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stanfanfiction · 9 months

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Taste of you - Ken x fem! Reader - PART 3.5

Edit: multiple parts have been uploaded and can be found on my pinned Masterlist on my profile :)

Check warnings just to make sure everything is safe for you to consume and if so, have fun! I hope you love it :)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / verrry horny Ken / Ken learning different aspects about s#x / being held down k!nk / light dom-sub (roles switch between characters) / spanking k!nk (light, nothing super intense) / P! In V! / fingering / Ken’s starting to get a little cheeky as he becomes more confident in himself / some light somnophilia but the reader loves it / restraint k!nk

Ken woke up before you the next morning, still blissed out from the night before. He loved that you let him sleep next to you for a second night in a row. It was SO much better than sleeping on the sofa like he had been doing before. He made a contented noise when he remembered that today was your day off from class. Surely now that he knew what we was doing much better than before, you’d want to have sex with him all day. He smiled and nuzzled his nose into your hair. He didn’t want to wake you but at the same time he really did want you to be awake, and now. He watched your chest rise and fall for awhile, loving hearing you breathe next to him. Gently, he moved to be on top of you, elbows holding him up, his hips resting on yours. He decided he would slowly wake you up, whispering your name as he left tiny kisses from your ear down to your clavicle. You twitched a little, still asleep, and Ken lovingly moved himself down your body, kissing and touching you softly all the way.

He thought you might have awoken when he licked around one of your nipples, your other breast held tenderly in his hand, as you moaned and small goosebumps formed on your arms. You remained asleep, however, and so after loving on each breast for a bit, he began moving down again, taking the comforter with him since he wanted to see you and not let his field of vision be hidden underneath it.

Moving down to your stomach, leaving wet kisses all over your sternum and abdomen, he then traced one of your hip bones with his tongue, and you arched a tiny bit, but remained asleep still. He removed the comforter completely away from both of you now. He considered that you might feel a little cold but if you did wake up uncomfortable, he would just carry you to a hot shower and then fuck you in there where you’d be warm.

He pulled one of your thighs away from the other, hooking it over his elbow as he began leaving open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh, watching you intently. After kissing and even nipping a little at your other thigh, your core was now open to him and he looked up at your face for any hint of being awake, but you were still passed out.

He wondered if you would be upset with him if he just pleasured you a little, just the tiniest bit until you woke up. He was obsessed with your vulva, and upon seeing it again he began to grow hard. Keeping an eye on your face, he lowered himself over your groin and kissed your clit, then slowly down until he reached your opening.

“Ken,” you breathed, barely awake and assuming you were having a really nice wet dream. That was until Ken dipped his tongue into your opening and you made a kitten noise. Ken liked that noise a LOT and began licking in circles inside your opening until you opened your eyes. You gasped when you saw this was not a dream but that Ken was actually waking you up with oral sex. Ken was going down on you, his blue eyes twinkling and his hands holding you open for him.

“Ahh, Ken,” you let out a shaky breath when he flattened his tongue firmly against you, licking up from your opening up to your clit, when he flicked with his tongue once he got there, causing you to cry out and grab his hair with your hands.

“Ken, please,” a breathy laugh escaped you. “This is lovely but let me wake up more. I’m a little overstimulated at the moment.”

Ken frowned but did as you asked, sitting up on his knees but keeping his hands on your thighs. You offered your hand to him and he took it, holding it up to his face and smiling.

“Good morning, y/n.”

“Morning,” you yawned. You glanced at the clock on your bedside table. It read 5 am. “Why are you up so early, Ken?”

“Waiting for you to wake up.”

You laughed again, and he smiled.

“Did you not sleep very much?”

“I did,” he said, running his hands up the sides of your waist, making you giggle. “But then I woke up and really wanted you awake with me.”

“Mmmm,” you hummed, attempting you sit up a little but Ken climbed on top of you again, his hips holding yours down as he legs kept holding you open.

He smiled down at you. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said right before he lowered himself to where your chests were now touching as he began kissing you, softly at first, but then hungrily moments later. You gently pushed against him and he pulled his face back.

“I do love this, but I really do need a moment to wake up.”

“Okay.” He kept smiling down at you, but not moving his body off of yours.

“I mean I need to get up, Ken.”

Ken frowned and shook his head.

“I’ll fuck you soon,” you promised.

“How soon?”

“After some coffee and toast soon.”

Ken contemplated that and begrudgingly sat up, offering a hand to pull you up with him. You giggled when he left a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Want some breakfast when I make mine?”

Again he shook his head and captured your lips with his. “No food. Just want you.”

“You’ll have me soon.” You placed a chaste kiss on his lips before hopping out of bed and heading into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Ken watched you as if charmed and not able to look away. He loved the way you moved when you walked, wishing your hands were his as you ran your fingers through your hair, yawning again. He discovered his had a newfound part of you that he loved as he stared at the way your butt bounced the tiniest bit as your backside was fully facing him on your way to the bathroom. Hmmm. He would need to explore that further.

You had just finished brushing your teeth when Ken appeared behind you, squeezing both of your butt cheeks in his large hands. You giggled in surprise and watched him in the mirror in front of both of you.

“I like this.” He squeezed a little harder for emphasis.

“You’re so easily encourageable.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, Ken. I like it.”

“Okay, good.” He kissed the hickey he had given you a day prior, feeling ecstatic now that he knew the meaning of it.

Despite your ongoing playful protests to let you finish making breakfast, eventually Ken won and you were being thrown into the bed underneath him as the coffee brewed, Ken attacking your neck with sloppy kisses and bites. You squealed under his weight, your legs dangling over the bed and his feet planted firmly in between yours as he easily nudged you open for him. His hand fisted into your hair to pull your head back as he kissed along your throat and jawline.

“Such a horny Ken,” you laughed, his naked hips bucking into yours, as you had been the only one to dawn a silky robe before heading into the kitchen earlier.

“You have *no* idea,” he almost growled, and that tone of voice shocked you but you also were LOVING it. He kept alternating bucking his hips into yours and then firmly rubbing his cock into your folds while you grabbed at his back and triceps.

“What did you mean last night when you said you would ruin me?”

“Mmmmm,” you breathed, eyes closed, blissfully lost in all the simultaneous sensations. “It means the sex will be so good that anyone else that fucks you will fail by comparison.”

If your eyes had been open you would have seen him smirk, before reaching down to test his tip in your opening. You moaned and your hold on him gripped tighter, expecting him to impale you at any moment.

“You seem veeerryy wet,” he said, his voice raising into a question.

“I am.”

He pulled his hips back just enough to reach his hand down and finger your opening. You shuddered as he easily pushed two fingers inside you.

“You’re *soaked.*”

“Want you,” you moaned. “Need you.”

“You need me?” You couldn’t tell if he was taunting but you were pretty sure you heard a little gasp before he said it, and it was a genuine request for confirmation.

You opened your eyes and pulled him closed to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling up to kiss him. “Need you really badly, Ken.”

He withdraw his fingers and lifted himself off of you just enough to where you began scooting backwards higher up the bed but within seconds your ankle had been grabbed and he pulled you swiftly back underneath him, your legs hanging off the bed again, his arms encasing around you to ensure you didn’t go anywhere.

“Need you *here,” he said, untying your robe and opening it up so he could see your beautiful form underneath him, but didn’t want to move off enough to fully take it off you, so the sleeves remained on. You shivered and felt vulnerable this way, somehow still having your robe on but being fully exposed made you feel more naked than you felt when you actually had zero clothing on.

Ken kissed you deeply, gripping under your thighs tightly as he pulled back and stood up. Having him tower over your like this made you feel so small and that excitement rushed over you in an intense wave.

“Now it’s my turn to ruin *you.*” He thrust into you firmly but slowly, the impact making your back arch and you released an incredibly loud moan. He bottomed out within a few seconds, but those seconds were agonizing as you struggled to adjust to his size while your head became dizzy with pleasure. When you returned to reality you heard him groaning in pace with his thrusts, still slow but beyond intense as he would almost pull completely out before pushing in again.

He pulled you down a little farther so your butt was almost hanging off the bed and your hands floated above your head where you gripped the sheets as he started pumping into your faster. He watched your frame reacting to your every moment, your breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts, and became incredibly turned on by the image of you underneath him, at his mercy, your hands above you. He wasn’t sure exactly why that hand position affected him so strongly, but he loved it enough that he was desperate to hold them there. He wrapped your legs around his waist and you held on, completely lost in everything as he leaned over you to hold your wrists together above your head.

You opened your eyes, glazed and pupils blown, to witness him holding your arms hostage, and you wanted to giggle but couldn’t muster the time in between your panting to do so. So he likes the idea of you being restrained a little. Maybe you’d have to play with him later and see if he liked being restrained, too. You wanted to keep playing with that thought in your mind but it got pushed to the back for now as his breathing became louder and seeing him hovering over you, looking such a fucked up mess sent you over the edge, which also immediately caused his climax as well. He fucked you hard as you both chased your release, and his final thrust into you was so intense you felt like you would fall apart.

He helped you back up onto the bed, you facing each other as he repeated last night, wrapping your leg around his waist as his cock “snuggled” back up into you. Was this how after sex was always going to be? Granted, he still hadn’t gone soft yet, but god forbid he try fucking you again just now, you swore you would pass out. You were almost thankful when you saw him stifling a yawn.

You smiled, caressing his cheek. “Are you tired now?”

He nodded sleepily, eyes drooping a little. “Was it good?” He mumbled.

“It was perfect, Ken.”

He smiled and hummed in happiness, resting his forehead into yours, eyes fully closed now, his body relaxing.

“Sleep, my sweet boy.” You kissed his forehead and continued petting him until he fell asleep moments later. You gently untangled yourself from him, covering him up with the comforter, and watched him rest, looking completely content.

The next few days had you on the brink of mild insanity. You had never been fucked this much in your life, especially never with so much care and obsession. Ken literally fucked you any time you would let him. He discovered he *really* liked penetrating you while you were standing with your body pressed against the shower wall, your moans echoing all around him and him having to hold your frame up while you fell apart around him. It was like being completely surrounded by you and he loved how your body became so limp because of him.

He also became more interested in your butt as each day passed, which entertained you as he would massage it or press against your back whenever you would let him. You did it to him in return one day just to see how he reacted and it turned him on so much you had to hold on for dear life as he pushed you down and fucked you into the sofa. He was becoming a little more confident in himself each day, which was leading to what you knew was less about dominance and more about just being desperate and starving for feeling so connected to you, how much he craved feeling pleasured and seeing how well he pleasured you.

He brought up the spanking he had seen in that movie that somehow felt so long ago, you had forgotten he had asked. You were completely silent for awhile, not really sure how to explain that one.

“So, some people, they have sort of ‘kinks.’ Things that really turn them on.” You smiled, wanting to tell him about how he seemed to love being praised and had discovered he liked the idea of bounding your wrists together to dominate you. “Sometimes kinks can be something that on paper seems painful, and it isn’t that it isn’t painful in real life, but something about it gives them pleasure. Makes sex even better for them.”

Ken contemplated this. “So the woman in the movie, getting hit with the belt felt good to her?”

You nodded, for some reason crossing your harms, having that weird vulnerability come back.

He looked at you. “Do you like that?”

Your face turned so red. “I…haven’t tried it.” You felt desperate to not make anything you said sound like that awful 50 Shades series but you also felt embarrassed and weren’t sure why.

Ken spoke very slowly, hands going into his pockets, apparently also feeling shy. “Would you like to try?”

“I’m….not sure.” Your answer was truthful, and the fact that you were considering it surprised you. It had always been your job to get Ken out of his comfort zone but lately it felt like the roles had been reversed, especially now.

“Uhhh,” Ken laughed, looking down to try and cover his nerves. “Well, I don’t have a belt anyway, so.”

“You can also use your hands.” The words were out before you knew it.

Ken looked up, encouraged by your answer, and you realized this was less about pure curiosity and more that he had been thinking about this for awhile and had probably been trying to figure out how to ask you. So this must have turned him on, a lot, considering how small he was feeling based on his body language. “Yeah?”

Now you looked down, and you hated how this felt like an odd first date where neither party was certain what they were comfortable asking the other to do after dinner. You nodded.

Ken took a step closer, feeling out the energy you were giving him. “Is that something….” You saw him pull a hand out of his pocket then stare at it, then at you. Oh he was definitely imagining it now.

“Maybe.” You said, forcing yourself to look up again. “Maybe,” you stepped towards him too, and ran your fingers along his collar on the shirt you had bought him recently. “You can surprise me sometime, and we can find out together.”

Ken held his composure but you saw the excitement in his eyes, and he nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He looked so boyish and you smiled at him.

You both discovered together when the next day you were on your stomach on the floor, trying to retrieve an earring that had fallen underneath the dresser. You heard Ken inhale sharply behind you and you froze, but only because you expected him to be on top of you any second without warning. When he remained standing, you turned, still on your stomach.

His hands were opening and closing, like wanting to touch something but knowing he wasn’t allowed to. You decided to play with him a little.

“Whatcha doing, Ken?”

He startled. “Oh, I…did you lose something.”

“Just an earring.” You smiled at him then turned back to reaching underneath the dresser. You were wearing a button up shirt and some cute undies but nothing else, and you wiggled your ass a little, trying to maintain your giggle.

Ahh, there he is, you thought, as he was on top of you within seconds, his shirt already gone. He was pulling your panties off while kissing the back of your neck.

“Can you..” He pulled on your shirt, and you sat up enough to pull it over your head, after which Ken immediately leaned into you until you were pressed against the floor again. He sat up and began to squeeze your butt, almost kneading it as his excitement grew. You moaned and relaxed into it. Maybe you needed to start having Ken give you massages, you mused, right as your thoughts were cut off by a sharp SMACK.

You jolted and looked back at Ken, who was frozen, your left cheek stinging a little still. He looked terrified, like this desire had gotten the better of him and you hated him and you would make him leave and -

“Ken,” you smiled back at him, then looked at his hand. You felt playful and wanted to see where this would go. “Do it again.”

His eyebrows raised. “You’re…sure?”

“MMhmmmm.” Your voice was almost a purr and you knew Ken loved when you did that. He spanked you again, a little harder, and you moaned but did enjoy the sensation. He waited a second and when you didn’t make him stop, he struck again, harder. You intentionally encouraged him on with the noises you made, and you could practically feel how horny he was even though you weren’t looking at him.

“That’s *so* good, Ken.” He struck again and you giggled, then realized you were suddenly in desperate need to feel him inside you. Each strike made you tense up and you became almost overcome with the need to squeeze around him. “Ken? My love, my incredible boy. I need something.”

“Yeah?” You heard the excitement in his voice as he stopped to hear what you were going to tell him.

“I need you inside me. Feel so tight and need to feel you.”

He was on it in a second, on his stomach as well, raising you up so your chest remained on the floor but your knees held your hips up in the air, and he sucked your clit harshly, causing your knees to buckle a little. He raised himself onto his forearms to hold your hips steady and he devoured you for awhile, always loving your wetness against his mouth as his tongue fucked you. Once he felt you were ready, he pressed his fingers inside of you, allowed your hips to relax on the ground again as he used his other hand to knead your ass. He was circling his fingers inside you and you reveled in feeling *everything* when his hand came down onto your cheek again, sharp and fast.

You cried out, your entire being shuddering at how amazing the sting felt while your muscle gripped his fingers harder than you ever had before. “Ohhh god, oh god, oh god.” You felt little spasms ignite all throughout your groin.

“Is it okay?” Ken asked, concerned.

“It is incredible.” You had never heard yourself growl but your voice sounded pretty near to it. “More, please, more, Ken.”

He continued for awhile, your hips bucking into his fingers as your cheeks became redder. “Ken,” you whined, “need your cock, please. Gonna cum soon.”

“No.” He sped up his fingers a little.

“I…need..”

“You’ll get it when I give it to you.”

Holy fucking…you lost it then, seeing stars, spasming hard and wailing as your hands reached for anything to grip on the bare carpet. Your breathing calming down, you heard Ken unzip his jeans behind you, then open your legs wide, lowering his hips to meet yours as his cock slid all the way into you. You sobbed as his mouth met your ear. “*Now* you get my cock.”

His newfound enjoyment in dominance was incredible but as he pumped himself into you, you realized your sweet, innocent, bashful Ken was becoming a little lost in all the excitement the last couple days, and you grinned to yourself as you made mental notes on exactly how you would turn that back onto him as soon as possible.

For now, you reveled in just letting him take you, his moans right next to your ear absolutely music and when he spanked one of your buttocks hard again you tensed and cried out, causing Ken to gasp loudly when you squeezed around him impossibly tighter. Holy dear fuck. He wanted more of that but needed to make sure you were okay first.

“Was that okay?” He asked between thrusts.

“Mmmhmm.” You were in pure ecstasy.

“Can I do it again?”

“Yes, sweet Ken.” Ken cried out when his next strike was harder and you pussy reacted accordingly.

He wondered how long he could hold out at how deliciously your muscle clenched around his as he began spanking you in time with his thrusts, your butt cheek stinging more than before, and you had the pornographic thought of what if you actually would be sore and it would hurt to sit the rest of the day?

Right when you felt like you might have to ask him to calm down a little, almost unable to breathe between his rough thrusts and strikes, he stopped and pulled out. You were dizzy when he turned you around to face him and pulled you on top of him as his feet were planted on the floor, knees bent, and he sat you on top of him. You sobbed as you sank down onto his cock again, unable to muster the strength to push off with your legs.

Ken knew, and he loved it, he loved watching how you became less and less coherent every time he found a new way to fuck you, and he impaled you on his cock effortlessly as you screamed, your nails raking into his shoulders and chest, and he got lost in how good it felt to be marked by you in this way. His climax nearing, he sat up a little straighter and hugged you close to him, tears stinging your eyes as he kissed them away right before he came, and the hardest he ever had. You spasmed in time with him, Ken shouting your name over and over until you were both spent. It took you both awhile to calm down, your breathing rapid and both of your bodies trembling together.

Once Ken regained his strength, much faster than you, he gently picked you up and carried you to the bed. He snuggled you into him and had a deep desire to take care of you. He knew that was the most intense sex you had experienced together, and he became concerned that maybe he had gone a little too far in his excitement. Maybe he actually got so caught up in his want and how hazy the world was from the moment he entered you that he lost control and overdid it. You let out little moans into his neck while he tenderly held you, ran his fingers through your hair and down your back, giving you the softest of kisses on the top of your head.

“Ken?” You mustered up the energy to softly speak.

“Y/n,” he whispered back, hand caressing your cheek. He was in awe of you. He was also still lost in the anxiety that he might have -

“That was amazing.” You opened your eyes and looked up at him.

He exhaled a little. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, and turned your head to kiss his hand on your face. “It was insane,” you let out a barely audible laugh. Ken smiled then, wanting to hug you tighter but forcing himself to remain gentle.

“You’re staring to become a little *too* dominant,” you teased, pushing his hair out of his face and loving how the sweat he had worked up glistened on his chiseled body.

“Is that bad?” He browned furrowed. God, if you weren’t spent you would literally take him here and now, and remind he what it felt like to be submissive to you, but on an entirely different level than before.

“Not at all, but…” you trailed off for a second, getting lost in those blues eyes, those damn eyes that belonged to this fucking hunk of a man but made your heart melt every time you saw how sensitive he really was, and about how much he truly worshipped you. “Let’s just say I have some things in mind that I’ll be trying on you *very, VERY* soon.”

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partycatty · 5 months

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dilf!johnny cage > to heal

how it goes when reader dates older johnny following the loss of sonya

warnings: grief, age gap, mentions of sex but no smut written

notes: i want to gnaw on dilf johnny until he is nothing but bones. it is for that reason that this post is LONG. yappasaurus rex over here.

masterlist <3

•first of all mk11 was so bad at covering the grief of a man losing the mother of his child

•then again that also implicates that johnny is really, really good at hiding his emotions, especially around the people he's meant to be stoic around. i wouldn't necessarily cry in front of a thunder god or cryomancer either. and i'd try to keep it together for my kid.

•regardless, johnny falls into a deep, DEEP depression that eats away at him. he should have been there on that mission. he should've canceled that ninja mime shooting and spent one more day with his family before it was completely wrecked. and he'll tell himself this every time he looks at cassie's empty eyes. he stays sober, for her, but god does he wish he could just feel nothing sometimes.

•johnny stays smiles and jokes, but as soon as he closes the door to his sleeping quarters, all he can do is blankly stare ahead. damn him and his acting skills. he wants people to check up on him, but it's just so... hard to express his pain.

•some time passes and he considers himself recovered, but every time he sees his daughter excel in training or lips smile in the way sonya's did... god.

•imagine his surprise when his own daughter asks him to get back into the dating scene. cassie says something along the lines of "you're a sad old fart that needs a woman to get him off of the couch."

•cassie's right, unfortunately. johnny let his stubble grow in and hair grow increasingly wild. he didn't carry himself as well as he once did, which was especially worrying to those who saw him as the confident, sharp, charismatic character.

•johnny declines to his daughter, finding the conversation kind of off-putting. but, on a late tuesday, he decides "fuck it" and sets up a bumble profile while sitting on the classic leather dad recliner in the living room. the one thing he forgot to do? set an age range.

•so he's a little taken aback when a 29 year old you is the third person he swiped to. instinctively, he thought to swipe left on you, but curiosity got the better of him. he read your profile and realized you sounded incredibly mature and had the same interests as him. covering his mouth and holding his phone with the other, he swipes... right, feeling an immediate intense guilt.

•he doubted you'd match with him, but as soon as he swipes, a big "IT'S A MATCH!" covers his phone screen and he lets out an audible gasp, tightening his grip on his face. he then gets a twinge of embarrassment for himself. was he seriously flipping his shit over his first match on a mobile dating app? yes.

•johnny spends a good long while staring at the screen, wondering if you'd even message him. after all, men couldn't message first on the app. what if she thinks he's too old? what if it was an accidental swipe? what if...

•NEW MESSAGE! "hiii :)" johnny swallows, afraid to open the message. what would he say? what should he say? does bumble have read receipts? would you notice he opened your message and stared for several minutes?

•he settles on "hello, how are you?" it's been a while since he's had to genuinely flirt with interest, so he opens cordially. johnny was a charmer for sure, but this time he was playing for keeps, not just for fun. he also, unlike his younger version he met some time ago, wants to take his time.

•you two chat back and forth, and while you acknowledge to him that he is indeed a celebrity (and how hilariously stupid it was that he was on a public dating site), you express no real concern over it. you mention to him that you want to see him as a man and not a character. the deeper conversation of dealing with the spotlight could come another time, as johnny didn't want to scare you away.

•you two text for a lot longer than most matches on bumble. johnny's honestly terrified of meeting up in person. he wants to be so incredibly sure that it's you he wants to meet up with. he forgot to keep swiping, even. he was so fixated on getting to know you. he felt weird talking to multiple women on the app, since he was so used to married life.

•he can't bring himself to ask you on a real date, so you two settle on a friendly coffee chat. he shaves, gets a trim, and for the first time in a long time, stresses about wearing the right things. he even calls cassie and asks if he should wear shirt A or shirt B, but was very keen on redacting your age from the conversation. that was something he was afraid to disclose to her.

•what was this man so afraid of?? you are a SWEETHEART. you're so incredibly mature, have more "vintage" interests and asked so many questions, leaning in to listen. johnny didn't feel the need to perform, in fact, he found himself... with butterflies. he death-gripped his coffee to hide the fact that his fingers were trembling.

•one coffee chat turns into two, and then three, four, and eventually, he feels okay enough to plan a real date. his heart was swelling with excitement, a new warmth in his chest. you were so effortlessly patient and kind with him, never asking for anything of him besides his time.

•he plans a dinner date, squeezing you two into a lavish restaurant that he wouldn't have been able to get into if he wasn't a celebrity. he didn't want to overwhelm you with his money and fame, but god did he want to do this right. even though the topic of money was something you never thought to consider with him, he still wanted to show off at least a little bit. it's just in his character!

•there, he starts to come out of his shell a bit more. he starts flirting back, and you two hold hands across the table, intense eye contact as you converse freely.

•johnny takes a sip of his drink, looking down. but when he looks back up, he notices you admiring him with your sweet young eyes. and it's here that he realizes just how much you've revitalized him. he springs out of bed with a smile. you're the last thought in his mind before he falls asleep. when he is with cassie, he can't stop thinking about how much you two would get along.

•which, by the way, johnny is so incredibly sure to remind you that he has a daughter that's your age. you pause and think, trying to articulate your thoughts on the awkward circumstance.

•"i understand that it may be a little uncomfortable for her and the last thing i want is to drive a wedge between you and your daughter. you speak highly of her and i deeply admire that. i perfectly understand that she comes before me."

•johnny stops himself from tearing up. you're... just so kind. you're perfect.

•after the ninth date, he decides that he's ready to go back to your place. it's a quaint apartment, and it's there that you both make the conscious decision to have sex.

•it's slow and sweet, he's murmuring praises into your bare skin as he takes his time exploring a new body. older johnny takes his time with sex unlike his younger days. he needs to appreciate your beauty, complimenting every feature on your body. you're so divine.

•"such a pretty girl..." he whisper-groans above you, strong hands holding your hips in place with a passionate firmness.

•over the next couple months, he's still working toward officially calling you his girlfriend. a new partner in his life scares him, even if you make all of that tension disappear when you're around. it's just a lot to ask of a man to take that new step again.

•biting the bullet, he asks you at your doorstep holding a cheesily large bouquet, having to glance over it to get a proper look at you. you smile sweetly, nodding and immediately accepting in that gentle voice. you knew how much this meant to him to make things official.

•cassie eventually gets the chance to meet you, as her father brings you along to a holiday party with the family. it's... it's a little weird, she won't lie. i mean, it's just weird in general to see your dad with someone that isn't your mom. that's something that naturally needs time to adjust to. and your age isn't something she can avoid discussing.

•she doesn't hate you. she actually finds you quite enjoyable to be around! she's just a little uneasy that you're her age. but, after a long, long talk full of tears and reassuring words, cassie realizes she can learn to accept you being with her dad. i mean, she sees what you do to him.

•that sparkle in his puppy-dog brown eyes is back, and he just can't stop being engulfed by your presence. a hand is always on the small of your back, a grin always plastered on his face, and eyes are always locked onto you when you're doing the most mundane of tasks. he's chirpier, and people even joke that he seems as active as he was in his younger years. you got the old man's rusty gears turnin'!

•he loves you. he didn't realize he could do that again.

#mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk11

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bleubrri · 2 years

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۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ɪᴛ’s ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ! — ᴊᴇᴀɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

༄ؘ ˑ contains: best friends → lovers , mutual pining , costumes errywhere , dry humping , m!oral , jean whining n whimpering hehe , reader bein kinda bossy >:7 , black coded!fem!reader , vaginal sex , creampie [ maybe more idk bro it’s 3am @_@ ]

༄ؘ ˑ wc: SIGH 4k :/

༄ؘ ˑ a/n: this is for the if you really think that you can stomach me collab by the light of my life @strawberrystepmom !! i wanted to post it in october but i’m useless so forgive me T^T lil talk about protection in there—communication is sexc!! also pls use condoms + practice safe sex xoxo

"these are all awful." you whine, sitting against jeans headboard and scrolling through his 'costume ideas' pinterest board.

he’s got his head underneath the desk, trying to fish out the mario kart disc thats fallen down the back, so his response is muffled. "they’re the most popular ones from the last decade!"

"jean, i am not wearing any of these."

he shuffles back out, dust covered disc in hand and pouting down at you. "there isn't one that you like?"

"not remotely."

"you’re being picky." he says, slotting the disc into the console and tossing you the player 1 controller.

"i’m being honest." you mutter, scrolling past a particularly awful rendition of a cops & robbers costume. he flops onto the bed and rests his head on your shoulder, peeking at the screen.

"y'know I worked really hard cultivating this. hours of research and painstaking decisi—hey!" his head knocks against the headboard when you yank yourself from under his weight.

"you're so annoying.." you mutter, navigating the homescreen and selecting grand prix. the character and course selection are accompanied with jeans babbling (we’ve gotta pick a good one—the standards are high! maybe i should just pick and force a decision on you—) that earns him unconvinced grunts and looks of skepticism.

the subject gets temporarily lost in the chaos that naturally ensues when jean selects rainbow road, 3 minutes of screaming and curses and shuffling onto your knees to get a better vantage point. it isn’t until the final lap when your item box is shuffling that you pipe up, “i guess we don’t have to do something matching..”

jean almost veers off of the track.

he frowns, glancing at your profile as he tries to maintain his first place spot. “…what?” he says. you’ve always dressed up together. since you were kids halloween had been your guys’ favourite holiday, and yet here you were suggesting that you break a years long (albeit unofficial) october tradition.

“i mean we could just go as separate things? if that makes it easier.” and it seems like appropriate timing when you unleash a blue shell and obliterate jeans universe.

you’re glowing, shrieking in triumph as you pass the finish line and leave jean in the dust. he watches your characters parade around the winners podium with a clenched jaw and sinking feeling.

“sure.” he agrees, tight lipped smile making you pause. you didn’t really expect him to agree—you’d only suggested it in case he had a particular costume that he was set on wearing. jean had always been the one to pick your costumes, you just went along with it, and always ending up looking decent so you couldn’t complain. he was always more into the whole idea of dressing up anyway. but you hadn’t really anticipated him ditching your thing in order to.. what, impress some new college friends?

you blink at him, a protest like the cork of a wine bottle, stuck in your throat and threatening to choke you. “cool.” you manage, “just.. let me know what you’re going as, yeah?”

“tryna scope out the competition?”

you give him a good natured shove, rolling your eyes as a smile fights it’s way across your face.

something like that, you think.

this was a bad fucking idea.

as the rhythmic percussion from the speakers gets close enough to rattle your bones, it starts to set in that jean was right. people have taken their costumes really fucking seriously. there are a few token stragglers: eren, in a hoodie and a purge mask and a short, raven haired senior with faux fangs and devil horns. but for the most part all you can see is elaborate sfx gore, girls in animal ears and enough fabric to border on public indecency. and everyone looks great.

you feel pathetic, turning up in a matching costume unbeknownst to your best friend. what if he’s mad? you’d gone from feeling somewhat pretty to utterly mortified in the span of a tacky monster mash-grime remix. your internal debate of whether to bolt back down the road and uber home is interrupted by connie (gruesomely accurate stitches and foam kitchen knife complementing his chucky outfit) who tackles you in a bear hug that reeks of tequila.

“y’look great!” he slurs, clinging to you for so long that he starts swaying.

stifling a laugh, you detach from him and start guiding him back inside. “thanks con, you too.” you shout over the music.

after successfully delivering connie to mikasa (in a very expensive looking black swan costume) you start to navigate the crowd in an attempt to find something to drink.

jean had been developing a steady buzz in the hour or so that he’d been here. he wasn’t having fun. you’d rejected his offer of a ride and for some reason it had given him the urge to drink his blood volume in vodka cokes. he’d made pretty good headway so far, drowning out the compliments on his frankenstein costume with deep gulps from his glass. it felt weird, not having your complimentary figure beside him to admire all night.

somewhere between the fourth beer and third shot of rum he decided that he was mad at you. but it had dissipated pretty quickly—he was refilling his glass when he caught a glimpse of you.

connie was half-slung over your shoulder (gripping you awfully tight and saying something into your ear that has jeans teeth grinding together) but he could still clearly see the monikers of your costume. white streaks in your hair. blackened stitches along your jaw that mirror his own. jean feels the air get punched from his lungs when his eyes scan over your dress. the sheer, pale fabric practically glowing in the dim lighting. there’s a white corset that hugs your waist and follows the curve of your hips that jean can’t seem to tear his gaze from. the whole ensemble.. it’s hauntingly beautiful. you’re beautiful.

jean swallows down a forbidden feeling that claws at his ribcage, tears at the flesh of his throat in its frenzied attempt to escape.

he bolts down the hall to connie’s room, shouldering past vague acquaintances and slipping into his friends bathroom. the white knuckle grip that he has on the sink isn’t doing much to help ground him. his heart hammering in his chest and his head spinning unfortunately isn’t entirely the alcohols fault. scooping some cold water into his cupped hand, jean gulps it down and tries to cool the heat painting his cheeks and swirling in his gut.

bride of fucking frankenstein. is that why you’d asked what he was dressing up as? he groans, pressing the chilled tips of his fingers into his temple, mindful of the black face-paint stitches adorning his forehead. jean has spent almost 2 decades carefully steering you towards costumes that were safe—cute and perfect for the best of friends. jean has long since had his grand epiphany, long since resigned himself to keeping it all to himself, long since mourned the loss of what might have been. but he cannot risk a lifelong friendship with you on a gamble of ifs and maybes. so he straightens his jacket, plasters on his brightest smile and heads straight for you.

“well well well.” he drawls, coming up behind you as you’re mixing a drink. the sound of his voice has you sucking in a breath and turning to him with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“couldn’t help yourself, huh? guess you’re just obsessed with me.”

you grin, glad that he seems like the jean you know and love. “please, this was a last minute ditch effort.” you shoot back, “i just couldn’t find anything else that looked okay!”

“ohh of course. forgive my wildly inaccurate assumption then.”

you chuckle, handing him a drink as you pour yourself another. “seriously though, dyou hate it?”

jean frowns over the rim of his cup, taking in your doe eyes and vulnerable expression that point to you being serious. “hate it? what would i hate it?”

“i don’t know.. you wanted to dress up alone this year so.. i thought you might be disappointed.” he stares at you blankly, cup hovering away from his lips. he’s got such pretty lips, you’ve always thought so. it would be.. weird to tell him that, right? though it’s probably weird how hard you’re staring at them right now and—oh god you’re staring.

“you wanted to dress up alone!” he says, confused.

“wh—i didn’t! i suggested it for you but.. i love our couples costumes.” you give him that shy smile that he adores and jean feels his insides turn to jelly. you have to know what you’re doing. you’ve baited him—hook, line and sinker and like the lovesick little guppy that he is he’s latched on and being stripped of oxygen.

“couples costumes?” he breaths.

“yeah i mean, we’re kind of like a couple.” you shrug, and jean almost faints. “we do everything together.” oh god, you need to shut the fuck up before you ruin everything. before he calls you out for overstepping and—

a whirlwind of colour that takes the form of sasha in a willy wonka costume (complete with crumpled wrappers spilling from her pockets) is suddenly ushering you both towards your group of friends before jean can respond and you can apologise. she pushes you down into the circle that’s forming, empty bottle of corona sitting menacingly in the centre.

jean groans, running a hand through his hair in a way that you can’t look at for too long or you might do something you’ll regret.

“what’re we? 16?” sasha just sticks her tongue out and slots down between macro and an on-the-verge-of-passing-out connie.

the games a hybrid—spin the bottle and 7 minutes in heaven, with people bending over the circle for a peck on the lips while the current 2 victims occupy the storage closet at the end of the hall. you find your eyes are focused on the fascinating items on the shopping list stuck to the fridge as jean locks lips with a pretty little blonde girl—hitch, you’re pretty sure. you don’t notice the glares that your best friend sporadically shoots in reiners direction when the bulky blonde kisses you for a little longer than necessary, earning whoops and cheers from your giddy friends. when the flick of erens wrist dictates that you and jean are next for the closet, the whole group groans.

“what?” floch says, clearly confused as to your apparent reputation.

“these are the worst.” mikasa deadpans, earning a playful shove from you.

“we are not!”

“what, they fuck super loud or something?” floch asks. jeans cheeks are reddening at the implication.

“hardly.” connie mumbles, suddenly following the conversation. “last time they were in there forever, found ‘em passed out after watchin’ a movie on his phone.”

you smile, pushing yourself up and extending a hand to jean. “i’m thinking insidious 2? maybe the conjuring?”

“stop. you know hocus pocus is more my speed.” he matches your smirk and laces your hands together, your friends’ booing accompanying you down the hall as you make your way to the closet.

you’re both settled on the floor, backs against the shelves and scrolling through jeans phone to find a movie. it’s dark, the only light coming from the small screen, but he can still see the outline of your figure in his peripherals, pressed up against him with your head on his shoulder, where it belongs.

“hey.” he finds himself blurting out. it’s the familiarity, the closeness that’s loosening his lips and making his iron resolve crumble.

“hey.” you smile up at him, and as he skims over your face, long lashes swept with mascara, pointed brows and lips sculpted with a dark crimson that almost looks black, jean has the startling urge to confess that he’s hopelessly, desperately in love with you.

“did you mean it? before..”

“what?”

“that we’re like a couple.” he presses.

“oh, i—” theres an apology on the tip of your tongue that somehow morphs under the intensity of his gaze, warm eyes piercing even in the low light. “i mean, we are, aren’t we? strangers always think we’re together. we’re just not, ah.. intimate like a couple.”

jeans ears are ringing. what might have been is beginning to look like what could be, what’s right at his fingertips.

“do you want to be?” it’s barely a whisper, his face so close to yours that when he swipes over his lips you can feel the heat from his tongue. your gaze flickers down, glued to his lips, and without a second thought you find yourself nodding.

“are you sure?” this time, he’s so close that you can feel the syllables against your lips.

“kiss me.”

and jean does not need to be told twice.

it’s a chaste thing, a sweet thing. just skin against skin. you both share a sigh against eachother and it’s filled with so much relief, so much longing that it’s only natural for his hands to make their way to your cheeks, coaxing your head back as his tongue starts to lick into your mouth.

wet smacking and heavy breaths are fogging the space of the closet as your hands curl around his wrists. jeans hands cup your jaw, a breathy chuckle bubbling up when he rests his forehead against yours. it’s so infectious that you find yourself giggling along with him, mirroring the shapes he traces into you on his pulsepoints.

“you have no idea.” jean finds himself mumbling between slow savours of your lips. “god, you drive me crazy.” and you do. he thinks he can feel his fucking brain chemistry altering with every brush of your tongue against his own.

it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the desire pooling between your legs at the feeling of your best friend cradling your face like you’re made of glass and kissing you until you’re dizzy. your limbs feel phantom as you slowly push him against the shelves, your thighs finding purchase surrounding his long legs and hands slipping into his hair. his phone is still on somewhere, cool-blue light casting shadows over your figure. even straddling him, you’re only marginally taller, but jean loves it, your pretty face there for him to behold and your tits squished against the confines of your corset at the perfect level to latch onto. your cleavage being on display is more of an obvious byproduct of having breasts as apposed to a purposeful attempt at being alluring, but jean thanks whatever deity is looking over him and happily sucks a trail of bruises into the soft skin before him. he can feel your breathing increasing with every graze of his teeth, every violet mark etched into your skin. and when he delivers a particularly harsh nip, your thighs clenching around him and your grip on his nape tightening, jean thinks he has to be ascending.

the tent in his pants is considerable, poking into your core even through the whispy layers of your dress. large hands have settled on your waist when you start to rock in his lap, a sputtering groan spilling into your chest as his dick twitches in anticipation.

“fuck, jean—i need you.”

he’s frantic, bunching up your dress to expose your bare thighs and dampened panties. he perches you over his dick, stifling a moan from the pulsing heat of your cunt radiating against his bulge. the movements of your hips are aided by warm hands settled on them, grinding you against his cock as you gasp and moan at the friction. he almost whines in response, fingertips digging into your soft flesh. “don’t—oh shit—don’t have a condom.”

he can’t form a sentence, let alone a coherent thought. but like the angel that you are, you do it for him, tug his face back from where it’s buried in your neck, smiling fondly at his lidded eyes and parted lips. “i mean, i’m clean. and.. on birth control.” you whisper, as if he wasn’t nursing you day and night after your IUD appointment. tucking a strand of hair behind the reddened tip of his ear, you press your lips to the stubble that peppers his jaw. it’s rough, mildly grating in a way that brings heat to the surface of your skin and has you wondering how it would feel against your inner thighs. “and i trust you.” you smile.

a confession is dangerously close to bursting from his chest. jean might as well just plunge a fist through flesh and bone, part his ribcage and present his beating heart to you. he would do it, if you asked.

“fuck, are you sure?” he’s blindly scrambling for his phone. “i—i’m clean and everything but are you sure?” and suddenly the screen is being lit up in front of you with goddamn test results. you laugh, because it’s so sweet and so jean—giving you peace of mind despite your assurances, checking in on you again and again because he cares. you pull up your own recent results and present it to him, his eyes barely flicking over it before his gaze is relocked with yours. you chuck your phone to the side, palming his bulge in languid strokes with your free hand and shuffling down the length of his legs. “never been more sure of anything.”

jeans so hopped up on endorphins, on the taste of you and the arousal searing his skin that he hardly notices you flicking the clasp of his belt buckle. he’s shook from his stupor when he feels the cool air hit his dick, tip shiny with so much precum that its started to drip down to his balls. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the slight curve of his shaft, the bulbous head and mushroom tip, the length of it has your eyes wide and mouth pooling with saliva. you delight in the way his cock twitches and he shivers when you blow against his wet slit. and when you wrap a hand at his base, immediately pumping him with slickened strokes, he reels, arching into your touch and slamming a hand over his mouth to muffle his groans.

oh god, oh god you’re gonna ruin him, thumbing his slit and squeezing his cockhead until he’s leaking into your hand and planning your honeymoon. pink darts from between your teeth and you press the flat of your tongue against him, salty liquid bursting across your tastebuds that has you humming and taking the tip of his dick into the wet heat of your mouth. jeans nails are digging bloody crescents into the skin of his palm as he tries to hold back the sounds of his pleasure, but when you suckle on his slit and swirl your fucking tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock, jean feels his balls tighten and flames ignite under his skin.

“shit—shitshitshit wait!” and you’re pulling off of him with a lewd pop and a ditzy smile. there’s a string of saliva and pre that tethers him to your lips and jean doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful.

“god you’re so..” jeans panting, scouring his lust-dipped brain for a word that does you justice. his reaction has you preening, dragging down your panties and pecking his lips with a grin. “so’re you.”

your thighs return to their place around his hips, the bare heat of your sexes mingling when you press your clit into the underside of his shaft from its place against his stomach. jeans hands are guiding your mouth to reconnect with his, desire clawing at his chest. “let me taste you.” he breaths.

your pussy flutters at his request, baritone syllables making more slick ooze from your slit. “as much as i would love that,” you link your hands around his broad shoulders, pressing your weight into your knees to position his cock over your dripping entrance. you can see the beginnings of a protest shaping his pretty lips that you’re quick to silence, “i want you to cum.” and when his dick is enveloped with hot, wet softness, jean can’t do anything but gasp.

while the tightness of your cunt is threatening to milk him dry, he knows this can’t exactly be comfortable for you, the wetness of your shared arousal doing little to compensate for the lack of prep. gentle rolls of his hips accompany soft words and presses of his lips to the trail of bruises along your chest. “shh, you’re okay. it’s just me, just focus on me.”

slippery circles are pressed into your clit that have you relaxing under his touch and clenching around his cock simultaneously. “look how good you’re doing, baby.” he whipers, your hazy eyes blinking down to where you’re connected. you haven’t taken all of him, though he doesn’t seem to mind, his thrusts picking up and settling into a pace that has your toes curling. one of your hands slips from around his neck in a stubborn blur. he has to cum first. jean does more for you than he probably realises, doting on you like the angel that he is. they’ll be time for more later. but he has to have the first. your fingers trail the soft skin of his sac, nails grazing the cropped hair at his base that has him shuddering beneath you. you can almost feel his load churning under your touch when you roll the heavy weight of his balls between your fingertips.

electricity is sparking between you—it’s under your skin and in your gut and tethering the beating muscles in your chests.

“i—have wanted you—” his words are choked, impending orgasm a breath away, “—for so fucking long. i fucking—i love you. i’m so fucking in love with you.” his confession comes as he does, searing heat from his release coating your insides and splashing through the depths of your cunt. your foreheads are pressed together as you gasp and whisper against his lips, jeans hips fucking his load into you as he helps you chase your own high.

“i love you. always have.” it’s a little slurred, a little breathy. but when jean feels your pussy squeezing him in a vice, slick sounds of arousal bouncing off of the dark walls of the closet, he doesn’t think it could be any more fucking perfect.

reiner has his tongue shoved down bertls throat when you both emerge, blinking at the harsh light. the group doesn’t even give you a second look, at first. when reiner pulls back, leaving the brunet with pink cheeks and wide eyes, jean is the one to clear his throat and direct their attention to your disheveled figures.

“we’re, uh, we’re gonna head out.”

your hands are intertwined. which isn’t a foreign feeling at all, though his cum dripping down your thighs is certainly new.

“no fucking way.” connie seems to have sobered up exponentially, eyeing your mess of hickeys, wrinkled clothes and jeans wild hair.

“i’ll be damned.” erens smirking with his brows raised as you manoeuvre the little crowd and head for the door. throwing a quick wave over your shoulder, you flash a sheepish smile to your friends, stumbling out a goodbye as jean tugs you out the door.

“uh, happy halloween guys!”

as soon as the door slams jeans pulling you in for a kiss. his lips are quickly becoming your favourite thing so you are not complaining, looping your arms round his waist to pull him further into your orbit.

“so.” you muse, “what’re we now? like.. fuck buddies?” you joke.

jean thinks on it, dramatically squinting his eyes and humming in thought. “i’d prefer the term smash bros.”

the look of disgust that colours your face as you shove him away and head down the street has laughter bubbling in his chest and his hands pulling you flush against his chest.

“you’re so stupid.” you pout, barely masking your adorable smile. “can’t believe i slept with you. can’t believe im in love with you.” you’re teasing him, taking his lips for yourself and giggling against him. but if he’s being completely honest with himself, jean can’t fucking believe it either.

#: @luvkun4 @sheluvzeren @oxygenstarrved @wh0reforlevi

#jean x reader #jean x reader smut #jean x black reader #jean smut #jean kirstein x reader smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x reader #aot x black reader #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #iyrtycsm collab #jean x you #jean x y/n

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simon-rileys · 6 months

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Kyle Gaz Garrick who meets you the most mundane way when you spill your coffee on his shirt on your way out of the coffee pub while he just got in. You stare at the stain on his chest, horrified, and beg him to let you help with the stain since your apartment is only a block away and honestly it is your fault. At first Gaz agrees just to calm you down from the spiral, but then you're talking and god how is he supposed to not ask you out when you laugh like the fucking sun at his jokes, like come on, he is only a man.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who takes you on a date in a park at night, and you tease him, till he's taking out a blanket and a basket out of the trunk of his car and sitting you down at the old romcom projector screening at the park. It's a sweet and quiet affair, you catching him up on characters when he loses the thread, too busy looking at your moonlit profile, and him bunching you up in blankets and his jacket so you don't catch a cold.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who, in fact, catches the cold. It's ridiculous after the places and situations he works in day to day, but he's ready to chance another helicopter incident than hack up another bone jarring cough. His phone rings off the hook till he picks it up to hear your sweet voice, and lo and behold, there you are, at his doorstep with soup and medicine.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who feels something settle just under his ribs when you fuss over him, taking over his kitchen and bundling him up in blankets, holding a steaming cup of mint tea under his nose, refusing to accept his no. You let him clean up and make him change into a clean set of sweats, taking it upon yourself to tidy his room, and there's Gaz, his fever addled mind unable to fully comprehend the domesticity.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who doesn't let you leave after he falls asleep on you on the sofa watching The Emperor's New Groove, and you don't have it in your heart to move him. So there he wakes, fever broken, nose stuffy, to find your heart soft under his head, your tshirt stained with tears and mucus and sweat, and yet the first instinct you have after waking is to press those soft hands against his head to check the fever.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who is so aware of how his heart can't even be called his own since you're all there is in it. You mourn your plants over dinner and tell him about your nosy coworkers, and Gaz's heart aches with how familiar it all feels. How familiar you feel.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who doesn't feel the butterflies, doesn't feel his heart jump. It's a quiet kind of settling, where his soul knows you. It's not a holy shit you could be mine, it's more like whoa, there you are, because he's been yours since you looked over your shoulder at that park, your hair shining silver under the moon and joked about the cheesy movie.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who tells as much to the 141 on his first day back, because hiding it is no use after the way his face lights up at your caller id asking if he got to base safely. He half-regrets it immediately once he sees the look on Johnny's face. Price is no better and honestly is somehow worse than the Scot, where the two of them can't wait to meet 'his sunshine'. (Their words not his he would like to say on record. (NOT that he's arguing)). The only bearable one is Simon, or so Gaz thinks, till you're on a video call and Simon cracks one of his jokes and then there you are going back and forth on the driest humor known to mankind. Soap is about to bribe you with scotch from his personal stock just to make the two of you shut up, and Kyle's lips hurt from the grin he's been sporting for the past half hour. He's so happy he could marry you.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who will in fact marry you. He tells Soap as much after the ring falls out of his desk in a bout of tipsy chess-boxing that Ghost suggested to sharpen their minds and bodies. Kyle had suspected he was joking again but LT's humor is hard to discern sometimes and well they were bored anyways. Price congratulates him with a toast, Simon offers him a firm shake and a short 'good job Gaz' that he acknowledges for the emotion it carries in the soft eyes behind the mask as he tells Gaz he made the right choice. He would've had more affection in the return hug for the one Soap offered had the Scot not clapped him on the shoulder with too much enthusiasm and made him fumble the ring on the floor.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who watches silently in absolutely terrifyingly slow motion as the ring slips his grasp and lodges itself deep into the crevice between his desk and the wall and the floorboard, evading his desperate attempts to catch it.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who will propose to you as soon he gets back. Just- just let him find it first. And yes it is objectively hilarious to see four highly trained and virtually killing machines on the floor trying to get a ring out of the crevice but they have big fingers and they're drunk. Gaz is seriously considering another ring. Price is telling him not to give up. They're too drunk to notice the pencil knife on the desk that can be used to pull the ring out. It takes them 87 minutes. They all pass out on the floor of Gaz's bunk till your call comes through.

Kyle Gaz Garrick who smiles like a madman as Price tells the same story in his Best Man's speech, the ring now shining on your left hand that's been in his own hands since you reached the alter hours ago. There's dents on the inside of the ring where they tried to pry it out of the corner using a tactical knife. Kyle suggested repairing it but got it halfway out of his lips before being silenced by your 'don't you dare!'

Kyle Gaz Garrick who spills coffee down his own shirt three years later in the morning after you wake up to him holding the pregnancy test you forgot to pick up from your vanity after your call making sure his plane touched down safe.

#is this anything?#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #jace.txt #i have never played this game #but I tried #just let me know if the characterization is wrong and I'll try better next time

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killersbasement · 2 years

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slashers cuddling hcs

i realized this morning that i themed my whole profile around pyra and then FORGOT TO INCLUDE HIM in the last headcanons sorry traignl man my beloved

characters included : micheal myers, jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, thomas hewitt, brahms heelshire, billy lenz, pyramid head

warnings : none

micheal myers

not very physically affectionate by default, shows his appreciation via acts of service and not murdering you

but, if you insist

he has to be the big spoon refuses to compromise and is the most stubborn person alive

you might be able to finagle being big spoon if he's already asleep though good luck

acts kind of annoyed if you sit on his lap when he's sitting but will pull you back down when you go to get up

veryyy mixed messages

pretty good cuddler though 7/10

jason voorhees

loves cuddles!

like most of the bulkier slashers makes for a great teddy bear

will complain if you get up but lets you go if you need something

big spoon most of the time just cuz he feels like it's 'right' but will accept being little spoon and likes it more than he thought he would

he's like one of those huge dogs that thinks it's small

will just lay on top of you without warning when he's feeling attention-starved and maybe crush your bones

he's cute though so don't say anything about it

9/10 hes rlly cute

bubba sawyer

also a giant teddy bear unsurprisingly

but he has like a really high body temperature by default so with the hot weather in texas you might start overheating

he's used to it but it might take you a while to not start baking when he hugs you

tempted to tease you about not being used to the country weather but won't

really wants to be physically affectionate but will let you go if you ask

if he's asleep you're done for though

also likes being little spoon and big spoon, depends on what you want or his mood

8/10 and 9/10 if you have high heat tolerance

thomas hewitt

the shoulders on this man

he's absolutely huge, a unit, if you will

great for lying on top of/using as a pillow

he's a little cooler so you aren't gonna start melting whenever you guys cuddle

he has an iron grip on you though so don't expect to be leaving in a reasonable time

unless he has to go do something in which case he will begrudgingly let you go

i'd say a solid 9/10 cuddler and maybe a 9.5 if you don't mind staying in place for a while

brahms heelshire

hope you don't have anything to do today

not that you can leave the mansion anyways but brahms absolutely refuses to let you go once you guys start cuddling,

unless you're literally about to die he's holding on

i already went over how touch-starved this fool is and if you start giving him affection like this he's gonna want it 24/7

he's a good size to hold/be held by though, small enough to wrap your arms around but big enough to lean on properly

very much likes sitting in your lap, even if you're smaller than him he wants to sit there

also pet his hair he'll freak out

8/10 cuddler but also better if you like staying in one place for a bit

billy lenz

literally wrapped around you like a koala bro

likes laying on top of you with his head on your chest

HE CAN PURR I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

you'll just be sitting there with him on your lap and he'll start purring away

might confuse you if you've never heard him do it before and claude is somewhere else

he has a lot of cat mannerisms actually

if you've ever had a cat on your lap and it falls asleep so you can't get up until it does imagine that but with a dude

you're gonna be sitting down for long periods of time if he falls asleep on you

9/10 i love getting pins and needles

pyramid head

ok so he's also like micheal as in he's really bad at showing affection

as far as he's concerned keeping you alive and not gutting you like a fish is enough

and yeah that's appreciated but like c'mon

when you sit on his lap for the first time he's kinda confused but gets used to it and ends up kinda liking it

he feels like he's keeping you safe from the dangers of silent hill when you're sitting there so go ahead

he is..very sturdy and easy to lean on

good luck if you wanna push him over to lay on him cuz its not happening

also his pyramid head thing gets in the way a lot so have fun maneuvering around that

overall i'd say he's like an 8/10

#micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #slashers #wow thats a lot of tags #headcanon

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kirisakiss · 1 month

Text

— hi guys!! i’ll be updating this every few days so check if you wanna know more! :)

Character profile (WIP)

“let our blood intertwine the way our love does.”

TW: Suicide mention, child abuse, neglect (?)

GENERAL INFORMATION

— KANJI: ヴァンソーン・ヒカリ

— RŌMAJI: Vanthorn Hikari

A living puppet, one of the many attempts of Karlheinz to create the perfect creature, Hikari was adopted alongside the Mukami brothers from the orphanage, but was kept locked in Rotigenberg for a long time as Karlheinz experimented with her. Lilith, he called her, his first prototype.

— ALSO KNOWN AS:

Lux Mortis (Real name) Lilith (by Karlheinz) Bitch-chan, Hypocrite-chan (by Laito) Lux (by Ruki and Azusa; her real name.) Hika-chan (by Kou) Hikari (by Yuma) Annoying woman (by Kanato)

— HER NICKNAMES FOR THE DIABOYS:

WIP

PERSONAL INFORMATION

— AGE: 18 (physically) — BIRTHDAY: January 25th — SIGN: Aquarius — STATUS: Alive — RACE: Human? / Doll? / Homunculus? / Humanoid thing? — GENDER: Female — SEXUALITY: Bisexual with no lean! — HEIGHT: 167 cm — HAIR COLOR: Brown (dyed), Bone white (natural hair color) — EYE COLOR: Turquoise — OCCUPATION: 3rd year High School Student at Ryoutei Academy — AFFILIATION: Karlheinz, Mukami Family — RELATIVES:

Karlheinz (Caretaker?)

— HOBBIES: Drawing — FAVORITE FOOD: Rice and Curry — CV: Saori Hayami

APPEARANCE

(insert an illustration i havent done yet !) WIP

PERSONALITY

WIP

HISTORY

(insert illustration of her as a child and of her mother that i haven't done yet)

Born to Lysandra Mortis, a woman renowned for her otherworldly beauty and rumored to possess magical powers, Hikari's early years were tainted by tragedy.

Lysandra, a prostitute whose enchanting beauty captivated her clients, met a grim fate at the hands of one of them, leaving behind a small baby with eyes as bright as the stars. Lux, as she was named, was born into a country torn apart by conflict, and her mother’s death added to the countless casualties of the war. Her father was never in the picture; leaving her orphaned and alone at a young age. Lux was placed in an orphanage, where she endured years of neglect and hardship like the majority of children that were victims of the war.

Lux inherited her mother’s rare beauty, which captivated those around her. She was considered a beautiful child, with bright turquoise eyes resembling gemstones and ivory, long wavy hair, decorated with a pale, almost doll like skin; which made her stand out among the multitude of children.

Thanks to this, Hikari was given nice treatments, she was given beautiful clothes, toys, and delicious food that she had never even seen in her life; along with a room of her own that was in a better state than the others. However, her beauty became both a blessing and a curse when the orphanage's caretakers, desperate to make ends meet amidst the chaos of war, started offering children up as merchandise and "entertainment" for the aristocrats in the country.

Lux was one of the first children to be offered, and she quickly became one of the most popular among the aristocracy to use. She quickly gained fame by being compared to her mother, some of them called her“little Mortis”, directly comparing them. They enjoyed seeing the bruises form in her skin, and the contrast the scarlet of her blood made against the white of her hair.

Her innocence was ripped from her without a warning, leaving behind scars that ran deeper than the surface ones showed.

Hikari’s only comfort was a small group of kids she met through Kou, a bright child that approached her one day in the aristocrat-filled clubs, a victim of the same fate she had endured.

One day, a tall man with white hair, arrived at the orphanage, promising hope and happiness to Lux and her friends. Karlheinz was his name. He took Lux and four boys to the demon world, where Lux would see her best friends for the last time.

Waking up in an unfamiliar room, Lux found herself alone with Karlheinz, who revealed they were in Rotigenberg, her new home. Karlheinz, aware of Lux's potential from her mother's stories, began experimenting with his magic on her. He gifted her a new heart crafted from his powerful magic, granting her abilities beyond those of a normal human. His plan was starting, and she was to be one of the first subjects.

However, as his experiments progressed, it became apparent that Lux's severe trauma rendered her unfit for the role of the perfect "Eve" he so craved. “Lilith” he called her. The original, broken one.

Disappointed by his failed experiment, Karlheinz slowly withdrew his presence from Lux's life, leaving her alone in the tower where she had been subjected to his experiments.

The abandonment by Karlheinz, after initially showering her with attention and affection, shattered Lux's fragile state of mind. Faced with reminders of her past torment, she resorted to drastic measures to cope with her pain, including cutting off her long, silver hair that made all the memories from her childhood come back like a knife against her skin.

Years passed, and just when Lux had resigned herself to a life of solitude, Karlheinz returned with a new proposition. He presented her as a crucial component of his Adam and Eve project, a pawn in his game now started game with fate. He renamed her Hikari, meaning "light," perhaps as a cruel reminder of the beacon of hope she once represented. Desperate for a sense of belonging, Lux accepted her new identity and dyed her hair brown as a symbol of her desire to leave her painful past behind, she grew it again, but kept it shorter than it used to be in her childhood, and resorted to wearing thick chokers again.

She had one mission, to serve as motivation for them to fulfill his plan. She was then sent to the Sakamaki mansion under the excuse of a new bride, her true motives hidden beneath a façade of compliance and obedience perfectly crafted to charm the potential "Adam"s.

RELATIONSHIPS

WIP

ABILITIES

Immortality - Hikari ceased to age due to Karlheinz's experiments, and cannot die of natural causes. Her immune system is almost perfect, so human illnesses don't really affect her, she can only die if the wounds are too much for her body to heal itself.

Faster Healing - Her body has the ability to heal from injuries at an accelerated rate. Wounds that would be dangerous to humans heal within a short moment for her.

Enhanced senses - Hikari’s senses are heightened to be more than a normal human's. She can see better, hear better, and moves with grace and agility that surpasses human limitations.

Magic - It's unknown if Hikari's talent with magic is due to Karlheinz own magic or due to her mother's supposed one; but it seems she has an easier ability to it than a common human.

ETYMOLOGY

Hikari's name is written in katakana, but can also be written in kanji as 光.

Both of her names Hikari (ヒカリ) and Lux (ルクス) mean "Light" - Lux being in Latin and Hikari in Japanese, her name just seems to be a translation unlike how the Mukami's have different original names. (Like Yuma being called Edgar and Kou Emilio).

Her last name "Vanthorn" (ヴァンソーン) comes from the word "Vanus" in Latin, which means "vain" and the English word thorn.

Her real last name, "Mortis" comes from the Latin word "Mors" which means death.

TRIVIA

WIP

#ⓘ⸝⸝﹕bloody fangs #𖤐⸝⸝﹕cor cordium #𖦹⸝⸝﹕maru draws #୨୧⸝⸝﹕undead doll #tags ➜#dialovers oc #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #dialovers #diahell

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goodboyaudios · 4 months

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Just to feed my brain worms on this- by any chance have you thought of an AU where Zed actually JOINS Makkaro? If so, what would happen? Would he still have tiny feelings towards the Guardian?

Hmm...an AU where Zed joins Makkaro...let me think...the goals of each character don't exactly line up. Zed wants the Guardian to be freed, Makkaro wants to take over the world for his idea of love. Doesn't quite work, so we'll go the route of sneaky covert ops!

Okay, here's what I've thought up (using my canon names so don't get confused):

Let's say Gienne trusts Zed enough to be willing to tell him her secret. That she's the wife of Makkaro and only wants to put things back to the way they were. Just she and him living happily together.

Zed agrees to help, but at this stage, they've probably also got Mirrin with them considering Gienne would need time to get used to them.

Gienne would probably blackmail Mirrin into helping considering he doesn't want anyone finding out he's in Scimitaria looking for the Guardian as it might stir conflict between the Sultans and the remaining Jarls of Fusfeimyol. And if they here the princess of Manas City was involved that brings in a large portion of Manasia too.

So Mirrin agrees if it means they have a plan to get in with Makkaro.

Gienne's plan is to go back to Makkaro after being "saved" by Zed, who will also bring him news that the Jarl of Senthine is in the Scourge Lands as well.

Makkaro takes this pretty well and decides to admit Zed under his wing s an apprentice of evil, but he's not fully trusting of him and decides to block off access to high profile information to add better internal security until Zed can be trusted. This includes Raze.

As Makkaro continues plotting, making the vampires, suffering from Guardian Blood poisoning, Zed and Gienne are recording any and all information and sending it back to Mirrin, who has teamed up with the Sultan of Hilts on the front lines attacking the Tower of Ordos.

Mirrin is then using that information to get an upper hand and actually helps the Sultan defeat the undead and capture Ordos AND the Demonomicon, but the fight between Mirrin and Mahann still happens, with both parties living as Mahann escapes.

Upon hearing of the loss, Makkaro's pain expands tenfold from pure stress and paranoia. He calls in a full retreat to his castle and declares that the only way this could've happened is if they have a spy in their midst.

He interrogates each of the vampires, including Mahann who says that perhaps it might be his new young apprentice who has been behind the scenes this whole time. Or maybe even his wife.

The mere mention of Gienne being a traitor causes Makkaro to snap and permanently scar the vampire's body. He then keeps him locked up without any food, water, or blood until Makkaro is satisfied.

However, Mahann's words still echo in his head. Makkaro confronts Zed about why he wants to join and what he's wanting to achieve.

Zed simply says that he believes in Makkaro's ideals and tries to make it sound like Makkaro is actually doing a good thing by uniting everyone under one mindset.

Makkaro is taken aback by how nonviolent Zed's take is on his conquest. Believing there isn't a bad bone in his body, Makkaro decides to grant a request for Zed as a reward for being so faithful. Zed asks to see Raze, because he's always wantd to meet such a powerfully divine figure.

Makkaro agrees on the condition that he not approach her. Zed agrees and is taken to Raze. Zed has to hide his horror and worry at the sight of Raze, but Makkaro also remarks that he's never seen her in such a disgusted state.

Just then, Makkaro feels Shee Khan awaken as the castle is being attacked! Makkaro and Zed leave, but not before Zed gives a hopeful glance to the Raze as if to say, "I'm coming back for you".

The attack is an air raid led by the Sultan of Hilts and on the backs of sandrakes. Shee Khan is batting the attackers out of the sky wit it's tail and nothing is getting passed or hitting the castle.

Gienne is furious with Mirrin who went ahead and told the Sultan where Makkaro was. It wasn't part of the arrangement and Makkaro could be captured, but from what Mirrin has gathered, Makkaro is beyond any saving.

Zed rushes in and tells Gienne where Raze is and that maybe she might know how to save Makkaro. Zed has to stick with Makkaro so it's up to Gienne to get Raze out.

Gienne finds Raze, but before she finds a way to break the lock, she begs the Guardian to save her husband. She knows that she has no right to beg for such things after what she has allowed to have happen to Raze, but all the same, she just wants peace.

Raze, reluctantly, agrees. Upon releasing Raze, she uses her magic to search for Makkaro's location, uses magic to teleport over to him and takes away his necromancy. The catalyst is gone. Zed sees her and falls to the floor in shock.

As Shee Khan falls, Raze then teleports outside as Taurus bursts through the castle and joins up with Raze. Together, they cast a spell simply called, "know divinity". A spell that would let them all know that the Guardian is here to declare an immediate ceasefire.

Raze looks around. She sees all the people desperately looking at her for answers on what they should do. All she can think of is the times where she never could get through to anyone. Why would now be any different? She tells all of them to begone and never speak of what has happened here.

Once they do, Raze is alone, floating above the castle, thinking of what to do, now that she's free. Eventually, Zed calls her from down below.

She descends and Zed gives her a big hug and starts crying. Raze, taken aback, had been thinking that Zed might've betrayed her, but seeing this has made her confused and shaken.

Zed explains that this was all to get her free and that he had no choice, to which Makkaro will overhear what had transpired and immediately turn on Gienne for tricking him so horribly.

Gienne protests that she had no choice. That it was the only way to see the man she loved again. Makkaro, still grieving the loss of his entire army and the remains of his best friend, collapses from a mix of raging emotion and newly nullified power.

Gienne rushes to her husband, but not before Zed says one last goodbye as Raze teleports away with Zed in tow.

What happens then...might spoil MotH 20 so I'll leave it alone, but it would pretty much end the same way, funny enough. On a side note, I definitely think Zed would put some underhanded magic in the creation of the Vampires. Perhaps a dormant explosive enchantment to kill them should the need arise.

(wow this ended up being long lol)

#good boy audios #goodboyaudios #youtube #asmr roleplay #asmr boyfriend

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warsamongthestars · 9 days

Text

MORE TBB + CT HCS!

Since I didn't chase anyone off the first time, how bout some more? This round isn't nearly a storied as last round.

THE BAD BATCH did not grow up with each other. I know, counter to a lot of HCs. Each BB had a batchsquad that they were given back to (with flagged profiles about being apart of the 99 project--DO NOT DECOMMISSION), and thus, had an original regular clone trooper batch-squad at one point. This is where they got their names and social experience. WRECKER was a apart of KILO SQUAD. His Batchmates, were Chopper (who was later assigned under Sergeant Slick; TCWs), Boomer (Also known as Clone-Sergeant 2207; 501st; TCWs), Basher (the only CT out of the unit to make it into the Empire Era; SW Detours), and Hardcase (who lost his life during the Umbara Campaign; TCWs). Kilo squad were known to be happy-go-lucky destroyers of the training rooms. HUNTER was a part of ETA SQUAD. Three confirmed members of ETA Squad were, Tracker (212th; apart of the Dark Disciple series), Trapper (212th, formerly 91st--saw the battle of Ryloth, and the Zilo Beast incident; TCWs), and Hound (Coruscant Guard, Mastif Handler; TCWs) CROSSHAIR was apart of OMICRON SQUAD. With Hawkeye (91st, died during the Zilo Beast incident; TCWs), Longshot (212th, died during the Lola Sayu Mission; TCWs), Scope (104th; SW:CWA) and Sinker, of the 104th Wolfpack. TECH was apart of a soft-shell tech squad, with two confirmed members--Switch (CP-6824; SW:CW:RH) and Chatter (501st; radiotech).

Unfortunately, thanks to an incident that occurred to CT-9905 (a 99 projector (and original character)), Four of the Six / Seven of the 99-Project clones were finally gathered to be a team. ( CT-9905's fate is unknown. ) ( CT-9902 would be regulated as a Kaminonian Assistant. ) ( CC-9900, the "proof of concept" 99er, whose regeneration abilities served as the genetic-patch to prevent further clones from over-aging in their growth tubes--was already apart of the Republic Commando training, and would not be joining any other 99er. ) The original squads would be broken up and either sent out alone to other legions, or would be assigned to different squads.

HUNTER'S ELECTROMAGNETIC SENSES allows him to know when something has a static charge. So rub against a carpet, and he'll just know you have the charge. He describes it as if the feel of the air became spicy. Basically, he's a living voltage detector. Could probably tell you when your battery is dead.

WRECKER'S BONES are unbreakable. This isn't actually a form of mutation, but a form of later-life augmentation. That same later life augmentation staved his life when a bomb or charge went off near his face, and instead of pulverizing his skull (and thus his brain), it only pulverized the closest soft tissues--like his eye and inner ear.

WRECKER'S ENHANCEMENT allows him to have flexible muscle mass; allowing him to pick up and move objects without prep work, and to with stand any aftermath soreness. Thanks to the later-life augmentation, he has the strongest back in human existence. Unfortunately, a side effect of this is weaker organs, and a weaker heart. His enormous muscle growth has resulted in at least one near full organic transplantation, due to the muscle growing too fast for the organs to keep up. The abnormal strength of the muscle, thanks to be spliced with other-than-human genetics, is also what required the later-life bone augmentation, or risk his very muscles crushing his bones by movement alone.

Wrecker does not remember much of his childhood, due to the sheer growth pains from his enhancements.

TECH suffers from severe nearsightedness, and its been suggested, that as he's been spliced with Kamoninan genetics in order to ensure a "computational brain", that his eyes are more suited to underwater environments. Funnily enough, he does actually see in the water better. Not great, but better.

TECH, having been spliced with Kamoninan Genetics (whom are primarily amphibious), did have a vestigial-tadpole tail in his infancy. It went away as he got older... but he does occasionally have " Nonexistent-tail wiggles" when particularly excited, as a left over response--he finds them quite unprofessional and embaressing, but sometimes, one just gots to wiggle in place to get all that energy out.

Thanks to the Genetic splicing, Crosshair was actually born blind, with his eyelids semi-permanently shut (Not unlike a baby bird). They would open over the course of his first month; but this shows that not only does he have powerful eyes--he has powerful eyelids to compensate for those eyes. Its theorized that, if he had normal human eyelids, he would've seen through them.

The AlphaGens, or the famous 100, were the first clones in existence. They were the proof of concept, the Sparten-2's to the regular clones' Sparten-3, with minor enhancements and power armor--but also with the first severe issues that would come along during the Kaminonian's cloning. 99 was the final "successful" AlphaGen, whose gene-glitch aged him drastically in his growth tude, and whose problem would later be "patched out" with later clones, with the 99 project. ( Most Gene-patch projects were usually named after an AlphaGen's number; for example, there was the failed 17-Project, which attempted to gene-patch out premature white hair--did so with no success, and actually introduced Auburn and Blond Hair into clone troopers, as well as the additional problem of premature balding. ) ( Or the gene-patch project, 24-Project, that attempted to patch out Blue eyes--which catastrophically failed and resulted in blindness. ) 99 Himself, who was aware of the project being based from him, kept an eye out for all the "99ers", in what little ways he could. It is a well known AlphaGen trait, after all, to adopt BetaGen or Regular Clone Troopers. For example; for a young Wrecker, with uncontrollable strength, and great terrible growth pains, he left a small "tooka" doll made from baby cloths and what little fluff he could find. 99 would not officially meet a 99 Team, until after the loss of 9905.

99 himself, as the AlphaGen of Maintenance, knew of the secret places undernearth the Kaminonian Cities. He often worked around where CT-9902 did And he knew of the canceled OmegaGen clones project.

THE OMEGA GENERATION Cloned from a different prime, Arla Fett, the OmegaGen project was an attempt to create force-sensitive clones through "natural incubation" in order to "garden" the growth of midi-chlorians in a clone. Only two surviving clones were the result of the OmegaGen project--Omega-01, who was born via designated incubator (Heavily implied to have been the OmegaGen Prime), and Omega-02, who was the result of the Kaminonian typical method of cloning... and deemed a failure due to lack of midi-chlorian count. The project was deemed a success--but the expense and the time taken to make OmegaGen clones was deemed unacceptable, and the project was canceled after the first successes.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars hunter #star wars wrecker #star wars tech #star wars crosshair #star wars 99 #star wars omega #star wars headcanons

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bonefall · 1 year

Text

BB!Tigerheart -> Heartstar

For @noisycitrine and @halogenwarrior who wanted more info on the most woman ever.

[Image ID: An AU version of Tigerheart from Warrior Cats, now named Heartstar. She is a small, lithe russet-brown tabby with a long tail and bright golden stripes. She has a two-colored mane, raptor claws, and oval 'glasses'. There is a bright golden 'heart' on her chest.]

FUN FACT did you know that Canon ShadowClan had 7 male leaders in a row, from Houndstar to the modern arc? I said no. Girl Tigerheart be upon ye.

Names are sacred and carry immense weight in Clan Culture. When a cat is about to become a leader and would have a name conflict with an unfaded ancestor, StarClan renames them. Heartstar was particularly special.

She returned to the Lake after bringing back the love of her life, Dovewing, and died in a raid to take back ShadowClan kits from the Kin's remnants. Tigerheart's father, Rowanstar, couldn't bear to lose his last child. He declared her his deputy, and plunged into the Moonpool with her body.

He drowned the last of his lives away, so that she could live. StarClan itself was awed by this sacrifice, and performed a miracle. Heartstar burst from the water sputtering, ready to rebuild ShadowClan anew.

As a leader, Heartstar is back and ready for the controversy. She watched her Clan fall apart twice, once from Dark Forest meddling and a god's games, and again from Onestar refusing to lend aid during a yellowcough epidemic, and has vowed to never let that happen again.

She's ferociously protective of her family, supporters, and clanmates, in that order, and is not afraid to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss if she thinks she's doing the right thing.

Clanmew Name: Gaorbabun, Babishai (Tiger + Heartbeating, Heart will Beat + Star)

Alignment: ShadowClan, brief periods as ThunderClan and SkyClan

Relationships: Mate - Dovewing Children (adopted) - Lightleap, Shadowsight, Birchkit, Rowankit Parents - Tawnypelt, Rowanstar Siblings - Dawnpelt, Flametail Nespring - Strikestone, Sleekwhisker, Juniperclaw Mentor - Marshwing

Below the cut is trivia first, then all the changes to the character arc-by-arc, up to OotS, AVoS, and Heartstar's Rise.

Trivia!

Rowanclaw is now the son of Brokenstar along with Littlecloud! They were honor-sired for Newtspeck.

They have a distinct bi-colored mane from their mother, and 'glasses' from their father.

Tigerclaw's family trait is being brown tabbies with raptor claws.

Heartstar got all of the traits because she deserves it

I also miss how she was once described as having 'gold' in an older description so compromise; golden stripes.

I feel like you can't just miraculously resurrect without some kind of cool physical change, so, Heartstar gets to have a raised heart-shaped keloid scar on her chest.

She didn't sire any of her kittens; Light and Shadow were Bumblestripe's, and Strikestone's death left two more behind. It's free baby.

Heartstar fights in perfect tandem with Dovewing. Heartstar is so small that she can leap freely around and under her, skilled enough to never trip her up.

Their favorite tactic is for Dovewing to grapple with a huge opponent, allowing Heartstar to pop like a weasel from up between her legs to viciously attack the opponent's belly.

Tigerheart was the smallest member of the Tigerkin family, by far. In a lineup of record-setting Clan giants, Heartstar is barely larger than an apprentice.

She is much smaller than her entire family. Pocket pikachu.

Heartstar's favorite food is crayfish. She likes how most Clans are unsettled by this, Reedclaw was unbothered.

BB!OotS

Change NUMBER ONE is that Tigerpaw is the only survivor of Tawnypelt's second litter, born during the Cruel Season that saw the rise of Bramblestar.

A tom-kit initially named Goldenkit, the other kits in the litter died to illness. Before her last child died, Tawnypelt angrily challenged StarClan by renaming the survivor Tigerkit.

"Go on, take a tiger into the stars so it can bite your faces off. No? Thought so."

Dawnpelt and Flametail were their cool older siblings, Tigerkit especially idolized Dawnpelt and her quick sass.

The rowdy and troublesome kit was assigned to Marshwing, the cat that Brackenfur saved from an eagle during the Great Journey, now one of ShadowClan's finest warriors.

Marshwing's mentor was Oakfur, who liked to joke that whenever Marsh wanted to admit defeat he'd take the little twerp instead.

Tigerpaw met Dovepaw on the journey to unblock the southern river.

During this time, Dovepaw made her realize that she was definitely not a boy and probably also a lesbian.

This was to Rowanclaw's soft amusement when she returned home, as he is also transgender and figured it out after going on a long journey

"Maybe if we send you out again you'll come back with another one"

Dove and Tiger were fast friends after this eye-opening trip. Dove's perspective expanded to include the other Clans and the death of Rippletail made her realize how much they matter.

Tiger's perspective expanded to, "I do whatever i want because I want to see Dovewing"

Unfortunately for them, tensions between ThunderClan and ShadowClan were beginning to sour. Blackstar and Russetfur were not fond of the new management style of Bramblestar and his aggressive deputy, Thornclaw, both of which had recently taken power shortly before Tigerheart was born.

Unknown to Bramblestar, Thornclaw was training in the Dark Forest, and trying to encourage him to act more aggressively than Firestar.

Tigerpaw started training in the Dark Forest through her good friend Redpaw, who was brought in through his mentor Applefur. Applefur was the sister of Marshwing.

Her paternal grandfather was Brokenstar, and her maternal grandfather was the infamous Tigerstar. If Tawnypelt had given her this name to ward away StarClan and protect her death... then surely there was a power to gain from him?

Tigerstar took a shine to his granddaughter immediately, introducing her to his dead son, Hawkfrost.

It was very surprising to not find Brokenstar in the Place of No Stars, but Runningnose was there to... "explain" is not the right word, more like, "cryptically leave breadcrumbs of answers"

Tigerpaw was often pitted against Ivypaw in particular, as if their mentors considered them rivals. It fostered a resentment between them, especially as Dovewing began to speak highly of Tigerheart.

Tigerheart remained a supporting character, someone that Dovewing was able to talk to for a different perspective from her father Lionblaze and sister Ivypool, until near the end of the arc during a fateful battle

Attacking ShadowClan for control of a contested berry patch, Russetfur was killed, and Blackstar was devastated.

A troublemaking calico creature slid into his good graces. Sol, God of Chaos and Games, convinced him to abandon his leadership.

In the scramble, Redwillow, Ratscar, and Applefur took control of ShadowClan, and started enforcing their own rules. Tigerheart was more cunning than them, and realized they were not going to be able to keep power.

She was threading a thin needle, not openly supporting her fellow Dark Forest trainees, and she knew it.

When they were thrown out of power by Rowanclaw rallying Blackstar to return to power, Tigerstar punished them harshly in the Dark Forest and praised Tigerheart for her foresight.

Shortly after, Flametail had figured out the plot. Redwillow, Ratscar, and Applefur were freakishly strong and Thornclaw was encouraging Bramblestar not to help. They were all in cahoots!

The Dark Forest used their powers to kill him so he'd be silent, ice cracked by demonic meddling.

Tigerheart didn't know if she was going to be able to save his soul, but she had to try. Once again, Tigerstar had ignored the warning sign to preserve his family, calling off the execution.

In that moment, it proved to Hawkfrost that he was undeniably playing favorites. It wasn't about the plan. It wasn't about breaking out of the Dark Forest. It was all another project for Tigerstar's ego... and he was not valued like his bloodline through Tawnypelt.

(Go check out my meta intentions with Hawk's redemption arc over here!)

During the Great Battle, Tigerheart stayed to watch the embarrassment of the first attack, but defected as soon as the fighting got serious in the second one. She wasn't going to hurt her Clanmates, haughtily announcing that this was the best opportunity to, "join the winning side."

After the fight, Dovewing's powers started to ebb away... taking her hearing with it. Meeting with Tigerheart was always refreshing, sometimes it felt like she was the only one who really 'understood' what she wanted.

Things began to get serious when Tigerheart's apprentice, Sleekpaw, developed a rebellious streak, and a group of strange cats arrived at the lake. Onestar reacted badly, and ShadowClan fell to the kin.

BB!AVoS

If Tigerheart has any regrets, it's how she was careless with her niece. She didn't think it was a problem to just let her work it out.

It seemed... harmless. Kids who wanted to feel cool and powerful, she could empathize with that.

The apprentices weren't wrong, at first. The way Onestar immediately became upset about the outsiders, the way two kits were separated because of a vague prophecy, how Clans refused to cooperate even after everything. Tigerheart was frustrated by much of it too.

But there was something wrong about Darktail. Especially when he announced that he was accepting any cat who felt wronged and excluded from Clan society.

Maybe the impulse was harmless. Maybe Darktail was the problem in the end. In any case, the yellowcough outbreak ravaged ShadowClan and the Kin, and WindClan refused to let either of them collect mullein to treat their sick.

Dying to yellowcough is a horrible fate. Catmint can cure, but mullein must be used to prevent lung damage. Tigerheart watched clanmates survive the illness, only to choke to death in the end.

Crowfrost, the deputy and Tigerheart's brother-in-law, was one of them.

Crowfeather, Harespring, and Heathertail went behind Onestar's back to deliver what they could, but too late to save many cats that Tigerheart loved.

After this, ShadowClan quickly fell apart. The Kin was stronger, having immediately kicked the sick out of their group and quarantined.

Cats like Scorchfur said that if Rowanstar wasn't a weak leader, he would have made "hard choices" and done the same

Tigerheart realized that every group had a different reason for following the Kin. Some wanted Clans to be harsher. Some wanted more diplomacy. Others were just looking for connection.

She's smarter than most, and realized that this was much like the Dark Forest. The Kin was everything and nothing, and that meant there was probably an ulterior motive behind it.

They couldn't be trusted.

But no one listened to her. ShadowClan crumbled, she had to flee, and her last memory of her sister Dawnpelt is the image of her worried expression over her shoulder, leaving her behind in the Kin's new camp.

Dawnpelt wouldn't separate herself from her kits, including Sleekwhisker.

An ancient curse was filled yet again, tabby tiger watching their golden sibling fade away.

While staying with ThunderClan, Tigerheart found herself wrapped up in the messy sort-of-relationship between Dovewing and Bumblestripe

Dovewing was clearly unhappy, caught between two uncertain options, growing increasingly frustrated with ThunderClan

When Violetshine brought SkyClan back to the Lake for the final fight with the Kin, Tigerheart decided she needed to go be with her freed Clanmates, wherever they were to go.

Tigerheart asked her to come, but Dovewing wasn't ready. She couldn't leave her Clan, especially not when it wasn't even clear if the ex-ShadowClan cats would be fully accepted into SkyClan

Shortly after making that choice, Dovewing became pregnant. Dread twisted into panic as she realized she didn't want to raise kits with Bumblestripe, the thought of ThunderClan constantly speaking over her as a parent sunk in, and the knowledge that she had already turned Tigerheart down overwhelmed her.

With ShadowClan disbanded, Rowanclaw refusing to choose a new deputy and rejecting his remaining lives, Tigerheart and the survivors had to try and get used to being part of SkyClan.

Heartstar's Rise

This is a summary; go ahead and see the 1st draft outline of Heartstar's Rise over here!

After Dovewing choose Bumblestripe over her, Tigerheart returned to the ShadowClan survivors

They had been annexed into SkyClan, as Rowanstar was refusing to lead after his Clan fell apart under his watch

He never replaced Crowfrost after his horrible death, and was calling himself "Rowanclaw."

Ironic, that he was now in the same position as Blackstar, just before he was made deputy... but this time, there was a safer, more stable Clan for his cats to serve. He was convinced he was doing the correct thing.

This was causing problems related to the ex-ShadowClan cats having a lack of autonomy over themselves; they were no longer a Clan, but still felt like one.

They didn't want to be SkyClan cats. They were ShadowClan.

Tigerheart was more of a leader than Rowanclaw, but he was insisting ShadowClan would never have another star to its name.

"Let it rest in peace."

But before she could hatch a plan, Dovewing vanished, and Tigerheart was told by Poppyfrost (open to change) that she fled because she was pregnant.

So, of course, Tigerheart charged off to go find her.

After traveling far, far east for many days, she hit the church of the Guardians.

While there, her resolve to rebuild ShadowClan only grew stronger, though she promised Dovewing that this time... it was her choice.

She would stay and raise the kits with her, become a Guardian. Anything.

Dovewing, however, felt that this wasn't right either. Tigerheart needed to get home, her love of ShadowClan was completely different from Dovewing's dread for ThunderClan.

And... though she loved it here, she would love being wherever Tigerheart was.

Several guardians decided to join them for their own reasons; Blaze, Ant, and Cinnamon.

Spiresight is probably not going to be one of these (open to change); because he is now the leader of the Guardians. His name refers to the Guardian's new leader ability to sense anything that happens in their territory through the flora that grows there. It was not a name given by Tigerheart.

They came back to SkyClan and ex-ShadowClan cats having an argument over kittens that the Kin's remnants were still in possession of.

Yarrowleaf had been exiled from the Kin remnants and was begging for them to go back and 'save' the newborns Hopkit and Flaxkit.

The ex-Shadow cats wanted to launch an attack to steal back their own kittens and those of dead relatives; Leafstar was vetoing this out of a mix of wanting peace and seeing that the Kin remnants also had a right to the kits through being parents, relatives, etc.

Yarrowleaf especially; how could she know if she was telling the truth that Nettle was a danger to the kits? Yarrowleaf could have been exiled because she was the danger.

Tigerheart decided that enough was enough. ShadowClan was clearly still a separate Clan in their hearts, and they should be making their own choices, not begging someone else's leader for permission.

She will make controversial, ShadowClan-centric choices as a leader-- this time around, I want it to be less "black-and-white," so that the Kin remnants aren't completely evil and there's nuance to this situation... which Tigerheart tramples, displaying how she makes choices.

But, this time, the raid has a consequence; Tigerheart died in the attack.

However, Dovewing couldn't accept this, and brought her to the Moonpool in desperation.

Once there, Rowanstar refused to watch another child die. Declaring her his deputy, he grabbed her body and dove into the water, drowning away all of his lives so that she could live.

StarClan was touched by this heroic display of self-sacrifice, and was emotional enough to perform a miracle; Rowanstar's last life became Heartstar's first.

And with that life, Rowanstar gave her strength. Strength he used for one last kick, to send her back up to the surface of the pool as he sunk into the abyss below.

After this, Heartstar rebuilds ShadowClan. She can be a very biased leader, often ending up in situations where she lets her family off the hook easier than other warriors, or doling out 'theatrical' punishments just to say she did it. On that note, there are aspects of the code she barely cares about.

For this reason, even with the Clan she has the achievement of rebuilding, she can be quite polarizing. Her supporters adore her; her detractors despise her. This hasn't inhibited her ability to rule though...... yet.

(Better Bones does not cover arcs that are not done yet!)

Her political profile is largely 'soft' Traditionalism. She believes that ShadowClan must come first and that fighting keeps the Clans strong, but is committed to preserving the strength of the other four and does a lot of diplomacy. On Clan collaboration, she leans towards Fire Alone. On most other things, she leans Traditionalist.

#Girlbossstar building her empire #Yassifies your Tigerheart #Heartstar #Better Bones AU #Character Profile #Heartstar's Rise

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tangledinink · 7 months

Note

MY CHILDHOOD LOVE, WARRIOR CATS MY ONE AND ONLY

I MADE MY FIRST OC'S, SELF INSERTS, AND PERSONAS FOR THAT SERIES

WE WARRIOR'S FANS STAND TOGETHER IN OUR SEA OF BLOOD AND PILE OF BONE

oh BIG MOOD. i was obSESSED with warrior cats for AGES. like. lowkey baby's first true hyperfixation. i deVOURED those books. they were typically too expensive for my family to buy (esp coz there were SOO many of them) so every time a new one would come out i'd beg my mom to bring me to the bookstore and then i'd straight up just sit in the aisle and read the entire thing then and there.

warrior cats is definitely, like, a huge part of what truly got me into drawing/writing/storytelling. i used to dedicate hours to illustrating scenes from those books. i had four HUGE handmade posters up on my wall as a tween with each and every cat from each and every clan that i'd update as the allegiances changed in the books. i used to design 'warriorsonas' for each and every one of my classmates because i was a super normal child. warriors is how i got into roleplaying, which was definitely a huge influence on my writing-- i read in an interview when i was, like, 11 that the erins sometimes got inspiration for warrior names from roleplay sites, and i was like!!!!! omg i have to start roleplaying on roleplay sites so that one of my warrior names get into the books!!!!

(they never did lol)

but i still obSESSIVELY roleplayed online for YEARS, i'd draw all my characters and draw my friends' characters, too, and scenes from the rps. we'd all write PARAGRAPHS upon paragraphs with, like, proper grammar and everything (because at that age and in those circles, roleplaying *with actions in asteriks* and stuff was CRINGE and everyone KNEW that the LONGER you wrote the BETTER your writing was, obvs, and that was the only factor--) i spent, like, every waking moment on this massive chatroom-based site called kugyay that had, like, hundreds and thousands of users in its heyday. granted, like, most people had more than one account (so you could have a custom profile for each character, obvi) but i remember everyone freaked out when we hit more than 10,000 accounts.

i could talk about my experience with warrior cats and all my various ocs for... like.... ages. also like. this is random and won't mean anything to most people, esp coz i only posted, like, a few pages about it, but i also want y'all to know that this graphic novel that i desperately want to bring to life and do justice someday and that i've dedicated SOOO much time thinking about is... like....... 1000% inspired by/based on warrior cats lowkey. like. i am infected. forever and ever.

#warrior cats #warrior cats warrior cats warrior cats warrior cats #my pets also lowkey have warrior cat names #i used to spend ALLL my time on kugyay and like. it was considered like a BIG DEAL to have a 'high rank'#ie have a character who was a leader/deputy/medicine cat #and it was SUPER competitive coz there could only be 16 at a time at most and again there were literally THOUSANDS of users #and when my oc brownowl became the thunderclan medicine cat i was like #omg #ive peaked #this is the greatest accomplishment of my life. ill never do anything greater. this is it #my god i have so many memories #like it was in many ways fucking horrible lol but it was also? great #and definitely made me the writer/artist that i am today #asks #sorry i rambled so much i just like #have warrior cat thoughts all the time they Mean So Much To Me #i could also talk about that dumb graphic novel idea for ages and ages #kugyay

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voiidegg · 2 months

Text

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR AA: DUAL DESTINIES UNDER THE CUT :D

i finished the game this morning, i’m on 5 hours of sleep, i stayed up all night playing it because i got way too invested.

NOT ONCE. NOT ONCE DID I SUSPECT THAT IDIOT OF A DETECTIVE. IT WAS ONLY UNTIL THE VERY LAST MINUTE THAT I REALISED. i felt absolutely sick to my stomach when i realised. i don’t even know why i trusted him so much, i literally thought he was just irrelevant to everything. there were NO HINTS. my brain absolutely HURT

hell, even I HAD DOUBTS about athena. i thought perhaps the murder was just a huge mistake. i figured out that athena must have been the one to put her mothers body on the operating table because she would think it could fix her, but i was in the dark about everything else. the MINUTE athena talked about blood getting on the handle, i knew it couldn’t have been her, i was so relieved.

i cannot begin to tell you the absolute CHILLS i got when miles revealed that the real bobby fulbright is DEAD. and had been for a year. that was the most chilling thing i’ve heard in this franchise so far and i don’t even know why it got to me so much. i think it was the thought of how the real fulbright had family, and nobody confirmed his death for a whole year, so that family was wondering where he had gone. it hit me right in the feels cuz personal experience :,) i don’t even know if that fact is true, it’s just something i thought of.

this case was absolutely amazing. usually i (and i’m sure many others) can figure out the culprit just before the final trial, but i was left in the dark for so long. even when that cctv image of the phantom showed up, i knew it had to be somebody we already knew, because why would they introduce a new person so late into a case? so i looked at every profile hard, AND WHEN I GOT TO FULBRIGHT’S, I RULED HIM OUT, SIMPLY BECAUSE I COULDNT LINK HIM TO THE MURDER 7 YEARS AGO. i was at such a loss on who it could have been.

and then, the one statement aura had after establishing the escape route. and i froze. this is by far the best case in the franchise, i couldnt stop playing even if i wanted to. there were so many bone chilling moments, like the emotions overload from blackquill, the NO emotions from the phantom, the messing around with emotions from him, finding out who he was posing as, him getting straight up sniped in the courtroom, apollo questioning athena.

and GOD SPEAKING OF APOLLO the way he just suffered alone i cAANTT ugghh. and poor athena… she was just a kid T^T

also i revoke my previous statement about blackquill. he’s a good guy. can be annoying, but he’s good at heart. i enjoyed his character in the end. i can’t imagine how furious he must have been when his phantom of 7 years was right under his nose the entire time. blackquill did everything to protect athena and i found it so endearing, i love what they have, it’s so sweet. i think i just need to learn to give prosecutors a chance, because i always dislike them until the finale, then when their motives are revealed, i see sense and i like them.

i was so angry i didn’t get to see the phantom’s face, but after sleeping on it i’ve realised that’s actually better than seeing his face. i dunno it just feels more right for his true face to mean nothing.

so, to conclude my ramble, what a game. so worth me staying up all night til 10am for :] i don’t think anything can top that, but i’ll be pleasantly surprised if it happens

i may follow up this post with some video reactions i clipped, we’ll see :D

#my post #hayley’s ace attorney adventures #gaming adventures #ace attorney #apollo justice #ace attorney dual destinies #apollo justice trilogy #phoenix wright #turnabout for tomorrow

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bonesandthebees · 3 months

Note

Hi miss Bones, I’m here to ask for advice. I know since you said you’d be willing to offer some, you probably have a lot of asks like these, so feel free to leave this one be!

Like you, I’ve written a lot of fanfiction with c!Wilbur in it. Most of them I still love the concepts of, I have good memories of writing them and uploading new chapters, so I don’t think that I will delete them all; maybe I’ll orphan them, I don’t know.

But there is one in particular that I’m having tough feelings about. It’s my most popular fanfiction by far, a modern vampire AU in which c!Wilbur is a lonely, miserable, manipulative dick (mostly drawing inspiration from the Pogtopia arc). As it’s a vampire fic, there is a fair amount of biting involved, which is painful for the recipient, and while I was planning on giving him an arc where he gets better and his victim (think Anne Rice) gets to go and live their own life separate from him.

The abusive nature of their relationship, paired with the whole biting thing, makes me kind of uncomfortable having it on my profile. But I know that a lot of people really love that fic, and are patiently waiting for an update I’m not sure I can really give without feeling queasy about it. But at the same time, I don’t want to let down the people who will continue to have no problems reading stuff like this about c!Wilbur.

Should I let it sit for a while, and see if these feelings absolve themselves, or just call it a night, upload the rest of what I have, and let it go?

hmm yeah that's a very tricky situation anon. I completely get the conflict you have with that, especially given the biting context. the unfortunate thing is that there is no right or wrong answer to that, because you're writing about the character, not the guy, and the biting is in the context of vampirism which makes sense. but also at the same time it just feels weird given the irl situation right now and I totally understand that.

I would say don't make any decisions just yet. you are under no obligation to announce what you're doing with the fic right here right now. give it time. let your feelings on everything settle. ask friends who read your fic what they think you should do. and maybe in a few days to a week if you're still unsure on what to do, maybe ask your readers themselves. add a chapter titled "not an update" or something and ask for their thoughts. or if you have your ao3 attached to your social media, ask on your social media.

again, there's no right or wrong answer to that, and if you do end up continuing to write the fic I'd recommend putting a big disclaimer in your next authors notes laying out all these complicated feelings you have about it. I wish you luck figuring it out anon

#ask #anon #wilbur situation

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c00kietin · 3 months

Text

@imytheone WHOO

I HAVE COMPLETED THE DRAWING!!

I shall also tag @allmightyscroll-swag as well cuz I like tagging em in oc related stuff :3

While I have drawn the siblings profiles, and Brittany making some appearances, Imma tell you MORE information about them!! >:D

One quick thing: These four are my oldest ocs (along with two others but you don't know em eheheh) from 2020 and at the time of making them I had just found out what Helluva Boss is. These characters were very much inspired off of them, especially Cici and Brittany.

Let's start off with the youngest:

CICI

Like I said, she is the youngest being around 6-7 years old

Pronouns are she/her, I'll just say aroace since I don't picture her being in a relationship at her age-

Cici is part demon thanks to her mother, but hasn't developed horns or a tail yet.

However, she has some powers, that being super strength and flight!

She can't fly very high, although she is the strongest in the family; being able to lift around the same weight as a van full of people. The older you get, the weaker your powers would become; so Cici, Onika and Zeke's mother would have the weakest powers.

Cici swears more than Onika and Zeke, mainly because of her mother. She gets in trouble at school regularly for this. That and for throwing chairs around. And for biting teachers' ankles. She gets in trouble for a lot of things.

Like all children, she has tantrums at times. But, of course, hers tend to get more...violent. Usually ending up with someone breaking a bone or two.

For hobbies, Cici enjoys drawing, roleplaying with toys and making things (whether that's with Lego or metal scraps-)

She doesn't listen to music as much as her siblings do, but her favourite artists are Pharrel Williams and Five Finger Death Punch.

She has insomnia and has a lot of difficulty sleeping.

Her and Onika love watching TMNT together, and are currently on Rise.

Cici's original design was heavily based off the girl with the large bow and brown curly hair that appeared in the first episode of HB. I was quite unoriginal at the time lol.

ONIKA

Onika is the middle child, being 15 years old.

Her pronouns are she/they, and they are also aroace.

Onika's powers aren't as strong as Cici's, but she can fly better and can piggy-back the weight of two adults.

Onika technically has a tail, but it's now a stub because a group of bullies cut it off.

Yeah. She was bullied when she was younger. She was jeered for being both demon and human, and neither species wanted to be friends with her.

This was also mainly because she had anger issues which caused her to have violent episodes if provoked enough, one time being she almost killed a teenager younger than her.

Luckily, she's gotten better now and is practically never violent. Except in Mariokart.

Onika is usually either hyperactive and energetic, or utterly lazy and unmotivated.

She desperately wants to get Maori tattoos like Zeke but her parents don't allow her.

She hates wearing skirts and having her hair down.

Onika doesn't have a lot of hobbies, but she enjoys trying new foods, skateboarding and playing the guitar.

Her favourite artists are AC/DC, Metallica, Twisted Sister and Iron Maiden.

I'm pretty sure I based the hair off of another character I saw online once, but I can't remember her name- all I know is that the hair isn't original:'D

ZEKE

Zeke is the oldest at 19 years old.

His pronouns are he/him and he's gay.

Zeke uses his powers the least and only really uses them for miniscule tasks around the house like moving a bed or fighting his sister.

Yeah. Zeke and Onika fight a lot, more physically than verbally, and it's usually for stupid reasons, like who rightfully had the bag of pretzels first.

Zeke has both a tail and horns (which are still growing).

He also has difficulty with keeping his body temperature warm, so he wears a lot of layers and a lot of black to keep in as much heat as possible.

He has Maori tattoos along the back of his left shoulder as well as part of the left arm, but rarely shows these to people.

Zeke has been teased by many to have a "baby face", which annoys him greatly.

He can be mostly found in his bedroom gaming, listening to music or curled up in a ball in bed.

He likes sleeping. A lot.

His favourite games to play are mainly action/shooter games (I'm not an expert in this department so feel free to decide which ones he likes playing) and occasionally likes to play RPGs.

His favourite artists are Green Day, Linkin Park and The Offspring.

BRITTANY

Brittany is also 19 years old and is best friends with Zeke.

Her pronouns are she/her and is an asexual lesbian.

She has the ability to fly, and being incredibly tall probably has some advantages too.

I honestly don't know how her and Zeke ended up being friends, but they just did.

Brittany is a very affectionate person and adores hugging, cuddling, complimenting and kissing people (non-romantically).

She also adores fizzy drinks and cats. She ADORES cats. And animals in general.

If she was to encounter a cat, whether that be an anthropomorphic one or not, she will give them double the amount of affection.

When Brittany's happy, she wags her tail about, shakes her hands and squeals. She does this quite often.

She can be extremely chatty and talkative and could go on for hours on end talking about almost anything.

However, Brittany is extremely clumsy and is prone to falling down the stairs, tripping, running into windows and/or getting her horns stuck in things.

Her hobbies are shopping, going to cafés and watching romcoms.

Her favourite movie is Love, Actually and her favourite artists are Ariana Grande and Twice.

Her original design was heavily based off of Verosika from Helluva, and I still can't let go of the long white hair + pink skin combo :') Fortunately, I think I've managed to differentiate Brittany from her, or I hope-

OKAY I AM NOW DONE I should be sleeping-

#my ocs #oc art #art #long post #infodump!! <<33 #thank you for letting me do this lol #cici #onika #zeke

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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

Note

Hey, I can see you're busy, but I know you like to see our OCs and I finally have two of them finished, at least their profiles. I don't have any sketches of the sort yet. Anyway, I'll send them seperately bc, as I said before, they are pretty damn long and I was not sure in the slightest what to cut out. I had a lot of revamping to do since I started these years ago and now that season 1 is out and done, changes needed to be made XD. Anyway, here's the first one and I'll send the second one shortly. Changes may be made in the future, but this is in fact the bare bones of the character and I'm quite proud of it :D.

Name: Jeanette “Jean” Sawyer

Gender: Female Born in: 1956 Died in: 1973 (age 17)

Cause of Death: Suicide/Hypothermia Height: 5’2 (alive), 5’10 (current)

Appearance: pale blue skin; black hair with white frosted tips on the end; eyes with icy blue sclera and a white iris; body type on the slender side, inverted triangle body type; forearms are larger than normal with white scars going down the length; often seen wearing warm clothes and arm warmers Species: Sinner Nickname/s: Jean, Jeannie, Shrimp, Kid, Kiddo, Shortstack, Toots Likes: cooking, skating, milkshakes with french fries, mini golf, listening to music, watching movies, carnivals, singing, dancing, trying new things, board games, cats, people watching, anything soft and warm, stargazing, camping Dislikes: the Vees (Vox and Valentino in particular), the cold, the dark, her arms, pineapples, most electronics, being the center of attention Sexuality: Lesbian Sins: Suicide Job: Hazbin Hotel Patron Background: It is difficult to get a grasp on what kind of person Jean is at first glance considering how much distance she puts between herself and others. In life and in death, stability was a luxury that Jean never truly had, making it difficult to open up to others, let alone fully trust another person. The only trustworthy constant in her life was her hardworking mother, whom she always looked to as a role model, confidant, and caretaker.

Life was rather difficult, but both felt that having each other was all they needed. One day, Jean’s mother died, leaving her with nobody to care for her. For two years after, Jean was passed around in foster homes where she was beaten, scolded, and (the final nail in the coffin) had a foster parent attempt to sexually assault her. In a flash of panic, she killed her would-be rapist and she couldn’t help but fall into despair, deciding to take her own life after fleeing the current foster home in the middle of a blizzard.

Upon entering hell, Jean was more confused and helpless than ever. Once her first extermination came around, her mother found her and brought her to safety where they would essentially live life from where they left off. Jean rarely went out on her own with the fear of the sinners often leaving her frightened for herself and her mother who often left to provide for them both. At a sudden point, her mother seemed to vanish for a few days before returning to her. Things seemed to change after that. It seemed her mother was bringing in more money than ever before, leaving them much better off; however, many things felt off as well. For one thing, her mother seemed to be more on edge. She also wouldn’t allow any electronics other than what she tinkered with and any time Jean ever went out, she never went alone. Then one day, her mother never came home and couldn’t be contacted. Concerned for her mother’s wellbeing, she searched for any leads and she found one in her work-related files: a business card belonging to VoxTek.

Upon entering Vee Tower to inquire about her mother’s whereabouts, she was swiftly intercepted by Vox himself. He told her she was indeed in the building devoting herself to a new project he put her on and offered her a tour as the daughter of one of his ‘top employees.’ She hesitantly accepted, wanting to heed the warning her mother gave of interacting with strangers yet drawn into the shiny new world she had just entered. Jean had never seen technology so advanced before and began to wonder why her mother never showed any of it if she indeed worked there. The answer became all too clear once two people inserted themselves into the situation: her mother, who found out she was there and rushed to protect her, and Valentino, who spotted the young sinner with no master and was drawn in immediately.

One thing led to another and, upon Valentino harming Jean, her mother incapacitated both of the overlords in order for Jean to escape. Unfortunately, her mother was not so lucky. For ten years going forward, Jean lived in hiding and fought to survive on the meager resources her mother stashed away and what little she could receive from her via care packages. Jean often read the hand-written notes her mother included with them in order to feel close considering the danger of meeting with each other in person. Even from a distance, her mother always relayed the same message, which was also the last words she ever heard from her mother: ‘Keep your soul. Don’t trust these dealmakers.’

After some time, Jean accidentally trespassed onto the turf of a mysterious entity (at least as far as the other residents of Hell save for a few were concerned). She was quick to find out the entity’s true identity: a powerful sinner named Sibelle, a girl around her age that perished centuries ago for witchcraft. She allowed Jean to stay in her territory and over time, the two grew extremely close even to the point of Sibelle wanting to make a deal. Jean was quick to try and decline until she heard the terms of the deal: Sibelle was offering her soul and in exchange, Jean was free to summon her and use her power so long as it wasn’t for selfish reasons. In the former’s eyes, the latter would be able to call on her should she need help while she was outside the territory. As Sibelle would explain, her power is prone to force her into violent rampages and she had been in search of someone she had full trust in to form a soul contract with in order to keep her in control. After a while of asking, Jean had been worn down and accepted the deal. Not long after, Jean had decided to move on despite Sibelle’s protests and pleads to stay for her safety. However, she was sure that she couldn’t stay forever as she was now determined to find a way to free her mother from her contract with Vox.

One day, Jean encountered Charlie and Vaggie as they were recruiting patrons for the hotel. Charlie was more than eager to drag her along and talk Jean’s ear off about her idea and, with the short amount of time they had known each other, that she’s positive that she had an excellent chance at redemption. Mainly because of curiosity, hope and really having little else to do, Jean accepted and moved into the hotel to see she was one of two patrons. Once Alastor and his crew enter the picture, she does feel her walls coming down and finally confides in Angel Dust about her past, feeling he would understand considering their connection with Valentino. In Angel’s words, if Valentino ever found out she was there, it wouldn’t be from him.

Outside of redemption exercises, Jean can be seen throughout the hotel interaction with the other residents doing a number of things such as: playing cards with Husk, babysitting Fat Nuggets, and being Alastor’s unwilling little helper. She would grow especially close with Angel Dust and Husk, growing to see them as an older brother and father figure respectively. Personality: As previously stated, Jean faces some serious trust issues due to lack of stability in her life and (the very obvious) trauma inflicted on her by those she was told she could trust. It would take a great deal of work and time to break her walls down, which is honestly what she is hoping to find (basically, too afraid to initiate steps to build trust and needs others to take the first step…s). She’s quiet, almost to the point she sneaks up on people and spooking them with no intention to do so. Many initially found it creepy save for Alastor, who found the startled reactions to be quite amusing.

Despite this, the persona Jean puts on in front of others is one she copies from her mother: a no-nonsense spitfire that refuses to submit to anyone. Of course, it is merely a front she copies as she’s seen her mother use in order to deal with the more threatening individuals. Dying at the age she did, Jean did find it easy to be rebellious though it clearly proved to be her downfall many times. Although her age makes her more prone to naivety and recklessness, it does allow Jean to remain open to new ideas (hence willing to try redemption) and not become set in her ways like a lot of adults tend to do with age. Unfortunately, this also means that Jean’s younger mind isn’t able to handle emotions and stress as well as an adult would, making her prone to emotional outbursts and meltdowns.

Habits & Quirks:

Jean wears arm warmers constantly even if she is wearing long sleeves

Is a quiet person to the point where she ends up sneaking up on people

Is always cold, most likely due to dying partially to hypothermia; strangely the intensity of how cold she feels depends on her mood

Has a terrible sense of direction. One of the very few reasons she owns a smartphone is for the GPS. It’s also why she studied astronomy when she was alive in order to read the stars for direction.

Trivia:

Jean has a baby face, making her look younger than she actually is. It’s especially amusing when Charlie practically exclaims “not in front of the baby!” or “she’s just a baby!” while covering Jean’s eyes and/or ears. It can be quite embarrassing yet she can’t help but feel slightly flattered. But mostly frustrated and embarrassed.

Jean gives nicknames to all her friends and family, using them in her journal and as their contact name in her phone. She rarely addresses them with these names in real life, but likes to do so on occasion

Charlie: Princess Bedhead 👑🥱

Vaggie: The Warden ⚔️

Husk: ♣️King of Clubs♣️ (AKA ♥️Dad♥️)

Jean is seen to be very sentimental. Considering how little she had in life, it made sense to her to place value in the very few things she did possess. Her most prized possession is a photograph she managed to hold onto as she died of her and her mother at their local state fair.

Since the confrontation with Vox, Jean had developed an aversion to most electronics, even the ones not developed by VoxTek. She still gets anxiety any time she has to pass by any screen.

STOP WHY CAN I PICTURE HER AND FAT NUGGETS CUDDLING I CAN'T-

#THE AMOUNT OF LOVE #AND THOUGHT YOU #PUT INTO HER #AMAZING #I'M JEALOUS #NEVER STOP

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karatekels · 2 months

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Mediation - Chapter 7 - TIGmas Day #9

Welcome to the continuation of the transition from "I don't know karatekels, this may be a bit farfetched" to "oh, this is obviously just crack fiction to get two TIG characters to bone the same woman".

And YES, I've accepted that and I hope you all enjoy this very convenient, likely unrealistic plot. Or maybe I'm crazy and you think it works? Let me know!

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Mediation

Chapter 7: Reconciliation

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Cash’s POV:

The uncomfortable silence brought on by your departure stretches on, neither man willing to be the first to break it. Terry’s body is still somewhat turned towards him, but he stubbornly refuses to look Cash in the eye.

Cash, meanwhile, is still reeling from the new information that has come to light in the past hour or so. Learning that Terry’s adamant refusal to hear him out over the years wasn’t because he hated Cash himself, but because the betrayal had shaken him to his core has Cash lamenting the other man’s stubbornness. All this time, Cash thought that Terry had been angry with him, but in reality he was mainly angry with himself, at the changes that the hurt Cash had caused had drawn out of him. Knowing that the younger man had resorted to excessive force – and to the point that cases had been dismissed because of his mishandling of suspects – after years of being a compassionate cop by his side was particularly disturbing. That wasn’t the Terry McCain he’d known, the one close enough to be a brother to him.

And then there was you.

Cash knows that you aren’t in love with him the way you are with Terry. He isn’t overly bothered by it; your relationship was still far too new for either of you to be in love with one another. But to hear from your own pretty mouth that you felt enough for him that you were unable to choose between him and Terry, that you needed them both in your life…

Well, that has him happier than he can remember being since before he went to prison.

Sure, it may have complicated things between the three of you even more than their already twisted dynamic, but for the first time in over half a decade, someone firmly wanted him in their life. Of course, the sex had been amazing, but there were plenty of other avenues he could go down to scratch that particular itch if he had to. Being genuinely cared for, despite all the things he’s done, was far more priceless to him. And you all but insisting that Terry had to make peace with him if he wanted you to remain in his life was just icing on the cake.

“So, is she right?” he asks, in a far better mood and more than willing to break the silence now that he’s had a moment to reflect on everything that today has given him.

“About what?” Terry asks stubbornly, still looking at the floor. Cash’s gaze softens as he looks at the pained expression visible in the younger man’s profile. He had been happy to show the new kid the ropes when he’d first joined the force as a rookie, but they’d connected as friends so quickly that Cash had assumed that the mentor/mentee dynamic had disappeared shortly into their time together as partners. Apparently, the same had not held true for Terry.

“Do you actually hate me, or do you just hate what happened, and how it went against the way you used to see me?” he presses, trying to be gentle. Trying to rile the man up was a viable strategy when he’d thought that Terry was angry, but the depth of his hurt required a different, more delicate approach.

“How many different ways can I say I don’t want to have this discussion?” Terry snaps, turning his body away from Cash. He tries to ease the tension by incorporating the man’s one known weak spot: you. He privately hopes that you won’t be mad at him for it, should you ever find out the specifics of this conversation.

“Look, I could be way off base – you’ve known Y/N much longer than I have – but she seems like the type to swallow that key over letting us free before we’ve done what she wants.”

“…No, you aren’t wrong about that,” Terry reluctantly admits after a moment of silence, chuckling to himself. Cash smiles but says nothing; if the past few years had taught him anything, it was the importance and value of patience.

“So, she knows what you want to tell me, huh?” Terry finally asks him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Cash stays still, not wanting to spook his friend into putting up his walls again.

“Yeah, she knows,” Cash says quietly, staring at his hands, twirling his ring around his finger. “Had to prove to her that I wasn’t lying about last night when she came in here guns a-blazing.”

“Oh. Oh.” Terry says, and Cash assumes he’s thinking back to last night, judging by the way the man’s dark brows furrow. “So she didn’t know about this until today? That’s probably why she…”

“Jumped into bed with you so willingly? Yeah, probably,” Cash jokes with a snort. Hoping that the other man isn’t too offended by his cavalier reference to the night before, he tries to soften the blow. “I shouldn’t have slept with her. It wasn’t right,” he adds with a frown.

He doesn’t regret the decision to have you – you both needed it, at least once – but he does wish it hadn’t caused Terry so much pain, that he hadn’t had to see it with his own eyes.

“When have you ever made a decision based on what was right?” Terry sneers, and Cash sighs, staring over at the other man until he looks him in the eye.

“Do you really discount every good decision I’ve ever made based on one mistake, Terry?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“One mistake? Please. You lied to me for a year. We were partners, we were best friends; I trusted you with my life, Cash, and I had to watch you throw yours away.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Cash snarls, standing and turning to look down at Terry. Much like the younger man, he didn’t want anyone’s pity either. “Do you think I don’t know that I fucked up my life for good, that I didn’t screw you over in the process? I know, Terry! I’ve had five years to sit with my regret; some days I can’t think of anything else.”

“So then why did you do it?!” Terry explodes, springing up off the couch and shoving Cash in the chest, nevermind that the cuffs made him follow right after as he stumbles back. “We were good, we were solid, we did the job right! We were on the same page about everything!”

“Look at how you ended up reacting, Terry! I had to keep it from you.”

“But why do it in the first place, Cash?” Terry presses, a clear note of vulnerability and desperation ringing in his voice.

“I needed the money,” he replies, bracing himself to tell the man the reason he’d done all this in the first place. Running his hand through his short grey hair, he idly wonders if it will be enough to make Terry reconsider his attitude towards him.

“And you thought going against everything you’ve ever stood for was worth making a few bucks?” Terry scoffs dismissively, trying to cross his arms across his chest defensively until the cuffs jingle, reminding him of their presence.

“I didn’t have much choice! I didn’t have time!”

“Why?! What wasn’t there time for?!”

“My Ma,” Cash breathes, his eyes closed.

He feels Terry still next to him. He can’t even hear the sound of the man’s breathing, and presumes he’s stopped.

“I’d forgotten when she died,” Terry murmurs apologetically after a moment. “It was a beautiful service.”

“Yeah well, glad you got to see it,” Cash hisses, his heart filled with vitriol as he recalls memories of being denied day parole, both to visit his dying mother and to attend her funeral. Devlin still had enough sway with some of the people working in the prison to ensure his misery, even after his death.

“I’m sorry, Cash.”

There is a prolonged silence as they each take a moment for their grief.

“The doctors told me that there was a new experimental treatment for her type of lymphoma, but it was expensive. And it was taking her so fast…” Cash explains through gritted teeth, trying to keep his tears at bay. He hadn’t cried about his mother outside of a therapist’s office before, not once, not even when she’d died.

“You could’ve come to me!”

“And what could you have done, Ter? I wasn’t gonna put that on you.”

“You at least could have told me – I could’ve talked you out of being an idiot.”

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t. Look, I’m not proud of what I did. I regret it like you wouldn’t believe. It lost me my job, kept me from spending the last bit of time I had with Ma, from saying goodbye… it lost me you.”

Terry looks over to Cash’s face at this last confession, his eyes vulnerable and yet untrusting, and Cash forces himself to hold his gaze. Terry had to see that having to keep the truth from him, to lie and steal and go against everything that had brought them together had been torture for him as well.

“When everything went down the way it did… I assumed I had lost you long before,” Terry confesses in a broken voice, sitting down on the couch again and taking Cash with him. “I felt like I didn’t know who you were anymore, and I didn’t know how long that had been the case for.”

“For what it’s worth, I was very careful about what jobs I took on – nothing that would risk innocent civilians getting hurt. I know that doesn’t make it okay, but hopefully you see it as a little less evil.”

“Did… did you know about Devlin? How deep into it he was?” Terry asks, and Cash has no problem telling him the truth. It’s all he’s wanted to do for years, after all.

“I didn’t know much, just that he was willing to give me work in exchange for a cut. I knew he pinned some of his crimes on me to extend my sentence, but I didn’t find out about how deep it went until afterwards.”

“Why didn’t you try to fight those charges? The ones you knew were Devlin?” Terry asks, still frustrated and with his sense of abandonment on full display.

“Mostly because I didn’t think anyone would believe me, and I didn’t have the money for a good enough attorney to prove it.”

“Why else?” Terry presses, picking up on a second reason.

“I didn’t want Devlin or any of the other guys to take it out on you.”

Terry stiffens. “What?”

“He visited me in prison once, in ’93, a month before he was officially announced as the next Chief, to brag and gloat, mostly. Said he had to make sure his reputation stayed squeaky clean, and suggested some ways to make sure I kept my mouth shut.”

“Devlin was planning to kill me? Even before all that shit with DiMarco went down?”

“He was at least willing to threaten me with the possibility. Knowing what I know now, he probably would’ve done it. If you were getting a reputation as a violent cop, it would’ve been easy for him to make it look like a mob hit.”

Terry grimaces, privately processing this new bit of information, and Cash allows him a moment or two. He’s more grateful than ever that he hadn’t pushed Devlin to see whether or not he was bluffing; if he had, Terry would most assuredly be dead – maybe taking you out too.

“I don’t like who I became when you went away,” Terry admits with a frustrated sigh. “I was just so angry that you’d willingly turned against everything we stood for. I took it out on any lowlife fucker I came across, I had no mercy; I didn’t care. I couldn’t take it out on you, so I took it out on anyone I could before they were behind bars along with you.”

“Did you ever come close to giving me the chance to explain? I know you got my letters.”

“No,” Terry says, spitting the word out forcefully. “I couldn’t bring himself to see you behind bars, to see what you truly were, or what I thought you were at the time. Y/N was probably right – I wasn’t scared of facing what you’d done, I was scared of what I’d done.”

“What do you mean?” Cash asks, confused.

“I mean that you accepted that what you did was wrong and moved on. You got rehabilitated, you got therapy, you worked on yourself… I haven’t. I got so caught up in this weird vendetta against crime in this city that I just… I couldn’t bring myself to think about what I was doing, or why. I just got worse. Y/N helped keep me from really crossing a line, but only just.”

“Ah, our little beacon of morality on the path to reconciliation,” Cash says fondly. The weight that’s been lifted off of his shoulders – off of his soul – is immense, and he thinks he sees a similar change in Terry as well. Finally, everything was out in the open between them.

“She jumped at the chance to help me with the scrap metal take down the second I said it might give you reason to hear me out, you know,” he adds, hoping they can perhaps bond over the well-meaning complication that you presented.

“She was talking you up way before that,” Terry corrects him, giving an affectionate smile at the thought. Cash isn’t naïve enough to think that the smile is for him, but he’s hopeful that one day it might be.

“Wait, what?” he asks, having just processed what Terry had said.

“She’s been trying to get me to see reason since the day she met you, maybe even before that.”

“How? Why?”

“It’s just who she is. She sees something hurting someone she cares about and she tries her best to fix it, regardless of what anyone else has to say about it.” They both chuckle, thinking back to their memories with you and your tenacity as you tried to force them to confront their situation.

“Before we get off-topic… are we good?” Cash asks hesitantly. He tries not to get his hopes up; all he had wanted from Terry all this time was for him to listen, and now he had. Forgiveness was a separate matter altogether.

“No.”

The word rings out clearly, and this time the rejection hits Cash full on. But he braces himself, focusing on his breathing until the tightness in his chest abates somewhat. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.

“I mean… not yet.”

Cash forces his gaze over to the other man, wanting to confirm the meaning behind Terry’s addendum, and the man is giving him a soft smile.

“I – really?” he asks in disbelief, and Terry barks out a laugh.

“Alright, fine; we’re not good, and never will be,” Terry jokes, and Cash rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Piss off,” Cash snaps with a scowl that doesn’t reach his eyes. Inside, his heart feels like it could be coming back to life. “You just bounce back awfully quick for someone who’s held a grudge for the better part of a decade.”

Terry shrugs nonchalantly in response, the movement tugging at Cash’s wrist. You weren’t due to be back quite yet, but he’s looking forward to getting out of these cuffs.

“Ter, I… thanks,” Cash says sheepishly, uncomfortable with being vulnerable for so long. The two men awkwardly clap each other on the back with their free hands, and an awkward silence resumes once more.

“Y/N is probably going to take every second of the hour we agreed to,” Terry points out off-handedly, though a wicked grin is starting to steal across his face. “That’s not for another twenty minutes. Plenty of time to give her a nice surprise to come back to – as a thank you for all of her meddling. Whaddaya say?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cash says with enthusiasm. The two immediately set to work, and a warmth blooms through his chest as they work together again for the first time in ages, even just for something as juvenile as a prank.

“Speaking of Y/N… what are we going to do about her?” Terry asks as they continue setting up their prank. Cash sighs, pausing to run his hand through his hair. It wasn’t the ideal solution, but he doesn’t think there is one unless they can find a way to clone you.

“I’ll step aside,” he offers, and he means it sincerely even though it hurts. “She wants both of us in her life or neither of us, and the two of you have had more time to develop a relationship. She cares about you enough to push you to finally hear me out; it’s the least I can do for the two of you.”

“Cash…” Terry says, pausing a moment to keep his resolve. “I was an asshole. I’ve been an asshole for years. You deserve someone that gets you and is willing to fight for you, and… if something was meant to happen between the two of us, it probably would have by now,” he admits reluctantly.

“Ter, you just started tolerating being in the same room as me again less than ten minutes ago. I’m not doing anything that might jeopardize that.”

“It won’t,” Terry insists, but he hesitates at the look Cash gives him. “Even if it does, maybe it’s my turn to sacrifice. You’ve been through enough.”

The two men bicker back and forth as they continue their work, an eye on the clock telling them that you were due back within a few minutes now.

“She might not want either one of us,” Terry muses pensively as they crouch behind the kitchen counter, getting into position. “She’s stubborn, and probably not willing to choose if she’s scared the other one will walk away.”

“I think her killing us both because of this is a more likely option,” Cash retorts with a low chuckle that he immediately cuts off at the sound of a car door slamming shut outside. You have returned.

“So we let her decide who she wants, and the other will accept it?” Cash confirms, whispering now as they listen for your approach.

“I don’t think she’d let it happen any other way,” Terry hisses under his breath, right before you open the front door.

“Am I about to walk into a bloodbath?” you call from down the hall.

Maniacal grins steal across both of their faces.

Reader’s POV:

“How the fuck was I meant to react to this, you idiots?!” you snarl at both men sitting on the couch before you, and you can tell that they’re just barely keeping up their guilty routine, their shoulders shaking as they try not to burst into laughter.

You scowl at both of them, contemplating clunking their heads together.

The house had been ominously silent upon your return, and as soon as you’d rounded the corner, the pizza boxes that you were carrying dropped to the ground (though they thankfully remained closed).

The living room was a wreck.

The sofa and chairs in the living room had been overturned, the blinds were crooked, and various objects had been knocked over. Your heart had sunk down to the aching pit in your stomach – you didn’t see any blood, but there was no sight or sound coming from either man that you could detect. A surge of adrenaline accompanied the panic and dread growing inside you, and you’d screamed out for both men, frantically running deeper into the house to search for them.

Nothing else in the house had been disturbed, so you had sprinted back to the front door to throw your shoes back on to go look for them. How could you have been stupid enough to leave them alone? If either of them was seriously hurt, you’d never forgive yourself!

“Going somewhere?”

You’d frozen halfway through lacing up one boot at the sound of Terry’s voice, a sense of dread threatening to overwhelm you. If he was the one here and talking in Cash’s house, that meant…

“T-Terry?” you had called out in a weak voice, still unable to bring yourself to turn around, afraid of what you would see.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” came his answer in a soft purr, the darkly flirtatious tone startling you enough that you’d turned around to face him, seeing him leaning up against the wall in the hallway leading back to the living room and kitchen. Forcing your body to breathe somewhat regularly, you had tried to give him a closer look. He didn’t seem to show any signs of a struggle on his body, but he seemed far too relaxed, except for his eyes, which were almost feverishly bright as they’d stared over at you.

“Where… where’s Cash?” you asked in a high, squeaky pitch, uncertain if you even wanted the answer. Terry’s devious smile only confirmed your fears.

“Don’t worry, doll. I took care of him.”

You had stumbled back slightly at his words, not able to do more than gasp for breath, and Terry made no move to come after you.

There was a tense silence between the two of you, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself, with Terry, with any of this.

The silence was then broken by a disembodied yet oddly familiar snort.

“You can’t tell me she actually bought that.”

Terry’s shoulders sagged, the vicious expression dropping off of his face.

“Well now we’ll never know,” he’d huffed with a scowl, turning to speak to someone around the corner.

“I – what?” you had babbled, your heart stopping when Cash came into view, unharmed and still cuffed to the wrist that Terry had hidden from your view.

They’d both given you nearly identical amused looks that were quickly wiped off their faces at your screech of absolute fury. You’d charged at them, then, spending the next few minutes cursing them out and trying to swing at them, but they had been frustratingly agile in evading your movements, even joined together as they were.

Men were absolute monsters, you’d decided then, growling at them and shoving them back to the couch which had been returned to its proper state.

It seems that the distraught expression that had stolen across your face as you reflected on the past few minutes is too much for either man, both unable to keep their laughter under wraps any longer, going to pieces until you literally hiss at them, feeling so angry you could spit poison.

“You two are absolutely unbelievable,” you snarl, and both men have the grace to at least look mildly sheepish. “You almost gave me a heart attack! Why would you do something like this?!”

“We thought it would be funny,” Terry mumbles, averting your gaze and reaching his free hand up to nervously scratch the back of his head.

“What’s the big deal? I would’ve thought you’d be happy to see us working together!” Cash adds cheekily, utterly unabashed once more. You shoot him a nasty glare, but it only makes his smile grow.

“I left for one hour to give you the chance to grow the fuck up and actually listen to one another. Did you even bother to do that? Or did you just decide on this temporary truce so you could fuck with me?”

Your hands are on your hips as you sneer down at them, still absolutely furious. You’re vaguely aware that beneath the seemingly bottomless well of anger, you’re relieved to see that neither man is hurt.

“Oh please, the setup only took fifteen minutes,” Cash scoffs, and Terry visibly winces, likely anticipating an explosion from you.

“Cash, shut up,” Terry suggests firmly, though his eyes are locked on yours with a pleading expression. “We talked things out, Y/N, I swear,” he says softly. Something about him seems lighter somehow, you notice distantly, and you know that he’s telling the truth.

“So what, I’m supposed to believe that six years of grudges just disappeared within the span of an hour, and you’re both in cahoots again?” you ask skeptically, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Of course not,” Cash says with a roll of his eyes. “But we came to enough of an understanding to put our differences aside and get our revenge on you for being so damn pushy.”

“Excuse me?” you hiss venomously at the older man, but he merely smiles broadly at you, so you turn your gaze over to Terry. “Is that true, Terry?”

Terry clears his throat nervously, refusing to look at either you or Cash.

“We’re very grateful that you didn’t give up on either of us, Y/N,” he says carefully, clearly wary of setting you off further. “We just thought that this might help us breeze past the awkwardness, lighten the mood, show you that we can be in the same room without killing each other, yeah?”

You narrow your eyes at both men, still suspicious.

“So that’s it then? You’ve done it? Kissed and made up and all that?” you ask sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Before you can register the movement, both men have tugged you down so that they can plant kisses to your cheeks like they’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

“Now we have!” Cash informs you cheerily, nimbly dodging your slaps and laughing.

“Not me, you morons!” You exclaim, your face heated as your body responds to being sandwiched between both men. If they’re telling the truth and are trying to take steps to repair their friendship, you’re going to have to learn to not blush every time they touch you. Especially touching you together like that; it was enough to nearly make you moan.

“Well we sure as shit aren’t kissing each other,” jokes Terry, helping Cash secure your wrists when you show no sign of stopping your attack. You wrench yourself out of their grip, still flustered as you look at them from across the room, throwing yourself into an armchair with a huff.

“Well I’m glad you two are all chummy again; you’ll have each other at least, because I’m never talking to either of you again,” you snap.

“Not a chance,” Cash says dismissively, immediately calling your bluff. “There’s no way in hell you’ll stay away after putting all this work in.”

“Come back over here,” Terry adds, giving you a pleading expression.

“Why should I?” you grumble, angry that you’re the one on the receiving end of all of this nonsense.

“To take our cuffs off, for one.”

You don’t even blink, retrieving the key from your pocket and throwing it across the room to them. “Done.”

“Don’t be grumpy just because you weren’t part of the plan for once,” Cash says teasingly.

“That is not why I’m grumpy!” you protest, regretting the words as they leave your lips, watching the predatory look spread across the older man’s face. “I’m not grumpy!” you amend, glaring at Cash.

“Sweetheart –” Terry tries to interject, but Cash cuts him off.

“Going to miss your alone time with us?” he goads you, and Terry smacks him in the chest with his newly freed hand.

“Knock it off, Cash,” he warns the older man. “I’m not trading her out for you, so stop pissing her off.”

“You’re no fun,” Cash huffs, looking back at you to give you a wink.

Your brain doesn’t know what to make of any of this. The two of them were acting so… comfortable with one another, even after everything. If you could barely fathom a world in which they managed to make amends and both stay in your life, imagining a world where they were able to joke and flirt with you was an impossibility.

“I – I don’t understand what’s happening here,” you admit rather helplessly, looking from one man to the other.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? For us to all be together?” Cash asks innocently, pointedly ignoring Terry giving him a look out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think that you’d get over things so quickly, joking about… you know,” you trail off, blushing furiously.

“I never said anything to suggest I wouldn’t bring this up at every opportunity,” Cash leers, and Terry chuckles, sending you for another loop.

“I believe I told you this morning I would be talking about it with you regardless of if we went anywhere,” Terry adds, and is this all part of their dumb prank too? Were they trying to drive you insane?

“Yeah but… together? In front of each other?” you challenge. “Terry?” you press the younger man, knowing that he had the deepest feelings of the three of you. He gives you a gentle smile in response.

“You’re stuck with both of us, Y/N,” he says simply, as though all of this could have a straightforward solution. “Just like you wanted.”

“And because you’re likely too stubborn or loyal or whatever you want to call it, you won’t want to choose between us,” Cash chimes in with a casual shrug. “At least not right away, which means we both get to bug you about this whenever we want.”

“Or, I could leave right now, and hate you both!” you return cheerfully, but they immediately see through the ruse, and you scowl.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Terry agrees condescendingly. “Whatever you say.”

“So what, you expect me to endure you both being annoying just for the privilege of your presence?”

“Yeah, pretty much!” Cash confirms, clapping his hands together loudly. “Glad we’ve worked all that out." You huff dismissively as they both give you wide, smug smiles.

“I give it two weeks before one of us backs out or maims the others.”

---

[The smutty af epilogue will go here - stay tuned!]

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