#//i like diving into rens brain

[cupacoat]

Being a Link Click fan is getting stuck in our collective time loop where we rewatch scenes over and over again for the 091305th time and being like “damn this is so depressing and gay” as though it somehow exponentially increases the gay depression level each time we rewatch it

it’s also about refreshing any link click tag again and again because we’re somehow starved for content

it’s ALSO ALSO about over analyzing every little detail in every little thing after the season 2 finale reveal

It’s ALSO ALSO ALSO about forgetting shiguang is part of the shows name and doing a double take every time you hear the word out of context in official content

[plumadot]

eyyyy paladin Martyn in your dnd au we're twinning :D ive also got a (loosely) dnd au w Martyn as a paladin it's such a good class for him so im always excited to see other ppl use it in their aus. and oath of the crown w Ren is so good i love that

if you don't mind me asking, you have any more thoughts for Ren and Martyn?

-liloinkoink (on anon bc it's a sideblog)

YEAH!!!!!! idk i think paladins can be sneaky little shits if they want to. as a treat :D

ok so i've done a little thinking about this (please don't expect much, literally all of my thinking is "little")

so like. i'm still not 100% on this but i think i want martyn to be a triton to keep the mean gills energy alive (even though scott and him aren't REALLY connected (yet? can my brain make this happen simply because i like it? idk))

ANYWAY i've been thinking he was raised by clerics of the listener (a group bigb is also a part of) and assigned as a holy knight to noble ren at a pretty young age. their bond has always been kinda different in that ren doesn't only fully trust martyn but also treats him with the respect he'd afford a friend, despite them having very different statuses. they spend almost all of their time together :) and once ren dives more into his family's past and uncovers hidden ties to the infamous red king, martyn's the first person he tells about it!! and of course martyn wants nothing more than for ren to become the powerful and benevolent ruler he knows he's meant to be ~ <3

[riacte]

Yeah yeah TNT trap but one bit of the stream that absolutely fascinated me was the neighbours solidarity between Ren Iskall and Beef. Ren and Beef freaking out over Iskall running back and targeting False if they ever let sight of him. Ren's brain having dived into a "it's us against them" mentality and being anxious around the mountain people because of course he does that, it’s his favourite hermit’s life on the line. Of course he would see as some sort of war even though nothing happened. Ren naming their voice chat group something boring and nondescript like “neighbourhood planning” so no one would join. He’s both still Ministering and keeping up with the theatrics by pretending to be in a so painfully boring meeting. Neighbourhood mafia boys trying to kill Bdubs (for False). Iskall being like lmao you guys are stupid. Lol. Anyways.

And it was so funny how when the trap was done, they were like ahhaha lol see you guys later. Or never. We never knew each other.

AND THEN BDUBS LOGGED ON.

Which naturally freaked everyone out. And what was fucking funny is that other people like Grian, Joe, and Hypno were online and aware of the scheme. They even made references to it in chat. Grian and Joe at least were watching Ren’s stream, because of course he was streaming a top secret operation (and Beef later was like WHY ARE YOU EVEN STREAMING and Ren was like 🥺 this is why I’m a bad reaper). But I don’t think anyone snitched. Everyone acted normal, if not nosy.

The part of the stream that charmed me and gave everyone the impression of “oh, we’re REALLY in it now” was when Ren was alone in his Gigahut and someone whispered to him about Bdubs being on. And those three neighbourhood members met up in Ren’s hut and just sat there panicking and talking about Bdubs. It was so tense. They were the image of three scared whimpering people huddled together on a sofa in the relative safety of their neighbourhood (far away from Bdubs’ trap). (On a side note, I’m always glad when builds are somehow the backdrop for dramatic and tense moments because the build instantly feels lived in and the space feels used. Like there’s a core memory attached to the build now.)

And in the end, they decided to venture out to spy on Bdubs. Which they did for an hour. With spyglasses and crouching. And Ren, good old Ren, was pushed centerstage because he was the second reaper to ever exist and still hadn’t gotten a kill AND he was dead set on supporting his False, and since it was the final two, Bdubs has to go.

Watching the hermitchat go by while those three were intensely studying Bdubs like a nature documentary was hilarious. Seemingly nondescript discussions. The trio panicking and then Grian sent out “have faith”, which might be in reference to G’s own fishing thing but the trio took it as a double message for their own plan (since G was watching the stream). All the whispering. It’s killing me. And False logging on, mostly unprotected (because they were all away!!) and Cleo being like yayy I have no allegiance to False I’ll blow up whatever <3 And False saying she needed a miracle and those three were like WE ARE TRYINGGG (False was aware the three were trapping). Ren’s refusal to say something in chat because he’s a red name and he’s tense.

Ren had to be the one to activate the trap (even though Beef was the one who suggested it and Iskall laid out the redstone). SO the other two had to leave him alone while they engaged Bdubs in discussion so Ren could sneak in and blow them up. Our poor reaper had to fly solo with 2.9k people on his stream. “It’s just you and me, chat”. He’s sat there for three hours. He’s missing dinner.

AND BEEF YELLING AT REN TO ACTIVATE THE TRAP WAS SO STRESSFUL. Even when the ruse was up, and even when Beef and Iskall were like hahaha Ren you SUCK so bad, Ren continued with his last shred of hope and absolute last shred of dignity. He lied. And Beef was probably like 👀 Ren hasn’t given up yet! Gotta distract Bdubs more!

I haven’t watched much Beef before this but now I’m quite charmed with him. He’s great with improv, fucking hilarious to bounce off with, and kept calm and steady throughout the operation. I love how him and Iskall had to hold Ren back from charging in like a madman and blowing himself up because doggy self sacrificial tendencies. Beef was the brains and common sense. And I love how supportive he was of Ren the entire time.

🥺 Beefrenskall. The trappers. The neighbours. Flying high their banner for False. Wanting to be a miracle for her. 🥺🥺🥺

[evermourning]

howdy, ren! Had to dive into my notes and to pinterest for some inspo lol

maybe it isn’t really original, but a while back i saved in my notes full-on oneshots i made in a 3 hour long flight about how some members in skz would meet their future s/o on board…?

I remember for Chan i wrote that he helped them deal with an annoying passenger and then they sat together and played games on his phone, for minho they helped him bc he got a bit afraid when turbulence struck, with hyunjin they drew eachother by accident and mistook/swapped sketchbooks when they woke up…

but i got blocked with my dearest quokka! any thoughts?

it could also be regarding other members, or using any of the scenarios I thought :P

hope you like this! waiting for your ask! <33

WAIT YES THIS IS SO CUTE! OMG 😭 THIS IS SO CRAZY CAUSE I JUST BOUGHT PLANE TICKETS TODAY HELP! HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS ON HANNIE, BUT IF U WANT AN OT8 VERSION JUST ASK!!!

jisung - it was just his luck. of course it had to be him, boarding a flight all by himself. there had been some schedule mixups, chan had told him, a reassuring smile on his lips as he rested one hand on jisung's shoulder. he had a photoshoot, so the other two members of 3racha would fly over the day before.

a pout crossed his face as he sat by the window, mentally going over all of his life choices up until then. did the photoshoot have to be yesterday? now, he was all alone, nothing but the fearful thoughts festering in his brain to keep him company. he didn't want to panic, it wouldn't be good. it would be downright bad. but the staff would take the open seat next to him...right?

wrong. the staff was on the other side of the damn aisle, spouting some excuse that the seat was already taken, since it was a full plane. he stared at the vacant seat, its imaginary passenger haunting his hippocampus. would they be mean? would they recognize him? what would happen?

"excuse me...is this row two, seat b?" a voice, soft and gentle, resonated in his ear. he turned to face the voice's owner, not paying them any attention.

"yeah, i'm in seat a, so- oh my god."

his jaw was dropped. you were the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen. your face, your breathtaking eyes, your supple skin, all entrancing him with minimal effort. in every lifetime, he would travel the world for even a glimpse of your ethereal beauty. his cheeks were so red he almost looked feverish, his eyes wide.

"okay, great! thank you so much, and um...could you help me with my suitcase? i've never been good at getting it into the compartment..." you grinned sheepishly, and jisung shot out of his seat like a rocket.

he was so dorky, tripping over himself as he easily lifted your luggage into the compartment. this was going to be a fun trip.

[mizumech]

Day 2: Cover/Crown

Hey, it’s mizumech’s day 2 entry for Treebarkweek 2023! The title of this work is ‘Take Cover’ and it is 1560 words long! Again, this may or may not be uploaded to ao3 after the event and I reserve the right to edit later.

This fic is really, really weird. Martyn is barely in it, to be honest. The main supporting character is a berry bush.

TW: Injury, Altered state of consciousness (?), potential psychedelics

-

The sirens are wailing loud for everyone to hear. 

“Take cover,” the more proactive ones yell, “Take cover!”

Ren scrambles to his feet. His van had recently been completely wrecked by aircraft artillery, leaving with warping metal, shattered glass, but most importantly redstone, pipes, and a nuclear core.

He’s heard those sell well on the black market. And by the way things are looking, he should sell them off soon.

As good as the nuclear core and redstone make his economic prospects look, holding those make people less likely to harbour him in their bunkers, which makes his survival prospects look dismal, if anything,

Not that he blames them. If he had seen a grimy person crawling to his doorstep clutching a poison-green sphere of energy with redstone in their hair, he definitely would have had second thoughts.

Well, he needs to go, and go he shall. He makes sure the core is still intact before hugging it close and setting off.

As he walks, he takes stock of the inventory he has. He has…one mending book, a flint and steel, cellotaped glasses, the clothes on his back, the nuclear core, redstone, pipes, soap from a kind host, some unknown food from a supply drop…

He has a flower crown. Not helpful, but comforting anyways. He remembers the hands which had twisted those into shape and kept it alive with some unknown magic and that face gives him strength.

His heart screams the name, loud and clear, and it's one only he can hear. 

“Exsqueeze me,” he says as he weaves through the pandemonium.

~

The roads where he lives have all been torn out, in a bid to keep them all in one area to make better targets, but he’s heard rumors.

He’s heard rumors of a path to follow, through the brambles on the outskirts and marked by everyone who had undertaken the journey.

He remembers Etho telling him about it; almost delirious, hands pricked and red.

“Hey, Ren!” He had said, human eye heavily dilated, “Have y—ya seen Side Kit recently? I found a huge patch of berries for her. I’ve got…a way…out!”

Ren knows better than to trust the words of an intoxicated (?) man, but high for the rest of his life is better than not having the rest of his life, right?

He’s heard of friends who have hopped the bramble and escaped the siege, but he’s…not going to get his hopes up.

The sirens are continuing to go off, and Ren slips his headphones on.

He has berries to find.

~

It’s not really about finding the bramble bush. That’s simple enough. 

He remembers doing LARPing in adolescenthood near those bushes, with the brambles acting as defensive walls to a made-up kingdom and the flowers and thorns acting as a crown.

Those brambles were just as home as the van before its fiery death.

It’s really about taking cover. Even through the headphones he can hear explosions. 

And then he sees a plane dip down so close Ren thinks the pilot could definitely see him through the foliage. 

He panics.

He runs, runs, runs, core nearly shattering after hitting the copper pipe one too many times.

There is no contingency plan in his brain because all he can think about is barb-wire berries and LARPing as his feet fall heavy like metalwork.

In the midst of all that, he remembers to hold on to his flower crown because the hands that made it belong to his Hand.

Martyn.

The plane seems to continue to chase him, diving lower and lower, trailing black smoke.

His heart pounds with the name.

Martyn, Martyn, Martyn.

Martyn, his Hand, with him through thick and thin, through both Battles of the Banners.

He stumbles on train tracks. Right. He should’ve known. Even as a child the rail that went through the now bramble grove had been decommissioned, but the fifteen years between his childhood and his LARPing had been enough for new life to grow.

Ren knows he definitely should step off the rails, but it vaguely soothes his brain to run on the same path as a train once did. If he follows the train tracks, he cannot get lost. 

Somewhere in his haze of fear, he registers the sheer amount of alliums that have grown around the tracks.

They’re good food. Good for picnics and any survivalists.

That of which he is not. Martyn always was the one doing the survival. He was the one who knew how to pick out bugs from the berries and which flowers were poisonous.

If he thinks hard enough. he can probably remember what exactly Martyn twisted into his crown.

~

Somehow, he reaches the brambles. There is a gate that someone seems to have installed for the berries to grow over and to keep out mobs.

He plucks one and eats it. Juice runs down his chin as sweetness explodes in his mouth.

He takes a breath. Sky looks clear. Even if he’s sweating in places a man ain’t supposed to sweat. He turns back to the gate.

Ren quickly looks it over. There’s a poppy, and a lilac. There’s a maple leaf, but that’s definitely not Etho.

Void knows Canadians take every opportunity not to draw a maple leaf.

He pries away a huge mound of vines. A creeper face.

That’s Etho.

Pain shoots up his arm as he releases the brambles. Right. Thorns.

Well, he’s gotta do it again because he needs to figure out how to unlatch the gate.

Why does he do this to himself?

Martyn would know how to unlock this, he thinks, In fact, Martyn probably already unlocked this twice.

He fumbles with where the metal meets the wood, squinting through the pain.

Ren distracts himself by juxtaposing. 

The time Martyn whacked him at the back of his neck with his LARP-axe hurt more.

(That’s not true.)

Is everything getting a little…hazy?

There’s another explosion in the distance.

Ren does his best to distract himself. 

“Just Grian and Scar,” he says softly as he steadies the crown on his head.

And suddenly, he hears the sound of a motor sputtering and what suspiciously sounds like a plane propeller coming to a halt.

He falls back into that useless frenzy, only this time his heart is racing and eyes are painting his surroundings with some sort of chromatic aberration.

It feels like he’s just smoked fifteen joints at once and then lit the ends like a firework. 

What does he need to do?

Take cover.

Right!

He quickly throws himself to the ground.

On second thoughts, that…was stupid and he was possibly a big idiot.

The nuclear core might’ve also fractured.

Welp, what is cellotape for? 

He tears the strip off his glasses and sticks it over the crack.

Ren scans the horizon. He can hear footsteps, and they match the beat of his heart.

It no longer calls Martyn’s name. It instead calls ‘danger, danger’.

Some faraway coughing ensues.

He looks at the berry bush, bristling with thorn.

Ren dives for it, plunging himself deep within the mound and holding back a sob as the thorns pierce through his jeans and flesh.

And it’s still not enough. He knows he’s barely covered in plantlife.

He grits his teeth and risks moving his arms around, internally screaming as the wounds in his arms begin to tear.

The inventory of his baggage rings clear in his mind.

Suddenly, a painful, terrible, idea comes to him.

He rips off the tape strip for the second time in a minute, and lets the luminous matter drip and absorb into the earth.

Nothing happens for a second, and Ren’s heart sinks.

And then the pain doubles tenfold and the bramble starts to constrict around him like a snake, coiling and stabbing at him.

And it’s still not enough. It’s not fast enough.

He can hear greenery buckling under the strain of feet in the distance and whatever psychedelic effects those berries might’ve had might’ve had is really starting to kick in; because the grass looks like it’s comprised of little computer pixels.

Ren takes deep breaths and musters the strength to hurl the core onto the sharpest parts of the thornbed.

It shatters.

Ren tenses and waits for the pain. 

Anything to avoid facing enemy bombers. Anything. Even death to a berry bramble. 

He’s seen what Watchers do to captives. Jimmy, one of the people in their LARP group, had been one of those.

The loam seems to groan with the strain and the parts near his face shoot up first, knocking off his crown.

Dangit!

His crown!

Maybe it is a blessing that in his delirium he is not thinking straight. He can barely feel the lashes across his face.

Against all logical thinking, he reaches out his hand to get it, but the vines cover him whole.

It’s ironic, how Ren’s biggest challenge was the freakin gate and how he’ll die so close to freedom.

Bested by some weed berries. He should qualify for a Darwin award.

Well, anything’s better than a Watcher, right?

His hindbrain won’t stop screaming about the crown, and Martyn, Martyn, Martyn.

The footsteps stop in front of the bramble bush.

The hallucinations must be really bad by now, because he thinks he can hear Martyn’s voice.

“Ren?”

Against his best interests, he slurs out, “Mi’Hand?”

[wildwizardcreation]

ok well I don't know how big your doc design is but I'm imaging he's decently sized and assuming that his hands are also big (and dick..) I literally want him to choke me while ramming into me. Or have his fingers in my mouth to shut me up. IDK why but the way you designed his hands make them look so nice.

AND THE JEWELRY!!!!!, fuck I read that fic and remembered how I wanted to be Ren so bad. Like do you mean you got to worship (and praised by 🥲) a 6,5+ creeper hybrid dilf dressed so pretty to play his role and I can't??? Ugh and your design encapsulates that perfectly becausee he looks so so beautiful and basically how I imagined him in the fic + in general. (Especially since I'm pretty sure docs irl face is used as reference? which don't get me started on cc!doc....) I just want to dive into his fur and smell him so bad...

Anyways your design can literally do whatever he wants with me - grope me...rape me.., I just wanna get on my knees and suck him off like a good boy, forced or not ☺️

SORRY, sorry for this, please judge as harshly as youll like. great art again!!!! <3

- 😇☣️

NOW WHY WOULD I JUDGE YOU FOR HAVING THE SAME BRAIN AS ME !!!!!!!!!!!!! rapist praise heavy worship kink doc is my bread and butter!!!

and to answer ur questions YES he's so fucking massive and of course cc!doc is his reference 🥴 im a sucker for using real likenesses in my designs not just for rpf reasons (though a lot of it is rpf reasons) but so many of the ccs are already sooo attractive!! they already do half the work for me!!

im SO glad my doc reached his target audience 🤝🤝🤝 pleaseplease send me all your delicious thoughts abt him it makes me so giddy and endlessly motivated to draw him!!!!

[chrysochroma]

“show us some good entertainment”

@febuwhump 2024: Day 1: helpless

@badthingshappenbingo: forced to hurt someone (card is at the end)

Rating: Teen And Up

Words: 1,122

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Warnings: Gladiators, Blood, Violence, Injury, Broken bones

This is based on @amethystfairy1 ‘s Traveling Thieves AU, particularly “And I'll use you as a warning sign, that if you talk enough sense, then you’ll lose your mind.” I highly recommend it!!

read on Ao3

Ren stumbled forward as he was shoved into a small, airlock kind of room, then flinched as the gate slammed down into the ground behind him. A low growl started to emit from his throat as he crept towards the back of the cage and pressed his back up against the cold metal grate that surrounded him. He closed his eyes as his muscles tensed up, listening to the screaming and chanting and stomping of the crowd above him. His heartbeat was steady and true as it ricocheted through his skull, pounding against his brain and ears.

The shadow of the barred gate to the arena slid over the ground in front of him as it was cranked open. The braziers in the arena cast their light into the cage, but failed to reach Ren, hiding in the shadows.

Across from him, on the other side of the arena, the grate finished retracting into the ceiling and an avian stepped out, their wings folded behind them. Their face showed no emotion as they spread their wings, a pattern of gray, black, and white, and launched themself into the air. They circled the top of the arena as the crowd’s screams cheered them on, yellow eyes locked on Ren’s open cage. Their razor sharp talons shone in the firelight as they circled, until they cocked their head to the right and tucked their wings in, diving towards Ren.

Just as the avian’s eyes narrowed, focused in on their target, Ren launched himself out of the cage straight at the avian, tackling them out of the air. The pair hit the sandy floor of the arena hard, kicking up a cloud of dust around them. They rolled around the arena as they grappled with each other, Ren’s claws and teeth slicing through their flesh as they fought back with their talons and wingtips. Ren managed to pin the avian’s wings to the ground just as their talon cut a deep gash down his calf, forcing him to withdraw. Blood soaked into the sand beneath them as the pair pushed themselves apart, both still keeping their eyes focused on the other.

Pain shot up Ren’s leg as he watched the avian stand, the crowd around them demanding a fight. The avian wiped a trail of blood off their face, smearing it across their cheek. Their wings spread out behind them as Ren lunged forward, and they both shot back into the center of the arena, ready for more.

The masses surrounding the arena walls watched intently, sharply, ravenously, like they were starved of entertainment. They had giddy smiles on their faces, all blanketed by the smell of alcohol and blood. They were a good crowd—engaged, invested—what more could a performer ever want?

Ren did his best to block out the noise of the spectators as he studied the golden eyes of the avian coming ever closer. In those eyes, he could find nothing except conviction, and just a sliver of fear.

Ren’s claws carved through the meat of the their shoulder, catching the top of their wing in the process. Just a second after, the avian’s talons raked across his stomach, spraying more of his blood across the floor. They launched themself back into the safety of the sky and Ren stumbled back, pretending not to care about the gashes in his chest and leg, or the trail of blood that he was leaving around the arena. He tilted his head up to watch the avian as they circled above him. One of their hands was pressed over the shoulder Ren had cut open, in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Their eyes were directed at the ceiling, maybe hoping to take their mind off the fight.

Below them, Ren limped to the edge of the arena, rivers of blood flowing down his chest and leg, staining his pants red. His eyes tracked the avian through the sky as he reached the wall, turned, and shifted his weight onto his back foot. They pushed themself forward with another stroke of their wings, and Ren shot across the arena, his claws digging into the dirt to drive himself forward. His legs screamed like the crows all around him as he lunged forward and exploded into the air, launching himself ten feet straight up, his outstretched claw swiping across the wing and side of the avian. He fell back towards the ground, claws dripping with blood, and rolled to absorb the impact of the fall. Behind him, the avian slipped out of the sky and tumbled back into the sand, a mess of feathers. They covered themself with their sand and blood covered wings, a few feathers strewn loose around them. Ren watched as they fought their way up to their hands and knees, breathing heavily, the ground claiming more and more of their blood.

Slowly, patiently, Ren stalked across the arena, towards the shaking avian who was still struggling to stand. He flipped them over with his foot, forcing them to retract their wings in order to keep them intact. He stepped on the feathers of one of their wings and looked down into their shining eyes.

He recognized the avian from the first day he had been in the arena. The two had never spoken, never traded names, never exchanged any more than a glance. Yet, Ren felt a sense of familiarity in those golden eyes of theirs. Even though they were nowhere near friends, or even acquaintances, he was grounded in their eyes, and that wan enough for him.

He knelt down over them, still focused on their honeyed, glossy eyes. He was breathing slow, the tempo like a metronome against the avian’s gasps. He dropped his voice low, so only the two of them could hear.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he began.

They looked up at him. Their eyes were a bit unfocused, and their breathing was erratic, but their voice was clear and true. “Not my wings.”

Ren nodded. His expression wasn’t quite determination or focus, but more along the lines of reluctance. “I’m sorry. This will hurt.”

Carefully, methodically, he reached down to the avian’s forearm and snapped it in half. A crack rang through the arena, echoing in the ears of the bystanders. He looked back into their sunset eyes, now filled with tears, and stood.

Ren stood in the firelight, victorious, a faint sneer on his face. The same low, frustrated growl from before the match rippled through his throat as he glared into the crowd. They screamed for an encore, demanding even more of him. They craved bloodshed, and Ren knew that he would always indulge them, because what other option did he have?

[andro-dino]

furries have been on my brain so here are some shogun steel characters and what i think their species would be and why 1. Zyro is a black jaguar!! you are right axel he is pretty kitty but i feel like his backstory and personality fit a wildcat more. i like to imagine he dyes his fur orange to help him stand out cause he blends in with the dark so well haha

2. Maru is a hamster!! this one is mostly based on vibes teehee. she's just a little guy. pick her up and hold her in your palm 💞💞💞 i could also see her being a bear cub tbh, but i just like the image of her stuffing her face and her cheeks get all large as a hamster hehe.

3. Shinobu is an axolotl!! it's literally cause of his antenna hair i gotta be honest with you lol. but besides that i just feel like the colors of axolotls suit him and it's fuel for your mexican hcs cause axolotls are native to mexico 👀 (ive also imagined in this universe where instead of breaking his bones in canon he loses limbs and has to be in the hospital so he can safely regenerate them akdsjfasdfk)

4. the Unabara brothers are sea otters!! i mentioned before that kite's hair being urchin shaped reminds me of how sea otters eat urchins so i found it fitting. plus it fits with the aquatic theme they have going on. in japanese mythology otters were tricksters like kitsune and tanuki and that fits eight to a T. otters also hold hands to stay together in the water and that's soooo unabara-coded <333

5. Ren is a hunting dog, most likely a spaniel. not too certain on the specific breed yet but i like the brittany spaniel!! she just has that dog energy and i feel like her being a hunting dog can represent her rivalries with other bladers, like taka and genjuro (ik she barely has any in canon but let me dream okay 😔)

6. Taka is a leopard or spiny gecko!! dont really have a proper explanation for this one it's mostly just vibes as well, but i feel like you could compare him being a small lizard that easily "sticks" to people and is very loyal to sakyo, who in a way is like a direct opposite to him.

7. speaking of, Sakyo is a maned wolf/dragon hybrid!!! you mentioning sakyo as a maned wolf lit a lightbulb in my head how does it feel to be so right. i feel like you can really dive into his identity as a descendant of the dragon clan with him visibly being half-dragon too yk. just in general it fits his supposedly menacing aura yet when you get to know him he's just silly and kind of a loser lmao. him and zyro's rivalry is so perfect too cause jaguars are the maned wolf's biggest predator! (plus imagining victoria as a really tall maned wolf 😳 like heeeey girl /j)

8. Kira is a wolfdog!! specifically a high content wolfdog (he has more wolf dna than dog). i chose wolfdog specifically because him being part dog really emphasizes his upbringing in dna to me, and how he still genuinely yearns for connection and a home. i like to think he just calls himself a wolf and ignores his dog heritage cause he doesnt want to seem weak or subservient, and eventually he learns to be proud of his dog attributes

i have more specifically for the rest of the dna bladers but i think ive written enough. hope you enjoy axel!!!!

AWAAAAAUUUUUUUU CHRIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSS IM CRYING REAL TEARS OVER THESE 😭💞💞💞💞💞

I’m too tired to be able to put all my thoughts abt these into full sentences but

AWAAUGGG. HAMPSTER. MARU. SO TRUE‼️‼️‼️

axolotl Shinobu losing full limbs and needing time to regenerate is so big brained you don’t understand (also fun fact I was briefly nicknamed axelotl so I have a connection with them that makes me particularly happy abt this one :] )

SEA OTTER UNABARASSSSSS 😭😭😭😭💞💞‼️‼️‼️ the little guys ever

DOGGIRL REN SO TRUE‼️‼️‼️ also her rivalries with taka and genjuro are very real and true TO ME I think about them soooo much

gecko taka forever 🫶 AND SAKYO OURGH!!!! lowkey kinda wanna draw his dragon maned wolf hybrid fursona (and also you are so right about maned wolf Victoria 😳)

ALSO. KIRA SAYING HES JUST A WOLF FIRST BUT ACCEPTING HIS DOG SIDE TOO LATER ON OURGH ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME /POS

[asknarashikari]

I know this is gonna require a dive way back into the past….way back. Anyhow, my brain once decided “Hey, what would happen if the Saber crew went and teamed up with the Shinienger. And had to do the Shinienger roll call”? Now to be fair, all the swords men/women have titles so it would not be that out of place. But it be so long….

Also they would totally group off in a fight. Like Kaoru, Takeru, Touma, Sophia as one. Ryo, Kotoha, Tetsuo, Reika….you get the gist.

No, I totally get it. Saber/Shinkenger is such a good crossover concept.

Honestly though, if they're gonna split off into smaller groups, I imagine the groupings something like this:

Takeru and Kaoru + Touma and Kento: Obvious for the fire elemental, but also because iirc there's a lightning element disk that isn't used often belonging to the Shiba clan.

Ryuunosuke + Rintaro and Sophia: Ryuunosuke and Rintaro are both water elementals, Ryuunosuke and Sophia are both dragon-themed.

Mako + Ren and Reika: Wind elementals (Mako and Renn) and badass women (Mako and Reika). I can imagine a combi where Ren throws his shuriken powered by Mako's wind and hidden by Reika's fog

Chiaki and Kotoha + Ryo and Tetsuo: Chiaki and Kotoha are earth elementals like Ryo, and Tetsuo tends to stick with Ryo in group fights

Genta + Yuri and Ryouga: Genta and Yuri are both light elementals, and Genta and Ryouga have unusual sword styles (Genta uses iaido and Ryouga's sword doubles as a trident/spear).

[draconscious]

@talubld (continued from here)

" just uh - thinkin' about the gym challenges includin' my own you know? last I came here was during that 'round uh. ten? years ago? it's nice seein' how little it's changed compared to goldenrod. " and that wasn't a lie, at least, it'd be a bit unprofessional to start diving into anxieties on company time after all. " How long have you been gym leader for? "

Blackthorn's lake is calm today, and Clair can see her reflection rippling in the waters as she squats beside Ren on the earthy bank. (Off in the distance, majestic Linvala--one of her precious Gym-ready Dragonairs--continues her leisurely patrol of the glassy expanse.)

"Mm. No, Blackthorn hasn't changed much at all, for better or worse," she offers with a sigh. "...The Clan Elders make sure of that."

"As for me, I became Gym Leader...around ten years ago." The tamer smiles, tapping at her chin thoughtfully as she studies Ren's features with that intense blue gaze. "I may have a poor memory when it comes to remembering challengers, but you would have been one of the first trainers to take on my rendition of the Gym. So I feel like I should remember you. Hm." (Clair quirks her head, racking her brain for any recall at all.)

"...What's your name?"

[alligatorjesie]

Find something different to defend to the death. Like idk, a classic book or smth. Or a movie that was actually good and had cultural impact (not the Star Wars sequels, only the prequel and og trilogy had impact. The new shot is blatant milking from a capitalist shitstain company that would rather its employees die in their cars from starvation than give them a livable wage.) or maybe go take a literature class and learn abt subtext and themes, and narrative equivalencies, and be able to understand that real life affects fiction (1984) so logically, the reverse must be true. (literary tropes and monsters becoming mainstream, concepts and phrases from books becoming so commonplace nobody can even remember where they came from, a lot of things abt Sherlock Holmes and how so many things from that series of stories affected real life police and detectives and how they were perceived. these are all examples of fiction affecting reality and peoples perception of it.) you are being a clown for no reason. Take off the mcdonald shoes and put on your big girl ones.

What kinda fucking cocknozzle sits there and tells someone else that the thing they like ain't worth defending then shoots a fucking fat turd of a paragraph trying to explain why?

Yes, that's what I want. A fucking prick telling me the thing I love is bad because they don't fucking understand it.

Ya daffy fucking cunt. You probably don't know fucking dick about botany but that don't mean the kudzu that has been slowly choking the entirety of the fucking southern states of America suddenly isn't a fucking issue anymore because you don't understand what the flying fuck it is.

Things can mean many things to other people even though the point can evade you, and fuck me sideways, a lot of information looks like it evades those two brain cells you got knockin' around. Let's help you out by pointing you to a few metas since you can't seem to understand the cultural impact these movies may have had on some people: Musically Ben and Rey mirror one another.

Another music study on Ben and Rey's leitmotifs because John Williams don't fuck around and understood the fucking assignment.

Reylo is just reverse anidala and you can see this shit with your fucking eyes closed

Rey has a lot of fucking reasons to be absolutely fucking furious but chooses the high road and how we can all learn from that.

Rey and Ben are ying and yang.

They cover that topic a lot because it's not fucking subtle.

Kylo Ren and the five stages of grief

The color red is in The Last Jedi a lot and it's not fucking accidental.

More on the topic of blood and the color red used in these movies.

The trilogies are all metaphors for growing up.

The Force Bond was set up in The Force Awakens and it's really fucking obvious.

Another one.

And another one.

Many of these metas, specifically the force bond ones, were made well fucking before The Last Jedi came out if that tells you how fucking obvious the bond was going to be in the plot structure of these fucking movies moving forward.

You remember this scene?

Yeah John Williams knew full fucking well reylo was gonna be a goddamn thing

Really fucking obvious Beauty and the Beast parallels.

Snoke is a dragon from ye olde fairytales.

The canto bight scene and it's cinematic parallels to My Fair Lady

Just to name a fucking few.

There are literal lists upon lists of these fucking metas on tumblr.

Listen, I could go fucking on there are countless metas floating around on this very fucking website that covers just... fucking everything dealing with The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi.

Not you Rise of Skywalker, we don't fucking talk about you.

These 2 movies alone gave us so much fucking content that even now 8 years after their release we can still dive in and catch new shit. That ain't fucking shallow you dense motherfucker.

Just because you watched these movies with your head rammed up your ass so fucking far you can only see shit doesn't mean they are shallow works with zero cultural impact. They don't mean dick To You. They mean quite a bit to many other people who ain't fucking stupid.

I may be a clown but you're a fucking joke.

[ren-c-leyn]

Happy STS Ren! What about a scene comes to you first? Piece of dialogue, first line, conflict, imaginary, voices,...What else do you need to write it down? @writingonesdreams

Also any hints on what the celebration in October will look like?👀 Your enigmatic posts are making me curious.

And if there is a writing/thinking update I would love to hear how you are doing ^^ How is the dark princess wip?

@writingonesdreams

Happy STS to you too, Dreams! :D

That depends on the scene in question. I got on a ramble, multiple rambles actually, so here's your very favorite thing to get on sts and wbw: a read more.

Some of them it's the first line, like the opening of The Shackles of Time. Some of them it's dialogue, like the scene I have in mind for the ending of book 1 of The Dark Princess wip. Some of them it's imagery, like The Time Keeper's office scene in chapter 4 of The Shackles of Time and the tea scenes in Forgotten Gods. Then, there's times it's the conflict, like the last couple of chapters of Forgotten Gods and this explosive scene in the middle of The Firewalker.

I never really know what my brain is going to latch onto to to inspire a scene in my mind, but in order to actually write the scenes out, I need to know what came before it. I can't just dive in and start writing an ending scene without knowing what happened in the middle, or the beginning, of a story. Which is why I have to write in chronological order, otherwise the scenes don't fit right and I can't get my mind to do the cause and effect chain I use to keep my stories on track.

Usually I don't need much more than that. I can roll with just a snippet of dialogue bridge where I'm at to the dialogue without an issue. I can do the same thing with just a first line of a scene and then use what came before and my ideas for where the next big plot point are to roll it that way.

If I'm working on a one shot short story, like the ones I used to write all the time for the blog, then I don't even need that much. Just some kernel of an idea and I'm good to go.

The joy of having a chaotic writing process that not even I can predict lol XD The downside of this process is that if I'm not getting that random spark of inspiration for a scene, or a scene that's relatively close, I hit snags where I need to actively start hunting for that snippet of dialogue or line or conflict or imagery I need to get the story to go again.

As for the October anniversary celebrations, what can I say besides it's a surprise? Okay, okay, I actually have a lot I can say. I'll give you a spoiler for the special post I did complete, because it turned out awesome and I need to scream about it a little bit: making things sparkly is super fun ^^ Having three people do far say they love the same sparkly thing in The Shackles of Time gives me lots of excuses to make this sparkly thing over and over again in different contexts. Oh, and I have an idea to turn one of your answers + one of your favorite Shackles of Time Incorrect Quotes into another thing. It'll be the next celebration thing I work on after the current thing I'm doing, since it's going to be a format I've never worked with before and I might need a couple of runs at it to make it work. Before I work on it, though, I'm going to finish Arlen's introduction post art so it doesn't get lost in the celebration stuff.

As for writing updates, I don't have much to report. I'm just getting back into the swing of being on tumblr regularly and creating things again. My life is settling down again, thank goodness, so I should be able to start clawing out more time for writing and plotting and stuff.

I will definitely be working on The Shackles of Time as my main focus, though, since I'm releasing those extra chapters in October and December to celebrate, along with an extra new years chapter, so I need to get ahead. I don't have enough written at the moment for all of them. Which is fine, I've been looking forward to introducing the new team, which will be the next arc. The trio have one more rookie quest to go before Glenn and Zephyr get their date mini arc. I'm looking forward to that, though I'm also a bit sad since the trio being turned loose might mean less of their fun mentors. I'm thinking of ways to keep them involved, and I think I have a few ways to keep not only Glenn and Zephyr involved, but also Wyndulin. So we'll see how that pans out when I get there.

Dark Princess is still going, though it is admittedly on the back, back burner at the moment. I have a general idea of the layouts of the kingdoms before and after The Dark Empire starts it's warpath. I also think I more or less have the diplomatic relations between the kingdoms figured out. Still have not finished building all of the characters. Did I say this is a huge cast? It's like over 20 characters I need to keep track of. No one is named, yet, and I don't have everyone's loyalties figured out. But hey, at least I have the major players in the plot more or less built. So progress!

Still haven't built the magic system, but I think I figured out the basic structure I'm going to be going with. It's inspired by The Shackles of Time's multiple traditions, the Lumen from Long Live The Queen, with a twist of The Plight of a Sparrow's consequences. Maybe. That's the general framework that's sticking with me as I'm looking into different magic systems, so I think that's the one I'm going to be going with. I need to set down and set up the rules of the magic system as a whole, but I'm going to put that on the back burner until I finish building the court. How many nobles could there be in a castle? *insert laughter that slowly trails off into a long sigh*

As one of my housemates are fond of saying: You just can't make anything easy on yourself, can you, Ren?

The answer is no, no I can not, but at least it makes for good stories, right?

[ryu-skies]

a conversation

C clears some things up. (1.3k)

C asks Ren to meet at their favorite cafe to discuss some things, since they’ve kissed and slept together since Ren’s confession but have yet to officially establish their relationship status. C knew Ren would be happy to assume they were back together, but wanted to make sure he cleared some things up about his past to ensure they were on the same page.

Looking around the cafe, C finds Ren at their usual table tucked away in a cozy corner and surrounded by pretty plants. It’s a fairly secluded area allowing them to have some privacy, but the sound of other customers and baristas hard at work could still be heard. He removes his jacket and drapes it over his chair, seating himself across from the other boy.

C sips the matcha Ren ordered for him, the mug warm on his hands. He peers up at Ren, looking cozy in a black knitted sweater with a stupid smile on his face.

“Hi C.”

C feels himself blushing at the simple greeting and sets his cup down. “Hi Ren.”

“So… We’re dating again?” Ren asks eagerly, staring straight at C with glowing eyes. 

“It’s not that simple.” C’s fingers tap against his mug. 

“But I love you. And you love me, I think.” 

C flushes deeper and averts Ren’s eyes. “Yes… But there’s some things I want to tell you about first.” 

 “Oh… Um, okay.” Ren shifts in his seat, C’s anxiousness making him nervous. “I’ll listen.”

“You know Zane, right?” C sighs, staring down into his drink. Might as well dive straight into it.

“Your ex?”

“Yes. He wasn’t just a guy I met. He was a client at first.”

Ren raises an eyebrow, failing to see the issue. “…Okay?”

“We had an arrangement, if you get what I mean.” C glanced at Ren, hoping he would catch on. Unfortunately, he still looked confused. “Ren, he paid me to be with him. He started out as my sugar daddy.”

Finally, something clicked. “Ah.”

They sat in silence, C watching Ren nervously to see how he would react. He busied himself by taking another sip of his matcha, watching thought flicker over Ren’s face.

“Does it count as a real relationship if he paid you to be with him?” Ren asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Honestly, I would like to believe it doesn’t, but we were exclusive and… committed for quite a while.” C grits his teeth, forcing out the word. “I wish I could tell you I never liked him romantically.”

“Hm…” Ren squeezes his glass, lower lip caught between his teeth. “Did he pay you for… sex?” He finally asked.

A distinct memory came to C upon hearing Ren’s question and he paused, uncomfortable. Ren deserved the truth. “Once. Just the first time.”

Ren nodded slowly, looking a little deflated. He opened his mouth to speak, but C cut him off.

“I’m not proud of it, okay. The thought of any moment I spent with Zane fills me with so much disgust. I really hate that I ever let myself get close to someone like him, let alone accept money from him or anyone.” C stared down into his drink, too ashamed to continue looking at Ren. “It was a dumb idea I had after graduating and there were so many men willing to pay absurd amounts of money just for a conversation… If it means anything at all, I didn’t sleep with anyone else. Zane just offered so much and I was so naive… I’m sorry, Ren. I understand if you don’t want to be with me after hearing about all this.”

Ren reached forward, taking one of C’s hands in his own. His fingers brushed over the back of C’s hand softly. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” His voice was gentle; caring.

“I just don’t want you to hate me.”

Ren squeezed his hand, leaning in closer. “I could never hate you, C. Especially not for mistakes you’ve made in your past.”

“It was so stupid. I never would’ve done any of that if I knew what I was getting myself into,” C sighed sadly.

“What do you mean by that?”

C was caught off guard by the question, racking his brain to come up with a suitable answer. “It was a bad relationship. He… did things I want to forget about.”

Attentive as ever, Ren picks up on C avoiding something. “...Zane didn’t hurt you, did he?”

C froze, glancing up at Ren and catching the concerned expression on his face. “Um.” He laughed nervously in an attempt to deflect, tears pricking at his eyes. He didn’t want Ren to know the truth, but he couldn’t lie. Not to Ren. “Um…”

Ren tensed at the realization—if Zane hadn’t hurt C, then he wouldn’t be reacting this way. 

“C.”

C blinked, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. He used his free hand to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve. “He choked me a lot and threw me around. The bruises were really bad sometimes,” he whispered. “And he liked to… use me even when I didn’t want to. Especially when I didn’t. ”

Ren cursed, holding C’s hand tight in between his own. “That fucking bastard. If I ever fucking see him again, I swear to god—”

“Ren, it’s okay. I’m okay now. I’m not with him,” C spoke softly, despite the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Ren grit his teeth, getting up to seat himself next to C instead. He pulled the chair close and lifted his hands to wipe away C’s tears, cupping his face. He kept his eyes locked with C, as if he were searching for the truth in his gaze.

“I’m okay, Ren.”

C gave his best attempt at a smile and Ren pulled him into a hug, holding C’s head close against his shoulder. C wrapped his arms around Ren in return, letting himself calm down as he inhaled Ren’s scent and took in his warmth.

“I wish I could’ve been there for you. If I had known…” Ren started.

C burrowed into his neck, pressing a kiss to his skin. “I’m kind of glad you weren’t there to see how pathetic I was… It wasn’t my best moment. I kept going back to him even though it was the same thing day after day.”

Ren only sighed, fingers combing through C’s hair lovingly as the moment passed between them. C was the first to pull away, taking Ren’s hand again and lacing their fingers together.

“I sure was a lot different in college, huh? I’m surprised you haven’t left me yet.”

“I don’t plan on leaving you ever again,” Ren affirmed. “I love you, and learning about your past won’t change that a single bit. It doesn’t make me see you any differently.”

“Even though I literally used to go on dates with men for money?”

Ren lifted C’s hand to his lips, kissing over his knuckles. “Nope, I still love you.”

C smiled, heart fluttering. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You’re you. That’s it,” Ren stated matter-of-factly, blue eyes unwavering. C pushed at his shoulder gently.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Sorry, baby. That’s just the truth.” Ren grinned, the familiar pet name rolling off his tongue. “Am I allowed to call you that yet?

C releases Ren’s hand to cup his face instead. He leans in, pressing a kiss onto Ren’s lips. “It depends.” “On?”

“If you’ll be my boyfriend.”

Ren scoffed, hand squeezing C’s thigh. “I wanted to be the one to ask that.” He chases C’s lips, pulling him into another kiss. C stops it short, pulling back.

“I’m still waiting for an answer.”

Ren hums, squinting as if he were carefully determining his answer. “Yes. Of course I’ll be your boyfriend again.”

[zephyrine-gale]

past or future, leave them be

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 3

This fic assumes Mishima isn't a confidant, the reader is the Moon arcana instead, keep this in mind.

word count: 6.3k words, SFW

- Admin Myah

Over the next few weeks spent with Akira, or… Joker, as he seemed to be called when the situation demanded, you learned that the world was much more complicated than you ever could’ve dreamed. Sure, you praised yourself for being a little less of a sheep than the idle-brained teenagers of your everyday life who thought of nothing but gossip, status and appearances, but now you felt insignificant, like you’d been asleep all this time until Akira, Ryuji and Ann had placed six symbolic hands upon you, and shaken you to life. Layers upon layers, he explained the subconscious world that lay beneath, which ached to be revealed, only to those who’d open their eyes.

＊

It’d been a rush, your first time in the Metaverse. You’d insisted to Akira, though he protested, that you wanted to see what all of this near-unbelievable nonsense he was explaining was all about. He’d never taken non-Phantom-Thief confidants into the Metaverse, and he was hesitant, silent for a long while before deciding that your help was worth the risk. After all, he’d already told you everything, and they had no way to erase memories… yet.

You remember Akira taking your hand, the skin on skin contact. Up on the school’s rooftop with Ryuji and Ann flanking you, Akira had told you it was a precaution, to make absolutely sure that you transferred into the Metaverse with them and landed in the same place. You had to be touching one of them, for your safety, and he’d eagerly volunteered. With the cat in his bag seeming to smile at you over his shoulder (an occurrence which made you feel like you were going looney already) he tapped an app icon on his phone, some scary red little square, and with that, your body lifted, began to float, or so it seemed. Red completely consumed your vision, red and black ink like those blobs you’d seen the Phantom Thieves appear from when this all began. You gasped, stumbling back a step as if you could escape the all-encompassing wave, and Akira, sensing your trepidation, squeezed your hand slightly.

The rooftop faded, and you felt like a character from a videogame fast-traveling to their destination. Almost as fast as it appeared, the trippy red and black sludge subsided, and before you sat a dark, dreary scenery. A castle, one that obviously belonged to a malevolent ruler sat amongst a purple sky and the smell of despair.

“What the…” your mouth hung agape for a second, taking in your surroundings before letting your eyes trail down to where your hand met Akira’s. Assuming you no longer needed it, you shook him off gently, not even sparing a glance his way, and his eyebrows creased just the smallest amount, not that you noticed. You were too focused on the giant cat before you, knee-height, with a round, bulbous head. “Is… are you-?!”

“Much more handsome and dashing in this form, wouldn’t you say?” Morgana - now confirmed - gave you a sly look as you leaned down to his height to run your hand along the fur on his head.

“Wow… so cute!” You cooed.

“Hey! Stop it! Stop it! I am a warrior and to be taken seriously!” he whined, shooing away your hands, his fur on end.

“Ha!” a sharp laugh rang out behind you, and you turned to see that Morgana wasn’t the only one who’d made a drastic change. Ryuji was now clad in some kind of leather pirate’s uniform, his demeanor far more fearsome and a skull mask across his face. Ann donned a skin-tight body suit and cat mask, and Akira wore a lavish long coat, red gloves, and a masquerade mask. He looked like a magician from some fairytale, or perhaps the leader of some band of Robin-Hood-inspired band of vigilantes… although you supposed that was kind of what he was now… either way, he would make amazing source material for your main protagonist. Such swagger, a commanding presence… he didn’t seem to exactly be the same Akira you’d met earlier.

＊

The trip to the Metaverse was almost completely uneventful… almost. Just once, when you’d begged Akira to press forward and show you the inside of the castle, something called a “shadow” attacked, and you got to see the band of thieves in action. It was shocking, leaving chills running down your spine. Here were your classmates, people your age with ghost-like spirits materializing at their backs, flipping through the castle’s corridors, shooting guns and slingshots and magic at terrifying beasts. It was all so fast-paced, so stunning, that your body locked up witnessing the battle. A shadow spotted you in the background, defenseless and clearly not part of the Phantom Thief entourage, and taking the petty opportunity only a sore-loser on the ropes would take, struck out against you. You shrieked, your hands uselessly coming up to defend your face as if it would help. Akira’s eyes widened, his reflexes so much faster in this realm, and turned on his heel, diving in front of you to deflect the blast of frosty energy swirling toward you. It bounced off of the side of his large steel dagger and ricoheted back at the shadow. After assessing the situation and asking if you were okay, Akira decided it was time to return you back to the real world. It was too dangerous for someone without a persona to wander here. The thieves would return later, once you were safe at home.

＊

Anyway, now you believed him, you knew everything he was saying, about Kamoshida and his fucked up mind, about confidants, personas and metacognition was real and very much a serious matter. Now all that was left was to decide just how you could help them, what kind of deal you could strike with the clever leader of the Phantom Thieves. Of course, he didn’t expect you to get something and give nothing.

It was decided that you’d offer your knowledge as a writer to help with negotiation and charming shadows in the Metaverse. You’d turn those golden lines you wrote on the pages into real-life lessons, and Akira would learn to seduce shadows, to out-smart them, to persuade them to give up everything they had: their money, precious belongings, even their very selves. He would flirt, threaten, intimidate, any honeyed word or silver-tongued method he could use to make deals with shadows go along more smoothly. Perfect. It would help him out immensely. But, what did you want, he’d asked again.

It felt embarrassing, now that you were put on the spot, forced to disclose it, but although those “golden words” translated well into lessons for others, you found that you couldn’t as easily take your own advice. You struggled with human interaction in your real life, especially of the romantic kind. You could write a healthy relationship out on paper, create the ideal love interest from scratch for a story, but stumbled along words like some socially incompetent fool once it came time to apply that knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, these days even getting true, realistic romantic moments down on paper was a struggle. The well was drying up, writer’s block, as you’d explained it to your online friends. It was near impossible to make something from nothing, and you had nothing. No real romantic experience. You couldn’t help but think this was the route of the problem. Your writing, your precious romance novel would flourish, if only it’s author wasn’t completely clueless.

“Date me…” You mumbled, surprised out how your long moment of pensive introspection had accumulated into this clunky statement.

“What?” Akira let out a breath he’d seemed to be holding the entire time, just watching you think on what method of reciprocity was worth your help. Losing your nerve at the incredulous tone of his voice and the raise of his brows, you shrunk back a bit, ready to defend your words.

“W-wait!” You held a hand out between you. “Not really. I mean…” how to word this…? “Like, fake!” He looked even more confused than before. You released a noise of frustration. “What I mean is, you take me on dates - fake ones - stupid little stuff couples do, for my writing, of course…” You looked toward the ground, suddenly extremely interested in your shoes.

“How does that benefit you in any way?” He smiled, a bit forced, a blush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Well I- I’ve been having writer's block lately. I mean sure, I can give you lines and lessons from my previous works, drabble and things I’ve learned, written down in the past, but I have no fresh material. Stagnation is every writer’s downfall, but I have no experience, I need more to go off of… and then maybe I can even transfer what I discern from our… interactions - er… dates I mean - to you. Does that make sense?” You looked up at him hopefully.

“Uh… no,” Yeah, you knew it didn’t, but that’s all you had for him. His hand shook, much less confident as Akira than Joker, and he shoved it in his pocket.

“It’s hard to explain, I just… that’s my deal. Will you take it?” You clutched your bag a little closer to your body. “We don’t even have to tell anybody. I just want to experience it… going out… with someone…” It sounded a little more pathetic now that you were actually hearing yourself. You both stood in silence, Akira contemplating your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you as a person… it was just… complicated…

“Give me a day to think about it,” he spoke quietly, giving you a polite send off before parting ways.

That night, anxiety set in as you rolled around in your bed restlessly.

Did you sound like a creep? Were you being unreasonable? Was this asking too much of him? Does he think you’re crazy? You’ll probably never hear from him again. He’d probably rather find a way in that crazy Metaverse to erase your memories so he can forget the awkward exchange ever happened. Maybe he’ll kick your shadow’s ass one day.

You debated going to school the next day.

＊

Akira’s night, though not as horrendous as yours, was not a peaceful one. Like so many nights, he found himself awoken to the clink of a ball and chain, dressed in striped rags as he stood and walked to the bars of his cell. The twins were waiting, as always, anger in their eyes.

“Look alive, prisoner!” Caroline spoke.

“Our master would have a word with you!” Justine chimed in. Akira looked up, meeting Igor’s large grin.

“You’ve forsaken a bond, Trickster. One must ask, why?” Igor’s hands splayed over a deck on cards on his desk.

“Huh…? What do you mean?” Sleep lingering in his mind, and confused as to why he was here this time, Akira replied.

“I’ve told you, the bonds you strengthen over time and the new bonds you form, they will be what wins this fight. You can only complete your mission, save all that is, through the support your confidants provide, so why have you abandoned this bond?” Igor’s fingers folded together, hands clasped, a show of disappointment. “Now is not the time to not try hard enough.” Was that a hint of frustration in his tone? If so, he didn’t show it.

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Akira rubbed one eye lazily.

“You’re not trying to understand, worm! Wake up!” Caroline’s fist banged down across the bars, startling Akira slightly. He looked to Igor again, who held up a single card between two fingers. On its face sat two wolves, both howling up at a glittering moon.

“The Moon.” Igor stated plainly. “Illusion, fear, anxiety, intuition, uncertainty, complexity, secrets, the unconscious mind. A friend, a possible lover, someone unsure of themselves and others. Creativity, shadowed by doubt. Someone who supports others but not themselves.” As he spoke, images of your face flashed in Akira’s mind. Igor threw the card into the air, catching it upside-down, letting the wolves fall into the moon, swimming in its glow. “Reversed: release of fear, repressed emotion, clarity, misinterpretations overturned. Someone who can fix what was upright. But you’ve passed over the opportunity.” Igor swipes his free hand in front of the card, and it disappears.

Scenes play out in Akira’s head. Confrontation with shadows, confrontations with real people, but these aren’t real… or rather, haven’t happened yet.

He receives clarity.

The Moon has more to offer than lessons on charisma, seduction, trickery, persuasion. His intuition will grow, his ability to perceive things before they happen, the ability to read and understand people, and be understood in return. Other bonds will grow, empathy will grow. More friends, closer friends, a flash of blue hair, white uniform, red hair, headphones, then a tidy uniform, a Shujin uniform, gloves, a beige jacket, and finally bouncy curls and a soft, high pitched voice. With your help, the Phantom Thieves can grow. Bonds will strengthen. Complexity, Igor had said. More than meets the eye. Was there more to you? You weren’t too bad, obviously intelligent… a bit odd, but kind enough, and he did find you cute… but pretending, a fake relationship? How could a fake bond strengthen

The card reappears, as if out of thin air, and Igor points to one upside down wolf.

“Me.” Joker whispers, as if guided by an unseen force. Igor points to the other wolf.

You.

He awakens with a start, nearly knocking Morgana off the bed. He has an answer for you now.

＊

He finds you at school the next day, huddled in the library and not where you’d said you’d meet him. You’d been dreading this, waiting for the rejection, your hand trembling slightly on the book in your hands. He sits across from you, a look of determination on his face. Waiting for him to speak was torture.

“I’ll do it.” He holds out a hand, waiting for you to shake it, seal the deal. A contact has been signed.

＊

Your first date with Akira is clunky, unpracticed, unprecedented of course. He doesn’t know much about what to do, either, so he takes you to Le Blanc for dinner. Some coffee and curry, maybe a soda and some conversation on the side? It couldn’t be too bad, right? That’s what dudes do, he thought, bring their... pretend sweetheart somewhere for dinner, right? Sojiro is teasing, of course, wondering who this new person was, why Akira was holding their hand. He smirks like a dad proud of his boy, and Akira, too embarrassed under Sojiro’s scrutiny now to sit down and serve you curry, rushes you upstairs.

After being dragged by the hand up rickety old stairs, you end up in Akira’s room alone. You look around, taking in his sparse decorations, humble belongings. It then strikes you that you are, in fact, alone. Alone with a boy in his room, for the first time in your life. You didn’t know how you got here, and so fast. Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe you just needed to calm down. This was part of the process, right? Real couples did this, to get to know each other. He beckons you over, gestures for you to sit on his bed with him. You’re hesitant, but Akira isn’t making a big deal out of it, and you’re not really alone, with Morgana right there, so you sit, as far from him as you could be on the surprisingly soft bed. Struggling for words and new to dates himself, Akira decides to treat you first and foremost like his friend. That makes this all easier.

He spends the next hour or so describing Mementos, his mentor Igor, the twins. He wants you to know everything, and it surprises him. His other confidants, save for the actual Phantom Thieves, don’t know anything about the hidden world their bonds are healing. He describes the arcana to you, the tarot, the way his soul resonates with The Fool, Ryuji The Chariot, Ann The Lovers. His doctor friend is Death, Sojiro the Hierophant. Morgana here is the Magician, and proud of it. He explains how he feels a bond with them, as he now does with you. They make him feel like he can do anything. You’re included in that now. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks. How could he say that so casually? It wasn’t like it was a love confession or whatever, but you had trouble seriously telling your online friends you appreciated having them in your lives without adding a joke or meme in there somewhere. Why did he even need your help? He seemed well spoken. You said so, voicing these opinions aloud.

“Huh.. you know, I actually don’t usually talk this much,” he smiled. “Must just be you.” He was only half teasing. You looked away nervously, feeling the need to change the subject.

“S-so, what am I?” You began to stroke Morgana’s fur, and this time he didn’t seem to mind.

“You mean your soul?” He scooted a bit closer.

“Yeah.” It didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Moon.” He replied softly.

He spent the rest of the night explaining the levels of Mementos, and some of the wicked people whose hearts he’s had the displeasure of seeing inside, but the absolute pleasure of changing. You say you aren’t surprised so many people are walking around so hurt inside or eager to hurt others. When the “date” ends - neither of you having even gotten that promised coffee or curry downstairs - you’re touching, sitting shoulder to shoulder looking at the moon outside his window with Morgana on your lap. The room seems a little warmer, a little less humble. Akira mentions with a sheepish grin that it’s getting late, and offers to walk you home.

Rank Up!

＊

You sit in your bed that night, Akira now having returned to Le Blanc, and think about if this will make good writing material or not. You had to have learned something, right? There was something to be gained from every experience… but you can’t help feeling like you’ve warmed up to the thought of Akira a bit more… not too much, however. You smiled to yourself at the thought of The Fool, tricked into dating the Moon, for all it can offer him.

He’d been so awkward at your front door when he dropped you off. You could tell he had no clue what to do. He was frantically looking around. People in movies kissed their date at this point, cheek or lips, depending on how the date went, right? He confessed that he’s one of those people who truly don’t know anything about romance, like you’d mentioned earlier in one of your conversations. You tell him it’s fine, that you didn’t expect anything, that you just met the other day. He thought he was being clear, dropping hints that he might want to peck your cheek, just a quick gesture to kick off your fake relationship, but maybe he wasn’t as slick as he thought. The hints seemed to go over your head. Maybe he really did need help.

＊

Your second date comes in the form of you begging to go back into the Metaverse for some inspiration. He fights you, bringing up the last time a shadow attacked you, but you are persistent. He gives in, taking you to the highest rung of Mementos, where the shadows are weak and he can keep you safe adequately on his own. It is a date, after all, no Phantom Thieves tagging along. Mementos is a bit more frightening than Kamoshida’s Palace, you mention, and he eases your fear, promising to protect you here, always. You take in his Phantom Thief uniform in more detail as you walk the long corridors of the realm of the subconscious and decide he looks quite handsome in it.

You watch him battle a demon that is the personification of lust, a succubus-like creature dripping with temptation and love, or so it thinks. Joker uses all that you’ve taught him so far, which isn’t much, and cons the false idol of love out of their money. It was quite comical yet a bit sad to watch the shadows expression fall from a cocky to a defeated one, but preformative love you’ve decided, is doomed to lose. The irony flies over your head.

From this experience, watching Joker fight with speed and grace, you settle on a genre for your novel. It will be a high-fantasy romance. Joker will inspire your main character, of course, but the love interest… was still undecided. You started drafting her to look like Ann, act like Ann, give off the energy and power Ann does. Ryuji was an option at first as well to inspire the love interest’s personality, but he was a bit too brash. You wanted someone strong, but soft and elegant at the same time. These characters were loosely based on the Phantom Thieves, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

＊

When you leave the Metaverse, though Akira is a bit exhausted, he takes you to a local casual restaurant to make up for the last time at Le Blanc. There, sitting across the counter from you two is an older gentleman. Yoshida, Akira whispers, is a friend of his, another confidant. The Sun. Yoshida makes small talk, asking politely if you’re with Akira, and you feel your stomach clench. You knew this was fake, the agreement was clear, but hearing it aloud, the awkward ‘we’re just friends’ that was coming made you sweat. It still felt like rejection anyway. When Akira confirms that yes, you are in fact dating, your eyes widen, the coil in your stomach releasing. He smiles, taking your hand. This has to be an act, a show to play up the relationship. He’s just performing his duty, his role, holding up his end of the deal in order to simulate a real relationship and give you worthwhile source material… right?

Either way, you appreciate not being publicly humiliated, and smile back. That night, you write down everything, and what it’s like to not be alone.

Rank Up!

＊

Days pass, Kamoshida coming and going, justice being served, and you spend more and more time with your fake boyfriend. Your parents let him come over, and in your room you let him read some of the old poetry you’ve written, some lame pining drabble from your younger years, and some more recent things you’re proud of. He scours your room, digging up old hobbies and photos. You tell him all about them. He tells you he enjoys learning these things about you. You simply smile. It doesn’t seem to be the reaction he was looking for. Not liking the small frown that adorns his features, you pick the conversation back up, asking if he thinks you’ll ever have a persona. He smiles, maybe someday.

Rank Up!

＊

The Phantom Thieves are gaining fame, only more fodder for your writing. The more you hang out with Akira and his friends, the more real it feels. Your online friends can feel it, too. They sense you changing, talking less of writing and more of Akira. They tease you, of course, but they don’t get it. He’s just a main character… just a muse.

This time, Akira walks home to Le Blanc alone, wondering if he should tell you how he feels. He doesn’t like it, holding up this pretense of a fake relationship, pretending the glances and touches don’t matter. He wants to tell you…

...that he’s slowly falling.

You receive a little gift in the mail the next day. It’s a deck of tarot cards. The return address is blank. You call him to tell him all about it, and end up discussing the pros and cons of each card all night. What a coincidence that you should receive your own deck all of a sudden.

Rank Up!

＊

There are moments where you’re afraid you may be falling, too. There was the time that a blue-haired young man stalked you and your friends through Shibuya, turning corners when you did, always on your trail. When Ryuji finally got fed up and confronted the weirdo, asking why the hell he was following you guys, he’d revealed that his name was Yusuke, a student of a painting master, and that he was simply following inspiration where it lead.

“Your friend there, I was drawn to them,” he points elegantly, like some manga bishounen, past Ryuji and toward you. “I beg of you, allow me to paint your form. Something about your normalcy stands out. What I mean is, there is beauty to be found in not standing out, a silent grace in being so plain.” You could tell Yusuke meant no harm, that he simply may be a bit socially inept with his words, as well, but the way he was talking about you set something in Akira on fire. He stood in front of you, shifting until his body blocked yours from Yusuke’s sight.

“They aren’t plain.” He spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone, and you felt your heartbeat speed up. The hint of jealousy in his voice at Yusuke’s request for you to model for him, and anger at him calling someone he found so fascinating plain was evident.

＊

Yusuke seemed to be in denial in the coming days. Though your little troupe seemed to constantly be bumping into him, offering him sound advice and trying to awaken him to the mire of corruption that was the truth behind his mentor, Ichiryusai Madarame, he refused to see reason. He dove further into his art, but you could tell he was hurting. You used your time with Akira these days to teach him how art, much like film and literature, can reflect false truths and influence people. The deception, corruption and shallowness of the media extended to the art world, as he learned after one or two gallery visits with you.

It was then, in a gallery displaying Yusuke’s work, as you sat in a secluded corner alone discussing ways to take down Madarame, that Akira started to flirt incessantly.

He takes your hand, bringing up romantic tropes in movies he’s seen that seem so forced, one-sided, cliche, uncomfortable. He mentions that he would’ve done better, explains how those scenes would’ve played out if he had any say.

“Is that so?” Your brow raises, amused by how animated this usually quiet boy could be when he was passionate about something.

“Yeah! Of course! What, you don’t see me doing that?” he laughed breathily, going on about how the male lead of some high-school romance film Sojiro rented for him was clumsy, forceful, and didn't give his lover time and space to think about their feelings. “I would’ve treated them much, much better… “ his words trail off, as if lost in thought.

“...Is that so?” You ask again, studying his face and asking yourself how you didn’t notice before how beautiful the hue of his eyes were. You sure as hell were noticing now… steely grey, sharp, deep, purposeful. You’d have to write that down… for research purposes of course. When you pull yourself back to reality, no longer lost in the swirl of his irises, you realize he’s staring at you, and has been for some time.

“Do… can I-” he speaks, throat dry, and scoots himself closer. “May I kiss you…?” His voice is soft, so soft, scared.

“...Yes.” You answer, naturally, impulsively, voice just as soft. When Akira leans forward, and softly presses his apprehensive lips to yours, you feel like you’ve been set on fire. Your mind begins to go crazy, while your body is frozen. It’s not that you didn’t like it, some part of you did. You wanted more, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t real. You didn’t truly like him… right? This kiss was fake, for research purposes… to cure writer’s block…

...right?

You were frozen more from guilt than nerves. Weren’t first kisses supposed to feel like little butterflies in your stomach? Did he think he owed you this? Were you taking advantage of him at this point? Did he feel forced to kiss you to keep up his end of the bargain?

Akira deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you, begging you to reciprocate. When you didn’t, lost in your own head, he pulls away, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“W-we… we should head home. I’ll walk you…” he sighs. You both stand, make your way back onto the main street from the museum, and are silent the entire walk home.

You think he’s silent because you’ve forced him to think he needs to kiss you, and now regrets his decision. He thinks you’re silent because he’s just forced a kiss upon you, just like some Chad from a movie who can’t understand boundaries. Neither of you know your silence is for the exact same reasons.

Akira drops you off at home with a quiet ‘goodnight,’ and walks home, clearing his head in the cool night air.

“Stupid… jeez… fuckin’ stupid,” he huffs, repirmanding himself. This wasn’t real. You’d stated that from the beginning. This relationship was to benefit your writing, to help him in the Metaverse, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

It was his fault he let himself develop real feelings. He has no right to be sad, to blame you, to get upset. You’d stated the terms from the very start…

Maybe he really was The Fool.

Rank Up…?

＊

The next few weeks are awkward.

Both of you think it’s your fault.

You go on dates like usual, but they are strictly business. You get writing material, he gets advice, no touching, and certainly no kissing. Yusuke joins the group. Things are great… friendly… strained, tense. Akira wonders what the hell he’s doing, if this bond is even worth it. Weeks pass. He feels your bond with him growing, but not in the way he wishes. It felt like all of his other confidants: visit, gain, rank up, gain power, learn. He wonders if he can keep this up. His heart aches. He wants to touch you more, but can’t, wants to tell you more, but won’t let himself.

＊

One rainy night, he calls you, like he often does when you can’t meet up in person, and tells you he can’t do this anymore. You lie, and say you agree. The guilt won’t let you tell him the truth, that you want to end the farce, move onto something more real. You can sense your feelings for him growing stronger each day, and it’s not fair to him. Without fighting, without the big “it’s not you it’s me you” you’re used to reading about in books, you tell him you respect his decision, and it’s over. When Akira hangs up, he finds himself a bit angry inside. You didn’t even try to fight for the relationship. There was a tiny little part of him that hoped you felt anything for him, that maybe it meant something to you. He cries that night, for the first time in a long time. They are angry tears, frustrated ones.

＊

In your bed, you find yourself sitting upright, dead inside, unfeeling, empty. You feel like a part of you is gone, but can’t pinpoint why. You don’t even notice the tears sliding down your own cheeks as you sift through the pack of tarot cards that mysteriously came into your life. You find The Moon, and play with it, twisting it between your fingers before sending it flying across the room like a paper dart. Did this mean you couldn’t hang out with the Phantom Thieves anymore? Were you losing your only in-real-life friends and… boyfriend(?) all in the same day?

You sifted through the cards and gently set aside the Emperor, the Lovers, the Chariot. Then your hand drifted over the Fool. You held it out in front of your face. A dancing man looking up at the sky with a jesters cap perched upon his head smiled back at you.

The start of a great journey, freedom from constraints. Each day is an adventure. Courage, anything can happen. There is a need to experience new things, to let yourself experience the love you deserve. Be willing to take risks.

A sad, thoughtful smile crosses your lips. You turn the card upside down.

If you disregard the repercussions of your actions, you are the Fool. You cannot see the position you’ve put yourself in. Is everything what it seems to be?

A breath catches in your throat, a wave of nausea hitting you. You scramble for your phone, and dial a number.

Silence, ringing, silence.

“...Yeah…?” Akira sniffles. He’s been crying???

“I want… can we talk… can I come over?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s not, we came home way earlier than usual. You’re just using that as an excuse.” You were feeling a little braver than usual, the spirit of the Fool within you. You heard him thinking, a sigh that came through as static.

“Yeah… fine, I’ll be waiting.” Relief washed over you.

＊

When you knocked on the door after speed-walking to Le Blanc, Sojiro let you in with a warm smile. He obviously didn’t know about your falling out with Akria, yet.

“He’s upstairs,” he gestured, exhaustion evident in his voice. You rushed past, thanking him with a small bow of your head. Only now was the inevitable fear starting to sink in. Akira heard footsteps creaking on the stairs. Sojiro never came up unannounced, and with that realization, his back stiffened. Morgana picked up your scent, excusing himself, passing you on your way up the stairs. He could take a hint.

He stood immediately, stepping toward you, stopping halfway. You shrunk into yourself, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira… I wanted to talk…” you muttered.

“You said that… about what?” He was more than a little pissed, but he was always one to hide his temper well.

“Can we sit…?” You gestured to his small sofa. It didn’t feel right to sit on the bed. He hesitated, before shuffling over and sitting next to you. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Oh, there were so many things, but he wanted to know what you thought was worth apologizing over. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, he dialed back his attitude a tad.

“For… making you enter into the agreement in the first place. Someone’s affections, their love, their touch and body… it’s not something that can be forced. It should never be pretend.” You felt like the biggest hypocrite ever right now. His head shook a bit in disbelief, blinking hard.

“I wasn’t pretending!” His hands flew to his hair, mussing it. “That was the problem.” He sighed heavily.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I wasn’t being forced… are you… you must be the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.” He laughed cynically.

“But-”

“Wait, wait, why did you think I ended our” he put air quotes up, “ ‘fake’ relationship.” He needed this clarification, now. For closure, for redemption, to fix things, whatever may come next.

“Because… because I was forcing you to date me! You were uncomfortable?!” You could feel your voice begin to break, tears clawing to escape. You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself as you did right now.

“Are you serious?” He took both of your hands, looking you in the eyes. You nod. “Answer truthfully. Do you have feelings for me? Real ones?” You bit your lip, that feeling of selfish guilt creeping like bile up your throat. You nod again. “This whole time?” Another nod. He releases you, turning away. “Sheesh, maybe I’m the oblivious one here…” he spoke more to himself than to you. You both sat in tense silence, not sure what to do, what to say.

“Akira…”

“It was real to me,” he moved closer, trapping you against the end of the couch.

“Really?” Your heartbeat was going crazy, and he leaned ever so slightly closer, his hand on the back of the couch for support. “I broke up with you because it was hurting me to pretend I didn’t have real feelings for you, and to think you didn’t want me back, not for real. I thought… that you’d always think of me as just some character for your book.”

“No… Akira… had I known you felt this way…” He leaned in further, your noses bumping slightly, clumsily. This time, he felt no discomfort, no hesitation from your side. His heart fluttered in excitement. You could feel his breath on your warm cheeks.

“May I kiss you?” He asked again, a secondary, unspoken question sitting beneath his words.

“Yes.” Your voice was shaky, but you were sure, for once, of what you wanted. His hand went to your back, cradling you into his chest to lay down flat against the couch. With a passion he’d been holding back, he pressed his lips to yours without reservation. You sunk into the warm, plush feeling, tilting your head at a better angle. He kept the kiss soft, shallow, low pressure, looking for you to give him the signal to stop. When your arms reached upward, snaking around his neck and pulling him harder down into you, he groaned softly, barely audible, before passing his tongue over your lips a single time. You parted your lips, allowing him access, and his hand, pale and trembling, came up and found its way under the hem of your shirt, splayed nervously against the smooth skin there.

[bobafetts-princess]

Mistakes Happen Once

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.5k (feels longer than that??)

Warnings: Javi is a fucking FLIRTTTTT, oral (f! Receiving) squirting (it’s a personal thing y’all) unprotected sex (wrap it and all that) Javi fucks sweet and passionate 🥵

A/N: This is Chapter 1 of a 6 part series I’m working on! Steve’s chapter will be out next week at the same time, let me know what you think about it!

Part Two ; Part Three

The first time you fell into bed with Javier Pena was after you after a successful mission to find one of Escobar’s drug plants.

-

You and Murph and Javi had gone out for a celebratory drink, which turned into a celebratory bottle before Murphy turned in. Connie needed him home, he told you both.

Javi had been giving you eyes all night long, trailing them over your exposed skin and giving you goosebumps. You knew where his head was at and honestly, that’s where yours was too. Javi was hot. Like hot hot, and judging from the screams you heard through your shared wall, he was a hell of a lover too.

You’d denied Javi before and he respected that. But he was a flirt to the core and always coming onto you, unsaid promises of how he could make you feel. But in your line of work you needed to keep your teeth, your edge. You’d never slept with a coworker before and you hadn’t ever planned to sleep with one, but another shot of tequila had you wondering what Javi would sound like murmuring things in your ear as he fucked you.

The two of you stumbled home, thankfully the bar was walking distance from the apartment complex you two shared with Steve and Connie. The two of you were talking and laughing too loud, making an absurd amount of noise and when you got in the front doors you both found that you weren’t ready to end the evening yet. He invited you in for a drink but the second you stepped foot into his apartment, the drink was long forgotten.

It was like one of those movie moments where you locked eyes with each other and then suddenly had to rip each other’s clothes off. He crushed you to the wall, foot kicking out to slam the door shut with his foot. One hand fumbled out to hit the lock, the other gripped the skin on your waist.

Javi’s lips were soft and pliant, but demanding at the same time as he descended on you kissing you with intent. The bristles of his mustache tickled your upper lip but your focus was elsewhere. Namely, the way he was stripping your shirt off your body, then following with his own. Strong, large, capable hands cupped your breasts, teasing the nipples through the cups of your bra and you let out a breathy whine at the feeling. Javi’s lips left your own, trailing down your neck and across your shoulder, deft fingers undoing your bra with one hand.

His lips wrapped around a nipple, teeth grazing lightly over one as his hand cupped the other breast, rolling your nipple between the pads of his fingers.

“So beautiful, make such pretty sounds,” he told you and it was then that you realized you’d been whining with pleasure the entire time.

Strong arms lifted you up by the backs of the thighs, carrying you down the hallway to his bedroom, kiss never breaking. Nimble fingers stripped you of your jeans, brushing along every inch of skin he could reach. You could feel the passion, the adoration of your body in the way his fingers glided over the skin. Strong lips traversed behind them, tongue tasting until he reached the apex of your thighs.

“Bet you taste so good, cariña,” his voice was a raspy whisper, fingers wrapped in the waistband of your panties as he pulled them slowly down your thighs. Large hands pushed you open, laying along your inner thighs as he stared down at your dripping core. His tongue was expert as he descended on you, circling your clit before dipping down into your core. He hit the spots that had you squirming on the bed, crying out for him. Javi knew how to make a woman scream and you were learning that firsthand.

“Javi!” You panted, his name the only thing your mushy brain could come up with. “Fuck Javi.”

“Love the way you say my name,” he told you, diving back in. One hand came up to brush at your entrance, a singular finger pressing in gently. You arched, crying out his name again and he added a second finger. You were squirming and moaning, one hand fisting in the sheets and one hand fisting in Javi’s hair. The hand that wasn’t brushing over the spot that made you scream slung across your hips to keep you in place.

“Fuck. Javi, I’m gonna come,” you warned him, hips grinding against his face. Lips came to wrap around your clit and the sensation of his mustache against you just heightened the sensation and you came, squirting on his hand.

“Dios mio, cariña,” his voice was deeper than usual, eyes trained on your center. “That’s how you come?”

“Little trick of mine,” you panted, enjoying the incredulous look on his face.

“Wanna see how many times I can make you do that,” he said, standing and retrieving a towel from the bathroom before you even realized that he was gone. He slid it underneath your hips before his fingers were inside you again, curling and hitting a spot inside you that had you arching out and crying out his name.

“Come for me again, bonita.” He instructed you and you did, deep groan leaving your chest as you created a wet spot on the towel underneath you.

“Jav-Javi, want you,” you told him, coming down from your high slowly but enough that you knew you needed him inside you. He obliged, kissing your hips before he stood to strip himself of his jeans. He wasn’t wearing any underwear so his cock sprang free immediately, thick and heavy, standing at attention for you.

He crawled up your body, cock brushing along your heated skin. His lips finally reach yours and he kisses you deeply, pulling your legs apart and brushing himself along your folds. He pulls back from the kiss, one hand lining himself up with your entrance as he asks if you’re clean. You nod frantically and he pushes in slowly, sitting back on his heels and watching you take him in. He’s thick and the burn of the stretch feels so fucking good as he works in, inch by inch.

“Feels so good, Javi. Please don’t stop,” you beg him, entranced by the look on his face.

“God never, baby.” He promises, finally bottoming out and leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. He shuffles again after a moment, strong arm wrapping around your back as he pulls you to him, spread wide over his thighs. He thrusts up experimentally, and the angle hits you somewhere deep and intense and you whine. Javi determines its a good whine though and does it again, eliciting the same reaction from you. He starts thrusting in earnest, his goal clear; to make you come again.

Your arm wraps around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin as he fucks you mercilessly, teeth nipping at every inch of skin he can reach. You’re sure there’s going to be marks when you’re both done, but you can’t even be bothered to think about that with the way Javi’s cock is hitting inside of you. He’s grunting right in your ear, telling you how good you feel and how pretty you look taking his cock.

It doesn’t take long, you’re so worked up and the angle that he’s hitting is making it hard to concentrate. So when a hand dips in between your bodies and circles your clit a few times, you break. Screams of his name come from your lips as you clench down on him and his own pace speeds up, his own release the goal now. He’s panting and whispering things in your ear in Spanish and English, praises and dirty words, arm holding your body flush against him.

His pace is frantic now but it feel so good as he pistons himself in and out of your body. Javi’s eyes roam over your body, the way your breasts bounce, the way you’re taking him in almost effortlessly, the way your head is thrown back in pleasure. He thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s groaning deeply, the sound reverberating in your bones as he comes.

You’re both panting and Javi is covering your chest and jaw with kisses as you both come down from your highs. His chest is pressed against yours, your nipples brushing against him. He’s still thrusting shallowly, pushing his come deeper inside you as he covers you in kisses.

“That was even better than I expected,” Javi chuckled as he nibbled along your jawline up to your ear. You simply laughed yourself, laying back on the bed with Javier following you, his body covering yours. “Stay?” He asked, but he really didn’t have to, you weren’t going anywhere this evening.

-

Somewhere in the distance you heard some yelling and a door slam, but you paid it no mind when Javi’s lips trailed further south, encompassing a nipple as he starts round two.

When you make it to work the next day you’re both in high spirits, having taken a shower together that morning.

But Steve isn’t, his face broken and angry as he pours something in his cup that shouldn’t be alcohol at 8 am.

“Connie left me last night.” He snaps when you ask if everything’s okay.

Well that explains the slamming door. You thought, plopping down next to him and working in silence.

Tags: @tibbietibbs @keeper-of-the-sarlacc-pit @jedi-and-clones @sammiesweet @auty-ren @ahoeformando

If you want to be added to my tag list lemme know!