#or moving stuff in more than one layer simultaneously

[chradorya]

march eridan for your eyes

[glowsticknfriends]

lil headcanons i have abt sans undertale because i like him so much forever

☆彡 he smells like fast food (fries + ketchup mostly of course) and snow and cigarette smoke

☆彡 he discovers smoking 🚬 after moving to the surface and takes it up as a bit of a self soothing habit. i think he tries it probably either with asgore (who i think would like cigars) or undyne (who wouldn’t like the taste but does it cause it makes her look so cool) or maybe toriel (she has potential to be a shame smoker but it’s up in the air). i def think the underground had something like cigarettes but i think (being magic) it was more like what humans would consider a blunt and sans just never got around to trying em. so he gives human ones a try and though their effect is diluted since he’s a monster he still likes how they calm him down, plus it’s something to do w his hands when he’s anxious. plus, no lungs, so no lung cancer. fuckin score

bonus abt the smoking: pap doesn’t like it (thinks it smells stinky) so sans doesn’t do it around him

☆彡 i subscribe to the very popular idea that sans undertale fucking loves space 🌌 … he is a huge astronomy/astrophysics nerd and goes absolutely ham when he gets to the surface and has unrestrained access to the night sky for the first time ever. if you got him a telescope he’d propose

☆彡 doesn’t listen to music all that much but he likes slow indie stuff (like ethel cain maybe). other than that he listens to exclusively weird al

☆彡 he’s humanphobic (with good reason) but you wouldn’t know unless u paid attention. sometimes i see him characterized as being openly hostile/cold towards new humans he meets and ive never felt like that was really accurate cause sans is so good at making people feel at ease, his primary strategy for risk reduction is getting people to like/trust him by playing up his silly charming jokester persona while simultaneously keeping them at arms length. he’s not blatantly rude or distrustful towards humans but he has an innate paranoia that i think would take him years to truly quell. it takes a really long time for him to trust someone deeply

☆彡 naps constantly but he is constantly exhausted and i think it’s because those naps are basically the only real sleep he gets

☆彡 as much as i love putting him in little outfits realistically he has like. 2 pairs of basketball shorts 4 pairs of socks and a dozen tshirts w different pun based phrases printed on them. i also think he has 3 pairs of shoes (his slippers, some worn out sneakers, and crocs)

☆彡 he snores. not crazy loud or anything but he definitely snores

☆彡 prefers baths to showers cause they take less effort on his part. i also think he bathes like once a month but luckily he’s mostly magic so he manages to not reek too bad

☆彡 actually speaking of magic, since sans’ bones aren’t actually made of bone like a humans would be, i think they actually have a slight bit of give. not like a lot but a little bit, like a particularly firm memory foam pillow almost. i also think he has a layer of transparent magic on top of his bones that gives him his signature roundness

☆彡 he blushes blue because of course he does of COURSE he does. also his eye lights reflect his emotions (gone when he’s angry, widening when he’s happy/excited, turning into hearts when he sees something/someone he really loves)

☆彡 i think monsters can eat human food just not too much of it and they don’t really require nutrients to survive like we do. sans likes the way human food tastes tho so he eats it a lot (sorta like amethyst from SU)

bonus in that same vein: i think sans can manifest a tongue from his magic when he wants to but it takes effort/energy so he doesn’t do it often

☆彡 this isn’t a headcanon but i needed to talk abt it. i have no idea what sans’ teeth look like because every single concept of what they could be is amazing and perfect and i love them all. i want him to have fangs and a tooth gap and weird round bone teeth all at the same time

☆彡 his favorite season is winter bc he gets to wear all his hoodies/jackets, everyone stays inside all day, & the snow/cold reminds him on snowdin

☆彡 just like in the underground he has tons of side gigs/jobs on the surface. he def keeps up the hot dog stand, but i think he also works at like, the grocery store near his and pap’s apartment, runs an exhibit at his local planetarium/museum, picks up trash/collects cans n stuff, lots of part time jobs like that. i also think he does stand up in clubs/bars/grillby’s surface location but thats more of a fun/passion thing

bonus related to his part times: papyrus is super focused on his own passions/aspirations and tho he def gets a job himself to help pay rent, i think sans hides the fact that he’s working so much and is actually paying most of the bills/saving up to eventually move them out of their shitty little apartment. monsters definitely are sequestered off into housing communities and largely isolated from human society for at least a couple years after returning to the surface but i think papyrus would want to live more near society so thats mainly what sans is saving up for

☆彡 calls everyone ‘kid’ or ‘kiddo’. this is basically canon at this point. but i also think he’s partial to ‘bud’ for casual friends/acquaintances

☆彡 his magic has a cooling effect to it which makes him run cold most of the time

☆彡 is really really smart (i love the headcanon that he worked w alphys for a while and has a science background) but doesn’t like revealing the fact that he’s so smart because he prefers it when people underestimate him

☆彡 is good with kids. he has zero qualms about being silly/embarrassing himself which makes it super easy for him to bond and have fun with little kids, esp like. 3rd grade and younger

☆彡 kisses by pressing his teeth/face against whoever he’s trying to kiss (like when a cat headbutts you out of affection) since he doesn’t have lips. also he audibly makes the ‘mwah’ sound

☆彡 uhh i think he has the ability to sleep w his eyes open and does it to freak people out

[raykat]

hey I hope you don't mind me asking but I noticed you posting about your ocs for an original project and that seems super cool!!! :O would love to hear more about them if you're willing to share? because they seem neat and I love the designs! also I just love hearing people talk about their ocs so ,,

oh no i dont mind at all in fact thank you so much for asking & being so nice about my project it means a lot to me as its been my biggest source of comfort recently <3

honestly not sure how to even start bc while ive been working my way through developing the main cast & worldbuilding for it for a quite a bit now idk how to put all of it in a summary that is simultaneously engaging enough & not too spoilery as id like to keep the main story beats unknown before im able to put out anything substantial...

the main thing i suppose is that the main cast consists of five humans who are all part of a group specializing in ghost hunting & exorcisms (those might not be the best words to describe it but thats the general idea). the story itself takes place on earth, but things are slightly different because theres an alien presence that corrupts the far side of moon and by extension the earth (& presumably some other planets as well); it causes various changes in the moon cycles, (such as, for example, the moon moving closer to the earth during certain periods of time) & is the reason for supernatural and spiritual occurrences on the planet. due to this many things that are seen as possible but questionable in our reality are very much real in this version of the universe. still, not everyone believes in those, since people develop different levels of affinity to the supernatural - some see & sense nothing at all, some are pretty much constantly haunted by visions, if you will (which btw isn't an innate quality that people are born with - it is affected by your surroundings & upbringing, as well as your general state of mind - there is a Heavy psychological aspect to this entire thing, really).

now, what the general storyline mainly comes down to is that at times the surplus of supernatural presence & energy in a single place may cause rifts between reality to happen - think something like the limbo or liminal spaces, they vary case by case based on what specific entity was the main cause - which is something these "ghost hunter" groups mainly deal with.

so the main gang enters one of those rifts - this specific one consists of several layers & is populated by these fish-like humanoids of different types that seem to mutate further into fully animalistic sea creatures as time goes by. now, once humans enter this type of rift, their connection to reality may be severed and they might not be able to directly interact with it until they figure out how to fully exit the rift. so thats the main goal for the first part of the story - to find a way out and stay sane since as their connection to reality & humanity fades over time, the ties to the other side only grow stronger (especially for those who have a higher affinity for the supernatural - which may include specific people in the main group...).

as i've already said before, the story has a heavy psychological aspect (one of the main reasons why i started working on it in the first place was to process some of my less than pleasant emotions - so thats probably why) so a lot of it is centered around the experiences, feelings, fears, ambitions and memories of the main characters (& some others as the story goes on) as well as the intricacies of their relationships between each other. a lot of worldbuilding also elaborates on those ideas and serves a specific symbolic purpose (i'll be very curious about how everything will be interpreted by different people, the ones who i hope will eventually take interest in the story once its out there - i also hope this doesnt sound too pretentious, im just a huge fan of metaphors & introspective analysis n all that stuff). perhaps some people may even relate to it in a way - which would be very reassuring to me as i'll be getting into a lot of things that are very personal jshsjsbd (though some are also just my own interpretations of what i've seen but haven't necessarily felt or experienced).

this came out so long my gosh im sorry. and i've only actually covered a very small part of everything without getting into much detail... 😭😭😭😭 so far there are supposed to be like ~3 parts of the project (game?) overall, all three likely being a bit different from each other in the general tone. also while writing all this i realized that i think you specifically asked about ocs and not like the whole thing hshsjhsbd but since i typed all of this out might as well put it out there it anyways. ill try to post more stuff related specifically to the main cast though. i put a lot of effort into developing their identities, relationships & making them feel as real as possible. they are my children who i love (to torture) and cherish a lot <3 they're the driving force of this universe, which yeah ofc makes sense since they Are the main cast, but what i mean is rather than reacting to what's happening they're very proactive in making the story move forward so pretty much everything leads back to them somehow. there are many side characters that i've also put a lot of work into and who represent something that is very important to me - i'll try my best to post more about them as well. i think i may try to make some spreadsheets & charts & little comics with them so people can get to know them without me venturing too far into the spoiler territory..?

this is so long and somehow i still feel i've barely said anything... also i apologize for the delayed answer i've been a little busy the past few days and i needed the time to sit down and write this whole thing since i knew it would take looooong. i'm so grateful for your ask & thank you for taking interest in my project i really appreciate it so much <3

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S02E02 - Over Ice

Eh, yes that definitely needs to be under the cut because it's long.

It feels wrong that this show had an ice skating episode before a hockey episode lol

"You should keep your dog on the carpet. It's slippier than it looks". He has four legs. And claws.

Charlie and Sarah are flirting over the body again. This is unacceptable (please continue). And we learn about Sarah's figure skating past.

"Who's afraid of little old me?"

The mom was so annoying for most of the episode.

"Enjoying" figure skating.

In the first couple of seasons there must have been about a dozen references about Jesse never going home.

I remember I had a lot of trouble finding the killer in this one. They all seemed very suspicious.

So it's not illegal to be in possessions of steroids, you just get in trouble if you use one while competing for stuff?

Julia's confession to Sarah is a nice scene. And I like Sarah's subtle reaction and support. It's not anything too dramatic, or shallow, and I honestly don't understand why some of the audience react the way they did (imdb reviews can give a hint). Not to mention that this episode gets "wokeness warning" (I can't think of any other way to put it) in backwards countries like... the US. Do you know how ridiculous it is for an episode with a minor trans character to be treated like that in the US while in countries that are a hundred years back in social issues like Greece no one bats an eye? Eh, a lot. (In Greece it aired in a major free broadcasting network and was a bit before legislation protecting trans people had passed, so I thought that we'd be the ones to cut it or we'd remove stuff in the subtitles. We didn't cut it and the subtitles were normal, plus that season was repeated like 3-4 times.)

Sarah: "I'm not a cop". You're not a cop now. In S4 you will be carrying a badge and gun.

Ah, the freezer, finally.

I am simultaneously happy and sad that this shipper moment happened so early. Happy because it was well made and if you don't put crumbs early enough, then who's going to ship it? And sad because, well, imagine this happening in S4 for example. It would have been so good and it would have been laced with an extra layer of angst.

No but Charlie was very quick to panic.

Charlie: Rex, open the door buddy! || Rex: Once again, Charlie, I don't have thumbs.

I love Charlie's detailed instructions to Rex. Sir, he's a dog. You're lucky he actually knew where to go for help. And I have to note that the most helpful suggestion came from Sarah.

Work never ends, not even when you're trapped in a freezer.

Getting to the good stuff. Couples whump, yes please.

How can anyone claim that they weren't meant to be a couple like???

"I guess I peaked early." "Hardly".

Meanwhile, Rex is trying to find the right people who will understand that when he's without Charlie, Charlie is in trouble.

Sharing body heat (and coat).

Jesse: Rex, wait up! || Rex: No, my humans are in danger! Can't those two legs of yours go any faster?

Oh, you know, just chilling.

And then Charlie asks Rex what took so long? I'd have left and locked the door again. Joking, Charlie thanks him afterwards. Just globber him in saliva, Rex, that will show him.

Random thoughts: Charlie's arm around Sarah. Also Jesse dying from all the running in the back, and no one paying attention to him lol

S4!Charlie would have at least knocked Lucas unconscious for locking him and Sarah in the freezer. At least Rex bit him and threw him on the ground.

The following interrogation scene is lookwarm and they don't mention the fact that Lucas tried to kill two more people after that. The jury is not going to like the fact that he moved the body afterwards? What about trying to kill two cops?

I like the ending scene. It ends on a high note. As for the "wokeness", just as I remembered, it doesn't present anything other than that trans people exist. It doesn't make any statements. So, I'm confused by people's reactions yet again.

[imolelalade]

Nifemi Lore and Stuff

Nifemi is a character who I tried to put layers into, while basing some aspects of her personality on myself. But while not only is it hard trying to breakdown yourself down into a character, my brain is also too messy to form proper lore before jumping straight into trauma parts, which I hyperfixtated on at some point. Seeing as this is my first time actually posting proper stuff about her and most of you might be like ‘Who the hell is even Nifemi?’, I’m gonna post a small background and info-dump on her lore a bit. (I also just need some type of  outlet for all of this, it’s one am I want to sleep, she takes up my every waking thought)

Backstory and Personality Study

Nifemi hails from Earth 1960, and she was born in South Africa, though being raised in her spiderman city, Laghattan, New Lagos City, Nigeria (A mashup of Lagos and New York), where she lived  and grew up. 

She and her sister, Bolatito, were both orphaned at about 4 and 2 years old respectively, when their parents died in a plane crash, and moved in with their Uncle Benedict ‘Ben’ Parker and Aunt Mayowa ‘May’ Parker. 

They owned a small family based resturant that brought in most of the family’s income and simultaneously ignited Nifemi’s love for cooking.

At 13 on a field trip to Oscorp Industries, she got lost from her class and got bitten by a radioactive spider and after her Uncle Ben’s death, took up the mantle of spiderwoman, or as she and her city call her, Anansi.

About a year of being Anasi later, Nifemi’s sister, Bolatito finds out about her identity and claims the role of ‘the gal in the chair, making gadgets, walkie talkies the whole thing.

When Nifemi was about 15, she met Miles 1960 (her Earth’s variant of Miles Morales) who she developed a strong friendship with as they bonded over their love for art and stuff. (Big sis, Little bro relationship)

Nifemi soon introduces Bolatito to Miles, the three of them becoming a trio with Miles and Bolatito becoming a couple at some point (Techflower)

Timeskip, blah, blah, blah, Nifemi meets Hobie at uni, develops a crush on him and him vice-versa and they both also end up together (I’ll explain the timeline more in depth later, I’m too lazy and tired to do that right now)

Anways,

Throughout her journey as Anansi, Nifemi’s canon events of losing her loved ones had a lasting impact on her personal self, both as Anansi and as her civilian self.

Nifemi and her Uncle Ben were extremely close, she growing to even see him as a sort of father figure as she barely had any memories of her real parents, which is why his death as her canon event, (though she didn’t know what canon events were at the time) had such a lasting impact on her, making her unknowingly more emotionally closed off than she would have been as a normal teenager. Her already naturally shy and introverted personality also didn’t help matters to an extent.

Due to this, even though she eventually opened up as she grew older and met HB 1960 (her earth’s variant of Hobie Brown), her second ‘loss of a loved one’ canon event of losing him (since he’s kind of her Gwen Stacy, love intrest thing), completely shattered her and set her down a dark slope of her being afraid getting close or forming any sort of relationship with people, as now 2 of her greatest love ones are dead because, in her mind, her.

As a person Nifemi is a laid back person to an extent, just moving with life but still trying to be successful. She tries to have an easy-going attitude with life but might appear to be closed off and moody to others at times. She honestly doesn’t try or mean to seem that way but has problems socializing or even opening up with people. Despite her attitude however, she does have a pretty steady friendgroup and realistic approach with life, keeping the few friends and loved ones she has close, which is why the loss of them usually has a bigger and lasting impact on her.

Nifemi sees her identity of being Anansi to be seperate yet at the same time the same with her civilain life, constantly mking connections yet still try to keep them from overlapping with each other. While, yes, she follows her Uncle Ben’s advice of “With great power comes great responsibility” and the added mindset of “If I don’t do it, who will?”, at the same time she still wonders if she should just stop trying. The fact that her city, still has their doubts about her, despite her constantly saving them, still seeing her as a demon, due to her powers and their superstitions, also doesn’t help matters and keeps the thoughts coming.

However despite all of this, Nifemi still keeps trying and persevering, using her friends and famiy as a sort of motivation to keep going, in a sense her motto kind of being, “Even if you don’t want to, do it for them”

[syrupspinner]

I defeated Endica VII: The Dream King

I wonder how many people can say that?

I have a weird history with this game. when I was a kid, I loved reading fan wikis, and one of my favorites was the magaman database despite never playing any of the games. since I was terrified of emulation ever since I got a virus from angelfire, my only hope was fangames. and the game that looked the coolest was... Mega Man Perfect Harmony!

id attach an image of the gameplay, but all kid me cared about was having a million (24) playable characters, thats really all you need. I'd check the website for it from time to time, and eventually I saw that it had inexplicably morphed into something called Endica, an original story. from what i can tell, its a pretty thorough reskin, but a reskin nonetheless, you can see stuff attacks and level layouts that were taken over wholecloth.

i think it was just a kcikstarter at the time, but i didnt donate. sorry dev guy. I bought it when it came to steam later though! before it was unlisted. but then it was put on the devs website for free, so you can still play it if you want.

that's it for the history. I just wanted to give a little background about it, because I'm not sure if anyone else would.

so, how'd the game turn out? I... have my criticisms. I promise I won't be some caustic asshole about it, but it's hard to recommend.

so it's pretty clearly inspired by classic megaman in the controls, only you have a melee attack zero-style. as for the graphics, I'm not sure what they were going for. it's like, kinda retro? but everything is super shaded and like... the only thing I can compare it to is the cdi. like, the gameplay sprites and backgrounds and stuff. it's kinda cool, like an oil painting on a crt, but I'm taken out of it by how the enemies squash and stretch, and how the coins look so unshaded and layered on top, and how healing is just an Adobe aftereffect... I can see what they were going for but it doesn't stick the landing

there was a huge multiplayer angle for the game too. it was designed to let you have four players simultaneously, nsmb style, so the levels are all really wide open to accommodate. I can't comment on this, BUT I can comment on all the characters they added to facilitate this. they all play just differently enough, and they all have upgradable moves, so it's pretty impressive and surprisingly fun to- holy shit is that the kid from shovel knight

so quick aside. I played this game before shovel knight, but I knew that there's no way shovel knight was referencing Endica, so I looked it up and it turns out that he's a backer character... in a loooooot of games. his creator, seizui, just funds his roleplay OC into a bunch of Kickstarter projects. it's awesome and I love him

anyway yeah, gameplay. it's kind of a metroidvania? you can get character upgrades but im pretty sure it's all combat stuff. my advice is to skip it whenever you can, I got a ring that let me crash the game at any time by hitting c

there's a plot, I've been told. it's a pretty basic "go here and kill evil" thing. surprisingly, reize gets the most character development, he has this whole subplot with his dad and stuff. yeah other than that it just kinda feels like characters say things, y'know? it's all written like a cartoon that just came back from a commercial. "oh, no! we have to stop the giant goblin before it destroys the town!" kinda thing, where it's more establishing basic stuff instead of setting up the characters

so yeah, it's hard to sugarcoat how unenjoyable this was. I respect the work that was put into it though! this game wasn't a waste of time, but it's hard to articulate why without it sounding backhanded. it's... charmingly flawed? there are games I've hovered between completely uninvensted and dispassionately frustrated the whole time, and this wasn't that. there's genuine heart here, an artistic vision with sincere effort behind it. if you have a tolerance for roughness, it's sincerely worth checking out, especially if you're a developer. since it's a game that's bad without being abysmal dogshit, I think it'll be really worthwhile to analyze what doesnt work and why if you're designing your own game.

also, check out the devs other projects! I haven't had the chance to try it myself, but Azazel looks like it'd be fun to try!

[ryandrawsdoodleandsketches]

(Old crappy) short story dump!!!

I have a weird relationship with Sci-Fi stories personally, on one hand some of my favorite works are science fiction, but on the other….I lowkey suck at writing them, probably the thing I find hardest to write. However school had other plans for me lol.

What your about to read (if you read this) is a sci-fi story I made for a high school 11th grade final, granted I got an A on this so it’s not the worse thing but I personally think it’s still kinda ass, but i thought id share it as this is my personal blog and stuff.

Disclaimer: I wrote this in one all nighter while half asleep and exhausted beyond belief, the fact that it got me a good grade is a miracle imo.

To run through all that again before we start, this is a short story I wrote for a high school English final, this assignment was to make a short science fiction story. I made this whilst basically half asleep.

Without further ado here’s….

The Doll in the Wastelands Eye

I remember when I first awoke, or at least as close as something like me could get to it. The turning on of a perpetual hydrogen reactor housed in 15,000 micro layers of metal frames, wires, and light weight carbon plating, all of that was then encased in a off white plastic body and a off white silicone face. The form I hold is human in shape, the same amount of limbs, the same proportions. Androgynous in features, some angles this body looked quite masculine, from other angles this face looked far more feminine. Underneath hair the color of prairie grass, right where my ears would have been were 2 cylindrical spiraling “cups” that weaved wires to the nape of my neck, on the left one, a device similar to a geiger counter ticked calmly. Tick. Tick. Tick. The one on the right had a large spike-like protrusion attached, its point going horizontal, upwards and out of my view, I could hear the sound of something unfolding like an umbrella or an antenna.

My eyes prior to its attachment were able to see the world, rendered by billions upon billions of pixels to the point I'd wager it would have been no lesser quality than the people who made me, say for one issue, the people I saw around me, I didn’t recognize them, no that's not it, I simply couldn’t recognize them, their bodies obscured in the static of my mechanical limits, they were just noise. Their sounds were just noise. Their forms were just noise. Every last thing about them was just noise. What a disgusting noise, disgusting. And yet that distortion in my code was corrected once that thing was connected to my skull.

For a minute the noise inverted, the world was nothing but noise and the people were now clearly visible, still disgusting, I swear if my optics could bleed they would have been at that moment. The people adjusted again and the noise was completely gone, thankfully. The mechanical frame and series of interlocking joints at my neck hinged and twisted slowly as I moved my neck upward to stare them all directly in the eyes. Murmuring was heard across the room I was encased in, it was all simultaneously too quiet and too clear to not bother me.

I wanted to voice my frustrations but as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I realized my voice box had not been installed yet. For something without a need for air, it was surprisingly suffocating to not be able to speak. Before long someone walked in, he was older than the rest, probably 90 years if I were to guess, darkened eyes, shriveled, loose strands of hair sparsely covering the man's head, crooked and blocky nose, sunken cheeks, and wrinkles covering every crook and cranny of their face. His face also looked to be a little malformed and very scarred, probably would look ugly regardless of how old he was. If I am to be so bold I think I looked quite attractive in comparison. He spoke to me in an accent that was a little stronger than his contemporaries, and in octavies far far deeper. I don’t recall the exact words, not really, but I did know three things: One. I was one of many, neither my face nor my body were any different from those they worked on in my series prior. Two. My body was equipped with at least 100 things that humans don’t have. And finally three. I am what they called “C-F17” or Caith and I was made for war.

My equipment was lethal by all accounts, blasters, enhanced strength and speed, durability rivaling the best the frontlines had to offer, and a series of computer based systems that the humans compared to telepathy, whatever that was meant to mean.

It was like a flash, barely a frame of time in my optics. One moment I am chained to a metallic room, a horrid technological workshop the next I am in a world of blues and greens, I had been given robes and clothes similar in design to the wears of my fellow soldiers, their bodies being flesh were mines was metal, but our uniforms were the same, at least superficially. Despite how clear the sky was, all I heard were the crackling of gunfire, the screams of man, the burning of flames, soon the blue of sky around me was dyed red.

Eventually the final bell of war toiled but by then the final bell of civilization had done the same. The cities and commodities that were once as accessible as air were snuffed out like a light. Homes were little more than charred ground. What was it all for? I still don’t know why we were even fighting a war, I once asked this to the strong willed soldier who was placed as my commanding officer, Captain Smith, or something close to that anyways, he said “ We are fighting to keep them all safe.” He motioned to a nearby park, bustling with life and activity. I suppose he may have misinterpreted my question wrong, I didn’t mean his reason for fighting, I didn’t ask further. It didn't seem right.

Before long the lands around me were dust and sand, rocky formations that were categorically inhabitable, and yet life persisted regardless, the sky was a permanent shade of crimson due to chemical agents and toxic attempts at ending the war through biological atrocities as opposed to mechanical ones. The deep red reflected vibrantly in the few water sources that were plentiful. Again. A jump in my memory. People… People changed, not physically but socially, murderers, thieves, pillagers, and the very worst of human impulses were on full display by now, the clean clothes of world that made me were all but gone, just rags and dingy robes in their place, zealous anger overtook any diplomacy among the people, some tried to kill me on my travels, they didn't make it far. Again a jump in my memory.

A small “fort” stood in front of me, cardboard, wood planks, rocks and a worn out notebook, all surrounding a disheveled child, no older than 11, I thought back on my captain's words back all those years ago, and before I knew it I took the weak boy into shelter. I asked for a name, they struggled to come up with one. I realized we had taken shelter in an abandoned bar. I was never able to drink, but I hope this kid will find something to enjoy once they become of age, so I named him Wine. We realized we were in the territory of some cult, “The Order of The Parchment.” a bunch of lost souls worshipping a creature from an old fantasy book as if it were Christ. Striking a deal for the sake of our refuge, we worked as labor, scavengers of junk they deemed to be of worth.

Time passed by. Weeks, days, years. Wine grew a little older, now 14, and beyond some weird misplaced care for them I harbor, this child is a bit of a little-

“CAITH!!!! WAKE YOUR METAL BUTT UP!!! WE GOT WORK TO DO!!!” -nuisance… The primary computer that makes up my brain boots up from this introspective nap and I look over to face the boy. He was rough looking around the edges, but at least he was healthier than before. I felt him try to pull me up from the broken chair and wall I fancied and out of the bar and I simply allowed him to try and pull me along with a fake attempt at resisting. “Just because you'll live to see this ball burn up doesn't mean you can just ignore your job!” he said with resolve in his voice, I smirked and let out my best attempt at sarcasm “oh no…a poor old veteran like me is being bullied by the youth, what will I do…” Wine looked at me ticked off and replied “You're a robot, you're just as much a good for nothing as you were back then, you glorified doll.”

We laughed as we made our way out to the bar and to the scrap zones near the center of The Order’s territory. Once there we were hard at work gathering scrap, our unfortunate overseers were ruthless and harsh, especially today. Supposedly today is some sort of commemorative day for their sorry excuse for a deity, Anstul, their goddess of famine and hardship. Based on this old serialized fantasy epic called “Galgeen”, I was never able to read a copy of the book but during the war, my fellow soldiers said it was akin to a “ Crappily written Hobbit fanfiction with the words for things changed to avoid copyright.” The highlight across all the opinions I heard back then was that despite how mediocre it was, its villain, Anstul, was a highlight. I doubt they were well written enough to justify this kind of worship though.

After a couple hours of working I stumbled across something at the bottom of the massive crater we are scrounging through. A hatch, unlocked and its valves evidently still in working order. I recognized the harsh architecture of the hatch from anywhere, this likely led down to a military base. Wine stopped their work and walked in circles around my discovery.

“Whatcha find there, Caith?” they asked in piqued interest. “Nothing of note, just a trashed door” I said. The world before they were probably even born isn't something that should concern this child, should not concern me either.

We sat in that old abandoned bar again. It was quiet, but by now we had affixed a makeshift light source to the room, a small beacon of warm light softly filling the room as we took our rest for the night. Three large slams blasted the quiet and shot it dead. I cautiously told Wine to find cover as I stepped out toward the door. One step, a machine's full senses online, every sound and every change in this room recorded in my mind. Two steps, I move lightly so as to not alert any dangers. Three steps, I hear the slams rage again. Four steps, I can hear the kid’s heartbeat pounding in my sensors. Fifth step, halfway to the door but the threat doesn't feel any less present. Six steps, I hear a voice on the other side “white doll of war! Surrender the kid to Anstul and your home will be spared.” it spoke demandingly. Seven steps, I feel my right hand tense up as the same demand for Wine to be released into their custody grew louder and louder. Eight steps. My optic dilates as I see through the doors wooden surface, the man is armed with a crude stick in the shape of an axe. Nine steps, Wine muffled their own sounds, ragged breaths and shouts stifled but what little reason is left in their panic. Ten steps I make it to the door and slowly open it. The man swings his axe at me from the open crevice in the door, he misses and tries again shouting “For Anstul!!!” at the top of his lungs. Swinging from overhead he drops the axe on the floor crashing at the boards. He tried to pull the axe out so he could continue attacking me and yet his fate was sealed the moment the blade was swung. My right hand moved like lightning, an immense force collided around his head and squeezed, like a ball put under hydraulic press, as I squeezed their head they attempted to punch me, thinking I would loosen at something like that, with a tensing of my hand, a hundred small mechanisms turn like clockwork, small locks and valves shift before larger pieces of plating begin to move as well, once my hand made way for the barrel of a blaster I fired, the sound was several octaves too high for human ears to comprehend but not mine, it was akin to some unearthly roar in my ears and silence in their own. A bright light turned their head to fried dust, a thick trail of smoke going upwards from where the head used to be, obscuring what carnage hides beneath.

I got the kid and we made a run for it. If they already sent one man to deliver the kid to them, they will send more before long, and if this is a part of their little event, they won't stop til’ I am dead. Sneaking past the search parties I made it back to that hatch I found earlier today, between the elements and the assumed size of the thing, it’s the safest route to new land. Wine looked wide eyed and scared, like when I first met them in their makeshift shelter. I noticed the growing sounds of the cult so with little time left to spare I opened the hatch and jumped down the whole way, holding Wine to stifle their fall.

My leg units suffered some damage as a result of the fall, I can still walk, but my higher speed functions have been rendered null. I let Wine travel on their own feet, no good would come from keeping my hands full, activating my blaster again, I shoot at a contour between the hat and the rest of the wall, it crumbles enough to delay further entry from them.

We walked through the base's walls, a bluish hue masking its metal walls. After a few minutes of traveling it’s halls we come across a control room and some doors that would be our best bet out. We also found a map to the southern exit on a wall which I scanned. Each door outside the one we came in through was locked and the power system was beyond destruction, the only thing left for us to try is the backup power system. I looked at Wine who nodded to hurry up in a tense way. The backup power turned on like the respirated gasps of a monster on its last legs, a light as red as the sky shined across each surface contrasting the blues, even when power was on, this place was not one of any comfort. We heard a noise coming from deeper inside the labyrinth, the clanking and stomping of footsteps, clearly distant but evidently loud.

“L-ets hurry this up Caith…” Wine stammered. A small “yeah” was all I said in return. We make our way through the walls of the facility, signs of previous struggle flicker under the red light. Labcoats lay strewn across the floor, walls and through door windows with no sign of bodies beyond that, robots even older than me also sit completely mangled on the floor and ceilings, their wires hanging out and the oil that powered them leaking onto the ground. The trip was long and winding, even with the map, moving around here felt like going in circles, not helped by the walls being too thick for me to scan through. Occasionally we came across those from The Order of The Parchment, they were dispatched quickly, although some of them we already found dead by the time we reached a section. Those large footsteps never ceased, whatever was in here, we were lucky not to see so far. We eventually arrived at the southern entrance terminal, a control room very similar to its northern cousin we passed through at the start of this trek.

Once we turned the exit on and right as Wine was about to leave. We noticed the footsteps stop right at the door we last entered.

It was a sight familiar to me. A perpetual hydrogen reaction housed in 500000 micro layers of metal frames, wires and bullet proof shielding, encased in harsh armor that looked more like brutalist architecture than any gear worn by man or machine, it’s form was human at the basics but it’s proportions were wrong, a hulking body, and a tiny head given support by a monstrous spinal unit, where a face of silicone was built on my head, this thing had only a dark slab with a radio speaker attached to its side. It didn't make any movements. Wine took the correct move and hid in the exit hall itself, he knew it would not spare him.

I stood in the control room as it walked up to me, again not doing anything, that's when a voice echoed in my brain, like a reverbated command it spoke through the same telepathic programs I hadn't used in years, each word distorted the world to and from the noise I saw it in when I first woke up, disgusting it still was. I braced my head as I listened to the words. “What are you doing?” “There is a job that needs to be done.” “Be rid of the child!” “Do you not know why you were made?” “it’s your only purpose.” “Destroy!” “Have you really neglected your function this long?” Three voices swirled around my mind, questioning, asserting, demanding, known of them lined up yet they were all in sync, a hydra of artificial intelligences looking down upon me. It waved its hand stiffly at the computer scenes, before I knew it, static filled the air.

Static erupted on the control room monitor, words flashed into my complex. The war was fought over materials, a tale as old as time, but by now those materials we all spent fighting this war, machines turned from simple house servants into beings as intelligent and sentient as man itself, all for the sake of war. Humanity built us to end itself, replace itself in war and if directives were achieved, replace humanity itself. The monitor's words were now accusatory, asking me directly “What good have humans accomplished? Destroying their world, their ecosystem, their planet! They were right to want their own extinction, we just sped it along, Any remains of that end of an era, that excuse of a species needs to be wiped out where it stands. All war machines were built for this, from hulking beasts like this Centurion or even something as quaint as a white doll like yourself, C-F17. You have killed your fair share of people haven't you, all you need to do is keep fulfilling that function.”

I hate that I considered it for a moment, I was made for war, my hands were built to end life, not preserve it, he was right about that, but I can’t let that kid down, not when we are so close to leaving this hell. I tightened my hands and my right transformed into a blaster and fired a blast at the screen before curving it to hit the Giant that was the Centurion. The control panel was fried but the monster of a machine before me stayed standing, damaged, sparking at the injury, but still standing tall and yelling through my mind it’s frustration at my point.

I raised my arms up and said “My name Is Caith, White Doll C-F17, my purpose is to escort someone to safety, prepare yourself, hostile threat.” The Centurion raised its fists as I did mine and we exchanged blows.

Hit after hit, armour getting torn off with each strike, I was able to keep up with it’s damage by firing my blaster at each impact, soon we were both barely holding on by a thread, I am one last shot but my target isn't the enemy, it’s the control rooms generator. With one blast I sealed this place's fate, I felt Wine come back into the room and pull me out as we made it through the southern entrance in the nick of time. Fire burns down all that used to be in that military base, we're stuck in an area completely different from where we once were, no way to get back, not really a desire to go back either. We stood on nearby rocks and looked at the flames and results of the blast.

I think back again on all that’s happened. I feel disgusted at humanity, not for its crimes but for its want to take the easy way out, refusing to fix its evils or even confront them itself. I look back at Wine, they are out like a light. Sleeping against a rock. I have faith this kid will do better than the people before him, it may just be wishful thinking but that is what I feel, hope for at the least, even if the world he lives in is less than Ideal. I look out over the fire just a little longer before taking the kid and walking out, wherever this world will take me and this kid next.

For those who went this far, two things.

1. How did you like the previous story? It’s not my best work but I hope some type of enjoyment could be salvaged from it for you guys

2. You may or may not have realized that I have another story hidden under here. If you wish to see that small story, proceed downwards

While the previous one was written almost as a necessity, this one was written for a much different reason, a friend of mine hosted a little short story writing event, and for this event I wrote this thing as my submission, due to both personal fear and a the fact that it became a slog to write after a while, I am also not all that satisfied with this one, granted I do have alternate revisions, but those are both incomplete and told in a different medium than straight literature.

So for the mean time this will just be this public copy of the story, as the original older master copy is largely unreadable as it’s just used to occasionally work on the revised version. Be warned though, this story was rushed in its later half and is largely very frustrating in that section imo, still if you wish to read further the story is here. unlike the first story in this blog entry, this one’s fonts had more importance to its structure so I can’t just copy and paste this into the blog post (which is why this story is in docs) outside of that…I hope you can find something in this old little romp even if it’s frustrating by the end.

And that’s all the crappy writings I’ve done that I am comfortable sharing to the public. I hope whoever ends up reading any of these short stories finds something to like in them, even if these are admittedly pretty damn bad, and nowhere near my best work in any regard, still, I’d thought it would be nice to share them with the small readership of this tiny blog

[couchie]

THIS THIS THIS

PLUS it really would take out of the user experience to choose one path for all the viewers. and that is completely disregarding the inconsequential tidbits of fun conversations here and there that the writers were so fond of inserting in literally everywhere they could (/pos)

(it's literally one of the main things that *really* makes disco elysium, disco elysium aside from the AMAZING world building -which would/will no doubt get branded as "too detailed" and whose many parts will get discarded because it "serves no purpose to the end game"- and the uniquely flowery *and* blunt storytelling and writing that reads better than easily half the books i've read)

disco elysium is inherently an rpg, with its whole skill system (AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ABOUT THAT-- THEY WOULD HAVE TO CHOOSE THE SKILL DISTRIBUTION FOR THE VIEWERS IF THEY CHOOSE TO ADD THEM AT ALL) and it is literally based on storytelling, which focuses equally on the surroundings and random notes as it does with the actual action taking place

making it into a movie, where all the writing there really is is dialogue, and where most things are left to gain from the watching part of the movie (which is why the visuals are so important in movies and filmmaking-- ya gotta have some visual appeal in the backgrounds and characters' body language/moves that is simultaneously not distracting and is telling the story as much, if not more, as the characters actually talking), would take out literally the most integral parts of the game that hooked so many people in and make it into a hollow shell of its original self. not to mention, the game itself already has some amazing visuals with great backgrounds and stuffs

there are thousands upon thousands of choices to make in the game: the minor dialogue choices, the clothes you wear for the stat boosts, red and white checks, the order of the things you do... hell, even the newspaper headlines about your death when you reach zero health or morale. how do they mean to retain even a bit of all these little bits and bobs that really make it into the incredibly layered and charming piece of media that it really is?

even going past all that, past the fact that theyre gonna decide the skill distributions and the character archetypes and how inevitably it will turn more into a copoganda movie with the theme of "addicts are evil and need to be purified in order to be a decent human being" (with a %3 or so chance of them making kim and harry in a relationship for the fan service and to mask all those things and pull the attention elsewhere and/or to be trendy) and how it will turn the current existing storyline into a mocking mimick of the writers' labor of love; they're gonna choose a political leaning for harry

which means we are either 1) getting fascist media on top of everything else, or 2) theyre gonna make em communist and then either insert the copoganda into that OR make a caricature of communism, OR 3) theyre gonna play it "safe" and make him moralist (and maybe even give him the Boring Cop copotype to top off the shitcake LOL)

that is to say that will most likely be used for whatever propaganda they wanna spread politics-wise because disco elysium is such a heavily political game. you literally cant take the politics out of disco elysium

literally we already have great visuals, great rpg gameplay where there are literally not dialogue trees but dialogue FORESTS, voiced dialogues, animations, all the writing we need, the heckin skills-- whatever they end up doing, it won't even come close to the original product.

Fr though, I think a DE film/tv show would be terrible in so many ways, one of which is producers/directors/etc. would think Harry was too weird for mainstream audiences, so instead of a guy with 24(26?) voices in his head and genuine psychosis/ADHD/autism/potential bipolar I/all the plethora of mental illnesses he has, he’d just be an alcoholic who talks to his tie sometimes

[ahemerson]

Simattle is ready.

This is a massive unoccupied world I’ve been working on since April. I have play tested a previous version of the world for months simultaneously and have fixed numerous quirks along the way.

“A very large world for the Sims 3. It has so much to do for the Sims who get bored easily. Plenty of skill building activities in walking distance of the school, and a lot of beaches to enjoy the prime location! Build your own home or move into one of the exiting houses and have fun!!”

World Size: Large

File Size: 105.4 MB

File Name:  Simattle 0.2 Simattle v2 

Name change and updated file. Lesson learned, do not put punctuation in your world file name. ( The 2.0 v2 is because I have a previous iteration of this world I have used to play test. )

Move-in Ready Homes: 65 ( 9 High Rises, 4 Single-Sim Starters )

Empty Residential Lots: 33

Developed Community Lots: 73

Empty Community Lots: 15

World Textures: Grass x2 Rock x2 Sand x2 

Spawners: All spawners are present other than World Adventures and Into the Future.

Required Expansions: World Adventures, Ambitions, Late Night, Generations, Pets, Showtime, Supernatural, Seasons, University Life, and Island Paradise.

Required Stuff Packs: High End Loft, Fast Lane, Outdoor Living, Town Life, Master Suite, Diesel Stuff, and Movie Stuff.

Required CC: Absolutely none. No store content, no custom content. Was my goal from day one to keep all CC out. 

DOWNLOAD (SFS)  

Note, the festival area is the one from Bridgeport, and when the skate ring appears it glitches through the ground, it’s hilarious. I meant to delete it before exporting, but then there would be no festival grounds in this world. It has zero effect on the game, my sims have skated on it just fine lol

Also, I have plans to build a festival ground on a pier that I needed Simattle v2 to have the correct lot. Some of the community lots are built into the cliffside making them only playable from 3 sides. If you want a screenshot from that 4th angle just use TAB mode. None of the residential homes suffer this issue though.

Lastly, I built this world to play with my 2021 upgraded computer and so far has ran great for me. 

One more note: There is a save issue with the first file I put up, so if you can’t reload your save just uninstall ‘Simattle 0.2′ and replace with current download ‘Simattle v2′. You will not be able to load saves made with 0.2, but your new ones with v2 will work perfectly fine. I’ve never had an issue with a custom world so I did not know that this would happen, but if you put punctuation in the world file name it makes that glitch happen. So sorry to those, like, 4 people. 

Here is a screenshot of my CAW layers. I expanded one of them to show that I have layers inside of layers for organization.

[tomurasprincess]

Kinktober Day 24: Monster (The Asylum)

Day 24: Monster Title: The Asylum Pairing: Mothman Shigaraki x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Noncon, monster mind control stuff, oviposition, cumflation, belly bulges, breeding, forced orgasms, some slight descriptions of gore and blood, yandere Note: The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is a real place, although parts of what I wrote is fake, mostly the part where they close down a second time in the fic. IRL, they’re still open and doing tours. Tagging @ichor-and-symbiosis​ and @kazooli​ as two of the OG Mothura writers 👀

Sequel: The Brood

Kinktober Masterlist

You’ve always loved urban exploring, going to old mental asylums and hospitals to look around and see the decay of places that used to be so bustling with people. You especially liked the places that had tragic pasts, the ones where horrific things occurred. It sounds morbid to anyone you talk to about your interests, but it was the truth. You’ve always believed in monsters and ghosts just out of sight of humanity, lurking in the dark corners of abandoned places.

That’s why you instantly planned a trip to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum the second you heard about it. It had been abandoned years ago due to extreme abuse of patients. A historical society had moved in later, renovating the place and making a history tour of it that also did ghost tours at night.

But even they ended up abandoning the place due to the fake ghost tours apparently starting to become real ghost tours. People began to see creatures out of the corner of their eyes, something they said was much larger than a human, with wings on its back and piercing red eyes.

It was initially dismissed as overactive imaginations, people who wanted to see ghosts so badly that they were seeing things that weren’t there. Or people who just wanted to start tall tales  for attention and were flat out making things up in order to scare the rest of the group.

But then the disappearances started to happen. It was almost always young women who got separated from the tour group, although a few times it was a boyfriend and girlfriend who got lost together. The tour guides scoured every inch of the asylum looking for the missing people, but they found no trace of them. At first it was dismissed as the people getting scared and running off without telling anybody.

Until one day, a regularly scheduled tour group stumbled across the bodies. Not the bodies of the missing girls, but their partners. They were viciously torn apart, with limbs scattered all over the room. Their blood covered the walls, the floor, even the ceiling of the room. The women were alive but traumatized, rocking back and forth in a corner of the room absolutely covered in blood, none of which was their own.

They told the same tales that the rest of the people did. They were captured by a monster, around 8-9 feet tall, with large moth-like wings and red eyes. The creature was surprisingly gentle to them, they said, at least until they saw that they were with someone. The creature had become enraged, tearing their partner to pieces as they watched. They knew for certain that they would be next, their eyes squeezed tight as they waited for their death.

But the creature did nothing, simply turning away and leaving the room like they were not what the creature wanted.

Although everyone agreed that something horrible had happened to the young women, none of them believed their story. They had stayed in that room for several days, covered in the blood of their loved ones, not knowing if they were ever going to make it out. Of course they were traumatized, thinking they saw monsters. But monsters aren’t believed to exist, and so everyone began to look for a human murderer that was never found.

The asylum tried to recover from the tragedy, but it was never able to. The amount of bad press they got for having lax safety standards and not taking care of their tour groups caused everybody to stay away. Finally, having no other choice in the matter, the asylum had closed.

When you heard this story, you were over the moon excited. Not just a historical landmark, but also a place with a possible real life monster sighting. Nothing was going to stop you from going there and seeing the place for yourself.

And now here you stand, in front of the building with a backpack full of supplies slung over your shoulder. You had your phone, flashlights with spare batteries, a spare change of clothes, matches and lighters, even a rope and various other tools should something happen inside of the building.

And so, with a deep excitement bubbling up in your stomach, you find your way through a hole in the fence and walk through the front door. The first thing you see is the reception desk with various odds and ends left over from the closure. There are even still brochures describing the various types of tours and listing prices.

You walk down the first corridor you see, going past various closed off rooms that look to be basic examination rooms. There is surprisingly little decay, mostly everything still looking rather clean and intact besides a thick layer of dust and cobwebs covering everything. You’re a bit discouraged but decide to continue on to see if things get more interesting.

After all, the murders occured in the basement, and you’re not anywhere close to that yet.

Soon you find yourself in the medical ward where the patients were kept, and you instantly realize one of the reasons this hospital was so nightmarish. The rooms are even smaller than jail cells, leaving barely enough space for patients to lay down in. There are so many rooms of that exact size that you wonder how the staff could accurately take care of the amount of patients there had to be. But you remember your research, remember the fact that they couldn’t.

That was why so many brutal procedures were performed such as lobotomies, in order to keep the peace at the asylum and make things easier for the doctors and nurses. You give a quick shudder and begin to move on, feeling a strange sensation that you desperately want to get away from.

The decay gets worse and worse the closer you get to the basement, rust and decay beginning to cover every surface you see. You walk past some of the surgery rooms and feel horror at the utensils and instruments you see in them. The historical society tried to keep things as accurate as possible, and as such, they had kept most of the equipment that you would see back in those days.

You’re beginning to wonder if this is a good idea, as that strange sensation continues to worsen and worsen. You realize with a start what this feeling actually is.

It feels like someone is watching your every movement. You whirl around, shining your flashlight in every direction as you try to see what’s watching you. But there’s nothing but darkness and the decaying walls of the hospital. You shake your head, laughing quietly at the fact that you’re spooked out by a few weird shadows and an odd feeling.

You’re not going to let it stop you from your goal, however, and you continue forwards until you get to the doors of the basement. The feeling here is overwhelming, simultaneously telling you to run and move forward all at the same time. The conflicting emotions leave you off balance and light headed, and you reach your hand out instinctively when you sway on your feet. You touch a section of the wall and instantly pull your hand back.

The wall is warm, not cold like it should be. A sense of unease crawls up your spine, and you decide then and there that it’s time to go. Making it to the basement is not worth this, whatever it is you’re feeling. But then you hear a soft humming and the flapping of wings, coming from deep within the basement of the hospital.

Instead of being terrified, however, you feel entranced. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard, and it’s calling you. You open the basement door without even thinking about it, walking down the stairs in a dreamy haze. You don’t even pay attention to how heavy the rot here is, how the walls are entirely blackened by decay that spreads out like veins on a body.

You don’t pay attention when the door slams closed behind you, locking you in with whatever is calling you closer. All you can think about is getting to that beautiful sound, that lonely haunting call that seems to burrow deep into your brain. You walk as if you’re in a trance, turning corridors that you’ve never seen before but somehow know where they’re going.

Finally, you get to a door that is deep within the bowels of the basement, a bright red door that seems to beckon you inside. You push open the door with no hesitation, walking through and letting it close behind you.

And you finally come face to face with the creature. He is about 9 feet tall, towering over your small form. He’s not overly muscular, but he has a thin wiry look to him that says he is deceptively strong. His red eyes bore into you like they’re staring directly into your soul. On his back are two massive wings, spread to their full wing span and utterly gorgeous.

The creature makes a small chittering noise as he motions you towards him, and you follow like he’s a puppeteer holding your strings. He pulls you tightly into his body, burying his nose into your neck and taking a deep whiff of your skin. His hot breath on your sensitive skin pulls a shudder from you. and he tightens his grip as if he’s worried you’ll get away.

A long tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking at the pulse point that is frantically beating. “Mine,” he groans into your skin, sharp teeth grazing you. “Mate.” You’re lifted up off your feet before being laid down on the ground, hips in the air and face down on the floor. He rips your pants off easily, leaving your panties on as he lowers his head down. You feel a flash of embarrassment as he sniffs them like he sniffed your neck, groaning again as his tongue drags across the wet abric. “Fertile,” he whispers as he pulls your panties aside, “fertile mate.”

The haze parts from your mind long enough for you to feel a sharp flash of fear, and then his tongue is lapping at your folds and the fear is quickly chased away again. You dig your nails into the floor as you feel him work his tongue inside of you, using it to fuck you like a cock would. You gasp when he hits your cervix with his tongue and keeps going, wiggling against the barrier like he’s trying to break through it.

Something in his saliva causes your body to heat up and your muscles to loosen enough for him to batter his tongue harder against you and push through. Your scream echoes through the walls of the room, but not of pain. Instead, a fierce pleasure overtakes you as your cervix gives way to the creature’s tongue, allowing him to enter into your womb.

The feeling of this tongue wiggling around in your empty womb causes you to tip over the edge and cum around the creature’s tongue as he eagerly laps at your juices. He withdraws his tongue, causing you to let out a whine of disappointment, only to be surprised when you feel something prodding at your entrance. It doesn’t feel like a human cock at all, with ridges and bumps along the length and much thicker than a human cock would be.

You have a single moment to wonder how it will fit inside of you before it’s pushing in, stretching out your tight outer ring of muscles and causing a sharp burning in your lower stomach. You whine and try to pull away, only for the creature to let out a snarl as claws dig into your hips, causing your blood to drip down onto the pavement.

Even though there is no pain, only more pleasure, you learn your lesson and don’t try to move away as the thick cock slides even further into you. It’s so much thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before, and you’re shaking like a leaf when he finally bottoms out inside. You think he’ll start thrusting like a human male would, except that he doesn’t.

He keeps pushing, humping into you with sharp movements designed to force your cervix open even further. You squeal as the cock makes it past the barrier, burying deep inside of your womb. You glance down and let out a choked sob at the bulge in your stomach where the tip of the creature’s cock is.

“Pretty - pretty mate,” the creature says hesitantly, rolling his hips experimentally into you and drawing a groan from your throat. “Tomura,” he adds, and it takes you a second to realize that’s the creature’s name.

“Tomura,” you murmur, and the creature chitters happily at the sound of your voice saying the name. You try to think of something else to ask, maybe even to beg to be released as the haze seems to clear a bit, but Tomura begins to hum again, and you instantly smile in bliss as all of your concern fades away.

You feel something else pushing into your entrance, and it takes a long moment to realize what it is as you feel it slip up your stretched out tunnel.

Eggs. The creature is filling you with eggs. Instead of being horrified, however, you moan as they continue to move inside of you. There are multiple eggs at once, small and gooey, and they coat your insides with wetness as they make their way to your still stretched out cervix.

You feel them pass through the opening to plop down into your womb, and you cry out and cum hard, pussy wildly fluttering around Tomura’s cock. He lets out a deep grunt of pleasure as he rocks his hips against you, and you feel more eggs pushing into you. This time, a few of them get stuck against a spongy spot inside of you, and you scream out your orgasm, legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, oh god, shit, Tomura - “ you babble mindlessly as more eggs push into you, “it feels so good, why does it - “

Before those eggs can push fully in, there are already more entering you, and you feel so incredibly full. They drop down into your no longer empty womb, wringing another orgasm from your tired body. The skin of your stomach is stretching, making you look bloated, and Tomura still isn’t done.

You lose track of time completely, only aware of your body twitching and convulsing as more and more eggs push up into you, settling into your womb with the rest of them. Your stomach already looks 9 months pregnant, and you can barely hold yourself up.

Tomura sees this, and he gently picks you up and lays you down on your back. “Pretty mate,” he leans and kisses your forehead, “look so good with my children. Our children.”

“Oh god, no more, please no more, I’m so full Tomura,” you whimper as more eggs push into you. “Please, so full - “

Tomura hums softly at you, and you smile with bliss as the final eggs plop down into your womb.  His movements become more savage, thrusting hard into you as he grunts and groans. The force of his thrusts has you sliding up, breasts bouncing and your belly jiggling. The feeling of the eggs moving around inside of you has you howling out your orgasm, blackness dotting the edge of your vision as you almost lose consciousness.

Finally, Tomura is finished, and his cock begins to twitch inside of you as hot ropes of cum fill you up, shooting directly into your womb where the eggs reside. You sob as you watch your stomach bulge out even more as the creature’s cum fertilizes the eggs inside. You can no longer see the dents and valleys of the eggs along your stomach, and you reach down to gently run your hand over your bloated stomach.

You can feel the eggs through the barrier of skin, and it causes your eyes to roll back at the pleasure. Tomura gives a soft, happy chirp as he places his hand over yours on your belly, rubbing it gently. He pulls out slowly, causing a mixture of your cum and his to gush out of your now gaping pussy.

He reaches down to pick you up as he walks towards a door in the back of the room that you hadn’t noticed before. You’re shocked by what you see when you walk through. It’s an utterly untouched room, still looking brand new and with none of the decay that covers the rest of the basement. There is no bed, but there is a pile of clean blankets and pillows in the corner, piled up high and in a circle.

A nest, you realize. It’s a nest. For you. He tucks you in gently, chirping again as his clawed hand runs over your pregnant belly. “Mate,” he says happily, “my pretty little mate.” He stands up and walks towards the door, turning to you one last time as his gaze narrows and darkens just a bit.

“No running. Don’t want to have to tie mate down.” He continues to gaze at you, as if waiting for something.

“I won’t run,” you say quietly, and the dark look on his face is gone instantly as he beams at you.

“Good mate, good.” And with that, he’s gone.

With his absence, some of the haze lifts and you’re able to realize the horror of the situation you’re in. Nobody knows where you are, and you’re trapped. Even if you wanted to run, you don’t think you could with how large your belly is. No escape and no help coming for you, and the creature already seems so possessive of you that he’s not going to let you easily escape.

If only you had listened to your instincts earlier, if only you hadn’t been so fascinated with the grotesque, if only you had simply chosen to stay home.

You’ve always believed in monsters. You just never thought you would find one.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern​, @vixen-scribbles​, @katsukisprincess​, @hisoknen​, @trafalgar-temptress​, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto​, @bakugotrashpanda​, @dee-madwriter​, @kittycatkrissa​, @reinawritesbnha​, @yanderart​, @dabilove27​, @anxietyplusultra​, @flutterfalla​, @angmarwitch​, @nereida19​, @babayaga67​, @fromsunnywithlove​, @dabis-kitten​, @bakugos-cumsock​, @yumeneji​, @the-grimm-writer​, @iwaizumi-chan​, @slashersheart​, @bunnyywritings​, @bakarinnie​, @angie-1306​, @lalalemon101​​, @videogameboiwhowins​​, @f4nficbaby​​, @tenkoshimmy​, @baroque-baby​​, @bbyspiiice​​, @thirstyforthem2dmen​​, @blissfulignorance2000​, @bluecookies02-main​

[miiamour]

pretty in pink

fem!reader x luna lovegood

summary: you and your girlfriend, luna skip your date to do something more intimate.

warnings: smut, nipple play, thigh riding, tribadism, mommy kink, skirt kink?, edging, cunnilingus.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i’ve been feeling extra gay lately so here you go. the dom in me did not come to play..

⊱ ──── ˗ˏˋ✧*♡*✧´ˎ˗ ────⊰

it wasn’t your plan to be in the position you were currently in; luna rutting against the thin cotton of your pants. originally the two of you were supposed to have a picnic near the blacklake but instead here you were; sitting on the edge of the bed while she got herself off on your thigh.

once who saw her in her pink skirt that stopped at about her mid-thigh— you simply couldn’t resist. her fair porcelain legs were smooth with small caramel freckles scattered everywhere; as if they were sprinkled on.

it was innocent at first. all she did was straddle your thigh to give you a sweet kiss, no intention of getting off on it. but when you grabbed onto her waist, pulling her closer, you felt her flinch from the friction. then you bounced your leg out of excitement and a whimper fell out her mouth. you couldn’t possibly restrain yourself from doing it again— and again.

her delicate hands gripped onto your shoulder, scrunching up your blouse but you honestly couldn’t have care less. the only thing on your mind was luna, and the way she dragged and thrusted against your thigh, the way her eyes fluttered with every movement, the way her waist fit perfectly in your hands.

the moans that left her lips resembled violins, her whimpers were like harps. everything about her was utterly beautiful. your hands moved all around her torso following along the curve of her body until the landed on the buttons of her top. you impatiently unbuttoned it, revealing her white lace bralette.

“this for me, love?” you asked her while caressing her chest through the see-through material.

“mhm, yes mommy” she went faster with every second your hands stayed on her skin. you followed the hollow of her collarbone with your finger all the way to the strap of the bralette.

“arms up” you demanded more than asked, and she obliged.

once the bralette was off, you placed soft quick kisses all around her chest— purposely avoiding her breast. luna squirmed, her back arching in an attempt to push her chest closer to you.

you wrapped an arm around luna’s waist and pulled her closer as your lips began kissing her breast, easily leaving purple marks. you moved your lips so that they slightly grazed across luna’s nipple which caused her to moved faster and closer to your mouth.

your tongue circled her hardened nipple which resorted in luna wrapping her arms around your neck. although her intent was to grasp onto something so that she could please herself faster, it also resulted in you taking her tit in her mouth which added on to the inferior pleasure.

it was a beautiful picture; luna in nothing but a pink skirt as she was desperately rolling her hips not being able to fully let go. the knot in her stomach was tight and it seemed impossible to undo.

you looked up at her, mouth open in a perfect O shape, and her eyes closed in dedication to reaching her high. it was almost too much of a sightly scene to destroy— almost.

you swiftly lifted luna off of you and moved her to lay on the bed. small whines fell out of her mouth, as did the lack of touch.

“pretty girls don’t whine” you pouted mockingly. luna laid flat on her back as you shuffled down in between her legs. you kissed, licked and sucked her ivory thighs, even nibbling once or twice at her freckles. you felt her legs twitch in anticipation.

you spelt trailed your tongue through her and you both groaned simultaneously. without warning you began dragging your tongue through her folds, lapping at her arousal. there was nothing better than this; watching her writhe underneath you and tasting her— it was better than a cold glass of water on a hot summer day.

you swiped your finger through her. you placed sloppy wet kisses all over her cunt. your tongue circled her entrance as your finger teasingly lingered around her nub.

in a sudden movement, your tongue delved into her, twisting and turning inside of her. her hand grabbed onto your head, tugging on your hair while moans filled the room.

“mhm, so good. yes— merlin” she blabbered liked a baby as you continued to thrust into her.

you looked up at her, one hand was on your head while the other was kneading her own breast. her back was arched away from the mattress and her eyes were closed in pure bliss. your eyes studied every inch of her body, every freckle, every curve, everything.

you lifted her legs and placed them on your shoulders, finding a better, deeper position. you enjoyed it nearly as much as she did.

“i’m close mommy, so close” she whimpered, the new positions causing better pleasure. arousal pooled at your core at the mere sight of luna nearly losing it.

so again, you had to ruin the pretty sight of luna writhing. you moved away from in between her legs and luna pressed her lips together to keep from whining.

you stood up, and slowly undressed yourself as luna watched attentively. you slipped you pants off, your shirt following soon. you moved back onto the bed and bent down to give luna a sweet kiss.

you settled in between her legs, with yours on either side of hers. you lifted her right leg, allowing it to rest on your shoulder. you slowly lowered yourself onto her. your bare cunt barely grazing against hers.

“please mommy” was all luna could mutter, a smirk played your face and you were actually going to teasingly move further from her heat, until—

she gripped you hips and slammed you into her, moans filing the entire room as she guided you. you would’ve definitely punished her— if you hadn’t been so aroused by it.

but yet there you were, allowing luna to control you and you loved every second of it.

heavenly; the only way you could’ve possibly described it, the seraphic feeling of her skin on yours caused your mind to go foggy with lust. with every movement better than the previous, you were sure you had been making love to an angel.

luna moaned and cried, the feeling being too much yet not enough. it was the third time she had neared an orgasm and she was dedicated to finally let go. every thrust caused your nubs to nuzzle against each other, adding onto the euphoric feeling.

your hands were each settled on lunas tits, squeezing and kneading as she cried out of pleasure. her face was twisted an ecstasy, pretty as a a picture— if you could, you’d photograph it and keep it in your wallet.

“please mommy, i’m close, so close! can i come, please!” luna begged as you rutted against her.

“hold it” you moved faster. the knot in your stomach was tight, almost painful. elation running through your veins. her touch was intoxicating; her skin felt like fire against yours, there was nothing but a thin layer of sweat in between the two of you.

luna’s hand slide down to you core, her thumb suddenly circling your clit. “now! fuck—“ you cried out.

euphoria overtook the both of you, you’re legs shook as luna pulled you on top of her— gripping onto your shoulders while her head nuzzled in your neck leaving sloppy thank-you kisses.

you turned your body so that luna’s head rested against your chest. you pulled a blanket over the two of you as the room suddenly seemed much colder than before. her blonde hair tickling your neck as you drew circles into her shoulder.

“you did so good for me, baby” you cooed as she began falling asleep.

“thank you mommy” she muttered as she curled into your arms.

“mhm” you reached towards the lamp near your bed and turned the light off.

you placed a kiss on luna’s temple, “luna?”.

all she could do was murmur a “hmm?”.

“i didn’t forget about your sudden dominance today— don’t worry, you’re tired tonight and i’m feeling nice so i’ll just wait for tomorrow”

taglist: @keepawaythenargles @anywherebuthere @myloveforluna @ga-bitch @miss-starkov @starlight-writes-stuff

[nctsworld]

fire alarm

✩ mark x reader | college au | fluff | 1.7k 

SUMMARY ⇾ when your dorm building’s fire alarm goes off in the middle of the night and everyone’s outside, you offer to share your blanket with your shivering, cute neighbour. WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, couple of swear words RATING ⇾ teen+ 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

You started to drift into deep sleep when the sudden blares of the dorm’s fire alarm stirs you awake. 

Your groans are muffled in your pillow, frustrated that this is probably another false alarm like usual. With heavy eyes, you rush to grab your phone and keys, stuff your feet into your shoes, and waddle among the crowd of students, departing the building with your blanket over your shoulders as a make-shift jacket.   

The moment you reach the front of the building where everyone safely coalesces, you glance at your phone as you tug at the ends of your blanket around your chest. 3:08am glows back at you, along with a couple other notifications. You barely get the chance to check them since the blatant chattering of teeth nearby catches your attention instead. 

Your gaze rests on the familiar figure a few steps beside you, rubbing his arms up and down while his legs tremble. Peering around, you realize you’re one of the few who brought more than a jacket for extra warmth during this chill, autumn night. On the other hand, he’s one of the few who hardly had any layers, solely wearing a baggy red t-shirt and a pair of boxers. 

His face swivels side to side, searching the crowd, and it dawns on you that it’s none other than your next door neighbour, Mark. 

His dorm room was to the left of yours. You’ve only interacted with him in passing, regularly acknowledging each other with casual nods and smiles. His sweet smile never failed to make your heart race and to make the corners of your mouth widen further. You didn’t know much about him, except for the fact he played guitar since you occasionally heard him play late at night. 

You always wanted to get to know him, but neither of you shared the same classes nor were you in the same clubs. To make matters worse, the only time you saw one another was when either of you were coming or going.

Perhaps now was the time to finally make a move. 

Lifting your blanket off the pavement, you shuffle your way towards him. As you near him, it clicks in your head that you didn’t initially recognize him because, besides the lack of clothes and the slightly messy hair, he’s wearing glasses to boot. 

“Hey, neighbour.”  

Mark stops his searching and his focus lands on you. The handsome individual steps closer to shorten the space between you, displaying his signature smile. You grip onto your blanket tighter and the weight of your shoulders droop, allowing your face to shyly sink into the sea of fabric covering you. 

The shivering man says your name and replies with a cool, “Hey.” 

“Do you want to share the blanket with me?” 

“Oh, no. It’s okay, I’m all right,” he stammers with a shake of his head, continuing to rub his arms.  

You perk an eyebrow and open one of your arms out, offering him the promise of warmth. 

Beaming, you say, “There’s enough room for another.”

His mouth twists to one side of his face, the gears in his head obviously turning. 

“Are you sure?”       

A hum, nod, and a grin answer his uncertainty. Mark swiftly grasps onto the end of the blanket and wraps himself over his shoulder. Although the heat from the front of your body flees due to the partial sacrifice of your cover, you’re now having an extra source of heat from being right next to Mark, touching shoulder to shoulder. 

“Thanks,” he bobs his head. “I appreciate it. I just bolted out of bed and didn’t think of even bringing a jacket.” 

“That’s okay, that’s why you have me,” you joke, swaying and pressing your shoulder lightly against his. 

Both of you chuckle softly. There’s something else to add to the list of things that are keeping you warm—the prickling rising from your chest to your cheeks. 

You then comment, “I’ve never seen you with glasses before. I almost didn’t recognize you.” 

“Ah, yeah, I wear contacts during the day. Depending on stuff, I sometimes wear my glasses, but not as often.” 

“Well, I think you look good either way.” 

Your eyes practically fall and roll away from your head, cognizant of the words that just escaped your mouth. 

“I mean—” You snap your eyes shut for an extended beat, not wanting to see the look on your next door crush’s face. “You know what, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that out loud.” 

Exhaling a lengthy sigh, you turn to face the opposite direction, now regretting your offer to share your blanket with him. 

Your regret leads you to miss the way his face lights up. 

“Hey, no, thanks for the compliment.” 

Under the blanket, his fingers gingerly graze over yours for a fleeting moment, which causes you to shift your head towards him again. The tips of your noses are almost touching. His twinkling eyes are locked on you, but yours are veering everywhere else except on him. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you look good too.” 

With that, your gaze finally lands on Mark.  

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You want to continue the conversation, you really do, but you’re at a loss of words and are too busy getting lost in the galaxy of his eyes from up-close. From the way he’s not tearing his eyes away either, a little part of you wonders if he harbours an infatuation with you as well. He couldn’t possibly, right? 

Despite being practically strangers, the silent, intense aura blooms as time passes. Your respective breaths brush against each other’s lips and it’d be so easy to just lean in to meet the other’s—

Suddenly, the tension is cut short as everyone begins to sluggishly amble their way back into the building. 

Although nothing really transpired, you break apart simultaneously like someone caught you two doing something you shouldn’t. Mark lets you have your blanket all to yourself once more and both of you head back side by side in comfortable silence.  

After walking up the flight of stairs, trailing behind all the other residents of the building, you finally reach your respective doors. 

“It was nice to see you,” you say, pulling your keys out and inserting the fitting one into your lock. 

“Yeah, thanks for sharing your blanket with me. I really appreciate it.” 

“Anytime, neighbour,” you glance up at him from your hand. His whole body faces you and his mouth is agape like he’s itching to say something. On second thought, he presses his lips together and feels around his body for his keys. Realization hits him in the face. 

“Shit,” he bangs his forehead against the door, deterring you from entering your home abode. “I forgot my keys inside.” 

Mark turns to you with a scrunched face. Even in a state of frustration, how could someone be so cute? “Sorry to ask, but can I borrow your phone?” 

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You don’t hesitate to scramble and hand it over to him. 

He mumbles a quick thanks, rubbing the back of his head. When he finishes entering a number to dial-in, he holds the phone against his ear and leans the side of head against his door, still facing you. You stand there awkwardly, eyes wavering between the adorable phone borrower and the handful of people in the hallway trickling back into their dorms. 

After the third unanswered ring, a bold offer impulsively escapes your lips.  

“You know, you can stay at my place overnight if you need to.” 

Oh, no. Shit. Why brain, why?

You don’t register your brazenness until the fifth ring, when Mark’s jaw is hanging and his eyebrows are glued to the ceiling. Okay, maybe you can save the moment by saying it was a joke or—

“Hello?” you overhear a muffled grumble on the other end. 

The shock dissolves away from his face. “Oh, hey. Sorry to wake you, Johnny. It’s Mark…” 

Utter embarrassment. This time, you can’t save yourself from your impetuous words. Millions of possibilities run through your mind, including abandoning your phone for him to keep and then moving to another building. No, moving to another college. Actually, Mars sounds like an even better idea. 

You’re so deep in your overdramatic thoughts, your face in a pinch behind your blanket, that you don’t even realize Mark’s already done with his call. 

“Thanks.” His voice breaks you away from your thoughts, eyelids shooting open. He must’ve stepped closer while you weren’t looking because he’s now in front of you, dangling your device from his fingertips. You gently grasp the phone, jointly holding it with him. 

“And about your offer…” You cringe, ready for him to ignore your existence until the end of time. You officially ruined everything, and nothing has even happened yet. 

“How about we go on a date first?” 

Your head shoots up at his proposition. Did you hear that right? 

“Then, maybe when the fire alarm goes off again next time and I forget my keys, I’ll take you up on it.”

It could be because it’s almost 4am and you’re teetering on sleep, or you’re purely stricken, but all you could do is nod mindlessly and squeak, “Sure.”    

A heartstopping smile rolls over his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. I took the liberty of adding myself to your contacts and sent a text to my phone.” 

Mark releases your phone from his grip and begins to walk backwards towards the stairs, suppressing his desire to stay with you for a little while more. But, it’s late and it’s not like this was the last time he’d see you. You are neighbours after all. 

Waving, he whisper-shouts in the hallway, “I’ll text you back first thing when I can. Have a good night!” 

You subtly wave back, still huddling your blanket over your shoulders. When he disappears from your line of sight, you enter your room and flop onto your bed with a jubilant sigh. 

Following knocks at his door, a slit-eyed Johnny is welcomed by a vivacious friend. Too vivacious for 4am. 

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. Remember that cute neighbour I’ve been telling you about?...” 

Maybe (and thankfully) there wasn’t an actual fire, but another one was certainly beginning to kindle. 

And neither of you had the intention of extinguishing it any time soon. 

[hermannsthumb]

nsfw prompt: hermann in lacy boxers. newt is verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry into it

Anonymous said: Follow up to the hermann's lacy briefs ask: newt wears tacky neon briefs and Hermann is Just As Into It

loosely inspired by a conversation I had with @k-sci-janitor the other night 👀 second part isn't AS incorporated, but, I did try. not sfw below cut! (but it's more of an M)

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

“Well, shit,” Newt says.

As far as lab accidents go, it’s not as bad as it could be. Neither of them are bleeding, for one thing. All their limbs are still intact. And only a very small portion of the lab is on fire, not even anywhere near Hermann’s shit, and Newt manages to deal with it before it spreads by deploying the emergency fire extinguisher in record time. True, their clothing is splattered with a very mild (non-lethal!) amount of kaiju blood, and true, it does sizzle worryingly at first (kaiju blood will apparently eat through cotton like nothing), but Newt’s grown very adept with dealing with these sorts of things. (He kind of has to—they happen every other day.) “In ya go,” he says to a stunned Hermann cheerfully, tugging him along to the decontamination shower by his elbow. “Don’t be shy.”

It takes Hermann a few seconds of pleasant silence to get over his initial shock, and then he begins bitching. “This is the final straw!” he declares, along with stuff like “I can’t take your incompetence much longer!” and “I will be submitting several complaints to the Marshal about this!”, and even smacks Newt’s ankles with his cane a few times. Once he realizes that there’s now a neat little hole burned into the front of his sweater, though, and an even larger one spreading by the shoulder, his complaints fade away into weak sputters, and he doesn’t make as much as a peep when Newt shoves him under the freezing spray.

“Sorry, dude,” Newt says. “How was I supposed to know kaiju blood was combustible?”

Hermann growls at Newt.

As per lab containment protocol, once the shower is turned on, the lock is engaged, and they’ll only be allowed to exit once they’re deemed sufficiently toxin-free by the...toxin-censors, or something. Newt's still not really sure how it all works. That, or, you know, if one of them punches in the override code. But that kind of takes a while, and Newt kind of did need a shower anyway, so he decides to just roll with it and let himself be sanitized. Better safe than sorry. Even though he’s pretty sure that blood was neutralized. Probably. It is a little worrisome that it was dissolving the fabric that fast, since Newt hasn’t had that happen to him before. “Okay, warning,” Newt says, “I’m gonna take off my clothes. You might want to, too. I’m not sure why that had the reaction it did but we probbbbably don’t want to get it on our skin.”

“No,” Hermann says.

“Tough luck, I’m gonna get naked,” Newt says. “It’s happening. You need to, too.”

“Absolutely not,” Hermann says.

“Safety protocol!” Newt shouts.

It’s hard enough to shimmy out of his skinny jeans bone-dry, but in the shower it may as well be impossible, especially since he forgot to take off his boots first. Also, it’s hard to move even a foot without bumping his ass against Hermann, and Hermann growls (like, seriously, what?) again each time he does. Newt finally succeeds in stripping down to just his undershirt and neon-green boxers, and since a quick once-over confirms his skin seems to be totally burn-free, and he can't feel any sort of excruciating pain that would suggest otherwise, he decides he’s fine to just stop there. No reason to needlessly flash Hermann his junk. When Newt turns around, he’s almost surprised to see Hermann in the exact same position as before: clutching the shower railing for dear life, his eyes fixed directly at the ceiling.

Oh—Newt’s dumb. Hermann left his cane outside. A wet shower is already potentially treacherous, but a wet shower without anything but a crappy railing to properly stabilize himself definitely is. “Okay, look, don’t take this the wrong way,” Newt says, “but can I help you undress? I just mean—it’ll probably be hard for you to do it like that.”

He points to Hermann’s iron grip on the railing. Hermann shakes his head.

“I would rather you not,” he says. He looks down at Newt's briefs, goes red in the face, and looks back up.

“Hermann, seriously.” Newt steps forward with a sigh and tugs on Hermann’s blazer. “It’s a safety thing. I promise I won’t look at your old man bloomers or long johns or whatever, you just seriously need to take this all off so I can make sure you’re not hurt.”

“Stop it, Newton,” Hermann grumbles, and then, when Newt gets the top few buttons undone, full-on snaps “Newton!” and pushes Newt away. "Get off of me."

Newt is not dealing with this shit right now. It's one thing for Hermann to be pissed at him when they have a whole lab between them and plenty of space to cool off, but crammed in to a tiny shower together where he's within arm's distance of a grumpy Hermann, who would probably joyfully throttle him at any moment, is just not how Newt wants to spend the next twenty or so minutes. Especially not when all he wanted to do was make sure Hermann wasn't getting literal acidic burns. It's a completely un-cool way to repay a kindness. “Fine!” he says, and throws up his hands. “Whatever! I don’t care. You always have to make everything weird."

Hermann glowers at him, which looks pretty silly, because it's hard to take him seriously with his hair plastered to his head like that. Then, (to Newt's surprise) he reaches a trembling hand up to his top button. “I will do it myself,” he says. “But please look away. I need—privacy.”

"Privacy," Newt echoes with a snort, but obliges. Anything to get Hermann to cooperate is a-okay with him. Once he's got his back to Hermann, he hears Hermann's clothing hitting the ground with a series of small wet splats against the tile. Blazer, sweater, button-down, pants. His belt jingles when it drops. Despite the chill of the water, Newt feels the back of his neck grow warm. Hermann is practically naked behind him. Newt doesn't think he's seen Hermann any nakeder than his pajamas before, once when they dragged themselves to LOCCENT at three in the morning for a kaiju alert system test run and he got an eyeful of Hermann in a dressing gown and slippers. Even that was almost too much for Newt. "Any burns?" he says over his shoulder.

"Er," Hermann says. "I think—"

"Well?"

Hermann is silent. "I'm not quite sure," he finally says.

Newt sighs. "Okay, just let me—"

Newt's scientist mode kicks in over his holy shit Hermann is semi-naked next to me mode (and, okay, maybe his protective over Hermann mode kicks in just a little too), and he turns to Hermann unthinkingly to assess any possible damage. And then freezes in place. Because, well. He's not sure what he expected—maybe Hermann scowling and shivering in some dorky little striped boxers and an undershirt, or maybe that he layers up on undergarments just like he does sweaters.

He is absolutely, one-hundred percent not expecting to see Hermann in a lacy blue pair of underwear and a matching bralette.

And, well. At least the water is cold. Newt doesn't like to think about what sort of physiological response his body might have otherwise.

As it is, Newt just sort of stares at Hermann. And his sexy underwear. Or maybe he gapes. He definitely does when he realizes that it's not just plain sexy underwear—both pieces have little gold stars embroidered across them—and it's simultaneously so cute and so much sexier that his knees begin to wobble, and he's worried he might pass out. Hermann stares back, chin raised almost defiantly, his jaw set hard. Neither of them speak.

Then Newt clears his throat and makes an attempt at it, because he's not sure what else to do if not play it cool. "Um," he squeaks. "Um. I don't—I don't see any burns." Newt does not look anywhere else on Hermann's body, so there's a good chance that's a lie. It's kind of hard to pull his eyes away. "Are you—do you—" He takes a deep breath. "Do you always...?"

"No," Hermann says. He works his jaw back and forth. "Well, go on, then."

"Go on what?" Newt says. Is Hermann sensing the (frankly) pornographic thoughts racing through Newt's head at a mile a minute and giving him permission to act on them? Because Newt doesn't have a problem with that. He 100% does not have a problem with dropping to his knees and begging Hermann to let him put his tongue on him through the lace, or groping Hermann's chest through the top...

"Tease me," Hermann says. In a sexy way? Newt wonders, because he can do that, and he's all set to start grabbing Hermann's ass or something when Hermann clarifies "I know you want to tell me how silly I look."

Oh. That's dumb. "Why would I do that?" Newt says. Before he can help himself, he blurts out, "Dude, you look fucking hot."

"What?" Hermann says.

The shower shuts off, and an alarm beeps twice as the door swings open. The emergency protocol seems to have ended. Neither Newt nor Hermann make a move to leave. "What?" Hermann repeats again, a little quieter. He's looking at Newt like he's grown a second head.

"It looks," Newt says, "um, hot. I like—" He feels himself blushing furiously. He's not sure where to stare—still at Hermann? Or does he force himself to turn his gaze to the floor or over Hermann's shoulder or something? He can see one of Hermann's nipples through the lace top. Oh, my God. "I like how it looks on you." (Insane understatement.)

Hermann falls silent again. "You do?" he says.

"Yeah," Newt says. "Do you—like, every day? Or?"

Hermann shakes his head. He's watching Newt with a carefully guarded expression, like he's still skeptical that Newt is telling the truth and isn't about to just start laughing at him or something. "Not at all," he says. "Er. This was rather unfortunate timing. It's—well, it's a way to feel more confident, I suppose, when I've had a rotten week."

Newt doesn't start laughing, of course. Newt inches closer. He likes the contrast of the dark blue against Hermann's skin, and he wonders how soft it is. He wonders if it would feel soft to him, too, if he touched it, or dragged his palms up and down Hermann's chest. He wonders if Hermann would like that. "I often," Hermann says, and then his voice trails off.

"Huh?" Newt says, somewhere to the vicinity of Hermann's belly button.

Hermann clears his throat. "I often think of you. What you would do, if you saw me this way, and..."

Newt finally snaps. "Can I touch you?" he says.

Hermann nods, the smallest, shyest little smile on his face. "If you'd like," he says.

[opal-nite]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter eight - “hovel, sweet hovel”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n arrive the shelter and take a look at what it has to offer.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: what would you like to see happen next? let me know! (p.s. this is what i pictured the shelter/hovel to look like)

"I think this is it," Bucky said, looking forward at the structure in front of them.

"That's the 'shelter?'" Y/N huffed, hopelessly annoyed.

They had been walking and jogging on and off for forty-five minutes straight. Her feet killed.

"We're... gonna die."

"We are not gonna die, Y/N."

"Look at it! That is a hovel!"

"Well, inside's better than outside," Bucky retorted. "At least no one will see us if we're in there. It looks abandoned, they'll assume it actually is.”

She sighed and followed behind Bucky into the shelter. It was a one story stone structure that looked so old and weathered. It... looked like a shed. An old ass stone shed. She briefly wondered if Wakanda had a storm season because she was almost certain this thing wouldn't withstand it.

The door let out an anticipated squeak, and she was just as disappointed to see the inside as she was the outside. Bucky put the bags down and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah... this... isn't great..."

It was just as small as it seemed. And empty. Mostly. There were a few withered shelves with dusty pots and bowls, and an even more withered attempt at a table. There was what looked like a furnace in one corner with old, rotted wood in it. The wooden floor creaked under their steps.

The whole place felt like a ghost: desolate, ancient, and lonely. Except for one peculiar thing...

"Bucky?" she beckoned.

"Hm?"

(Y/N) hadn't noticed it when she first entered, but in the middle of the table sat a small, shiny, black panther figurine. It posed on all fours, looking ferociously up at her. It looked so out of place in contrast of the eternal layer of dust on everything else.

"What is this?" she asked reaching for the one thing that didn't match.

When her hand wrapped around it, energy surged into her skin. It felt almost... alive.

"(Y/N) what-" Bucky was cut off by a sound that startled them both.

In the corner across from the furnace, a section of the floor starting moving. Wood on wood on stone was not a good sound. Nonetheless, in mere seconds, there was an opening, and if (Y/N) leaned forward, she could see stairs!

Both of them remained still, feet planted on the creaky floor. They immediately looked at each other.

"What did you do?"

"I'm... not sure. I think I opened it."

(Y/N) smirked.

"What?" Bucky asked, confusion clearly evident in his tone.

"I should've known," (Y/N) shook her head. "Shuri wouldn't have led us here unless there was something more."

She held the panther figurine as she walked towards the opening.

"Wait," he grabbed her arm. "We don't know that Shuri knew that was here. What if it's a trap?"

"A trap from who? I don't think anyone knows we're here except Shuri."

"I don't know. J-Just let me go first."

"Alright. After you, oh wise one," she acquiesced, voice sarcastic but endearing all the same.

Bucky tried to suppress a chuckle. "Smartass. You're the wise one."

She tried to go down the stairs, letting him go first, but apparently that wasn't enough.

"Wait, just let me go look around and I'll holler when it's all good."

"Holler? Who says holler?"

"Me. Wait here."

"Fine," she made a show of pointedly plopping down on the top step, still and waiting as he requested.

It only took about ten seconds.

"Woah..." his voice came from far away.

"What is it?!" (Y/N) leaned forward.

"You were right! Come down, you gotta see this!"

She wasted no time... and standing beside Bucky, her jaw dropped.

"Holy..."

Beneath the ground was a significantly larger, way more modernized, and highly advanced survival shelter. All equipped with smaller versions of a table, chairs, and cabinets, along with a compact freezer and miniature stove, a chest, a closet, and two sets of bunk beds. Everything was clean and looked in optimal condition. There was even a rug.

"Shuri definitely didn’t leave you with nothing," Bucky commented, still taking it all in.

"-us with nothing," she corrected, retreating back up to the shed to get the bags.

-

Later in the day, (Y/N) got a handle on the panther key and how to use it to open and close the entryway to the bunker. Once she figured it out, she kept it closed, ensuring their concealment and maximizing their safety.

Bucky had found his way into the closet, listing off the contents to (Y/N) who sat on the floor, back up against one of the bunk bed legs. She was exhausted. Her body had been assaulted by adrenaline and strenuous mortal-danger-physical-activity. Bucky seemed to be fine, though. Curse that super soldier serum. His energy was always so high.

"...oh, and here's the bedding stuff. I don't know what this is, though."

(Y/N) lethargically leaned her head over to get a good view of the closet.

She chuckled. "That's a space heater...Oh! And next to it - that's a portable AC. Makes sense. I doubt they could get electric or plumbing out here."

And her head rolled back to center, eyes closing, body exhausted.

Bucky seemed to notice. "Hey, if you're tired, I can make the beds...or at least yours if you wanna sleep now."

(Y/N) stretched her legs straight out in front of her. "No, that's okay."

She wasn't about to force her one armed friend to make a bed for her. That's just rude. Especially after he carried those bags. She felt bad; she wished she had done more.

"Nah, I don't mind. It's not like I got anything else to do," he insisted, bringing the bedding over.

(Y/N) stood, body internally complaining in aching protest. She didn't really have the energy to expertly persuade him.

"Buck, it's fine." Her voice was faint.

He didn't even stop to hesitate, seemingly determined on the task. She thought it better to just give up and let him do his thing since he was so set on it. However, the sheet was fitted and there were pillow cases, not really one-arm friendly assets. He was struggling... very clearly. (Y/N) felt even worse.

He started moving quicker, frustration jerking his arm in quick, irritated bursts as he was trying to get the sheet to stay. There was still no success.

She stepped forward gently. "Bucky..."

"Damn it!" he hissed, slamming his hand on the bed frame before forcefully standing up. His hand went to his forehead, rubbing his eyes in disappointment.

(Y/N) was a statue. She had never seen him mad before; she had no idea what to do. Don't get her wrong, she wasn't scared, she just wasn't sure what to say.

"Can't fuckin' do anything," he muttered under his breath.

She finally moved forward. "Hey, forget the bedding, it doesn't matter-"

"Yes it does," he turned. "We're hiding from a collapsed regime and I can't even make a damn bed. Plus you've done so much for me, I just wanted to help with something. I just wanted to be able to do something."

Oh. Suddenly, his anger was gone. It was replaced with a miserable helplessness. It made her chest tight; she needed to fix this.

"Buck, you don't owe me anything. I'm here because I wanted to help, not because I was expecting anything in return. And I don't know what you've been paying attention to, but I watched you carry the majority of those - heavy - bags the entire way here while simultaneously figuring out the way to the shelter while my brain was momentarily smooth. You were the voice of reason in that chaos we just escaped from, and it's a damn good thing you were so calm because I don't know if I could have handled the panic of the both of us."

"You could've," he murmured. "And I wasn't calm, I'm just used to this. I was trained for situations like this."

No, she wasn't going to lose to deflection.

"Regardless, you were a huge help. Seriously."

He still didn't look convinced.

"In fact, I feel more safe here with you than I would with Shuri and the Queen. You're like a super soldier body guard."

A look washed over his face that (Y/N) couldn't quite place. He looked at her quizzically, like he was trying to figure something out.

"You... feel safer with me?"

"That's what I said, yes."

"You're not like... worried about..."

"The Winter Soldier? No."

He sighed. "How can you be so sure? You have no idea if or when I might... you know."

"We are literally the only people here, and I don't plan on saying the trigger words. So unless you plan on saying them, I don't really think we have anything to worry about. And, even if you did 'you know,' you could definitely get away with it and no one would find the body."

He turned bright red. "What?!"

"I'm kidding! Sorry. But Bucky, you've been doing so well with me and Shuri, and honestly the Hydra programming might not even be there anymore."

"But we don't know for sure!"

"Bucky..." she pleaded, turning her head slightly as to say what is this about?

"I can't trust my own mind," he sighed looking at the floor. "I just don't wanna do anything bad. It's just - weird that you don't seem to be worried at all."

"Why is that?"

"Everyone sees me as a monster."

The room was dead silent. He wasn't looking at her, but if (Y/N) looked at him any harder, she was sure she'd burn a hole through his head. How could anyone see this man as a monster? Logically, she understood what other people saw. But personally, she couldn’t find it in her to perceive him like that. It just didn’t work. All she could find was gentleness, compassion, and sincerity.

"I can't see you as something you're not," she said, whisper soft. "I don't care if you hands are 'scarred from murder' or however you said it a few sessions ago. I trust them entirely."

He finally looked up at her, his face filled with something she couldn't quite place. It looked a bit like disbelief and then it changed into relief and then something else entirely. A slow smile crept up on his lips.

"...hand."

"What?"

"My hand. Singular. Not hands."

A deep, deep smile - to match the one on Bucky - grew on her face just before the pair started cracking up ridiculously. Perhaps this was an odd way of releasing the tension, fear, frustration, and exhaustion of the day. Nevertheless, laughter was cathartic. It was so cathartic that eventually (Y/N) could hardly catch her breath and Bucky's stomach hurt. This went on for several minutes.

In time, they both calmed down. She didn't remember when exactly it happened, but they were both sitting on the floor now. They sat in between the two bunk beds, facing one another, each back leaning against a respective bedpost.

The atmosphere was different now, but not in a bad way. It felt like 2 a.m. at a sleepover, when the conversations get drowsily deep, with slow voices and honest confessions. It was heavy eyelids and low inhibitions.

A fresh wave of exhaustion washed over her. She let her head fall slack against the bedpost, resting.

"Bucky, what were sleepovers like in the forties?" she asked softly, eyes closing ever so delicately. 

"Well," he started, getting into a story of his past with Steve and the couch cushions.

And that's how she fell asleep. Sitting on the floor, leaning against a bunk bed, and listening to his voice fade out into the background of her consciousness.

If only she knew how she would wake up: laying comfortably on one of the beds, with one blanket on top of her and another below her because he couldn't get the sheet to cooperate. With the pillowcase carefully draped atop the pillow instead of enveloping it because that's what one hand would allow. With the bed next to her being slept in with no blanket because he used his as the replacement for the sheet he couldn’t get to cooperate.

[captainxsassafras]

Showered in Love

E voila! My first piece of filth (hopefully of many, regardless of how long it takes my dumb ass to write it!)! I have no excuses, no reason other than I just want to take care of one (1) beautiful, dumb birdbrain. In whatever way possible. But we all came here to be horny, so horny it is! 🤣🤣🤣

But seriously, I hope you enjoy this entirely self-indulgent smut! I tried to keep the reader pretty neutral physicaly and focus more on the feeling, but please let me know if you notice anything there I might have missed or that I could improve on! Ask or dm, just please be respectful and polite! I'm new so I'm sure I have ways I could improve and I'm open to editing/updating to make it more inclusive! 💗

Warnings: explicit, handjob, shower sex, very subby Keigo, nipple play, body worship (?), real tender smut, comfort sex

And here you go! Tagging some people who might be interested!

@queensynderella @heyitswhiplash @lovekeigo @keilemlucent @keiqos

It had been a hard day.

Not for you. Your day had been ordinary in every sense. Nothing alarming or even really exciting had interrupted the normal scheme of your work schedule. You had arrived home a bit tired, but in an innocuously pleasant mood and put an easy to make casserole in the oven before working on the various little chores that helped keep the apartment clean.

You had been in the middle of moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer when he’d come in.

He had used the window.

That wasn’t ominous by itself. He used the window more often than not. The large window with the spacious balcony had been a must have when the two of you had bought the place and was a much more frequent feature of take off than the intended front door to the place. You probably would have been more concerned if he’d actually used that door.

Ok, that wasn’t true. You were just making morbid mental jokes to ease your own tension.

You weren’t scared.

You were worried.

You were sad.

You were hurting.

Because… he was.

An anxious little ball was twisting knots in your stomach. Crinkles marked the edges of your eyes as you turned off the oven and stood at the counter, contemplating his arrival.

He didn’t call out to you when he came in.

That should have been the first clue.

Keigo always called out to you when he arrived home unless he knew you were already asleep. It amazed you that he was constantly excited to see you when he got home. The light in his eyes traveled across his entire voice and even lightened his voice, taking his normal boyish sarcasm and lifting it to almost child-like wonder. The happy way he greeted you made your heart dance like a butterfly every single time.

But he didn’t this time.

He’d surprised you. You’d nearly jumped out of your skin when he first walked by. Silent as a ghost, you’d only noticed the movement out of the very corner of your eye and adrenaline had shot through your veins. You whipped around into a low stance, ready to fight God and the universe if they were attacking you in your own home. But God was nowhere to be found.

Keigo had stood, frozen to the spot, looking at you with blank eyes and an uncomprehending expression. It felt like the world had stopped. Not in a figurative, emotional sense. He had just been so still that you weren’t sure the world hadn’t stopped with him. You stood, unmoving and waiting for Keigo to move. Say hello. Give you a hug. Anything.

He didn’t.

And you knew something was wrong.

“Kei,” you’d breathed, moving to rush over to him and engulf him in your arms.

“Dove.”

You stopped.

The strangled, heavy sound of his voice sent a shiver down your back even now. God, it grated on your heart. Simultaneously beaten by an unspeakable harshness and weighed down by all the abyssal truths you knew he carried like Atlas.

Without another word he’d passed by, red wings trailing on the floor behind him in evidence of his exhaustion. That was… different.

The click of the bathroom door closing had broke your heart to pieces.

The sound of the shower starting was normally soothing, but today it was just another layer to the tension that had swept into the apartment on crimson wings.

And now he had been in there for twenty minutes.

Keigo was not a long shower person. Didn’t like wasting water. Which was a convenient excuse to shower together, but also how he really felt about it. He was just too impatient and showering wasn’t one of those things he liked to devote his sparse time to.

But he was still in there.

With pursed lips, you took the casserole from the oven and found a spot in the fridge. Another night. The dryer was started and before you could let the hurt surrounding Keigo scare you off, you went to him.

The bathroom door opened noiselessly to your touch. A waft of steam wet your face and you could feel the intense heat of the room within seconds. A purring, mechanic whirr from the fan masked the sound of the door closing, but you were sure Keigo knew you were in there. His feathers wouldn’t have missed the vibrations of the door, even dampened by the buffer of the water.

You were quiet as you undressed. Eyeing his clothes piled randomly across the floor, you went to the cabinet in the corner and brought out something you’d been saving for a treat. Tender eyes flicked to Keigo.

A spike of worry knotted your chest.

He hadn’t moved since you’d entered the bathroom.

He was just standing, water colliding with his bare skin and streaming down his frame to join the small pool at his feet. You wished you could fully appreciate the sight of his naked body. You wished you felt better about being able to see drop after drop caress every plane and curve of his skin. He was so gorgeous.

But your heart wasn’t in the heated looks you wanted to send.

You entered the shower slowly, taking care not to slip on slick tiles. The extra treat was deposited on the shelf full of soap, shampoo, and other hygiene products.

He was so warm as you slipped your arms around his torso and molded your body into the curve of his back. Your hands clasped, pulling him close. And for a moment you just stood, as close physically as you possibly could be. It didn’t feel like enough. His mind was far away still, lost in the echoes of some terrible, terrible secret he could never tell you. Soft cadences of breathe left you drowning in the feeling of him, letting your mind drift away from the thoughts of those secrets and bringing your own worries back to the very real man held so closely before you.

Keigo often complained about his lack of height and how he wished he had more back muscle, but you loved the lean, corded muscles. They were perfect to you. You also loved the fact that you could lay your head perfectly into the curve at the back of his neck and murmur into his ear.

“Hey there, feathers.”

He pooled into your touch and the tension drained away with those wandering rivulets of water. It wasn’t completely gone but the edge was softened. It was a butter knife now, useful but it wasn’t going to cut you for getting too close.

“Dooove.”

This time, when his voice came out strangled it was less… heartbreaking.

“Yes, love?”

No answer. Maybe he needed a bit of help.

“Do you need something.”

A single, slow nod.

You breathed into the feel of him. “Do you need me to take care of you?”

Oh god. The tiniest, strangled whimper kissed your ears as Keigo nodded again, leaning back into your frame. The shower-wet feathers of his wings pressed themselves into your body. You could feel them against every warm, vulnerable inch of flesh. A quick shift left your wandering fingers trailing downward across his abdomen dangerously. Feathers ruffling against your body had you biting your lip and holding back a moan. Those fingers found the wet, curled hairs that framed his groin and the moan ripped free, settling on the weight of anticipation. The feathers on his wings positively shivered while you traced the tight swoops of those golden curls. You knew them well, but still loved twirling your hands through them. A bit more wiry than the hair on his head, they were still surprisingly soft and springy. Keigo assured you he loved your own curls, but the downy feel of his never ceased to make you the slightest bit jealous.

Wet flashes of red spun out the corners of your eyes as his wings shuddered and shifted against the onslaught of your hands teasing through Keigo’s hair. He cried out as your left hand reached up to card through the wet hair on his head. You matched the twirling of each hand, one at his brow and one at his groin and groaned loudly into the crook of his neck. His feathers were dancing against your skin.

Fortunately, you weren’t the only one making noise.

Pain mixed with pleasure as you kneaded your bottom lip. You reveled in the sweet, sweet noises that left Keigo’s throat with each tender swirl of your hand. They were soft, high, and so very needy. So very perfect.

“Keigo.” You placed gentle kisses into the space behind his ear. “I’m here to help, to take care of you. But I need to know what you need.” More kisses. “Do you want me to wrap you up in a blanket and feed you your favorite food? Or do you need to fuck this out?”

A moan escaped that was dangerously close to a whine.

“Ohhh, I love it when you cry for me, babe. But I need your words right now.”

“Fucking.” His words were full of heat and light with breathlessness.

“Ok, love. What kind? Fuck me senseless?” You paused, waiting for a reaction. Nothing notable. Your tongue found your lips as you considered your next words and the actions they might lead to. “Do I need to take care of my good boy?”

He went still. The sound that echoed across the empty bathroom tiles was the stuff of fantasy. You felt yourself clench and knew at that moment exactly what he needed.

“Mm, ok.” You moved away and delighted in the way Keigo’s entire body followed, trying to sink back into your hold. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you, love.”

And he stayed where he was, so still you couldn’t believe it save for the heaving of his chest and nearly imperceptible trembling of his wings. You placed a kiss to the edge of his feathers and reached blindly behind you to grab the treat from before.

He sighed into the contact.

It wasn’t anything quite that special. Just a body wash that you knew Keigo particularly liked. The smell always had him burying his head in whatever piece of skin was available, to fold himself in the scent. It had been backordered for several months and you’d gotten your hands on it as a surprise for your lover. You’d planned to bring it out on some sort of special, happy day, but today it seemed like the perfect little surprise to pamper him with.

Covering your hands with the gel, you encompassed him again and started with washing his shoulders. Gentle hands smoothed over hot skin and worked at the tight muscles.

A gasp ran through his body when the smell reached him.

“Dove, you’re spoiling me.”

Hands slid to his back, carefully avoiding the sodden wings. Those got a special treatment and didn’t take well to body wash. Not friends with the mundane, human hygiene products.

“And?” You nearly sang. His tight ass was next and you knelt behind him to take your time carefully washing down each leg. Every curve and crevice was gently attended to. He whined as you swept your hands within touch of each area he wanted you to stroke most. Naturally, you pulled away as soon as it seemed like you might actually touch him there. Deep melodious laughter filled the spaces between his high, endless keening. You could tell the moment he felt your breath smoothing over the supple curve of his ass. The resounding whines cut off abruptly and the intense, broad heaves of his chest quickened and almost fluttered.

You hovered.

He stopped breathing entirely.

You began to stand and as you did, you placed a sweet, yet scorching kiss to the soft plane of each beautiful, taut, trembling ass cheek.

That earned you a whiny, desperate laugh. The chuckle choked off as soon as you melded into his body again, hands sliding around to cup his pecs.

You breathed into his ear and with each gentle word, your hands swept across his chest in ever tightening circles, slowly closing in on the sweet little jewels at the center. “If I’m taking care of you, it’s my job to spoil you. Don’t you think?” Tender fingers found his nipples, already pert and ready, and rolled the little buds in soapy circles.

His moans strangled and stuttered. Grasping hands reached back, clawing at something, anything, to hold to. He needed an anchor. He needed grounding in the midst of every bit of mind-numbing pleasure roiling and writhing through his weary nerves. He found your hips and clung like a man drowning, gasping for air and up to his head in a river of luxuriant ecstasy. He never wanted to surface again. He would drown in this flood of euphoria if you’d let him.

You slowed with his nipples when you felt his hips begin to make messy, haphazard, not-quite thrusts into thin air.

You knew without a doubt that your beautiful bird could and would cum right here without a single bit of direct stimulation to his cock. He was so worked up, you could see clearly in your mind the moment he’d burst, spreading hot cum all over from just the endless, maddening rolling of his nipples. It made you clench and squeeze like mad just to think of it.

But that wasn’t quite what you wanted. And you could tell it wasn’t quite what Keigo needed. Ok, you thought it wasn’t the right thing for him, but you felt like you had a pretty good grip on what this wonderful man needed at the moment. And he had put his trust in you. He had given over to you the gift of taking care of him. He had surrendered the responsibility of deciding himself what he needed and given that to you. You would never betray that trust by doing something you didn’t think was to his direct and utmost benefit. Or to his highest pleasure.

Your boy trusted you and you were going to take care of him thoroughly.

Previous conversations and past experience had revealed that, while the nipple orgasms were overwhelming and utterly consumed him with rolling, trembling waves pleasure, they weren’t as wholly sating as direct stimulation. They left him boneless and weak, but not finished.

You wanted him absolutely wrung out.

Those half thrusts quickened and you left his nipples alone.

He was too overwhelmed to even complain.

“Good boy.” Wandering hands ventured south. “My sweet, wonderful good boy.”

His head lolled back and wings twitched weakly at the feeling of your fingers in his curls again. However, you didn’t linger in those cute little whirls of hair for long. You had a prize to find.

And find it you did.

He was so hard you couldn’t help but bite your lip in excitement. Deep, reaching breaths wracked his torso as your hands moved down his cock at a torturous pace. As it was, several seconds passes before you found your way to the very tip. God, he was leaking. Mapping out the contours of his gorgeous, aching cock, you felt around the head and spent the time to rub at the slit as slowly as possible. Back and forth, over and over, relishing the tiny, twitchy thrusts that accompanied the motion.

A long, shaky, drawn-out whine from Keigo filled your head and you nearly lost it as the feeling of a fresh spurt of precum met your thumb.

“Oh, oh. My precious, precious boy. You like that so much, don’t you?”

“Yee-eeees!” Without warning, his hips canted forward just the slightest creating friction across the tip.

Oh, that was enough. He was ready to burst and deserved the reward of a full-force orgasm. What a magnificent, wonderful man. And he was all yours to equally ruin and cherish with each maddening stroke.

Without warning, you began the move your hands up and down the length of his cock.

Keigo’s reaction was instant. The long, never-ending whines raised in pitch and shortened, creating a rhythm in time with your stroking. His breathing became chaotic, devolving into a staccato mess of sharp, desperate gasps and bone-deep, shuddering exhales that reached into your core and drove you wild. And through it all, his wings pitched in erratic, arrhythmic twitches he couldn’t even begin to control. Starting at the top, where you nibbled and teased the sensitive skin connecting back to wing, they ruffled and writhed in waves all the way down to the feathers at the very tips.

It was a wonder to watch, but your attention was soon drawn back to his face. You could only see the edges standing behind him, but you knew your bird and you knew what he looked like when he was lost like this. His faces were rapturous. Brow scrunched, eyebrows tilted up. If his eyes were open, they’d be lifted skyward like he was praying to some unknown god of divine ecstasy. If they were closed, the corners would be crinkled. Every now and then, they’d crinkle even more, squeezing tight as he was undone by his own body. His head was angled back, leaning against your shoulder. He was too encompassed by the feel of your hands on his cock to keep his head up. But that was ok. More than ok. He didn’t need to keep himself up. That’s what you were here for.

His mouth was hanging open. That you could see. Soft, lush lips slack and loosing the melodic aria of fucked out whines to cascade around you like a filthy sonnet.

Those adorable, overwhelmed whines reverberated through Keigo and into your frame, consuming your mind with the sensuous joy of utterly ruining the gorgeous man leaning against you. The one struggling not to fuck himself into your hands. He was so good.

“C’mon, big boy, move for me.”

And he did, like the perfect man he was.

God, you loved to see him fuck himself senseless into your hands. You loved seeing him drive himself to that ultimate high while you got to coo praise into his ear and feel the way he throbbed and thrust with each tender, adoring word.

One of your hands left his dick and returned to torture his nipple.

God, you almost came right there.

Everything synced.

The stroking of your hand across the length of his aching cock, the squeezing of his sensitive, budded nipple, the endless, rasping circle of reaching breaths. The instant your hand found that pretty little bud, the thrusting of his hips shifted into a circular, full torso roll. They undulated in an involuntary, uninhibited dance of fucked out delirium. And the uncontrolled twitching of his wings changed to match, exactly, the rhythm of his hips. They beat in overwhelmed circles perfectly in sync with the smooth, svelte, seeking roll of Keigo’s hips into the tight grip of your hand.

And then he was lost.

He shattered. He was consumed.

A thousand pieces of brilliant, fiery, piercing pleasure shot through him and wrapped around his very center. A glorious flood overtook his senses and it was all he could do to stay upright with each roiling wave stronger than the last. Hot, white cum shot out and coated the shower wall and floor, rope after rope arcing with the crest of each radiant spike of pleasure.

As for you?

You came almost in unison, the orgasm a pleasant surprise. When Keigo came, his wings went utterly wild; shivering, shaking, twisting, ruffling, writhing. The sudden friction of unexpected stimulation combined with the height of desire you achieved from driving Keigo to Nirvana pushed you over that knife’s edge into a slow, deep, yet surprisingly powerful orgasm.

And there the two of you were, both glued to each other, hips undulating in a carnal dance of mind-numbing orgasm until finally, finally the two of you slowly began the careful descent from bliss. You buried your face in his neck and focused on the sensual feeling of two bodies moving against each other, labored breaths adding extra friction in the aftermath. Warm, milky cum gushed over your hand. Keigo’s cock was still oozing and his hips still jerking in tiny, uncoordinated rolls.

Humming into his skin, you relaxed into the cool down. That was so fucking sexy.

You let go of his softening dick before he could accidentally overstim himself. Not tonight.

However, you couldn’t help but keep your hand on his nipple, twisting and peeking down to see how his hips jolted weakly with each tweak of the perky bud.

You clenched as you caught sight of his softened cock spurting little bursts of seed with each tweak.

After a minute or so, you let up. It was time to let him come down.

But you didn’t let go of him. Instead you wrapped your hands tight around him, reveling in the feel of his breath slowing. A final, deep, shuddering exhale had him leaning back against you, completely boneless in your tender arms.

“Dove.” Keigo’s head turned and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he breathed against your skin.

“Mmm, don’t mention it.” Tired arms squeezed a little tighter in their embrace. “You all good? Or do you need to be fucked up a little bit more?”

His chuckle danced through both of your bodies. “I’m good, lovebird. You got me real good.” He wiggled around to face you. It was his turn to circle you in his arms, pull you close, bask in the way you molded to his body, melting into his hold. He kissed your hair and the two of your stayed that way for a while, spent and sated and utterly content together.

Keigo broke your silence, low voice weaving through the sound of the shower and caressing your ears.

“You know what I am good for though?” He paused, but didn’t wait for a real response. Which was good, because you hadn’t planned on anything beyond a wordless grunt. “You, me, some delivery, no clothes, and the fluffiest blankets we own.”

You hummed into his neck.

“Lights down low, we eat some food, then we snuggle together as close as two people can without fucking.”

A peal of laughter caught the tired edges of your voice. “Ah, you almost made that sweet.”

He spluttered. “That was super sweet!”

“Almost.”

“Entirely.”

“Mmm.” You dipped your head without warning and took his sensitive nipple into your mouth, pulling at it lightly with your teeth.

Keigo’s entire body spasmed, still sensitive in the wake of his earlier orgasm. His dick twitched against your torso as he groaned deep down inside his throat.

“Careful, babybird, or I’ll ruin you again.”

He whined at the pet name and crushed your body even closer.

Looks like he wasn’t as fucked out as he thought.

Your lips twitched in a small smile as you grabbed his ass, pulling him almost unbearably tight against you, and continued teasing his nipple with your teeth. Grinding slowly on his hardening cock, you drowned yourself in the sublime sound of his resounding moans.

[lloydskywalkers]

Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.