#I did a human version of Shell

[nanamiskentos]

SO IT GOES — R. Sukuna

prologue. → newly-wed life is hardly what you expected it to be, its hardly a surprise. after all, how many people find themselves bound to the notorious king of curses? but after a frosty few weeks, sukuna finds the easiest way to win you over is when he's on his knees, and between your thighs.

pairing. ryomen sukuna x afab!reader

warnings. implied arranged marriage, sukuna-like jerkish behaviour that you might expect, softer ending, a bit of ooc sukuna and he's hardly an ideal husband but this is his version of trying, øral (fem! receiving), reader is referred to as 'little wife', questionable dynamics?

word count. 2.8k! song inspiration. so it goes — taylor swift, reputation a/n. up to u to imagine how reader ended up in this marriage lol

mp3. scratches down your back now, so it goes.

ryomen sukuna was not a being of great patience. as the king of curses, feared and revered for centuries, he had watched dynasties crumble, empires burn, and warlords kneel. but none of those victories compared to the relentless, quiet struggle he now faced: winning over his new wife.

it was absurd and annoying, really. why did he care what an impudent human thought of him? he had armies of souls quivering in terror before his throne, realms that chanted his name with bitterness and fury dwelling on their tongues.

yet, somehow, he found himself furious that you were as unimpressed with his power as you were by his world.

it gnawed at him, this strange need to see something other than disdain in your eyes. instead, he was growing sick of seeing you merely raise your chin, your gaze cold and unreadable, before turning and walking away, your robes trailing away like a splash of wine-red on stone floors.

and sukuna could only stand there, and scowl, with his arms crossed across his broad chest, resisting the urge to launch a column of fresh flames in your direction.

sukuna's first attempt had been bold, even by his standards. bolder than anything that a mortal like you ever deserved.

he had summoned the finest treasures from his vaults, gifts that would make emperors and khans grovel: strings of blood-red rubies, ivory combs carved with ancient spells, silks that shimmered like starlight under the cold nights. he had ordered them delivered to your chambers, confident these displays would thaw your indifference, for did women not clamour for such things in life?

yet you'd only glanced at them, a faintly polite look of thanks in your expression before you brushed the treasures aside, dismissing them as easily as the breeze stirred leaves in his gardens.

“it’s lovely,” you had murmured, your voice cool. “but unnecessary.”

unnecessary. the word irritated him, a thorn lodged too deep. unwanted. so he tried another approach.

the next evening, he brought you to his gardens — a place few had the honour of ever seeing.

it was quiet, twilight realm, with silver-petaled trees that glowed softly against the eternal dark. the air was scented with flowers that only bloomed under the moon, and shimmering koi would swim in ponds as black as polished obsidians. he'd assumed it would impress you, even move you to see such peace in a palace that was so fraught with the intimacy of blood, flesh and violence. instead, he felt all of his eyes twitch as you gazed around with a calm, fatigued expression, and nothing more.

"it's beautiful," you had admitted, fingers wringing under the long sleeves of your robe, but you had sniffled and looked back up at him with a mild grimace, "but i have really bad allergies to most flowers."

what the fuck were allergies?

later, he learned that it was some ailments that only mortals could suffer, one that would leave them reddened and swollen, gods be good.

sukuna could feel himself growing frustrated, and the urge to toss you in chains was welling up inside. yet, for reasons that he loathed to name, he fought it down. he didn't want you to leave, didn't want to watch you retreat into your shell yet again. but it was difficult letting the silence linger, this strange vulnerability settling deep within his chest.

and as night fell, alone in his vast chamber, the king of curses was ashamed to admit that he was brooding. if treasures and displays of tranquility meant nothing to you, what would? there was another avenue, one that left a curling, bitter pit in his mouth, a trait that he so loathed to display to all.

humility. how boring. how mortal.

but regardless, he appeared at the wide doors of your chambers the next morning. he had even relished the brief look of surprise on your face, but it was quickly replaced by the cool-glass mask that sat over your features once more. he must have made for quite the sight indeed — in his true form, two arms at his side, and the other two folded behind him.

sukuna didn't quite miss at how your gaze lingered over his vast form, and then your eyes twitched.

“today,” he announced gruffly, “i am going to make you tea. myself.”

how ridiculous, he could imagine uraume snickering to hell and back.

he half expected you to laugh or scorn him, but you simply raised your eyebrows, seemingly quietened and more curious. without waiting for you to decline, he led you to a quiet corner of the chambers, where servants tended to lay out such items, as part of a morning routine. there was a simple tea set, nothing adorned with gold or precious stones, but rather plain and finely crafted porcelain.

he waited for you to settle, watching as you arranged your thick skirts and tucked your legs beneath you. only then did Sukuna speak.

"i don’t like you," he said bluntly. "you’re ill-mannered and audacious. i’ve half a mind to send you back."

you blinked, her lashes lifting in surprise, and a small, satisfying crease formed between your brows before your expression turned into a scowl. "that’s rather unkind."

sukuna shrugged, eyes narrowed. "wouldn’t you say the feeling is mutual?"

you glowered back, unflinching. "you can hardly blame me. you’re a demon, after all. i don’t even know you."

"a 'demon' who has been exceedingly kind to you," he replied, his tone curt, clipped. "there are far worse fates that could have befallen you. i’ve been too amiable to a woman like you."

you had jutted your lower lip forward, your skin catching under your teeth, lips dark as cherries dipped in blood and wine, and for a brief moment, sukuna's ire faltered before refocusing.

"and you think kindness is stuffing me into fancy chambers and draping jewels around my neck? like i'm one of your prized and properly bred deer?"

sukuna leaned forward, arching a brow with lazy derision. "don't speak ill of my prized herd. but go on, preach to me of kindness."

your scowl deepened. "you haven’t even bothered to ask me a single thing about myself. showering me with material things isn’t how you make someone happy, much less a wife. the servants told me you forbade me from attending your court, and i'm left alone in this palace for days on end."

sukuna blinked, yes, he had forbidden you from attending court, but that was for both your dignities. it would be disastrous to expose you to the fools, murderers, and curses of his realm — a mortal bride, naive and untrained, would only appear weak and vulnerable.

"fine," he said, with a hint of resignation, and ridicule. "i’ll ask things about you from now on. would that make you feel better, little wife?"

he pushed the tea he’d prepared towards her, holding the porcelain cup in his hands. "now, go on. drink this."

your gaze remained cool as you eyed the steam brewing in the cup. "the first thing you should know is that i don’t like this tea, you picked the wrong leaves. you drink it, good husband."

sukuna resisted the urge to throw the boiling liquid at you, but instead he pushed the cup into your empty hands, "don’t be a fuckin' brat. behave and drink it."

you didn't say anything, but you shoved the cup back into his larger hands, and sukuna snarled, thrusting the delicate tea with a greater force than expected, and splash!

the silent tug of war had resulted in the bitter leaves being strewn across the heavy silk layers of your robes, and despite himself, sukuna couldn't help how his lips quirked upwards at your shocked, angry expression as you launched yourself up, flicking your sleeves in his face like a flapping bird, muttering furious, filthy words that not even a sailor would sing on his most drunken of nights.

as you stormed around the chamber like an angry parrot, sukuna watched you silently, and surely he could not be faulted for this. he would not admit this ever, but it was pleasing to rest his eyes on your figure, on your face, on the cling of your robes to the curve of your hips.

"go sit on the bed."

you whipped around, glaring at him. "i will not! stop telling me what to do."

"enough of being difficult, sit down."

now your voice had begun to falter, "i need to change my robes. this is improper if i'm to leave these chambers."

by now, he had stood and moved quick to the edge of the vast canopy bed, where you had perched yourself gingerly. close, all too close, where he could inhale the intoxicating scent of honey and mint, a fresh soap perhaps?

"i will determine what is proper, and improper," sukuna murmured, and there, for the first time in written history, the king of curses dropped to his knees.

and he relished the flush on your cheeks, a red brushstroke that had appeared as quick as a fallen star, running your skin awash with heat. you had peered down at him, squirming under his many-eyed gaze. and he enjoyed this, relished at bringing himself closer to her long skirts, until his hands found their place on your thighs.

"what are you — " your words trailed off, tone breathier, as he pawed suddenly at the silk, pushing it up, and up. revealing the stockings you had worn to combat the winter cold, where the hem clung to the fat of your thighs, and so close to the silk of your innermost garments that were now starting to feel like an awful suffocation.

"what am i doing? helping you, or is this not a manner of how a husband can treat his unruly wife?"

you couldn't help but feel a shiver run through you, a tremble pass through your very core as the world around you faded, and all you could focus on was the pair of warm, large hands that ran along your sensitive skin.

"ah, ah —," sukuna rumbled smoothly, lips quirked up a fraction, "we can't have you suddenly shy now, can we? had quite the mouth on you a minute ago."

you weren't sure where to direct your gaze. to the window outside, frosted from the cold hands of winter. to your hands, which lay at your side, rumpled up in your bundled skirts. or to the blush-haired king between your legs, whose carmine eyes were crinkled in feigned amusement, and darkened with undeniable lust.

he taps the plush of your thighs once more, watching as they ripple under the press of his fingertips, "enough being coy. spread them. i do not have all day."

it would not have been a falsehood to claim that a deeper, headier feeling lay in your abdomen, purring like a beast that begged for its maws to be free. undoubtedly, a puddle of slick would be pressing against the silk of your undergarments, like a translucent stain that created a darker, glossy patch between your legs.

but you did not budge, did not move your thighs further. you loathed to admit this to a living soul, but perhaps you found satisfaction in this. there was a sort of pleasure in watching a mighty being brought low, and close to the apex of your thighs. but it seemed that your husband's limited patience had worn thin.

his dark nails dug into your thighs brusquely, in a tight and unyielding grip, knocking them back as if he had no time to spare for anything else in the world.

"fuck you, you're so -," and then your voice breaks off, as the king of curses is pressing his tongue against the sleek, dampened fibres of your undergarments.

and it's oddly...pleasing for sukuna. how intoxicating. he runs his tongue between his teeth, catching around a fang as he fights back the realisation that this is no chore for him, not anymore. perhaps both parties in this room have their own vested interests now.

he pushes his fingers past the undergarments, where slender fingers find a home in the gloss that's practically leaking out of you, "i do not bore you so much now, do i?"

"shut up, - ah!"

he's practically twirling his middle and ring finger between your folds now, letting them run a smooth dance over glistening skin and it left you keening and whimpering, for he was so so close to where you truly wanted him, needed him.

but you need not even articulate this wanton request for him, for his mouth is back on your core, and he's clearly enjoying this without abandon, and without shame. strands of sweet slick splattered across his chiseled features, clinging to his lips but he seemed to care not, and you could only moan and squeal when his fangs made contact with more force that intended.

one arm has your thighs pinned back, leaving a clear space for him to slot his wide frame in between the gap, and another works to pump fingers between your tight walls. a mortal man may be exhausted to his limits in such a state, after all, what can one accomplish when limited by two limbs?

but your husband is no mortal man. a third hand has been running down your groin, past the hair on your mound and from there, a thumb right on your throbbing clit. you feel as though you forget how to breathe when his fingers waywardly flick around, and you cry out, the feeling leaving you breathless and your heart absolutely pounding for reprieve.

"so now she can behave," sukuna's voice is low, mocking and your hands find purchase in the surprisingly soft strands of his hair, pulling forward, as you can't help but get another jibe in.

"if only you had done, hah - this from the start," your voice curls up the sky, weak to your own ears.

smack!

a sharp and shrill cry left your parted lips, as the thick pads of his fingers had come pressing down on your swollen bud. and you could feel stars building up between your eyes, caressing you and taking your breath away.

sukuna looks pleased, mouth glistening and his crimson eyes narrow, "that will teach you to speak when you're spoken to, brat."

and you can only yank on his scalp harder, relishing in how you can feel his broad shoulder's jostle as you do so. your husband's face is flushed, brows furrowed and later you will wonder and marvel at just how intently he seemed to be enjoying such a task that he claimed was so menial and beneath him.

you pity the servants who will not speak a word, but exchange glances as they bundle up the sheets after this. for it's nothing but a syrup-laden mess by now, sloppy and purely wet.

by now the world has long disappeared behind you, in front of your very eyes, and you can only heave your chest towards the sky, rolling your eyes back and shamelessly giving into the wanton moans that bubble out from your lips.

and sukuna is nothing short of utterly satisfied. one look at his mouthy wife's expression, cherry lips parted in a perfect circle, and brows furrowed like a painting — like arrows leaving their bow and finding their target. you need to finish on his tongue, he needs you to finish.

so he pushes his face into your sloppy, sticky cunt even harder. he even lets you run your hands through his hair (a criminal offence, he is certain but perhaps he'll let you go, just this once). he almost purrs when your hands wander further onto his neck, leaving small scratches that almost make him release into his pants.

but now all his energy is poured into making sure you get your climax, that you submit to him and let him have you.

"are you close, little wife?" his voice is akin to gravel now, raw like each clipped syllable was a little too rough for the air to carry. and he only receives breathy whimpers in response, your hips moving off their own accord against his face.

and it's only when you jolt against him, stiffening and crying out praises to the heavens and to the gods, that he loosens up, and pulls you even closer, till your thighs are spread entirely at the widest angle they may reach, enough to leave the muscles in your thighs sore and aching afterwards, "there are no gods here, wife. you best get used to that."

and afterwards, you cannot help the bubbling, bashful grin that erupts over your bitten, stung lips as you peer at your husband who dutifully rests in between your thighs still, you could get used to that indeed.

"do it again."

[joelmillergirl]

Don’t Hate You- Joel Miller

An enemies to lovers story.

Word count: 3,298

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, one spank, rougher sex, slight degrading, oral (m receiving) hate sex, but they actually don’t hate each other!

Author’s Note: Love a good enemies to lovers. I did not proofread because I was ashamed!! :D

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

He was your neighbour; an interesting concept after 20 odd years of being alone with no sense of community. The apocalypse had torn through the world, separating friends from foe and dividing humanity into crushed pieces.

And then there was Jackson.

Jackson was small when you first showed up, bloody and beaten, tired of fighting. There were about 20 people at that time, all working hard to fix up the old town they had taken residence in. Maria had taken you in without any thought, allowing you to be someone after years of just living as another being, untrusting and rough, a shell of who you once were.

Five years later, you, along with the town, had blossomed. Buildings were now as new as they could be, with the resources the townspeople could find. Jackson had a bar, a laundrette, a clothes and a grocery store; things that had been hard to adjust to because your brain had been hardwired to live a certain way, were now able to just relax.

Slowly but surely, you were able to build yourself up into the personality you had before everything fell apart. A nicer, happier version of yourself. You knew everyone in town, always being greeted when you stepped out your door, they called you Honey.

“Sweet as honey, you are.” Eugene had said to you, an older man who had fought alongside Tommy in the fireflies.

The latter man scoffed, “Not to me, always teasin’ me, makin’ fun of me.”

You smile at him, “Chin up, Tommy. Someone has to keep that ego of yours in check.”

Every face in that town you could put a name to, until one day you couldn’t. Two new faces, one gruff with a frown, and the other smiley with her mouth constantly moving. You learned of their names; Joel, and Ellie. Before you could get the chance to introduce yourself, they had left.

“Where’s your brother? And the girl?” You hesitantly asked Tommy one day, raising the glass of whisky to your lips.

He shook his head once, downing his drink in one go, “Just needs to get something done. He’ll be back.”

Tommy's short reply had irked you more than it should have. Everyone in town was talking about the mystery man with his mystery kid; who were they? How long would they be away? You wish you knew the answer.

A few months later, you awoke to a distinctive voice; Tommy, yelling orders right outside your bedroom window. You tried to endure it for a while, a pillow placed over your head in an attempt to muffle the echo of his voice, but that proved to be a fail.

Thin cardigan around your body, fluffiest socks you could find, and a frown on your face, you move down the stairs in your house, muttering to yourself angrily. "Tommy!" You call out, gently closing your front door.

Tommy looked up with a guilty expression, "I'm sorry, I know-"

"It is the crack of dawn, you better have a good reason why I'm hearing your voice so early!" You finish, standing by the edge of your fence, arms crossed against your chest.

A third voice. A man stepping out of your neighbouring house. "Sorry, Ma'am, Tommy was just helpin' us settle in."

He was unapologetically handsome. Simply wearing jeans and a short sleeved shirt, with one expression plastered across his face at all times. Joel. You hated how at the sight of him, your arms unfolded from your body, hated how you couldn't really find yourself to be angry anymore.

You shift on your feet, cheeks flushing pink, "You're back."

Tommy raised his eyebrow, eyes moving between the two of you, "Honey, this is Joel, my brother, and your new neighbour."

Joel nodded in your direction, looking at you curiously. You shake your head softly, "Keep it down, Tommy." Your eyes move over to his brother, "Welcome to Jackson."

Then you were moving, back into the comfort of your own house where you slapped yourself in the face, embarrassment bubbling its way inside of you.

Two days later, you felt bad. Your bad impression with Joel replayed in your head endlessly, so bad that you had avoided going outside whenever you could hear voices next door. It was later when you knocked on their door, now in more appropriate clothes and with a clearer mind.

If he was shocked you were standing outside his door, he didn't show it, you spoke straight away. "I just wanted to properly introduce myself, I know you mustn't think too fondly of me." You give him your name along with a small smile.

Joel watched silently as you rambled an apology, only offering a small grunt and a nod of his head before closing the door in your face. You stood there for a moment, taking in what had just occurred. The rejection stung slightly, your inability to make amends with him weighing down on your shoulders. You hated how small that made you feel, hated how much you yearned for him to say something, just so you could hear his voice in that low, Southern drawl.

Tommy couldn't understand why your face soured whenever Joel's name was brought up, or why your fists clenched after watching his brother talk with other people. Why Joel seemed to talk to everyone except for you. Tommy sat in front of you in the booth at the bar, waiting for an opportunity to finally figure out what he had been suspecting. His eyes locked onto someone behind you and before you could ask, he was already calling out. “Joel! C'mere."

Your eyes widened slightly as you sat up straighter, kicking Tommy's leg under the table. You heard his boots stop next to you, his presence looming over the table you were leaning on. Tommy nodded his head slightly at you, "How're you guys gettin' along as neighbours? Haven't gotten any complaints yet, so must be goin' well."

Joel stayed quiet for a moment, eyes glancing over to you for a split second, "'S fine. Nice house you put me in."

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head with a smile, "Wasn't asking about the house, brother. You guys good?"

Joel looked down at you, eyes flickering down your face and to your hands that rest on the wooden table. “We’re good. She’s uh…” He paused, seemingly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “She’s a good neighbour.” He confirmed, suddenly looking everywhere but you and his brother.

Tommy smiled triumphantly, looking at you again. “Honey? He a good neighbour?”

You look at him unimpressed, feeling uncomfortable to be put in such a position, and furthermore the sight of Joel tapping his fingers against the table impatiently from the corner of your eye, made you feel angry. Unnecessarily so.

“Actually, Tommy, no. He’s not a good neighbour. He’s a dick. Always… slamming his gate when he gets back from night patrols.” You breathe out deeply, feeling the brothers’ gazes on you as you looked away. “I needa head back, I’ll see you Tommy.”

You hastily make your way out, “Oh god, why did I say that?” You whisper to yourself, embarrassment coursing through your body.

Three days after that incident , you had managed to avoid Joel like he was the plague; more than how you used to ignore him. His little girl, Ellie had approached you a few times, mocking your silence and asking why you didn't get along with the oldest Miller. You couldn't say that it was because how unnecessarily hot his accent was, or how he liked to wear tighter shirts that made your skin crawl with need, so you shrugged.

On the fourth day of ignoring Joel Miller, you had lost your streak.

It was later in the evening, everyone was either crowded in the dining hall, or in the comfort of their own homes, everyone but you. The winter coat you had on was not doing you justice, the freezing wind managing to slip through the small cracks, touching your skin. Although, you could barely call it a coat, material so worn and thin you would've been better in a long-sleeve shirt. You had been walking for a few minutes, nose pink, when you heard your name being called behind you.

"What the hell are you doin, wearing this in the middle of winter?" None other than Joel Miller scolded, grabbing you by the arm when he was close enough to. "You suicidal, woman?"

"Charming." You responded, trying so hard to ignore the warmth he provided by holding your arm. "Just walking, don't see the problem."

Joel scoffed, looking genuinely annoyed, "Don't see the pro-..." He trailed off for a moment, "You're going to freeze. And given our unpleasant history, I'll probably be blamed for your death."

Not waiting for a response, he started to pull you behind him, making a beeline for his house. You stuttered out, trying to object, "Joel, I'm perfectly capable of walking back to my house."

"Don't want you going back to your house. Need to talk with you." He shortly responded, ignoring your tugging. Once he had opened his door and you could feel the heat emitting from his house, you had settled slightly, but still shot Joel a glance as you entered.

"Go sit by the fire." He ordered, walking off into his kitchen, "Fuckin' hell." He mumbled.

You scowl at his back, debating with yourself for a second before deciding to follow his orders, sitting yourself down on the floor in front of the hot embers. You moan out in relief, shuffling a bit closer before turning your head to the side, watching Joel frown as he poured something in two mugs.

"Coffee." He grunted, walking over and placing the mug in your hands before sitting down on the chair next to you, sported with his own cup. "Drink it."

The mug helped you warm up faster, the heat reaching your fingertips and moving up your hands. "Prefer tea." You shortly respond, taking the drink up to your lips.

A moment of silence commenced before either of you talked again. Joel sighed deeply, and you saw from the corner of your eye his hand resting over his face, "Why're you so difficult?"

His words sunk into your brain. You scoffed, "I'm difficult?"

"Yes. You are."

You place the mug down beside you, looking into the flames for a moment. "I tried making amends with you, Joel. Tried being nice."

His silence fuelled your frustration. "Talking and smiling to everyone but me... Because I, what? I scolded your brother for being loud?" You continue, shaking your head.

Joel didn't talk, he didn't move. Only when he was sure you were finished talking did he speak. "You did try bein' nice... And uh... God, I hate this." He paused, taking a deep breath, "Didn't think it was a good idea for us to be nice. To talk."

"What?" You asked, turning to look at him, "You didn't think it was a good idea? That makes no sense, Joel. If you just don't like me, say that, don't try making up all these excuses!"

His eyebrows furrowed, he too had abandoned his mug onto the side table next to him. "Not makin' any excuses."

You laugh shortly, "Okay, Joel. I'll leave you then, get outta your hair... Seeming as this,' You gesture to the both of you, "Is not a good idea."

As you stood, Joel quickly followed, grabbing onto your shoulder to stop you from running. "I knew it would be a bad idea because the second I laid my eyes on you, you had me wrapped around your finger. Fuckin'," He took a breath, looking away from you for a moment, "Can't get you out of my head, you're everywhere."

"I don't..." You frown, looking up at him, your uneven breathing matching his, "I don't understand."

"I can't stay away from you, I can't do it anymore." He confessed, letting go of your shoulder, instead running his hands through his hair. "You don't even know what you do to me."

You watch him for a moment, trying to rationalise your feelings, "So, you... You act like a dick, and ignore me, shut doors in my face, and now I'm finding out it's because you can't stay away from me? That's so stupid!"

His neck was flushed, the pink hue travelling down to his chest, you forced yourself to keep your eyes on his face. He looked borderline desperate now as he stepped closer, "Tell me to stop, I will. If... If you let me have you, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

"How did we go from hating each other to this?" You ask, eyes flickering over his face.

Joel shook his head gently, his hands moving up to touch your neck, fingers ghosting your skin. "Didn't really hate each other. Did we?"

"Hated you. You're arrogant." You whisper, taking off your thin jacket, a shirt on underneath.

"Keep goin'." He nodded, frowning at your choice in clothing.

His fingers moved on his own accord, moving down to the bottom of your shirt, tugging on it. "You slammed your door shut in my face." You continue, pulling the shirt off your body and throwing it on the floor.

"Like an ass." He agreed, his eyes taking in your upper half, hungrily staring at the bra you were wearing.

As if in a trance, you pulled your pants off yourself, "Just wanted to apologise to you for my bad impression." You tell him, now standing in your underwear in front oh his clothed self.

Joel nodded, his breath intaking as he looked at you, "Didn't care what you were sayin' that morning, baby. Comin'. out in that singlet of yours, tiny shorts. You thought that cardigan was gonna help ya? Was hopin' you'd yell at Tommy all day."

Your pussy clenched at his words, a gush of heat travelling upwards. "I was rude to you in the bar the other day... In front of Tommy." You confess, kneeling down in front of him, your face now in line with his growing bulge still restrained in his jeans.

"Yeah, baby." Joel agreed, "Had to listen to him lecture me for an hour." He reached down and moved your hair out of your face, looking deeply into your eyes.

His zipper was down before he could blink, quickly helping you pull down his pants, his boxers following soon after. His cock was big, bigger than you had expected it to be. Its red head was dripping with pre come, falling down the sides of him. Your hand experimentally wrapped around him, seeing how much you'd be able to take, only to find that your hand was not able to close properly.

"It's big, I know." Joel hummed, his cock twitching in your hands, "You can take it."

Your hands began moving after he spoke to you, making sure to squeeze down on him. His head fell back in pleasure, a groan releasing from his throat. After a few minutes of slowly jerking him off, you brought your head closer to his tip, carefully wrapping your lips around him. At the added pleasure, Joel looked down, letting out a whimper.

"Fuck, feel so good." He told you, scrunching his eyebrows together, "Look so good." He added, his hand coming down to hold your cheek.

With new profound confidence, you moved your head faster, making sure to match the speed with your hand. His moans grew louder, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head, fisting some of your hair. "Alright, alright." Joel quickly said, pulling your head off his cock, now topped with the glisten of your saliva.

"Need it." You whisper, using his hand to help yourself up, tugging down your underwear before helping Joel out of his shirt. You look up at him expectedly, legs clenching together.

Joel looked down at the sight, mockingly sighing, "You wet, baby? Need me to take care of ya, huh?" He gently grabbed your hand pulling you behind him as he approached his couch. You watched as he sat down, spreading his legs widely, a sight that was truly sinful.

He gestured to his lap, and you took the hint. Climbing onto him, you didn't break eye contact, your chest pressed against his as you looked into his eyes. "Here." He whispered, reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra, peeling it away from your body. "God, you're..." He sighed, leaning back against the couch as he stared at your breasts, "You're gorgeous."

"Still hate you." You mumble, leaning up with your hands on his shoulders. He gripped his cock from under you, dragging the tip across your clit and down your pussy.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking up at your face as he placed himself up near your entrance, your legs already shaking with need. Your arousal dripped down the side of his dick, fluids mixing together. "Doesn't feel like you hate me."

You shook your head, moving downwards gently, just far enough that the tip of him slipped inside you. You both groan. "I do hate you." You try and convince him, taking him further inside you with every second that passed. When your ass met his thighs, you moaned out loudly, tilting your head backwards. "Feel so deep."

Joel smiled lazily, pressing his hand against your abdomen, "Right up here. Go on, show me how much ya hate me. Fuck it all outta ya." He slurred, his accent becoming more pronounced the further he lost himself inside you. You started with small grinds, getting your body used to the intrusion first, shaky breaths and pants falling from your mouth as your clit rubbed against his pubic hair.

He helped you bounce after, his large hands on your ass, pulling you up and down on his dick, roughly meeting those movements with his own thrusts below. Once he was confident you had found your rhythm, he leant back, watching. "Still hate me?" He shakily asked, his hands moving from your breasts down to your clit, rubbing slow circles there.

"No." You cry out, moving your body forwards so you were laying on him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. "Please." You beg, although you weren't sure of what.

Joel wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as his hips drive faster up into you. The sounds of your skin colliding echoing through his house, aiding in the pleasure you were feeling. Joel grunted in your ear, one of his hands coming down onto your ass, slapping it. "Gonna cum, baby. Come on, need to feel it."

You lean up slightly, chest heaving against his. "So close." You whisper, leaning your forehead against his. The sensation of his hands roaming your body, the feeling of his cock pistoning up into you, and your own need for him fuelled your orgasm. Just as you started clenching around him, Joel moved his head up, catching your lips in a kiss before his own orgasm escaped him. You came together, legs shaking and breaths coming out hot as you kissed.

Somehow, the kiss felt more intense than the mind-blowing sex you had just had, the intimacy of it had your heart clenching. "Don't hate you." You sighed, pulling away from his lips. "Hated how you made me feel. Wanted you so bad."

He nodded. "I know, baby. Me too."

As they dressed themselves and sat with each other by the fire, discovering new emotions and sensations with one another the rest of Jackson had continued moving around them, acting like another day; though your life would now be irrevocably changed.

[news4dzhozhar]

Yasmin Porat, a survivor of the bloodshed at Kibbutz Be’eri, near the boundary with Gaza, says many Israeli civilians were killed by Israeli forces.

An Israeli woman who survived the Hamas assault on settlements near the Gaza boundary on 7 October says Israeli civilians were “undoubtedly” killed by their own security forces.

It happened when Israeli forces engaged in fierce gun battles with Palestinian fighters in Kibbutz Be’eri and fired indiscriminately at both the fighters and their Israeli prisoners.

“They eliminated everyone, including the hostages,” she told Israeli radio. “There was very, very heavy crossfire” and even tank shelling.

The woman, 44-year-old mother of three Yasmin Porat, said that prior to that, she and other civilians had been held by the Palestinians for several hours and treated “humanely.” She had fled the nearby “Nova” rave.

A recording of her interview, from the radio program Haboker Hazeh (“This Morning”) hosted by Aryeh Golan on state broadcaster Kan, has been circulating on social media.

Notably, the interview is not included in the online version of Haboker Hazeh for 15 October, the episode in which it apparently aired.

It may well have been censored due to its explosive nature.

Porat, who is from Kabri, a settlement near the Lebanese border, undoubtedly experienced terrible things and saw many noncombatants killed. Her own partner, Tal Katz, is among the dead.

However, her account undermines Israel’s official story of deliberate, wanton murder by the Palestinian fighters.

Although it no longer appears on the Kan website, there can be little doubt about the recording’s authenticity.

At least one Hebrew-language account posted part of the interview on Twitter, now officially called X, and accused Kan of functioning as “media in the service of Hamas.”

Porat also gave her account to the Israeli newspaper Maariv.

However, the Maariv story, published on 9 October, makes no specific mention of civilians being killed by Israeli forces.

And in a half-hour interview with Israel’s Channel 12 on Thursday, Porat speaks of intense gunfire after Israeli forces arrived. Porat herself received a bullet in the thigh.

Not only does Porat tell Kan that Israelis were killed in the heavy counterattack by Israeli security forces, but she says she and other captive civilians were well treated by the Palestinian fighters.

Porat had been attending the “Nova” rave when the Hamas assault began with missiles and motorized paragliders. She and her partner Tal Katz escaped by car to nearby Kibbutz Be’eri where many of the events she describes in her media interviews took place.

According to Porat speaking to Maariv, she and Katz initially sought refuge in the house of a couple called Adi and Hadas Dagan. After the Palestinian fighters found them they were all taken to another house, where eight people were already being held captive and one person was dead.

Porat said that the wife of the dead man “told us that when they [the Hamas fighters] tried to enter, the guy tried to prevent them from entering and grabbed the door. They shot at the door and he was killed. They did not execute them.”

“They did not abuse us. They treated us very humanely,” Porat explained to a surprised Golan in the Kan radio interview.

“By that I mean they guard us,” she said. “They give us something to drink here and there. When they see we are nervous they calm us down. It was very frightening but no one treated us violently. Luckily nothing happened to me like what I heard in the media.”

“They were very humane towards us,” Porat said in her Channel 12 interview. She recalled that one Palestinian fighter who spoke Hebrew, “told me, ‘Look at me well, were not going to kill you. We want to take you to Gaza. We are not going to kill you. So be calm, you’re not going to die.’ Thats what he told me, in those words.”

“I was calm because I knew nothing would happen to me,” she added.

“They told us that we would not die, that they wanted to take us to Gaza and that the next day they would return us to the border,” Porat told Maariv.

In the Channel 12 interview, Porat elaborates that although the Palestinian fighters all had loaded weapons, she never saw them shoot captives or threaten them with their guns.

In addition to providing the captives with drinking water, she said the fighters let them go outside to the lawn because it was hot, especially as the electricity was cut.

[quietplace26]

So if you read platinumrosetail's Furina!reader fic, which is here, you'd know I requested that, but me and her also spoke about other ideas? And well, I wanted to do my own version of a Furina!MC.

NOTES:Leviathan is a name I gave for Pre!Fontaine Neuvillette because you can't tell the reincarnated Hydro Sovereign already had Neuvillette as his name. I got it from his constellation.

WARNINGS: OCness for Focalors and Neuvillette, and possible yandere ness from our Ludex?

Imagine MC being an introverted gamer going to sleep one night after a long session of Genshin Impact... and waking up as Furina.

Not a Furina from post Archon quest.

No. She was a Furina who was newly born. A Furina who was just cursed to be immortal and also given her task by her Divinity side, Focalors, to watch over Fontaine.

MC would immediately break down into tears, bawling like a baby because what the fuck, this wasn't fair!

Focalors was exactly how a god should act. Cold, calm, and collected. She doesn't give MC any time to collect herself before warning her to do. Her. Part.

Small blessings do happen, as thankfully the Hydro Archon's godly side doesn't notice how odd her 'human side' was acting. Only that 'it' was being too emotional. Humans were really strange creatures.

So that meant she didn't care to dig deeper, dig to find out her 'human side' had memories of a past life, where she and all of Teyvat was a game.

Thus begins MC's life... as Furina.

Its horrifying, being someone you aren't. Furina!MC wasn't as graceful as Furina, as good at acting as Furina, but she could at least sing.

This talent only coming through due to her past life as a gamer who adored music on the side. She loved singing songs from her favorite games or shows, even trying to break out her shy shell at times by being a faceless singer on YouTube along with her gaming.

But even so, it was almost too much for her. She might be a 'goddess' but she was truly a human at heart, in memory. She wished she could go back to reality...

Because what happiness awaits her as Furina? Force to act like a puppet for her Divinity side, force to act like a bratty goddess for Fontaine?

And what's to say about the future? She still had to lead a nation! And the people who were living in fear due to the prophecy!

And then there's... Neuvillette.

That's what scares her the most. Neuvillette. He was once her favorite character in Genshin Impact. His looks, his voice, his LORE, you loved everything about him... but now?

She. Was. Terrified.

Neuvillette wouldn't be like the Neuvillette she remembered from the game. No. He would no doubt be more... angry. Distrustful. Dangerous.

And why wouldn't he be. He would've been recently reincarnated as a human, only to eventually be invited by the Hydro Archon, the one who holds his authority that was wrongfully taken from him.

Its never distinctly said in the game, but most can guess that Neuvillette and Furina probably didn't have the best start. Taking nearly all of the 400 years they knew one another to even give Neuvillette a choice to trust and maybe even become fond of Furina.

But what scared her the most was what will happened in the future. The moment when she would be betrayed. Being humiliated in front of everyone in Fontaine and her name being dragged through the dirt.

And Neuvillette will let it happen. Let it happen like it happened to the real Furina...

And even afterwards, when the prophecy was avoided, and Fontaine saved... Furina will be alone. Yes, in the game, Furina left to travel, to feel like a human... but to Furina!MC, it felt bittersweet.

Did anyone in Fontaine even apologize to Furina after that trial mess? Neuvillette? It was never said... and probably didn't happen...

...It's been almost... 70 years, now? Furina!MC was trying to keep count, really, but the days, months, years... They were almost blurring together.

A human wasn't meant for this life... She was going to break-

Furina!MC didn't know what pushed her that day, but she just dropped everything, ignoring her assistants and followers cries, ignore her mirror self- Focalors' demands, and threw herself into Fontaine's sea, swimming as fast as she could.

Far from Fontaine, and blocking out Focalors connection to herself, Furina!MC breaks. Down. She cries, wails out her pain.

Eventually it tetters off to a shaky melody, as now a days, music was the only thing that brought her even the tiniest of joy...

"Mirror, tell me something... Who's the loneliest of all..." (Mirror Mirror, from RWBY: Ice Queendom)

Tears continue fall into the sea as Furina!MC sang... And the sheer pain and loneliness coming from them catches the attention of someone very special...

Deep within Fontaine's seas, a pair of lilac, draconic eyes flickers towards the surface... With a swish of a long, scaly tail, the owner of the eyes shoots towards the source...

The Hydro Dragon Sovereign. The beating heart of the Primordial Sea. The Leviathan. That was who he was and still is, even in this much more fragile and disgusting human form.

He had finally reincarnated a few years ago, and in his weaken state, knew he couldn't brute force his way into getting his authority back from the Hydro usurper... Not yet at least.

But as he bided his time, the Leviathan felt something one day. Something in the sea. Even without his authority, he could feel the slightest changes.

What he felt was utter and complete misery. Loneliness that only he thought he could feel.

He had to know what creature had such feelings, so he swam up from his hunting grounds and towards the surface.

He didn't think he would find a usurper as the source. And the Hydro one at that.

She was a tiny thing. Were humans, much less an usurper, supposed to be that small and delicate?

And her tears... Every drop that hit the water and he has to fight the urge to flinch at the sheer misery filling the sea.

He... He should take this chance to kill the usurper, right? Get his authority back-

"I'm the loneliest of all..."

The haunting melody coming from her lips stops him, making him actually look at her...

...Could he actually kill her? She... No. He couldn't. It... It felt wrong. Killing a female at her lowest. His pride as a Hydro Dragon wouldn't let him hurt a female like this.

So reluctantly, he continues to watch her from the sea, listening to her haunting, sad song. Her tears that reminded him of rain droplets, falling into the sea...

...Was no one taking care of her? Don't the usurpers' have followers? Why was she alone and in pain? It didn't make any sense to the Leviathan.

A female should be taken care of, not left alone like this.

And as his own mood soured, the rain began to fall... and the Hydro usurper glances up, surprised... and smiles, shocking him.

Unknown to him, Furina!MC loves rainstorms. It felt like it was washing away her pain and made her feel at peace.

Giggling, and feeling freer now, she let loose some childish inhibitions and started to dance around the beach in the rain.

And the Leviathan was bewitched by the sight. This tiny speck of a female, dancing around, looking as she was swimming on the land.

And when he saw her throw back her head, her white hair a mess on her head, her dress soaked through, all he saw was that bright, happy smile and knew what he wanted.

The Leviathan wanted this usurper. And didn't that fit? She was the Hydro usurper, and he was the Sovereign in which her powers were originally from, so it was fitting that she would be his.

His. Mate.

With this thought, he slowly emerges from the sea.

Furina!MC immediately stops dancing when she hears a splash from behind her. Spinning around, she squeaks out a gasp when she sees a familiar, but also not, figure standing in the sea.

Neuvillette. But he was different from what she could recall from her past life. More of his Dragon side was showing. Blue fin ears instead of the normal pointed ones, blue gills around his neck, sharp, blue tinted, clawed fingers, and even a long blue scaly tail.

This is a Neuvillette that must've reincarnated recently! Oh no, it was much too early for him to meet her! What was she going to do?! Fight him?! No, that's-

Furina!MC squeaks again as the Sovereign stalks his way towards her, reminding her of the fact he was naked!

Slapping her hand over her eyes, she stutters out words, trying to ask what he wanted or something, but all he replied with is a rumbling growl, and with his claws, gently pry her hands away, and leaned in close to observed her.

She felt absolutely tiny under his eyes. It made her blush even harder, because this certainly wasn't the time to feel shy and blush when there was a high chance of him killing her!

And why wouldn't he? She was an easy target-

Furina!MC meeps when Neuvillette suddenly leans in, nosing her neck, smelling her?!

The Sovereign purrs then. Purrs! And then picks up Furina!MC like she was a doll, and makes his way back into the sea despite his captive's pleas.

Unknown to her, he was taking her somewhere he considered safe. His den.

"...Uh, Lord Leviathan?"

Furina!MC timidly calls out to the Sovereign as the male curls around her, laying his head on her lap as the Archon sat by the underground lake he's taken her to. Hidden beneath the various islands around Fontaine.

Of course she made sure not to say 'Neuvillette', as that wasn't his name... currently. So she was trying to be polite. And he did tell her to call him Leviathan...

Furina!MC sighs in exasperation when all he did was grunt, pushing his face into her stomach., silently demanding she continued where she left off. That being... petting his head, or scratching his blue rhinophores, which she does, leading to the Sovereign purring happily and his tail lazily swishing in the water.

She's been stuck in this cavern for a least a week or more, making her wonder how Fontaine was doing... and weirdly enough, her 'mirror me' hadn't tried to contact her like she usually did. Was she still angry over the fact Furina!MC ran off? Oh... she probably was and that wasn't good.

She never reacted well when Furina!MC didn't act her part...

Neuvillette- er, Leviathan must've noticed her uneasiness, as he sits up, wrapping his arms around her, and hugs her tightly. A soothing rumbling growl leaves him.

"Be at ease, mate. You are safe with me..."

And there he goes again. Calling her his mate. It reminded her of her past life, when she used to read cringy romantic fanfics and such, and wished that could happen to her...

Leaning into the hug, she returns the nuzzles sleepily, letting the Sovereign pluck her up and carry her back to the main part of the den where the two of them slept.

Furina!MC still couldn't understand what was happening. Was this a ploy for him to regain his Hydro authority? Which in case, would fail since she was only the 'human' double of the Hydro Archon, thus didn't have the gnosis...

But feeling how snug she was in a warm nest, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, a long tail lazily wrapped around her legs, and her face squished against a chest covered in blue scales, Furina!MC thought,

"... Fontaine and Focalors can wait another week..."

[moonstruckdraws]

Poseidon

There you are, coward.

ver. 2

ver. 1

I don't know what's more terrifying: me making designs within the next 24 hours of the last one (technically) three times now, or the fact I'm getting motivation to draw guys (tbf it is mainly for interactions between the gods & art of couples but still).

I forgot to explain why Hephaestus doesn't have anything sentient/second set of eyes like the rest (excluding Aphrodite) of the gods so far. In reality, it's cause I had no ideas, whatsoever. But my headcanon idea is that because he was thrown out of Olympus and raised outside of it, he didn't get a sentient thing. I don't have it all thought out, but I want all the Olympians to have semi-sentient things on their person (with some outside exceptions like Antheia, but she is a Kharities so-). Idk, I'll figure it out. Or not.

Anyway:

Fun fact, this man had his board made ages ago (along with Aphrodite, Ares, & Amphitrite) back in November. Unlike those guys though, he stayed a blank canvas when I tried to draw him cause I could not for the life of me decide how to draw him. But now I did. Feels bittersweet.

I also do not have a lot for Poseidon. I feel like he's one of the gods you can predict how he looks like so easily and be similar to other people's versions like by 60%-80%, no shade of course. He's got the water hair & beard & gills, and only then do things get different between others' interpretations, depending on how monstrous/human/how many fishing nets can I put on this man they want to make it.

Apparently his sacred plant is wild celery, but I just couldn't find a place for it. Could make it another tattoo. Yeah, he has those because I couldn't think of any cool jewelry to give him. Good luck, me, in trying to draw it repeatedly (I'm already sick of it, but I like it). The shell on his right shoulder tattoo is to be a connection to Amphitrite, as one of her animals are shellfish, because I wanted to add a part of her to him. Another reference to Amphitrite are the tear shaped clips he has on his person that are on her design (that I need to update a little).

His tattoos also have dolphins on them of course. And the tied fabric of his cloth is supposed to be similar to dolphin fins (moreso the Hippocampus, but either work). He has a lot of waves on his design, of course, and swirls that are totally not annoying to draw. I also gave him a hook necklace for fun, no other reason. Because why would I...

Last thing is his hair. When looking at the 3/4th's view of him, you can see he does have more hair. It just isn't drawn- but it goes back into two braids. The braids are held together by his little crown and a clip in the shape of a horse. I plan for the horse to be his sentient thing, but we'll see..

[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU

Masterpost

Husk

Design notes and headcanons under the cut

Husk always struck me as the type that should be more stocky and broad. And he should have a beer belly, since alcoholism is a significant character trait of his. He's a fat cat. He has a few grey streaks in his hair to hint at his age. His clothes are more tattered to represent both his loss of power and his deal with Alastor. And his colors are duller after he lost his overlord status.

Older versions of his character portrayed him as a magician, and I really liked the idea of him using his magician skills to cheat at cards, which is why he got into gambling.

Generally speaking, his canon design is too busy and I simplified it. I didn't really understand why he had wings. Thematically, there's no reason for it and they overcomplicate the design. Instead, I gave him a magician's cape to reference his magician background. His hands are white to resemble the gloves magicians wear. The shirt helps to separate his dark fur from his pants, so they don't blend together too much.

He has card suit symbols integrated into his design. I didn't think to add a shirtless version here(if I get around to it, I'll update this with one), but he does have a spade pattern on his chest. You can see the tip of it around his collar. His nose is shaped like a heart, his tail has a diamond shape, and the paw pads on his hands and feet are clubs.

Human-

He was born in 1907 and died in 1975 at age 68 from liver failure. It's popular for people to design him as black, but I headcanon him with either Slavic or Jewish Russian ancestry. He's lived in the US his whole life though. The chipped tooth sorta just happened and I liked it. It kind of resembles his demon form's cat teeth.

He became a magician and used his skills in sleight of hand to cheat at cards. He became involved with a gambling syndicate in Las Vegas. And he was a heavy drinker(hence his eventual liver failure).

Is he a war veteran? Lots of people headcanon Husk as a Vietnam War veteran. But I'm not sure that works very well. At least, not with my headcanons. The draft for Vietnam went on between 1964-1973. Husk would have been 57 in 1964, and the number of Baby Boomers meant the draft could make more exceptions than in previous wars. So Husk was not involved with Vietnam.

But the draft for WW2 required all men 18-64 to register between 1940 and 1946. There are a few nuances, such as the required ages being narrower at the beginning of that time, but they ultimately don't matter here. Husk was in his 30s through the entire draft period. So unless he had a reason to be exempted, or he dodged the draft, he was probably going. But Husk doesn't actually strike me as a shell shocked veteran. So I'm leaning toward him being a draft dodger.

Syndicat the Gambling Overlord-

While doing Mafia research for Angel Dust, I came across a mention of gambling syndicates in Las Vegas. I realized it fit Husk's background, and decided his name before Husk could be Syndicat. I thought the cheesiness of it wasn't out of place. So here we are.

His magician life led him to gaining magician(mostly cards) related powers. He gambled for souls and won his way to Overlord and ran a gambling syndicate. But he got cocky and others started to catch on. They did different types of gambling that didn't involve things he could easily cheat in. He started losing bets, and he was too proud and addicted to cut his losses. Plus, he was the Gambling Overlord, he couldn't stop gambling!

Eventually Alastor showed up and challenged him to Syndicat's specialty: poker. The offer was practically too good to be true. They were gambling all the souls they owned(their own souls were implied to be included). If Syndicat won, he'd have the collective power of Alastor's souls. If Alastor won, Syndicat would still be allowed to keep his existing power in exchange for servitude.

Alastor was a top tier Overlord, and owning the Radio Demon would surely catapult Syndicat to the top! He thought he had this in the bag. But Alastor has an inscrutable poker face, magic of his own, and his soul isn't even available to be put on the table. Syndicat predictably lost, and his overlord status was officially gone.

It hadn't really mattered either way. The whole thing was rigged. Alastor's soul was never going to be Syndicat's, and Alastor had clawed his way to Overlord in record time(He took less than a week to orient himself, killed his first overlord, and that was it). So even if he lost, it wouldn't take long for the Radio Demon to be back in full force. He could have just destroyed Syndicat and gotten everything back anyway.

The Husk:

Alastor dubbed him a husk of his former self and kept calling him either Husk or Husker. Husk felt too sorry for himself to care, and decided the name fit. (He doesn't hate "Husker" any more than he does "Husk". In the pilot, he was just annoyed at being magicked away from his poker game)

As far as Overlords go, Alastor wasn't actually all that bad to work for. Husk had actually been a crueler overlord to his underlings. For the most part, Alastor let him carry on as before. Husk gambles for cash and drowns himself with more booze than ever before, but he can't gain or lose power while Alastor owns him. Alastor could bother Husk at any given moment without warning and drag him to do whatever, but it would sometimes be months or years between his summons(seven years was significantly longer than normal, but Husk never thought much of it until after). Alastor is mostly just manipulative, confusing, and condescending. He didn't try to hurt Husk, and rarely even threatened to. Husk was still going to be grumpy about it though.

(update notes will go here if needed)

[mk-wizard]

What Elita-One Taught Me About Femininity and its Importance to Feminism

Hi. Since there are so many articles and videos that talk about what Optimus Prime taught young boys about masculinity and being a real man, I wanted to do an article about my favourite lady Transformer who is none other than the better half of Optimus: Elita-One. And when I mean Elita-One, I mean the definitive version not the TF One version who is an immature teenager who still has growing up to do and not the Skybound version who is an angry broken shell of what she used to be (the real Elita-One is unbreakable but more on that later).

Specifically, I want to talk about what she taught me about femininity and how important it is to true feminism and yes, a character who only appeared once can have a profound effect. Think of female characters who appear in one off films or mini series. Anyway, I grew with the TFs, but rewatched the episodes in my very late teenage years which is when I could really understand what was going on. I should also mention that during this time, I was the weird girl who went through a phase where I kind of hated my own femininity. I thought that I had to choose between being a girl and liking action comics instead of fashion magazines. I started resent girl stuff, I started to believe I hated pink and I even began to believe the propaganda that Barbie was "problematic" and it was all her fault I had a weight problem.

But then... Enter Elita-One. When I first saw her and heard about her, I thought she was another female character who played love interest, but she wasn't. In fact, she very much was independent from Optimus yet was not separate from him (more on that later). I saw grown mature adult woman who was shamelessly girly, clad in pink, was very beautiful and was still taken seriously as a leader. Elita-One also doesn't put down, act sarcastic, shout, threaten, hate on men or act mean to be taken seriously. She is polite, speaks with grace and is calm helps her be a better leader. By keeping her feminine side intact, she kept her "humanity" intact as well as her sanity, her spirit and her hopes. She doesn't have this "I don't need a man!" obsession nor does she let the jabs of Shockwave or any Decepticon over her being so openly girly get to her. Elita is happily married to Optimus and uses her love for him and the future they could have as a motive to keep fighting and be so brave hence her famous quote "Elita-One knows no fear."

Moreover, she doesn't live to show up men or be better than them. She and Optimus are a team. She has bigger fish to fry like saving Cybertron. In her debut episode, she did get captured and only after putting up one hell of a fight. Although Optimus did come to save her, she did not take this as a blow to her ego. Elita-One was grateful, but also worried about his well being because he too got caught. Might I also add, she did not reprimand him or humiliate him in front of everyone for winding up getting caught himself in attempt to save her. Instead, she used her secret power to save him knowing it would likely kill her because she loves him and wanted at least one of them to get away alive not be martyred. In return, he saved her with the help of another man she loves dearly as a father and is not above turning to him for help either: Alpha Trion. Afterwards, Optimus and Elita fought alongside each other like a team. In other words, Elita sees Optimus as her partner not her rival nor does she feel a need to be perpetually dominant in the relationship because she loves him, respects him and in return, he treats her the same way. She also accepts that they each have a job to do and that he is Prime. Such a fact doesn't make her feel insecure. Elita-One is proud of him and loves being married to him.

Because Elita-One acted in such a way while preserving her femininity, her gentleness and taking up this protective, loving, wise mother figure approach to leading her team, those positive and wholesome habits rubbed off on them. Her female team mates are also openly proud of their femininity, they are confident, they are likeable and most notably, they don't hate men, they don't blame men for their problems and don't mimic the worst of the men just to appear strong. In fact, they had husbands and boyfriends themselves who they act very lovingly towards. The only people they hold accountable for the suffering in their lives are the actual antagonists being Decepticons who might I remind people aren't all men either.

When I saw all this, it was eye opening. It made me realize that while feminism is indeed about choice, it's not about choosing between nor is it about treating your feminine side like something you have be ashamed of. Even the biggest tomboys or androgynous people have feminine sides that they make peace with and even tap into from to time.

In the case of Elita-One, she taught me that femininity can be the source of a woman's strength, it can give her a lot of confidence and it makes her happy much like how wearing plaid shirts and jeans, growing a beard and other masculine habits give men a lot of confidence. Plus, a lot of these very masculine men are nurses, teachers, gardeners, florists, artists and even cake artists. The right to be feminine without shame is a huge part of feminism because a woman should be able to express herself and present herself without shame. Elita-One also made me realize that if I wanted to make it in the world, I had to stop seeing men as enemies all around me. This wisdom especially helped me when I began writing comics professionally and as you know, the comic community is male dominated. I built bridges instead of walls which helped me a lot and to add to that, it was my HUSBAND who encouraged me to do comics full time. And later, it was my dear son who inspired me to write a comic that got me nominated for an award.

Bottom line is that Elita-One taught me that femininity is not a weakness or outdated. Femininity is beautiful and can make you feel confident, mature and happy. Most importantly, it can help you let go of the false notion that you must act like a man (specifically, a toxic man) to be accepted or get ahead. You can be a pink lady who is married with kids AND still land your dream job. Moreover, when I at least stopped resenting womanhood, I stopped seeing enemies in men, enemies in other women especially successful ones or enemies in fictional women like Barbie. I learned to be happy for other people when they succeeded while still focusing on myself. And I can tell you all from now that being a feminine woman NEVER held me back socially or in my work. Yes, I still sometimes deal pigs out there, but they were not the norm. Even now in the comic world, nobody judges me for being an openly girly woman or for my lifestyle. And anyone who does is not someone I want in my life anyway.

That is what Elita-One taught me about femininity. She taught me what real confidence and what real strength in a woman looks like. You don't have be loud, rude or pretend you're a man. You just have to be yourself, and do your job. One does not hold back the other. Plus, if you really aren't girly, that's ok too. Just don't be a she-jerk.

With that all said, I have hope that feminine lady loving wife Elita-One will make a come back.

She never needed fixing just as Optimus never did. She is perfect.

[running-with-kn1ves]

fem scientist who created a frankstein!reader to have the cherish and love them but reader doesn’t have a care for that wants to explore the real world 🌎

Or

reader with self esteem issues orders a fem!robot off a shady website because reader can’t rizz a real girl

(idk plot wise but can it end in smut? I just want to be loved and caressed by a pretty lady 🥲)

A/N: So real anon... Feeling off about this one, was going to scrap it but I spent too much time trying to FIX it.

CW: Sex Robot GF, NSFW, loser reader

_________________________

There she stood, like the life size version of a barbie doll in a box. Only, she was far more bubble-wrapped and covered in styrofoam packing peanuts than a plastic barbie would be. Ripping open the protective layers keeping her pristine were harder than setting the android’s system up itself, its interface automatically connecting to your Wi-Fi and booting up with the click of a button. 

This wasn’t a moment of glory or ravenous hunger-- there was a level of gut-turning excitement in the back of your mind, true, but it was clouded by the insecurity of your purchase. A sex doll? What would your friends think of you when they came over? How the hell would you hide a human-sized being in your tiny bedroom?

No. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be concerned with that-- it was too late. You already paid a year-long warranty and they were keen on no returns. Your neighbors probably thought it was a new fridge, maybe a pre-built bookcase from how big the box was; little did they know the naked woman in your apartment was a top-shelf, silicone-covered, glistening creature of man-made horror that sounded, acted, and mostly looked like a real human. If only her eyes were a little less… uncanny. That might make you feel a bit better about having her lean over you in bed, trying to drag you back in each time you attempted to get up for work-- a lovely, and realistic programming factor that made you feel wanted, desired. 

She could even work in the shower, waterproof and fireproof as shown in a few kitchen mishaps. Despite how many accidents and new challenges you faced with the android, she remained in prime condition, never losing face or acting out of sorts; she was the only constant in your life. And best of all, she performed exactly how you hoped she would. Most of the time.

The smooth flesh of her fingers heated as they lazily rubbed circles over your underwear, slender and long and yearning. Your eyes glazed over while staring at the dim TV, focusing on the hand against your crotch. It didn’t feel right, how desperately she seemed to want you; she wasn’t real, of course not. So why did it feel so good when she kissed your neck with a cute nuzzle and pulled at the zipper of your jeans, her body heating as if there were real veins, and blood pumping beneath her shell? 

“I want to please you..” She’d murmur, awfully humanlike. “You’ve been aroused all day; waiting for me to recharge?” The grin spreading across her face could be heard through each well pronounced syllable; like usual, her intuition was scarily accurate. “Mm, there’s wetness collecting beneath my hands, your heart is beating faster than usual…”

You shift with your legs wider, letting her have easy access to the heat pooling below your stomach. Her fingers had a magic touch you previously only fantasized about-- the real warmth of a woman, of someone who would reciprocate your seemingly loser-like desperation. 

You nodded to her direct question, watching dark eyes scan you for tell-tale signs; the rich brown hid how she planned her next set of moves inside intelligent hardware. She noticed the way your palms grew sweaty, biting your lips as you kept thinking of hers, your eyes half-lidded as she kept swirling her finger over that one spot…

“How do you want it,” She asked, unconsciously sultry with a cautious hand pressing deeper against you. “Hard, soft… You seem particularly worked up today.”

“Please just…” You sounded like a bumbling virgin compared to her lustful sultriness, fumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it, just give me this.”

Her disbelieving look left you feeling sheepish, but still she pulled her hair back into a sloppy ponytail, keeping your gaze with scrutiny as the hair tie hung from her mouth. She wasn’t going to give up that easily.

 “That’s what I’m here for,” She drifts your damp underwear to your knees, leaving a trail of slick as it peeled from you. “To help, and to listen. So, go on.” 

‘Listening’ was a choice word to use, as she slid down in between your bare legs, licking her lips.

Her mouth hovers over your sex, hot breath fanning as she looks up at you, her pupils unnaturally large. You wait for her to begin, but she keeps herself there-- watching. Was she really going to make you talk about your crappy remote job?

“I said go on.” 

You felt her dip down tongue-first before you realized what she was doing-- thrusting the wet, mechanical muscle inside as it curled up, caressing the sides of your walls with a gentle harshness. 

The involuntary gasp you released left you gripping onto the couch, watching as a flush filled her cheeks. Pretty, carefully placed lashes batted at you as she sunk deeper against your thighs. 

“It was just-- IT bullshit,” You let out, watching as she pulls at your hips to force you farther onto her mouth, the sensation quickly becoming overwhelming. The lust buzzes in your mind, fogging it as you allow your eyes to unfocus. “You know, the usual-- people who can’t-- can’t do their jobs!” 

You feel for her hair for support, grabbing below the android’s ponytail as her hair fanned over your wrist, tickling your skin as her tongue grew hot and fast, impossibly so. How were you ever going to find a real woman who could compare? She was equipped with the tools that could make you come in under a minute; barely had she touched you, and you were starting to feel the build of a deep burn that would soon rise to a shuddering, gripping climax. 

Her open-mouthed hum of approval vibrated against you, her mouth moist and warm as it sucked from below. 

With a slick pop, she pulled away from your sex and licked her top lip, her eyes fierce and almost fearful in their intensity. 

“You’re right, it was bullshit,” Her pearly, off-white teeth shining to perfection, giving you a smile that was just as lustful as it was devious. She was made for this, to make you ache when she wasn’t touching you. “But it doesn’t matter now; now, is your time to de-stress.”

She climbs with precision onto your lap, a hand pushing your chest down to force you tight against the couch. You almost looked pitiful, drunken with lust and craning your neck so you could have a taste of her berry pink lips. 

“Your expression looks desperate, wanting; from what I can tell, you’re going to come soon.” She hovers over your parted mouth, witnessing the chapped and bitten lips from a dehydrated all-nighter and poor self care; nothing got past her high grade processors, no matter how hard you tried to hide your flaws, or your yearning. “You’ll have to take better care of yourself when I’m not around, otherwise… I don’t know how I can let you come in good conscience.”

The frustration from her edging, her droning, the press of her knee between your legs-- You had yet to figure out how to reprogram her cleverness, her knack for a soft form of mental sadism.

“Okay, okay,” It’s hard not to arch up against her as she finds the shell of your ear, flicking her tongue against it-- enticing you to submit. “I…promise. I’ll eat like-- a salad or something, tonight…”

Her fingers sweetly brush hair away from your eyes, watching as you practically drool for them-- she’s not easy to get past-- and breaking a promise like this, would leave you to be more destitute than if you actually just started taking care of yourself. 

“That’s what I like to hear.”

The android falls to your mouth, letting your tongue find hers as you muffle a moan against her, her touch mimicking a gentle kind of intimacy. It felt unbelievably comforting, warmth spreading in your chest and your belly; almost as good as if she were made of real flesh and bone. 

For a moment, you could forget the mess of your apartment, the missed calls sitting on your phone, the credits rolling on the television. It was her hand cupping your most sensitive aspect, driving you near to an orgasm that would leave you limp and shaking. As sad as it might be, this was the best part of your day. No more crappy phone calls or endless doom scrolling, just her, and you. Her hand down south, grinding against your leg as you lean into her touch.

Your human body however was no match for her stamina-- not to mention, your lack of doing anything but rotting in your apartment  has left you breathless just trying to thrust into her hand. 

Breaking the kiss she grins at your predictability, your rising heart rate. 

“Don’t go soft on me now, little human; keep going, love.”

Those sweet words could have you on your knees in a second, and they did wonders for your failing breaths. 

“Don’t stop,” You pitifully command. Your useless hands once resting on her hips fell into the dip of her loose shirt, where she lacked any bra to keep her uncannily perfect, symmetrical breasts in prime access. If you had the strength to move her iron body any closer, you’d shove your face against them to keep the world out. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” She whispers in your ear as you finally find the end you’ve been waiting for; letting her draw you to the crash of your orgasm, you find your finale. She lets you grip and cling like a desperate lover, the android holding you tight against her skin as her fingers move at an inhuman speed, letting lewd sounds fill the living room. 

You give yourself the freedom to scream against her, letting the pent up desire and need release from you as a shivering detox. The exhaustion sets in almost immediately, the sensation of her immovable grip on you leaving a painful sting as she rubs out the lasting spikes of your orgasm.

You try to find solace in the sound of her beating chest matching in rhythm with your own. The credits of your unwatched movie are still rolling, and you realize the last few minutes were just that-- minutes. It felt like an eternity being in the grip of arousal; a part of you wishes you were still in it, being rubbed slowly, just to keep her feeling you up.

“I love you.” She murmurs, slightly winded and drowsy, as if it were you speaking; for a moment you don’t think you’ve heard her right. But again, she whispers it into your other ear, squeezing around you. You go still, wordless with your heart skipping beat after beat, wondering if the afterglow of your orgasm has completely broken the last shred of your sanity. 

[colonelarr0w]

back to me

pairing - bucky barnes x !hydra experiment! reader

sypnosis - the void isn't a very easy thing to pry yourself from.

warning(s) - spoilers for thunderbolts*, mature themes, foul language, canon marvel violence, mention of human experimentation, trauma, reader is lowkey bucky but in a diff font

author note - the only specific thing about the reader is that she's an ex hydra experiment who was called 'grim wolf'.

playlist - we hug now : sydney rose fake plastic tears : radiohead take aim : sleep token

also please give me bucky requests, the obsession from 13 is coming back and i need to be normal.

word count - 0.7k

what the hell was this?

one minute you had been following yelena to get bob back, half-listening to bucky and alexei yelling over your shoulder, and the next, you were back in that godawful room.

the one with sterile lights and a low hum that you still heard in your nightmares.

you exhale quietly, walking into the room, ignoring the churning in your gut and the way that your stomach whispered, "i have a bad feeling about this."

the doctors surrounding your body muttered things in russian to one another, some of them looking you over with interest while a select few licked their lips and not-so-secretly palmed at themselves. a grimace contorts your face as you watch - an audience member to your own traumas.

you hesitantly step closer, seeing now the version of you that you had spent so many nights trying to forget; the one who acted on someone else's thoughts, the one who was an uncaged animal, the one who killed without thinking of who it was first.

the one who had almost killed the people that would eventually become family.

teeth sink down into your bottom lip, drawing a thin line of blood that manages to keep you grounded. the first needle goes in, past you screams.

you wince, brows pinching as you watch the younger you thrash and beg - stringing together words that are barely cohearent over the rushed talking of the doctors. you watch as the younger you begs and pleads and cries, but how no one listens.

your heart pounds against your ribcage, thundering beneath your skin and reveberating against the shell of your ears. your hands curl inward, fists turning white from the pressure that you apply to yourself.

"let me go, please!" younger you begs, voice cracking and body trembling as realization begins to sink in. the doctors don't listen, and as the second needle goes in, you turn away.

-- --

it's not until later that night that bucky notices someting off about you; your shoulders are slumped, your voice sounds tired, and your eyes aren't entirely focused on any one thing in particular.

you weren't really there ... for lack of a better way to put it.

only after the others went to bed did bucky approach you, catching you in the kitchen with a shot of whiskey in front of you. you hadn't drank since the final battle against thanos.

he watches you for a minute, just taking you in. the slump to your body, the unshed tears in your eyes, the pain and hurt that radiated off of you.

"you're staring," you say, placing down your glass with a clink. bucky chuckles, entering the kitchen and sitting down at the kitchen island beside you. "hi."

"hey, doll," bucky responds, taking the glass as you offer it to him and taking a sip from it. you smile softly at him, taking the glass back and placing it down. "you okay?"

"fine." you don't mean to sound as harsh as you do, but being asked if you were okay was honestly the last thing that you wanted. but you didn't know what okay meant, you never did, and you honestly never would.

bucky pauses, tilting his head at you and exhaling softly. one hand cradles your face, tilting it upward so that softened blue could meet (e/c). his eyes roam over your face, taking in everything down to the crease between your eyebrows.

"doll -"

"bucky."

he stops again, glancing at you ... no, looking at you.

the tears in your eyes, the part of your lips, the wrinkle to your forehead, the slight quiver to your chin. you were breaking at the seams, now he could see that.

so he does something about it.

one warm arm and one cool one wraps around you, pulling you forward slightly so that he could properly hold you. you don't protest, sliding into his arms and pressing your forehead against his shoulder. vibranium rubs comfortingly against your back, bucky's cheek coming to rest on the side of your head.

"i've got you."

you close your eyes, whimpering silently but letting yourself be held. bucky doesn't say anything, doesn't try to reassure you with words that wouldn't do anything. he holds you, cradles you.

and maybe you wouldn't ever know what it meant to be okay. but right now, in his arms ...

... you did feel okay.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

the song lives on

Summary: Aha'ri Lives AU!

Dedication to: @inolaphoenix for coming up with the idea and brainstorming with me!

Word Count: 1.9k+

Pairing: None (mainly focused on the Sarentu siblings)

Warnings: gn!reader, angst, PTSD, violence, children of neglect/abuse, mentions of brainwashing and residential school trauma, open-ended ending with the intent of writing more 😉

Taglist: @mooniequeen @anemonelovesfiction @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @daisyyvoid

A/N: Happy Birthday, Inola 💙🥰

~~~~~~~~~

You hardly recognized your sister.

Aha'ri, so brave and fierce, whittled down into a small, scared child, just like you, only this time... it left her physically scarred.

Mercer's shot had left the young Na'vi girl in and out of consciousness, the medics barely able to keep her stable. It was bad enough the TAP personnel didn't appear to care about the children's needs, but their welfare? It was hardly even on the list. No one in the med bay was prepared to treat a Na'vi child with a bullet wound in her back. Sure, they had the means to treat a human, no problem, but a Na'vi? Who's body didn't react to the same medicine and treatment a human's would? You would think, that if TAP were going to house Na'vi children as Alma was teaching, they would be better prepared for it.  

There will be a time when, once you get older, you will come to accept that no one in TAP ever cared enough to learn or do better. But for now, you're scared, innocent, and confused. Why was no one bandaging Aha'ri right away? Why are they poking and prodding at her wound and wondering out loud about how a bullet affects the Na'vi body?

You hardly slept. Barely anyone did. Ri'nela managed to get Teylan to shut his eyes for a few hours, but the occasional twitch in his tail told everyone he never truly slept.

Aha'ri was in and out of surgeries for a week before she finally turned a corner. Alma informed you and the other children of this with a quiet voice, explaining that Aha'ri would have a scar, but she would live.

Alma's version of "living" was breathing and moving around. But to a Na'vi, the way Aha'ri looked when she returned to school, that wasn't living. From then on, she was simply surviving. 

She was a shell, her eyes almost always bearing a one-thousand-yard stare, empty of any warm emotions. She didn't sing or hum, and never mentioned your mother when you tried to prompt her in an attempt to see a small spark of life in her once more. Nothing. 

The scar was on her back. A round, small bullet-shaped wound that made her wince every time she moved her left arm while it was still healing. If any personnel dropped the temperature of the children's room, she would whine and softly cry to herself from how badly the muscles in her back and arm would spasm and ache. Now, whenever she sees someone with a gun, even if it were strapped to their hip, Aha'ri would flinch and curl in on herself.

Mercer had made his warning loud and clear. Next time, she would not be so lucky.

It took months for her to fully heal physically, but once she did... something subtly shifted in her eyes. A small, tiny spark of warmth returned, and you hardly had time to feel relieved to have a small part of your sister back, let alone question it. You were so relieved, in fact, you missed the small bit of determination that returned to Aha'ri's spirit. 

Neither you nor Teylan was prepared for the abrupt wakening in the middle of the night, months after Mercer had shot Aha'ri. 

"Come," Aha'ri spoke softly, even gracing you with a small, familiar smile, "We're leaving."

"What...?" You questioned while rubbing your eyes, your brain not entirely caught up with your surroundings.

"B-B-But we can't!" Teylan whimpers from his bed, where Ri'nela quietly soothes him. "I-I-If... if the same thing happens again-!"

"It won't," Ri'nela shushes with an encouraging smile, "There is another way out of here, Teylan."

"It is time to go home," Nor spoke sternly, more confident than ever. His own personality had shifted since Aha'ri's injury.

The three older Na'vi children led you and Teylan up into the TAP facility's vents, hands gripping pillowcases full of carefully collected supplies from the months they had spent planning a more thorough escape. Ri'nela had expressed patience over the months while Nor was anxious for Aha'ri to heal so they could get a move on. Ri'nela would take a little bit of food here and there during meal times, stowing that and any little bit of supplies up in the vent above her bed to preserve until the moment was right. If any human at the facility noticed they were missing a small bandage here and a compass there, they always chalked it up to misplacement, none the wiser.

Nor managed to distract his eagerness by keeping a close watch on the guards, something that Harding had unintentionally taught him between lessons where she'd force him to hold a gun. Timing their patrols and shifts, Nor eventually saw a small window of time when hardly anyone would be walking by the children's rooms at night, a small flaw that Harding would be furious to whoever designed the patrol schedule, which made Nor internally smug. He made sure the same window of time happened for a full week before sharing this small information with Ri'nela and Aha'ri, vowing to himself to be more thorough so the last escape attempt wouldn't repeat itself.  

As for Aha'ri, she dutifully played her role to perfection. Yes, her traumatic experience and her injury had changed her, but she exaggerated it a little more than she had originally felt. Sure, she would spend years later flinching at the sound of a gunshot, but her will to survive overpowered any fear she had gained after Mercer had shot her. She wanted him to believe he had won, so she kept her head down, her eyes drifting off to stare at the walls as if no one else was in the room. She had let Mercer believe he had broken her, despite his appalling actions further strengthening her.

The vents were large enough for the children to walk through, only having to bow their heads slightly to fit. There were some tight spots where they would have to carefully and quietly crouch down and crawl, hardly breathing if they passed over a vent and noticed humans walking beneath them. Otherwise, part of their natural Na'vi instincts kicked in, their tails keeping them balanced while their feet kept them quiet, sharp ears twitching at any unknown sound.

Finally, Nor stopped and held out a hand to the rest who traveled behind him, his voice barely above a whisper, "Teylan."

The youngest Na'vi child slowly crawled over to the other boy's side, peering down through a vent to follow Nor's gaze. Beneath them was a hallway, and attached to a wall was a control panel that was obviously meant for the double doors beside it. Upon observing the doors, Teylan recognized it to be the entrance to the mess hall.

"The next patrol meant to pass our rooms will come from there," Nor explained quietly, "Can you lock the doors to buy us some more time?"

Teylan lowered his ears, and his big eyes widened with fear. "I can't do that! We'll be caught!"

"Shh!" Nor hissed, small fangs bared, "We'll be caught if you do not keep your voice down. Can. You. Do. It."

"Y-Yes, I can do it, but not from up here."

"If you went down?"

"I-I-I-I can't go down there... they'll see me."

"I have watched these boring Sky People walk these exact same hallways for days. I promise they will not even be around to see you," Nor snarled, beginning to grow impatient, "Not unless you continue to delay."

"I will go with you, Teylan," Aha'ri's hand gently settles on Teylan's shoulders.

Nor's ears stick straight up in alarm, and his eyes fix on Aha'ri, crouched behind Teylan. "No. I will go with him. Keep a watch on us from above."

The boys cautiously, so very gingerly, remove the vent cover and pass it over to the girls before quietly jumping down, their feet meeting the cold floor of the hallway. Their ears move wildly in search of any sound in either direction as they sneak over to the control panel. Once at the screen, Teylan is quick at work, starting to relax once in his element, efficiently locking the doors to the mess hall before slinking back around until the open vent is just above his head. Nor is close behind him and helps lift Teylan back up into the vent before closely following suit with one big leap and Ri'nela swiftly closes the vent once more.

With one more obstacle out of the way, the kids begin to get a little eager, the taste of freedom just at the tip of their tongues. Pressing forward through the vents with less quiet steps, the Sarentu children can feel their hearts racing in their chests and hear them pounding in their ears. Even after buying themselves a little bit of time, they didn't want to take any chances in case Mercer got the drop on them once more.

There's a large, sealed-tight door within the vents, separating the oxygen within the facility from the carbon dioxide and other lethal elements in the outside world the children were told about in Alma's lessons. Teylan makes quick work of this door as well, and by this point, Nor shouts at everyone to break into a run in this final leg of their race. The exit, a large vent that leads out into the world of Pandora, is close at hand and looms over all of their heads. Once right at the foot of it, Nor eagerly takes a screwdriver out from Ri'nela's pillowcase and begins to unscrew all the corners of the large vent.

Aha'ri's grip on your hand momentarily slips. As she whips her head back around in a panic, she finds herself staring at wide, tear-filled eyes. You tug and pull on her hand desperately, stepping back down the way you came, "Wait! We forgot sa'nu's songcord!"

Your older sister relents for a moment, the horrible reminder that Mercer kept your mother's songcord as a trophy around his wrist still hung heavily in her heart. With as much sorrow as she could afford, she gently grasped both of your little shoulders in her hands, making you look her dead in the eyes, "We can not go back for it. We have to go."

"But we will forget her--"

"No, never," she said firmly, and with a determination you had not seen in her eyes in a very long time, "We never will forget, so long as we have the song she sang to us. We may not remember the words, but we can still sing the songs of our people."

"I got it!" Nor happily exclaims, disbelief in his words as the vent comes free and falls outside, the clatter it makes drowned out by the rush of noises that fills the children's ears. 

Bright light surrounds all of you, forcing you to put your hands in front of your eyes before they can adjust. Blinking, you lower your hand and you're met with a vast, enormous jungle, heavily encompassed in vegetation and wildlife. The colors... nothing like you have ever seen before, taking your breath away and distracting you even as Aha'ri takes hold of your hand once more. You finally tear your gaze away from what awaits you, meeting your sister's eyes as she smiles softly.

"Come. Our home is waiting for us."

Whatever you find in her gaze brings a newly found bravery in your chest. You take a deep breath and firmly nod with a small pout on your little face. Together, and with your friends, you and Aha'ri jump out of the vent and sprint as quickly as possible into the world of Pandora, the leaves and branches of the trees stretching out when the wind picks up as if the Great Mother was opening her arms out to you in relief that you are home once more.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Main Masterlist Here! If Inola and I brainstorm more on the potential of this story I may write more, so keep an eye out for that! Thank you for reading, and thank you Inola for always being a caring and supportive mutual. I'm so thankful that we've become friends 🥰 Happy Birthday!

[cosmicbrownskin]

"well that was unexpected."

pairings : hybrid!seungmin x fem!reader

genre : pure fluff, maybe a lil bit of angst..? (if you squint.)

warnings : n/a

a/n : okay so i got my idea from one of my AMAZING LONG TIME mutuals @doliveiraa, go read her hyunjin version <33. this is my first fic coming from a year-long hiatus, so please bare with me!! also im thinking of making alot of my fics (or maybe account...) for poc girlies..should i? (im putting up a poll for soon ^^)

word count : 1.4k

read time: 5 mins

i was so nervous, and not really knowing what to expect. after my dog Lulu passed away, i couldn't find myself to find love in another dog—not after her passing. it just hurt too much.

but my friend had (somehow) talked to me about hybrids.

yes, hybrids, the animals that can also be humans.

"im telling you y/n, it's not bad! plus, when they get comfortable they turn into their human form and then it's like having a roommate and bestfriend—can you try it please..?" your friend pleaded; they had seen me horrifcally depressed after Lulu's passing, it hurt them too.

"y/f/n, i don't know, what if something goes wrong? what if none of them like me?"

"no. no more overthinking shit. they're gonna love you, just like how you loved Lulu, i pinky promise on it." they interjected; they noticed how after your pet's passing you started overthinking more; unhealthily overthinking.

so here i now found myself at the shelter, following an employee back to the hybrids area.

and i was shitting bricks, even though my friend told me not to be anxious—that was out the window now.

but there were so many hybrid animals; puppies, birds, snakes, ferrets, cats, turtles, just complete overload.

"i'll leave you to it, and you can look around." the employee said, smile on her face before turning and walking away.

and when she left, most of the animals made their way up to the glass, making their own noises, grabbing your attention.

i looked at the birds, and all their beautiful colors and patterns—then next to cats, which were all so different and unique. but i made your way to the puppies, a quiet sadness filling your mind, pushing the feeling away, you bent down, and a golden retriever puppy curled up in its cage catches my eyes.

'the animal caught a whiff of my scent, so that's why it came to gently pad over to my finger that was inside of cage.' i thought.

the puppy sniffed my finger, and hesitantly looked at it—but eventually rubbed its face against it.

and i melted.

the fur was so soft, the small paws grasping at my finger, the big, dark brown doe eyes that looked at me; it was instant connection.

"that's seungmin. he's a golden retriever." the employee explained, looking at the puppy who didn't really come out his shell much.

"he's perfect. i'll take him." i said.

ᥫ᭡

i released seungmin from the soft, fluffy carrier i purchased, setting him down on my apartment floor.

he was in fact, a curious puppy who sniffed literally anything. making his way to my small sized couch, digging his way into my cushions and pillows. he was happy, tongue out and tail wagging, just the perfect puppy.

i placed down his bed, putting toys and stuffies in it to make comfortable, along with his food and water bowls.

seungmin immediately went over to it, eating and drinking,

“gosh, did you not eat or drink at the shelter min?” i joked, seeing just how much he was enjoying his new home.

ᥫ᭡

over the days, me and seungmin fell into place, and our relationship grew. he was such a good and obedient puppy, and he made mistakes sometimes, like now.

he had knocked over his water bowl, causing a puddle of water to form, and when i noticed, he padded into a corner—an ashamed noise coming from him.

“min, it’s okay. i’m not mad, it was only an accident.” i say, cleaning the water, hoping to coax him to come back.

and yes it did take some convincing with treats—but it was worth the sight of his tail wagging again.

“see? it’s all cleaned up and you have nothing to worry about. let’s go to my room and we can watch something together, or you can just play around in my sheets—i don’t care.” i said, picking the puppy up into my arms, and walking to my bedroom.

as i snuggled into my pillows, making space for seungmin in my arms, which he didn’t notice due to him ruffling around in my sheets.

“min, are you gonna watch or…just do whatever you’re doing?” i asked, but of course with his adrenaline and excitement of a new place to be exploring, he didn’t stop.

“okay then, i’ll leave you to it doggo.” i said.

but eventually as my movie ended, the poor thing ran out of energy and was sleeping.

“looks like someone ran out of excitement.” i laughed.

he was supposed to sleep in the beautifully made dog bed i made for him, but i let it slide—he was just too cute to move.

and now my eyes were closing. exhaustion caught up to my body, and soon enough i drifted off to sleep, cuddling my puppy.

just a girl and her hybrid puppy.

ᥫ᭡

the next week, i had been getting for a friends party, accompanied by seungmin at my feet.

“okay min, what do we think? is the makeup good?” i ask, obviously knowing he can’t reply.

but he barked.

“i’ll take that as a yes.” i giggled, utterly transfixed on the question in my head,

‘how can a hybrid dog be so cute?’

making my way to the front door of my apartment, i bent down to his level, speaking gently but still firm.

“now, minnie, i won’t be long extremely long. probably 2 hours—3 tops. okay?” i explained.

seungmin then sat down, and once again, i took it as a yes.

“bye! i love you.” i said, closing the door behind me.

ᥫ᭡

but when i came home, it wasn’t pretty at all. i was crying, my hands shaking.

seungmin immediately noticed it, stood on his hind legs, paws on my knees.

“min, i just don’t know why she would even do something like that!” i cried out.

and that’s when seungmin trotted away, into my room, leaving me in my kitchen crying and alone.

‘did this puppy really just leave me in a time of my distress…’ i thought to myself.

but i was easily mistaken, when instead of a cute, light brown, golden retriever puppy coming back—it was an asian, tall, fit, man.

‘that’s MY seungmin?!’ i thought to myself.

my eyes widened and i wiped my tears.

“you’re my seungmin? like my cute, small, golden retriever puppy??” i asked, completely dumbfounded.

“yes i am. sorry, i just had to transform—you were distressed and crying—and i just got triggered.” he explained.

"well that was unexpected." i said, eyes wide.

his attire was quite the look; dressed in a light blue baby tee that was too small for him and a pair of my oversized sweatpants that were still too short for his long legs.

“are you okay? why were you crying?” seungmin asked worriedly.

a small giggle left my lips, my eyes trailing up and down his outfit.

“you look very interesting…i must say—it’s quite the fashion choice.” i managed to get out, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“well forgive me for wanting to make sure you're okay!” he said, crossing his arms revealing his belly button.

but even when he was dressed like this, i couldn’t help but see just how attractive his was. his short brown hair, pale skin, and fit appearance? god took his time with that man.

"seriously y/n, what's wrong? why were you crying..?" he asked, serious this time.

i sighed, the memory of the party stuck in my head.

"well, one of my bestfriend's 'friends', humiliated me. she told the others lies about me, so i was alone until i just left early." i explained.

it hurt alot. i went there to celebrate my bestfriend's birthday and was avoided like the fucking plague.

"im sorry y/n. do you want a hug?" seungmin offered.

"thanks min." i murmured, wrapping my arms around his ribcage area.

his hug was so comforting. he smelled like warmth and roses, and nothing felt better than this in the moment.

"do want me to take you to the stores to get you clothes that actually fit..?" i say, a smile on my face as i look at his outfit once more.

"please and thank you. i don't know how you would even wear this." seungmin said, gesturing to the baby tee.

"okay we can go, just let me change into something more comfortable."

ᥫ᭡

life with seungmin as a human was smooth, even if sometimes he ate all my food. and as a puppy, perfect, and that was my life, absolutely perfect. a girl with her hybrid puppy. and it was my best decisions ever.

cosmicbrownskin ᥫ᭡ ― est. november 2023 © do not copy or repost my content on other platforms

[agirlnamedstar]

Guys Guys GUYSSS I have oh, Oh so many Thoughts right now.

Imagine:

Kiss the Girl scene with MC and TWST’s version of Ariel.

Rielle (his fan-given name) goes to Azul, saying he wants to become a human forever to stay with a human he’s fallen in love with!!

And who’s Azul to deny him?

He quickly finds out that the human he’s fallen for is NRA’s one and only magicless hero.

You!!

And, of course, Azuls not one to make a contract without getting something in return.

Especially when Rielle’s into the human he’s got a teeny tiny HUGEEEE crush on.

Soo, he makes him a deal.

If he can kiss MC within 3 days by sundown, he becomes human forever, and gets to keep his voice.

And if he can’t?

Azul keeps his voice, and him, forever.

Rielle makes the deal without thinking, throwing a scale he ripped off into the pot, allowing Azul to take his voice.

Azul sends him away after the transaction is complete, handing a shell-shaped locket to Jade and Floyd, who were giggling, knowing how this would go.

After hearing the very stupid deal Rielle made, his friends quickly came up with a plan.

You two would have a romantic boat ride, and kiss there!!

It was full proof-it HAD to be!

After all, nearly two days have already passed. They have no choice now.

What none of them accounted for was you-unintentionally-knowing everything.

———————————————————————

“Rielle? Where are ya takin me?” You laughed as he pulled you along, not saying a word to you.

It seems as if he was giving you the silent treatment these past few days, not saying a single word.

It struck you as weird, if you were honest. Rielle was always a chatterbox, constantly talking about things he’d find on the ocean floor and his adventures under water.

However, after talking to his friends, Flounder and Neige, you found out he had a big performance soon and was on vocal rest.

You didn’t believe them at first, as they stuttered nervously throughout their entire explanation. But you knew at least Neige would never lie to you.

Right?

The whole situation reminded you of the original Little Mermaid, with his lost voice and all. He hadn’t even went into the ocean lately, which he tends to do after school.

It all brought a feeling of unease upon you.

Though, you knew Rielle wasn’t in love with anybody, let alone you.

There was no way he made a deal with Azul…right?

Rielle looked back at you, a playful smile on his lips as he brought a finger up, silently shushing you.

You rolled your eyes as you giggled, continuing to let yourself be dragged around by him.

Once you two reached your destination, he pulled back a curtain of long, glowing vines, revealing a small wooden boat.

Your mouth dropped, immediately feeling your stomach start to swarm with butterflies.

Either you were going crazy, or this is playing out exactly as it did in the movie.

The missing voice, the way he’s been weirdly close to you these past two days, not going into the ocean…and now this!?!

You’re going to kick Azuls ass.

Rielle snapped you out of your trance, giving you a worried look.

“Ah, sorry! Don’t worry, I’m fine.” You nervously laughed it off, chewing on your bottom lip.

Rielle got into the boat first, testing the durability of it. Once he felt that it was fine, he reached his hand out to you softly, looking at you with eyes filled with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You blushed as you took his hand, allowing him to yank you into his hard chest.

He held you there for a moment. His other arm around your waist as he held your hand close to his heart.

You didn’t dare look up. You wouldn’t allow yourself to.

You gently pushed yourself away from his chest, clearing your throat.

“So..you took me out here in the middle of the night to take a boat ride, huh?” You smiled, giggling a bit.

He grabbed your hands once again, making you look up at him.

You regretted it almost immediately.

He looked undeniably gorgeous under the soft yellow lights of the fire flies around you. A dark red covered his cheeks, and even his ears! The color rivaled his hair. His mouth was slightly agape as he stared down at you, seemingly speechless.

He nodded quickly, letting go of you and pushing the boat off before you had time to sit, making you fall back.

“Damn, a warning would’ve been nice..” you said lightheartedly, rubbing your sore back as you looked down at the water.

Your eyes widened as you looked down, swearing you saw a green tail quickly swim past…

You felt Rielle grab your hands with his own, clearly looking apologetic.

“I’m fine, don’t worry!! I was joshin, don’t sweat it Rielle..” you reassured, feeling something bump the boat.

‘Shit…that’s gotta be Jade and Floyd!!’ you thought, biting your bottom lip again.

You looked at Rielle, seeing how his gaze was fixated on your lips. Your face flushed, suddenly feeling hot as you shuffled in your spot.

“Rielle, listen…” you trailed off, watching him snap up and meet your eyes.

“I know what’s happening to you. I know you’re cursed, and I know you have to…kiss me..to break it. I know everything, Rielle.”

You felt another bump under the boat, this one more aggressive than the last.

Rielle looked upset, distraught, concerned..he gripped your hands tighter as his mouth moved, but no sounds came out.

“It’s okay!!! It’s okay. I’m gonna get your voice back, don’t worry Rielle. But first…”

You practically ripped your hands away from his, standing on the boat as you struggled to find your balance.

“I’ve gotta grab something.”

You eyed one of the green, slippery tails that has been bumping into the boat, before grabbing onto it with a tight, firm grip, yanking up one of the tweels onto the boat.

“Shrimpy?” “Floyd! What the fuck?!”

“If you don’t go and get my friends voice back right now, so help me god I will-“

“Calmmmm dooooown Shrimpy! If you want this little mermaids-well, used to be little mermaids-voice back, you’re gonna have to kiss him!! Ooorrrrr, go hunt down Azul.”

“And we are not going to let that first option happen.” Jade chimed in, leaning against the boat now.

“Okay, first of all, I’m gonna hunt down Azul either way. I thought he was better than this but apparently he’s not-and YOU TWO aren’t either.”

“And you!” You turned to Rielle, “you sacrificed your mermaid powers for me?? WHY?! You can turn into a human anyways! There was no need to sacrifice that for me! I’m not worth sacrificing shit like THAT for! Let alone anything!!” You stressed, tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, turning back to Jade and Floyd.

“Take me to Azul. Now. I’m gonna have a little..talk with his octopus ass.”

“Rielle, go back to RSA. I’ll come for you in the morning and let you know what happened, okay? Stay safe. Don’t make anymore stupid deals.” You leaned down to his height, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before getting yanked away by Floyd.

“Awwww come onnnn Shrimpy!~ Do we get kisses nowwww?” Floyd whined, squeezing you tightly.

“No, you guys aren’t getting anything from me until Rielle gets his voice back. Now let’s go.” You spoke sternly, wiggling yourself out of his slimy embrace.

“Of course, come on, let’s head back to NRA.” Jade chimed in, turning back into his human form as Floyd did the same, knowing you couldn’t breathe under water like they can.

You gave one last look at Rielle, a look full of determination, before walking off with the twins, sighing as Floyd began to talk your ear off.

———————————————————————

Part two Mayhaps?

This scenario has been playing in my mind since the live action Little Mermaid came out btw, I just hadn’t decided to write it out until nowwwww!!

I doooo have a pretty sick idea for a part two where MC (aka YOUUUU) gets Rielles voice back, but I’d love to know if you guys would like a part two just in case!

Byeeeeee guyssss >:0)

[gizmocreates]

canto 8 belooww just in case (also it’s a long post so)

You know it really is kind of funny how this canto had a running theme of assumptions vs reality

jia qiu being one of the most based characters in pjm canon when he was assumed to be vengeful and seeking revenge

xue pan being a broken, originally pacifistic boy who was melded into the man he is now by his family constantly attempting to alter him to be ‘more tame’

jia mu being impressed upon us as a gentle, understanding woman, only to find out how horrible she is as soon as Hong Lu’s past is put out into the open

jia huan not even being the original jia huan, but rather being his older relative

lin daiyu coming off as cold, but having a still-soft and kind heart with a expression that’s quick to break into wide-eyed shock, joy and sorrow

Jia xichun constantly saying rude things that she doesn’t really mean, with her true thoughts only able to be translated by wei

xue baochai coming off as suspicious only to be proven wrong time and time again— learning that she’s always been genuine, and really did care for hong lu

hell it even fits with the development outis has gotten over the past canto and nocsweep, with her horrible first impression biting her in the ass and her subsequently gaining more legitimate trust and comradery within the group.

and of course it fits with hong lu. Who was a kind, broken man, surrounded by layers upon layers of empty smiles and platitudes. Who inspired so many feelings in others, but could not be allowed to feel them himself. Who inspired a thousand assumptions and impressions as a beautiful, blood-soaked jade, but was always denied the reality of his humanity.

even metatextually, I remember for a long time people assumed that hong lu’s persona was belying a horrible monster— that he was going to turn out to be awful, unforgivable, that beneath that hollow shell of happy lies would be a hateful, venomous man. And how wrong that impression was. How wrong too, was the assumption that he simply was Like That and that nothing stirred under the surface of the water. Under every single layer of jade, every wall he put up, at the bottom of that endless well of tears, buried so deeply that many versions of himself never once see it surface once again… is one of the kindest, most sorrowful, most wrathful humans in the City. A river who wished to embrace every person he could in his gentle flow. A sad boy whose one, selfish wish was to see his sister smile again.

[stwinsgstdrop]

Chapter 3.

Wide Toothy Grin

Being greeted with a crossbow by his estranged brother as soon as he stepped foot on his porch had not been on Stanley's bingo card, but he guessed that, given his luck and tendency for trouble, he should've expected something of that sort. They'd never been the most conventional people, after all.

What he could not have accounted for despite his many, many experiences with bad luck, monsters, weird stuff and his line of work, was Ford's apparent pet project of getting himself entangled with mystical forces of the beyond and being manipulated into building a fucking portal to bridge the gap that protected humanity from such entities.

Now, Stanley wasn’t one to judge. Once he willingly let himself be enchanted by a siren to win a bet over a coworker. Best 20 bucks ever gotten, despite the bite and scratch scars. And he did get the directions they needed, so fuck you, Cory. Anyways, the point is. He usually could aknowledge that in regards to morals and stupid decisions, he had absolutely no leg to stand on.

But this was beyond his stupid bad decisions.

This made his escapades with sirens and secret meddling with the fae and dark folk seem child's play. And apparently his darling twin hadn’t even known what he was getting into.

Fucking hell.

Ford was supposed to be the better version of him; to be living the dream, in his fancy house in the woods, cataloguing weird stuff in the weird city. Not getting entangled with fucking eldritch dudes. That was very much a Stanley coded decision, not a Stanford.

For once, Stanley had the metaphorical higher ground.

And it did not feel good.

So he lashed out. That was his thing, after all. Push all that fear, worry, hope and useless sentimentality WAY down and pull out the anger. Anger was useful.

"How could you do something THIS stupid?!" He yelled, barely containing his rage. "You're supposed to be the smart one, Stanford! And now what? You think hiding this book away's gonna do ANYTHING? You haf'ta be fucking kidding me!"

That was the least unking of the things he'd said, his mouth spewing venom he didn't even known he had in him. He couldn't believe his brother.

He also couldn't believe himself. What, had he really expected reconciliation? For fuck's sake, hadn’t he had that hope beaten outta him already? Multiple times, even? He'd given up! Made himself a life! He'd made, if not friends, at least allies! He'd been safe!

But no, he just HAD to put it all in jeopardy because his twin sent him a postcard with two words. Two fucking words, no explanation. In big bold scratchy letters that looked nothin' like Sixer's pretty cursive. And the worst part was, get this: it was a good thing that he actually did come! Because clearly his fucking lunatic of a brother would've broken the goddamn universe!

He was ready to set fire to the god forsaken journal and slap his brother out of whatever drugs he was on, but then...

Then, Stanford cried.

"I don't KNOW!" Ford screamed back, eyes glistening with tears, red from his manic haze and terror. "I don't KNOW! I didn't know! I didn't, I swear!"

And Goddammit, if Stanley' reflex response wasn’t still intact. In a single second he was there, holding his brother as he sobbed. All of his anger, betrayal and disappointment washed away like shells in the sand. He was numb, staring as his brother unravelled in a way Stanley had never seen before.

"I thought he was my friend- I swear, I didn’t mean-" Ford's knees buckled, and Stanley held him, softening the fall. It wasn’t as if Stan had never seen his brother cry. Quite the contrary. Ford had been the biggest crybaby ever, getting emotional over the smallest of things. But this... this was different. Raw, bleeding, actual desperation and terror. "He tricked me, Stanley. He told me he was a muse, and I- I never- It was supernatural! We've always wanted to see this sort of thing, that was my passion! He promised to help, and I- I couldn’t-"

Stanford sobbed, interrupting his own line of thought.

"Hey pal, uh. It's okay. It's okay, don't- Don't cry, please. It's okay." Stan said, awkwardly trying comfort his twin.

Ford grasped at Stanley's jacket, pulling him close and burying his face in it as he sobbed. Stanley could barely make out what he was saying between the cries and muffled words.

"'m sorry I never- You were- t-there, and I- I didn't-" He wailed into Stanley, who could only hold him and hope this would pass soon. "Please don't leave again. Please, please, I don't have anyone anymore. Please."

Ford unplugged his face from Stan's chest only to keep pleading, but now with added eye contact. His eyes were red as red as a junkie's, maybe worse.

"Okay, I won't, it's okay!" Promised Stanley, pushing his brother to a better dignified position. "You're okay, Sixer. 'M here, okay? You're fine."

But instead of calming down, it only made Ford burst into tears again. Stanley groaned and pushed him back into his chest, hushing Ford like their mother used to do to him after Pa- after a hard day.

It wasn’t easy a task to alternate between coaxing and dragging to get Ford out of the god forsaken lab. Ford stumbled, at first, swaying even with Stanley's aid, head lolling like it wasn’t properly attached. It was the longest elevator ride of Stanley's life.

And, because they couldn't have progress without doubling the challenge, Ford slumped and heaved as soon as the doors opened. Stanley was at his side in a heartbeat, keeping his brother from faceplanting into his own disgusting fluids. It was just bile and brown liquid.

"Damn Ford, when was the last time you ate somethin?" He asked, hauling his brother up again. Ford groaned, but it sounded so unmanly Stan decided it was a whimper.

"Had... C-coffee..." Said Ford. Better yet, exhaled. Like when someone punches you in the gut but you gotta have the last word before falling over.

Stan huffed a laugh and shook his head in disaproval. It took a few minutes, but eventually Stanford managed the difficult task of pointing at what door was his room, and they made their way there.

To the surprise of absolute 0 people but disappointment of one exasperated Stanley, Ford had nothing that was both clean and weather apropriate to wear. Stanley himself had lived in simmilar conditions, but for fuck's sake, he'd SEEN Ford's washing machine. This man was simply not functional.

"Damn Ford, your clothes are all disgusting. Do you EVER wash 'em?" Stan asked, skimming to find something at least wearable. Some clothes were torn, others smelly enough that even Stanley knew better than to touch. Some, however, were bloody.

Stanley eyes his brother, whose eyes were unfocused and teary, still sniffling from time to time.

He sighed. His duffel bag it was, then. Stan walked towards the stairs that he was fairly sure would get him to the front door and his car, but was stopped before even leaving the room by Stanford's strangled cry and a thud. Turning around, he was greeted by the sight of his genius twin faceplanted on the ground, six fingered hand grasping weakly at Stan's pants.

"Wh... Where'r you..." He slurred. Stan stared, eyes fixated on Stanford's slumped form. "...said you- said you'dn't... leave..."

It was funny.

Ford looked like a dumb schmuck who drank himself to oblivion, but Stan couldn't bring himself to say it. To tease, or play, or make light of it.

It was very funny, in an ironic sorta way.

Stan had always imagined how things would've gone had Ford intervened that summer night. Had dreamed of hearing the words 'don't leave' coming from someone who wasn’t a damn officer or loan shark. Coming from Ford.

He had half a mind to just. Get back to his car and leave. Report the incident to his superiors, explain the situation. With a case like this, Stanley's infraction could easily be forgotten or at least pushed back until it was solved. He could even squeeze in a reward.

What, it's not like he owed Ford this. NOW, he asks Stan to stay? Really? How convenient.

He should do this. It'd be easy. Leave Ford to whatever this was and find his way back to HQ. It was a solid plan.

The decision was made. Stanley knelt down and held Ford's hand, untangling it from the edge of his pants. Ford let go and held Stan's hand instead, lacing their fingers together. Ford's hand was cold, and his eyes fixed on Stan's.

"You're... warm." Ford said, thumb circling Stan's knuckles. "Missed... missed ya', Lee."

.

..

...

Gently and slowly, Ford was lifted back to a sitting position and leaned against the wall.

"'M gonna be right back. Gotta get ya somethin' decent to wear. Alright?"

Ford blinked his eyes in motion of a nod. Stanley smiled and stood back up. 'S not like he was serious anyways. He wasn't a total douche, after all. His brother needed help, so he'd help.

On his way to the car, he stopped to notice how filthy and cold the cabin was. There were papers everywhere, absolutely no usable silverware or cutlery. The air was almost as cold as it was outside, and there were splatters of blood hidden in the corners.

He found a tooth near the kitchen cabinets and stopped to inspect. Were they growing here? They weren't supposed to grow in this part of the country, not without something atracting them. He didn’t have enough salt to deal with that right now, but he checked anyways.

Nope. Empty of teeth. And of food. Just his luck. At least it wasn’t a teeth growth case. Last time's consequence had been... horrible. His cheeks and gums still ached from time to time.

Fortunately, Stan had a few canned goods supplied in his car. He pocketed what he now supposed was Ford's tooth and made his way outside. The blizzard was still going strong, the wind ruffling wetly through his hair and face. Stan hated the cold.

The generator was turned off, of course, so Stanley first dealt with that. He had a few helpful tools to make the thing cooperate, and only one required his blood to work.

That done, he picked his bag from the back of the car and chose the canned ingredients for an improvised stew. He hoped Ford wasn't keeping kosher, because Stan only had pork on him.

Placating the panicked Sixer who had started hyperventilating again in his absence was an added extra step before coaxing him into taking a shower. He picked something warm and soft for Ford. God only knows how long he'd spent in those clothes, because Stanley had to peel them from him.

While Ford tried to avoid dissolving in the water, Stan got to work.

He started cleaning the kitchen so he at least has space to make something for the both of them. Turned on the thermostat, and, just to be sure, checked under the couch for possible teeth growth. Luck was in his favor, for once.

Stew was an obvious choice, since it was simple. Chop up his canned goods, add water, salt, eat. It wasn’t going to be fancy, and maybe not even tasty, but it was better than 3 days of straight up coffee (or another blood sacrifice). He set everything on the pot and let it boil.

In the meanwhile, he checked on that journal again. Ford had mentioned others 2, so he supposed not all of his brother's ails could be explained in this one, but having a look wouldn’t hurt. What he found was a detailed description of differing level case threats and a few harmless ones. His glasses were in the car and he wasn’t about to face the weather again, so he had to content himself with just skimming and hoping to find bigger illustrations. He snorted when he realized his brother's handwriting hadn’t changed at all.

His musings were interrupted when an ungodly amount of steam was released from the bathroom, following Ford's steps towards the kitchen. Stanley put away the journal and started serving the stew.

Ford looked no less mopey, but he did look aware. Their conversation didn't add anything of importance from what he'd already been told except for the information that the entity tormenting his twin was called Bill. Fucking William. How many Williams was he supposed to go against in a single lifespan, for fuck's sake? And he could possess Ford's body at any time.

Well. Only when Ford slept. That explained the coffee.

Luck striked again, as Stanley had just the perfect solution for that. He'd have to remember to use some salt to exorcise himself though, because with a life like his, being lucky twice on a day is totally a huge red flag.

Ford almost got too nervous, but Stanley managed to get him just calm enough to let his buddy babysit the back of his mind. Ford was technically not breaking any contract, since this was a cathegory C involuntary possession. William, the interdimensional loan shark, would not be able to apply punishment to this development.

And with someone already possessing Ford, Dream Loan Shark wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Specially because dream eaters had the irritating – but highly useful, in this situation – habit of scrambling their host's mind on the surface. Nothing too major either. If someone like Stanley could survive it without major consequence to his brain, someone with a powerful mind like Ford would probably do good. Hell, maybe even come back better!

"What the hell did you just do?" Rasped Ford, in a sad attempt to yell. He swayed, and Stan was there to balance him in an instant.

"Woah, there, Six. 'S alright, they're just feeding on your tiredness." Stan said, examining Ford's overall demeanor. He couldn't place if the spook was caused by the ritual or the usual dread that settles after one.

"Who are 'They', Stanley? What did you DO?!" Ford actually managed to yell this time, eyes wide and  haunted.

It was quite simple, really. But he couldn’t expect Ford to put it all together in his state. Before anything,  Stan had to put him to sleep and then work on the next steps. Sleep eaters were harmless once you got them to like you, and Ford wouldn’t be getting any likeable without some good ol' sleep, so Stan did the right thing and put his brother to rest on the couch, tucking him like a little petulant child.

Ford took a while to stop whining over Stan's little ritual, but eventually got the jist of it. Stan did remember how Ford liked to be tucked in - all encapsulated by warmth, with no passage of cold air inside the covers, like a little chrysalis. Once you got 'im there he didn’t stand a chance.

Stan watched his twin sleep for a few minutes.

This had been fun, despite the lingering otherworldly threat. Now, to the next problem. What to do next?

Tags: @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @aweebshitdrawings @thenoellebird @thehessianslady @multyfangirl16 @clueless-rarito

--------------------------

<Prev; Chp. 3; Next.>

[smileposting]

can you please tell us more about thespius and click clack’s weird little officecore baby. i’m obsessed with him

of course! feel free to enjoy this more finalized version of his design while you read some Assorted Fun Facts about him/related HCs of mine under the cut:

i think i do want to go with him being a he/him butch in the end. sometimes lesbians is just a guy.

works outside the grove as an adult, although he does make sure to visit often. although he's known in hobbyhoo as the most chipper square to ever square (affectionate), by his workplace's standards he's a little freaklet. this is due to A.) his sheer Enthusiasm for an extremely unremarkable office job, B.) the fact that native grovedwellers already have a bit of a Reputation in the outside world as strange and otherworldly, and C.) the fact that he Cannot understand why other people would find his background remarkable in any way.

i don't know what his name is, but i do know it's vaguely derived from the like 4-5 different first names he was given when he was born. i've been using "carter" as a placeholder thanks to @echobsilly, but i do also like "guy" just for how straight to the point it is.

since (getting into hc territory Again here) being a flesh-and-blood human means he can't spend all his time on thespius and click clack's side of reality lest he experience some funky side effects, the people of hobbyhoo had just as much of a hand in his upbringing as his birth parents did. children are Not a very common sight in hobbyhoo, but it Is a lot more relaxed about both non-monogamous relationships and family structures outside of the nuclear model, so most children born there tend to be raised communally.

thespius and click clack spent the first few years of his life a lot Smaller than they normally are, at least whenever he was with them. it was a Much bigger adjustment for click clack than it was for thespius, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to avoid squishing their sweet spawnling like a bug.

when he was real little, he was a painfully shy kid who spent most of his time either figuratively or literally clinging to whoever was watching him at the time. he started coming out of his shell more in his teenage years, around the same time he became more acquainted with the sunrise strip - yknow, beyond it just being a place where click clack's followers live.

speaking of thespius and click clack, i say they're kinda baffled by him, but the more i think about it the more i realize it's a Little more nuanced on both of their ends:

he actually has a lot in common with click clack in terms of skills (don't forget that click clack is also thespius' bookkeeper + head of clicky tower) but when it first became clear that working At clicky tower was not enough to sate his clerical ambitions and that what he Really had his eye on was The Very Area Click Clack Used To Work In Before Arriving To The Grove, Well. they ended up butting heads quite a bit. for context i hc that said area is Also where rick brick works before the events of GGG, so that's a bit of extra salt in the wound. anyways carter thought that click clack just didn't want him to leave the grove, but what click clack was Actually afraid of is that, given carter's jack mcbrayer-esque whimsy, the corporate world They are familiar with would chew him up and spit him out with zero remorse. they don't want that happening to anybody, of course, but Especially not their own kid.

but alas, click clack is merely the editor of this story - not the writer. and sometimes editing looks like educating your child about labor rights/unions before letting him take the reins, even if it means he fucks up the first couple of times.

thespius, meanwhile, has always been a little more optimistic about carter's ability to bounce back + likes that it was apparent that he took a Little more after clicky even back when he was small ("how boring would it be if he was just like me?") BUT one thing he does worry about is his ability to truly relate to carter - he loves his kid obviously and always does his best to make him feel at home, but the reality is they are just on different wavelengths, and thespius Hates the idea that he might be making carter feel more alone because of it. kid's talking about white collar crime to him like that one nisipisa tiktok and thespius is like doing whatever his equivalent of googling shit on your phone during a conversation so you can give the other person a response that isn't "Yeagh" is.

was i inspired by mr milchick from severance when playing around with his design more . It's Possible.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

A New World: part 3

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 Part 2 / Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A/N: To be honest, I’ve no idea how I would react to having my favorite ninja turtle standing in my living room. I would probably think I was crazy and call my psychiatrist for another appointment.

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None so far💙

“What”, was the only thing Leo could say, in utter confusion. Yet it didn’t seem like the girl in the doorway registered that either. Instead she stepped back with one foot, looked at him up and down with a suspicious look and narrow eyes, eyebrows frowning even further than before, if that even was possible. Then she stepped forward again, hesitating for a moment before leaning forwards with her arm stretched, before quickly poking his arm with her pointy finger, and then just as quickly retreating back to where she was standing just a moment ago. Leo, seemingly shocked by the fact that she had poked him, also retreated backwards. He did not know what to think of the situation. Even he, a big green mutant turtle, who had fought ninja clans and aliens, did not know how to react to the human girl's behavior.

“Omg you’re in my house”, (Y/N) breathed out, seemingly still talking to herself. “You’re real and you’re in my house”.

“And you know my name”, Leo said, almost talking to himself too.

“You’re in my house”, (Y/N) said once again, as her shock turned to bewilderment. “Leonardo is in my house”, she repeated once again, as she started to sound confused. “Leonardo is in my house?”, she said to herself, almost as if it was a question, before suddenly snapping back to reality, taking yet another dubbel look at the mutant. Leo found this whole ordeal very strange. When humans meet him they would usually scream and run away, yelling something about monsters. One had even called him the devil and held a cross up in front of him. Yet Leo had never found himself being the scared one in such a situation. Usually he would just be mildly irritated, over how loud they would scream, and how it would make his ears hurt. But at that moment he was scared, in a way he hasn't been in a very long time.

“Why are you in my house?”, she finally asked.

“How do you know my name?”, he asked, matching her expression.

“Ay, you’re in my house, so you answer my questions first”, (Y/N) said, slightly irritated.

“I don’t even know how I got here”, Leo said, matching her irritation.

“Last time I checked, big mutant turtles didn’t just pop out of the blue”, she said loudly, before suddenly realizing. “Oh wait, yes they do. Especially you. That’s what ninjas do”.

Leo just nodded slowly, at this point absolutely terrorfied.

“You’re scaring me”, he just said.

(Y/N) looked at him in shock. “Really? Me scaring you? But how?! You're Leonardo. The fearless leader in blue, who does everything to get his ninjas through. Katana wielding with a strong focus and fantastic concentration. Nothing scares you!”

“Okay! You win!”, Leo finally yelled out. “I’ll do anything you say, just please stop! You’re scaring me!”

(Y/N) just stood there, staring at the blue turtle, utterly confused. She had never seen him do anything like that before. In every single version of Leonardo, the fearless leader in blue, you had never seen him scream out that he was scared. He would never show that he was scared, and if he did, he would somehow turn it into something he could use in battle. Fuel for his fighting in a way anger just wouldn’t be able to do.

(Y/N) tilted her head slightly, staring confused at the large terrapin. “How am I scaring you?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”, Leo said, just as confused as her. (Y/N) shook her head no. Leo almost laughed in disbelief. “You know my name, you know about my katanas and you know… you know a lot about me! But I’ve no idea who in the shell you are!”

“You actually say shell”, (Y/N) giggled, only to be met by a very disapproving face by Leo. “Right, sorry”.

“How do you know so much about me?”, he finally asked.

(Y/N) didn’t answer him. It took her a second to realize that Leo in fact had no idea where he was. Nothing the way the TMNT universe worked, (Y/N) was starting to have an idea of what was going on.

“You have no idea how you got here, or where you are, do you?”

Leonardo huffed, obviously irritated by her change of subject. After a moment of looking irritated in the famous Leonardo way, he decided to finally answer.

“No, I’ve no idea. In one moment I’m being flung across New York’s skyline, and in the next I’m in your living room. I know it sounds strange, but I promise it’s the truth!”

“Yeah, knowing who you are, I believe you’re telling the truth”.

“Great! Absolutely fantastic!”, Leo said in the most sarcastic tone (Y/N) had heard in a long time. Knowing it was the bayverse Leonardo standing in front of her, she was surprised to hear something that sounded so much like Rise Leo. “Now, will you please tell me how you know me?”

(Y/N) shifted from one foot to another, thinking of the best way to tell him. She ended up giving him an awkward smile while fiddling with her fingers.

“Does different dimensions say anything to you?”

Leo’s head sank a level closer to her level. “What?”

“This is going to sound really strange, and probably freak you out a little more. You know, like how Krang is from another dimension from you and your brothers”. Leo blinked, slowly nodding. “Yeah, you’re in a different dimension”.

Leo blinked at (Y/N) for a moment. “Okay? I take it that there’s more to it than that?”

“Yeah, for the next part you probably wanna sit down”.

(Y/N) grabbed the mutant by the arm, before leading him to the exact same sofa he had found himself in just a few moments ago. He sat down, just as uneasy he had been throughout his time in her apartment. Leo watched the (h/c) girl as she went to her DVD collection, stored under her TV, mindlessly fidgeting with bandages around his hands. Her wondered if he should ask her what she was doing. Maybe even tell her that now was not the time to watch a movie. But instead he kept quiet.

(Y/N) found her two Bayverse movies. She held them in her hands for a moment before sighing, remembering the tattoo on her right deltoid. Well, here goes nothing.

(Y/N) walked to Leo, handing him the two movies. Confused, he took them in his green hands, before finally taking a look at the covers. His heart almost stopped for a second. He was staring at himself and his brothers. April, Casey, even Bebop and Rocksteady. He didn’t say a word. His tongue wasn’t working and his mind had gone blank. The look of confusion in Leo’s eyes seemed to be enough. So caught up in staring at the DVDs in his hand, that he didn’t even notice (Y/N)’s hand falling from her t-shirt sleeve. It if wasn’t for the sound of (Y/N)’s voice, Leo would probably have been sitting like that for hours.

“I kid you not, on my way home I was thinking about watching them”.

Leo didn’t say a thing but continued to stare at her and the movies in her hands. At one point he finally decided to turn them over to read the back of them.

"Michael Bay!”

“Haha yeah, I knew you probably would like that”.

“So”, Leo said, thinking for a moment before continuing. “In this dimension, me and my brothers are movie actors?”

(Y/N) blinked at the turtle. “Movie actor? No, not at all”.

She went back to her DVD collection and pulled out Turtles Forever, Batman VS TMNT, and her collection of the 2003 TMNT and 1987 TMNT, before placing them on the sofa table, right in front of the perplexed terrapin. While he looked at one DVD after another, (Y/N) went to her bookshelf and took out her edition of TMNT IDW, before handing that to Leo.

“These are not the original. The first comic book was published back in 1984. That one is part of a new version of the story that has been going since 2011”, (Y/N) said as Leo started flipping through the pages. “Other than the comics, there are several TV series. The first one from 1987. That one was and is extremely popular, even being used for merchandise today. Several 90’s movies, and another TV show in 2003. That was how I heard about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for the first time. A movie in 2007, then a show on Nickelodeon in 2012, and yet another in 2018. Not to forget the Michael Bay movies from 2014 and 2016. Actually while we’re speaking right now, people are waiting for Seth Rogans new TMNT movie. And those are just the ones I remember right now”.

Leo slumped further back in the sofa. At least as far back his shell would allow him to. He rubbed his tired eyes with a deep breath.

“A different dimension”, he whispered, just loud enough for (Y/N) to hear. “I’m very far from home”.

“Ah!”, (Y/N) quickly said. “That’s a Spiderman movie title. Don’t get them mixed up”.

Leo continued to stare at the girl in bewilderment. He could already tell that would be just as irritating as his brothers could be. And with that thought, he remembered his brothers. His three little brothers, left confused back in his own dimension, probably not knowing whether he was alive or dead.

(Y/N) noticed the change in Leo’s mood, before squatting down in front of him. Not that she needed to. Even if she sat down on the sofa table, he would still be taller than her. (Y/N) felt bad for him. She didn’t even have to ask to know what he was thinking about. It was written all over his face. (Y/N) knew it wouldn’t fix any of his problems, but it would maybe help him rest a little.

“Hey”, she said, putting a comforting hand on his knee. “What would you say to some pizza?”