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skyeslittlecorner · 6 months

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It's 2nd April, so - time to meet the first lucky winner~

As I promised, today the first fanfic for your MCs and OCs. It's quite funny, because the first person in the draw turned out to be the one who entered last. Dear @de1-os, congrats! Looks like your waiting was a good strategy~

Writing was a challenge, after all, this is my first fanfic like this. But I had a great time doing it. Asher is a fascinating character, above all with a very sensible approach to these demons. I hope you will like it!

Note: If anything sounds wrong and ooc, please let me know. I'll change it. If you want, you can also change it yourself, it's entirely up to you, and you can edit these texts however you want.

Also, I apologize in advance for any mistakes, especially if I mixed up pronouns. I write in my native language, where there is no equivalent of "they". I could have translated something incorrectly and not noticed when editing. Then let me know too, of course I will correct it.

Words: ~1200

WHB MC Shuffle | Asher

Asher was the first to leave Leviathan's office. Prematurely - as the waiting Astaroth noticed - because the meeting had recently begun. The councils of Hades ended when their king released them. At least that's what he heard. In Gehenna, they ended when the king kicked them out.

The demon stared at Asher, trying to guess what happened inside. But it wasn't easy when the only thing that changed in their expression was a wrinkled nose. They could just as easily be disgusted or angry as they could be terrified.

“Didn't everything turn out the way you wanted?”

Only a quiet grunt escaped Asher's lips. What were they supposed to say? What always happened, happened today too.

“Glasyalabolas.”

A few days ago, His Majesty Leviathan summoned the descendant of Solomon to attend an extremely important meeting; what was important, only he knew, because Asher was as bored as a pug during political talks. Today's session seemed even less interesting than usual. They achieved a new record of disconnection from the surroundings. They stopped listening before the nobles even started talking. What could they do? They were surrounded by a bunch of hot men, instead of stupid politics, they could have chill out a little. For example, unbutton the shirts to let the chill breeze brush their skin…

Astaroth's snap awakened them before the train of imagination could gain momentum.

“Huh?”

“I asked what he did this time.”

Legs carried them forward, away from this office, as if Asher were afraid that the boredom would spill out and consume them again. Or, even worse, Glasyabolas's hand would land on their thigh again. Although, actually, it wouldn't be that bad. He was quite hot. Except he was an asshole. But what could they do, it only increased the possibilities… They forced themself to at least partially come to their senses. Even though, the fantasies about Glasyal were much more interesting. Yes, they were angry with him, but they still could appreciate a good body and certainly even better skills. It's not easy to shake a connoisseur out of their professionalism.

“He is being himself.” Asher grumbled under their breath. “I'm starting to get fed up with him.”

“Maybe you should take a break. I know a place you might like.”

The place in question turned out to be a cramped shop. The shelves were full of suspicious drugs, they all smelled of herbs and that unusual, sleepy fog surrounding Hades. Raven feathers, stone amulets, and reptile scales were stuffed among laurel branches and incantation ribbons. Astaroth, wrapped in snake coils, looked like one of the exhibits. Surrounded by the mysticism of this place, he seemed even sexier than usual. But why did the demon brought them here?

“Look.” The man pointed to the jar of clay standing at their feet. “These are lumps of earth collected from the place where His Majesty Lucifer fell into Hell.”

Asher bent down and picked up a small thing that looked more like a vial.

“Should it really be standing that low? Someone will kick it and everything will fall apart.”

“The thing is, these stones are extremely…”

They put the jar on a shelf among engraved beads and blue-labeled containers. Old wood groaned and splinters appeared from the bottom.

“…heavy.”

“Never mind.” Asher quickly put that quirk back where it was. It occurred to them that they might throw it at Glasyalabolas. Maybe he would finally get his shit together.

“You're wrinkling your nose again. Are you thinking the same thing as before?”

“Maybe… I'm sick of him, you know? I want to throw it in his face.”

“I think you should let your desires take over. Be corrupted. Be yourself.” Demon reached for a drug with a blue label. “But I propose a more sophisticated way.”

“What do you mean?”

“These are sleep oils with little side effect. You fall asleep faster, but you wake up much more tired.”

Without much thought, Asher grabbed a package three times its size.

“We'll take it.”

The gift they had prepared didn't look suspicious. An ordinary pillow that smelled of lavender. People lie perfectly, so explaining it was supposed to be easy. Asher had some credible stories ready. In fact, they were even a little disappointed that Glasyal didn't ask where the gift came from. All that was left to do was wait.

On the first day, there were no signs of fatigue. As they sat in council, Glasyalabolas was as great and immovable as a mountain. The next day, the mountain hunched its shoulders, but so slightly that they barely noticed it. On the third day, dark circles began to appear under his eyes. The next evening, after a meeting in which Glasyal had given up even teasing them, another thing humans are good at stirred in Asher. Delicate, barely audible remorse.

they stood outside Glasyal's room, trying to think of why they wanted their gift back. Yes, the demon was annoying, but maybe, just slightly maybe, they a little, just a little liked him. Maybe it's a souvenir from another demon? Or maybe a pillow that is always warm on both sides and was mistaken for a real gift? Before Asher could think of anything, the door opened. Weird. They didn't knock.

“Do you need anything?”

“Yes.”

“Come in, then. I know you've been standing here for quite a few minutes.”

Even though Asher entered the snake pit with a straight face, their heart was racing. First, they entered the demon's room. A handsome demon. A terrifying demon. They regretted it even before the door closed behind. Maybe they should come back after all?

All doubts were doubled when Glasyalabolas leaned forward, as if bowing, and took their hand.

“Two can play this game, you know that?”

Not only Asher's heart but also his breathing reached the pace of an asthmatic after a marathon when Glasyal placed their hand on his cheek. He rubbed their fingers under his eye, and the circles that were supposedly from lack of sleep became blurred. Everything that was speeding up, suddenly stopped. Makeup. It was makeup. And worst of all, when they looked closer, the makeup was of very low quality.

“You think I can't recognize sleeping herbs? Especially since you poured so much into this pillow? Even a corpse would be disturbed.”

Instead of letting go of their hand, Glasyal ran their fingers over his lips. They were surprisingly soft and warm. Asher couldn't help himself. They pressed harder, wondering if his tongue was as soft. Anxiety fought with desire as they stared at his tongue as it lazily licked its lips. Fuck. Before they take this pillow away from him, they can still use it in this bed.

They took a step closer and grabbed the dark horn to make sure the demon wouldn't get up. And that he won't have any stupid ideas. Glasyal just muttered under his breath, something that sounded like a cross between a groan and a laugh.

“It was a punishment to stop acting like an asshole.”

“I guess it didn't work.”

“In that case” Asher tugged the horn, forcing Glasyal to bow even lower. “Looks like I'll have to work on this more bluntly.”

The demon knelt down. However, if Asher thought for a moment that he would politely give up, their legs immediately buckled under them. Glasyal grabbed them around the waist and lifted their shirt with his teeth, licking, nipping and biting their lower abdomen.

“I want to see you try.”

That evening, neither of them needed a pillow anymore.

#i'm honestly so nervous posting this lol and idk why #first time writing something so personalized #I wonder if I managed it #whb #what in hell is bad #whbmcshuffle #whb glasyalabolas #whb astaroth #whb mc #whb oc

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lazypanartist · 2 years

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Ride of Your Life

Giacomo x Reader

Notes: my younger sibling gave me this idea, actually! Wrote this in about 15 minutes, starting, like, as SOON as they told me the idea. Kinda OoC. Your character is meant to be your character in-game.

Word Count: 600

-----

"It'll be fun!"

Giacomo shook his head, taking a step back.

"I am NOT getting on that thing! Are you kidding?"

You rolled your eyes, gently scratching under your Raidon's chin. "No, I'm not. You were okay with the Starmobile, but draw the line at something that can jump?"

"Hmm…"

He shook his head, but stepped closer. "I actually value my safety, Y/n."

"That's bull."

He chuckled.

"Of course it's not! I was Student Council president for a while; put some rules in place that're still used today."

Raidon purred quietly, tilting their head at him.

"I've heard that some of 'em we're pretty stuffy."

He wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, so what? They put me in charge, then got ticked off when I tried to get a system set up. Wouldn't exactly call that a me problem."

"Whatever." You reached about again, trying to fight the urge to roll your eyes at his words. "Hop on."

He sighed, taking another step forward. "This is a terrible idea."

"So? If the Pokemon doesn't catch us, my phone will."

"Wha-"

You grabbed his hand, tugging him onto your Pokemon. Quickly hopping on in front of him, you chuckled.

"Grab on!"

"Whoa!"

He lurched forward as Raidon began moving, throwing his arms around your middle. You laughed, and could feel as he chuckled nervously against your back.

"Comfortable?"

He shifted, and you could feel his chin on your shoulder.

"'Bout as good as I'll get."

"Yeah? Then get your head offa there; don't want you to get hurt."

"Hurt- oh."

He pulled his head away, though you could feel him lean into your back some more. His fingers tightened slightly against your shirt, scrunching the fabric beneath his touch.

"Alright, Raidon!"

With no more instruction, the Pokemon leapt into the air. Giacomo tensed against your back, but you could feel him laughing as you landed.

Your ride jumped a few more times, seeming to hover in the air for a few seconds at the peak of massive leaps. Giacomo, at some point, had separated somewhat from your back, though he was still holding you by your shirt. Reaching up from the Pokemon, you squeezed one of his hands.

"Still a bad idea, mister-ex-student-council-prez?"

He chuckled, then began laughing harder again as Raidon spun around midair.

"Almost feels like Navi's Spin Out!"

Raidon landed finally, crouching down. You laughed with Giacomo, giggling dizzily as you slid off the Pokemon's back. He followed, collapsing onto his knees while laughing.

"I wasn't.. hah.. didn't expect 'ya to spin, buddy!"

Raidon churred, gently headbutting your chest.

"Hey now!"

Giacomo made his way up, gently holding Raidon's back for support.

"Wow."

"Yeah?"

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Yeah."

"Never answered the question.."

He reached up, scratching beneath the Pokemon's chin the same way you had been.

"No.. not a bad idea. Thrill wise, at least. Safe, though..?"

You groaned quietly, shaking your head.

"Seriously?"

He laughed, offering you a small smile.

"Still not too bad.. probably 'cause you know what you're doing."

"Nah.." you began scratching under Raidon's chin as well, your fingers bumping into Giacomo's. "It's the partnership."

"Probably why I felt just as safe as I did while on the Starmobile."

You nodded, fingers brushing with his again. "Interpersonal connection."

"Of course."

His fingers twined gently with yours beneath the Pokemon's chin, thumb brushing against yours.

"...So."

"So?"

"..Can we do this again?"

You glanced up at him momentarily, before returning your attention to where your hands were connected.

"The ride, or just hanging out?"

"Both?"

Squeezing his hand gently, you smiled.

"Both sounds great."

#x reader #xreader #pokemon x reader #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon #giacomo #team star giacomo x reader #giacomo x reader #star boss giacomo #team star giacomo #pokemon giacomo #koraidon #miraidon #raidon #team star #kana's ficlets #pokemon ficlet #ficlet #pokemon scarvi fic

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thesoulesscollection · 1 year

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(Request) Crack The Mask

Request: Angst Dmitri; maybe something that involves why he runs the complex the way he does, or maybe something from his past before being the warden? Perhaps whatever it is, it triggers him and none of the employees know why.

Post Fleeing the Complex, Henry and Ellie team up but I did leave it ambiguous kinda what happened afterwards.

I don't write much for Dmitri or well, any of the characters in the wall so I was happy to finally be able to do so. This may have gone a little astray of what you may have requested but I hope this is good. As well, I'm a big fan of writing stuff where Dmitri is vulnerable.

Held up in his office, finally alone, Dmitri kept the door closed by pressing up against it as he took in long, dragged breaths. For once in his life, career path, both that led him to see many gnarly things, he was actually scared to death. It was stupid, humiliating, that he was feeling this way.

Dmitri shouldn't be seen as weak around his men. He was a warden, after all, meant to be tough, no nonsense, serving with the Wall for over fifty years, everyone gripped in his tight iron fist, he's never supposed to have a bad day. Until recently, things went to shit, as the recent prison riot was anything to go by, and now he's in a frenzied panic. Many prisoners were able to slip through the flagrant cracks while others, his guards and him thankfully were recaptured in a short matter of time.

"Hello?" Sat on the floor he heard the voice, crisp yet polite call out on the other side of the door.

"I'm busy, Grigori" In a brittle tone Dmitri can't be bothered to keep a mask of indifference or brisk impatience. "Let me be"

"They're worried about you. You know that, yes? I am too" Grigori cuts in. Despite what he was told to act in his youth, the threat to weep, loudly, like some snot-nosed child is becoming evident. He struggled, wiping his red rimmed eyes haphazardly to rid the pesky tears.

"They shouldn't" He draws out unintentionally on some of the words, cheeks warming up at the embarrassment, hands covering his face.

"We should. As a friend I've known you for decades. I understand what you're feeling. I've been there plenty of times and so has everyone else. But it's going to be fine"

Unwilling to move from his spot on the cold floor, Dmitri breathes deep, shallow breaths, as he hardly believes the man for a second.

"You're not alone"

The warden cracks, casted his head into his hands, bites his lips, an attempt to muffle out the pathetic sounds. "I never had a massive failure like this in my entire career. Not when they came along" He dryly heaves, sobs are choked back. "They ruined me. Everything I have ever worked hard for. I had a reputable career and in a flash they dismantled it"

"I know" In his teary haze Dmitri was still able to hear the shuffling from the other side of the door and the other man's sympathetic tutting afterwards, "Could I come in?"

At first, Dmitri vehemently denied the idea of allowing anyone, including his best friend to enter the office, see how broken he is, and change their whole viewpoint on him. It will reveal his weaknesses to the open where in a lifetime he deliberately hid underneath the multiple secretive layers. Then he surmised it, deeper, this was Grigori after all, who he could trust with his life if needs be.

"... Okay, y-yes…" He concedes, scoots from the door, hand on the wall so he can clumsily stand. In a particularly bad mood with temper flaring wildly, he hides within his office, where he throws an explosive fit, unable to keep his cool. For all he went through came a period of tense uncertainty, he is without control, in a vulnerable spot.

As his hand reaches toward the handle, the sinking dreadful sensation returns but Dmitri swallows his pride, dusts off the muddy grime from his wrinkled jacket, and wipes the tears with his fist. What worsened it was seeing his friend, battered up, arm in a sling, and looked plainly put darn awful. It was his fault after all, he allowed two prisoners, escapees amongst much more to do that to his right hand and to his men. Hot faced humiliation racks his mind in its entirety, riddled with guilt he could have done more. Furthermore, he hated himself as his eyes stung, his face flushed, and his body started to shake.

"Thank you" Grigori thanked him for whatever reason when the door opened and the man took his time to enter then closed it behind him. "Everything is going to be alright"

Stiff and awkward, his posture impeccably straighter than it ought to be, Dmitri looks away as he bites his tongue, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay to be upset, Dimi. To cry too" Slow to lock the door Grigori continued to cut past the unnecessary small talk. It did manage to both comfort and terrify Dimitri in a way he would usually shut himself away. "Feeling these emotions don't make you weak"

Grigori steps forward, cautiously, done out of respect, into his personal space, a very thick and large bubble. "I am not weak" He says in a low grumble. "Nor am I going to cry. I'm an adult man"

"Never said you were weak. I'm saying that you shouldn't be afraid to feel things. Even the bad emotions"

"Y-You. You don't know what I feel. You don't get to tell me how to feel either" Dmitri albeit weakly orders, he isn't going to allow anyone to dictate him. "I won't stand by and let them get away with this"

"We know you won't" Calmly reassuringly like always when they're alone, Grigori takes the initiative to have Dmitri sit down in his seat to relax. A hand lays on his tense shoulder as the man continues, "You're an incredibly stubborn man"

At the comment lightly poked at his expense Dmitri rolled his eyes with a huff where his old friend just smirks in return.

"I know you very well. We've been friends for a long time since childhood. I've helped you through thick and thin and you did the same for me" Grigori pats his shoulder a few times until pulling away. A mild twinge of sadness, perhaps washes over Dmitri though he can't detect the causes behind it.

"I suppose. Between the two of us. Someone has to be found responsible" Dmitri shrugs then adds, "That is why we need to make a pla-"

"Uh huh. Before we make any rash decisions there's something important to be discussed here"

"Then this? Recapturing them is our main priority"

"It is. You're right. Though that's for a later on discussion" Grigori reassures, matter of fact, with the knowledge that when Dmitri gets his attention on a project it's hard to get him off it so he is quicker to divert Dmitri to the major topic, "It's about you"

"What about me?"

"One of the guards. They told me you weren't yourself. You were staring blankly at nothing, unmoving. It scared them"

Dmitri wanted to melt into the seat at the idea someone else outside this office saw him in a disrepaired state.

"They asked if you were alright. You didn't respond so they presumed otherwise, trying to shake you alert and you do acknowledge how you reacted in turn, yes?" In reluctance Dmitri nods, "Good. Because you began to cry. Why I said it isn't good to bottle this up"

"I… Uh, I got something in my eye. That's why. I said I was fine"

"Don't pull the wool over my eyes. We had this talk a second ago" Grigori sternly states. Arms crossed over his chest, cold gray eyes bore down at the warden. Only Dmitri keeps quiet, grips at the chair's armrests. "You can be open with me. Don't hide behind the thin veils that you can't feel these things. Cry if you must. Let it out"

It was like a cue for the dam to break, tears unwillingly staining his cheeks, he attempted to dry them. "I can't be a failure… I won't let it happen" He angrily shakes the arms, almost to the point could rip them off. "I will get them and show them what I can do to criminals who dares to defy me"

"You're not. We will get over this. A simple yet fixable hiccup in the system" Thankfully, he's helped by Grigori to settle the frenzied panic. "You're not alone. I'm here for you"

He hoped that was true. Failure wasn't an option in his opinion. The glee he would feel after so long without nearly takes him. Once he gets the two escapees who tarnished his pristine reputation in his grip again, he'll be happy. "Thank you…" Dmitri gritted out, a crooked smile forcibly stretching his worn face.

Happiness may be a stretch.

#Request Fic #Long Fic #Ask Away #Dmitri Johannes Petrov #Dmitri Petrov #Grigori Olyat #Henry Stickmin Collection #The Henry Stickmin Collection #Angst #Hurt/Comfort #Thsc Fic #Thsc Au #Thsc Dmitri #Thsc Grigori

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umbralsound-xiv · 3 days

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Prompt #22 - Useful (Extra Credit)

Character: Q'kura Age: 16 Location: La Noscea, 1570, Sixth Astral Era Warnings: None

"Dad, if you'd just listen!" The argument had gone on long enough that Q'kura's pleas had fallen on deaf ears; he'd battled his corner until he was red in the face, and then some. "Just a few people -- The things we could learn! They could help everyone!"

"Q'kura!" The older man snapped, now having turned away in him in the the tent, barking over his shoulder. "We're not wasting time and effort exploring some dusty old ruin! Don't you think our people have more important things to do? We have food to hunt, mouths to feed. Make yourself useful and help them!" He gestures sharply to a bow and a quiver of arrows tucked almost out of sight.

The very sight of it makes Q'kura bristle. He couldn't aim, and the draw of the bow made his arms ache. Each time he'd tried, he'd been the ridicule of his people, and he wouldn't stand for it further.

"You're not listening to me!" The words are half yelled back, teeth grit in annoyance. "I am trying to help! ---The Nymians, they knew all sorts of secrets! If we just---!"

"Enough!" The Nunh yelled back, clearly at the end of his tether. "I don't want to hear it anymore! It's bad enough you don't contribute, but to waste time and resources is another thing. If you won't help them, fine. But don't expect a share of the food when they return."

"--Dad! But i'm trying to---!"

"ENOUGH, Q'KURA!" He points with an angry jab, to leave from whence he came. "I don't want to hear another word!"

Q'kura's nose wrinkled, tears briefly lining the bottom of his gaze, before he swallowed his pride, headed for the exit.

It was useless. Always, to try and reason with them. He wanted to help; of course he did. But he wasn't strong, like the rest. Even should he have tried to help, tried to hunt, everything became a blur when he'd tried to focus through the trees to hit anything.

Defeated, he walks some short distance away, and when he's certain he's not being watched, pries a loose piece of bark from a hollow of a tree, exposing a cavity, and takes a book; His father had burned them, during one of his outbursts, and he'd thought to hide the rest.

At least, it would distract him from the hunger. Even with his poor vision, he'd managed to learn to read them, though it would be impossible when night eventually fell.

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite2024 #Muse: [Q'kura]#FFXIV #IC #Writing

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taeyamayang · 2 years

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previously on FMY / NAVIGATION

SMILE FOR SECRETS

the west wind current drove the waves into the shore in a sluggish way, slowly reaching forward and drawing back as if it was in a constant turmoil of whether to stay or not.

death has breathed whispers to the hollow trees, wrinkling its body and limbs, forefingers falling apart as the leaves turn bright. one only blossoms when at the brick of their death, falsely deceiving the living of their radiant tone. death is indeed an odd thing.

"why?" your voice, low and faltering, could easily be whiffed by the gushed of air; akin to the autumn leaves that lifelessly fall from the deciduous trees, yet your mouth is still warm as though you could still feel his lips pressing against yours.

"i'm sorry." is all he could say.

you silently wished he would say more.

---

it's the final day of the sports event in school and everyone is either fired up for the championships or looking forward to hangout with friends after school hours. as for you, you are neither. unfortunately, your team couldn't make it to championships. the last match your team will participate in this morning is nothing but mere formalityㅡa battle for fourth place, and you and your friends have not planned anything after school.

currently, you are gathering your team members for the said final match. the opponent, class 1-B obvioulsy have the upper hand. they are bigger and much stronger in physique and it seemed as if they could crush your team with a simple shove. nonetheless, that does not stop you from encouraging your members. it's the final blow, you told them to pour all their stress from school into this match and let the underdogs win.

your words seemed to work as some of your members instantly became determined to fight for the last time but the results are predetermined from the get-go.

class 1-B won.

if only your legs were as long as the final runner and captain of the other team you could have at least inched the gap but this and other if's and then's were obliterated when your members commended you from being a good captain (they probably thought you would be a mediocre leader since you have always been a reserved wallflower) and as soon as they left, you find yourself lying on the grass as you catch your breath. your lids flutter close as you wait for the adrenaline to wear off.

"great work, captain." a voice from above says making your lids fly open. right then you are met with a midnight blue mixed with pale gray orbs similar to that of a cloudy starless sky.

"Miya." you say, sitting up. you adjust your eyes to the blinding bright sun and just then, you see the man standing next to him.

you are unfamiliar with him, you definitely have not seen him beforeㅡnot that you know everyone in school. his parted bangs and sharp eyes become the focal point almost scouring the smug and boredom off his face. atches your eyes.

you bring your attention back to the other, you speak. "we lost, by the way."

"i know, we watched the game." Osamu replies nonchalantly making you cringe in embarrassment.

"ugh, i feel like you're mocking me." you grunt and crinkle your nose at him. on the other hand, the latter smiles. you stand upright to dust off stray blades of grass on your clothes.

"no, take it as a compliment. you have the heart, determination, and energy of a main character in a sports tv series except... you couldn't win."

"that is more of an insult than a compliment." you whisper to yourself but osamu was quick to catch on your words, making him chuckle outloud. he's doing this on purpose. what a fucking tease. when he's done enjoying the reaction he's getting from you he points at the person next to him.

"anyway, suna rin meet (y/n), (y/n) this is suna rin." osamu gestures back and forth from you and to the man with a piercing gaze.

"-taro. suna rintaro. introduce me properly, man." suna, the one with parted bangs and sharp eyes, speaks for the first time.

"force of habit, my bad." osamu sheepishly scratches the back of his neck in apology before turning to look at you. "we're going. see you in the next meeting."

"wait, do you have a match today?" your eyes dart to the duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

"yep." he nods.

"what time?"

"one thirty, why?"

"which sports?" you disregard his question and his mouth breaks into a smirk.

"i'm not telling."

"why not?" you challenge him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"it's a secret." he utters in a teasing tone before turning his back on you. "see you around." he waves without looking.

the two leaves you hanging. you have no idea why he's being mysterious all of a sudden and not to mention, he was purposely teasing you. the last time you met him he was crumbling in shyness, cheeks almost tinted in pink as he stands in a corner with you. it's as if you've seen a different side of him.

"'Miya'." suna copies your tone as an awful smile imprints on his face. "it feels good to know that not everyone in school knows you."

osamu responses without batting an eye at him. "let's keep things this way."

---

it's now lunchtime and you are restless. you have nothing to do but wait for the games to end and attend the awarding ceremony. you are eating with some of the students whom you've spoken a few words with before in class. one of which is masayoshi, a boy who eventually became part of your group of friends in class. he's fine, a bit timid, and quite short-tempered but he's easy going and patient when it comes to you. you consider him as one of your friends. but your friendship with him could deepen if you were to open up your inner thuoghts with him but doing so isn't an easy task. in short, masayoshi is someone you feel comfortable with having around but a huge part of you knows that he doesn't know you well yet.

as you were about to take a spoonful of rice and meat into your mouth, you catch a figure passing by far behind masayoshi. the figure slings the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder as he listen to his company talking. he sports a basketball jersey similar to the boy with him. when he whips his head to your way as he laughs, you finally see his face. a sly smile breaks on your lips.

so, he plays basketball, huh?

masayoshi's eyes go wide when he sees you tucking your utensils back into its pouch and locking your bento box.

"woah, you're done?" he asks the obvious. as a slow eater, you always finish last but seeing your hurried demeanor makes him shoves the remaining food into his mouth.

"are you free at one thirty?" you ask and he nods, cheeks puffy from the food.

"let's watch a game!"

"can i come?" a girl from your class, let's just call her a friend (since she's everyone's friend and gets offended when you don't refer to her as your friend), raises her hand.

"sure." you grin at her and the three of you head to the gym.

you sit with masayoshi and your friend at the middle bleachers of the covered court. the game has not started yet when you arrived but the players were already warming up by the time the three of you settled in your seats.

"2-D versus 2-A." your friend reads the score board when one of the facilitators labeled the opposing teams. "let's cheer for 2-A since we're sort of like siblings, our senpais!"

you could have agreed easily but seeing miya osamu represent their class, 2-D, makes you want to keep an eye on him. the boy surely has a vexatious side and you're not the type to back down in a petty bickering, especially when he mocked you hours ago.

but seeing how he handles the ball, your plan might not go as you wished. who would have though that a shy boy like him is good at sports? he's athletic like his body is used to the trenuous hours of practice and you didn't expect that from him (although he has fit stature, still some boys in your class are built just fine even when all they do is lie on bed and do nothing). he's a team player and from the way he handles the game, he surely knows what he's doing.

he scored a generous amount of points for their team which made him an instant celebrity. the girls from the other side of the bench scream when the timer goes off, the same pack of audiences whose eyes followed him like a cat targeting a chase wand. you can't blame them though, his gameplay is impressive. in the end, 2-D wins and you're torn between congratulating him or not.

"geez, samu still got his game." your friend utters, shaking her head as you follow her eyes leading to miya osamu downing water down his throat.

"samu?" you ask but your voice are barely recognizable. right then, your eyes lock with him and he almost spits the water from his mouth when he sees you sitting by the bleachers.

"(y/n), do you know him?" masayoshi speaks for the first time since the game started. you were not able to respond to him as osamu himself approaches you, answering masayoshi's question.

"what are you doing here?!" osamu whisper-shouts, glancing through his shoulders anxiously.

"my, my, i came here to tease you and have my revenge but-" you wave your hand in the air as a sigh drags from your lips. "i'm a bad liar. you were good. congrats."

"(y/n)." suna rintaro follows behind osamu. afterwards, he greets you.

"suna rintaro." you courteously nod in greeting.

"suna rin's fine." he says casually making you squint your eyes at him.

this guy. hot and cold. unpredictable.

osamu coughs then turns to look at suna. "attend to your fans, suna rin." osamu nudges him using his elbows but suna's brows press together as he peers at his friend with a bewildered face.

"ha?!" his jaw hangs, shooting him a glare that says 'what the fuck are you talking about?'

osamu points at the crowd at the other side of the bleachers using a quick shift in his eyes. it's the same crowd from last time. even if the game has ended, they stayed behind whispering and gushing about the two players in front of you. some of them would look and stare at you in a rather intimidating way, cocking their brows up when they see you looking. what's their deal, anyway?

at the same time suna understands what osamu meant, you take this as a cue to leave. the dead air between you and him is starting to feel a bit weird and on top of that are a few girls looking at you from across the court with eyes that could slice you in half.

"good game, i'm impressed. bye-bye." you stand from the bleachers and exit without sparing him a second to say goodbye.

suna and osamu exchanged a few words which made the former grow worried. suna si right, it is inevitable but not far from impossible to happen. with that, osamu watches you leave the gym.

---

the next time you see osamu is at the theater meeting. you came before him so you were left alone at the farthest corner away from everyone, as per usual. seeing the casts and crews interact makes you drain of social energy so you would rather save your battery for practice.

"you're early." osamu says and sits next to you.

"i know. i should have dropped by the cafeteria to get snacks." even if you have only met him four times: first theater meeting, at your game, his game, and this included, conversations with him feels natural like you've known him for a longer time. osamu unzips the pocket of his school bag and pulls out an onigiri which makes your mouth water at its plain sight.

"salmon onigiri." he cooly places it on your lap. you dramatically take the food using both of your hands (a sign of high respect) and you swear, you saw sparks twinkling around him. indeed, food makes relationships grow fonder.

"thank you, senpai." you tease him with the sudden use of honorifics.

"don't call me senpai." the creases around his eyes deepens.

"okay..." you pause. "...senpai."

"you-!" osamu's outburst lets out a loud guffaw from you. not long, osamu joins you. the world seemed to vanish around you when you're with him.

it's so easy, easy to be with him.

osamu watches you munch on the food with delight, not caring about your appearance as you enjoy the food he gave. he has met a dozen of poeple your age but has never seen anyone as carefree and different as you are. without knowing, he finds himself lost in you.

---

days and weeks had past since the first meeting of the theater group. sticking next to osamu has become a habit. you are both in each other's orbit that when either of you gets called for an acting scene, it feels almost empty to sit alone.

but as you both grow fond of each other, others have seemed to taken notice of your bond with him. most of the casts that regularly approaches you, actually him, are from his batch, your seniors. he would exchange words with them but the conversations never lead to anything deep as osamu rarely shares anything about him or how his day went; contrary to when he's with you. with you he's an open book, not that he's easy to read but beacuse he's willing to let you know a part of him.

additionally, osamu has sort of become your ryuukei repellant. ever since you hang out with him during practices, ryuukei has never attempted to cling onto you. although you would often catch a glimpse of him watching your from afar.

"just got home. i have homework, sucks." you type in your reply as soon as you reach home.

your chats with him developed from updating each other of practices to casually chatting. you honestly don't know how it started, the same thing wiht other things such as sitting nwith him during practices, looking out for each other during scenes, and eating together during breaks. but one thing is for sure, whatever you have right now makes you happy.

"what subject?" he replies within seconds. you change into home clothes before sitting on the bed.

"physics. i like science but this one," you look for an emoji to fit your mood before hitting send.

seconds turn into minutes and you find yourself waiting for the elipses next to his profile picture to pop out a text. he must be busy, you thought. after what seems like ages, you pick up an academic book on next to your bed, so you could be productive, but suddenly your phone dings, distracting you once again from doing your homework.

a message.

the last time you were this quick to grab your phone was when your favorite artist dropped a single.

"my hands are full." you read the message from him. you were right. he's busy.

another message pops in.

"do you mind if we call?" your mind pauses, heartbeat dropping at his simple request. your fingers have gained its own consciousness as you typed in "not at all." before your mind could process what you are doing.

osamu replies, "great. let me get my earphones."

you did the same, fishing for you earphones before plugging it in. within seconds you see an incoming call from him. you are nervous but your excitement dominates your wracked nerves. you take a deep breath and clear your throat before hitting the answer button.

"hey." he says, voice hoarse and thick. so this is what his voice sounds like in a call. clatters of falling objects reverbrates from the other line, followed by a mumbled curse.

"what are you up to?" you place your phone on the bed as you open the unattended book before you pretending to finally have taken interest in your homework.

"i'm looking for something. i need it for my project." rustling papers and books being placed on top of each other are heard. osamu speaks in a sheepish tone, "one sec." before shouting at someone in their house.

"tsum! it's not here!" a hint of annoyance coats his voice.

"ya dumbass! open yer eyes!" the person from whom you assume is 'tsum' replies in a thick accent. evidently, he is as equally as annoyed as osamu. a series of heavy footsteps thuds against the floor.

"but it's not here!" osamu protested. then, silence falls.

"who are you talking to." the kansai dialect dies down as tsum questions in a calm manner. "is that suna rin?" quick footsteps get louder as tsum closes the distance between him, osamu, and the phone placed on the ground.

"oi! practice blocks with me tomorrow after class!" your ear rings at the sudden pain of tsum's voice breaking loudly through the microphone.

"it's not suna rin." the light 'ow' of the other lets you know that osamu must have pushed him away.

"then, who is it?"

"none of your business."

a light thud from the line connecting the call resounds. the quality of the sound from the other line changed as if the microphone had increased in its size making two distinct voices clearer to hear.

"yer an asshole! give me back my earphones!" osamu's in rage, boiling in anger. you have never heard of him speak in this tone before. nonetheless, it's interesting for you to eavesdrop in the argument happening on the other line.

"whoever you are speak!" tsum speaks directly speaks to you leaving you staring at the screen of your phone.

"yer disturbing me!" osamu fights back and you feel the sudden urge to back your friend up. taking the built in microphone to your mouth, you speak with ease. a calm breeze admist a storm.

"what possible gains would you have if you hear my voice?"

"oh." you can imagine the intruder pondering to himself. "such sweet voice, that's new. what's your name?"

"leave!" osamu's voice gets further away, then a loud smashing of a door bangs. labored breathing accompanied by footsteps are the only thing you can hear after. shortly, osamu speaks.

"i'm sorry, that was brother." his voice calmer than before.

"quite a relationship, huh?" you joke, laughing at their typical sibling dynamics

"you can tell." osamu joins you in laughter.

"what were you looking for?" changing the subject may help him from recovering from the height of his emotions.

"a blank CD. my brother misplaced it."

"do you need it for tomorrow?" your eyes dart to the shelves next to your cabinet. the bottom shelf is tucked with books, old albums, and empty CDs. for some reasons, you keep spares since your parents used to hate USB devices because of it's 'complexities'.

"not really, i just want to start this project. it's due next week."

"i have a spare. i can bring it tomorrow if you want." you twist the cord of your earphones around your finger as you intenly listen to his voice.

"really?! that would be great! but we don't have practice tomorrow."

"then come pick it up in my class before the first period starts. i'm in class A."

and then there was a pause, like he's hesitating on your idea.

"i, uh," he stammers.

"what is it?" the cord looses around your finger.

"i can't visit a lowerclass' room. i'm, uh, shy. yeah, i'm a shy person." there we go again with his unbelievable "i'm shy" excuse. the more you get closer to him, the harder it is for you to believe his claim.

"that's bullshit, miya." you spit through the phone.

"no, no, no, i swear i can't-" you cut him off mid-sentence.

"i'll bring it to your room." you decide, hearing a dramatic gasp from him.

"you'll do that for me?!" if you were told that he was seething in rage minutes ago, you wouldn't believe it. his mood drastically changes and it's obvious enough on his upbeat tone.

"yeah, whatever." you playfully roll your eyes though he can't see you.

"i'll come to school early tomorrow! i'll wait for you!"

"you better be."

it was a simple favor to him but you can feel the bubbling excitement inside you. you have never seen osamu outside of practices (except during sports event) and the idea of seeing him with his classmates, your seniors, itches your curiosity as to who he is as a student and a fellow classmate. does his classmates know him well?

---

the following day finally has arrived and you're headed to school early in the morning. usually, you would rather arrive in school just before the bell rings. it's pointless to come to class early and do nothing when you can use that time for sleep. hitting the snooze button is better than socializing with people who you'll spend the rest of the year with.

masayoshi is surprised to see you arrive a split minute before him. you greet him with a "goodmorning" and he immediately says it back.

"why are you so early today?" he walks up next to your desk.

"someone asked for a favor." you stick your hand inside your bag to fish for the CD sealed in a plastic case. when you find it, your heart throbs quickly and your mouth runs dry. it's just meet up with a friend but something inside you makes you feel anxious. when you look up to meet eyes with your friend, you ask. "do you wanna tag along?"

masayoshi smiles, his face brighter than the morning sun. "sure! where?"

"class 2-D." you say simply.

"what?! why?! the seniors?!" have you ever mentioned that masayoshi is a nervous wreck? no? well, this is who he is when faced by minor inconvenience. he's pretty reactive to most things but right now you internally agree with him.

"it's a friend so it's no big deal, really. we'll drop this off then go." your words of assurance were meant for him but it feels as though you said it for yourself.

a lower batch student visiting a senior is bit of a show. you don't know what exactly makes it odd, but to many people it's enough to start a gossip. well, only if you're known in your batch or in school but if you are someone as nameless and insiginificant as you are, you won't probably make noise. besides, osamu miya seemed to be the quiet type in class.

"if you don't want to come with me then it's fine, yoshi." you walk pass yoshi, not wanting to put a burden on his shoulders by accompanying you but he tails you behind shortly. you told him to go back to the room if he's uncomfortable but he insisted the he wants to come. in the end, you let him.

upong arriving at room 2-D, you pop your head inside and scan the room for an obnoxious grey-headed but to your dismay he's nowhere to be found. hence, you are left to ask the girl sitting nearest to the doorway.

you hate doing this.

you absolutely despise the idea of asking someone you do not know and bothering them of their own business. you hate it so much that when it comes to calling for a teacher in the faculty room, you would rather be the one to knock on the door and let your friend stick their head inside and do the talking. but since mr. i'll-wait-for-you is not waiting for you here, you are left to ask a fellow student.

"hi, do you know where miya is?" the girl with headphones stuck to her ears swiftly lifts her head up. her eyes widen at the sight of you by the doorway.

"oh, uhm," she twists and turns her body around to look for the person you just mentioned. as she does so, you notice a few stares from the seniors in the room.

"who's she looking for?" the girl from one of the circles, glance at you.

"i heard she said 'miya'." the other replies. you don't know if they're doing it on purpose but their whispers are definitely louder than it should be.

"miya?! seriously?!" one girl in their group chuckles condescendingly. "gosh, he quickly changes everytime." before you could feel bad for turning up here, the girl by the doorway speaks.

"sorry, i don't think he's here." her voice is sweet akin to her large soft eyes. for a moment, you were glad you asked her.

"do you know where he went?" you ask with a small smile. just when she was about to utter a reply, a booming voice from the hallway calls out your name.

"(y/n)!" he runs towards you like a kid excited to see their favorite toy after a long day.

"you said you'll wait here." you frown in return.

"i did! but someone called for me in the hallway so i had to attend to them. i didn't know that the time i was out is the exact time you'll be here." as osamu explains, you catch a sight of the group of girls from ealier and others more giving you unwanted stares through his shoulders. it could be just your imagination or the tendency of your mind to overthink things but with the way they're giving you looks, you can't help but feel as if you've stepped on a line you were'nt supposed to.

when you shifyt your eyes to meet with his, you see him looking at a point behind you. you follow where his eyes lead. it lands on your company.

agh, how can you forget about introducing masayoshi? how disrespectful!

"miya, this is tanaka masayoshi and yoshi this is miya osamu. you guys have met before, during the sports event. i was with yoshi and another friend when we wathed your game, miya." when you were done speaking, both of them exchanged nods without uttering a single word. men are weird, you thought.

you turn and mouth "five minutes, sorry!" to masayoshi and he gives you an approved smile. but five minutes easily turn into fifteen and eventually the only thing capable of separating you from osamu is the bell, a signal for the first class to begin. you had so much to talk about with osamu despite being on the phone with him after class everyday.

when you went back to the room with masayoshi, your producer friend immediately approaches you.

"where'd you guys go?" she assk, worried that you might have skipped school today and you don't miss classes unless you're sick.

"you wouldn't believe it." masayoshi drags his feet as he says in a deflated tone. you feel bad for him for tagging along but at the same time he kept insisting on coming with you.

"there she is!" a pompous voice echoes in the room. like a magnet, all eyes turn to him. "my frirdn over here is asking about the happening in the theater group. how's it going for you, (y/n)?"

he's up to no good. he's always is.

"or rather," he lets out a short airy laugh which in turn unsettles you. he turns to face you, crossing one leg over the other as he rests his arm over the backrest of his seat. a smirk grows on his face. "how's it going with osamu?"

just when you thought he's done stirring unwanted drama, he speaks in a cunning and petty way and loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"dating?"

tags: @imsoluvly

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq osamu #hq fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq romance #hq fluff #hq angst #hq x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya angst #osamu fanfiction #osamu fluff #osamu imagine #hq x y/n #pea.writes

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nt3000s · 2 years

Text

not to just run out here and be angry at 2 in the morning but i am so utterly sick of people that absolutely refuse to even attempt to draw a character with wrinkles or something else unflattering that isnt some flavor of triangle nose or some other shit when your body ages that people refuse to draw like its so disheartening it hurts my feelings like i know its hard i used to have a weird time making these things look good in my artstyle but you still have to atleast try because atleast if you try it seems like you cared to do it justice compared to just completely ignoring these traits that were given to a design on purpose. If a character is fat you have to draw them fat if a character is old you have to draw them old if a character has a weird face you have to draw them weird and its going to reach a point where you can not use the i'm a bad artist excuse anymore because you never even tried to improve

#sorry i hate scrolled through an account thats drawing older men like young pretty boys. sorry.#some disco elysium fans in th world. some star trek fans in the world.#its disheartening to me because its 1 part people refusing to grow as artists in skill #but its also just like oh so you thought they were ugly before... and youre making them prettier... idk that hurts me fuck you man #it huerts my feelings. im going to stop looking at these poeple now #talking

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oliverojostristes · 2 years

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Nightmare || Don't Look Oneshot

So, I write this some time ago and I wasn't planning to make a translation, but these days I haven't been able to draw nor write and I thought of translating this to practice English and also doing something, so here it is(? I'm sorry if I have any grammatical mistakes... Or if something feels out of character lol

Oliver was not surprised when he opened his eyes and everything around him crouched in the shadows, almost as if someone had placed a dark cloth over the whole world.

He blinked a couple of times before closing his eyes completely, slowly inhaling and exhaling as quietly as possible, as he didn't wanted his strange natural alarm to disturb the others as well. He sat down carefully, blinking to get used to the dark environment as best he could. One of his hands snaked under the pillow until he managed to hit the small electronic rectangle that was his phone. He wrapped his fingers around it before pulling it out, pressing one of the buttons on it's side with his thumb,activating the artificial light and lighting up his face with it.

4:06 AM

Again. He wasn't surprised.

Taking the air out of his lungs once more, he dropped backwards, landing on the soft pillow, as his thumb slid on the screen, repeating the pattern that had already stayed in his muscle memory.

Zachary's throat made a sound to his right and Chester moved to his left, Kade was still on the other side of the redheaded guy. There was no need to check to know that everyone were still asleep, he was the only one awake at the time, as usual.

He check notifications from his social media before opening the application he used to write, and a few seconds later he was already continuing the chapter he had left unfinished since the afternoon of the previous day.

Usually it would give him some time to write a good part of the story before getting sleepy again and he could rest a few more hours, but when he was beginning to get lost in the words he heard Zach complaining in his dreams once again.

The brunet turned around confused. Usually Zachary would become alert with the movement of his awakening at first, then remain in complete stillness and silence until 6 o'clock, when his natural clock would waking him up, and by that point Oliver would be asleep again.

Taking advantage of the dim light on the phone, he observed his partner's face, finding him frowning sharply.

It was not difficult to guess that he must have been having a bad night, probably a nightmare occurring on his mind. Oliver was not a stranger with bad dreams, quite the contrary, he used to suffer them much, more often than he would like, so by that point they were no longer something he cared about, but that only applied to him, Thinking her boyfriend was struggling with that made him upset. Unfortunately he couldn't physically fight with whatever that was happening in the mind of other, so he had to go with plan B.

After bloking his phone and re-hiding it under the pillow, he slowly curled up on the other's chest, crossing his arms over it before resting his chin in place.

—Zach— he whispered in a soft voice, waiting a few seconds before repeating the name a little louder.

He watched his nose wrinkle and his eyebrows gather.

As much as Oliver wanted to rush the process, he knew it would be harmful to start shaking his partner and calling him urgently, so he kept trying calmly. He raised his head high enough to gently blow into the other's face, causing the bangs to flit and the muscles to contract again.

One of his hands approached and with the index finger he pointed the bow of his nose, barely touching the tip with the skin.

Stretching his neck, he left a silent kiss in the mouth of the other.

—Zach— he repeated once more without parting, smiling at the nice feeling to speak without breaking lip contact.

And as if that had been the key, he watch with pleasure how the heterochromatic eyes finally came out of their hiding place under the eyelids.

Oliver backed away just a few inches, letting his partner to analyze him at his own pace.

—Little moth— Zach gasp when his eyes managed to focus the figure in front of him. He took air, clearly relieved to have managed to get out of his mind. His hand ran over his face, pulling out any trace of the bad dream that might remain in his gesture.

—A nightmare? — Oliver spoke softly. They both knew it wasn't a question, rather a statement.

—A nightmare— he nodded in a tired voice, keeping his tone low. The other two were still sleeping and they wanted it to stay that way.

—You were stirring too much— answered the question in his eyes.

—I'm sorry— he apologized, managing to smile at the other, passing his hands on the sides of his face, watching him lie on his chest again—. Did I wake you up, polillita?

—You know I always wake up at dawn— he shook his head the best he could considering the other's huge hands were still holding him fondly.

He nodded, aware of that.

And for some reason, in less than a second, his gaze broke down, blurring to get lost in a non-existent world.

—It was very bad nightmare— guessed Oliver, playing with the collar of the other's shirt— Wanna talk about that?

Zachary clenched his lips, placing one of his hands on the crown of his partner before beginning to caress the messy fibers of dark hair between his fingers, careful to untangle it without hurting him. He stayed like that for a while, debating how much he wanted to talk about it.

Oliver didn't press on it, he closed his eyes and I patiently wait for Zach to bring his thoughts together.

Outside the window, the wind was squealing against the trees, a distant owl singing, and the leaves rustling. There was no sign of civilization, and surely it was due to the hour, since even those who got up early were still enjoyed their last hours of sleep. They were lucky, but Oliver was actually enjoying spending the night under his boyfriend's soft touch.

—I dreamt about you— Zach whispered shortly afterwards, in an almost gloomy tone. His gaze was still lost, perhaps gathering the little pieces of nightmare that were still fresh in his mind—. All of you.

—Us?— Oliver asked, turning to the other two. Their lungs inflated and deflated calmly, still cuddling in Morpheus' pleasant arms. The taller nodded before shaking his head slightly and dragging his eyes to the window, even though the curtain was cast and it was impossible to truly see what was outside.

—I think it's the first time I didn't like seeing you in my dreams— he smiled without looking happy at all— Remember how I met Chester?

—Yes. You went to the cafe where he work— Oliver narattes, drawing with his middle finger invisible figures on Zach's chest, he just wanted to feel him—. You talk with him for days until the day you dared to ask for his number. Such a cute story.

—It wasn't like that in my dream. I harassed him for weeks, until one day he stayed working until very late, and I... — his words stopped, squinting while swallowing, then release air as he continued—. I hit him in the head and locked him in the bunker. It felt... It felt very real. He was scared and I was just happy to have him there. With me.

Oliver didn't say anything, he knew the story wasn't over yet.

—I did the same with you, and with Kade. I hurt you and then I kept you locked up, scared, covered your eyes and tied you up so you couldn't leave— His voice shook a little, but he didn't stop, instead he continue, speaking a little more heated at each moment—. You were terrified of me and I could only feel ecstatic to have my little insect collection in the palm of my hand...

He let out a growl, stopping the caresses that he had been provided to the the younger one just to covered his face with both hands, hiding his expression.

—I know it was just a nightmare, but it felt so incredibly real... Your fear and my... My happiness, it's like it's still under my skin.

It wasn't the worst nightmare Oliver had ever heard, and yet he saw the way Zach's hands were shaking, the way his breath was stuck in his throat. He could feel the despair of his partnet on his own heart.

—It was just a stupid dream— he tried to comfort him, hugging his chest tightly— It was just a dream, Zach.

—That's not the problem— Zachary growled, and Oliver almost back away, but a part of him knew he'd regret it if he did, so he cuddle a little more instead.

—So what is it?— he asked carefully, letting the other know that he was listening, that he really cared.

—That I liked it— the words intended to sound heavy and grave, but Oliver couldn't do anything but sigh.

—Well, dah. Of course you liked it— now he did really back away, just enough to put his hands on the sides of the other to be able to have stability while climbing completely to the older's body, sitting on his stomach carefully. He looked at Zach with a smile as he took advantage of the new position to hold Zach's hands and, with a soft gesture, encourage him to separate them from his face.

That get his attention, and at the end he let his boyfriend's little hands guide his own to the sides as he watched with curiosity. The faint moonlight contoured the body over his in an almost mesmerizing way, and that gleam in his eyes... it was difficult to say if it was also the fault of the moon or if the playfulness in his eyes had a light of its own.

—Zach, I'm sorry to be the one to say it, but you've always been a little... well, very overprotective. That your biggest dream is to keep us locked up so we can get away from any danger in the world, sounds very you.

He didn't knew what to say. Now that the brunet put it that way, he could accept that he was telling the truth, his greatest desire since he had known them was to keep them safe, to have them with him so that they would never feel alone, not them, and not himself.

—I mean, you invited us all to live with you as soon as you had the chance— the onther continued, releasing the older's hands only to put his on his shoulders, slowly dragging them to his chest, admiring him as if he was the be most valuable thing in the world.

Zachary almost wanted to blush, but he was a little more attentive to the words that slipped from the contrary lips—. You didn't spend even a month talking to us when you were already offering us a home. You did it with Chester, you did it with me, and finally you bdid it with Kade. The only requirement was that we liked you and that we were fine with your little... harem. Just that and for you we were already someone worth having in your life.

—But...

—We can all be selfish, Zach— Oliver interrupted, returning to look him in the eye, his gaze was sharp and his mouth curved into a malicious smile—. If you ask me, I too would have enjoyed a dream where I lock you up in a bunker to make sure you're mine and only mine. Maybe share with Ches and Kade, but that's it.

It was hard to know if it was either a joke or he was serious, yet Zachary couldn't help but laugh. It was a light, almost silent laugh, but it was genuine and exactly what he needed, he almost feel that he had actually been exaggerating feeling so overwhelmed by the dream.

—You are so sexy when you laugh— Oliver whispered as he backed up to sit in Zach's pelvis so he could bow and rest his head on the other's chest once more.

Zachary ran one of his hands down his back, under the shirt, feeling how it was enough to squeeze a little bit to feel the bones under the soft skin.

They both sighed in unison, feeling the calm of the night regain it's place in the house. Kade growled a little and the sheets were heard stirring under his weight. He must have hit Chester because now it was his turn to whine and turn around, looking right at them if it wasn't for his eyes keeping closed. It was a fortunate that despite having light sleep there was a time at night where he could not be bothered even with the evening talk.

—Anyway— Oliver purr suddenly— if you are really bothered by that nightmare, you can always start taking therapy. I know that you grew up in a time when that was reserved for the crazy peolpe— he joked to bother him in a playful way—, but it really isn't, in any case you can try it and see how you feel.

—Maybe I will— he whispered looking at the sleeping face of his bumblebee, changing the frightened version of his dream for the calm one—. I'll think about it.

—I feel like me estás dando el avión— he smiled with a frown, standing up so he could look at his face.

—Of course not, polillita— he reassured him by turning his gaze back, passing his free hand to his cheek so he could caress it with affection—. I'm really going to consider it. There are many things I want to fix in my life. For you.

—And for you too— he spit rubbing against his palm— It's important that you also do it for you.

— And for me— he accepted in the end.

The youngest seemed satisfied and went back to lie down, not before leaving a quick kiss on the lips of his boyfriend, wishing him a good night. He decided that he would spend the rest of the night above the other, and Zachary did not complain, the weight was not too much and he even felt comfortable, so, not so long, they both fell asleep.

#dontlookvn #oneshot

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dazzlerazz · 2 years

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12 and 13 for the artists asks?

AYYYY IT'S THE ONYX!

12. Which OC do you love to draw the most? (And why?)

It tends to fluctuate depending on what oc I'm working on. I have over 200 from the years (I've counted), and I've drawn all of them at least once, some more than others. For example, right now, I'm drawing my oc Oliver a few different times to get the feel of them before I start writing stuff. For the oc I've drawn most of all in my life, I'd have to say it's an oc I made in late 2017/early 2018, one of the first I didn't discard after a few months. Their name is Jordan, and they're pretty much The Blorboc when it comes to what I've created, the one that started it all. They have about 5 AUs outside of their original universe all with different spellings or nicknames (Jorden, Jordyn, Jay-Jay, etc) and I doodle them every so often when I'm struggling with art block. Maybe I'll draw them later and post it!

13. What do you wish you could add in your art but can’t because you either forget to or you developed the habit of drawing this way too hard that you just can’t add this detail in?

I've been trying to undo this a lot recently, but I want to give characters dimples, maybe show the gums when they smile, give them bigger noses, face blemishes, scars that aren't considered cool or sexy. I did this recently with an oc of mine, where I drew her with some of these features to the best of my ability I don't have the privilege of drawing digitally all that often, because I have a track pad rather than a drawing tablet with a screen, which makes it really hard, so with pencils this really isn't noticeable because then the spot gets all clogged and crowded and then it ends up sucking. Traditional art has hindered me, so when I get my hands on a good art tablet, I'm going to draw more characters with bigger noses, with dimples, with pimples, with exposed gums, with bad teeth, with wrinkles, with so much more variety than the typical Anime Person. I have a lot of art books that focus on anime characters, tropes, and poses, and genuinely all of the example characters are smooth faced teenagers or young adults that you'd pay a dime a dozen for. It's tiring, and I've fallen into that rut, but I refuse to stay in it

#askbox #onyxbox #art stuff #ask game #razz oc stuff

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chronic85doodler · 2 years

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Drawing screenshots to get better at drawing Bruno, and he is literally the most chameleon-like expressive character. He goes from goob, to handsome so fluidly.

I am so bad at a consistent art style and this mofo makes it impossible.

I'm getting to the point I think I need to draw his skull to understand what the hell is jaw is doing. It's a long jaw that is for sure.

Little notes to remind myself as I study.

- use the eye mask technique for his eyes,

- nose is priority and anchor

-eyes are higher and closer together then you expect. Made even closer by a small nose bridge to phalange ratio.

-in profile. his eyes aren't especially obscured by his nose due to a dip in the nose bridge in profile.

- depending on how relaxed his face is, his wrinkles can be pretty subtle, but pretty consistently you can see the expression wrinkles that start at his nose, down to his chin.

- eyes are pretty round, but lots of skin around eyes changes their shape. This shows his age the most, you lose elasticity as you age so his skin moves around the face in extreme expressions which is all the time for him

- long face, with widest at high cheekbones. Small forehead and chin

Please tag me if you recognize your screenshots, and want credit.

#encanto #bruno madrigal #encanto bruno

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rozhliena · 2 years

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mc x thirteen

we need to interact with thirteen more, mainly talking, you know how sometimes you have to be annoying to get someone to say more than 15 words at a time to you. it's like that

You have no good reason to get buddy-buddy with a reaper.

"Hey." You don't know what's driving you to this, what's urging you to sit next to her. A good number of these demons would kill to get within ten feet of you, and yet you want to sit next to Ms. Grim Reaper. It's probably that main character complex getting to you at last, that underlying assumption that the world revolves around you, that everyone exists in relation to you, that you're the favorite of whoever's calling the shots up there—or maybe it's nothing so dramatic, but the bottom line is this: you have no good reason to get buddy-buddy with a reaper. Unless there are lifespan benefits for it...? But you doubt that.

Thirteen's head, which had been bowed low near the table as she squinted to work on her convoluted trap diagrams, pops up with a start. For a moment her expression is surprised, but it quickly makes its way into mild annoyance.

"Hey yourself," she says shortly. "What's up with you? Don't you have demons to snuggle up to?"

She doesn't pull any punches, this one. "Actually, I was thinking you looked kind of lonely. As the first student in the exchange program, I feel it ought to be my responsibility to help you acclimate to your new surroundings..." It kind of amazes you how good you've gotten at bullshitting. You could have put it on Diavolo, though, instead of attributing this frankly stupid idea to yourself. "...And they're all in some boring meeting. Student council and all."

She raises an eyebrow, but nods. "I see." The pause is long and awkward enough that no one would fault you if you gave up and walked back to the House of Lamentation right now—actually, that option would probably be encouraged. But you are nothing if not bullheaded and, quote, "too damn gutsy," so you stick around a little while longer. Thirteen seems to consider moving away from you, but shrugs and returns to her diagram, face so close to the parchment that it's like she's trying to absorb it through her eyeballs. On a closer look, her writing hand is smudged with ink, and she's got heavy pressure while drawing. Probably gets nasty cramps. "I'm busy, if you couldn't tell."

"What kind of trap is this?" you ask on impulse—can't help it, you're nosy.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Thirteen replies without missing a beat, so easily that it sends an involuntary chill down your spine. After a moment, she adds, "That's a joke, by the way."

It didn't sound like one, and she deals in death, but you don't say that. "Is it for Solomon?"

"Most of them are."

"Is this one?"

Thirteen sits up again, looking at you incredulously. "Is this part of your accli-whatever routine, too?"

You shrug, letting yourself smile. "Meet them where they're at, is my motto. Whether they like terrible cooking, gossip, or setting up traps—I'm there. It's part of the job description, you see."

"Mhm." Thirteen cocks her head, snake eyes narrowing. "You can just admit you're curious. It's not like I'll kill you for that." A strand of multicolored hair falls over her eyes, and you have the strangest urge to tuck it behind her ear. She blows it out of her face before you can do anything stupid like that. "It's bad for business, you know."

"Oh, is that how it works?" You pick at the buttons on your RAD school uniform, absently debating whether Thirteen would look good wearing it properly or if she would look like a clown in a court meeting. Probably the latter, through no fault of her appearance—she's cute, but the uniform isn't meant to display individuality. "So, human lives are like... wine."

She wrinkles her nose like you've just said something morally reprehensible, her painted mouth in a deep frown. "Something like that, I guess." Definitely unimpressed. You can feel the main character complex shrinking in real time.

You plow on anyway, "So am I more valuable the longer I live? Is that why you're after Solomon?"

"Wow, you really are a busybody," she says, but she pushes her diagram to the side as she shifts in her seat, leaning a bit closer to you so she doesn't have to crane her neck. The slight change in proximity brings warmth to your chest—damn this stuffy uniform. "Yeah, that's it. He's cheated death for so long, someone has to knock him down a peg. A soul like that—mm, it's ripe. You as an individual, on the other hand..." Thirteen's voice trails off, and she leans in close now, so close that you can smell her perfume, some scent that's almost too sweet, almost dizzying. "I don't know what to make of you."

You manage a laugh. The nearness makes it so you can see the specks of glitter in her lip gloss. "In a good way or a bad way?"

"Neither, yet."

"That's too bad."

Death's got beautiful eyes, but it's hard to win a staredown when those eyes are so intensely focused on you. But you don't draw back, because that would be like giving up, or losing, so you decide to look at her mouth until something comes of it. She wouldn't do anything because there's no reason to, and neither would you, but it's funny to think of the headlines—"Kiss of Death?! Exchange Students Cozy Up in the Cafeteria"—or whatever. It's probably ten seconds before Thirteen backs off, her usually-pale cheeks dusted with the lightest shade of pink imaginable.

"You've got that dopey look again," Thirteen says brusquely, burying her face in her diagram again, heavy hand smudging ink along the surface. Her ears are pinker than her face, the only visible sign of embarrassment.

"Sorry." You don't mean it at all. You prop your elbows up on the table, chin in your hand as you watch her work. Thirteen makes no move to shoo you away. Maybe there are a few good reasons to get tight with a reaper, after all.

#obey me #obey me x reader #thirteen x reader #thirteen x mc #obey me thirteen #obey me fic #i wish this were more romantic but alas and alack. i fear i do not grasp the dynamic yet #spiicings

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claaaaaare · 2 years

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It's hard to develop my own art style, but I think I've finally made some progress (EXCITING!!!).

I drew Pol first, with the least deftness and patience so his eyes, nose, and EVERYTHING is wierd. He looks like a bad guy right now. I'm truly feeling sorry for him, and I truly adore him lol. Next time I'll redraw him with all my love.

Kak, my favorite character in the entire JJBA universe, was the second. I've been drawing him all the time so I was kinda confident with this one, but it turned out that I messed up his hair... and his nose, and EVERYTHING. It's time to do some research on Kak's hair style.

Then Jot, my favorite Jojo. I definitely did much better this time! His neck looks unusual but it's not the point I was focusing on! And I really enjoyed drawing him without hat. He is like Johnathan somehow. Maybe I'll never put his hat back - just kidding.

Then Avdol, with the most details (love his earrings so much) and patience. His eyes are not sysmetical (none of them - and human - has a symetrical face anyways), but his nose is the best one I've ever drawn. Congradulations!

Last, Joseph, my second favorite Jojo, drawn with the shortest time. I tried to make him look more like Jot, but... Never mind, at least they have eyes of the same color. I didn't know how to draw beard and wrinkles, and I wasn't sure how he should be like without hat. Nonetheless I'm still proud of myself.

#jojos bizarre adventure #jjba fanart #jjba #jjba part 3 #jojo stardust crusaders #joseph joestar #muhammed avdol #jean pierre polnareff #jotaro cujoh #kakyoin noriaki

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katsukithme · 4 years

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First Aid

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.

Word count: about 1.9k :)

A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man

**Character is aged up to at least 20**

You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.

You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.

It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.

"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.

"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.

"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.

"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.

"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."

He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.

Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.

"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.

"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.

Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.

"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."

He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.

He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.

"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."

He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.

"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.

You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.

You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.

He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.

It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.

You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.

It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.

Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.

Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.

You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.

"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.

He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.

"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.

"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.

"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.

"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.

"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.

"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.

But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.

"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.

"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.

Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki bakugou #my hero academy #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #my hero academia #bakugou fanfiction #bakugo x reader

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