#IDK WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT OKAY

[lastoneout]

Saw a post talking about this and didn't want to derail it, but like, honestly, at this point, I'm becoming less and less tolerant of people acting like straight/cis passing privilege is a real, very serious thing that needs to be taken into consideration every time someone speaks on queer issues bcs I swear to god the only time I ever see it actually brought up is when someone is trying to deny someone else a seat at the table. Like first it was used against bi+ people to explain why we're not queer unless we're in a same gender relationship, and then it was used to shit all over ace and aro people for not being "visibly queer", then they turned on nonbinary people who "look cis", and now I see people throwing it at trans men for some reason like???? This is legit becoming an exclusionist dogwhistle to me. Any merit to this concept is completely obliterated by assholes who are so addicted to playing oppression olympics they're meticulously crafting pokemon type advantage charts to categorize all the gays based on who actually has "real" problems and who doesn't, it's agonizing.

Like putting "straight/cis passing privilege" up on the shelf next to "comphet" until people can learn how to use it in a way that doesn't invalidate someone else's queerness.

[qingxin-dream]

“Righteousness”

summary | in another timeline, kunikuzushi never redeemed himself. he took interest in a different kind of heart—not the Gnosis, not a Vision—but yours. (art credits: @/Shiqaruki on twitter).

warnings | lore, kidnapping, kuni calls you ‘little songbird,’ profanity, brief mention of physical abuse, manipulation, praise & degradation, pining, obsessive/possessive, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader (wears a dress & lingerie), dominant kuni, choking, yandere jealousy, murder/arson threats, worship, slapping, finger-fucking, mirror sex, kuni receives oral, deepthroating, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, mention of breeding

genre | yandere, smut with plot, canon-divergent

word count | 4.5k

pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

In a time all but forgotten, a young boy sat on his knees, caressing a hand-sewn doll in his palms and looking up with childlike compassion to his companion.

“There once was a puppet solider whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever,” he began, his eyes reflecting the scene of his storytelling imagination.

He gently squeezed the doll in his hands, as if to comfort his companion before the truth spills from his lips. “But the solider didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feelings came from.”

“One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina,” he continued with a more somber tone, drawing attention to the gut-wrenching ending of a tragic romance.

However, his voice shifted, offering soft words of wisdom and hope to his distraught friend. “The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”

Instinctively, the beautiful puppet sitting before the young boy curled his lip in disdain. “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart… but that’s not a real heart.”

He could hear the affectionate smile pulling at the corners of the young boy’s mouth. “Maybe, but what if… hearts can be born from ashes?”

“What a joke. It’s just ashes,” the lonesome puppet can barely conjure up a breath in his agony. “Nothing left but ashes.”

As his chest twisted and clenched with the wretched filth of so-called human emotion, the divine puppet came to a profound realization. His body merely served as a hollow shell, cursed by the ghost of mortal weakness—a living testament to the depths of an Archon’s visceral mourning.

In his naïveté, he had trusted the boy he thought to be his friend. He had believed that silly little fairytale, that maybe he wasn’t as empty and worthless as he felt. There was no heart to be found in the cold vessel of a failed god.

Kunikuzushi would have to claim one for himself.

Sin.

The ultimate temptress of mortals. The manifestation of human greed and desire. That which demands repentance and atonement for fear of eternal damnation. It is hinged on the human condition that death is inevitable.

Mortals are easily persuaded by morals and ideology if it means life after death in a paradise that is not guaranteed. Humans create false narratives to exercise the sick satisfaction of controlling one other. When all is said and done, the real struggle is for power—namely the power to control fate itself.

For those who are destined to roam the world with no such motives, imprisoned in an earthly purgatory, sin and salvation are laughable notions.

There is no reason to live, for you cannot die; Sin knows no bounds and comes with no price.

“The sooner you accept this, the better,” Kunikuzushi laments, his face just inches from yours. The bewitching twinkle in his lavender irises has remained all these centuries, a cruel illusion masking the abyss beneath. “Nothing you say will change my decision.”

You were really quite the picture, if he was being honest, all tied up for him. Kunikuzushi loathed that just the sight of you was enough to make the void in his chest cavity ache with longing. A reminder of his imperfection.

Anyone else would have died a violent death for such a transgression. But you presented a unique opportunity.

“Kuni, please,” you whimpered, your pleas falling on deaf ears. On the contrary, he loves hearing your voice, especially when you beg so earnestly. “I-I don’t know what I did wrong… I’m scared. Please, let me go…”

The puppet hushes you lovingly, his lips brushing against your delicate skin toward your ear. “Hey, now. There’s no need for that. You’re safe with me, little songbird.”

You flinch, gasping and recoiling in fear, turning your head away defiantly. It’s not like you could push him away, your little limbs bound to a tall column in the kitchen nice and tight. Hot tears pricked at your eyes. It burns like hell.

“Untie me, Kuni!” you shrieked, squirming and struggling against the binds to no avail.

He snatches your face firmly between his thumb and two fingers, squishing your cheeks to the point you felt pressure on your skull. “Ungrateful slut. Didn’t I explain this to you already? Your heart beats for me from this day forward.”

Frozen in shock, your body stiffens involuntarily as fear floods your veins, rendering you utterly helpless. Even as he gazed upon you with an icy, detached stare, you couldn’t find it within yourself to fault Kuni for this act of desperation. He could never make sense of himself and the pain that came with betrayal after betrayal.

Why even try to embrace humanity if it would mercilessly punish you for not having a heart?

You still remember the day you found him, it was but a coincidence you both crossed paths. Kuni was a wandering traveler, or at least that’s how he introduced himself. He seemed kind enough. You were particularly taken by his appearance, so lovely it was almost inhuman.

It just so happened that you were willing to offer him a place to stay. It took a bit of convincing on your part, actually, but you were worried about the string of murders near your village recently. Someone must have had an insatiable vendetta against the blade-smithing arts, striking them down one by one.

A small knowing smile pulled at his lips, his eyes creasing slightly with amusement as he marveled at how you opened yourself up so easily. This was the first time he had talked to a human in who knows how long. Perhaps since the young boy’s passing many dreadful seasons ago.

Kuni found the void in his chest persuading him to entertain his curiosity about you.

He had to admit, once you both got to know each other, it was quite the impeccable arrangement. During the day, you provided the kind of mundane tranquility and domesticity he had always dreamed of. Thankfully, your residence was in a rural part of the countryside, which offered much appreciated security and seclusion from the world.

Once you were safely tucked into bed and sound asleep, he would lie restlessly in the guest room. Puppets have no need for sleep. On some lonely moonlit nights, he would entertain his own fantasies of you. In the absence of such desires, he was compelled to satisfy his blood thirst.

Though Kuni had long forsaken the human emotions that afflicted his existence with disappointment and abandonment, his burgeoning relationship with you had quickly proven to be the last remaining vestige of his innocent supplication for a purpose.

In fact, he demanded it, after witnessing you day in and day out slipping from his grasp. He was growing impatient, waiting for something more. You had always stopped short of taking a little leap of faith to hold his hand or kiss his forehead, leaving him yearning for your touch and attention. Why?

Even in your presence, he was not alleviated of his turmoil. A number of possibilities plagued him. Were you dissuaded by his artificial constitution? Did he make a fatal miscalculation? God forbid, was there someone else?

No matter how many times he twisted, folded, and bent reality in his mind, trying to make sense of you, he never came to an agreeable conclusion. By the time Kuni realized just how deep you had nestled yourself into the empty husk of his heart, it was too late for the both of you.

All of this mental anguish and pining was unbearable. Unacceptable. He loved you, yes, but needed you more.

The puppet’s chest fluttered as you willingly complied, tears staining your cheeks, but that’s okay. His soft pink lips brushed against your cheek once more, kissing away your precious tears. It was his first taste of you.

Kuni cradled you in his palms like a delicate doll, his thumbs ghosting your cheeks. He leaned in closer, indigo bangs tickling your face and his mouth parted with a breathless question. “Is your heart… truly mine?”

He had broken you, and you had no choice but to nod slowly.

“Say it for me, little songbird,” he encourages you with a warm intonation. His eyes were trained on your lips.

“I-I’m yours,” you replied weakly.

No sooner than you could speak were his plush lips pressed to yours, a breathy hum of relief exhaling through his nose. In turn, you muffled a whimper, overwhelmed by the sensation. He had untied you, knowing you couldn’t hurt him but he could certainly hurt you.

Kuni was gentle at first, relishing in his first kiss with you. He carefully took your wrists to guide your hands to his body, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you against him. Still, you trembled in his grasp.

“There’s no need to fear,” he whispers between kisses, holding your face to his. “I will take care of you.”

He can’t bear to leave your lips. Guiding you towards him, he leans against the kitchen counter and tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. A small prayer barely escapes his lips. “(Y/N), hold me… touch me… please.”

“Kuni,” you choke out, tears forming in the corner of your eyes again. You are silenced with increasingly fervent kisses, one of his hands trailing down to your neck just by his fingertips, giving you goosebumps in the wake of his featherlight touch.

“You are going to give yourself to me. Your heart is my heart, and I will not have you hiding any part of yourself from me,” his voice grows a bit more insistent, closing his fingers around your throat as a threat, but not yet squeezing. “Do you understand?”

You give a feeble nod, unable to look at him directly. Every time your gaze locked with his, it sent a pang of terror jolting through your fragile body. He brings you closer by your neck, kissing you with more confidence than before. There is a little part of you that is worried you are unable to discern fear from excitement.

The puppet lets his hand slip further, fingertips finding the contour of your chest. He hesitates briefly, then allows his palm to feel your plump breast. The act was enough to elicit a little whine from you, and he knew right then and there that he had to hear it again.

“Do you… have any inclination of how long I waited for you?” he whispers hotly onto your lips, feeling down your waist at an excruciatingly slow pace. He smoothed each wrinkle of your dress with his thumb, tracing the silhouette of your figure down until he felt the hem of your underwear through the thin fabric. His breath caught.

You were still not as receptive to his advances as he would like, and suddenly he scoops you up to hook your legs around his hips, pressing your back against the nearest wall in the hallway. Kuni was beginning to reveal his desperation for you in more ways than one, breathing a little heavier. He was determined to have you submit to him and if you weren’t responsive to his soft side, then so be it.

“Answer me,” Kuni lowers his voice with a commanding edge, his lips just inches from your neck while his messy indigo bangs tickled your jaw. You whimpered, involuntarily moving your hips against him at the mere thought of his mouth on you.

At long last, you found your voice—delicate and decadent with a tinge of spine-prickling anticipation. Perhaps you had lost part of yourself, your humanity, in him too. “H-how long, Kuni?”

You shivered slightly, feeling his mouth spread into a satisfied smile against the sensitive skin of your neck. His voice deepens further, sultry and needy, “Lifetimes… I’ve been so goddamn purposeless for too many fucking lifetimes, just waiting for you.”

Without warning, the touch-starved puppet sunk his teeth into the crevice of your shoulder at the base of your throat, sucking at the weak spot to bruise the skin with his mark. A surprised yelp fell from your mouth, and you so nicely turned your head to offer him more. He clutched your curves tightly, as if he was secretly wishing your bodies would just melt into each other.

Ba-dum… ba-dum… ba-dum…

Your precious heartbeat echoed through his chambers of his chest. Kuni craved that little pulse of yours, chasing it up your neck in heated, sloppy kisses. All the while, you encouraged him with sweet little sounds of pleasure, softly asking for more under your breath.

“It’s mine,” he reiterated, perhaps to help immortalize the sensation against his lips. With a faint growl and yet another love bite, he added, “You’re fucking mine, you hear me?”

If only he could be bothered to pull back and catch a glimpse of how the puppet had unraveled you beyond recognition, equally as intoxicated by the heat of the moment. No matter. He will have his fill of you in due time.

“Y-yours, mhmm,” you capture his wet lips halfway, experimentally swirling your tongue with his passionately. You were clinging onto his shoulders, entangling your fingers in the soft ends of his pretty hair resting on the back of his neck.

With a faint moan against your mouth, Kuni lifted you once more by slipping his hands under your dress to feel his digits press into the soft flesh of your ass. It was light work to carry you, giving him the opportunity to squeeze and smack your ass with a smirk.

Slipping into your bedroom, he set you down and turned you around by your hips so that you were facing the tall mirror just a few feet away from the mattress. He leans over your shoulder from behind and you blush heavily at the image reflected by the mirror. Both of his beautiful hands traveled up your body simultaneously, one feeling your stomach, ribs, breast, and resting around the bottom of your throat.

The other, however, caught the frilly ends of your dress, sliding it up your skin at a painstakingly slow rate. Kuni’s violet irises shimmered with obsessive desire, admiring every inch of your body that was exposed to him. He bunches the dress in his fist as he raises it above your hips, revealing the most angelic lacy undergarments accented with cute little ballerina pink ribbons. Kuni chuckled, his breath tickling your neck.

“Do me a favor, darling,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, kissing it lightly. He takes his time to unveil your breasts, each one perfectly shaped with lovely nipples begging to be pinched. “Open your mouth.”

You comply, watching yourself in the mirror with curious fascination, before Kuni stuffs the thin, light fabric of your dress into your mouth. He nibbles your ear playfully. “Hold that for me.”

His eyes marvel at your body. If you told him you were a goddess, he would believe you without hesitation. Divine or not, the puppet was hell-bent on worshipping you like he had been dreaming of. Kuni played with the intricate lace of your snow white lingerie, his thumb brushing your pelvis teasingly.

Instead, he takes two fingers and caresses your folds outside of the undergarment, pleased to feel your panties dampened with excitement. You quiver at the touch, moaning faintly. Kuni is enthralled by the sweet noise, taking the tiny lingerie by his thumbs and sweeping it down your pretty legs.

He immediately sits down on the edge of the bed, quickly pulling you into his lap and spreading your legs apart with his knees. There it was in the mirror. Your glistening flower framed with the loveliest soft petals.

Kuni couldn’t possibly restrain himself when you were presented so exquisitely, wasting no time to slide his fingers over your pussy. You groaned in pleasure, muffled by the dress in your mouth, relaxing against his chest as the puppet focused on rubbing circles around your clit. He kissed your neck and shoulders endlessly, admiring your reactions in the mirror and whispering lowly, “So good for me. So, so good for me, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”

Your thighs trembled. You desperately wanted to close your legs as his movements became faster on your clit, the stimulation swiftly overcoming you. Breathy moans soon evolved into incoherent pleas. Kuni held you steadfast with his legs, keeping you spread all nice, admiring how you twitched beneath him.

“What did I tell you?” his tone is one of warning, groping your right breast and littering your skin with a few more marks. “There are consequences to hiding yourself from me.”

The puppet suddenly swipes his middle finger over your leaking hole—causing you to moan lewdly—before slapping your pussy. It was a light but firm slap, sending an addicting concoction of both pain and pleasure through you.

After a brief moment, he returns to your folds to trace and admire it, then continuing his ministrations on your clit. Occasionally Kuni would let a finger slip to tease your entrance, finding that it drove you crazy.

“P-please, please, Kuni,” your words quivered like your body, bending easily to the pleasure he was so kindly bestowing you. It had to have been the hundredth small cry for relief tumbling from your throat, you were on the precipice of your climax. “I-I need it. Something, anything… fuck me.”

“You better not cum on my fingers,” the puppet orders, gathering your slick and gently inserting two fingers into your warm walls. You whined in frustrated pleasure as he stretched you slightly, pumping his digits in and out of you barely an inch but keeping you stuffed.

“I c-can’t, I’m…” you babble. Kuni knew you were on the brink already, but he wanted to at least try to prepare you for his cock. He suddenly pulls his fingers out, and with it escapes your climax. Tears were almost pricking your eyes. You could definitely feel them beneath the surface.

He slaps your pussy again as punishment for not listening to his commands. “Greedy sluts are not rewarded.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble and he grunts, pushing you off of him and to your knees in front of the bed. Kuni makes quick work of his clothes, tossing his shirt aside and pulling his pants down enough to spring his throbbing cock free. You had certainly felt his hard length while you were in his lap, but seeing it rendered you speechless.

No different from the rest of the puppet’s beautiful body, Kuni’s cock was perfect. A few veins wrapped around his hard member, bulging under the flesh. Towards the tip, it was gradually flushed pink with hot need, a pearl of precum on his slit. You took him in your hand, butterflies swarming your stomach with the realization that he had more girth than you expected.

Kuni grabbed a fistful of your hair and shoved your face toward his cock with a simple demand. “Suck.”

You experimentally drag your tongue underneath his cock, licking your lips, and working your mouth on his tip to lubricate him first. Kuni’s eyes roll in the back of his head, resting one hand behind him on the bed as he moans deeply. “Fuck, (Y/N)…”

The sensation of you smiling with his cock in your mouth sent warmth through him. You eagerly fit more of him in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue just the way he likes it when you received praise. Yet, Kuni needed more.

“You can do better than that,” he scoffed.

His grip on your hair tightened, pushing your throat completely down on his cock just to feel it once. The puppet twitched in your throat, letting out a seductive growl of pleasure. You gagged slightly, before pulling back with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You coughed a little, but he cupped your chin and wiped it from your mouth sweetly.

“That’s my girl,” Kuni coos, guiding you up on the bed next to him and pushing you down onto your back. As much as he’d love to see you taking him in your mouth all evening, he had a prize more tantalizing waiting for him. Clothes on the floor, moonlight pouring over you both, the puppet vowed to never forget how you mewled as he dragged the pulsing tip of his cock along your wet folds.

Gasping, you achingly bucked your hips in tandem, utterly drunk on the delicious sensation of his thick length parting your pussy lips. You loved to be teased, that much was for sure and Kuni ate it up—the desperate crinkle of your brow in pleasure and how your breath became short.

He presses his tip at your warm hole, but never pushes it in.

You groan dramatically, sweat already forming on your forehead and you haven’t even began. Every bit of pressure he applies has you smitten, imagining the moment he finally fills you. “K-Kuni…”

The smug puppet smirks down at you knowingly, grinding his cock against you repeatedly, rubbing your clit just right. “Yes, my little songbird? Have something to say?”

Before you can speak, he kisses you to muffle your answer. You grow even more impatient, using your legs to keep his hips locked close to yours. Kuni peppers your jawline and neck with kisses and little playful licks of his tongue. “I’m listening.”

“Please,” you beg.

Kuni’s tone is unreadable. “Please what? Use your words.”

You give him a flustered look of desperation and he pins your hands on either side of your head, interlacing your fingers with his. You reply, biting your lower lip, “Fuck m-me, Kuni.”

A smile graces his face and his eyes soften, thumbs caressing your hand comfortingly to brace you for his length. “Is this… your first time, (Y/N)?”

Though you were a shy and kindhearted person, he should’ve known from the way you deepthroated his cock earlier that it wasn’t your first. He wasn’t your first. That means someone else was. Someone else defiled you.

Kuni’s electric purple eyes darkened like an impending storm as you shook your head.

“Indulge me,” the puppet asks. “What other men have been in my position?”

You are not in the right state of mind, still insatiably yearning for your climax and grinding your wet folds on his length. However, Kuni doesn’t accept your nonsensical mumblings and half-answers. His hands tighten around yours, pushing his cock into you with a guttural moan inch by inch until he bottoms out completely.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sputter out, sighing in sweet relief and a bit of pain. Your pussy is filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out good. You try to turn your head away and close your eyes, but Kuni refuses to let you.

“That’s right,” Kuni’s voice is nothing short of alluring in the most raw way possible. “Treat me like your god and fucking look at me while you take my cock.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t also utterly euphoric as he sinks his large member into your tight walls. Gritting his teeth, he’s taken aback by how you squeeze him unknowingly, even your subconscious is unable to deny the pleasure he’s giving you. It took you a few seconds to adjust to his girth, your eyes drifting down his muscular chest and toned abdomen in admiration.

With the first drag of his cock out of you to his tip, hushed hum of pleasures are murmured by each of you, until he buries himself all the way back into you. Kuni continues in this rhythm with a few thrusts, unable to his stifle his own moans. He was no better, his climax already building within.

Pulling back, the puppet releases your hands to push your legs against your chest by your thighs to get just the right angle and perfect view of your folds. He hovers above you, fucking just his hot bulbous tip into your needy hole. In mere seconds, you cursed to yourself at how good it felt when he brushed against your sensitive entrance.

Your clit pulsated for attention. How could he not press his palm onto your pelvis and drag his thumb across the slightly swollen bud? His half-thrusts became shakier as you unexpectedly tightened around his cock—moans freely and loudly erupting from your throat. The feeling was beyond exhilarating and convinced him to push you to your limits.

“You think I’m going to let any other man put his hands on you like this?” Kuni sneers with jealous envy reflecting in his irises. “I’ll fucking snap his neck. I’d kill him.”

Impulsively, the obsessed puppet roughly plunges his entire cock into your soft pussy. He relishes in your loud moan of shock at the pleasure and slight discomfort in splitting you wide open. His cock pushes against that wonderful spot deep inside you, incredibly sensitive after all his torturous teasing. You were seeing more than stars.

“I bet they couldn’t fuck you like I can,” he scoffs, possessively pulling your closer by your legs and holding your ankles on his shoulders as he fucks you mercilessly. “Make you scream like I can. And—nghh—breed you.”

You were finer than a work of art, truly, in all your fucked-out glory as you chase your high on his thick cock. His thumb flitting over your clit messily, primal groans of bliss echoing throughout the bedroom at every divine flutter of your pussy milking his cock so well. Your words were simply unintelligible, mumbling breathy prayers wishing for his seed.

“No one can take you away from me,” Kuni himself is beginning to tremble with pleasure, but nevertheless he keeps up his brutal pace. Every crevice of your walls and your womb will know his essence. “You’re mine, and I’ll burn the whole damn world for you if that’s what it takes.”

In a rush of jealous envy at the mere thought of losing you, the puppet abruptly pushes your legs back onto your beautiful breasts by his chest. The erotic melody of your fluids coating the base of his cock and v-line with every sloppy thrust pushes you both over the edge of an impossible free fall of euphoria.

“Cum on me, (Y/N). C’mon, cum all over my fucking cock,” Kuni demands with salacious desperation, pounding into you again and again until you’ve ridden out every second of your climax. The sensation is indescribable as he swears he could feel your rapid heartbeat through your walls—your heartbeat in his hands like he’s the supreme god of your body.

And as such, he blesses you with ropes of hot cum to drown your pussy in his everlasting love. Kuni collapses and cradles you, wiping the tears of pleasure from your sweet, angelic cheeks.

Righteousness means nothing to gods, for whom salvation is too late and sin knows no price.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

[wroteclassicaly]

Best-friend!Pervy!Reader and Bestie!Eddie, whom is getting so annoyed with you talking during his campaign planning, that he swats your ass a little too hard (you always slap each other’s butts), and you moan. It causes a chain reaction that ends up in you being over his knee and staring at a carpet full of his nasty magazines, babbling about how you want him to do all of that stuff to you. You do, however, get some teasing of your own in.

“Go look in my bag. I brought something I was gonna use in your bathroom when I took a shower.”

When he brings the vibrator into his sights, his eyes widen. “Wait — is this… One of those toy things?”

“That it is.” You’re smirking as he shifts, clearly growing in discomfort, in more ways than one.

“And you were gonna make yourself at home with it in the bathroom I share with my Uncle? The man you look at across the dinner table four nights a week?”

“After I stole a few of your shirts to hump first, that is also correct.”

You’ve never seen the metal-head, motor-mouth so slack jawed and speechless. Until he he says, “You better fuckin’ show me.”

~*~

“Fuck, sweetheart. No, slap yourself with it harder.” A groan of appreciation, before a deep huff of annoyance. “I fuckin’ said — HARDER!” And he has to force his impulses to stay in control, to not overstep and do it himself.

When you struggle to slap the pulsating end of the buzzing toy to your swollen clit, overly slick, you see Eddie completely drunk on you from his palm to chin position, between the plush of your thick thighs. He’s trying to communicate a want without the desire to cross a boundary. You melt and choke on a gasp of excitement, before you level off your ballooning heart rate with a statement.

“Help me, asshole!”

Rings clink, air is inhaled so sharply that you’re surprised he doesn’t choke. The warmth fans across your cunt, making you arch, your embarrassingly soaked pussy leaking into your ass, causing your cheeks to stick when you move. Eddie’s day old washed curls tickle your calve. Shaking fingers are explorative, hesitant, tickling the creamy curls that have matted above your clit. He dips in seconds later, spreading your lips into a typical V.

Firm, confident direction is given next. His lust clouding his usual demeanor. “There. Like —“ He wraps his spare hand around yours over the toy, bringing it down with a strong, sopping wet smack. You both moan out, his getting caught on the sentence’s finish, “— this.”

[boba-beom]

angst and smut thought

rebound!taehyun x reader

your ex is beomgyu and you want to get over him, he seems to have moved on from you already but you just want to forget about him so bad. here comes taehyun who you know is so head over heels for you and is willing to do anything, even if that’s to become your rebound.

one day you see beomgyu live, doing his own thing and he looks happier. your heart aches because you know he doesn’t think about you anymore, but only views you as a friend. his feelings have detached from you ages ago.

wanting to forget about beomgyu so bad and to just feel something, you call taehyun over and of course he doesn’t say no. when he comes over he’s sitting on the edge of your bed, wanting to ask if you’re okay, treading on eggshells around you but you fall to your knees in front of him, hastily lifting his hoodie, fingers quick to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans but taehyun stops you for a second, holding your shoulders so you look up at him.

“wait, are you sure you want to do this?” his eyes full of worry but he just needs to hear your confirmation and he’ll let you continue.

“taehyun please.” you plead, eyes tearing up from frustration, annoyed at yourself, at beomgyu and feeling sorry for using taehyun like this.

“but, you’re not over beomgyu…” his voice gentle, and his thumbs have started to rub on your shoulders gently.

“I will be if you fuck me. please.” your words croak out of your throat in desperation.

taehyun sighs, before nodding and and letting go of your shoulders. watching you resume undoing his pants, hooking your fingers and pulling the denim and cotton of his boxers down to his ankles.

as fucked up as the situation is, his dick’s already half hard from the view of you teary eyed on your knees. you immediately fist his dick, getting him harder before you take him into your mouth. wet, warm and salty, heavy on your tongue as you swirl your tongue around the tip when you come up. that’s how beomgyu liked it. and it seemed taehyun did too from the sinful sounds coming out of your friend’s mouth.

your tears running hot down your cheeks as you have your eyes shut, taking more of taehyun into your mouth until you’re deepthroating him. he was a little girthier than beomgyu, struggling slightly as your throat swallows and squeezes the head of his dick, and you hear a pretty whine from taehyun.

perhaps taehyun was the best choice to help you forget about beomgyu. you’re doing so well, sucking his cock so good you already feel him twitching on your tongue that his head is lolling back, eyes clenching shut while his mouth hangs open, whine after moan after curse.

you take him out of your mouth, slowly pumping along his length as you look up to make eye contact with the man above you. his eyes scan your face, flushed expression with tear stains down your cheeks. he could cum just from the view of his dick in your fist, the corners of your mouth dribbling a mix of his precum and your saliva.

you stand, stripping of your clothes and laying on the space beside him with your legs spread.

“taehyun, fuck me.” you whisper to him, but he heard it loud and clear, along with his heart pounding in his ears.

he takes his hoodie off, it was a grey one just like how beomgyu had a wide collection of grey hoodies. your heart sinks in your chest, not wanting to forget about the little things, but you need to.

taehyun kneels between your legs, his hands skimming up and down the skin of your thighs and bare stomach.

“wanna make you feel so beautiful, ___.” he sighs, enamoured with how someone could ever leave someone as beautiful as you.

“tae…” you wince as you pull him have him hovering over you, using his elbows to support him.

you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, gasping once he sheaths himself inside your aching cunt. you miss beomgyu. fuck, why does he always have to be on your mind.

taehyun stills as he bottoms out, burying his face in your neck and experimented with a single kiss on the side of your neck, testing out the waters to see how you’d react. it felt like fire against your skin, burning and you let him, humming a quiet hum indicating him he was okay to do that.

and so he does. gentle short pecks turning into open mouthed kisses and light sucking across your chest and shoulders. though your mind was still trying to focus on the fact it isn’t beomgyu fucking you, taehyun’s taking it all in. he’s waited so long to make you feel good, to worship your body and decorate you in his marks.

a subtle but sweet moan leaves your lips and it managed to make taehyun buck his hips into involuntarily as he whispers a, “sorry.” against your skin.

“do it again. harder.” your words get shorter and shorter throughout, but taehyun gets it. he stops, looking at you for any doubts in your face.

“are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” his asks sincerely, a hand on your waist and squeezing it tenderly.

“I’m already hurt taehyun, please, just help me forget about beomgyu.” you hold back a sob, tears filling up to the brim again.

you throw your head back once taehyun pulls out until half way and slams back into you, not even making his pace gradual, his hips pistons repeatedly while you manage to let out more moans laced with a couple of shallow sobs.

taehyun’s leaning against your body now, the weight of him warm against your chest as he continues to snap his hips into yours. his head hangs low next to your face. though he’s here rearranging your guts, his heart still aches knowing your mind is still on beomgyu.

his grunts by your ear turned to shaky sighs as he was nearing his orgasm, and so were you. you did have to give credit to taehyun for letting him fuck you, and thinking even just giving him the littlest ounce of affect back would push him over the edge.

your hands sprawl on his back, rubbing tenderly over the ridges of his back muscles and the movement of his shoulder blades until you claw his skin as soon as you felt like you were about to come.

“tae, I want you to cum inside me.” you whispered by his ear.

and that’s all it took for him to slow down his pace with shallow thrusts, feeling his cock pumping out ribbons of his cum inside you. you’re both moaning at the sensation, his warm seed filling you to the brim and your gummy walls contracting around his length.

once he finally stills, he balances on his elbows again, pushing your hair out of your face and resting his palm on your neck.

“if you ever want to forget about him, just use me. okay?” his eyes twinkle at you, and you feel awful but the sex was too good to let it be a one time thing.

you nod slowly, sighing as you attempt a small smile.

“thank you tae. what would I do without you.”

-‘๑’-

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[nonbinary-eddie-munson]

Steve hadn't meant to evesdrop on eddies new band. Really, he was an innocent party here.

Once things had calmed down in the aftermath of Vecna, Steve and Eddie had scrounged up every penny they could -steve even sold his precious beemer so they could have the extra cash- and got the hell out of dodge. Eddie couldn't stay in a town where everyone still looked at him like he was a murderer and Steve loved Eddie too much to keep him trapped in a town that hated him.

They had settled into chicago nicely, far enough away from the hellmouth that was hawkins, indiana that they werent constantly jumping at the sight of their own shadows, but still close enough they could be back in less than a day if shit started going down again.

The metal scene in chicago was just starting to take off, and Eddie quickly fell in with a local band that was in need of a new lead guitar. Steve had yet to meet any of Eddies new band members, his work and class schedules keeping him entirely too busy and exhausted for socializing. All of which led to this moment, Steve hovering awkwardly at the end of the hallway leading backstage as Eddies new bandmates tore him apart.

"Seriously how'd a guy as hard core as Ed end up with a preppy little asshole like that, i mean did you see what he was wearing?" The drummer scoffed

Self-consciously Steve worried at the hem of his black polo, he had stressed over his outfit all evening before they headed out to the venue. Eddie assured him that he looked great telling him he looked "like a sexy little gothed up jock" in his black polo, his tightest jeans and just the barest hint of eyeliner and mascara to make his eyes pop

"I know it must have been slim pickings back in butt fuck nowhere but Ed's got options now. Sure, the guy has a nice ass, but Ed could pull someone who's not gonna ruin our cred by dating a guy who looks like a narc" the bassist added on meanly.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat Steve turned to head back to the bar when Eddies voice stopped him in his tracks.

"People who disrespect my boyfriend dont get to talk about his ass" came Eddies sharp reply "Steve is more metal than all of you dumb fucks combined, and he's the inspiration behind all of the lyrics that are making us so big in the scene right now. If you cant fucking respect my boyfriend, you sure as hell dont deserve to get famous off the songs i wrote about him so im fucking out and im taking my songs with me."

"Ed you cant be fucking serious" the drummer started

"No, fuck you guys! You act all high and mighty but your just as fuckin shallow and small minded as the dumb hicks Steve and I left Indiana to get away from. Good luck finding someone to replace me and my songs before the fest next month" Eddie spat, his footsteps thundering against the concrete floor and around the corner into the hallway, coming up short as soon as he spotted Steve frozen in the hallway shocked at Eddies fierce defence of him.

"Oh sweetheart" Eddie crooned bringing a hand up to cup the side of Steves face his thumb gently swiping away the tears Steve hadnt even realized had begun to fall "I'm sorry you had to hear that baby. Lets go home" Eddie took his hand back from Steves face, wrapping it around his waist and tucking Steve firmly against his side ushering a still dazed Steve down the hall, out of the bar and into the cool night air

"Your didnt have to do that Eds" Steve said quietly, reluctantly pulling away from Eddie now that they were out in the open where anybody could see.

"Of course i did baby. You're the love of my life. You matter more to me than anything else in this world. More than my guitar and metal and dnd. And certainly more than some mouth breathers who wouldnt know what metal is if it got up on stage and took a bite out of a demon bat" Eddie replied with a grin and a wink swooping down to press a quick peck against Steves mouth as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk frozen in shock at Eddies declaration

"Im more important to you than music and dnd?" Steve asked in a quiet awed voice, his heart beating rapidly as if it was trying to physically escape his chest and burrow itself into the flesh of Eddies own ribcage.

"Sure are sweetheart, now why dont you get that sexy ass of yours moving so we can get home and I can show you just how much I mean it" Eddie replied, his voice lowering into a deep gravel that drove Steve crazy, hands reaching out to pull Steve forward a few steps urging him in the directon of the van parked furthur down the street.

Steve stumbled after Eddie, letting the other man lead him, his brain still not fully back online after Eddies bold decleration of love.

Steve didn't believe in any god, but he found himself thanking every god he could think of for bringing Eddie Munson into his life.

[tastefulstars]

after starcourt, after the russians and the mindflayer, Billy isn't doing well. His body has healed, faster than it should - the kids say it's a gift, Billy says it's a curse.

the group has gathered at harringtons house, the kids discussing the latest world ending events. You can't blame them, they're kids and they've been through so much, too much. They need to decompress somehow. You let them talk until one of them says an thoughtless comment about Billy, about how he killed half the town, and you see the moment Billy shudders, see the way he hunches in on himself and his eyes slip downwards.

"I mean this with no respect but shut the fuck up" you snap, anger welling in your veins.

The older teens try to placate and settle you, and the kids get worked up from being yelled at. You ignore them and move to Billy.

"Don't you dare listen to them. Everything that happened, whether you were in control or not, it happened, and everything you did, you did to survive. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. He tortured you, Billy, and not one of them -" you jab your finger at the group, "- could have held together as long as you did. Don't you dare listen to them when they have no idea what you went through, what you survived."

There's a stunned silence over the group as you finish speaking, you keep your eyes on Billy. Waiting for your words to sink in, his eyes drift up to you - watery and glassy, just like the ocean on a clear day. He leans towards you, seemingly seeking comfort from your presence.

"I couldn't- I couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop him." His voice cracks, breaks and waivers. Tears begin to fall and you reach for him, trying to hold him together.

"He kept showing me -" he cuts himself off, shuddering and gasping for air. You pull him in, wrap yourself around him, and let your own tears fall.

Billy clings to you as he silently cries into your neck. You shift slightly, glaring as best as you can and mouth 'fuck off' to the group.

They leave, some of the kids whispering questions at the older teens, and you just cling to Billy tighter, let his tears soak your shirt, and his fingers grip bruises onto your skin.

[sohyuki]

YURI BRIAR fic where you are a teacher at eden academy and you meet yuri when he stands in for yor and loid (they both had missions!) during a parent-teacher meeting. he agrees because yor asked (loid also asked but yuri said no) and because maybe his niece is kinda dumb and cute. when he gets to anya’s class, he meets you, anya’s botany teacher. he doesn’t think much of you because you’re just another teacher in this pretentious academy anyway. 

but then he starts to see you everywhere??? the local launderette he frequents to (the old lady behind the counter doesn’t ask about the blood on his clothes), his favourite bakery (the salesboy is an informant), the park just outside his house (ideal spot for reconnaissance) and he’s convinced you’re either a stalker or a spy. 

so one day, when yuri bumps into you at the bookstore, he corners you near the shelves and is like: 

 “alright fess up, you’re stalking me, aren’t you?” 

and you are beyond confused because you keep seeing him everywhere as well so you poke his chest and say “i’m not????????? and how do i know you aren’t stalking me huh?”

yuri doesn’t know what to say at first because you’re so vastly different from the quiet botany teacher from eden academy. he makes a face at you and leaves the bookstore with a “don’t follow me!” 

(and he hates, god, he hates the way he's curious now)

unfortunately, a few days later, yuri discovers that you live in the same apartment complex. a horrible, horrible discovery because he’s tired from work and not only has his launderette and bakery been taken over by you, but now his home as well?! 

you spot him walking to the entrance as well and make the briefest eye contact before a resounding “ugh” leaves the two of you. 

at first, he hates knowing that you’re just two floors above him. he hates that you leave home the same time as he does, that you take the same route to the bus stop, that you take the same bus, that you like the same seed crusted bread. it’s too much and yuri is Not for it. but then he sees you crying on the front steps one day after your lover breaks up with you. and and you leave water and medicine outside his door the night he comes home drunk. and you invite him for dinner one night because "i made too much okay. stop talking and just enjoy the food" 

and you (reluctantly? yuri thinks he’s definitely reluctant) celebrate new years’ together. yuri brings you slices of cake after work and crashes on your couch. the two of you are spending more and more time in each other’s homes that one day, during breakfast, you say “hey, want to move in together? you already know how i like my coffee and it’d be cheaper” 

and so you move in together but you’re friends and yuri thinks its weird but he thinks it's weirder that he's happy about it. and even weirder that he doesn’t rage at the thought of loid with his sister (he does still huff about it and glare at him but it’s an improvement!) but what baffles him the most is how comfortable he is with you and how it’s been a long time since he’s lived with someone other than his sister. it’s weird, yuri is convinced that there is something unnatural about this arrangement but seeing you every morning (bed head and all) fills his chest with light. 

[mugentakeda]

the tapping of his fathers pacing on the tile is almost enough to drive him mad.

“don’t let your brother’s incessant whining cause you to falter. this is merely a short visit to discuss the matter at hand, and then you’re on your way right back to ba sing se. he will try and whisper doubt in your ear.” the firelord stops to shake a finger at him. “do not listen to him for anything! i will help you in the best of my ability to have this taken care of.”

“i’m not,” iroh snaps impatiently, digging his palms into his eyes. “i’m not listening to him, father. he doesn’t care for lu ten and he doesn’t have to. he has his house and i have mine. empty words have little meaning to me at the moment.”

his father purses his lips. the sting of his stare digs down to the core.

“you say that,” azulon snaps, “but i believe this to be a family affair. its possible lu ten was taken advantage of because he was too busy protecting ozai’s wife and ozai’s children to protect himself. if that’s true, then ozai owes him. i don’t give a damn if he cares about him as his nephew or not. lu ten honored his house, so he shall honor lu ten in return by shutting his trap for once.”

iroh doesn’t have the strength to respond. he’d left ba sing se in a rush after receiving the news, and ordered the shipmen to get him back home on the double. he’s sick, he’s tired, he’s terrified and angry, and he misses his son something awful. the last thing iroh cares about right now is what ozai does or has to say.

there’s a heavy, sad sigh from above him. azulon slowly makes himself comfortable on the sitting cushion next to him, grunting as his bones creak. he sets the knocked over teacup straight again and refills it. the familiar heat and fragrance does nothing to soothe iroh, however.

“there is nothing i can say to make you feel better as of right now,” his old man mutters, sitting the teapot back down with uncharacteristic gentleness, “nor can i say anything sure about ursa or the children. but lu ten, he…. he is a remarkable young man. thick skinned and ornery. lightning generation at only 21, can you believe that? he beat you by a whole year. you must have faith in him.”

“it’s not about having faith in my son, father, of course i have faith in my son. but i have no faith in whoever has- has stolen him from me!” iroh suddenly exclaims, gesturing wildly. azulon flinches as his hands come dangerously close to knocking over the tea again.

your boy flagrantly disrespected you and stayed home to laze around, ozai had hissed, his narrow eyes locked straight up at the throne. both were kneeling before their father’s throne, side by side. i don’t know why you even bother. if he thinks he’s so grown up then he can save his own skin.

iroh didn’t bother to respond. he has nothing to say to his brother even on the best of days. all his life, he’s been nothing but a background character to iroh. always insisting on holing up in his room or office, never joining family dinners or celebration banquets. never one to offer his congratulations, but expects his older brother to offer his. yet, he always liked to think his word was of any significance to iroh. that he was always to be heeded. respect to his elders only means something to his little brother if there’s something to be gained.

flagrant disrespect. lu ten did not disrespect him if iroh never directly asked or ordered anything of him in the first place. he implied it, and lu ten pushed back. it hurt, but it would’ve also been the boys first true venture outside the fire nation. so iroh understood the hesitancy.

iroh would’ve just had lu ten by his side in his war council anyway. he would’ve never seen the battlefield or the city until iroh leveled it. not a spot of green would be spared by his men.

he had envisioned himself shooting a hole right through the flimsy palace wall with his lightning, and his son by his side. winning.

nothing has gone the way you made it out to be, great spirit. i don’t feel very lucky, as of late. the evening sun peaking through the tall windows of the corridor offer his thoughts no response. the general sighs heavily, and continues on his way.

the royal procession had gone through the beach house, along with the rest of the island. not a trace left behind. no sign of a struggle, either.

the procession claims it’s like they vanished out of thin air, sir, jee had whispered.

delicate situations such as this one call for holding the ones you trust most closer than ever. thus, iroh took only his personal guards from ba sing se back with him. jee is a rugged and introverted man, one that iroh knows can keep a secret, so he has been acting as his messenger man and valet for the time being.

another member of his most trusted circle is one of his longest working servants, one that belongs to iroh’s house personally. her name is su, and she is a stout woman around his father’s age. stern and silent, but trustworthy. she was the one that kept a close eye on lu ten from a distance during the periods of time iroh wasn’t around in his youth. she had been the midwife at his birth, she had been the one to pick the wet nurse.

and she had slipped iroh a journal outside of lu ten’s room. leather bound and stained in a deep red, with delicate embroidery of lotus flowers decorating its cover. it looked like something the lady ursa would gift him.

i came across this left behind in lady ursa’s garden, your highness, she had murmured fiercely. i snatched it right up and held it for you upon your return, lest it fall into the wrong hands.

the dark, warm silence of iroh’s own chambers is a small comfort, but the cold leather of the journal in his hands chains him to the cruel reality.

one of the vows iroh made for himself when lu ten came into puberty was that he would never violate his son’s privacy. he’d like to think that his son’s life possibly being in danger is a good enough reason to break it, but it still feels… wrong. especially now that he’s an adult himself.

it’ll be like eating a dollop of wasabi, he tells himself. spicy and painful one moment, then fading tingling the next.

with a sigh, he cracks it open to the back page. a few lines of familiar scrawl.

and the reason i torture myself trying to ignore all these things about him that bother me is because….

he looks away, shame crawling up his back. the candle sitting at the corner of his desk flicker along with his irregular, fear ridden heart.

a dollop of wasabi, he reminds himself. he opens his eyes again with a long breath and looks back down at the journal once more.

…well, that’s the crux of it. i just don’t know how to finish that sentence anymore.

that tells him a whole lot of nothing.

iroh flips the page back again, and is immediately overwhelmed by completely filled pages. then startled, by the sheer amount of times his own name pops up to his searching eyes among walls of scrawled text.

unease curls in his gut, like a dragon slowly rising from a slumber.

the ink doesn’t look too old. and su had said she found it in the lady ursa’s garden. and then jee said the royal procession claimed the fours’ trip to ember island was only to last three days, tops.

and as far as iroh knew, lu ten had been keeping quietly busy after iroh’s departure to ba sing se. lu ten willingly buried himself in paper work, always hunting for things he had the power to make into his business. training with lightning generation was grueling, and took hours, on top of the meditation necessary. and it takes a clear mind to even work with lightning, so…

had he done something recently to upset lu ten, and didn’t realize it? what things about iroh did lu ten torture himself trying to ignore? dramatic wording like that is difficult to overlook.

the general thinks back to how well his son can hide his emotions. lu ten’s court face beats even ozai’s, so it made him a gnarly pai sho opponent, but… he never did the backhanded comments. he can lie, but he’s a man of action before a plotting one. so you’ll never see the storm coming until it hits you directly in the face.

the letters he got back from him in ba sing se were… neutral. unbothered. he hadn’t seemed very troubled at the palace gates during his departure, either. tired and a bit wary, maybe.

but now that he thinks about it, the way lu ten looked at him had been… strange. his eyes had an emotion swirling in them that the general couldn’t read.

he rapidly rolls over the most recent letters in his head, the days right before leaving, trying to think of what he might have done to set lu ten off-

…the tiff they had on the evening before iroh’s departure.

he had forgotten about it completely.

spirits, he’d forgotten about it by the time he stepped foot on the shore. the elation of finally arriving at ba sing se, the first big step toward fulfilling the biggest thing he’s wanted to accomplish his entire life, the ultimate win, decades of planning and dreaming, inspired by agni herself…

he’d been caught up in the heat of the moment.

it didn’t even turn into an actual argument, that’s how small the tiff had been- a few things thrown back and forth during their private dinner, and the rest of it had been spent in awkward silence. iroh had let his hurt get the better of him, and he got testy.

the only thing that spoiled his ongoing luck, his relief of finally being able to go and crush his country’s most stubborn opponent, to make the second biggest win since sozin- was his own son not joining in, or showing any interest.

and that wasn’t even it. the closer iroh and his advisors got to bringing their planning to a conclusion, the more withdrawn lu ten became. whenever iroh brought it up, his son would close like a firelily in the night.

i assumed you were above teenage rebellion, iroh had muttered. i understand you want accomplishments of your own, but-

teenage rebellion? you’re joking, right? why do you always insist on- on patronizing me whenever we don’t agree on something? if you think you’re gonna guilt trip me into changing my mind, you’ve got it all wrong.

the disbelieving, ever so slightly shriller tone lu ten’s voice took on reminded iroh of his mother. she always had the habit of raising her voice a few pitches when she got upset. it reminded iroh of a coyote-eagle, once upon a time. the older lu ten got, the taller and leaner his face and physique became, the more time they spent apart, it’s like a vivid repeat of his mother. he even became a hand talker when iroh hadn’t been looking, just like fuhua.

(are habits hereditary, or had fuhua died after running away, and came back to haunt him?)

it’s probably best to start a bit further back in the journal. it might provide the context this father needs. he flips the pages for a few moments, and stops at random.

i spoke with a gentleman from the earth kingdom today during my observational trip through the colonies closest to the homeland. if you didn’t look close enough, you would’ve thought him to be any old fire nation fisherman, but i know green eyes when i see them.

his wife was a sailor that hails from caldera city. they met across the seas, in a neutral port town. they have two young twins, just barely older than zuko and azula. isn’t that something?

now, that is something iroh never bothered doing when he was a young man- it’s only now that his joints won’t let him run around chasing skirts anymore that he’s become a people person. but he’s proud of his boy for taking that initiative and having such a sense of responsibility, to go and mingle with the common man. an empathetic ruler that’s popular with his people will have the surest and furthest reaching authority, after all. iroh couldn’t name a single councilman off the top of his head that would be willing to even breathe the same air as a commoner, much less a colonial mutt.

however… this isn’t a colonial. he’s too keen on the idea of his family members’ abductors being petty, revenge seeking crooks from the earth kingdom to be okay with the idea of his son even conversing with one. for all they claim to be true and steadfast, them sneaking in and attacking an unarmed woman and her young children in their beach house just to get back at iroh is all too realistic of an idea.

but lu ten wasn’t unarmed. lu ten is one of the strongest men in the fire nation, and iroh isn’t even being biased about that. it takes prodigy to conjure lightning, and mastery to control it. and lu ten was very protective of ursa and the children- almost too protective. back in the day, during celebration parties at the palace, lu ten would damn near prowl around a pregnant ursa to fend off the careless crowd, lest they bump into her and jostle her. and he’d only been just a young teenager himself, so it was like watching a polar bear puppy that thought itself a snarly guard dog.

then a few years ago, there had been an incident where lu ten claimed zuko’s instructors were smacking him around. he’d grabbed both of the men by the collar and dragged them both viciously through the palace and right out the door- only after the sharpest scolding iroh’s ever heard since his mother was still alive. he’d never seen his son so angry. he’d chuckled at the way those old instructors had babbled apologies and fell to lu ten’s feet, while patting ursa’s back gently as she floundered.

no, it’s doubtful that an old fisherman had anything to do with it. earth kingdom or not. this is just something he needs to talk to his son about once he’s found. it would take a group of very strong benders to take lu ten down, at the very least.

he was wisecracking and friendly. we talked about his business, the officials that take care of the town and the surrounding environment, how he met his wife. he even shared his lunch during our time together- grilled fish, fragrant with sumac and citrus, and a chilled earth kingdom style mint tea. it was refreshing and unique, and i want to do it again. you’d think the fire nation would pick up these little things as it expands, but it just drowns it all out. i’m not sure if that’s a good thing. what made the food good was its earth kingdom style and seasoning, after all. what made the man interesting was his earth kingdom raised manner.

…what made lu ten think it was a good idea to write such things in a journal, and then be so careless to just forget it in ursa’s garden? he’ll have to thank su for her keen eye. if someone lacking critical thinking happened to pick this up and turn it in to his father, he’d have to deal with his son having allegations of sedition on top of everything else.

iroh, personally, is more than happy to let all traces of chilled tea get drowned out. it’s a frequent and light hearted debate between a father and son, the do’s and don’ts of tea. iroh is a stickler for tradition and enjoying the natural flavors. the fire nation boasted only the most fragrant flowers to enhance only the most delicate flavors of only the finest tea blends, after all.

his son claimed it all tasted like dinky dirt water, and stubbornly stuck with his cold hibiscus teas with herbs, and his heavily spiced and creamed saffron teas. it had been a big joke back then, but now… not so much.

a whole lifetime of a father making his son tea, sharing one of his passions. conversations over tea, tea for soothing a sore throat after screaming matches with councilmen, tea to wash down sea water accidentally swallowed at the beach. traditional methods, ceremonies, porcelain pots precious enough to buy a whole town- but it’s dirt water. yet an old fisherman from their greatest enemy shares ice water with a few mint leaves in a tin cup, and its unique.

and he wants to do it again.

the personal betrayal somehow hurts more than the blatant treachery written out plainly on the paper.

to be honest, i think that it’s a great shame that a good man like that has to be careful on his own property-property he paid for with his own money and built with his own hands- due to being from the earth kingdom, even if he has a strong marriage to a fire nation citizen. i thought about it for a long time, and realized that even if he wasn’t loyal to the crown, i didn’t mind. i don’t get angry at the idea, and i don’t think i ever have. i didn’t even think about it until i left. he made good company, offered to share his food with me, and introduced me to his beautiful children as if i was his new neighbor. i think community like that is something the fire nation needs. especially the nobility, who you’d think all have iron sticks shoved up their asses.

interactions like that are the most important ones to me, because they challenge me the most. i hate to cheapen that by thinking i just enjoy being challenged to spite my traditions and elders, or to be contrarian. that’s what coming of age means to me- looking inward, and asking the big questions.

…this can’t be why lu ten has been so distant lately.

the general slowly shuts the journal in dull horror. how long has this sickness had time to fester his son’s soul?

he swallows hard, and gingerly slides the journal in the folds of his robes. under no circumstance can anyone get their hands on it.

and later, when his gut quits churning and the candles around him quit threatening to set his room on fire, he’ll read this whole journal, front to back. brand every sentence, every symbol into his eyes. then he’s gonna burn it, bring his son home, and ask him what the hell he’s thinking.

the next morning, after letting the foul scent of burnt leather fade from his chambers, iroh finds jee.

“what can i do you for, your highness?”

“i need you to bring me the finest bounty hunter money can buy,” iroh murmurs. there’s a madness in his eyes and in his grip now that he’s had time to ponder the contents of his son’s journal, and what they entail. “and no matter what, it stays between us. i do not care what measures you must take to keep it that way.”

jee swallows hard and salutes with purpose. the poor man must be able to his see stress all over his face, but he’s barely containing himself the way it is.

this was no kidnapping. the blasted earth kingdom has everything to do with it, naturally, but it was no kidnapping.

jee returns to him that evening, followed by a lovely young woman, head to toe in black leather. her gait oozes confidence, and her narrow eyes scream danger.

this is definitely not the kind of finest iroh meant by finest bounty hunter money can buy, but he’ll take it.

“…i’ve, uh. fulfilled your request, your highness,” jee says. he looks flustered, and is clearly refusing to even glance at the woman.

“with a few breaks in between, i’m guessing. your collar is uneven, soldier,” iroh deadpans. he’d call it a shame if he wasn’t curbing an episode at the moment.

jee makes a faint noise of distress and fumbles with his uniform, blushing a deep red. iroh realizes that was the wrong thing to say at how the fair lady scowls at the crude jab.

she shoves past jee with an aggressive shoulder clip and crosses her arms before the general.

“i was promised a shitload of coin in exchange for some missing royals,” she says, voice clipped. “i don’t like to work with your kind, but good money is good money. and i can promise better and quicker results than any phony bounty hunter in the world- my companion is a shirshu. she can sniff out a rat from a whole continent away.”

a shirshu, eh? it would seem my luck has made its return after long last.

“impressive,” iroh praises truthfully. he’s a weak man for crass and foul-mouthed women. “i’d like to take a look at this beast, and then we can discuss the details and prices. i also hope you’re alright with keeping this transaction under wraps, my dear.”

she sneers. “you can call me june. and i’d highly suggest keeping a few steps away from my nyla, for your own good.”

jee clears his throat. “i’d listen to that one, sir. her creature is something else.”

iroh hums pleasantly, and keeps a few paces behind june as they go. a strange calm has washed over him now that the universe finally makes sense to him again; he has a few more people he’d like to question, and he’ll be all set. then sooner, if he’s lucky, rather than later, his sister-in-law, his nephew, and his niece will all be found and returned home, safe and sound. his son will be in his arms, whole and unharmed. ba sing se will simply have to wait.

and if they’re lucky, the dragon of the west won’t have thought up a better solution to finally grinding their sorry ashes into their own dirt by the time he gets back. but regardless, he will win.

[manicpixiedreamcrowley]

mall au where crowley works at spencer’s and aziraphale works at barnes and noble

[skitskatdacat63]

Prince Jenson of Somerset

+ process & lore

Yayyyyy omg finally have drawn portraits of the four main characters!!!! I'll show the process of Jenson's first and then them all four together. Though it's a shame the Seb/Fernando ones are older, I think it's hopefully obvious how much I've improved since November?

Look at him in all his handsome, princely glory 🥹 It's funny, I'm always happy with the second sketch and initial lineart, and then I start coloring it and I absolutely hate it, and it takes a significant amount of time into the painting for me to like it again. And then I reach a certain point and I'm in love with it again. Ugh though I gotta say, I love drawing the curls, it's just so 18th century, but at the same point, man I always will love my original lineart for the hair the best ah. Also yes I absolutely had to give him a big ass hat with feathers, he really is that kinda guy to me. I originally drew a bicorne and then realized that those don't really exist until basically almost a century later oops, so tricorne it is!!

Okay now omg look at them all together 🥹

Haha wow I have improved a lot! Just like the Seb/Fernando ones, Mark and Jense's were meant to be put together. I think there's a lot of inherent characterization in their poses that highlight the difference between them. Mark is looking up, very wistful, looking up to greater people, greater things. Jenson's head is tilted down, almost looking at the viewer, he is very satisfied with his role and revels in it, he's here to slay!

Okay, yes, lore, characterization, sorry that it is so far down on the post!!

Jense would probably be the fan favorite if this AU was an actual book or show or something. He's the guy you randomly find while browsing Wikipedia and you're like, woah this guy is so cool??? Unlike Sebmarknando, he doesn't really have the same level of angst, he's kinda just chilling. He's a bit harder to write a lore post about, because he's basically that character who is always magically around the corner, ready to witness some crazy thing and just breeze past it.

He is less linked to Seb than people like Mark and Fernando, because he's basically just his personal minister of transportation(read: horse fucker), so he avoids a lot of the relationship complications and drama, but that isn't to say he's completely uninvolved. He really likes Seb, and loves to hang around with him and serve him, but he's not as beholden to him. He's who everyone goes to air their grievances or to get away from the others, and he's very happy with this role. He's generally willing to play any side in an argument, but does tend to have a pretty big soft spot for Seb overall(Seb also gives him cuteness aggression, and he wants to bite him. Especially when Seb puffs himself up and acts super bratty when he gets offended at not being seen as a proper ruler.)

He's royalty from other kingdom, but pledged his loyalty to Seb's kingdom when he was quite young and has served him(his father first) ever since. He started off somewhat low in the military, rose to a pretty high rank, was a renowed war hero, and then ended up retiring pretty early to tend to Seb's horses. That's an oversimplification, but yeah. He liked the military life, was very good at it, but decided he had done enough, and wanted to be involved in more direct service, albeit more laid back. As I mentioned in Mark's post, Mark *really* doesn't understand his choice to do this, because if Mark had been in Jense's position, he can't ever imagine being able to let all that go and living the quiet life.

He is the palace whore, everyone has been with him honestly. It'll be like, some man walks into his bedroom, only to see Jenson in bed with his wife, but instead of being angry, he's like "wow you couldn't even wait for me??" He's just very carefree, and happy to just slut around and tend to Seb's horses.

I think he definitely still advises Seb, and would go to battle if truly need be, but generally seems to be living in a different world than the weird psychosexual homoerotic political drama that the others seem to be living in. But as I said, it's not like he doesn't contribute to it! He loves to goad Fernando, and constantly plays devil's advocate in "debates" between Fernando and Seb. He's also obviously the one that keep "accidentally" locking them in rooms and forgetting where the key is.

Sorry if this isn't very explanatory, I hope it gives a general idea to the type of character he is???? As always, let me know if you have any questions! I kinda struggled on what to write here because I'm finishing this at almost 8 am 😭 so I'm not sure if it's great or not. But basically you need to know: horse fucker who is generally breezy and carefree but also can be a bit of a menace to society every once in a while.

[whumpy-wyrms]

giving all your ocs the alien ikea plushie. shrinking two of them a little bit for basil and sasha

anton loves it so much he says thank u

[lucidmagic]

I’ve been watching art restoration/crafting/blacksmith videos on Youtube lately and now I have a cute Donna and Phyto!Reader AU.

Donna is a Doll maker/art restoration Youtuber with a decent sized following (not in the millions but definitely has five to six figures in the community). No one has heard her voice (she uses a voice filter or just captions), seen her face, or even know where she is from. But she’s popular because her work is fantastic and it is clear she is knowledgeable (also because she has swoon-worthy hands, and sapphics love her-- she’s flattered but flustered when she learns of this). People have also noticed she has a favorite doll (Angie) and it has become a game with her and her followers-- a ‘where’s Angie’ in every new video. Angie plushies are a staple in Donna’s fan shop.

Anyway, Phyto’s Guide Reader is working at the botanical gardens in the city and does their research. Sometimes in the lab, they relax with Donna’s videos which often has nice music and ASMR sounds. A dear fan and subscriber for years and they often comment on Donna’s videos, to which Donna has recognized the username whenever she gets a notification and has replied on multiple occasions. Reader is also known in the community to give facts about the types of wood/plant based stuff Donna uses and gives recommendations/techniques for them. Donna has implemented some of these facts/techniques in some videos.

Eventually, through some plot I don’t care to think too hard on, the two DM one another over something relating to both of their fields and it starts an online friendship. Over the course of months and years. Reader sometimes sends sample woods to Donna to feature in her next project and Donna sends little knickknacks of scraps from her labors.

Then one day, months/years later, Donna sends a DM and is like ‘you work at this place right?’ and Reader is like ‘yeah???’ and Donna responds with ‘I mayyyyy be in the area for business related things’ and of course the Reader is like ‘o-O’

Parasocial crush in town???? Holy fuck, act cool, be cool.

A few DMs later, they agree to meet. Because honestly, if either of them were serial killers and targeting the other, there has to be easier ways than stringing someone along for years, you know?

Anyways, the day of the botanical gardens meeting comes and both are nervous as hell. And they finally set eyes on one another (’how will I recognize you?’ Donna: ‘if you see a pale-ass woman and think damn she must be mentally-ill, that’ll be me.')

They both immediately think:

*parasocial crush increases by 9000%*

They’re a bit giddy meeting each other and it‘s slightly awkward for a moment, but quickly they shake it off. Reader gives Donna a tour of the gardens and Donna takes the Reader to lunch and they just... talk.... and just click.

Eventually, Donna has to return home, numbers are exchanged, but she makes sure to visit again in the future. And again. And again.... and again....

. . .

A few years later, Donna uploads a regular video, her loyal subscriber base has grown naturally, and Angie is still her page’s mascot. Privately, the Reader and her got over their tip-toeing and started dating. Everything is normal... until...

“Wait... is Donna wearing an engagement ring?”

“DONNA GOT ENGAGED DONNA GOT ENGAGED”

“holy fuck someone knows her face”

“CONGRATS DONNA”

“OUR DONNA IS GETTING MARRIED”

“When’s the wedding?????”

“the lesbians are QUAKING”

“Fiance reveal?”

“When the fuck did this happen???”

“NEW DONNA LORE JUST DROPPED YA’LL”

[littlexdeaths]

okay but a fic based on thinking of you by katy perry…

it’s been a year after eddie is presumed dead in the upside down, and reader starts dating steve.

however every touch, kiss just reminds her of eddie. but she keeps up the relationship anyway, despite how terrible she feels.

until one night she finds a familiar, yet strangely different version of the metalhead she thought she lost standing at the foot of her bed.

bloody red eyes staring right through her as he mutters a broken, “you didn’t wait for me.”

[stiffyck]

could you imagine ll!scar meeting dl!pearl?

Oh. Oh yeah. (This is all platonic btw!!)

I can see Pearl looking at Scar, waiting for him to say something...

Scar has the hood of his cloak pulled over his head and is refusing to meet Pearls eyes.

And Pearl raises her hands, silently asking for permission. When scar doesn't react, she gently takes the hood down, seeing all the bandages on his face, the burned and scorched skin. The deep red eyes and white hair. And she sees the look in his eyes as he avoids hers. She sees the unshed tears and the shame in his eyes.

She gently rests her hand o his cheek, turning hid head to look at her. And she smiles at him with such a sad smile and promises him that whoever had done this to him will suffer. Both her hands rest on his face as a tear slides down and she just wipes it with her thumb.

And she gently tugs him in for a hug as Scar breaks.... and he feels as if he finally has someone by his side....

[layzeal]

the cavemanji fanfic dialogue is a special type of "he wouldn't say that" because in this case he LITERALLY wouldnt say that. how did we go from lwj's incredibly formal and succinct manner of speech to "wangji likes wei ying. wei ying good."

[that-was-anticlimactic]

one of the worst feelings ever is wanting to write but your hands hurt too much or the words just don’t want to work so you just sit there staring at a half finished doc with tears in your eyes bc you want to write and you need to write but everything is telling you that you can’t