#you heard the man. start drawing images. now.

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

Well, what are you waiting for?

You have a duty- hehe, duty... YOU HAVE A DUTY to portray my magnificence.

To create images that adequately worship me and respect my visage.

Spread my gospel.

Or I'll... spread your... Or I'll kill you! You'll- you'll DIE. YOU'LL GO TO HELL.

Audio source

[pankomako]

sometimes i think about interactions boat and i have had and things he's said to/about me over the years and it makes me feel as though i must occupy some little space in his heart. like i live in his mind rent-free the way he does for me, although not nearly to the same extent lmao.

speak of the goddamn devil i just got a steam notification he's playing tf2

anyway i never thought i'd have that kind of effect on a person, much less my favorite content creator. but it sure appears to be that way, and idk. it makes me feel special. warms my heart n all that :)

[artificial-transmutations]

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

[pressureplus]

Ok ok hear me out.. what if, you did a part two of “Reflection” but the reader finally gets to read Sebastian’s document? And kinda sees how similar they look. It’s kinda dumb because it wouldn’t really much to write about but it’s just a thought 😭

No no, don't apologize. I can work with anything as long as its got 1 sentence or three descriptive words and a vibe! I can easily make you a part two!

Doppelganger

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟ ◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

At last you purchased that damn document of his. It had sat on his desk almost teasingly out of your hands. A previous attempt to grab it had ended with his hand pressed over the classified file and a smile. His words spoken slow, as though you were stupid, as he explained that you certainly didn’t have enough for that. Now you could finally touch it all you want. A part of you was feeling a bit sassy when you snatched it right off his desk proudly. The thousand data pieces you just sold to him being shuffled away. You ignored that, for the most part, more focused on finally getting your hands around the classified information you’d been curious about. Finally popping open the file to see what it is he’s been leaving on his desk, you’re met with tons of information. A few pictures falling out that you don’t quite manage to catch.

You ignore them, taking a seat in Sebastian’s shop as he moves around the room, shuffling different pieces of paperwork and chips into places. His hands reaching up for the vents above his head and tugging out a few spare pieces of equipment. You can hear him opening the packs her wanders around with, attaching things to the straps around his body. You choose to ignore that for now. Instead choosing to read the file in front of you. Your eyes scan over the first line, catching onto three things at once. His technical experiment name, his codename, and finally his legal name. Your eyes scanned each individual word quietly. The shuffling in the background not particularly drawing any of your attention. There’s that shoot to kill statement you’ve heard a thousand times before. You’re starting to understand why he’s so aggressive. You’d be pretty pissed too if you were an experiment gone wrong, especially if you hadn’t even done the crime you were accused of.

At last you shut the file, eyes being drawn back to the images now laying on the ground. You scoop them both up. In your hands is an image of current Sebastian, larger and aggressive. He looks damn near ready to shoot the camera. On the other image…you. No wait, not you? His jawline is a bit sharper and he’s got a scar on his face but he looks so much like you. Honestly, it’s a bit shaking. A mugshot that isn’t yours but looks so much like you. The more you stare at it the more begins to make sense to you. The dots connecting on why his reaction to your face was so aggressive. Why he tends to almost stare a little too long. You thought it was because he found you ugly, or because he was trying to grieve the death of a loved one. In some ways, you suppose, he is. He’ll never have this face again. He’ll never be able to see himself properly in the mirror and he certainly wasn’t the innocent man accused of a crime he didn’t commit anymore. How many people had he killed trying to get what was necessary to escape? How human was he anymore, without his face, without his body. Was it human desperation, or animal?

“You never told me you were so pretty.” You joke as Sebastian jolts. It seems he’d gotten so wrapped up in adjusting things that he hadn’t even realized you were still in here. His eyes flick from your face down to your hands. You turn the picture of him around, pointing at it. This only seems to make him mildly uncomfortable as he looks away with a huff.

“Could you not have opened that anywhere else?”

“Sorry…it’s just…you really are handsome.”

“I was, I guess. That was a long time ago now quite obviously.” He slithers closer, scooping up his file and taking the pictures back. He’s careful to push them back into the titled document before shutting it. Then and only then does he hand the folder back to you.

“You still are, maybe you look a little different now, but you’re still very pretty.”

“That’s not a funny thing to joke about.”

“I’m being serious, Sebastian. You’re pretty with or without a human face. Even if this one isn’t really ideal…I still think you look great.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve still got yours intact.”

“If it’s too painful to look at, I can fix that by wearing my helmet all the time? I just want you to be comfortable. I want you to know that even if you’re not human anymore that doesn’t make you…a monster.” He hesitates, the words sinking into his skin. He’s quiet for a good while before sighing. His hand coming up to his face to drag downward, a display of his exhaustion.

“Just…get out. Take your folder, your batteries, and go back to getting that crystal.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Bad Days

Summary: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Body Insecurities, Name Calling, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I don’t think I wanna do this.” You grumble as you walk into the living room. You lean down to hand your companion a glass of scotch, offering him a half smile when he gently takes it and places it on a nearby coffee table. “Seriously.”

Instead of responding, he simply pats his lap and waits. 

“Okay. How about we don’t need to do this?” You try again, hating how relaxed his big body seems while taking up way too much space on your couch. 

Ari shrugs then, catching his plump bottom lip between his perfect teeth and waits. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t boss. He just waits.

For you.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice comes out softer now, more delicate. “And it’s not like it's gonna change anything.” 

Your Bounty Hunter cocks his head to the side, one tawny brow raised as he patiently waits for you to continue cycling through your list of objections. 

“I just have bad days sometimes.” Hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. But even though you’re quick to blink them away, you’re not quite fast enough. 

Ari studies you for a moment, his piercing blue eyes making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your silk robe. It made it hard to remember that you were technically in trouble. Which meant that was was about to happen could technically be construed as a punishment. 

“Then why don’t you be my good little Bird and have a seat, hm?” Your man’s deep voice comes out thick and rough. And while you have a feeling that he wants to make you obey, you know he also wants you to come to him on your own.

“Can the robe stay on, maybe?” You ask, your freshly polished toes digging into the short, plush carpet. “What if I get cold? Or–”

“You won’t.” He softly interjects, widening his jean-covered thighs just a little. Because although you didn’t know this, he’d already made a couple quick adjustments to the thermostat just in case. The last thing your man wanted to do was make you uncomfortable – at least not like that.

And then he holds out his hand for your robe. You stand there glaring at him, the two of you engaged in a silent battle of wills. He wins, of course. But only because you have nothing to throw at him. 

Except for your goddamned robe, which the smug bastard manages to catch midair. 

Ari tosses it to the other side of the couch before returning his attention to you. He’s pleased when you take a tentative step toward him, followed by another. And then another. The next thing you know, you’re slowly easing your nude body onto his lap…

And into his waiting arms. 

Immediately he wraps them around you, drawing you closer to his hard, muscled body. It never fails to make you feel soft and feminine – even when your mind was busy screaming at you that you were anything but. 

Today you felt dumpy, fat, and unattractive. 

But then here was this handsome man, holding onto you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It was enough to make you start crying all over again. Just like you had this earlier morning.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat as you work to speak.

“I gotta be honest with you, baby.” Ari murmurs after a few minutes, his warm lips skimming over your brow. “I didn’t like what I heard come outta that pretty mouth this morning. Especially didn’t like it when you called yourself a pig.”

“Why?” You choke out a wet laugh. “Would you rather I have compared myself to some other barnyard animal?”

You’re rewarded for your snark with a sharp slap to your left flank, which suddenly has you burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

Oops. Guess that wasn’t the response he was looking for.

“No.” He grunts as you feel his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs. You had no doubt that you’d be sporting a delicious set of fresh bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Oh.” Whimpering softly, you wrap your arms around his neck as you try to ignore the way his possessive, proprietary touch makes your body flare to life.    

“I wanna know why you felt the need to make the comment at all. Regardless of whether you knew I was listening or not.”

And there was the rub. You hadn’t expected him to come during your meltdown, let alone actually hear you berating yourself to the degree that you had been. Had you known you’d had an audience you would’ve at least had the sense to lock yourself in the bathroom or something, but instead you’d just had to cry your heart out in the middle of your bedroom floor. 

You must’ve looked so pathetic to him in that moment.

“Stop.” Ari commands, the single word spoken like a heated caress against your ear. “Whatever mean thought you’re thinkin’, I’m tellin’ you to knock it off right now.”

“H–how?” Your question comes out muffled thanks to the fact that your face is still hidden in his neck. 

“You have a tendency to tense up whenever you’re being unkind to yourself, sweet girl.” He replies with a shrug before forcing you to pull away from him so that he can look into your eyes. 

“I–I do?” No one had ever thought to share that with you before.

“Yep. Sure do.” He pinches your nipple as his gaze briefly drops to your bare cunt. “As your man, it’s my job to notice these things. Even when all I wanna do is bury my fingers knuckle-deep inside that tight little pussy until you’re drippin' and speaking in tongues, this shit comes first.”

Your hips jerk of their own volition when Ari reaches down to tenderly cup your sensitive core, massaging your damp flesh. Instantly you feel your slick honey coating his palm, making your cheeks heat. 

It didn’t help that you always seemed to end up naked around this man while he stayed fully clothed. In the past you’d only read about that kind of power dynamic. But these days you were beginning to enjoy it. 

“So tell me what has my woman being so hard on herself today? Be honest, now.” He presses as his fingers go trail their way along your belly, an action that has you immediately sucking in your stomach.

“Can we please turn off the lights?” You ask, feeling somehow both shy and stubborn at the same time. “At least some of them?”

“No.” He hisses back, not to be outdone. “You’re too beautiful not to look at, Bird. I might as well be a moth drawn to your flame, that’s how much hope there is for me these days.” 

“But I hate my belly. It’s so…soft.” You tell him, finally willing to admit defeat. “And I pulled all these sweaters out of storage today – from my thinspiration pile – and they fit even worse than they did then when I first bought them.”   

Your Bounty Hunter stares down at you for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Thinspiration?” 

“Yeah.” You hiccup, appreciating when he offers you a sip of his scotch, even when it makes you cough. “It’s like when you buy a shirt or a dress – or in my case a bunch of sweaters – that are too small for you so you can use them as inspiration to…you know…finally drop the weight.”

“Oh, Jesus H. Fucking Christ.” He snarls under his breath before taking a deep pull of his drink. “That’s what all this was about?”

Sheepishly you nod, as if finally realizing just how ridiculous you sounded. But at the time all of it had made perfect sense. “I figured it might help keep me from eating…too much.”

“Sweetheart…” His deep voice rumbles low in his chest as he polishes off what’s left of his scotch. “Fuck those sweaters, fuck the jeans, and whatever the fuck else is in that stupid fucking thinspiration box, or bag, or whatever. I mean it.”

One of Ari’s big hands reaches out to take hold of your chin, making it damn near impossible to look away from him. 

“You and me are gonna get rid of that box.”

“But, Beast –” 

“No.” His grip tightens ever so slightly. “That’s not good for you, baby. It never was. And I don’t ever want to hear you disrespecting yourself like that again. I really don’t. Broke my fucking heart.” Ari leans in to brush his mouth over yours, his free hand taking every advantage to stroke and caress its way along your body. “And it really pissed me the fuck off.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as fresh tears spill over onto your cheeks. “I–I’ll try to work on it.”

“These curves of yours are a gift from God, you hear me?” He muses as kisses away a tear. “Or the Devil himself. Depends on who you’re asking I suppose. There’s nothing I love more than watching those hips sway in one of your pretty sundresses, or seeing that luscious ass bounce every time I spank it.”

“You do seem to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, Sir.” You respond playfully through a watery grin. 

“Mmhm. The only thing better is when you’re busy holdin’ me hostage.” Ari flips your positions so that he’s on top of you know, effectively pinning you against the couch so that he can grind his denim-covered erection against your damp folds. “Keepin’ me trapped as your love slave while I work my ass off to satisfy that greedy pussy long until we both pass out”

“Hey…” You pout, shivering when he nips at your bottom lip. He tugs it into his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. “I thought you liked the job.” You press your hands against either side of his bearded face, pulling him down for a proper kiss. 

“Oh, I love the job. Gorgeous girl. Great pay, benefits.” He nuzzles a path of hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat, loving how it makes you giggle. “All the pussy I can eat.”

“Wow.” You breathe, torn somewhere between lust and humor. 

“But in all seriousness, Bird, the only thing I ever want is to see you happy. Keeping that box, holding on to whatever the fuck that was supposed be…” You press a finger to his lips, pausing him mid-sentence.   

“I don’t want to just throw them away. I mean, they’ve still got the tags on them and everything. But there is a women’s shelter in the next county. Do you think maybe we could..?”

Ari nods once, giving you a warm smile as he does. Knowing that you’d managed to please him has a fresh wave of slickness coating your already slippery thighs.

“As long as you agree to let me keep you naked and stuffed full of my cock for the rest of the weekend, we can do whatever the fuck you want.” He hitches one of your legs over his shoulder, dragging his tongue along the soft skin of your calf. “And since you seemed to listen so well, I suggest you lay back and relax, because, baby…”

“We both just earned ourselves a treat.”

END

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[talaok]

Hello, I have an idea.

how about something cute, about pedro and the reader at the Beyoncé concert, and Pedro being a little jealous and possessive, because of all the attention the reader is drawing to herself.

aries men are extremely possessive and jealous. LOL

Thank you. ♥️

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

The amount of attention the people around you were paying to Beyonce, the woman they had paid good money to see perform, had decreased exponentially since they'd realized " the Y/n fucking Y/l/n" (as Pedro had overheard one of them saying) was standing between them.

And when you had started dancing... well let's say the situation had only worsened.

Sarah, yes as in Sarah Paulson, Pedro's good friend, had hooked you up with tickets, and when you'd heard about it, you almost fainted by how happy you were.

I mean who wouldn't be, it's fucking Beyonce we're talking about.

You had dressed up, of course, a tight, silver, sparkly dress hugged every curve of your body, and as much as you had tried to persuade Pedro to do the same, all you managed to achieve was to paint one of his fingernails silver to match your outfit.

You both spent the first twenty minutes of the concert looking up at the stage in awe, and wondering how the fuck you got so lucky.

But now as you were dancing and screaming the words to every song at the top of your lungs, he was starting to come to the realization that a lot of people in the crowd were enjoying that same pretty outfit you'd put on, and not just him.

Like the two dudes in the row behind you, whose eyes were wandering a little too much for his liking.

But he didn't want to disturb your experience, so at first, he just started standing closer, reminding everyone how he was your boyfriend, and only he could touch you.

And when that wasn't enough, one of his hands found the small of your back, and god but the moment you turned to him and flashed that stupidly happy smile at him he felt like the luckiest man in the world, and forgot all about his worries for a while, loosing himself in the music.

Until a chuckled "dude!" made its way to his ears, and he turned around to see one of the guys he'd already spotted pointing at you as he elbowed his friend.

Yeah that's definitely a fucking no

All it took was for him to shoot them both a look, and suddenly their eyes were only able to point to the ground.

But of course, he knew that wouldn't be enough, so for good measure, he stepped behind you and brought his arms around your torso, hugging you from behind.

"hey there" you talked over the music, slightly out of breath

"hey," he kissed your sweaty cheek.

You were really going all in tonight.

Even under that lighting, he could see tints of crimson painting your cheeks

"what are you doing?" 

"I'm just making sure people don't get to see more than they paid to"

"What?" you frowned

"don't worry about it baby" he shook his head 

"no, I wanna know"

God, but he could never say no to you, no matter how much fun you'd make of him after.

"It's just people are staring at you, that's all"

"so?" you asked "I'm sure they're staring at you too"

An amused smile pulled at his lips "No see, they're... well they're staring at you a little too much"

"ahh" You smirked at that, finally getting it "So you're jealous"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Is that so?" you tilted your head, a mischievous glint to your eyes

"Yup" he nodded, "And for no reason at all I'm just gonna stay here for the rest of the night if you don't mind"

"Oh I don't mind" You smiled "just as long as you can keep up"

Image: @thesweetestdecline

[slothkittfunsies]

Deep Dive into the issues on Alastor.

CONTENT WARNING: Racism, Aphobia.

Now that I created a blog specifically for stuff like this, It's time for the dive.

Alastor is a character that resonates with me, because this guy is supposed to represent me and my people (aspec/aroace community) and I liked his pilot personality. (That went to shit)

This man got so many issues, that i have to take the pen myself and scribble what Vivzie has wrote. So, Let's start, shall we?

THE DESIGN

The first time I saw the Hazbin pilot, I got confused about what Alastor was supposed to be. I thought he was just a grey human wearing some kind of animal ears until the fandom said he is a deer.

A deer. Let that sink in.

(Images for comparsion)

As someone passionate about the arts, this upset me. Sure, I haven't been to art school, but even I know you need to put the backstory and features in mind when designing a character.

Character design is NOT throwing things at the wall and seeing which sticks. It needs actual critical thinking. If your audience is confused about your character's species, it's time to go back to the drawing table (unless you have a reason for making it mysterious.)

Second, the overabundance of red is awful in terms of color theory. This guy is in Hell, which is also red, causing an eyesore. I got a headache when trying to focus on him on a red background. And also, colors have meaning. People associate red with danger, so the fact he even managed to get victims to kill makes me puzzled.

Also, the fact he's supposed to be mixed/black makes this design even worse. Why is he grey instead of brown, perhaps? Vivzie has a pattern of making POCs grey-skinned, which is, again, awful.

I think Vivzie only made him a POC due to the voodoo issue. I mean, just remove the symbols and you are done. But nah the symbols are too "aesthetic" to remove. So gotta change his race.

She could have used another symbols, like THIS for example:

Since, you know, he's the "Radio Demon"?

THE BACKSTORY

Ok, this where I'm very confused.

Alastor is a radio host, and also a serial killer. He was born in the USA, got killed by a deer hunter by mistake, and lived in the 1920's.

This is what I gathered from being a superfan back then, and it sounds unorganised/cluttered. And the years he lived in make his design even worse. (Again! His clothing doesn't speak the 1920s!)

The fact he's from an old era, and yet speaks in modern slang is weird. He's supposed to hate anything modern, and yet he does it anyway? His saying "fuck" multiple times is so out of character for him. I guess the "If made by Vivziepop" memes have some truth.

Putting the fact he's mixed, makes the backstory more confusing. How did he manage to be a popular radio host at the time before the civil rights movement became a thing? He will have been put down like the rest of the POCs in America. Either that he's white-passing, or it's VERY difficult. Adding the fact he's a serial killer makes me think how the cops didn't get to him (the mere fact he's black should have got him questioned in 1920s America)

Now, for his identity. I'm mad he's the only aroace character in the sea of gays and bisexuals. (I'm not saying gay men and bisexual people should not have representation. I have to say that due to tumblr's piss poor reading comprehersion)

which made me go through on why Vivzie made him aroace in the first place. I don't know if this is true, but I heard she made him aroace because "he only loves himself"

Um. Here we go again with allos assuming we are non-empathic psychopaths for our lack of sexual or/and romantic attraction. I hope that's not true at all, but knowing Vivzie's past, I wouldn't be surprised.

Alastor would have been a great character if another person took care of it instead of Vivziepop. What I'm gonna say is, wasted potential.

[judasgot-it]

Kaldo x Reader - Can I kiss you?

Side note - WHEN IS HE GETTING HIS ANIME EPISODES are not ENOUGH IMAGES OF HIM OMG

word count - 1.5 k

It first started when you were paired up for potions class, paired up with the mysterious boy from the powerful Ghenna family.

You heard a lot about him, how he was excellent with fire magic - how he was guranteed the position of the Fire Cane, just like his mother before him had. Everyone had known this about him though, he wasn't exactly hard to spot, with his rather noteable hairstyle and weird hobby of carrying a giant sword with him.

“So, is it true that you put honey on your sushi?”

His face stayed concentrated, trying to remain hard at the task at hand - his hand expertly waving his wand as if he had done this spell thousands of times before. He probably had, considering his lineage and all. You didn't even bother to participate, seeing as he had rather handled it all himself.

“Where did you hear that?” His voice was deep for you would have thought, rather smoothe and thick than what his stature gave the impression of. Kind of like honey. Ironic.

“I heard it from your roommate. But do you?“ You had taken your nails and started to draw simple patterns on the desk, making little animals made of light that danced along the wood. They entertained you in the lieu of the awkward silence.

”So what if I do? It's not weird.“

He had mumbled the last word, his closed eyelids twitching as he somehow watched your 'group project' bubble over into a perfect reaction. It was an easy A, wasn't it.

“No, it's not. I think it's kind of cute how sweet you like everything, actually.”

You had gone back to watching your little light animals dance around each other, too distracted too see how Kaldo's face flushed. That had been the first time he had heard himself be called 'cute' let alone his 'weird' eating habits.

It was something about being called that, in his mind, would never be replacable.

-

After that project, what you had once known as the rather intimidating 'kid from the Ghenna family' had become some weird shadow that wouldn't leave your side no matter what you did.

Even when he became the Fire Cane, or when you had both graduated - he hadn't ever left your side, running back to you every moment he could.

He was still cute, drenching his sushi in honey every chance he got. Although now he was half a foot taller and had a new outfit, it still made you giggle watching him eat with honey smeared all over his face.

“Kaldo, you kind of look like a cute bear.” Reaching over, you wiped the honey off of his face with your thumb, giving it a taste yourself. It was strangly salty as well, although that was probably blamed by the mixed-in soy sauce.

”Wh' d' m'een k'nd 'f?“ Whatever Kaldo had said, you didn't understand a word of it. Simply nodding, you went and took a sip of your water, watching as he had no trouble swallowing the swathes of honey and bits of fish in his mouth.

“You know, Y/n - you've always called me cute.“

He was serious, facing his entire body towards you. His posture was relaxed, although you've known him long enough to see how his eyebrows crinkled in a sort of nervous tension.

“Do you ever…mean, anything by that?“

The pearl haired man swallowed nervously after saying this, trying to stay calm as his eyes watched for your reaction. You simply blinked back, taking all of him in at the moment.

The Fire Cane, one of the most powerful magic users in the continent, was torn to shreds by flirting. His face said it all to you.

”Kaldo, what do you think I mean by it.“

He looked down to his plate as if it was the most interesting thing in the world - as if the well dead fish had miraculously could answer for him.

“Um. I don't know, it's why I asked. I've been wondering, it just seems, you know…“

”You know? What?“ A smirk pulled across your face as Kaldo struggled to say the word out loud. Romantic. Like a child who just learned a naughty word and was too scared to hear it out loud.

Maybe you should go easy on him, though. Afterall, you did like him. Even if he was taken down so easily by mere words, it seemed. And had more than strange tastes.

”I'm flirting with you. I've been doing it since highschool, actually. Did you just notice?”

The great Fire Cane himself had curled into himself, his tall figure trying to hide into bar seat as best as he could. It didn't work, but seeing a peak of his bright red face and mock of white hair was more than entertaining for you.

It took him a while to bring his composure back, his face still flushed and his posture still taught as he looked down at you. Hard to believe he could be embarrassed so easily.

”So does that mean you like me?“

”I thought it was obvious. Do let anyone else lick honey off of your face?“

”No, but you aren't just anyone.“

Kaldo tried to keep his face serious despite how his embarrassment was still very evident on his face.

”And what do you mean by that?“

You leaned over, your nose almost touching his as you enjoyed watching him fall apart at the realization. He only leaned away slightly, not enough to have your shoulders no longer touch his chest though.

His body was warm, even through his layers of clothes. It made you press up closer against him, continueing your teasing tirade. You had never gone this far before, and you could feel your own blush creep along your cheeks as you felt his hand brush along the back of your neck, pulling you closer-

”Are you going to pay for that, sir?“

The both of you jumped, staring at the disgruntled chef who was glaring at Kaldo's honey covered sushi. His eye's were dark and cold as he watched the two of you awkwardly unentangle from one-another - you even having to scoot back into your chair, after having almost sitting in Kaldo's lap for that near kiss.

You were now the one embarassed, trying to hide your face by staring at the table and hoping no one would notice as Kaldo smoothely paid for both of your orders, as if it made what happened between the two of you any better.

It did not, as the chef's eyes were still felt even as you walked far out of his line of sight.

-

”You know, we should do this again sometime.“

The two of you were walking the same as you always had, side by side - Kaldo slowing his steps to match yours, while you stayed just close to his shoulder, letting his mere status clear your path.

“That chef was so mad at us, though!” You were still freaked out about the look in his eyes - how you had almost kissed Kaldo, had it not been for that guy. You could still imagine the warmth of his gloved hand along your neck, and it made you feel even colder as the wind blew against your face.

Kaldo just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. His confidence had returned, the embarrassment from earlier only seen by the small blush still visible in his cheeks.

”No, I mean, this. I think we should go out again. Like this.“ He shook your shoulders for emphasis, groaning as if to shake sense in your head.

”We do go out like this.“ You were fighting a blush on your cheeks, as well as trying to keep your walking even with his as he pressed his weight on top of yours. He was heavier than it seemed.

”No, but not in this way. Telling each other things, and when before the chef came over. It's nice.“

”Do you just want to kiss me?“

Kaldo blinked his eyes open, staring right at you. His face had turned into the same color as the ribbons in his hair, although you were not one to talk - saying that sentence had made you so weak in the knees you had started to rest your weight against Kaldo's chest, greatful he worked out.

His arm pulled you in closer by the shoulders, forcing you to stop in your tracks. His eyes nearly glowed in the dim streetlights, scanning your every feature.

“I can't help it. You look kissable.”

“Well, I was going to kiss you before, wasn't I? So do it now.“

He didn't need to be told twice, his gloved hand taking your face and pressing it against his. It was messy, your noses mashed against one another and his teeth gnashing against your lips.

You took your hand to card through his ivory hair, thumbing over the red ribbon holding it all together. You gave yourselves room to breathe, and moved against his frozen face as you tried to salvage the awkward kiss.

Kaldo pulled away first, heaving a large breath and eyes wide and blown out. He looked as if he had ran a marathon in that moment.

You tried to catch your breath as well, gaining your footing again as you still felt his warm body pressing against yours. It was either that or the kiss, that had started to make you sweat.

”That was great.“ Kaldo looked insane, coming down from a high that had essentially left breathless. His hair was messy, and his face was broken into one of the widest smiles you had seen in a while.

Sorry y'all, not my best but I think there's some demon that's taken over me and it made me write for Kaldo. Also sorry to the Mashle community.

[ms--lobotomy]

No clue what I'll put in the author's note for this one. That's what this thing up here is called, right? AAAAAAAAH

Summary: Mortarion gives you aftercare. Problem is, he's fucken Mortarion. He's actually fucken you. At least, at one point

Word Count: 737

Content Warnings: Smut, Degradation, this shit's as saccharine as it gets with Morty after the beginning

Image Credit: @squishyowl

Special Thanks to @mothiir for writing the headcanon that inspired this fic!

"Ah, ah a-ah..."

Your face fell into the pillow as he fucked you mercilessly. One of his hands was at the headboard of the massive bed, the other at your waist pulling you on and off of him, on and off. You shivered, moaning into his pillow as your face scrunched up. His hand threatened to leave marks in your soft flesh. And he was talking to you, his deep voice rumbling through your body.

"You were," he grunted as he thrust into you. His mask muffled his voice, barely so. "You were made to take my cock, serf."

You nodded, tears beginning to sting your eyes. You hugged the pillow close. "I am," you mumbled, barely audibly.

Mortarion groaned again. "You lucky thing, you should be glad you're taking my cock so well," he said, leaning into your back. You felt his breath hot on the top of your head as he positioned himself closer to you. "You could be off doing something far worse, you know, and..."

As he kept talking and your tears stained the pillow, you weighed your options. He was getting into it, and you didn't want him to not have the release he wanted, but something about the way he was roughly handling you made you queasy to your stomach. He hadn't cum yet tonight, not once. But you couldn't handle it anymore, not today.

"P--!" you cried out, raising your head slightly from the pillow. You turned back to him as much as you could. "Pineapple!"

It was as if a switch had flipped in him. He immediately pulled himself out with a wet pop, turning you over and stroking your cheeks lightly. You could feel his hands trembling on you, the soft sound of him breathing through his respirator. He said your name carefully as more tears rolled down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly. "I wanted to make you cum, but..."

"Apologize for nothing," he said, cutting you off. His arms were slim-fit for a man of his size, but quite large as they slipped underneath you and pulled you onto his bare chest. Your fingers trailed along his smooth skin, just barely grazing it. He shuddered at your touch, closing his eyes and rocking you back and forth.

"Rest now," he continued. He ran his hand along the small of your back, feeling it quake under his hand. You felt a weight on your shoulders slowly let up as your breathing evened out to the same pace as his.

His eyes opened slightly. He pried you off his lap as if you were a piece of cloth before he set you on the bed. You whined, reaching out for him as he got up.

"Let me draw a bath for you," he said. As he disappeared behind the bathroom door, you grabbed for your pillow again. You heard the rush of water, the squeak of a bottle almost empty. You closed your eyes, holding the pillow close as the sound became muted. You heard a "fuck!" and then the drop of bottle on tile.

"All good?" you asked sleepily.

"Just rest," he barked as he turned the water off.

You heard heavy footsteps before the creak of the door hit your ears. You sat up, covering yourself with your pillow. When he was up next to you, he leaned you back on the bed. Two large hands slipped under you, and you were pressed up against him in no time.

"But-" you started before Mortarion cut you off.

"I told you to rest," he replied, gently taking the pillow out of your hands and setting it off to the side before he stepped into the bathtub. His mask was still on, but you hadn't the energy to tell him to take it off. You felt yourself relax in the warm water, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes.

"There we go," he said, running a hand ever so slightly up and down your back. He rubbed your lower stomach with the other, massaging the pain of just a few moments ago away. You rolled over, burying your head in him as you felt tears welling up again. He rested his chin gently on the top of your head, shifting you into a more comfortable position.

"Let it out," he mumbled. "Everything be damned, I'm not going to hurt you, my little butterfly."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[bluginkgo]

Ep 8 Thoughts and Details Part 1

Some thoughts and details I had while watching ep8, and some parallels I found. And yes, I had to split this into 2 parts because Tumblr said "fack you, you can only upload 30 images :P"

Spoilers, duh

Already starting strong, the song that plays through the radio is "Cyn's theme" if you will, that is heard all the way back in ep5 (time stamp about 2:34)

Ep8 showcasing the first teaser image that was released on Liam's channel. Quite bittersweet, in a good way.

Well, uh, Uzi is a true god now XD She's got the AS that was originally in Cyn as well, double powerful and double traumatized/damaged OC!

"A How-to guide of overcoming the existential dread evoked by murdering innocent sentient robots capable of emotion and independent thought. Real life JCJ engineer testimonies. Thought provoking analysis of life and the benefit of being the apex predator. Insanely philosophical advice such as, 'Get over it,' 'Shut up and keep working,' 'Do you want a job or not.'"

Bleh >:P The fact that the AS is still playful is something a bit silly to me, in a funny way. Despite it being the god of the universe- almost- it has a silly side to it.

The amount of times there were cuss words either almost said/implicated made me so happy and burst out laughing one too many times XD

I've seen some people mention how the reunion between Uzi and Nori was unsatisfactory. In my opinion? It was perfect. The awkward feeling of meeting someone you should have known your entire life, all the while trying to the world was perfectly translated here. The silliness that Uzi inherited from Nori shines here. But most of all, N's kindness shines through Uzi. I think if Uzi was still her angsty rebellious teen like she was back at the beginning of the series, she would have not had as nice of a reunion with Nori as she did now.

Omg, you have no idea how happy I was in this scene. The animation, VAs, the DETAIL- ALL OF IT was so amazing! N looks so silly and goober-y <:3 Another thing I took notice later on was the timing. It's not really stated how much time it took for Uzi to go from falling down the AS hole to being punted into space. But assuming about minutes, that implies N facking booked it. The moment he got tossed out of the cathedral with the keys, he absolutely booked it to the ship without evening thinking whether Uzi was alive or not. He needed to see the evidence for himself. He didn't give up on and assume that Uzi was gone.

Recently one of the animators posted the scenes they worked on, giving us a clearer view of expressions. The work done by Xoriak was amazing and really pushed the expressions on these characters to the limit. What used to be Uzi's anger, quickly melts into relief an sadness as she realizes that N didn't give up on her in this scene. While she sacrificed herself, N did not accept her possible death as the only answer. No, he chose to look for her, and he would have done the same with V had the elevator not been blocked off.

This made me happy too. N has grown so much from who he was in the pilot. He used to be the push over that made friends with rocks, that accepted any order from the higher ups and didn't dare question any rebuttals. Now? Now he's confident enough to even voice the fact that he was mad about what Uzi did.

Give me like- giv- give me a second- LKJD;OIADKNVKVNAKDJF;OIWAEJFANVKJASDJFAOIWEFNAKJSDBV For the longest time my hyperfixation has been BONKS. Evident enough with what I've drawn (looks back at the 4-5 bonk drawings I've made). The fact that I got to see them bonk in canon made my sad sorry soul ascend into the upper plane of existence XD Oh and "die man bit-"

I grew up watching Studio Ghibli, so to see this moment- of NUzi falling and holding hands, of course my brain said- YOYOYOYO LOOK LOOK THEY'RE SO CUTE-

The moment of respite, the hug, the tail wrap around and the quick release from Uzi's part after having a heart to heart- it was all so perfectly beautiful ;w; NOT TO MENTION THE MUSIC, as usual AJ DiSpirito absolutely delivered. I REQUIRE THAT MUSIC TO BE PLAYING LOUDLY IN MY EARS 24/7 PLEASE AND THANK YOU AJ.

"I owe you 1 spaceship" -N

Couple things:

It's funny how J just either gave the ship up without a fight, or N was so stupidly fast that J couldn't even do anything about him taking it XD

N is an absolute machine at speed drawing XD

"I'm FINE, and calm, and GO AWAY." J is the embodiment of the entire work force TwT Couldn't help but say "same, honey, same ;w;"

Excuse me while I just- ITS VVVVVVVVV SHE CAME BACK OH MY GOSH- passes out On a more serious note, I've seen plenty of people mention that if V came back, her sacrifice would be for nothing. I don't think so. V came such a long way and grew to be more kind and honest thanks to her interactions with N, Uzi, Lizzy, and even her "death." It shows, because she chose to side with Uzi and N, and they all fought together in an amazing dance.

There were many moments in the episode that were a bit "slower" pace as many have put. That these moments took away from the intensity that was supposed to be in the episode. I don't think so. These moments are needed not just for the comedy part of it, but to give our brains to rest. To take a second, process the fighting we just saw, and be ready for more action. This is often used in Studio Ghibli movies, where after heavy action, it is followed by moments of quiet serenity to give you time to let the events sink in.

This, this right here TwT CRIES. These three have been together, hanging out, figuring out the eldritch mysteries- of course they'd pick up habits from each other. From N becoming more confident with himself and allowing himself to be mad at someone. To Uzi picking up on V's crawling on the ceiling habit. To V picking up Uzi's "bite me."

The amount of hand holding that was in this episode gave me enough serotonin for a life time. And the way that N always ended up wrapping his tail around Uzi, be it a hug or a cool pose. All of my NUzi hyperfixations are becoming canon and making me go FERAL.

Something that is interesting and always comes back to us, is the AS's interest and fixation on N. The way I have always seen it was Cyn was the reason for it. The AS tends to take something from the host and amplify it ten fold. For Uzi's case the perfect example was when she felt anxious or upset. Ep4 and ep7 are great examples of that. For Cyn's case it would seem that she got attached to N after she entered the mansion as a Solver host. The AS probably took that thought and amplified it to unhealthy amounts.

Oh.MY.GOD. THESE GOOBERS SEND HELP THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME WITH HOW CUTE THEY ARE. N first attempts to protect Uzi, and she says "nuh uh" and covers his hand instead. This. This right here. It's far too beautiful TwT

Great frame, but uh, how the fack are we able to see the AS symbol? XD Cause uh like, her face has a split for the nose section still and all of a sudden it just... went away? XD Don't get me wrong, the animation is TOP NOTCH in these last episodes, but silly little moments like this- where it's super tense and scary, but after a rewatch it just seems silly.

When I first saw this I figured "oh shit, it's ep7 all over again, they're gonna be obliterated." The demonic screams I let out were a bit embarrassing to say the least XD

This little shit. She's just playing with them, and she knows it. This entire fight was nothing more than a little game for her. Like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it.

In this scene you can actually hear the first notes of Eternal Dream, but in a super distorted way, much like it sounded in ep6 (timestamp about 15:30)

Alright, Ginkgo what now, why include this blurry frame of nothing? I really admire Cyn's VA. Fitzy has always done an amazing job at making my favorite character- Cyn- the creepy silly goober that she is. So of course I would have watched and unwillingly memorized laugh takes that Fitzy also shared. One of which was here (time stamp of about 0:47. The laughs are similar, and most likely reused from ep7 takes that never made it into ep7 but carried over to ep8. Just a fun little detail I noticed.

OMFG LMAO AAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHA THE WAY I BAWLED THE FIRST TIME I HEARD IT XD

Split second frame but I see it. I SEE IT V. SHE COVERED UP N'S CORE TwT Despite all of the comments she made, despite all of the things she did, she still cared for him. And the entire show, her entire character growth shows that. She didn't run in that moment- she could have much like she did from Cynessa mere seconds ago, but she stayed, and tried to protect N too.

OMG BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA YESSS UZI XD

The entire fighting scene between Uzi, Cynessa and J was so amazing. As usual, AJ DiSpirito did an AMAZING job with the songs, but more so the fact that Uzi is able to hold her own against J and Cynessa, that just amazes me. She has always been strong, but seeing it in battle made me appreciate it all that much more. Another thing about this episode, it seemed like the animators didn't particularly try to hide anything sneaky. All of the glitched sections (ex: Uzi's visor after she at the AS) were code that general population is unable to read/decipher- unless someone with an actual expertise tells me otherwise, I can only assume its code of her CPU functions- once again, remember, I know next to nothing about computers and that language TwT But the moments that were evident were these- they were even changed to BLUE. From the pilot time, everything was sneaky. I mean from the way the Murder Drones logo switched briefly into the AS symbol, to N's waking up having administration "CYN" written on his visor upon reboot. All of that was sneaky details put in for us to hunt down. This time around, it didn't feel much of like a hunt and more like silly easter eggs.

Wanna see the rest of it? Yeah, here's part 2 because Tumblr doesn't like more than 30 images per post TwT

[interesting-interludes]

the comforts of creatures (5)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.

A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.

Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.

You can’t speak.

You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.

No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.

A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.

The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.

“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”

“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”

Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.

You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.

Now you know why.

Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.

You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.

“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.

From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.

“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.

Your face scrunches in confusion.

“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.

You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.

Simple as that.

But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.

Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.

“They said...” you begin hesitantly.

They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.

“They said that they were monsters.”

Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.

“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”

They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.

Your stomach churns.

“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”

They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.

Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.

Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.

Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.

You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.

One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.

The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.

The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.

The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.

You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.

“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”

Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.

But how could you know that now?

They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.

Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.

For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.

Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.

All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.

Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.

Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.

Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.

Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.

He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”

As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.

Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.

Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.

“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.

“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”

Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.

All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.

Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.

Jin notices the signs immediately.

“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.

Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.

Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.

“Go ahead, let it out,”

You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.

“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”

Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.

“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.

The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.

He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.

For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.

“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.

The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.

The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.

It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.

You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.

The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.

The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.

Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.

Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.

“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”

The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.

“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.

It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?

You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.

You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.

Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.

When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.

Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.

The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.

You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.

He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.

This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.

The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.

“Shower or bath?” he asks.

It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.

Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.

They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.

You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.

Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.

They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.

Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.

You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.

Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.

Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.

So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.

The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.

Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.

You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.

The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.

Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.

Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.

Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?” 

Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.

His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.

On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.

When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.

There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.

Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.

He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.

You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.

Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.

What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.

They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.

He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.

A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.

A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.

Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.

“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”

They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.

Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”

Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.

Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.

He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.

“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.

He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.

You nod slightly.

It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.

Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.

They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.

Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.

Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.

“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.

“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.

You nod.

Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.

“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”

You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.

It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.

Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.

You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.

Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.

“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”

You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.

Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.

He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.

Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.

When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.

Another breath releases from your lungs.

You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.

You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.

The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.

The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.

Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.

You know there are worse scars behind you.

Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.

It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.

You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.

You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.

A gentle knock on the door. 

You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.

Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.

“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”

You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.

You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.

Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.

“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.

You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.

It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.

“Much better, hmm?” he says.

You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room. 

It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.

Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.

They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.

Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”

Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.

The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.

“This should settle your stomach,” he says.

While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.

You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.

He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.

“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.

“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.

This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid. 

They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.

Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.

“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”

You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.

Jin enters your field of vision again.

“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.

But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.

“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.

One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.

You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.

The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely. 

Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.

You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down. 

You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖

[spacebaby1]

Okay hear me out. OK so yn and Ace been best friends in their childhood (sweethearts). But when yn set out to see she got into a fight and loses her memories. So later on yn joins whitebeard crew and she doesn't recognize Ace at all. Just imaging his sad face 😞. So he tries to get yn to remember him.

I could write a whole series of this! Enjoy!

The last thing you remembered was falling in the deep ocean as everything went black.

Blinking awake, you tried to figure out where were you, it was a ship indeed, but who's ship?

The door opened, letting the sunlight in, which made you groan in annoyance as you tried to shut your eyes. "Ah, you are awake. How are you feeling?" A man in glasses asked, placing down water glass. "Where i'm I?" He helped you sit. "On the whitebeard ship, do you remember what happened to you?"

With a groan, you held your head, trying to remember, "I-I don't remember anything, who I'm I?" You asked, looking at him. He was taken aback by your question, "You don't remember anything?"

You shook your head, not able to remember anything at all, not even your name. A meeting was held and you sat in front of "pops" as he spoke about how you were welcome to stay if you'd want to because he saw great potential in you and you're also welcome to leave if you feel uncomfortable being around pirates but not a minute you felt uncomfortable. "If it's not a trouble, then I'd wanna stay until I find out who I'm I?" You asked. And he smiled, "Absolutely."

Everyone treated you like you were their little sister since you were the only girl and the youngest of them all. You had figured out that you were great with drawing maps and sometimes would have vivid dreams about faceless boy saying something or calling you certain name but it always went unheard and you'd always wake up in the middle of the night. They all named you, "Aya!" Because everytime you'd get annoyed or messed something up, you'd say, "Ayy!" In an annoyed tone. It was fine since you didn't even remember your own name; there were nights you'd stay awake thinking about what your name was? Do you have a family? Is there somewhere someone out there looking for you?.

It was just another day for you on the ship when Marco had asked you if you'd like to join the others on the deck since they were playing ""fight"" with the new member. You groaned, then shook your head, "I'm reading this book." It wasn't strange for pops to suddenly find another crewmate out of nowhere. You could hear them cheering outside, but it wasn't anything new.

After a few hours, you decided to go back to completing the sketch of the ship, putting your goggles on, and you picked your parchment papers and pens. You saw them on lower deck playing fight with the rest of the crew gathered around in a circle. Not minding them, you started to work on your drawing. When you were halfway done, you saw the crew disturbed as they took a break, so you went on drawing the side of the ship. "Another sketch?" Marco ruffled your hair as he walked past you, making you nod, not taking your eyes off your drawing. You heard a new voice talking and turned to find a dark haird guy talking with one of your crewmates. All you saw was his back, so yoy shrugged and turned back to continue drawing.

The guys behind you didn't see you, so they accidentally bumped into you, causing your things to drop from your hand. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry I didn't see you there - " Ace immediately got down to gather your papers, and his head dropped when he looked up as you were still gathering the pen of the deck. You smiled, "it's okay. I shouldn't have just sta -" You didn't get to finish talking when he dropped the papers and wrapped his arms around you, taking you by surprise. Everyone on the deck was looking at Ace and you now. You blinked in surprise and immediately pushed him away with a yelp. "What are you doing?" You screamed at him, Ace reached for you, but you were quick to get up as Marco reached you two before grabbing Ace, stopping him from approaching you, "what are you doing, man?" Marco asked before turning to you, "Aya, are you okay?" Nodding, you gathered you things and turned to leave when Ace called out, "Aya? No! Y/n! Wait!" You stopped at the name. It sounded exactly like the name you heard in your dreams, but you just stood there clutching your things closer as you looked at Ace with a confused look.

"Stop it man, you are scaring the gi-"

"No! That's my girl, that's my Y/n! Y/n, it's me!" Everyone was looking at you now, Marco turned to look at you as you shrugged, not knowing what to say. "Y/n?" You asked, and Ace nodded. Marco turned to talk to Ace, "Don't approach the girl like that. Stay here." Ace didn't listen, but he only walked a few feet in front of you, his eyes begging you to recognise him as he reached his hands for you, but you only stepped back, and he immediately stopped. "Y/n, please, it's me. Don't you remember me?" You shook your head, making Ace's lips quivered. "I'm sorry." Was all you said before rushing away to your room and shutting the door.

You didn't leave the room and fell asleep before being awakened by the nightmares in the middle of the night. After calming down, you went outside for fresh air but stopped on top of the stairs when you saw Ace standing alone looking at the night waves. You were about to get back to your room, but something in you told you to talk to him. If he was lying about knowing you, then why would he be so desperate for you to recognise him. Slowly approaching him, you stood a few steps away, hugging yourself. You cleared your throat, and he turned immediately, gasping, holding his steps from reaching you, but the look in his eyes was yarning for you to approach him. "I uh, I don't really know what to say actually," you spoke honestly, "can we sit down? Want me to make you tea? Coffee? I drink tea when I can't sleep. I wanna talk." He just nodded, following you to the kitchen. He stood by the fridge watching you make the tea, "Don't stare like that." He chuckled, feeling embarrassed, "I missed you, I-I I'll sit down there." He took one of the seats on the table, and you placed the tea cup in front of him before grabbing one for yourself. You reached for the sugar, but he pulled the small jar away, and you looked at him, "suger makes you cough. You don't - "

"How did you know?" You blinked at him. You didn't tell anyone that, but it was true. However, you'd still sometimes eat it. Ace didn't know what to do because he was on the verge of tears, "I know, of course I know. I know a lot about you. We grew up together. I lo -" He stopped talking and looked at his feet, not trying to overwhelm you. But you needed to know, taking the seat beside him you pulled it closer till your knees were almost touching, "I don't remember what happened, I woke up on this ship one day with injuries and barley remember who I'm I. Marco said it's probably because I hit my head or something that caused my memory loss. Please don't lie to me, if you know me please tell me who I'm I?"

He smiled and nodded frantically, "I-I we lived in the same village, foosha village. It's a very small village and there wasn't much but me, you, Sabo and Luffy were always running around to find things to do."

"Sabo? Luffy?" You asked. "Yes! Luffy, uh, how do I describe him he was a handful and really loved being around you. He was a little mouse," he laughed, making you smile. "And Sabo?" You asked as you saw his smile drop slowly, "he was a good friend, my brother. Very smart, ambitious, and always taking your side. He's not with us anymore. You cried for days when he passed." You gasped, "I'm so sorry, I wish I could remember him. Tell me more, please." Ace smiled a little, "well, I can lie and say that you liked me the most as kids, but I was always head over heels for you." Your cheeks burned as you chuckled nervously so did he as he continued, "I well- what I mean is that we've liked each other a lot like we uh what I want to say is th-"

"That you're my boyfriend?" You asked even though you were dying of embarrassment, but he nodded, ear and cheeks bright pink. "Oh," was all you said before both of you just sat in awkward silence, not knowing what to say. Your heart was beating so fast and loud that you were sure Ace could hear it. "If you still think I'm lying about it all then I know something else, if I'm lying then I won't know that you have a birthmark in the shape of heart on your right side." You shook your head forwarding your right arm, "I don't have any birthmark, see?" He blinked before pointing at your stomach. You both blinked at each other, and once again, you could feel your face burning before you asked, "o-on my stoma-HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT? I DO -" You sat down, looking at your hands resting on your lap. "I know because I just know. I'm your boyfriend." He whispered the last part."It could be a lucky guess, " you whispered.

He shook his head, "You have two moles together on your inner t-"

"ACE!" You said and gasped, slapping your mouth with your hands and wide eyes as he looked at you concerned, "Ace?" He blinked, waiting for you to speak. Then it hit him. All this time, he didn't tell you his name, nor did anyone else.

"Ace?" Your lips quivered.

"Y-yes, beautiful."

"ACE! OH ACE" You jumped in his arms as he held you tight, "Ace, Ace. Mine, Ace." He chuckled with tears filled eyes holding you tight. "Ace, it's you. Ace, I remember, A-Ace."

"Don't stop saying my name, please." He held your head with one hand and squeezed you closer with the other as you kept mumbling his name, afraid that you might forget everything if you stopped. Suddenly everything came back like a wave, You remembered it all.

"Ace,"

"My heart"

"Ace"

"My beautiful beautiful girl"

"Ace, I love you."

"I love you more than anything in this world."

[lightwise]

WHY MAYDAY IS A MIRROR OF REX (AND ALL OF CROSSHAIR’S BROTHERS)

AKA How Crosshair predicted his own redemption arc.

There have been many comparisons made between Mayday and Rex/The Bad Batch, but I have kept myself from ranting about The Outpost for too long and I figured I should get this out there before this week’s new episode hits. 

Crosshair is cynical and snarky when we meet him in The Clone Wars (as is the norm for his personality, but there’s a special edge to it in S7 E1). The first words out of his mouth are “we don’t usually work with regs.”

(I am not sure who first posted this image set, so if you know who to credit please reach out).

Now in TBB E12, the episode opens with Crosshair watching regular clones being told about the retirement bill by an imperial officer. His helmet is off and they have no armor on. He’s face to face with them. He seems interested in their conversation but is still removed, separate. He still thinks this doesn't affect him.

Once he ships out to Barton 4, we meet Mayday by hearing his voice before he rounds the corner into our view. The immediate thought that flew into my mind was, “that’s Rex’s voice.” Other than Rex himself, we as the audience and especially Crosshair as a character have not heard that warm, snarky, calm tone that signifies that commanding officer’s “regular clone voice” much this season. Mayday’s voice is a little deeper than Rex’s, but he has the same commanding yet casual tone and demeanor. As weary and frustrated as he is at the lack of support from the Empire, Mayday chooses to express it with a level of snarkiness that would have made Tech, Echo, or Rex himself proud. 

Or as Rex once said, "It's Captain, sir."

"Experience outranks everything."

Mayday and his squad are wrapped in mummified cloth strips, and he states that his men are all “dead. We’re all that’s left.” Three of them, to mimic the three troopers being forced into retirement that Crosshair had seen before arriving. They are dead men walking. And so are the rest of the clones. 

Mayday brings the light to Crosshair. And starts talking to him, man to man, like a friend. Like a brother. He asks him his name. Crosshair’s first encounters with Rex were Rex going after Echo, pulling him free from mindless programming and reminding him what his name really was. 

“What brought you here.” “Just lucky, I guess.” Luck isn’t a word that Crosshair typically uses to describe his experiences. He usually relies on and points out his superiority, his skills, his uniqueness. He knows he hasn’t engineered this meeting, and yet Mayday’s mannerisms are already starting to find the chinks in his metaphorical armor. 

“I’ll give you the lay of the land.” Like Hunter would. “Conditions have degraded our equipment.” Like Tech could have helped with. “I’m not an explosives expert.” Wrecker is. 

Mayday lays out the helmets of his fallen squad in a memorial, the same way Rex and Ahsoka do after order 66. Reverence and respect for the dead, even when it seems meaningless. Crosshair has let himself be deadened by the Empire, yet Mayday treats him with interest and respect, drawing him back out of himself. Mayday even shows the same respect for the raider who had been attacking his base, saying that he was bothered that his men had left him there to die. 

Crosshair is still throwing up his shields, like he did at the end of season 1 when he tried to convince his brothers to join him. “We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior.” 

And all of a sudden, Crosshair will die if Mayday doesn’t save him. If he doesn’t fully trust him to disarm the pressure mine he has gotten himself into. He has continued to choose to step in places that are a pressure mine waiting to go off, waiting to swallow him whole. And until now he has made enemies of anyone who has tried to help him.

Mayday saves his life, and now they’re working as a team, silently and in unison. They realize that all this effort and loss of life has been for mere equipment (that’s for their replacements, no less). Their lives really are worth even less than the epithet "used equipment" that Nolan spits in Crosshair’s face when they first meet. 

Hunter had tried to tell him on Kamino: “Can’t you see they’re using you? We’re loyal to each other, not some empire.”

Crosshair: “YOU weren’t loyal to me. I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I’m going to give you what you never gave me–a chance.” Only now, after Mayday gave him that chance, is he willing to admit that Hunter was right.

How many times have those words haunted Crosshair’s thoughts?

Now this was interesting to me. Crosshair incidentally causes an avalanche by targeting a group of explosives in order to end their shootout, cracks fissuring up the mountainside. Once before he was maneuvered into a situation not of his own free will (when his chip is enhanced on Kamino), yet he stubbornly pursued that scenario when he chose to stay on the platform at the end of season 1. Once again, he is put into a situation against his will by being brought to Barton 4, but this time, he ends up creating a scenario where his choices from this moment will now have the opposite effect.

Mayday shoves Crosshair out of the way, saving his life once again. A pile of snow rips Crosshair’s helmet off of his face, and as Mayday is buried, Crosshair re-emerges his true self. 

“We have to move.” Rex’s words throughout almost all of their Clone Wars arc. Rex is selfless, telling Echo to go with the Batch if that was the best place for him. Letting Echo leave him behind, essentially. Mayday begs Crosshair to leave him behind and save himself. They both want what’s best for others. And their examples rub off on the men they save. Echo constantly does what he can to help his brothers escape the Empire. Crosshair’s sheer stubbornness that up until now has kept him tethered to the Empire, refuses to leave Mayday behind. He can’t watch another brother die in front of him. Not anymore. 

"You're still their brother, Crosshair. You're my brother too." Omega's plea to him.

So Crosshair risks his life to carry Mayday back. A REG. He refuses to let go of him the whole journey. He lets him use his sniper rifle as a crutch. All of his defenses are finally down, and he not only cares, but is willing to show he cares, BEGS ON HIS KNEES to his commanding officer for help, to show that he DOES CARE.

Finally, this struck me. We almost never see Crosshair using a hand blaster. He’s a sniper. Yet both in his encounter with his brothers on Kamino in season 1, and his confrontation with Nolan here, Crosshair picks up a regular blaster. He’s not being the sniper, distant and removed, making a kill from afar with his own rifle. This is up close, personal, a messy choice. With a hand blaster, a regular clone’s weapon. 

Crosshair’s conversation with Hunter on Kamino reads back as though he is pleading with himself to not make the same mistake twice, to stop running from his fears, to finally embrace who he is–a clone. To embrace his real purpose–protecting his brothers.  He’s made his choice. He doesn’t expect to survive. The vultures are circling both of them. In season 1 Hunter stuns him and he falls to his knees and then to the floor, passing out. Here, he snarls “Lieutenant,” in a sarcastic tribute to how Mayday had first addressed Nolan, and becomes an Angel of Death. He avenges Mayday and redeems himself, and once again falls forward and passes out with the last of his strength gone.

[aleebeesplats]

Soul bond[OUTDATED]

“An eternity alone is a cruel thing to be subjected to. To be surrounded but isolated, heard but forgotten, so powerful, yet so weak at the same time. The story is your life, but is that really all there is to it? Is that why you did it? Allowed them to exist despite the obvious growing issue? You wanted to feel understood despite not knowing who you were or where you began. You’ve crafted life at the expense of their freedom. You’ve replicated freedom through life.”

More info about this au under cut

This really started as a joke cuz I wanted to draw more Stan and Mari friendship art but as god has it it’s not so much a joke anymore(yay). This whole AU centers around Stanley and Mariella “becoming human”.

Character refs for Stan and Mari. I might change some stuff up with their colors and designs but this is the main idea for now.

In this AU Mariella now works in the same building as Stanley and her job is to attend meetings. Employee 317 did this everyday of every month of every year. She first meets Stanley while waiting for those who were supposed to attend, surprised and confused at the sudden disappearance of everyone.

Mariella and Stanley are creations of the Narrator, so they don’t look exactly human because of that.

(They have normal noses in side profiles)

I was inspired by Friday Night Funkin for their stylized faces. In terms of expression they are much more animated in comparison to the Curator or the Narrator.

Speaking of Nar-Nar, here’s the man himself. His first form is more like a “concept” than an actual “appearance” as he didn’t really care about what he looked liked and cared more about getting through with the story. His current form is much more human and he often spends time in it outside of the parable in his office. I wanted to keep his figure blocky and sharp cuz I went by squares as his main image.

Now the Parable wouldn’t be anything without the building, lo and behold “Coworker”.

I suck at drawing buildings, but for all you need to know for now is that it always expanding in the inside (where the story takes place), and also it is alive, capable of thought and emotion to some extent. Yayyy living infrastructure.

Some additional early sketches I made while trying to figure out stuff.

I thought it would be funny if Nar and Curie dated for a week before realizing they swung different ways. Things are good between them but it’s a little awkward at times. I was stuck between making Nar-Nar an eldritch creature or just an old man, but then again why can’t he do both.

Quick height chart doodle. The egotistical old man strikes once again, he really made himself so tall because he thinks it’s funny being able to see over people’s heads. In a way they look like Kirby to him.

That’s it for now. I’ll try to not burn myself out so that I can draw more for this au. It seems shallow right now but that’s on purpose‼️

Also, none of the things I draw in this AU are meant to be romantic. They are Queer-platonic at most. This is just me exploring bonds in hard times +what it means to be human (self-projecting like hell).

[yawnderu]

Bruises That Bloom Purple — TF141 x Reader

>This was originally going to be a part of my 141 x Reader fanfic Stray, though I decided to change the ending, so have this angst one-shot instead.

When Johnny left them, they mourned. But he also took a part of Stray; the part that made her human.

The journal in your hands was a reminder of everything you lost— everything that Johnny had in mind ever since he met the task force. Pages upon pages full of scribbles, drawings, plans. His mind poured into the paper as if he didn't want to forget, some pages stained with coffee and blood, some fully clean. Your hands shook as you held the small book close to your chest, sob after sob escaping your lips for so long that the migraine became a second part of you.

"Johnny..." You cried out, hoping he would walk through the door. Hoping he would appear out of nowhere, hoping he would take you with him, hoping for anything, anything at all that allowed you to see his pretty blue eyes again, to be held securely in his arms again, to be kissed by him again. Fuck, even the image of him hurt.

You didn't lose a teammate— you lost a soulmate. A piece of you, of your soul, a piece so crucial to you Makarov might as well have ripped your heart out and left you to bleed pathetically on the cold floor of the underground tunnel.

You're sobbing so loud you don't even hear the polite knock on the door, eyes screwed shut tightly, sealed by the tears that come flowing down like a broken dam. You don't register anything going on around you until you feel a bare hand on your cheek, vision blurry, yet you can recognize that burly figure anywhere— Simon. You don't do anything other than to keep sobbing, pressing the journal closer to your chest, maybe hoping it'll start sinking into your skin and will allow you to have a part of Johnny within you.

"I'm here, love." He whispers softly, his tone more gentle than anything you've ever heard. He slowly lays in bed with you and brings you closer to his chest, not minding the mess of saliva, tears, and snot now staining his shirt.

"Somethin' to keep your heart safe." He pressed something cold into your hand— Soap's dog tags. You instantly hold them tightly, using them as a lifeline to stay with it. Simon presses a soft kiss against your forehead before his hand presses on the back of your head, holding you even closer, allowing you to cry on him.

"Johnny had the braid you gave him with him all the time, did ya know? Kept it tucked away in his jacket. I r'member him talkin' about it all the time, braggin' about how you gave 'im that." A small chuckle escapes your lips for the first time ever since he died, the sound full of pain and bitterness, yet it was something. It gave Simon all the confirmation he needed to keep talking.

"He kept everythin' you gave 'im. If it wasn't the bloody braid, it was a picture. If it wasn't one of those... it was a letter." And you know it was true. You've read his journal for what feels like hundreds of times, some of the letters you gave him were tucked away in pages with drawings of you. If a letter wasn't there, it was one of the many polaroids he had of you. Some alone, some together, some with the entire task force, including a masked Ghost.

Your throat is too sore from sobbing, you couldn't even speak if you wanted to, so you simply nod while laying your head against his chest. There's something about Simon that has always glued you together— something about the man who, even when you didn't get along at first, gave you an odd sense of comfort. Perhaps it's his smell, perhaps his voice, and maybe even his soul, that always seems to be one with yours.

"For Johnny, 't was a reminder that he was never alone." He kisses your forehead again, one of his hands gently massaging your scalp while the other one rubs up and down your back, spreading the warmth of his hand all over your trembling body.

You remember the exact same moment you gave him that braid. A protection braid made with a small strand of the bottom of your hair, sealed with words of affirmation and wishes of the future, a few months after your relationship with the men started. Love. Survival. Companionship.

"When we..." You began, voice wavering and weak, yet it had Simon's full focus. "When we scatter his ashes, can you do me a favor?" He'd do anything for you.

At 15:30, the 141 arrived at the cliff. You're all stuck in silence for a few minutes, mourning in your own ways while looking at the sunset and the ocean below you. The view is nothing short of breathtaking, yet the heartbreak is too great to fully appreciate it. You can't help but think Johnny would have loved this view, but the thought is quickly interrupted.

"He was the best of us." Price says, gravely voice growing even deeper at the pain of losing such an important part of his soul.

"The toughest." Gaz continues, looking into the ocean.

"He'd've fought the world bare handed..." Simon replies and all you can do is look into the water, trying your best to hold it together. Simon leans down, grabbing the urn from his backpack. He holds it up and you all put your hands on it, holding a part of Johnny for the last time.

"Who dares wins..." And win he did. At the very least, Johnny found a family.

"Sleep easy, soldier." More than a soldier, Johnny was the son he never had.

"See you down range, brother... we'll take it from here."

"Rest easy, my friend. You’ll never be forgotten." You fought off the urge to call him your love, your soulmate, yet they all knew what was in your mind.

"Rest in peace, Johnny." The words barely came out of his lips. It was like losing Tommy all over again. Simon opens the urn and lets the wind take Johnny's ashes, flying away, freeing his soul. You all look at him go and you manage to let a small smile take over your lips, watching proudly as he flies away, despite knowing he took a part of your soul with him.

Simon and you stay behind, knowing Price and Gaz will be waiting in the car for you. You slowly sink down to your knees, hands resting on your lap. It doesn't take long before Simon kneels behind you, hands gathering your hair before he begins to braid.

Revenge. Death. Vengeance.

His free hand pulls out a combat knife that belonged to Soap, lining up the razor sharp blade to your hair. With one smooth motion, he slides through the hair easily, letting the now shoulder length strands fall free. He places the braid on your lap and you look down at it, eventually letting the hair go down the cliff the same way you let go of Johnny.

You never let go of grief— you grow around it. And despite the agony your soul is in, you know these three men will do anything for you, the same way you'll do anything for them.

[jasonthetoymakesmybbg]

Sweetness is a Tasteful thing. (1/??)

Yep, back immediately cause this man is legit invading my mindset and I can not-like he’s actually so fine 😍🙏

Anyways-

Patrick Hockstetter x Female/Male Reader

I am making this cause a scenario kinda went into my head like what if Patrick and his mom met your guys family and stuck around your house for a bit, but y’all are kinda like enemies and he’s forced to be in your room so y’all get along, and like he starts talking about horny shit. Then he started touching himself while staring you dead in the eye, casually moaning your name? I might make a second thing for this adding the rest of the Bowers Gang but,Like bro-HE WONT LEAVE MY HEAD 😭 and for male like he decides to leave Fem flabbergasted and bumped into Male room, then kinda walked in and yeah?

Another day passing, a peaceful weekend, meaning not having to deal with the Bowers Gang…is what I thought but this day became stressful for me.

I was peacefully in my room drawing who knows what, mostly just random doodles of cats or silly goofy things cause why not? I heard a knock on my door and I look up, seeing my mom.

“Sweetie? We’re having guest, get a shirt on.” My mom said quickly, closing my door again, oh yeah forget to mention I was chilling in a pair of shorts and bra cause I was comfy, but who could be visiting?

I sigh and get up, getting a long sleeve shirt on, I grumble as I left my room to see who is was, and who do I see?

Hockstetter and his mom standing inside our living. In my home? Fuck this-before I could slip away back to my safe space my dad spoke up.

“And there’s one of my kids” He said that on purpose? Fuck you dad.

Hockstetter turned and saw me, smirking a bit, damn it why is he so submissive and breedable looking but is a sadistic asshole that’s a tad aggressive?-

(All Y/n as siblings cause yeah)

“Hi…I’m [Fem]Y/n” I grumble a little, feeling all my stress appearing again and I barely left school.

His mom simply waved, greeting me and probably clueless of what her son was planning, meanwhile I felt like killing myself.

My brother walked in [Male] Y/n and he looked in disbelief seeing Patrick, he glanced at me and I shrugged.

“Ah, there’s my son” my dad spoke up, damn it.

“Why don’t you hang out with them?” My mom said looking at Patrick, he shrugged and walked over to me, meanwhile my brother left already, really said ‘ladies first’ we walked to my room, dread touched my heart.

Opening to my glorious room filled with randomly shit that related to my interests or gore art on the wall I pinned up. I sat on my bed, Patrick closed my door, damn it. He smirked lightly sitting in my spinning chair.

“You seem so tense..why is that?” He lightly mocked, I glared.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I grumble to myself again, glaring in hatred.

“Maybe..I might’ve said something about you to my mom to convince her to come over” he grinned.

“…bitch” I said lowly, he smirked at my hostile attitude, but he’s low key hot-stay focused.

“You know…I bet you would look so good bouncing on my dick.” I choke on my spit, not expecting that-well it was expected but it was so random.

“Huh?-“

“You heard me.” He stared, his eyes were burning into my soul and all I felt was lust waving over him.

“..image me fucking your thighs, then finishing on your stomach, or me fucking you senseless with a knife to your neck..image all the things I could do to you.” He had said so casually, i wasn’t used to a guy telling me his fantasies.

“Sometimes…I wanna fuck you from behind while you suck off Henry” he had continued.

Wow-wait? Henry? Damn, I knew it-he was most definitely bi. Probably gets off to fucking or pleasing girls while watching a guy.

“Or…suck Henry while you ride me I don’t complain” I cock a eyebrow at his words.

“…so…your just spilling your bisexual fantasies?-“ he simply nodded, I notice his hands started caressing near his bulge, but now I finally notice his bulge was erect.

“Look at that..all hard, and just the thought of you makes me all hot and bothered..even though sometimes I just wanna slit your throat.” He let out a low growl, he lightly started to rub his bulge, I gulped knowing I wanted out.

He moaned softly, “Y/n~..got me all excited~”..so how do I feel watching this go down?..mixed feelings. My heart jumped when I notice him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Letting his length come free he gripped it a tad tight while stroking.

“Fuck.~..I wanna feel you so badly. Ngh~” I was not gonna make eye contact with his cock, but he made me nervous looking him in the eye, good thing the walls are thick.

He was just touching himself while looking at me, he bit his lip.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Can’t handle seeing me want release Y/n?~ o-ah~” He closed his eyes for a second feeling the moment, it was a surprise he was so peaceful while masturbating.

He stopped suddenly, simply fixing his pants he got up and left my room, I was just-wow

“Huh?-“ was all I could say, I was speechless.

————-/////—————/////—————/////————

[Male] pov

I was chilling in my room, laying on my bed with music blasting through my headphones, eyes closed. But I wasn’t aware of the devil literally finding me and coming into my room, not even noticing he closed my door.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my chest, my eyes open immediately and I sit up. Patrick..what the fuck?-

“What does your bitch ass want?” I ask, taking my headphones off.

“Hm-“

“Actually don’t answer that.” I quickly said.

Before I could move much his hand gripped my thigh to prevent me from leaving. My cock twitched in confusion, but I didn’t wanna react to much.

“.you aren’t gonna leave.” He said lowly, before smirking again, he leaned in to the crook of my neck and started laying kisses down. My breathe lightly hitched at the feeling.

“Huh?-“ I was confused why he was showing a form of affection when he isn’t affectionate at all. I felt him lightly rest his hand on my thigh again, his thumb lazily rubbing against my bulge to get me excited. And yet it did, my cock started to harden at the sensation, I felt his smirk grow bigger in my neck.

He let out a chuckle, “fucking knew it”

“Knew what?-“ I cock a eyebrow,

“You would enjoy me touching your dick…slut” and there it was, the word I hated being called But liked it so much.

“What you call me?-say it again…i-like..hearing you call me that” I had shared, Patrick laughed at my words.

“Aw..the slut wants to be humiliated huh? Would you allow me to call you it in school?.~”

I nodded, “yes-if it means to hear you say it..” my body was begging to be stripped and fucked, he knew it to.

“Fucking prepare cause when the rest of the gang get here-“

“…what?” I side glance, my eyes went wide.

“Yeah..they’re planning to tag along here..mostly to play with you and your siblings.” He casually said, laying on his side comfortably.

“Let it sink in slut” the way the word slid off his tongue made me excited.

“Jesus fucking Christ” I rubbed my eyes.

“..your so-hot?” I randomly say, Patrick was amused by the way I was acting.

“I can tell I am in your eyes…also to let you know I randomly masturbate in front of your sister” that made my jaw dropped.

“The fuck?-“ I tried processing what he said.

“How did she react?-“ I ask

“Flabbergasted and confused” he shrugged his shoulders

“Sounds accurate enough”

(And here we are, one part done.)