastasize into clinical burnout, which the International Classification of Diseases defines as feelings of energy depletion, increased mental distance, and a reduced sense of personal agency. Clinically burned-out people are not only tired, they also feel detached from other people and no longer in control of their lives, in other words.
Unfortunately, clinical burnout has quite a dismal trajectory. Multiple studies by van Dam and others have found that clinical burnout sufferers may require a year or more of rest following treatment before they can feel better, and that some of burnout’s lingering effects don’t go away easily, if at all.
In one study conducted by Anita Eskildsen, for example, burnout sufferers continued to show memory and processing speed declines one year after burnout. Their cognitive processing skills improved slightly since seeking treatment, but the experience of having been burnt out had still left them operating significantly below their non-burned-out peers or their prior self, with no signs of bouncing back.
It took two years for subjects in one of van Dam’s studies to return to “normal” levels of involvement and competence at work. following an incident of clinical burnout. However, even after a multi-year recovery period they still performed worse than the non-burned-out control group on a cognitive task designed to test their planning and preparation abilities. Though they no longer qualified as clinically burned out, former burnout sufferers still reported greater exhaustion, fatigue, depression, and distress than controls.
In his review of the scientific literature, van Dam reports that anywhere from 25% to 50% of clinical burnout sufferers do not make a full recovery even four years after their illness. Studies generally find that burnout sufferers make most of their mental and physical health gains in the first year after treatment, but continue to underperform on neuropsychological tests for many years afterward, compared to control subjects who were never burned out.
People who have experienced burnout report worse memories, slower reaction times, less attentiveness, lower motivation, greater exhaustion, reduced work capability, and more negative health symptoms, long after their period of overwork has stopped. It’s as if burnout sufferers have fallen off their previous life trajectory, and cannot ever climb fully back up.
And that’s just among the people who receive some kind of treatment for their burnout and have the opportunity to rest. I found one study that followed burned-out teachers for seven years and reported over 14% of them remained highly burnt-out the entire time. These teachers continued feeling depersonalized, emotionally drained, ineffective, dizzy, sick to their stomachs, and desperate to leave their jobs for the better part of a decade. But they kept working in spite of it (or more likely, from a lack of other options), lowering their odds of ever healing all the while.
Van Dam observes that clinical burnout patients tend to suffer from an excess of perseverance, rather than the opposite: “Patients with clinical burnout…report that they ignored stress symptoms for several years,” he writes. “Living a stressful life was a normal condition for them. Some were not even aware of the stressfulness of their lives, until they collapsed.”
Instead of seeking help for workplace problems or reducing their workload, as most people do, clinical burnout sufferers typically push themselves through unpleasant circumstances and avoid asking for help. They’re also less likely to give up when placed under frustrating circumstances, instead throttling the gas in hopes that their problems can be fixed with extra effort. They become hyperactive, unable to rest or enjoy holidays, their bodies wired to treat work as the solution to every problem. It is only after living at this unrelenting pace for years that they tumble into severe burnout.
Among both masked Autistics and overworked employees, the people most likely to reach catastrophic, body-breaking levels of burnout are the people most primed to ignore their own physical boundaries for as long as possible. Clinical burnout sufferers work far past the point that virtually anyone else would ask for help, take a break, or stop caring about their work.
And when viewed from this perspective, we can see burnout as the saving grace of the compulsive workaholic — and the path to liberation for the masked disabled person who has nearly killed themselves trying to pass as a diligent worker bee.
I wrote about the latest data on burnout "recovery," and the similarities and differences between Autistic burnout and conventional clinical burnout. The full piece is free to read or have narrated to you in the Substack app at drdevonprice.substack.com
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Heylo my maggotsies... I'm sorry to do this but I have a thing that I really, really need to do (thank you Ash for helping me realise that) but I'm terrified to. so well. I'm going to make one of the posts (Neil reblogged me a couple of days ago so I feel pretty safe making one now since he only lurks by once in two weeks so this is as good a time as it gets to make a post and not expect many notes, yes I'm an overthinker and I'm actually scared of this getting notes).
Sigh. Here goes.
...I'm scared of even typing it.
Nope okay I can do this let's go.
If this post gets 1k notes, I'll look up jobs in design and film making that don't need a college degree.
2k notes, I'll sign up for an Alliance Francaise course so I can have another language on my CV, and I'll find a course that teaches me how to use design software.
5k, I'll look up distance learning alternatives, because just talking about physical college yesterday made me spend the whole morning and afternoon today in and out of nightmares screaming. Fuck.
10k, I'll tell my mum that I can't do the offline college. She's been talking to me about it, but I've been dodging because I'm not well-off and I really need to be earning and idk how to do that without college and I feel so guilty.
15k, I'll officially back out from the college (does that count as dropping out, if it hasn't begun? maybe half. i am a college and a half dropout, my 11th grade self would hate me and my 10th grade self would refuse to believe it).
I don't know what I'll do then. I don't know how to live as trans here in India, I don't know how to earn enough to be able to help my family, I don't know what I'm good at and I'm so fucking terrified. But. I spoke to @random-doctor-on-the-internet last night (I love you Ash you're such a fucking amazing human) and they made me realise that well maybe landing in a hospital with steroids to relieve an allergy attack because of exam stress isn't normal and so.
Well. Here I am. I know I can't do it, but I'm scared to risk everything, it's just not something people do here, dropping out. But also (TW s**cide statistics mentioned below the cut)... And so I've just. Got to do it, got to save myself and say no to college (cue say no to school, kids joke). Somehow be brave enough. And yeah.
To quote a financial express article: "In an alarming situation, a total of 7,62,648 suicides were reported in India between 2018 to 2022, Of this student suicides account for 7.6% at 59,239". Maybe if more people did say fuck you to the system here, that wouldn't be the case. That number could have been 59,240 (aside from everyone who wasn't counted and hushed up), that could have been me, and I don't want to put myself in that situation again. You know? Yeah.
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Icarus, and the Sunflower
A Desert Duo/Scarian AU about an avid player meeting his favorite, comfort character in a death loop video game.
I can’t write a fic, nor have time to draw comics like i used to, so we are doing bullet points on a tumblr post
PART ONE: BEFORE THE ALPHA TEST
2.1k words below the cut
SOME BEGINNING NOTES: - This AU is only character shipping, and references a lot outside the life series events (evo, hermitcraft, empires, etc). This is not meant to ship the CC’s themselves and if anything alludes to it, it is purely unintentional. - This is not canon-compliant ermmmm i do what i want and i will put every idea i have into this - Tags for this part? Game dev AU, Grian is whipped for Scar, some characters are real and some are fictional, this is only the prologue, absolutely not beta'd i only have one impulsive braincell
A. Gria
Gria is a single man in his late 20s; he works at a game company called E.V.O. Games (Entertainment Virtual for Everyone). He was an architecture graduate who dabbled in game dev in his spare time during his undergraduate studies. Although he didn’t pursue that path, he utilized his skills in level design. He used to work in several indie game companies, one of which was a company founded with friends, before he was hired by E.V.O. Games. He was excellent at his job, and his ideas and inputs always improved whatever project he worked on. Because of this, after a few years, he was promoted to creative director.
His latest project was “The Evolutionists’ Portal,” a 3D pixel-style puzzle game in which the player has to navigate the world to find portals hidden in each level, and these portals progress the game. With each portal traveled into, the world becomes bigger and more complicated, making each portal harder to find. However, with multiplayer, this task is easier through working together (and doing fun shenanigans together).
It had a buggy release, especially for multiplayer, but it built a decent player fanbase; the story itself was short and simple, but it was replayable thanks to its multiplayer mode.
For visualization, it’s 3D with a top-down perspective like “Pokemon Diamond/Pear/Platinum” but has gameplay similar to “Stardew Valley”
Gria and his team get along well, and he is quite close to some of them:
Martyn: an audio engineer. This is the first game he’s worked on since he was first hired in the company.
“Big B”: a VFX artist. He and Gria joined the company around the same time and bonded over stressful deadlines and annoying seniors when they started out.
Jimmy: the project manager. Although Gria takes a lot of joy in teasing him, he is hardworking and great at keeping everyone in check with the calendar. Out of everyone, he is the one Gria is closest with. He also works on another game by the company called “Empires.”
Pearl: an environment artist. She joined the company a bit later in the development. It is her first time dealing with pixel graphics but she did it incredibly well. She also works on “Empires” with Jimmy.
“Empires” is a free-to-play fantasy open-world action gacha RPG. It is the biggest game of the company and their title game.
For visualization, it’s just “Genshin Impact” and “Honkai: Star Rail”.
Recently, there was a buzz around that their game, “Empires”, will have a collaboration event with another big name. Gria was too busy and overworked to take notice of this, though.
The fruits of his labor later came as game nominations for “Best Multiplayer” and “Best Audio Design.” Gria was happy their work was acknowledged by players worldwide, even if they didn’t win.
B. Hermitopia
After so long, Gria finally took a week off. It was foreign to have no obligations for even a day. He doesn’t use this time to travel; instead, he sits at home and lurks on the internet to keep up with gaming news and updates. He uses the username “Xelqua” with a red macaw as his profile picture.
He stumbled upon a “Redstone tutorial” post by the user ”Potatonutshell”. Curious and intrigued by how such a complicated contraption is possible in a game (and bored out of his mind), he asked this user what game it was for. Potatonutshell briefly, and over-excitedly, DM’d Gria with a huge wall of text about this game called “Hermitopia 6.”
In the beginning days of his break, Gria spent time messaging this Potatonutshell fella, named “Mumbo.” Mumbo named himself after a character named “Mumbo Jumbo”, who is one of the most skilled “redstoners” in the game. He related heavily with the character and took a lot of interest in the redstone circuitry game feature as he is a programmer in real life. Gria thought the game was interesting, but not enough to install a 36 GB game for $39.99. He changed his mind when Mumbo told him more about the game, especially its base-building mechanic.
“Hermitopia 6: Hermit Civil War” is an open-world fantasy action RPG known for its base-building core mechanic. It is the sixth game in the franchise, and each game starts in a brand-new world. The player and the lovable NPCs are called hermits, a band of humans, fae, hybrids, and other species who live together on an island and work together to live a sustainable life amidst the hostile creatures that roam the world.
For visualization, it’s like “Skyrim” with “Baldur’s Gate 3” graphics and dialogue UI.
Gria planned to try it for a few hours, only humoring his new internet friend, until he met this beautiful NPC named “Scar Goodtimes” — a human-vex hybrid with scars all over his “handsome face and carved body”, as Gria would personally describe him. He was also a builder who lived near Gria’s very odd underwater base. Throughout the remaining days of his break, and his weekends after that, Gria played Hermitopia 6 religiously.
Scar calls him “GRIAN”, which was a typo error — Gria pressed enter early in the name selection screen and he didn’t realize it until Scar first mentioned his name 3 hours into the game. He can’t be bothered to fix it, though (and he's grown fond of it.)
Gria continued to play the game in his free time, slowly falling in love with the game as he kept on playing. He also kept talking to Mumbo, who he fanboyed about the game with. He found out that Mumbo lived close by too, so they hung out frequently and bonded over the game.
Gria: I genuinely thought you had a big mustache, y’know, like Mumbo Jumbo. Mumbo: I do too! It’s... it's there! [he shows his very faint mustache] It's there! Gria: sure.
Xelqua started off as a lurker, to an active Hermitopia fan account. He was interested in the base-building aspect of the game and shared his designs online.
Hermitopia is not a dating simulator. There is no romance mechanic in the game. Anyway, Gria installed (and tweaked) a romance mod because no one can stop him from flirting with his fictional vex boyfriend.
Mumbo: Grian, if I hadn't met you personally, I would've pictured you as a crazy Scar fanatic. Gria: Wha— How— I’m not crazy. Mumbo: You downloaded a romance mod just to flirt with Scar and commissioned an artist to draw a scene from it, and now you have it framed on your bedroom wall. So, Grian, I think that’s crazy behavior. Gria: … I do what I want, Mumbo!
Gria's love for the game and Scar grew more as another hermitopia game was released (Hermitopia 7). Then, he, as Xelqua, became a notorious name because of a supposedly harmless poll about the sexiest character in the game. He was known as the insane Scar fan.
He's got every Scar merch, though there isn't much Hermitopia merch released in general. However, if someone posts about a new Scar fan merch, a certain username might appear in their notifications, like a hound trailing a scent. Haters and trolls are also dragged to hell and back because, if they aren't regretful after being berated by this insane man, they will not be able to surf through the web in peace as long as Xelqua holds a grudge.
As insane as this Xelqua person is, Scar had become a popular character within the fandom, compared to his old status as an underrated sweetheart without much attention or fanfare thanks to Xelqua constantly (for years without missing a day) talking about him. Xelqua also organized or helped some Scar fan events and constantly supported merch creators with hermitopia merch (especially if it involved Scar.)
User Xelqua, about Scar: He is my little sunshine, my precious sunflower. He might’ve killed some men, but he was hot while doing it.
C. The Collaboration Event
Back to Game dev stuff, Gria isn’t open about his current obsession with his coworkers. When the collaboration event with the “Empires” games was finally announced, two representatives from the other company came to visit. “Skizzleman” has been a writer for Hermitopia since the 3rd game. A character from Empires, Gemini, will become a new character in the next Hermitopia game, and there will be a DLC that will add a new small map with many biomes and new materials. In Empires, Hermitopia characters will be featured in a limited-run gacha banner and a limited-time story event.
Now a Hermitopia fan, Gria tried to interview Skizzleman about the game (while making it not obvious how obsessed he is with it). Skizzleman was the one who wrote the lore for “Impulse” as well as most of his dialogue throughout the games.
Another representative for Hermitopia, the lead designer Joel, came to visit for the collab event. He is a fanatic of Empires and a diehard “Shadow Lady” fan, which is why he is so excited to work with E.V.O. Games for the collab.
Accompaniment art for this here: link
Gria was never into gacha games, but with a mix of Pearl and Jimmy convincing him to try the game they worked on (not to mention the fact that it is free-to-play), and showing him an initial sketch of what some hermitopia characters will look like in the game (this isn’t allowed, but Jimmy and Pearl found the thought of their serious coworker playing a gacha game amusing), he finally caved. Little did they know, showing a topless concept art of Scar is more than enough to reel him in.
When the collab update was finally released, Gria grinded Empires just to get Scar. He practically paid his own salary back to his company just to get Scar to max level and his additional skins. (He loved his new “HotGuy” skin the most)
With the release of “Hermitopia 8: Moon Collision” and the introduction of co-op multiplayer mode, Gria invited Pearl to play with him with the excuse that they're only going to see how Gemini looks in the game. Gria successfully got Pearl hooked on the game.
D. The Watchers Studio
Before Gria properly applied to a game company, he developed small-scale games with his high school friends. They called themselves “The Watchers.” He met them in a small art club and they bonded over their favorite games. Gria’s favorite game growing up was an old zombie game with a title he can no longer remember.
One of their unfinished games was “The Life Game.” It was a battle-royal death game where the players had to gather resources and have limited lives.
Two of their old friend group recently reached out to Gria to catch up. They said they wanted to work on “The Life Game” again and wanted to ask Gria if he wanted to join again. Of course, Gria already had a job himself, so he declined. However, he hung out with the two and checked in with their progress, nostalgia hitting him as they relived their old game ideas.
The two invited Gria to do an alpha test and asked him to invite any friends who might find it fun. Gria invited Jimmy, Pearl, Martyn, and Big B, as well as Skizzleman and Joel who he’s been acquainted with. He also sent an invite to Mumbo, who was unfortunately busy with his job at the moment.
To Gria’s surprise, the two had turned their game into a VR game. All seven of them played in a medium-sized studio, and although the game was fun, it was nausea-inducing, especially for Joel. They all lost to the Computer-AI characters, which concluded their Alpha Test.
After the meetup, the two lent them their CD copy of the game with the VR Headset they used (which was suspiciously generous of them).
Skizzleman liked the game a lot and asked if they could do it again sometime, which Gria relayed to his two old friends. Pearl shared the same sentiment but is too caught up with work which makes her unable to join their next session.
The gang kept discussing the game they played and its potential to become a hit with a little more polish. This made Gria feel proud of his old team and his past self, reminding him of the time he was passionate about making games despite his lack of experience.
With limited coding knowledge and a little help from Mumbo, he made a server to host “The Life Game” online instead of LAN. He sent copies to Mumbo and Pearl in case they’d join later. According to the two, the game had more improvements to it since the last time they played it, which was months ago.
Gria had a small voice in his head telling him this was a bad idea— well, he did get a bit sick in the last session, but everyone had fun. So, he ignored the warning bells and hit “Join World.”
This marks the End of PART ONE: BEFORE THE ALPHA TEST Next Chapter > PART TWO: UNFIXABLE ERROR
ENDING NOTES: I've been brainrotting and hyperfixating on the idea for a while now, and I don't know how to let it all out so I'm going to try out this format. Hopefully I could add more to this! Thank you if you've read this far into the post. :) Made a spotify playlist too in case anyone is interested (I'm still working on this though)
#desertduo#scarian#trafficshipping#hermitshipping#grian#goodtimeswithscar#life series#mcyt#AU - Scarian Death Game#<< i have yet to change this#my art#my writing#<< ?? if you could even call it that
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Canto V
Plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem! reader
Synopsis: Leon's back from Spain, but there's something off about him.
CW: nsfw 18+, p in v, dubcon, implied somnophilia, breeding kink, bruising, titplay, cunnilingus, creampie, unprotected sex, forced orgasms, overstimulation, lots of spit, choking, reader passes out during sex
WC: 2.4k
It may as well be a universally known concept that when you’re in a relationship with a government agent, you’d better get used to being strangers with the finer details. Who, what, when, where, and why made themselves at home in your vocabulary while you were dating Leon. It was all futile; he couldn't ever tell you where he was going for his next mission or when he was coming back to your grabby hands. Swearing confidentiality with your left hand on the Bible trumps a loving, concerned girlfriend apparently.
Leon had been gone for a few days this time around, and you weren’t sure when exactly he’d be back. You prayed to every divinity who cared to listen that he would come back home safe and sound to you. You did so every time he left. The government calls, he runs, you make your deals with Jesus.
The clock strikes midnight as you flit around your apartment, closing the kitchen and ensuring everything is locked up for the night. You got home from work rather late, and you’re looking forward to falling into a deep slumber, especially since you’ve taken your everything shower, completed your skincare routine, and changed into a cute teddy bear print cami with matching boy shorts. While your heart aches for your absent boyfriend, you throw your shoulders back and keep your chin high, braving another night of sleeping alone in your queen-sized bed. You slide under the covers and turn off your bedside lamp before closing your eyes and ultimately slipping into a welcomed state of unconsciousness.
Scratching, more scratching… Huh? You blearily open your eyes before squinting at the time displayed on your alarm clock - 1:48 am. Did something wake you? You don’t hear anything, yet you have the sinking feeling that something did lull you out of your sleep. You fumble to turn the lamp on - thankfully, there’s nothing standing in the corner of your room or anything else that would have you screaming bloody murder until your lungs collapsed. The covers are pulled aside as you sit up in bed, planting your feet on the hardwood floor.
Once your feet lightly hit the floor, a terrible shuffling resounds from the living room which makes your blood freeze over. Your limbs are immobilized, but your eyes move towards the door, like you’re in a state of sleep paralysis and your demon’s lurking around the corner. Heavy footsteps grow closer and closer to your door, and you watch the doorknob turn in slow motion.
The door swings open, and your body dissolves.
“Leon?” Your eyes blink at him, unsure for a second if he’s the product of a sleep paralysis induced hallucination.
Your lover stands before you with a somewhat dazed expression himself - dark circles engraved below his exhausted eyes, faded bruises on his face, dark veins trailing across his pale skin. He stands transfixed for what feels like forever before he blinks. “Baby.”
The sound of his voice breaks you out of your own stupor, and you launch off the bed and straight into his arms. You bury your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around him tightly. “You’re home.”
He shudders violently before his arms encircle you as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling the smell of your shampoo - ah, figs and camellia, a breath of fresh air from guts and mold. “I missed you… I almost didn't…” His voice is unsteady, wavering in a way that makes you want to never let go of him.
“It's okay, my love. You're home now, you’re safe.”
“I almost didn't make it… You don’t know what happened…” His hands shake slightly as he grips onto you a little harder.
A lump forms in your throat at the realization that he could have very well perished during this mission. It’s not often that he lets you see him in such a vulnerable state, so hearing the fear decorate his tone causes your heart to squeeze painfully.
“What happened?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Fine, at least tell me where you were. S’not like I can head there and foil the government’s plans after it’s already over. ”
“...Spain.”
You wonder what kind of horrors had transpired in Spain, but you know better than to inquire further. You hold him close and rub his back soothingly, trying to make him feel as loved as possible. “It's over now, right?”
“Right…” A hint of worry colors his tone as he presses a kiss to your head. “Can we just go to sleep?”
“Of course,” you reach up to gently rub the shadowy veins visible underneath his eyes and creeping up his neck. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Guess my body just went through a lot back there.”
You take his arms, turning them over and over and examining them closely for any serious wounds. Thankfully, you don’t see anything except for the occasional minuscule scrape, though the unnaturally dark veins worry you. You’re afraid they may be the result of some sort of vascular impairment, so you make a promise to yourself that you’ll drag him to the doctor’s office soon for a proper assessment. You help him wash up, letting him use your products so he’s soft and smelling like you. You hold each other close in bed, relishing the feeling of finally being able to sleep in each other’s arms after time apart.
Ouch. You wince slightly as you wake up to the sun streaming in through your lace curtains. You drowsily fumble for Leon’s hand to hold first thing in the morning like you usually do, but the space next to you is empty. You certainly hope you hadn’t just dreamed of his homecoming.
“Baby?” You croak as you wince again. Are you naked? And why are you so sore? Your eyes trail down to your arms which are littered with bruises. Eyes wide like cherry pies, you tug the comforter off to discover that the rest of your bare body is marked in a similar fashion - bruises bloomed across your neck, teeth marks engraved in your breasts, handprints stamped onto your hips like someone had been gripping onto them for dear life. Trembling, you slowly raise yourself up to a sitting position. You squirm as you feel slick in between your thighs, how fresh it is, you can't say for sure.
“Leon?” Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears as you call out for your lover.
You’re dazed as you take a step forward, feeling your body spinning like a ballerina, a delicate little thing that’s been used and abused and stuffed in a box marked FRAGILE. A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, anchoring you to his bare chest- they’re so much warmer than your Leon’s. Your eyes flutter as they gaze straight up into a pair that look like your Leon's except they’re murkier, hungrier.
Inky blood vessels coagulate underneath his skin, giving him a mottled appearance. They interweave throughout his body like morbid ribbons decorating his limbs for a funeral. He breathes heavily as he squeezes at your already tender body, causing you to whimper.
“Leon, ‘m sore… What did you do?” A low growl reverberates within him as he pulls you back onto the bed, shoving you onto your back. Before you can interrogate him further, his lips smash against yours. His kisses are all teeth and slobber, filled with nothing but the desire to ravage everything you hold near and dear.
“Mine, all mine,” he groans as he latches his lips onto your neck, decorating it with his very own artistic flair. “Mine to keep forever.” You whimper at the way his lips assault your most sensitive point like a wolf ready to tear out the wide eyed fawn’s throat.
“Fuck, feels so good,” you moan which further ignites that primal instinct in him that wants to give you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known, all for the sake of claiming you as his very own mate. He squeezes your tits together and spits on them before rubbing it into your nipples with the rough pads of his thumbs. You squeal at the stimulation as he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling at it as hard as he can before letting go with a pop.
“God, Leon,” you cry out as he continues to suck on your tits. He pushes them together as hard as he can and forces both nipples into his mouth so he can lap at them like a creature who stumbled across an eternal spring in the vast desert.
“Love these tits,” he groans. “Sweet fucking nipples, made to suck on all day and night. To think they’re gonna get even bigger when they're full of milk.” He pushes his face in between them before finally pulling away with a slap to each one, watching them jiggle with a carnal gaze.
“M-milk?” You whimper as he kisses across your abdomen and lowers down to your leaking pussy.
“Yeah,” he pants as he spreads your dripping folds open with his thumbs, inspecting the remnants of the now stale cum he had dumped inside while you slept like an unsuspecting angel. “Your body has accepted my gift.” A tinge of fear courses through your veins at this last line; you can’t put your finger on why it makes your skin crawl, but they don’t sound like your Leon’s words.
“Gift?” You involuntarily moan as he lets himself drool on your pussy before pressing sloppy kisses straight onto your clit.
“You’ll take my seed.” He starts lapping at your pussy ruthlessly, but not before grabbing your thighs and forcing them to clamp around his head, keeping him fused to your most intimate parts. Your sweet noises overflow the room as your back arches like he’s possessing you, dragging you down to flail around for eternity among the powerful black winds. Your voice turns shrill as you cum on his salacious tongue. Canto V.
When he finally emerges for air, his eyes are now murkier than before - the once serene blue that inspired such tranquility is now charred, tenebrous. “Leon,” your eyes tear up as you gaze down at him with your elbows propping you up.
“Shh,” he smirks as he raises himself up to pump his hard cock a few times before aligning himself with your pretty hole. “My baby, my lamb. Gonna get your beautiful belly all swollen for me. Gonna creampie you as many times as it takes.” He pushes himself inside your sopping cunt as you wail for the heavens. Your pussy allows him to enter with ease, clenching around him like it needed him to breathe - which it did. He begins to thrust into you with all the vigor of a madman.
“So good for me, my fucking girl,” he pants as he continues to pound into you. He leers at the way your tits bounce at each thrust before leaning over to spit on them. Your chest gleams with his saliva as you moan louder than you ever have before, like your throat really is being ripped out by the big bad wolf. His cock reaches deep, hitting all the spots you know nothing else can, and before you know it, you’re cumming all over him as he continues to pummel into you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to claw onto anything that can keep you physically grounded through your orgasm.
He laughs a little to himself as he continues to fuck you despite the fact you just came. “L-leon,” you cry out. “S’too much, too sensitive.”
“You can take it, been taking it all night.” His balls slap against your ass as he leans down to jam his lips against yours, licking into your mouth until your head’s all dizzy again. He rears back to push your legs up against your chest as his cock pounds into you; the new angle’s making your eyes roll all the way back into your head. “Oh, fuck,” he murmurs to himself as his breath hitches and he stares down at you losing yourself in the mating press. “That’s a good breeding bitch.” His words are hushed, but they bounce around in your head and yank another orgasm out of you, leaving you sobbing from the overstimulation.
“S’okay baby,” he coos as he kisses your salty tears away and wraps a hand around your smooth throat. “You’re doing so well, accepting my gift.” His eyes unsettle you, damn near pitch black as they peer right into yours. Your battered pussy tightens in tandem with the hand gripping your throat. Your tongue lolls out as you start seeing stars, and he sucks on it. “Give me another one, little lamb.”
“C-can’t,” you slur as your limbs dissolve. You want to give him another one. Want it, want to bear his child, want to exist for him. Want to breathe him, let him pump through your circulatory system. His breathing becomes erratic, damn near hysterical, as he nears his own high. He rubs your swollen clit to bring you closer to yet another orgasm, though you wonder if you’ll live to tell the tale once you reach it. He pounds into you as hard as he can, unrestrained growls falling from his lips as he dumps his load into you. You manage to cum yet again, release so intense on your already wasted form, that it shatters your senses. You’re vaguely aware of someone shrieking, and it takes a while to realize that it’s coming from your own mouth. You did it. Your vision goes black, and you slump into unconsciousness.
The first thing you perceive when you regain consciousness is the calloused hand gently caressing your face as if you’re a china doll. “Leon?” Your mumble brings him to slowly gaze at you with concern and shame.
“Baby.” He raises his other hand to hold yours with all the love and tenderness he could muster. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore… tired…” You frown slightly as you try to sit up, but he stops you from straining yourself. “What happened, Leon?”
“I’m so sorry.” His eyes are cast downwards as if the floor will be more forgiving than his own lover. “I’m not okay.”
“It’s okay,” you frown as you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“I could’ve. I thought this thing had resolved itself in Spain.”
“We’ll figure this out together.” You gently tug his arm, signaling to him that for now, you just want him laying with you. He slides into the bed and cautiously rolls you over on your side so that he’s spooning you from behind. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and gives your belly a pat.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy#leon kennedy drabble#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy oneshot#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil
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Tempest is a Certified Menace and Kassim is stressed out 25/7. Definitely doesn't lead to any shenanigans.
This is a future scene from What Lurks Below - in which Tempest finds a guy going THROUGH IT and decides to adopt him like a cat.
#sonic the hedgehog#my art#fanart#mephourge#mephourge fankid#fankid au#what lurks below#kassim the jackal#tempest the hedgehog#certified menace#fanfic
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[The Janitor has returned from their "meeting with a vendor".
They left the Center on a bus, but has just pulled up into the ESC loading bay in a SUV; the license plates have been ripped clean off, and the paint and passenger mirror has been scraped off.
The Janitor removes several bags out of the trunk and back seats. After putting a dart gun on their back, they carry and lock-up the bags in Sub-basement 5.5; they keep a few bags out. They take care of their humans before waking the cyberspiders; they send 10 cyberspiders to take the SUV apart.
The night shift in the construction zone begins.]
#the janitor (esc)#what lurks below#((who needs evil therapy when there's illegal retail therapy and joyriding after working at the GSC all day))
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˗ˏˋ I’MA CARE FOR YOU, YOU, YOU (T. FUSHIGURO)
꒰ synopsis. what starts as a quiet attempt to keep toji sober on new year’s eve turns into something far more intimate—because for the first time in years, he’s found something worth staying sober for.
warnings. mentions of child abuse (toji’s lip scar), mentions of alcohol abuse. fem!reader. established relationship. nsfw. unprotected sēx, orāl (f! receiving), size kink + more (can’t remember lol).
toji never celebrated his birthday.
december 31st passed like a ghost every year—empty bottles scattered across the floor by the time the sun set, and his phone powered down before midnight could roll around.
but it wasn’t new year’s eve he hated.
it was his birthday. and it was the day he got the scar.
toji was six when the zen’in clan dragged him to the edge of the disciplinary pit. he remembered the cold first—how it bit through the thin fabric of his yukata, numbing his fingers as he tried not to shiver. the reason didn’t matter. maybe he mouthed off. maybe he looked at an elder wrong. maybe they just felt like reminding him of his place.
“a lesson,” they had called it.
when they pushed him in, he landed hard, his lip splitting against the jagged rocks below. the curses that lurked in the pit slithered closer, circling him in the dark. none of them touched him. not even when he lay still, too scared to move, his blood pooling beneath him.
by the time they pulled him out the next morning, the scar had already begun to form.
every year after that, december 31st wasn’t about celebrating life.
it was about surviving it.
and so he drank. drank until the memory blurred at the edges, until the whiskey burned worse than the scar ever had.
but this year…
this year was different.
because of you.
december 30th
“you’re not drinking that whole bottle tonight.”
your voice was soft but firm, cutting through the low hum of the apartment.
toji didn’t look at you. his gaze stayed fixed on the skyline outside the window, the glass in his hand half-full and swirling with amber light.
“and why not?” he muttered.
“because if you do, you’ll sleep through tomorrow.”
“good.”
you stepped closer, bare feet padding quietly across the floor.
“toji.”
the faint flicker of annoyance in his eyes vanished when you sank onto the couch beside him, your thigh pressing lightly against his. without hesitation, you reached forward and pried the glass from his fingers, setting it on the table.
toji finally glanced at you—sharp, unreadable, but lingering longer than usual.
“you’re bossy,” he murmured, but there was no heat behind it.
“someone has to be.”
silence stretched between you, the distant hum of the city filling the gaps.
then, quietly, you asked, “what is it about tomorrow?”
his thumb traced absent patterns over the scar on his lip, a habit you’d seen before.
“the pit,” he said simply.
the words were rough, rasping against the air like they’d taken effort to drag from his chest.
your heart clenched.
“they threw you in?”
toji’s gaze flickered to the bottle, but he didn’t reach for it. instead, his hand drifted to your thigh, his palm warm even through the fabric of your leggings.
“on my birthday,” he murmured.
you swallowed the lump in your throat, lacing your fingers through his.
“they can’t touch you now,” you whispered.
he huffed, but it wasn’t quite a laugh.
“i don’t need comforting, sweetheart.”
“maybe not,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand, “but you deserve it anyway.”
toji didn’t answer, but the arm around your shoulders tightened slightly, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest.
the whiskey sat untouched on the table the rest of the night.
december 31st
toji didn’t expect to wake up to the smell of food.
most mornings, the first thing that greeted him was the stale reminder of unfinished whiskey and the sharp bite of morning light through half-drawn curtains. but today, something softer lingered in the air—cinnamon, maybe, and fresh coffee.
he cracked one eye open, arm thrown lazily over his face as the faint clatter of dishes drifted from the kitchen.
what the hell...
his gaze shifted to the clock beside the bed—9:00 am.
too early.
usually, he’d sleep through the morning. hell, he’d sleep through most of the day if left alone—anything to let december 31st pass by in a blur. but now, curiosity tugged at the edges of his mind.
dragging himself upright, he tugged on the nearest pair of sweats, padding barefoot toward the source of the noise.
there you were.
standing at the stove, swaying faintly to the low hum of music drifting from the speaker, one of his shirts hanging loose over your frame.
toji lingered by the doorway for a second, arms crossing over his bare chest, just watching.
you must’ve felt him staring because you glanced over your shoulder, offering that soft smile that always disarmed him.
“happy birthday.”
toji’s brows lifted, but the warmth pooling low in his stomach was unexpected.
“you’re up early,” he grunted, stepping forward to lean on the counter, arms brushing yours.
“had to make sure you didn’t drink the day away again.”
he huffed, shaking his head. “so you’re babysitting me now?”
“if that’s what it takes,” you teased, plating the pancakes with a little too much pride. “besides, if you hate your birthday so much, i figured we’d just make it a regular day. you know—coffee, pancakes, and some lazy movie marathon or something.”
toji didn’t answer right away. his gaze lingered on you, tracing the soft line of your features as the soft winter light kissed your skin.
normal.
the weight of that word sat heavy in his chest. when was the last time his birthday felt anything close to that?
you slid a plate in front of him, nudging his hand lightly. “eat. you can glare at me later.”
toji snorted but didn’t argue.
-
the sun had long since dipped below the skyline, and the apartment was wrapped in the kind of quiet that only came with late december nights. the tv flickered softly in the corner, casting faint shadows across the room, but the film had faded into background noise hours ago.
the glow from the tv barely lit the room, but it didn’t matter. your focus wasn’t on the screen.
toji’s arm lay heavy across your waist, his thumb brushing idle circles along the curve of your hip as the two of you stretched across the couch.
you nestled closer, your head resting against his chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.
outside, fireworks crackled faintly in the distance, but the soft weight of his palm sliding up beneath the hem of your shirt was far more distracting.
“countdown’s soon,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
toji’s response was a low hum, his lips pressing lazily against the top of your head.
“hm? you excited?” he teased, palm flattening against the small of your back, his fingers trailing higher.
you smiled, shifting slightly to straddle his lap. the flicker of surprise in his eyes was brief, replaced by that familiar heat as his hands found your waist.
“maybe,” you replied, your lips brushing faintly over his. “you better make a wish.”
toji’s grip tightened, his thumb tracing the soft line of your spine.
“already got what i want,” he said, voice low, thick with something dark and rough-edged.
your lips parted in soft surprise, but before you could speak, his mouth captured yours—slow, deliberate, and impossibly warm.
his kisses trailed lower, each one leaving a path of heat against your skin.
the tv droned quietly in the background, forgotten as toji pulled the oversized shirt—his shirt—over your head, leaving you bare beneath him.
he leaned back just enough to let his gaze rake over you, dark eyes glinting faintly beneath strands of disheveled hair.
“been thinking about this all day,” he admitted, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing lazily over the sensitive peaks.
you arched into his touch, your breath hitching as his mouth followed, closing over one nipple with slow, teasing intent.
his tongue flicked, warm and soft, and when his teeth grazed lightly over the sensitive skin, your fingers instinctively curled into his hair.
“toji—”
“hm?”
he didn’t stop, his palm sliding between your thighs, pressing against the damp heat gathered there.
“fuck,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles over your underwear, feeling how soaked you were.
“you’re already this wet?”
you swallowed hard, tugging at the hem of his sweats, urging him closer.
“just for you,” you whispered, your breath catching as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric, teasing along your folds.
his eyes darkened, and in one slow, fluid motion, he shifted, dragging your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.
“better fix that, huh?” he muttered, spreading your thighs wider.
his mouth was hot against you—too hot.
his tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, pressing flat against your clit before flicking up in a way that left you breathless.
toji held you down easily, his grip firm around your thighs as he worked you over like he had all the time in the world.
you gasped, back arching when his fingers pressed inside you, curling just right as his tongue flicked again.
“s’good,” you breathed, tugging at his hair.
he groaned low against you, the vibration sending a sharp jolt through your core.
“fuck, you taste sweet,” he muttered, his voice muffled but thick with need.
his tongue dipped deeper, teasing your entrance before sliding back up to your clit, lapping at you with slow, lazy strokes.
your thighs trembled around his head, but he didn’t stop—not until you were whimpering his name, hips grinding desperately against his mouth.
when you came, it was with a sharp cry, your body tensing beneath him as the pleasure washed over you in waves.
toji didn’t pull away, dragging his tongue through every aftershock, his grip tightening around your hips to hold you still as you squirmed.
“good girl,” he rasped, pressing one last kiss against the inside of your thigh.
by the time he crawled back up over you, his sweats were gone, leaving the full weight of him pressing hot against your slick heat.
his cock, heavy and flushed, dragged through your soaked folds, the tip nudging at your entrance with every teasing roll of his hips.
“toji,” you whispered, the sound barely more than a breath, but the need behind it was unmistakable.
he caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your face to his until your eyes met.
“gonna take my time with you,” he rasped, lips barely skimming over yours. “make sure you feel it all the way into the new year.”
you barely had time to respond before he pushed forward, sinking into you in one long, unrelenting thrust.
the stretch stole your breath, toes curling as he sank in, inch by inch, until there wasn’t a part of you he hadn’t claimed. your nails dug into the hard muscle of his back, legs wrapping tighter around his waist as the slow drag of him against your walls left your head spinning.
"you feel that?" he rasped, his mouth trailing along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing just below your ear. "so fuckin’ tight—like you were made for me."
your only answer was a choked gasp as his hips rocked again, each roll deeper than the last, his cock pressing into that spot inside you that made your vision blur at the edges.
he moved with purpose—deep, measured strokes that left you trembling, each thrust pushing you closer to unraveling.
but soon, it wasn’t enough.
toji growled softly, his grip tightening on your hips as he drove into you harder, the sound of skin meeting skin drowned out by the faint crackle of fireworks outside.
his mouth found your neck, tongue flicking over your pulse before his teeth dragged faintly along the sensitive skin, leaving marks that you knew would linger long after the night faded.
when the clock struck midnight, toji was still buried deep inside you, his body heavy and solid as he pressed you into the mattress.
fireworks exploded outside, muffled cracks echoing through the thin apartment walls, but you barely noticed. not with the way he was moving—deep, slow thrusts that had your legs trembling and your nails digging into the broad expanse of his back.
his cock stretched you perfectly, thick and hot as he filled you to the hilt, the curve of him pressing up against that sensitive spot deep inside with every roll of his hips.
"shit," toji rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "so fuckin’ tight, baby. you feel that?"
you nodded, breathless, but it wasn’t enough for him. one of his hands—rough and calloused—gripped your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes met his.
“tell me,” he growled, his voice low, dangerous. his green eyes were darker now, half-lidded with pleasure, but there was something else burning beneath—something that made your heart race even faster.
“i feel it,” you gasped, barely able to form words with how deep he was. “you’re so—so big, toji.”
his mouth curved into a smirk, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip.
“yeah? stretched you open real good, huh?”
your walls fluttered around him at the rasp in his voice, and his smirk only deepened.
“goddamn,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss you again, swallowing the soft whimper that slipped past your lips. his weight pressed you deeper into the mattress, the hard muscle of his chest flush against your tits, but there was a softness to him too—the faint give of his stomach against yours, the comforting warmth of his body that made you feel safe even as he fucked you senseless.
you wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into the plush curve of his ass, and toji groaned low in his throat, his pace quickening just enough to make you gasp.
the head of his cock dragged against that sweet spot over and over, pulling breathless little cries from you with each thrust.
“so fuckin’ needy for me,” he murmured, lips ghosting along your jaw. his breath hitched when you clenched around him, the muscles in his thick arms flexing as he held himself above you. “greedy little thing. takin’ all of me so well.”
your head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as he ground his hips deeper, filling you in a way that made your body arch into him. the stretch was intoxicating, just toeing the line between too much and not enough, but the way he touched you—like you were something precious—made it impossible to stop craving more.
toji pressed his forehead against yours, panting softly as the fireworks outside flared brighter, casting flashes of color across his sweat-damp skin.
“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped, one of his hands sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling it higher until it rested against his side. the shift let him sink even deeper, and you moaned, head spinning from the sensation.
“so deep,” you whimpered, nails dragging over the broad planes of his back.
“mhm. feel me right there?” his hand pressed flat against your lower stomach, the pressure making you keen beneath him.
“y-yeah,” you stammered, writhing at the added intensity.
the wet, sinful sound of him thrusting into you filled the room, louder than the fireworks now, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.
and then he shifted again—leaning back, pulling his cock out almost entirely before slamming back into you, the force knocking the air from your lungs.
his lips trailed down the line of your neck, warm and soft as he moved lower, his breath hot against your flushed skin.
“fuck, these tits,” he growled, eyes dark as his large hands cupped them, kneading roughly. your back arched into him, desperate for more, and toji chuckled lowly, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you gasped.
“so soft.”
he wrapped his lips around one nipple, sucking deep and slow, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud in steady strokes that had your head spinning.
“toji—”
he didn’t answer, just groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing faintly over your nipple before he sucked even harder, leaving it swollen and sensitive as his hand squeezed the other roughly.
“could spend hours just like this,” he muttered against you, the vibrations of his voice sending sparks of pleasure straight between your legs.
you squirmed beneath him, hips grinding up against his cock, and toji pulled back just enough to smirk down at you.
“patience, baby,” he teased, giving your tits one last hard squeeze before guiding himself back to your entrance.
the tip of his cock slid against your soaked folds, teasing, before he sank back in, slow and steady, until he bottomed out with a deep groan.
for a long moment, the only sounds were the ragged breaths you shared as you both let go and the distant crackle of fireworks still popping outside.
toji leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a stark contrast to the bruising way he’d just taken you.
“happy new year,” you whispered, brushing your lips over the scar near his lip.
he huffed softly, pulling you closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space between you.
“yeah,” he muttered, his voice softer now, almost fond. “it is.”
an. happy birthday toji 😓, you are so loved. HAPPY NEW YEAR’S EVE 🥳! new fic (unrelated to this) will be uploaded tomorrow! so turn on post notifications :)
#✎ luna.writes#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk toji#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#jjk x you#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x reader#toji#jjk x reader smut#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#divider by cafekitsune
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Cuddling with Jayce and Viktor • Headcanon
(Gif not mine)
Request: could you please write some jayvik x reader cuddling headcanons? I looooved your dating headcanons🥰🤭 -- anon
Warnings: heart melting fluff, that's literally all it is
A.N: Anon, I was delighted to get this request because I want to cuddle with jayvik at all times. Also I'm glad you liked the headcanons!! I hope you like these too!
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Cuddling with your partners will forever be one of your favorite things. While Viktor may not be at ease with a lot of touch, that aspect seems to be pushed aside whenever the three of you are in bed
Viktor easily melts into Jayce's side, his face is usually flush with the crook of Jayce's neck, which makes it easy access for a peppering of kisses when he wakes up in the morning (he always wakes up the earliest, kisses Jayce, then you, before making his morning tea which he brings back to bed to slowly sip as he waits for his loves to rise)
Additionally, Viktor lays his hand in the middle of Jayce's chest, to feel his heartbeat or to feel up his muscles, no one knows and he’ll never tell. However, your own hand meets his at Jayce's core. The night usually starts with your hand on top of his, but some time during your slumber your hands swap, and Viktor's warm palm is placed atop the back of your hand, slender fingers grasping onto you
No matter how many times you wake up to this, the tenderness of the moment will forever make your face heat up and your heart beat rapidly
Viktor runs cold and Jayce is as warm as a furnace, so that really explains why Vik is always huddled up close to him
On the other side of Jayce lies you, also huddled up to his side. Jayce's arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing random shapes or equations on the small of your back. It’s oddly comforting—his fingers dancing across your skin. It sometimes feels like he may be writing paragraphs of something familiar, something you can almost make out, but you’re never able to
(Jayce will never admit this to anyone, but there are times he traces letter on your skin as you fall asleep. Letters that make up admissions of love, insecurities, hopes, and dreams. His fingertips will tell how much he cherishes your love and adores Viktor’s trust in him. Sometimes they spell out what he hopes is your future together—the three of you, bound by love and loyalty for eternity. It helps him fall asleep)
Jayce honestly doesn't mind at all that he is squished in between his partners because he gets to touch the both of you. He gets to know that the people he loves are alive--are with him. Jayce enjoys knowing that Viktor has returned from the lab unscathed and that whatever the poison is that lurks below them and loomed over Viktor's childhood hasn't killed him. Jayce feels as if when the two of you are tucked securely at his side, the three of you are untouchable. He loves feeling your soft skin underneath his calloused fingertips, the warmth of your breath tickling the delicate skin under his ear
His heart beats below the tangled hands of his partners and that's all he wants
While that is how the three of you are usually organized in bed, with Jayce in the middle, that doesn't mean you never directly cuddle with Viktor. There are times where Jayce is out, with the council or another sort of meeting, and you and Viktor have the apartment to yourselves. Usually the two of you will be reading (sometimes Viktor will read to you, sometimes you will read to him if he's too exhausted). Who's cuddling into who will depend on who's reading aloud to the other. But more often than not, the two of you will cuddle in a way where both sets of eyes can see the text
Viktor smells of the air after a heavy rain on days he doesn’t come home smelling of grease and metal. But even then, his scent is his own and addictive nonetheless
Your voices will be soft in the other's ear, which usually causes you to drift off to sleep. Jayce will come back to find the two of you heaped together, heads close together
You and Jayce are the ones that crave cuddles every hour of the day. Viktor pretends he doesn't, usually rolling his eyes when you ask for him to get his ass in bed. But then Jayce whips out those wide golden eyes and Viktor is easily pulled to bed
There is also some casual cuddling outside of the bedroom. Pulling the two of them from their work is difficult, but once you convince Jayce, it's all over
Jayce is also the type to sit on his desk in the lab with either you or Viktor between his legs, arms wrapped around your torso.
Viktor likes to complain, citing that it's a distraction, but once Jayce envelopes either of you in his arms, there's no escape
Knowing that every night ends with the three of you in bed holding onto each other is what fuels the three of you. In the end, everything is worth it; everything leads to the love the three of you have for one another. Nothing else matters except for the sweet and soft touch of your partners.
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