#Spark Structured Streaming
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xavieremix · 10 months ago
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okay so the tags on that last post got me feeling those melon collies so i'm just gonna. tagdump in here. slightly sensitive topics? so uh. scroll down (or press J to jump to next post). or read my thoughts like the morning paper. sorry. cheers.
#edit: oh cool the mature content warning doesn't actually hide the tags? that's fucked.#i'll drag these to the top hopefully it'll push some lines back#one last space-filler tag for the road - weird brain thoughts afterwards#i dunno i'm just. i do not have a sense of self. i do not have a sense of identity.#essentially anything i can ascribe to myself is worn in the same vein that it fits close enough.#like clothes picked out after hours of unsuccessful shopping and im just tired and want to go home#am i a writer? sure. i write decently. i have a decent grasp of sentence structure. puts me leagues above plenty of other writing i see.#but then when i actually decide that i should write something i'm just filled with dread.#i can't respond to rp's i enjoy with partners i enjoy. i can't write fics about prompts and premises that i like.#am i a gamer? sure. i got multiple consoles; multiple game sources for each console; a backlog of games ive had to catalog.#but when i try to pick one out to play i just. don't want to. nothing appeals. nothing looks fun. i ask for suggestions and i take none.#anything singleplayer i have to stream or it's not fun. anything multiplayer i have to coordinate with others until we get bored.#what do i *do?* what do i *enjoy?*#i can keep myself occupied if needed but at the end of the day im not fulfilled#am i a programmer? that's the closest thing to enjoyment i've gotten in a long time#but do i actually enjoy the act of programming or do i enjoy the result#where at the end of the day i can show off what i made and get lauded with praise#i get a similar sense of satisfaction when im doing tech support and pull something out my ass and everybody goes “whoa how'd you do that”#the analogy that i've used a lot is how in some games at the start it's fine and fun#you're getting progression you're making progress you're learning and earning#but eventually it just. stops. there's more - not just in theory; it's right there! you can see it! - but it's just. so far away.#you can get there EVENTUALLY but it's just a grind. just a slogfest. there's more to unlock. more to explore. just sign in today. tomorrow.#keep coming back. you'll get there. eventually. it'll take forever.#now if this was an ACTUAL video game people would recommend that you stop and step away. does it spark joy? no? stop playing.#but ah. i can't quite stop playing this one.#and don't worry! i don't plan on putting down the controller! even though i mope and grump and weirdtalk my way down this hill#there is ZERO chance of me doing that.#but i ah. don't have a desire to keep playing.#it's a weird middle state to be in. don't wanna put down the controller. don't want to keep playing. i am just sitting here.#ive been attributing my more frequent thoughts on the matter to the whole roommate situation
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months ago
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the long drag of a cigarette. 
smoke floods his lungs, in sticky streams, glides into his throat and burns the back of it with a scorpion's sting. nicotine kissing his gums. he exhales, watches as the toxins form a cloud of gray, polluting the air — keeps the cigarette poised between his fingers as the bottom end crumbles to ash. the orange spark left by his lighter has all but faded, he can’t taste anything but slow, sweet decay. tender rot in his lungs.
suguru watches you, out of the corner of his eye.
it’s rare for him to have company, at this time of day. with such awful weather, to boot. that’s why his eyes can’t help but wander, to your figure, your vacant expression. the sight of it makes his bones twitch. you’ve been sitting there since he arrived, barely moving. you look young, scrawny, clothes too big for your body. there’s mud on your shoes and the cuffs of your jeans; their edges frayed and damaged, like you’ve been walking down concrete and puddles all day. your skin glistens with leftover dewdrops.
the air smells of rain. he likes it, despite his frizzy black locks, likes the contrast between the sting of the smoke and the life in the air, a summer soon to pass him by. he tastes it when he parts his lips and allows himself a tender inhale, earth and leaves and ripened clusters of honeydew being split into halves. when he looks down at the ground, he finds his own reflection; a silhouette in the puddle at his feet, ripples tearing his face in half. he looks weary. lilac smudges underneath his eyes, hair raised into an unkempt bun, the silver sliver of piercings on his bottom lip and helix catching the dim light of the lamp overhead. they gleam, in the humid air.
(he got them on a whim. a tattoo would be the next step, but he has no idea what design to choose.
mostly, he just wants to feel the sting.)
a choked out sound. it snaps him back into reality, plants roots and vines around his feet. suguru watches you, with eyes of burning cedar, tastes the visage of your image on his teeth and on his tongue.
for a moment, your gaze overlaps with his own. fickle eyes. you’re covering your mouth, staring at the cigarette only centimeters from their mark —
and he understands the issue. can see your eyes water from the smoke. it’s only you and him here, no one else who can complain or chew him out, just you and him outside the tiny konbini, by an alley littered with trash bags and hungry strays; cats, ravens.
you.
”… sorry,” he hums, vocal cords roughed up, lacking their usual luster. he doesn’t like the way it sounds. ”i’ll put it out.”
he crushes the cigarette under his boot. it falls on the concrete without making any noise, pliant as he makes it crumble apart, dissolve into black soot. dirty rainwater swallows what remains.
with a rustle of fabric, he digs through the plastic bag hanging off his arm — searching for a bottle of water to moisten his dry throat, uncapping the lid and relishing as it flows against tender flesh. it feels nice, to have this routine. to come here every day, and have himself a silent smoke. suguru enjoys the structure. enjoys what little semblance of control he can get, after leaving his old life behind.
(after crushing his potential under the heel of his boot. his ears still ring with gunshots at night, but the silent death has strayed its course.
buddha, he thinks, lips twitching with a withheld smile. look at what a spectacle i’ve become.)
no words from you grace his ears. you duck your head, as if scared of the sudden attention, of his voice. he belatedly regrets his lack of consideration — wishes he had twisted it into a softer shape for the fickle creature to his left. but you aren’t coughing anymore, only sitting there with your legs dangling off the edge of the bench. with those lifeless eyes, a fish about to be gutted, just as weary as his.
like you’re about to fade into slumber. fade out of existence. 
even after all these years, even without sorcery — suguru can sense death. his instincts are forever honed. what he smells on you is decay, the same as the ache in his rotting lungs. you look famished, trembling fingers finding purchase in your lap, picking at a piece of lint on your jeans.
the sight makes his heart ache. breaks it apart, like an unripened fruit, splits and tears down the middle. you look so small, so weak. so very, very vulnerable.
a moment’s hesitation. 
suguru’s hand slips back into the bag, ghosts against a styrofoam cup and pack of wakaba cigarettes, before his fingers finally settle and curl around a soft, triangular object. wrapped up in neat sheets of plastic, still slightly warm to the touch. perfect.
he gives you a glance, and finds you’re already looking at him. eyes droopy with fatigue, but moving down his fingers, almost curiously. watching him pull out the cheap onigiri and cradle it in his palm. 
ah, now you’re looking away. skittish — he tastes the word on his tongue, allows his eyes to run from the bridge of your nose to the tips of your fingers. you’re coiled in on yourself, almost as if waiting for a blow. and oh, it hurts him, even though he isn’t sure why. even though he can’t recall the last time his heart felt this wet with pity. he feeds the cats around here, sometimes, but they never look so sad. 
”are you hungry?”
the words have left his mouth long before he can regret them. and suguru is pleased, to notice his voice has peeled itself of the rasp, invited smooth, silky vowels. he sounds kind, he thinks. hopes.
but you still look uncomfortable. he must appear intimidating, to you. tall, pierced, long hair and sleepless eyes. a handsome face does no good when you don’t even have the courage to look at it properly. you shift in your seat, not meeting his eyes. 
no response.
that’s just fine. 
”here.” he takes a seat on the bench, at the very edge, careful not to come too close. you jolt, but stay, as he unfurls his palm. ”you can have it.”
cautious eyes meet his own. still just for a moment, a flicker of light when you tip your head a certain way. then it’s gone, and your eyes are just lifeless again. he’s seen it before, in mirrors. he’s all too familiar with the act of drowning on land.
”go on.”
he tries his hand at a smile. voice a low lull, coaxing you forward, still patiently holding out the onigiri. 
a growl of your stomach. it’s barely audible, but he picks up on it, watches the way you clutch at your abdomen as if to muffle the noise. ducking your head, again, a bit of colour blooming in your cheeks. 
finally, a feeble hand reaches for his own. 
so you do have it in you.
”… thank you,” comes a murmur, a little scratchy. but soft, just rusty. how polite. he watches as your shaky fingers curl around the plastic, bring it to your lap.
suguru takes notice of your body language. still skittish, your shoe tapping at the concrete as if restless, eager to get away. but you’re more relaxed than when he first spoke to you. it feels good.
feels right.
(feels like something he’d forgotten.)
”how old are you?” he asks, uncapping the lid of his water bottle, just to place it next to you. hand reaching into his pocket, to pull out his lighter, her lighter, worn with age. ”if you don’t mind me asking.”
no response. you fumble with the plastic wrapping, having difficulty getting it off. the nori tears, he can tell from the way you mouth a wince. without thinking, he’s taking it from off your hands — practiced, as he unfurls it, peels the plastic and fishes out the rice ball. while he does, you finally speak, in a voice just barely raised above a whisper. 
”… ’m in college.”
a quirk of his brow. ”… are you?”
you nod. suguru gives back the snack, watches as you take a bite, listens to the crunch of seaweed and the quiet hum you let out as you chew. softly, slowly, as if savouring the taste. he isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. you’re younger than him, that much he’s certain of. ”… sure you’re not a runaway?”
it’s half a joke, half a question. he’s smiling, but your brows furrow together, face set into tense lines.
”… i just don’t have anywhere to go, right now.” 
another bite. crunch, chew, swallow. he watches your throat bob, waits for the quiet gulp. 
”that’s all.”
”i see.” he taps his fingers against the hood of the lighter, snaps it open and shut, a gaping mousetrap. ”that’s unfortunate. and your college can’t help?”
this time, he gets no response. you must already feel uncomfortable, sharing your troubles with a stranger. he understands, but an itch still gnaws at his bones. 
trust is a fickle thing. 
suguru watches you eat, and tries to calm the rising desire in his chest. warmth spreads throughout his stomach, at the sight, creeps into his veins. a coo on the tip of his tongue that he has to swallow down. he feels no need to have anything of his own, no real desire to fill his empty stomach. he only wants to watch, watch, watch, as you feast on what he brings you. he wants to watch you eat forever. it’s a sudden thought; his stomach twists with ill-content. 
a deep, aching pit. 
sometimes, he can still feel them. wriggling around in his womb, fighting for space as they crawl up his esophagus. all the curses they had him vomit up. 
he thinks he must have lost something, back then. thrown up more than he should have. a lung, maybe. his heart, his human heart.
no running soothes the longing. it’s a losing battle, to struggle against it, to not be swallowed underwater when he keeps his eyes shut for too long and finds he no longer remembers how to suffocate the urge. when he realizes life still feels like dragging mud into whatever house will keep him. there is a burning hole inside him, something left it there, a hollow space that only ever deepens, sinks a blade into his chest. 
what could fill it? 
who could fill it? 
(you, you, you, his gut supplies.
you, and your fragile bones.)
a shiver travels down his spine. it’s gone as soon as it came, because now you’re licking the grains of rice from off your fingers, like a cat lapping at the white bones of a grilled fish. he thinks it’s cute, thinks you look perfect after a little meal. eating so well for him, out of his hand. you look less fatigued, less droopy, and suguru feels more alive than he can remember.
for a moment, ill-chosen, he pictures you in his home. seated at his kitchen table, legs dangling underneath it, your fingers guiding warm stew and freshly made bread into your waiting mouth. pictures you soaking in his bathtub, napping on the couch while the tv flickers on and off, wrapped up in blankets and resting on silken sheets, waiting for him… he plays with the idea, for a while. isn’t sure where it came from, just knows he wants it. 
and god, how long has it been since he felt desire?
”was it good?” he asks, suddenly, a smile playing at his lips, branches blooming with wisteria. ”tasty?”
a nod. he takes what he can get; dares not be greedy, when you’re already letting him so close. he wants you to trust him more than anything, right now, in this moment, more than he wants to breathe. more than he wants to ruin himself. you’re small, unsteady on your feet, all alone in the world. and you just happened to end up at the konbini he frequents.
suguru geto does not believe in fate.
he does believe in meaning. 
(the word sears a burning gap into his tongue.)
”i’m glad,” he says, the hum of a buzzing dragonfly, slipping the lighter back into his pocket. he stands up, to his full height, breathes in the humid summer air and lets it stifle his lungs. he ponders, ponders, ponders. figures he can let himself be a little selfish, after all the years he spent eating himself alive. the gift of a bleeding heart left on the counter to cool.
just this once, suguru doesn’t look to the rotting innards in his stomach for guidance — he takes. 
and the rainy day surrenders to the longing in his lungs.
”i know this is sudden, but would you like to come with me?”
his voice is silky, clusters of jasmine buds and honey, deep and warm and rumbling through his chest. you look up at him with big eyes. surprise, he wonders, or just caution? it’s good to be on edge, either way. 
just not with him. 
”i’m a social worker, of sorts,” a little white lie, just to get your guard down, just to soften the lining. ”if you have nowhere to go, you could come with me. just until you get back on your feet. of course, i don’t expect you to trust a man you just met, but…”
he eyes your clothes, your face, the decay sticking itself to your soul. 
(it seems to me like you’re out of safe choices.)
”i’d like to help you, if possible.”
suguru tilts his head. you meet his low-lidded eyes — a look of bewilderment crossing your features. eyeing him, warily, as if expecting him to pull the rug from under your feet, pull a dagger out of his coat. his bangs sway like dying ravens hung out to dry.
trust is a fickle thing. he doesn’t mind. it’ll take you some time to adjust to his presence, he’s well aware. 
”… what do you get out of it?”
your voice cuts into the air, the sharp edge of a blade. something like a hiss, but not quite; he senses the fear there, the trepidation. you’re guarded, that’s all.
it’s a good question.
company. duty. something to fill the pit in his chest.
meaning, meaning, meaning. 
”… like i said,” he exhales, wearing a smile, eyes narrowed into slits. ”i just want to help. that’s all.”
and it’s true. he does want to help. wants to water your roots, watch you flourish before him. how long has it been since he felt responsible for anything other than himself? he remembers satoru and shoko and a myriad of dying plants. he wants to keep you tucked under his wing, safe and secure, where he can make sure no more harm befalls you. the world has already run you ragged — he knows, he can tell, you’re one and the same. the world has soiled you too. he knows, he knows, but you’re safe now.
ask a dying man what he wants, and you will get only one answer. but suguru has always been greedy.
he wants to make breakfast for two, and sleep with his chest to your back. but can’t tell you that. has to coax you into it, slowly, treat you with the caution you’d use to bandage a fawn’s broken leg. he thinks you’d feel right at home, with him. his apartment is on the smaller side, but he could adjust to your needs. he has more blood money than he knows what to do with. as long as you feel welcomed.
”i don’t need anything in return.”
tobacco lingers in the air, melts into the heavy scent of wet asphalt and rain, hugs his skin. suguru watches you, watches you, watches you. from the twitch of your pinkie to the tap of your shoe against concrete to the flicker in your eyes when you realize he’s being serious, when you fall into the half-truth. 
trust is a fickle thing. it sweeps you in when your guard is down. leaves just as quickly. 
(but a human being at their lowest will always want a hand to guide them.)
”… where do you work?”
suguru eyes ripen. a smile tugs his lips into a crescent moon, a silent victory.
”i’ll tell you.” he reaches his hand out, hungry for contact, lets his open palm hang in the air. ”but first… what would you say to a warm dinner?”
he watches your pupils waver. ripples along water, a dirty puddle in the street. he can almost see his own silhouette, a looming figure, gazing down at you with piercing golden eyes. he could fit you in his pocket, he thinks. you’d feel right at home in his lap. 
ugly, ugly thoughts. the phantom curses in his stomach twist with glee, and suguru ignores their taunting. he thinks of neither god nor buddha.
(free of rot, but just as filthy.) 
a smaller hand approaches his. 
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riversenchanted · 5 months ago
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Where your mercury is placed is where you have intelligence at in your birth chart
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Mercury 1st house/ Aries: Intelligent about knowing how to express themselves/fashion geniuses. These people are typically multi talented and able to be highly skilled at anything they pursue. They are like sponges for information!
Mercury 2nd house/Taurus: Intelligent about money,investing, and material possessions. These people are likely to own their own businesses or be investors of some kind. They may have multiple streams of income. A highly abundant placement to have!
Mercury 3rd house/ Gemini: The jack of all trades! Intelligent speakers, communicators, learners, teachers. People can learn a lot just by being in their presence. Their brains move just a little bit faster than the world around them. Sometimes this placement is prone to adhd.
Mercury 4th house/ Cancer: intelligent about family, emotions, counsel, cooking, home life. These people are commonly psychic/claircognizant. They always know the right thing to say. These are the people you go to when you need advice snd support.
Mercury 5th house/ Leo: intelligent about the arts, romance, children, self expression. These people bring light into the room. They have a creative genius like no other and a magic in the way they think and operate. They have a strong creative intelligence.
Mercury 6th house/ Virgo: intelligent about analysis, health, structure, and logic. These people make excellent doctors, judges, and politicians. They have a strong memory and interest in bettering others lives and keeping things balanced and fair. They analyze things deeply and are always looking for ways to help and improve any situation they face. They’re always calculating and taking in information.
Mercury 7th house/ Libra: Intelligent about relationships, justice, counsel, influence. These people are strong communicators and have the power to influence others and bring people together. They are diplomatic and fair. Always looking for the gray area and middle ground in any situation.
Mercury 8th house/Scorpio: intelligent about solving mysteries, uncovering truth, emotional depth. These people make good investigators. This placement shows a strong desire to uncover truth and have a deeper understanding of why things are the way they are. They tend to see through peoples facades easily. These people can be psychic or empathic.
Mercury 9th house/ Sagittarius: intelligent about philosophy, religion, travel, culture. These people have a wide variety of knowledge. They are the type of people who will have random facts about everything. They will spark conversation with anyone. Always eager to learn and very tactile in the way that they learn as well.
Mercury 10th house/ Capricorn: intelligent in business, work, legacy, and reputation. These people are extremely detail oriented. They have sharp minds and don’t forget anything to easily. These placements are adaptable and flexible. Willing to face challenges head on and grow from them. May have remarkable careers and be well known for their skills in the work field.
Mercury 11th house/ Aquarius: intelligent in networking, community, problem solving, innovation, technology. These people think 10 steps ahead at all times. These are the visionary’s. Their minds always at work and looking to the future. An inventors mind. These people bring others together to solve a common issue and work efficiently with others.
Mercury 12th house/ Pisces: intelligent in creativity, psychology, intuition, spirituality. These people have rich inner worlds but may have difficulty expressing it fully. They spend a lot of time in deep contemplation and are highly observant. They have a talent for compassion and deeply understanding others. They see things from multiple points of view and therefore have the ability to problem solve from multiple angles.
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blublublujk · 2 years ago
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good girl, gone bad
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oneshot
word count: 6k
genre: established (secret) relationship
pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk
summary:
“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?
warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie
a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D
ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3
p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.
—> m.list
—> welcome me on ao3 & twt
—-
“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”
Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him. 
As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too. 
“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze. 
“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.
“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”
Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head. 
“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”
Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.
“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”
You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”
What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?
—-
“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!). 
“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”
The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier. 
Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”
He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips. 
“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.
With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”
You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.
“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”
He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”
“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”
He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red. 
It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years. 
There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there. 
You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.
At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating. 
Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love. 
Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever. 
“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will. 
Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.” 
“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was. 
“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all. 
It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable. 
“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”
Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”
He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds. 
“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”
He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”
“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.
Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.” 
“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.
“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work. 
You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).
He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.
His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”
Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”
Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.
He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth. 
What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all. 
Cigarettes and strawberries. 
Quite the pair. 
You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”
He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes. 
“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”
His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them. 
Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”
He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.
“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.
“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?” 
He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”
By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea. 
What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you. 
Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.
Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.” 
There’s no time to waste. 
“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time. 
“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him. 
His personal little cockslut. 
You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”
Double fuck.
When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.
“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”
“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.
Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”
You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.
“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.” 
You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways. 
“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”
You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock  answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world. 
And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking. 
Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.” 
He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”
Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request. 
“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.” 
You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going. 
Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.
“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”
Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”
He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste. 
Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”
He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.” 
He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.” 
Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around. 
“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now. 
His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal. 
You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this. 
“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.
His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole. 
“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!
“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are. 
“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!  
“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds. 
Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.
He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student. 
“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”
The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!
Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better). 
“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says. 
“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face. 
Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology. 
“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment. 
“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better. 
Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”
Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”
He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”
There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”
He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”
“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”
The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.” 
His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips. 
Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat. 
“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.” 
Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you. 
“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response. 
“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face. 
“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words. 
You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.
He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you. 
“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”
He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you. 
Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.
“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”
Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.” 
He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive! 
“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb. 
“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his. 
“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.” 
You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot. 
The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart. 
He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.” 
“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”
“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in. 
His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines. 
The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.
“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”
“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?” 
“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”
Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. 
The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give. 
Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him. 
“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out. 
With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.” 
“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made. 
“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside. 
“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done. 
“Yes, all yours.” 
You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.” 
“I love you more.” 
“Impossible baby.”
—-
JK❤️: hiiii 🙂
me: hi baby :) everything okay?
JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))
me: baby! 😠  i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out
JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))
me: nice talk jungkook.
JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((
me: love you too lol
JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!
me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️
JK❤️: 😠😠😠 
me: ❤️❤️❤️
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artechoceneexplorer · 2 months ago
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Dungeon Meshi Encyclopaedia: The Red Dragon
Another creature added to the dungeon meshi encyclopaedia!! Feared by every soul that enters the dungeon, this crimson titan can take down every creature that crosses its path: the Red Dragon (Ignidraco puniceus).
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Full piece view
Close-ups and notes on the design choices:
The scientific name, like the last creature I drew, is pretty simple, as for the genus name is just a combination of fire (Igni-) and dragon (-draco); and the species name is a reference to its color, as "puniceus" refers to a bright red color (I also considered "sanguineus" for its blood red color).
This time for the external appearance of parts of the anatomy like osteoderm plates and general head morphology I stuck really close to the original design (although the body and specially head proportions are WILDLY inconsistent between manga and anime, and between parts of the same manga or anime sequence) so I tried to mix them all into a shape I ended up liking quite a lot. I based the "beak" and upper jaw texture on crocodilians and birds, and used ungulate horns as a reference for the keratin cover and the bony core shown in the skull illustration.
One detail I added that I felt was quite necessary are the black, iron covered osteoderms covering the tongue and inside of the mouth, that are used to create sparks and protect the mouth tissues from the heat. These are not present in the original design, the tongue and mouth are pink and smooth, but it probably wouldn't be able to create sparks by doing the tonguing motion without some sort of hard structure to smash together.
The inverse scale was one thing I initially wasn't sure how I was going to explain, until I started designing the mechanism of the gas fuel production in the stomach, and created this symmetrical gular sacs to hold the fuel before ignition, and thought that maybe the development of those sacs could've pushed the aorta artery to pass through the middle of the neck, right below that scaleless spot. This would definitely be a very vulnerable spot and cause the results we see in the series if that point is stabbed, with blood gushing out at high pressures and causing the dragon to rapidly bleed out.
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Close-up of the head, fire breath and neck internal structure
My favourite part of the design process for this one was making the fuel mechanism. I love that the indigestible materials, similarly to birds like owls, are accumulated in the anterior chamber of the stomach and used to create fuel (this part is exclusive to dragons owls unfortunately don't produce fire from their pellets). Because the way they ignite the fuel is ambiguous, and it would be hard for the dragon to straight up ignite a stream of wet hair and bones, I opted for giving it a symbiotic relationship with microbes, hydrogen producing ones to be exact (which do exist btw). These microbes could adapt to the acidic environment of the stomach chambers, not competing with other microbes, which would allow them to produce more hydrogen. Which if you don't know, it's not only light, but extremely flammable. I would imagine at first the gular gas chambers evolved, and then the separate had tubes evolved for a more effective transport of the gas towards the sacs.
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Close-up of the proventriculus, interior of the "dragon pellet" and front legs
For the second cutout I chose the "stomach" they mention in the series, which is technically not the whole stomach but a chamber of it, the gizzard, which is also found in birds and non-avian dinosaurs. I would imagine not all indigestible materials can be dissolved by the stomach acid, or digested by microbes to create fuel, but I feel like the dragon can use those as gizzard stones, to grind up the food it probably swallows whole (given that the "dragon pellet" had bones, hair and human tools). The heat and constant grinding would eventually smooth the material into round-ish objects that would eventually be passed through after being too worn down.
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Close-up of the gizzard and lungs of the dragon
The skin was another part I had to speculate a little, and sort of used the ol' reliable, iron mineralised tissue, but not quite. I imagine it probably incorporates iron oxides into the keratin (maybe that's why it's red??), but below it, above the osteoderm, there is a layer of not only iron mineralised tissue, but also mixed with other more durable metals (maybe adamant?) to make it more resistant to physical and magical attacks.
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Close-up of the tail and a tissue cutout of the skin showing all layers up to the dermis
The best way to fill an empty space where I don't know what to put in these pieces, babies! In this case, a baby dragon inside of a very spherical egg, similar to the ones other giant reptiles laid, such as sauropods. I would also imagine female dragons demineralise some of the iron in their tissues to reinforce the egg, making it less susceptible to braking. Also like most reptiles (including extinct ones like sauropods) it has an egg tooth that falls off after hatching.
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Close-up of the back spines and a dragon egg, showing a developing embryo inside
Lastly, I had to include something about their social behaviour, so I included a drawing that is very similar to a sketch made by Ryoko Kui herself, showing the different intraspecific social behaviour of different dragon types, with red dragons being described as "persistent" and that "the weaker one will be forced to leave first". So I imagine they fight similarly to komodo dragons (since they're also shown to be able to stand on two legs for short periods of time). They probably also don't fight a lot, prefering to show off and intimidating the rival without wasting their precious fire, but using their other weapon arsenal to fight the other if they have to.
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Close-up of a couple of female dragons fighting
Anyways this was all, I spent a LONG time on this one as you can see so I hope you enjoy it, the living armor is next!! :>
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chlmtsdoll · 10 months ago
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hear me out….artashi x reader based on any song from short n sweet 🤭
YESSS OMG I was already planning a fic on this 🤭 you get it !
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HOLD ME AND EXPLORE ME
18 + | smut ! threesome, p in v (unprotected sex), age gap sugar!baby reader, older Art & Tashi, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl, what did you expect?) kinda kinky (praise, bondage-ish) inspo from Juno bc yes ! I am short n sweet and yes ! I am so fucking horny 🩵
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With the loads of studying and catching up on your sleep you had on your schedule being at the forefront of your week — you really should have been back home tucked away in your apartment, trying not to lose yourself to the anxiety of internships you had lined up by the clock.
No hanging out with friends, parties, or boys wasting your sweet time was enough to throw you of your high achieving attitude. With your kind nature and smaller figure, you were always shoved off as an easy pass kind of girl. But that couldn’t of been farther from the truth — you just had high standards for yourself. With a devotion to your status and a deep love for your own life and future, not one of your girlfriends would of believed that instead of disregarding another study session or wine meet up, you’d been on a plane heading across the country to visit Art and Tashi.
The only ones that could put a dent in your structured little bubble. The only two who could make a girl like you go crawling on her knees at the sound of a text sent.
The wealthy couple had you wrapped around their finger at the word and it had been the one guilty pleasure you weren’t afraid to admit — you got shit done. No matter what. So when it had been the husband and wife paying for your tuition and for you to look impeccable on any resume, meeting or simply just walking into a store to buy a new dress — of course you’d been there whenever they needed.
They’d dropped however much in an instant to have you flying out to see them right then, and you couldn’t say you weren’t deserving of a little fun after you wiped the floor with every girl in your fashion marketing courses.
You had curlers in the night before just to have your locks all full and bouncy for the couple when your arrival came. Well rested and ready for the little spark of enjoyment you had paused your lifestyle back at home for, just anything for the man and woman who treated you like their own always. You really did miss the smell of Tashi’s butter like skin, and the sight of Arts sculptured body on you like paradise. You were pushing your thighs together just at the mere thought of it in your seat — not even giving way to the public around you as your eyes were closed in bliss and you hummed to the music streaming throughout your ears.
Can’t help myself, hormones are high, give me more than just some butterflies
You were landing in New Rochelle when you could finally get a signal for your cell at last, and when the ding of your phone went off you nearly knocked all of your essentials from your lap to pick up your phone in a scurry to which you were revealed a message from Tashi.
Tashi
Hey baby, you should be landing soon.
Sending Art to pick you up from the airport.
Your little rose tinted cheeks we’re heating up just at the sight of the text as you bit your finger like a love-sick school girl and you replied to Tashi with a single ‘💗’. It was then that you were first to be off the flight after gathering your things — headphones still in tacked in your ears. It was funny to see college girls your age running to grab their luggage to haul a taxi when you knew you could take your sweet time embarking the baggage claim since you knew Art would have just gotten vip parking to come meet you with your bags. When you reached the lane you’d been given, you were waiting for your suit case to show when there was no way it could of gone unnoticed. Ever. You could of bet money that you’d been the only person there with shimmery pink luggage that had your name scribbled in sweet cursive letters on the name tag and a couple pearl key chains with your initials big enough for the whole airport to be unintentionally introduced.
When your bags did finally show up, you were reaching to grab hold of them before a pair of strong, yet pretty hands came clutching them for you instead..
“You aren’t a little afraid someone will try and mug you with those in?” Art chuckled as he peered at you with his expression prettier than ever before setting down your bags with a grin on his face, just showing his gorgeous teeth a tad and you had pulled out your ear bud as your face immediately lit up — with a small squeal you stood to your toes to wrap your arms around the tall man’s neck and he hugged you with a full laughter as your legs semi-danged from the ground. And although most of the crowd of people walking around the airport could of mistaken the two of you for being the ‘dad picks his daughter up from college’ kind of meeting, you had learned things like that wouldn’t get to your head since this was something you choose anyways.
“You found me so quick!” Your excitement bubbled from within as the blonde wrap himself into you and he pulled away, eager to look into your eyes that were astonishingly out of this world to him — he just wanted to see you. Take you in, all with a tenderness to his touch as he held your face in his hands along with a simper.
“Yeah. Wasn’t too bad though I’ll admit.. it isn’t very hard to miss you, baby girl.” Arts eyes flicked over to your luggage that was just shimmering and screamed over the top but sweet twenty something year old girl.
You giggled , “I like to travel in style.” Art took your hand up to his lips as he kissed the palm of it in adoration of your bubbly attitude and helped you walk your bags to the Mercedes parked outside just nearby. You immediately attached yourself to Arts arm and your wide eyes started up at him with complete butterflies to the feeling of him finally being right beside you again — and Art has to keep his composure not to blush to hard at the sight of your pretty face and adorable figure fawning at him right then.
When you eventually made it to the Donaldson estate, you briefly freshened up in the guest bathroom, the air of the space filled up with your cinnamon and sweet sugary scents and you’d been sure you were as smooth as a baby from head to toe by the time the steam lifted from the mirror.
Not too long after your shower, there was a soft knock on the door before it opened gently with the single sight of Tashi in all her grace as she entered the room with a small cheeky smile complimenting her instinctively glowing face when she saw you. Turning from the mirror to face her, your teeth sunk into your teeth almost immediately as she hadn’t just brought herself, but attire in her hands as well.
“Sweet girl, I want you to try this on for us… it’s new. Got it just for you.” The woman came up to you and pecked your cheek before propping what turned out to be lingerie in your hands. The baby blue hue was rich, and the softest cotton like taken straight from a cloud. Ruffles edging the hem of the bra part of it and around the panties. Your lips parted as you let out a small “oh..” and your face had become warm with a kind of lust for your own fit in the piece. Tashi watched you, her honey like eyes examined the way you examined it and the corners of her mouth were partially upturned in a fine smirk before she left you to it.
And when the soft garter belt had been what you slipped up your thigh lastly before you were fit in the bits that made you feel not only sexy, but feverishly sweet as well.
You’d exited from the room to find Art and Tashi waiting in the bedroom — eyes had been automatically fixed on your perfect shape in the periwinkle shade. Their dry mouths couldn’t had caught the words quick enough before you were shyly shifting your weight on your feet, you showcased yourself for the couple with a cloying little smile on your lips just by their reactions.
“So ? What do we think ?” Your hands placed gently on your hips only moved so you could turn for the two and Tashi’s eyes ran up and down your body in a buttery sense as she chuckled to herself in profile, she adjusted how she’d been sitting on the bed so she was now on her knees - of course - not wanting to give away her obvious simmering ache for you too quickly.
Art was another story. With the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips tenderly, he couldn’t take his soft blues off of you “fuck, baby,” the blonde muttered out and you only grinned wider as you inches closer to where the man sat on the bed.
Legs being spread just enough for you to take a nice little place between them. Only five foot, you stood gracefully ahead of the man with a soft giggle leaving your lips. He followed your face even as your hands rose to brace his shoulders and his eyes locked up on you — like he’d been ready to get the perfect little lace set off of you with his teeth.
“That certainly means you like it.” You spoke like the most harmonious honey. And Arts hands had already been gliding up your flush thighs to place his groping hands on your hips. “You wanna touch me, huh ?” You knew you were playing with fire. Making your push to Art with Tashi right there and not even on to to what was going to happen next just yet. But you just couldn’t help yourself — you’d been so titillated to feel them on you. And by the looks of it, to get Arts pants off as fast as possible now. And just when he had been looking at you like this. The blonde pressed his lips to the middle of your abdomen and you sunk your teeth into your lip in giddiness already as you smiled.
“Everything about you is godlike- - mmm, we missed you so much baby.” Art’s voice had been muffled into your skin. He kissed you up and his fingers dug into the plush of your ass. Your fingertips grazed over his broad arms that were rough at the first touch but got softer as you trailed farther down.
“Not so fast..” Tashi’s voice was silken as she placed her own hand on your hip from your side. Her lean, tall body hovering over you swiftly and she held up another gesture. This time, handcuffs.
Pink and traced with fur. Your eyes go wide for a moment as they stare back at you practically — and then your eyes are on the woman again with risqué written across her face liked she’d been waiting for the right moment to spring in on you so smoothly. She pulled you off of Art with a grin. When she walked you to the side of the bed, “Ooh!” You exclaimed as you fell chest first to the mattress and Tashi was pulling your gentle writs behind your back. The naughtiest smile on your face immediately as she toyed with you, unable to remove your curls falling into your face now.
“God, she looks so pretty like that” Art groaned as he faced the scene of you and Tashi.
“Were gonna take care of her sweet cunt, isn’t that right?” the woman narrowed at her husband with airiness to her words as she flipped you on your back. And just at those words you had already felt yourself soaking your panties — and with the light blue color — it was noticeable to the eyes almost instantly, Tashi let out a chuckle. “Princess we haven’t even touched you yet.. you just want it so bad, hm? Little minx.”
Art got closer to the two of you, and his presence only made you more worked up with the way Tashi took your ankles by force, apart as your legs were on display for her view. Your already soft whines echoed throughout the room just to be touched. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“She’s been workin’ so hard back at home, little thing is touch starved, Tashi.”
“I’m just giving you a little show.” You batted your lashes innocently at the blonde and he could feel his cock grow hard right then. You were pleased by the way just your voice alone could get him yearning to fuck your brains out so quickly. It was just easy to get Art between your legs — with how painfully cute you had been to him, and Tashi’s word it was like child’s play.
“Your both gonna be me a little show.” Tashi commanded after your remark towards Art, and she took her place on the bed like it was nothing — in her satin slip with a sly smile on her face, she ran her fingertips over your dainty bottoms as she coo’d to the way you squirmed at your touch. “Art’s gonna eat this pretty pussy, he’ll surely make the ache go away.” Tashi shook out her tossed curls and caressed your face calmly as Art had already lowered himself to your hips and you whimpered softly with want at the way the blonde maneuvered your legs so they’d been over his shoulder. Your dear pink polished toes hanging off his back with ease, you watched his eyes pierce your own. He graced his lips over your soaked clothed cunt. Taking in your sent just before even removing the piece of clothing to devour you.
“Fuck, fuck, please..” You whine out, he looked too gorgeous between your legs. Perfect nose brushing over your clit briefly before he hooked a finger over your panties, pulling them to the side and when his tongue came to contact with your folds — you trembled with it.
Moans escaped your lips and your restrained hands had become an enemy as you couldn’t even touch the man below you. He licked and fucked into your core with quick but careful movements, making paintings with his tongue as you writhed on your back and his own groans vibrated throughout your body. Art squeezed from your ass up to your thighs, soft as vanilla frosting, to keep you still.
Tashi had been elegantly laid back against the pillows. She observed, her own hand trailing to meet her own cunt just at the way your angelic moans and whimpers made her feel. Like she was giving her husband the truest and sweetest treat right then. Nothing could touch the feeling of watching his jaw, sharp and pretty as a knife, dive right into your tight little hole. Dragging his mouth up and down as she ate you with hunger and your screams were like a melody.
“I wanna cum!” You squealed as your toes curled and Art watched you, deeply feeding off of the way your reactions lead the flicker of his tongue to your sweet folds.
“Be good and hold it, and you’ll get fucked in whatever position you want..” Tashi echoed back to you as she watched you fight off your orgasm. Art let his fingers trail your pulsing pussy for a moment. Like straight candy to him, he licked his slick covered lips.
“You’re always good, baby doll, aren’t you? You sure taste like it.” Art chuckled lowly as he caressed your shaking figure and leaned up from his knees, eyes not missing you for a second, even as he undid his belt buckle right there in front of you. It made butterflies spread throughout your body with his careful fawning eyes taking you up in all the ways he could have you. “I wanna feel you around me, like Tashi said… your pick.”
You would of reached out and grabbed him by the hips then, watching him remove his boxers painfully slow and the way his cock sprang out was painful as you just wanted dick in you so bad. It just has been too long.
Whining at the handcuffs keeping you from him, you turn your head to glance at his wife who’s been all too amused by your writhing. “I wanna touch him, please.”
The woman crawled over to your small figure and inclined so she was face to face with you, leaving a savory kiss on your lips, you moaned into it. And before you knew it your wrists had been free from the restraints. A smile spread across your mouth as you reached up brace her incandescent seem, deepening the kiss you both sat up as saliva has been shared between you, Tashi pulled away unannounced and eyed her husband with a grin.
“He’s all yours.”
You giggled openly before you took it upon yourself, to lay on to your side with your now free restraint — eyes meeting the other tennis player as his glorious chest had been exposed and smirk came back playfully as he climbed in bed next to you. Art’s hands go straight to your sides, he not only held you close, but explored every part of your skin with some close kisses to your neck and you breathed out in a soft moan. That made your hands reach straight for his short locks, you closed you eyes in pleasure just before whispering, “Take me just like this. I need you, Art..” your long sigh that turned into moans afterwards was all he needed before his hips were aligning with your ass as he kept your back flush to his chest, lips directly embarked your shoulder to pepper his kisses of adoration.
Arts hand went to lift up your thigh, and you sucked in your breath as you felt the tip of his cock rub against your slippery entrance. “You’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard, pretty girl. I know it.” Art huffed out as a murmur into your skin and it made you titter gently at the tickle of his face that had now grown a stubble just in his short off season. And as he took his time to feel the out the luxury of your cunt already drooling over his pre-gushing slit, Tashi crawled to be aside where you both lay, propping herself up on her palm to watch your eyebrows knit and lips go curved with how her husband teased you needy little body.
“Be gracious baby, Art missed his little play thing so much while you were away. Take all of him, okay?” Her voice was laced with sex as she caressed your cheek and observed her husband stretching your cunt wide with the push of his dick into you slow but effectively making your jaw fall agape and you let out a crisps cry-like moan as Art held your hips in place.
“Ooh- - fuck.. yeah,” you cursed as you reached to grip the pillows surrounding you quick. Art watched the way you slid right down his member and thrusting up into you from the side was so easy at this angel, he groaned with the way your pussy clenched him and his nails dig into the skin of your curves. You’d been a stuttering and moaning mess as he started to fuck into you at a faster pace. So soft from the inside, not only was he going dizzy by the way you looked —pure in the ruffle of your lingerie all while whimpering on his dick for more.
“Fuck, you let us do the dirtiest things to you, princess. So much of a naughty, dirty girl- - you can’t help wanting to act like a little whore. Shit.” the blonde grunted as he rutted into you. Surely your ass would be red by the time he was done with you — and by the noises coming between the two of you vile and pornographic, Tashi reached to stroke and fondle with your breast in contrast, as she got off just on watching you get fucked like a pathetic slut by her husband. Taking it so saccharine like she asked.
You feel your cunt throbbing the more Art pounded into you. Your mouth was unable to stay shut to keep in your loud moans, you reached for the blonde as your nails ran down the skin of his shoulder blade and you locked eyes with the beautiful man who even was towering your petite figure from this angle, “yes- - yes, mmh ! Fucking cum inside me. Give it to me, baby…” your voice breathy and high pitched. It made the man absolutely loose it.
You felt his dick twitch inside your cunt as he held your ribcage to fuck up into you before coating your walls at once. He pumped his load into your pussy. Marking his territory inside you with a deep groan, you released your head into him as you cried out till ropes of his cum filled you to the brim. “Good girl, baby.” Tashi ran a hand down your puffy hole as she rubbed at your clit before Art could even pull out of you. Fast and without mercy she worked on you straight into cumming on her husbands cock with a long whimper as you shook uncontrollably.
“Mmm, fuck !” You screamed out as fireworks escalated throughout. Your heat along with the rest of your body an absolute mess — and your dainty lingerie had been covered in the little masterpiece you and Art made. When Tashi pulled him out of you — the two of you moan in unison as more cum just gushed from your entrance.
“Fuck, I’m falling in love with your tight little body. You’re just perfect, angel.” Art panted out as she kissed you all over again and once you finally caught your breath a little bit of tender laughter was released from you. And Tashi as rare as it was, couldn’t help but smile at the way you brought her husband and her own frolicsomeness to light with how much they missed and needed your youthfulness. Not only your touch, they could have it forever. You for life even. “We fucking adore you.”
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wigglermansblog · 2 months ago
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REFORGED
[ Transformers x Marine! Reader ]
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A/n : This is more of a crossover between two shows I like. Transformer x One Piece. This will be a review chapter and if the story gets a lot of attention , I'll keep it coming. For the Transformers, I don't choose any continuity and build up my own universe.
Also, sorry for not being active. I've been busy with work for the past months.
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P R O L O G U E
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"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I have to do this— please, forgive me!"
The man beneath you wailed, his hands trembling—slick with your blood. The kitchen knife is buried deep in your heart.
He stumbled backward, collapsing onto the floor, his sobs loud and broken. Tears streamed down his face like a waterfall, his body wracked with guilt. You’d seen that look before—the hollow, haunted eyes of someone who had been forced to commit an unforgivable act. Someone who had been cornered, crushed under the weight of desperation.
"It's... okay..." you rasped, copper flooding your mouth with each word. "It's not your fault. Please... don't blame yourself..."
Your voice was weak, your breath shallow. You smiled through the pain, your lips trembling. His breath hitched, eyes wide with disbelief as he clutched his chest.
"Take care... of yourself… and your family..."
Your body lurched forward and crumpled to the cold floor, the metal of the blade clinking softly as it slid free. A pool of blood expanded beneath you, warm and spreading.
The man’s cries were the last sound you heard—raw, anguished, broken.
And then—
.
.
.
.
You expected darkness. An end. The peaceful embrace of the Sanzu River, where perhaps your family waited on the other side with open arms.
Instead, you felt cold.
A biting, unnatural chill.
And the low hum of something mechanical.
.
.
.
Your eyes snapped open.
Cold metal surrounded you. Panels of glowing glyphs pulsed in hues you couldn’t name. You were enclosed in a pod, dimly lit from within by an eerie blue light. It hissed loudly, and with a mechanical clunk, the hatch released.
HSSSSSH—
The pod’s door split open. You stumbled forward and crashed to the ground with a heavy clank. Disoriented, you looked down at your hands—except they weren’t hands.
They were metallic. Sleek and angular, with glowing lines of energon coursing beneath the plating.
Your fingers moved, jointed and smooth like a machine. You gasped, the sound rattling through a new, unfamiliar throat. You scrambled back in shock, metal scraping against metal.
"What in the—"
Your voice sounded distorted. Echoed. Then suddenly, your vision was flooded with glowing symbols.
[ Welcome Online : XXXX ]
[ Body Status : Stable ]
[ Energon Levels : Medium ]
[ Alt-Mode : None ]
The glyphs flickered, then disappear. You blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what just happened. The text was alien—but somehow, you understood it. Like the knowledge had been placed into your mind without permission.
You turned your arms over, inspecting them. Your limbs were metallic, the plating smooth and sharp-edged. Your movements were shaky, like a newborn deer testing its legs.
What happened to you?
What happened to your human body? Why were you metal? What are you?
You barely had time to think when—
BOOM!
The entire structure shuddered from an explosion above. Dust and sparks rained down. You tried to stand, only to collapse again. Your legs weren’t used to supporting this frame. The second explosion shook the floor beneath you.
BOOM!!! CRASH!!!
This one was closer. A portion of the ceiling gave way, a massive chunk of debris crashing down only a few meters away. Instinct took over. You scrambled to a nearby pipeline running along the wall and used it for support. Your metal fingers gripped tightly as you hauled yourself upright.
You staggered forward, each step heavy, your balance unsteady. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t afford to.
Up ahead, a stairwell.
You took the stairs slowly, gripping the rail. Metal creaked beneath your weight with every step. When you finally reached the top, you shoved open the door—
And the sight that greeted you took your breath away.
A night sky, vast and star-strewn—but not peaceful. The city was in ruins. Towers burned in the distance, their skeletal remains glowing with molten steel. The air smelled of smoke, ash, and scorched metal. The ground trembled with distant impacts.
Then—something zipped overhead.
You looked up. Two sleek aircraft zip across the sky. Its engine roars very loudly like an enraged beast and they weren’t like anything from your world. They twisted mid-flight, their bodies shifting, contorting—
—Transforming.
With grinding, mechanical grace, both aircraft morphed into towering humanoid machines. One was bulky and bristled with armor. The other, leaner and faster. Sparks flew as they collided mid-air, exchanging blows with thunderous force.
Your eyes widened.
Robots.
Living, sentient robots.
Another explosion rocked the ground near you, snapping you from your shock. You dove behind a fallen pillar as debris rained down, one hand shielding your head.
The battle raged around you, echoing in your ears like a storm. Lasers streaked across the sky. Missiles detonated in midair. Metal clashed on metal in a brutal ballet of destruction.
You gritted your teeth and pulled yourself up, limbs shaking.
This… this was a battlefield.
Not unlike Marineford.
Except you were no longer a human Marine.
You were something else now. Something forged in metal.
But your heart—whatever it had become—still beat with purpose. You had no allies for now. You have no idea who was fighting who. But one thing was certain. Firstly....
You have to get out of here.
.
.
.
[ End of Prologue ]
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revelboo · 4 months ago
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Finally managed to catch up with Everything is alright and damn, it sure is one hell of a ride! Poor reader really can't catch a breath Also, as someone who struggle with reading fics bc english isn't my first language and it ask way more focus, I really love your way of writing, makes it way easier to follow! I read a lot of your others texts to and I really love your writing, thank you so much for all of this!
Thank you! I tend to write in a stream of conscious style rather than proper sentence structures- basically I write how my brain thinks. Aside from tense and that physical descriptions and details aren’t really more than broad strokes, this is how I normally write.
Thank y’all for all the Valentine’s Day messages, I got a bit overwhelmed with them 🤣
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Everything Is Alright Pt 133
IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader
• You’d fallen asleep tangled in him at some point since he wasn’t willing to release your connection with his spark just yet. The fact that you trust him enough to rest in his arms while you’re so vulnerable aching sweetly in his spark. Monitoring you, sifting through your light and warmth again and again. Hunting. Until he finds what he’s looking for. So much tinier than Starscream’s new spark had been when he’d discovered it, just a pinpoint of light nestled within you. Remembers the frantic way you’d evaded him when he’d tried to fully bond you the first time, not even knowing you were sparked at the time, but still instinctively trying to protect Starscream’s new spark. Crooning shakily, he tucks you more firmly against his frame as he wraps himself more firmly around your light.
• Letting himself back into his habsuite, Megatron scowls. “You know I meant for you to talk it out, not frag in my berth,” he mutters, watching Soundwave shift slightly, tucking you more under him as you make a sleepy sound. That protective gesture making his spark ache as he pointedly doesn’t react and sits on the berth near the two of you. Venting when he realizes you’re sleeping, arms tucked against yourself as Soundwave’s grip tightens. “Did you spark our little mate?” Still feels so strange to call you his. To make that claim on a human. Never would have imagined he’d be in a situation like this. Wants to despise you for what you’d done to him even if it had been an accident, but can’t even manage that. He’d reached out to you, tried to save you.
• Our. Cupping the back of your head when you bury your face against his neck, he has to remind himself that he trusts Megatron. Always has. Had hung all his hopes for a better future on the shoulders of that angry gladiator. Sacrificed so much to follow him. But this is different. Has the overwhelming urge to tuck you inside his cassette compartment and just keep you there. Safe under his protection. “Yes,” he makes himself say. Doesn’t want to share you with Starscream or Megatron, not while you’re sparked with his young.
• “You’re not going to apologize for dragging me into this mess, are you, old friend?” Something about the way Soundwave is holding you is so intimate it makes his spark ache. What would he be like if you were sparked with his young? Would he allow either of the other two anywhere near you? “I’m not going to play carrier for your sparkling, too,” he adds, feeling so tired. And he doesn’t even know if you only passed the spark to him because you were in distress and scared for your sparkling, or if that’s going to happen every time. Has no idea what to expect since you’re organic.
• Rubbing his chin against the top of your head, Soundwave croons to you. Feeling guilty since he’d been pushing you and Megatron together, trying to bind you together for your safety. Still playing the long game, positioning pieces how he wants them. Manipulating. He’s always done what was necessary, but now he’s no longer sure if he’s doing what’s best for the cause, for his people, or just what he wants. A family. A different future. “Angry?” He asks, trying to ignore that faint whisper of unease at being so small. Aware of the warlord watching him, expression calculating before his optics narrow, shaking his head.
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finniestoncrane · 2 months ago
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CC!Doctor Phosphorus x GN!Reader, word count: 580 i mean this was inevitable, eventually i was going to write something for him... anyway please forgive me for my sins but i want that man to be doing his best to control himself and his 'powers' only for his partner to demand that he let loose and burn them just a leetl tiny bit for funsies 💀 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: scars, marking, burning, sex with reader on top
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You could tell his mind wasn't completely there. He was focused on you, yes, but there was something else occupying a large amount of his concentration, and you suspected you knew what it was. So you stopped mid roll, your hips grinding to a halt so suddenly that it caused his fingers to tighten against your sides, eyes drawn up from your chest to your face as he looked for signs of discontent.
"Are you ok?"
There was genuine concern in his voice, and you could almost make out an expression of panic on the glowing light and dark black bone structure that constituted his face. You moved your hand to place it against his cheek bone, but held it back, worried that would only make things worse.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
His hand flourished and displayed the sight of you on top of him, a smile creeping over your lips as you took the compliment. But it quickly dissipated as you attempt to dig a little deeper.
"Seriously though, are you ok? You seem kind of... distant? Or maybe preoccupied? And if you're not into this, we can stop, I won't be offend-"
"No, no, no. Let's... let's not be hasty here. Definitely into this, definitely. I just. It takes a little bit of concentration to keep myself safe for you."
"Safe?"
"Yeah. I mean, one slip of the mind and I might literally be impaling you with this thing. I don't literally want you to melt over me, y'know?"
"Oh."
It was a harrowing thought, and one you hadn't really considered before. But below this new found fear of dying in the middle of sex, there was an undercurrent of excitement at the danger.
"Well... What about if you were only trying to concentrate on not killing me, but you didn't have to worry about just hurting me. Just a little bit."
If he had eyebrows, he would have been raising them out of curious excitement.
"I suppose that would free up a bit more of my attention to lavish you with. But it'll hurt. It'll leave a mark, maybe a scar. You ok with that?"
You bit down on your lip, trying, and failing, to conceal the giddy giggle that escaped regardless of your attempts. He joined in, a deep, almost guttural chuckle that scratched at his throat as it came out.
"Wow, you're a lot more... Uh, what's the word?"
"Dangerous? Careless? Weird? Filthy? Insane?"
"Kinky! That's it, you're a lot kinkier than I anticipated. Although any of those others work too."
You dove into him, nose against the cavity of where his was, kissing at the warm, flaming texture of his body as he picked up his pace, bucking his hips upwards and into you, the heated length of his glowing cock no doubt shining through your skin from inside of you, comical to look at probably, but it felt too good to even think about that.
And then you hissed, chewing your bottom lip once more as you suppressed the groan of pain and pleasure, your skin sizzling as he let his fingers burn you. It was barely a percentage of what he could do if he tried, if he wasn't so focused on not having you burst into flames on top of him. But it was enough to singe you, to spark something in your blood stream that had your hips rolling against him, trying to fight back the urge to beg for more.
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slowd1ving · 11 months ago
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Hello, I love your work, can you write a Dg x boyfriend! Reader who is like Osaragi from Sakamoto days please, take care of yourself, you are great
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FAR FROM ANY ROAD ゜・DG
"And strange hands halted me, the looming shadows danced; I fell down to the thorny brush and felt the trembling hands." And after the numbing day concludes, after the rain swallows all your sorrows, where else do you return if not home? honestly anon when I got this request I was fully wondering whether you meant the full deal of osagiri and was going to write actual assassin reader... then I re read the request. anyways hope you enjoy this short fic because once more I was at a loss whether to write actual headcanons or a scenario.. pairing: diego kang x male reader warnings: canon typical violence, blood, sort of hurt/comfort? not comedic sorry :'( wc: 1.4k
LOOKISM MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION
Tonight, the rivulets of rain streaming down your body feel particularly heavy. Those drops chase the blood that stains your skin and seeps into your clothes: petrichor battling against the acrid, metallic reek; purification against the concentrated sanguine of your sins and the sins of these assailants. 
In this abandoned construction site, you feel much like these unfinished buildings. A crude facade with crumbling foundations. Of course, the unconscious bodies of these Workers resemble those decrepit structures far more—alas, you’re not referencing their physical state, but rather the slightly-numbed, slightly-exhausted mental state you’re in. 
The bruises and scrapes littering your skin might make any lesser man hiss at his incompetence in guarding his temple, but to you, you absently trace the wounds with curious fascination. One last moment of entertainment, before your fun and games abruptly end. 
“How unpleasant,” you finally utter—the bleak words are washed away by the rain, to be heard by nobody but yourself. It’s always a thrill to perform your Sacred Duty; that is, teaching these wrong-doers a salient lesson that is beaten into their very bones. Your transgressions are only to correct their own sins, not bound to any particular affiliation but yourself. 
Against your injuries, your gelid fingers don’t spark the same warmth he does. It is at this particular moment that the joy completely evaporates, it is at this moment where all you want is to take off the crushing black veil and retreat back home. 
Home. You’ll be late as usual—limping back to the dimly-lit apartment with carmine kissing your knuckles and a frown on your face. 
These hours, where the clouds swirl a rich black, and only the street lamps pity your lonely journey home, no longer feel so welcome. So it's despondently that you start the meander back to the city. 
゜・
It’s early summer when you transfer to his class—almost comically late in the year, James Lee notes. Right on the cusp of the holidays, you stand before your peers with caustically empty eyes and a careful blankness on your face. How dull, he dismisses before crunching down on his candy: an obnoxious gesture that swivels your pupils in his direction. But not much else changes in your face—it seems you’ll be just as boring as his classmates, if not slightly more weird.
Though, as you slip into your seat with almost serpentine grace, as you click your mechanical pencil in such a way he briefly wonders whether you know you’re wielding a writing utensil and not a weapon, as your loping gait starts appearing in the edges of his vision wherever he is—this is where his eyes start following your motions curiously.
These endeavours prove fruitless; you’re a model student, if not subpar to his own vast academic success. There’s nothing noteworthy about your clipped speech, nor about your penchant to eat heaping bowls of food in one serving on the rooftops. Maybe there is that feeling he gets—that you seem to be holding yourself back during sports and other activities—but he’s come to his own conclusion. Boring. And just like that, his interest wanes once more.
It’s in the holidays that he sees you once more. This time, you’re out of uniform and in such peculiar garb he half-believes you’re an apparition: clad in rich black with a veil thrown over your head.  Or at least, he would believe you were a ghost were it not for the heaps of unconscious gang members strewn around you, and the vibrant red staining your fists and face. And when he laughs, when your head finally turns to gaze at the boy at the abandoned parking lot—you look as nonplussed as ever, and that is perhaps the most interesting thing about this ill-fated encounter.
Even with the lacerations cutting deep, you barely wince. Even as he finds you, again and again and again as you’re guts deep in beating these ‘sinners’ up, you barely spare him any greetings as he watches on amusedly. Even as he’s taken to cheering you on from the sidelines, you ignore him just like he did you—though, it’s more matter-of-fact than malicious, like it would be unprofessional to acknowledge him. 
It seems James Lee has found himself a new form of entertainment: all wrapped up neatly in a parcel of a boy with weirdly haunting eyes. 
゜・
But with age, naturally, comes the act of growing up. As he sheds his crimson locks, as he slips on his new moniker and buries his name along with his past, as he finally puts a name on the captivation you’ve bound him in—no longer does he laugh as you throw yourself into danger. 
Rather, with each new scar you accumulate on the vast and brilliant canvas of your skin, he can’t help but feel each pain on his own body. 
This especially bodes true as you stumble across the threshold, back into the lonely recesses of your apartment. It’s a small thing in the suburbs—far from prying eyes that snag on the lace decorating your body, far from those that could pick up on your sins. 
When you shuck off the heavy boots—ever the contrast against the exquisite craftsmanship of your clothing—you want nothing more than to collapse against the cold tiles of the floor. As you take on the more fatal—the more perilous—jobs, the money proportionally increases. 
But you don’t get the chance to sink onto the ground, because warm hands suddenly catch your frigid body just as you’re about to keel over. 
DG, Kang Dagyum, Diego—he’s got many names. James. The man you’ve known for the past three years holds you close to his designer sweater. He willingly lets the plush fabric to be soaked in the sins that trailed in with you: clear, polluted rain, which seems to perfectly encapsulate your sullen mood; mud soaking the hem over your veil; and finally the sanguine, oily blood that never seems to wash off. 
“Sorry.” Guilt eats away at you as you watch the material seep with wickedness. “I ruined it.”
Laconic as ever, you feel worse for staining his clothes than you do for coming home bruised and bleeding. His heart seems as tattered as you look, wrenching and twisting through his flesh while you inhale the powdery scent of his freshly-laundered loungewear. 
“You’re not sorry for coming home to me like this?” he bites out. There’s not a trace of laughter in the tight lines of his mouth—for James can’t find these stupid jobs amusing any more. He makes enough, God knows he makes more than enough, for you to leave this cursed work behind and just stay by his side. 
“Um,” you murmur, and he can practically hear the cogs in your brain whirring as you wonder why he’s not mentioning the deep smears of crimson that assault his outfit. “I can change before coming in—”
“Stop.” He interrupts you with his tight grip on your body and the concerned, devoted glint in his softening eyes. “Can’t you worry about yourself for once?”
His job is harsh within itself: volatility and high-pressure wrapped in one, but the things you do for money are downright punitive. It’s paradoxically comical: a man who’s stained his hands with blood far darker and deeper than you have, versus a pseudo-vigilante whose life revolves around violence. Diego Kang, or more accurately, James Lee conceals his past as though it were a separate entity: while still keeping the dregs of yesteryear with him in the form of you.
No, that’s not right. He doesn’t keep you by him. He’s bound to you instead, he realises through his adoring gaze and tender hands, through the reverent kisses he presses to your glacial arms. 
You still as his fingers card through your skin: past the fragile, wounded dermis; weaving through the sinuous muscles, and past the tangles of veins; and finally, they hold tight on the steady thrum of your pulse. You’re alive. You’re alive and breathing, and your heart is still beating through all those layers. 
Only then does he gaze up at you. None of his past ghosts through his look: neither boredom nor the callous indifference he once regarded you with. He’s been destroyed and reborn anew within these three years, while you still remain the painfully reckless fool. 
He’s no longer James Lee.
No, there’s not a single trace left of the boy who once saw your endless struggle as entertaining: save maybe the part of him that’s always been enraptured by your existence.  
゜・
EXTRAS
DG: …
reader: yeah I beat up those haters who were harassing you on twitter
DG: …
DG: without me 🥺
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doumadono · 2 years ago
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Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! villain!Hawks, f!Reader, non-con, taken captive, elements of necrophilia, murder, blood, bondage, forced orgasm, unprotected and rough p in v, Hawks is an ass here, minors absolutely do not interact - a kitten dies if a minor reads this! Synopsis: Hawks has some "fun" with you after catching you spying for the Commission A/N: this story was written for @lewed and it's a contribution for the Secret Santa event hosted by a wonderful @ectologia
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
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Pain. As you slowly opened your eyes, it was the first sensation that greeted you — burning, irresistible pain spreading throughout your body.
The surroundings were dark, and you found yourself uncertain of whether you were still alive or perhaps already dead. Attempting to move, you realized the cold sensation around your wrists indicated the presence of some form of handcuffs.
"Marlene!" You whimpered quietly. "Marlene!"
There was no response, only a lingering, eerie silence.
You tried to move, but you couldn't — your legs felt numb, and you were tethered to some metallic structure. Your entire body ached; every attempt to shift, every shallow breath, was accompanied by pain.
Suddenly, a metallic lock clicked open with a key, and a stream of light flooded the room for a moment before disappearing as a tall, dark silhouette stepped in, closing the door. A few seconds later, a dim light illuminated part of the room as two old lamps hanging on either side of the door flickered to life.
You caught sight of him, and your blood turned icy cold. 
Thick combat boots, dark pants paired with a fitted black t-shirt adorned with golden patterns, and a pair of massive red wings. 
You shook your head, still reluctant to believe your own eyes. "Where's my friend?" you inquired anxiously.
"She's alive," came the calm response from the man with red wings.
A glimmer of hope sparked in your eyes. "Can I see her?"
There was a measured pause before the answer, "If you cooperate."
Your dry, blink-filled gaze met his. His emaciated face betrayed no hint of the intentions behind those words.
Hawks observed as you settled into the discomfort, bound wrists and ankles causing a persistent ache. The worry emanated from you, a palpable scent of pungent sweat, akin to a cornered prey navigating the uncertain terrain.
Hawks fixed his gaze on you for an extended moment, a silent observer in the dimly illuminated room cast by the faint light of aged lamps near the sturdy metal door. 
Slowly, he withdrew to the room's shadows, disappearing momentarily. Amongst a collection of cartoon boxes, a triumphant grin crossed his face as he discovered his sought-after item – a hefty hammer. Returning to your vicinity, he playfully toyed with the ominous tool in his grasp.
"Please, let me go. I won't breathe a word to anyone," you pleaded, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure.
His grin widened, feathers rustling slightly. "Oh, I wish I could, little one. But we've stumbled upon a problem. You and your best friend have gotten a bit too close to the truth about me and my colleagues from the League. Weren't you warned about the dangers of working for the Commission?”
“Please, I swear I won't tell anyone…”
Takami approached you with a frown, his golden eyes bearing a weight of seriousness and intrusion. With a rough hand, he tightly pulled back your hair. "I've made it clear before – cooperation is the only ticket out of the mess you've landed yourself in.” He set the hammer down.
"Please," you implored, devoid of weapons or the freedom of your limbs. Contemplating the distance, a fleeting thought of a potential headbutt crossed your mind. Standing could be an advantage. However, all these options dissipated as a tear traced down your cheek. His hand, not occupied with your hair, coiled around your neck, constricting your airflow. A soft sound escaped you, but as his grip weakened, you hastily gulped in air.
"Good girl. Breathe while you still can," he remarked, his hand tenderly patting back your hair, while your eyes held a bitter scorn.
"Please, take me to my friend. What have you done with her?" you pleaded.
"Oh, she's safe. For now," Hawks declared, rising to his full height. 
Your eyes scrutinized the young man, assessing every detail. There was a darkness in his aura, a stark contrast to the times when Hawks, the former Pro Hero Number Two, was known for helping people. Something had transpired between him and the Commission, and the Hawks people once adored had transformed into a ruthless villain, now one of the most perilous figures in Japan.
Hawks firmly gripped you under the armpits, drawing you in close. Thick ropes of chain encumbered your feet, challenging your balance. Your wrists and ass clung to the pole you were tethered to, seeking stability as the shackles jingled against the unforgiving metal pillar. 
His presence pressed down on you, and you cowered beneath its weight. A hand delicately traced your jaw, toying with your dry and rough lips under his thumb. “When I tell you what I want, you’ll do exactly as I say. You wouldn't want to witness the way darkness emanates from me when I command it, girl. Mind your tone and follow my instructions. Once I'm content with you, I'll allow you to see your friend," the former hero warned.
Your whimper lingered as his thumb persisted, applying pressure to the edge of your lip. It delved in, moistening against your tongue as it pressed against the intrusion.
“Suck,” he commanded. 
You vehemently shook your head in defiance, resisting against him. The notion of biting his thumb crossed your mind, perhaps even snapping it off. You strained to lean your head back, attempting to evade his grasp.
“Don’t try anything. If you do, I hurt her,” Hawks warned with an amused grin glued to his lips.
Your eyelids descended, halting an approaching flood of tears. Sealing your mouth around his digit, you sucked as per his request. His thumb pressed in deeper, and you complied.
"Good girl, yes. That'll do quite well. Now, back on your knees," he directed.
You obeyed, using your bound hands to steady yourself as you half-fell.
Hawks nonchalantly undid his belt, followed by his button and zipper. Darkened briefs emerged where the trousers opened in a V, and his hand slid beneath the band. “Now, open your pretty mouth for me, babybird.”
You followed his command, extending your tongue forward, a queasy sensation building within you.
"Excellent," he remarked, his hand delving beneath the thin fabric of his briefs, gradually revealing his long, veiny dick, slightly curved upward.
"Please, don't… What more do you want? We can erase all the intel we gathered!” you begged pathetically.
"Shut up, whore," he commanded, stroking his growing member. "I don't want anything but this from you. It might be the only thing you're good for, I think. Lick," he instructed, rubbing the reddened, swollen tip of his dick against your tongue. "Wet your tongue again for me, babybird."
You swallowed and opened your mouth wide once more. 
He positioned himself against you, and your lips instinctively sucked. A salty bitterness lingered on your palate as your curious tongue explored the head of his cock.
Hawks hissed as the tip of your tongue flicked the sensitive part of his frenulum underneath. "That's right," he affirmed, pushing in deeper, causing your cheeks to bulge. Takami ran his slim fingers through your hair, keeping you steady on his cock. Pulling out just enough to watch saliva stretch from your lips to his shaft, he thrust back in, repeating the motion until you emitted a desperate noise, gagging yourself on his dick.
"Good girl. That's enough of that for now. You just saved your girlfriend from a beating. She'll appreciate that when she wakes up from her last one." Takami grinned as he rubbed the tip of his erection across your swollen lips, wiping away a fallen tear from your cheek before moving behind you. He worked at the shackles around your wrists.
You felt them loosen and drop, but his hand replaced them, gripping you firmly. He pulled you against the pole, the cold metal burning your neck. As he lifted the white shirt from your torso, you pleaded with the faceless hands to stop. The room vanished momentarily as the shirt passed over your head, landing on the floor beside you. Then, your hands were locked together once more, this time in front of you.
You shivered as the cold air filling the room grazed your exposed, bruised skin.
The restraints around your ankles were skillfully loosened with a series of subtle clicks. Your uniform pants were swiftly discarded, followed by your cotton panties, leaving you bare except for the metal-clad bindings around your wrists as you resumed your kneeling position.
A palpable shift in the room's atmosphere ensued.
Hawks, charged with desire, was visibly electrified. His engorged and reddened member pushed back into your mouth, eliciting a moan from him. "You look stunning with your mouth full of my cock," he murmured, reaching down to play with a nipple between his fingers. "And you're damn good at it." His fingers tenderly smoothed your tousled hair as he guided himself deeper into your throat. "Do you ever do this for your boyfriend, if you have one? No? But I bet you fantasize about it. Yes?" He chuckled, reveling in his revelation after your tongue flexed under the weight of his dick. "I knew it! Your boyfriend is a good boy, huh? Just the missionary routine, not letting you explore, even though deep down, you crave it. It's okay, you can imagine I'm him. I'm sure you already are, judging by how wet you're getting. Just picture me as him, but on a wild ride, eager to try something new.”
Slimy fluids trickled from your pussy, tracing a path down your thigh, the disloyal testament of desire slicking your inner folds.
His fingers continued their dance, skillfully teasing your erect nipples, each touch met with an eager response. A sharp squeeze on the left elicited a cry from you, and as he knelt before you, he drew the aching nub into his mouth. "What makes you climax, babybird? Tell me. I want it to be as pleasurable for you as possible!"
A whimper escaped your lips as his calloused finger glided through your folds, everything feeling unsettlingly taboo. A part of you yearned to resist, to break free and escape. Yet, a more primal instinct responded to his calculated touches, a primal need for closeness with a male that seemed to overpower your rational mind, corrupting it.
A creeping finger eased into your pussy. "You're so wet and tight, just look at that. Didn't want to give me a blowjob, but it's obvious it got you excited," he remarked. A second finger joined the first, curving against the walls of your vagina. The pressure felt both pleasurable and unsettling.
"Do you enjoy that, babybird?" he inquired.
You squirmed away, finding yourself seated on the floor.
He pressed your arms over your head, taking in the sight of your breasts. The supple flesh swayed like ripples on water. With one hand gripping his throbbing length and the other on your hips, he guided the two to meet. "You're making the right choice, obeying me, Y/N. I'll bring you to your friend soon. Just one more thing I need you to do for me." The head of his penis entered you gradually, a delectable stretch spreading through you.
The mingling sensations of pleasure and pain raced through you like wildfire. The boundary between anger and passion blurred, akin to smoke and cloud intertwining. "N-no," you cried, attempting to push him away by pressing your feet against his thighs.
He huffed as he thrust fully inside you, easily bottoming out. His wings fluttered as arousal overcame him. "Fuck, you're so tight, holy shit. Almost feels like you're a virgin."
An involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for that.
"I just need you to do one more thing for me, babybird. I want you to cum for me. I know you can do it, little bitch."
Your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill. His heated and girthy member glided in and out of your drenched pussy. The unforgiving concrete pressed against your back, each forceful thrust leaving bruises as he relentlessly drove you into the ground.
Hawks restrained your arms by holding your wrists above your head, his dominant hand skillfully working your clit. “Fuck, fuck, yes, little dove, I love how your pussy is clenching around me. You're such a good babybird.”
You futilely cursed at him, weakened by the onslaught of physical pleasure. His erection completely filled your pussy, allowing him to penetrate deeply from this angle. Despite the way he mercilessly circled your clit with his thumb, you resisted the urge to wrap your bloodied feet around him and ride his dick back. The struggle not to climax intensified as he sensed your unraveling, cruel laughter escaping him.
"Will your boyfriend ever fuck you like this? No, he'd probably be too gentle," Takami panted between words, thrusting into you with an unrelenting pace. "A girl like you craves it rough, needs it like this. A girl as scarred and desperate as you wants to feel something. A good girl always wants to be damaged. If you want to see your friends and family again, you'll cum on my cock.”
Frustration escaped your lips in a scream. Your ass throbbed, and your core pulsated with proximity to climax. The images of your friend and boyfriend flashed in your mind, intensifying your inner turmoil. In the dimly lit room, through tear-filled eyes, Hawks' face remained elusive. Your juices squelched, trickling down your sensitive skin to your asshole.
"You're holding back. Cum, and I'll take you to your girlfriend. Cum for me." Takami kissed your breasts, fingers maintaining a tantalizing rhythm on your clit, a friction you secretly enjoyed.
Your hips surged upward uncontrollably, and you were cursing the duplicity of your own desires and pussy.
"I told you to cum for me." He struck your face, the impact strong enough to briefly black out your senses.
Impatient, Hawks groaned, his throbbing cock signaling an impending climax. He dispatched a few feathers from his wings, their sharp edges slicing your skin on the shoulders and calves in an attempt to rouse you.
A loud hiss escaped your lips as the sharp cuts decorated your skin, tears streaming down your cheeks. "N-no, I don't... want to! Please! Please, don't cum in! I'm begging you! Please!’ you tried to move away but he slapped your face again.
A warmth surged through you, an irreversible tide that swept away any chance of retreat. Suppressing your moans, you felt your core tighten around him, forcing him through a final series of thrusts before he climaxed within your rhythmically clenching pussy. Your orgasm, though unexpected and unwelcome, was all-encompassing. Legs shaking, abdomen twitching, you writhed beneath his touch, attempting to muffle the sounds of pleasure, aware that he observed the explosion of pleasure within you. The sneer of his release transformed into a cruel smile.
"I knew you wouldn't be entirely worthless to me," he remarked, tucking his member away once again.
"That's so sad."
"W-what's sad?" you asked, still catching your breath. "You promised I'd be able to see my friend. Where is she?"
Hawks, unbothered by your voice and a wet stain on his pants from your combined releases after he retracted his cock, sent one of his feathers to illuminate the room while switching the lights on. 
It was then that you saw her — your friend, lifeless, naked and hanging upside down on the opposite wall, her ankles bound to the ceiling, her torso gruesomely cut from throat to vagina.
The echoes of your own screams reverberated in your ears, but the voice seemed alien, almost primal — like that of a wild animal.
Hawks approached the suspended lifeless body and callously slapped the vagina of your deceased friend. "She wasn't as cooperative as you. Unfortunately, we had to eliminate her."
Tears streamed down your face as you choked on your own sobs, struggling against the metal restraints binding your wrists. "Why! Oh God! Oh God! Marlene!"
Hawks explained, "She didn't want to listen," just as the metal door swung open. “Such a waste. I wasn't aware that preserving one's virginity was still a concern in today's girls' world. But I must say she was fucking delicious. Not as much as you, of course.”
Entering the room was none other than Dabi, casually leaning against the wall, observing the macabre scene. "Came to check what's taking you so long, birdbrain.”
"I was reuniting our lovely Y/N with her friend. She was a good, obedient girl to me, so I decided to reward her."
Dabi furrowed his brow, rolling his eyes a little. "Memory cards, birdbrain," he reminded.
Hawks casually retraced his steps to your discarded clothes, rummaging through the pockets of your uniform pants. He retrieved two SD cards and handed them to Dabi.
The scarred villain ventured further into the room, reaching for a Nikon camera on one of the shelves. "Can't wait to get off to this little tape tonight," he chuckled, shooting you a cold glance.
A lump formed in your throat. They had recorded everything — every violation inflicted by Hawks, every involuntary response of your body. Dread enveloped you.
“Please…” you whispered.
Hawks gave Dabi a look, and the other villain nodded.
"Shush, shush, shush," Dabi cooed, crouching next to you, sizing your face with his hand, turning it more to inspect it. "Don't cry. This little tape will be sent to your dad in Kyoto, a small keepsake of you. He'll be able to see your last moments. How his precious, little daughter, working so proudly in the Hero Public Safety Commission was taking villain's cock like a cheap whore. I'm sure he'll be proud."
"What... Please, please!" Your voice rose in desperation. "Please! I won't tell anyone. I can spy for you, I can do whatever you want. Please!"
Dabi observed you with amusement. "Isn't she the sweetest?" He cast a sidelong glance at Hawks before leaning forward to lick the tears off your reddened cheeks.
You winced, trying to crawl away.
Dabi grinned and rose, exiting the room. "Just don't leave a mess here. I'm not keen on cleaning up after you, birdie."
As the metal door closed, you whined like a wounded animal. Instinctively, you knew you weren't going to make it out of this situation alive.
Hawks approached you, ruffling your hair. "You were a good girl. I want you to know that."
"Please," you tried once again. "Please, free me."
He smiled at you. "I'm freeing you."
A swooshing sound filled the air, and the next moment, you were suffocating with your own blood, unable to draw a breath. The blood quickly poured down your chest through the cut throat, and soon your head hung lifelessly to the side.
Hawks lingered for a moment, watching your lifeless body. He couldn't resist slipping his hands down and between your legs, rubbing your still warm and slick folds, pushing his finger in one last time. "Such a waste," he murmured, licking his fingers clean before getting up. He used the hammer he had earlier picked up to crush the phone he retrieved from the pocket of your uniform trousers. Following that, he doused your body, as well as your friend's, and the floor in gasoline before igniting it with his lighter.
Whistling happily under his breath, he left the room and ascended the metal stairs, leaving everything that had transpired behind, not bothering to turn around even once.
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elffics · 4 months ago
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Let me show you how perfect you are.
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Gif credit:_gamashh_(tiktok)
Summary: reader gets criticized for her kind(human) and her physical structure(being skinny or chubby, choose whatever you want) by the noldo elves that live in Himring, even though she is their lord's spouse.
Warnings: none, fluff at the end
Pairing: Maedhros x human female reader
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In the dim light of dawn, a gentle breeze whispered through the stone corridors of the fortress, rousing the Lady from her slumber. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the intricate stained glass, casting colorful patterns across her room, she stretched beneath the soft linens of her bed, awakening to the responsibilities that awaited her. she is not merely a woman after all, but the lady of Himring.
With a sigh of resolution, she rose and adorned herself in a flowing gown of deep emerald. As she brushed her hair, she caught a glimpse of herself in the ornate mirror—a blend of human softness and determination, a heart that loved fiercely yet bore the weight of disapproval from those around her.
The duties of the day began, and as she moved through the great hall, she could feel the watchful eyes of the elven folks upon her. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, each glance laden with judgment. They were beings of ethereal beauty, with features sculpted like fine art, and their scrutiny pierced her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. she could feel their whispers flowing like a hidden stream—murmurs about her human physique, her vulnerability, and the perceived inadequacy of her presence beside their noble lord.
Despite the passage of time since her union with Maedhros, she was still the outsider, the flawed human among the immortally graceful elves. She often caught snippets of conversation as the elves exchanged glances, their lips curling in disdain as they regarded her physique, her stature, and the very essence of her humanity as beneath them. The weight of their scorn settled heavily upon her shoulders.
Yet, she pushed the discomfort aside, embracing her role with determination. She took care of the fortress and did her duties perfectly and without complains. The laughter and camaraderie of the court rang in her ears, blending with the haunting melodies of the lutes, but it felt like music from a world apart—a reminder of her inherent isolation.
As the day unfolded, Maedhros remained unaware of the quiet torment she endured. The way he loved her, with warmth in his eyes and a kindness that ignited a joyful flame in her heart, was a light against the darkness of her surroundings. She longed to share her struggles with him, to seek his comfort, yet a sense of duty held her silent. She feared his concern, the way a storm could dim the bright skies of their union. Instead, she wore her smile like armor, concealing her heartache beneath the layers of silk and dignity.
With every task she undertook, she fought against the whispers, against the sting of their critical gazes. She arranged flowers, their vibrant colors contrasting with the somber shades of stone, attempting to breathe life into the walls that felt so cold and unwelcoming. She engaged with the servants, her laughter genuine, but even that was met with the skepticism of the elven nobles, their expressions veiled with polite contempt.
As she paused to gaze out of the fortress window at the vast forest beyond, its depths teeming with life and mystery, a single thought anchored her heart: she would prove her worth. she may have been human, but she was resilient—a spark of fire in the midst of a chill. She would nurture her home, uphold her duties, and earn her place in the hearts of the elves, not through flaws that they labeled her with, but through her unwavering spirit and steadfast love for the lord who had chosen her.
And so, as the sun set in the sky, she took a deep breath, only to gasp when suddenly a hand sneaked around her middle and held her waist firmly, pulling her to rest her back on his chest. she lifted her head to look at her beloved husband. Maedhros gazed down at her, his lips held a warm smile. "why are you here alone and in the cold?, do you wish to get ill?, your skin feels cold", he questioned her as his left hand stroked her cheek, not liking how she doesn't take care of herself.
"I was merely taking a breath, to ease my mind. I did not intend to stay for a while". she answered truthfully for she just wanted to be away from the noises. slowly, she turned herself to meet him and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him and resting her head on his chest. she hummed softly as his hand caressed her head. "what troubles you my bright start, hmm?. every day you shine and light my life yet lately your brightness seems to slowly varnish". concern filled his tone as his hand lifted her head to look at him. the brightness in her eyes were not there. "please, tell me. I want to help as you always help me"
At first, she hesitated but she wanted to get it all out of her chest. her head leaned on his hand and closed her eyes. "ever since our union, my days have become brighter, more joyous. I thought.... I thought this will continue but your-...". opening her eyes, she looked up at him. she reminded herself that she has to tell him or she will forever be stuck in this loop. "your people seem to not like the idea of a human being with you or idea that I'm the lady of Himring.... I can feel their eyes on me everywhere I go, judging me, whispering and looking down on me". remembering their words made her furious. Maedhros stayed silent, listening to everything she wanted to say. "they have the audacity to come to me and tell me about my weight, telling me to gain/lose weight and should take care of my body so I can be more elegant, more elf like!".
She didn't realize that she was crying until his thumb wiped her tearing. Maedhros leaned down to plant a kiss on her head. "my sweet, sweet, bright star. I should have known, I should have done something. I'm terribly sorry for making you endure this alone. I give you my word that from now on, no one will ever dare to judge you or throw harmful words at you". although his words were soft, it pained him how he did not notice her pain. his endless duties locked him in his office. his right arm wrapped around her waist while his other one under her knees. he chuckled at the cute sound she made when he lifted her in his arms. he started walking, heading to their shared chamber, only one thing in his mind and it's to show her how she is perfect in his eyes.
A warm smile formed on her lips, loving how their bodies were so close. only for her smile to fade when she noticed one of Maedhros's court lords approaching them. she buried her face in her husband's neck, not wanting to face the one who always criticized her. Maedhros halted. he immediately knew that this one hurt his dear wife with his harsh words because this elf is very known for his harsh words. "greetings my lord, I was searching for you. I need to discuss something with you now". Maedhros didn't like how he didn't greet his wife and how he demanded his presence even though Maedhros looked very clearly occupied. "we shall discuss it later. as you see I have a VERY important matter to do. now if you will excuse me". "but my lord-...". Maedhros didn't let him finish as he darted away, promising himself to deal with him later.
As Maedhros reached their shared chamber, she finally pulled her face away from his neck. the familiar scent from her candles made her body relax. Maedhros placed her on their bed. he only pulled away to remove his cloak and then returned to lay on top of her, carefully not to put all his weight on her. warmth spread all over her face, when has it been since they shared an intimate moment together?. she can't recall because it has been a while. Maedhros kissed her forehead then her eyes then cheeks and lastly, her lips. the kiss was slowly and soft, taking his time to show her how he loves her tenderly. after a few minutes, he pulled away, looking at her with a warm smile, loving how her face has become red. his left hand started roaming down her body with a gentle touch. not forceable nor strong, only gentleness."let me show you, how perfect you are, my bright start". whispering his words softly in her ears. the brightness in her eyes returned and with it his soul. he promised himself to punish everyone who dared to harm her but that's for later. right now he will focus on her only, probably for the whole night.
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coochiequeens · 2 months ago
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Women are incredibly dedicated listeners,” Megan Lazovick, VP at Edison Research, said, noting that the average woman spends nearly three hours daily listening to music. Hispanic women listen even more—over four hours per day."
For American women, music is more than a backdrop—it's a daily companion, a form of emotional support, and a shared experience that connects families and spans generations. And radio continues to be a vital part of that soundtrack.
That’s the picture painted by new findings from Edison Research and SiriusXM Media, presented during a webinar Tuesday exploring how women engage with music and what it means for advertisers.
“Music is omnipresent,” said Megan Lazovick, VP at Edison Research. “Women across all demographics deeply integrate music into their daily routines.”
The study, based on a national sample of 2,500 women age 18 and older who have listened to audio in the past month, found that 84% had consumed music during that time. Among all audio content types, music dominates women’s listening—accounting for 77% of their daily audio time.
While streaming platforms now lead in music discovery, traditional AM/FM radio continues to play a significant role. Nearly half (49%) of women surveyed said they still turn to radio to discover new music—just behind YouTube and social sharing from friends and family. SiriusXM indexed even higher among women aged 55+, reinforcing radio's continued relevance among older audiences.
“Women are incredibly dedicated listeners,” Lazovick said, noting that the average woman spends nearly three hours daily listening to music. Hispanic women listen even more—over four hours per day.
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Music’s Dual Roles In Women’s Lives
The study finds music plays both emotional and practical roles. Among respondents, 85% said music is a powerful stress reliever, 81% use it to escape, and 77% say it brings back memories of better times. For many, it's an antidote to daily pressures and an emotional anchor during tough moments. Music also offers a sense of reliability and companionship according to the research.
“Music serves as a form of medicine,” said Melissa Paris, VP of Sales Research at SiriusXM Media. She noted the emotional weight music carries, helping women navigate stress, grief, family challenges, and mental health struggles.
In fact, 87% of women surveyed say they turn to music to cope with life’s difficulties. The top emotional benefits include stress relief (85%), escape (81%), and feelings of nostalgia or connection to better times (77%).
But the relationship isn’t purely emotional—music plays a practical role too. Over half of women say it helps pass time or makes mundane tasks more enjoyable. Nearly a quarter use it to help concentrate on challenging tasks. Music also helps structure family life, with many using it to entertain children, calm them, or establish daily routines.
The study revealed that music is often a shared experience within households. Among women with children under 18, 92% say their kids listen to music, and 89% listen alongside them. “Music bridges generations,” Paris said, recalling dancing with her daughter to Taylor Swift’s “22” at a concert as one of her most cherished memories.
The data showed this bond is especially strong among multicultural mothers. Additionally, 78% of women agree that music improves their child’s mood, and 72% say it helps spark imagination—making music a screen-free way to both entertain and educate.
Women also turn to music to help with daily tasks—whether it’s staying entertained while doing chores or establishing routines for their children. Nearly half of moms surveyed use music to calm or entertain their kids, and 78% agree music is a great screen-free tool.
The study found that music listening is often shared. Among women with children under 18, 89% say they listen to music with their kids. That figure rises among multicultural mothers, who report even higher rates of shared listening. Many say they use music to expose their children to various genres or their cultural heritage.
What Women Listen To
Genre preferences vary across demographics. Women 18-34 gravitate toward hip-hop, indie rock, and Spanish-language music. Women 55 and older prefer classic rock, classical, and oldies—formats often associated with radio. In fact, genre variety and curated playlists are among the reasons many women continue to turn to broadcast and satellite radio despite the rise of streaming.
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The study also highlights the growing desire for female representation in music. Among women aged 18-34, 37% say most of the artists they listen to are female—compared to just 8% among women 55 and older. Younger listeners also feel deeper personal connections to artists, particularly when they’re visible in media, collaborate with other women, or support relatable causes.
That emotional connection extends to brands. Women are primary decision-makers in areas such as grocery shopping, health and wellness, and family finance—and 85% recall hearing ads in these categories while listening to music.
“Music offers a uniquely powerful platform for authentic brand connections,” Lazovick said. “The smart brands are paying attention and supporting these young voices.”
Top recalled ad categories included movies and TV, restaurants, and streaming video. Adding audio ads can now be dynamically personalized by genre, time of day, and even weather—giving brands real-time opportunities to be present in meaningful moments.
“Music is not just background noise,” Paris said. “It’s an integral part of women’s identities, relationships, and daily experiences. It's a powerful medium for authentic brand connections.
Ladies, who are you listening to? Please share your recommendations. Especially for women artists
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ssplague · 1 year ago
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Benighted Beloved
Chapter One 
Masterlist
(Read the PROLOGUE first)
Mature 
Dragon King Bakugou x Moon Princess y/n
Warnings: A/B/O themes, soulmates, mating, sex, manipulation, power and control.
Oh how can one’s feelings
spin a tale so profound? 
For only true love shall
Determine whether darkness 
Or light shall abound?
The clouds of mist stemming from your shaky panting breaths resemble tendrils of smoke unfurling from the snout of a dragon. The vapors dissipate as they flow up towards the darkening sky. You had been running for at least an hour now, with no thought of stopping. Regardless of how much distance you’d put between yourself and the castle which you had escaped from, it would never be far enough. Sweat stung bleary e/c orbs as it slipped from your forehead down into them. The mud that you had carefully packed over the scent glands on each side of your neck was becoming itchy as it flaked off. It wasn’t just on your neck though; Each wrist had so much mud caked around them it almost resembled an earthy colored bangle. As well as the insides of your thighs, they were coated in it as well. Now that it was getting dark out you would have to be even more careful of getting tangled up in thorn bushes or slapped by jagged branches. The tiniest drop of blood would have him centered in on your location as soon as the breeze carried its scent to him.
All of these precautions were necessary when you were fleeing for your life. The gigantic disadvantage of just who was sure to begin pursuing you at any moment, already meant luck would be the only thing on your side.
Slivers of moon light forced their way between gaps in the tree tops.
He has to of returned by now.
Once that man steps a single foot inside the castle, your absence will be made instantly apparent. Not from the fretting of the structures hired occupants as they frantically searched for you, or threw themselves at the king’s feet pleading for mercy, shrieking apologies. None of that noise alerted King Bakugou of your disappearance, nothing so trivial. 
It was the sudden feeling of emptiness that caused tightening in his chest, the return of that lonely longing in his soul.
Ignoring the idiots prostrating themselves before him, the beast of a man turned on his heel and exited the castle. Anger was coursing through his veins, white hot fury made his blood boil, sparks began emitting at random from clenched fists as he lost control of his thoughts. The hulking physique of the Dragon King was always imposing, but as his cloak billowed behind him in the night air, the man seemed to be growing larger. Anyone who had previously been out on the castle grounds was nowhere to be found, and good thing because even the bravest man’s heart would have given out as his eyes caught sight of the approaching ruler. 
Katsuki Bakugou could easily be mistaken for the devil himself as he storms across the court yard. Muscle began swelling beneath the flesh of expanding limbs as they grew larger. The teeth that were clenched in a snarl elongated and sharpened, horns sprouted from the king’s skull to accompany the wild blonde hair atop his head. Smatterings of Glittering gold scales could be seen mixed into the majority of the inky black ones that made up his protective hyde. The now large ruby irises were iridescent as they shined with what resembled hellfire itself. Where the king had been standing, a dragon of monstrous proportions now stood. Leathery wings expanded outward as the beast threw back its head to release a bellowing roar. With that, it launched itself skyward and zoomed off into the night.
You were kneeling down at the bank of a small stream, gulping down handfuls of water as you tried to catch your breath. The soft rustling of bushes across the way had you frozen in fear, ready to spring up and start running again.
The head of a doe pokes out from a bush, you and the animal blink back at each other for a moment.
Your body sags in relief, deeming you not to be a threat, the doe and her fawn come to stand on the opposite bank. Both dipping their heads down to drink, you watch them with a small smile on your face as you begin to reapply mud atop your scent glands.
The fawn watches you with its head cocked to the side, curious as to what you were doing. All of the sudden both deer’s are on high alert and that was a good enough cue to you that it was time to get going. The three of you all bolt off in separate directions. Your legs were practically screaming in protest, feet were undoubtedly swollen inside your soaked slippers.
The one thing you were thankful for was the thick cloak you’d thrown on before making your daring escape.
You had never wanted this life to begin with, you’d merely been minding your business walking down the beach when you stumbled across him. Seeing such a beautiful man laying there with such grievous injuries, you were compelled to help him.
                         🏝️
One year prior
The people of this village had a shrine erected to the moon goddess Selene. Upon entering their midst, the island dwelling folk took one look at the crescent moon on your forehead and immediately welcomed you. Their crops were flourishing and nets were bursting with fish ever since you had taken residence within the shrine. It was far from easy to lug such a heavy man to your current home, but you inevitably succeeded. At first Katsuki was anything but grateful for your help. He scoffed at your efforts and cursed you out while doing your best at nursing him back to health. You took it in stride, never hesitating to clap back at the man with a gorgeous face and terrible attitude. As time went on you two had grown fond of each other, he knew you were the only one in this life for him.
Eventually the day came where he needed to return home, not once had he ever mentioned his title.
So when the young monarch confessed his feelings to you as he gripped your hands tightly, informing you that you were to be his future queen and he would soon return to bring you home, you were shocked. When he released his hold on you to step back and became a giant dragon, you screamed in terror, falling to the ground. Shrieking even louder as you attempted to scramble backwards when the beast leaned down to rub its snout against you.
I’ll be back for you soon, I promise.
You heard it clear as day inside of your head, lifting a shaky hand to caress the beasts sparkling scales. 
The magnificent creature closed its eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of your touch. Then it was gone, leaving you standing there with misty eyes and a trembling lip. That was the first time you had experienced grief that stemmed from loneliness. All the while you remained silent. Watching the dragon flying on the horizon until you could no longer make out its shape.
“We wanted to tell you…but felt it wasn’t our place” the village priestess and wife of the chieftain says, coming to stand by your side.
“Tell me what? That he was royalty? Or a dragon?” You attempted to joke, failing to notice how grave the other woman’s expression was.
“To tell you that he is a monster, goddess born please you must flee from here, that man has caused rivers of blood to flow across these lands ever since he came of age”she pleads with you,“Katsuki Bakugou is more beast than he is man, his soul has been permanently darkened by all of the lives he’s taken and misery he’s sewn”.
“Please elder tell me more about this dragon king…I need to know what exactly I’m up against…”
A short time later you’re seated around a table of other women, a few men are leaned up against the walls of the chief’s home, including the man himself. Every person in attendance has told you the frightening stories of the dragon king’s cruelty, how he revels in the blood of his foes, commands a massive army made up of both beasts and men. You sit silently, soaking all of this information in, thinking back on the time you’d spent with Bakugou.
“I know what you must be thinking my dear, the man from our stories couldn’t be the one you’d helped…It’s only natural for a kind soul like yourself to want to see the good in others” a very old woman addressed you softly, reaching her gnarled hands across the table to gently grip your’s “Selene shines through you in every aspect of your life, you are a strong, smart, beautiful woman with an aura as pure as snow….A treasure that no mere mortal could ever create”.
The women at the table all chime in:
“Those reasons are surely few of the things that lead to the beast’s fascination and resulting infatuation with you…” 
“A pure soul reaching out to one that’s grown so dark over time….”
“A beacon of light shining across a blackened ocean, a diamond hidden amongst coal” 
Then the men speak:
“Dragons are self serving, stingy, beasts; Anything that shines beautifully they can’t help but be drawn too”
“They will obsessively seek out whatever it is that they desire, disregarding rationality and consequence”
“Once they get ahold of whatevet is they hide it away, if they can keep from destroying it beforehand that is, they may treat their hoard delicately, but how many of those treasures do you think were crushed under foot? Speared by talons?”
The villagers were right.
The man that you met was on deaths door, Bakugou was probably more vulnerable with you than anyone else had ever seen him. Anger is a result of fear, now the man’s crude language and sharp tongue made sense. Unfortunately, now that he was back to his beastly self, there was no telling what would happen between the two of you. 
Or what would happen to you…
So you agreed to leave, accepting hugs and parting gifts from familiar faces, promising to return when it would be safe to do so. As you set sail on your one person raft, you admired the beauty of the moon shining down on you.Thankfully the mainland was only a day’s journey from here, and once you reached the shore you set off again. The best plan of action was to head west, but your journey towards the neighboring kingdom still took you through Bakugou’s territory.
Maybe I jumped to conclusions?
You couldn’t help but wonder as you rest atop a down tree within an unfamiliar forest. The village folk had no reason to mislead you, they were sad to see you go after all…
Still, the monster they described was nothing like the Man you had spent time with. How unfortunate would it be if all of this turned out to be a complete misunderstanding?
                            🔥
Seven moons later a red dragon soared over the vast ocean with ease, but the person atop its head was riddled with anxiety.  Katsuki opted to have Kirishima fly him back to the island, that way the king could enjoy holding you close during the ride back.
Back home both people and creatures alike were all excited and joyfully anticipating the crowning of a new king, as well as a queen. After all this time thinking they wouldn’t ever have another one.
The current Queen Mitsuki was thrilled at the prospect of finally being a grandmother, she had just about forced her idiot son to at least reproduce with one of the now out of work concubines. Katsuki may hold the title of “Dragon King”, but he has yet to officially take the throne. It was traditional for the first in line to be mated before being granted the right to rule. The kingdoms oracle had foretold the young monarch’s eventual meeting with an ethereal beauty capable of soothing the savage beast residing inside of him, and the two of them would rule together over their prosperous kingdom for many decades to come. At least that is the official part of the prophecy the public was privy to…
“Land here Shitty hair, we don’t want to frighten her” Bakugou commands his companion, making an effort to mask the excitement in his gruff voice. Once the king dismounts, the crimson dragon begins to shrink and soon a red haired man of similar stature appears in its place. Both men walk through the now silent village, so focused on the task at hand they fail to notice the lack of activity or occupants. On the edge of the village a short forest path leads to the shrine where the king stayed with you. Kirishima stops short and allows Bakugou to walk up the short staircase alone.
“I’ve returned for you, just as I promised I would” Bakugou announces before sliding open the door. Instead of the beautiful woman he was expecting, the shrine was empty…a single insense burned beneath the painted moon.
No sign of the woman he loved.
Sensing the distress of his best friend, Kirishima comes to peek inside, seeing the empty space makes his heart ache for the man beside him.
“Maybe she’s out enjoying the sun? Why don’t we walk around a bit, I’m sure we’ll find her!” The red head 
suggests, always the optimist.
The suggestion is met with silence, and now the absence of this island’s inhabitants dawns on both of them.
Unbeknownst to the dragon shifters above, the villagers had fled down into the island’s underground cave system.
It was the best shot they had at avoiding the vengeful Dragon King’s retaliation. Yes all of them were far beneath the surface where they planned to reside for some time to come. Well all of them with exception of one…
“Did you really believe she would wait for you after finding out all of the awful things you’ve done?  After she learned the truth about you?” A voice calls out from behind the two shifters. They turn to see a man similar in age but his build was drastically smaller than each of there’s. He was the village chief’s eldest and most arrogant son, Shindo. The newcomer shows no respect to the royalty before him, his eyes are narrowed and he sneers at the king he hates so much.
“A monster has no right to claim one that is goddess born, your darkness will suffocate her light, the blood on your hands will sully her pure heart, im sure you know that though…but you don’t care do you, your majesty?” Shindo taunts.
“Where is she?”
Three words are all he gets in reply to his mockery of the king.
“Where is she?”
The question is repeated, gradually becoming more aggressive and louder than the time before.
“Somewhere you won’t be able to reach her” the dark haired man replies with a shrug, all he’d wanted to do was get under Bakugou’s skin and obviously he’d succeeded.
Just as Shindo turns his back on the Dragon king, does he feel something yanking him backwards. A shocked cry follows the agony of sharp talons stabbing into his shoulder.
“Tell me where she went and maybe I’ll be merciful and make your death quick, or I can peel your flesh off In tiny little strips, before I roast you alive on a stick like a pig” 
So began an interrogation turned execution, the screams resulting from it had all of the birds on the island taking flight. 
Kirishima watched as Bakugou washed the blood off of himself in the ocean, the kings cape hung off his faithful companion’s outstretched arm. Flames shot up towards the darkening sky as a raging inferno engulfed the empty village behind them. A rare grimace had replaced the red head’s usual shark toothed smile, beads of sweat lined his brow and dribbled down his broad back. The only sympathy within the red dragon shifter’s heart was for his best friend; Not an ounce was spared for the people that had now lost their homes, nor the bastard that had his life snuffed out by royal hands. This was the price to be paid for causing the king such immense grief. They got off easy honestly, maybe the two dragons would return when the rats thought it was safe to come out of wherever they were hiding. Only to end up being massacred by unforgiving talons and teeth. Once the blonde exits the water he takes his cape back, fastening it, and giving his comrade a simple nod before both of them begin to shift. Neither one of the massive dragons spared the burning island a glance as they took off toward home. 
                              💐
“Oh what should I do now? I have no idea” you huff, somehow you ended up in a picturesque meadow.
Various types of flowers are surrounding you, all of them are so colorful and vibrant. You apologize to each one you plucked from the earth, nimble fingers setting to work on weaving a crown to set atop your head. “Id gotten so comfortable with life at the village I’d almost forgotten that I’m not originally from this world…nor am I used to such solitude…” Your whispers are carried away by the wind as it begins to blow rather harshly.
                           🍃
“I think that’s good enough to replenish my stock for now, guess I’ll head back and drop these off before I go back to the capital, better hurry if I want to make it in time for Kaachan’s return” the green haired male says to no one in particular, wiping the sweat from his freckled brow. “Oh no looks like a storm is approaching” Izuku mumbles as he exits the dense forest and takes in the darkening sky over head “Damn”. Upon reaching the floral meadow the first drops of rain begin to fall, just beyond the flowers hidden by a clump of trees, sets a small house his deceased mother used to call home. It now serves as a miniature library, as well as a laboratory that the greenette uses to practice his alchemy. The spontaneous down pour is surprising in itself, but the sudden boom of thunder, and flash of lightning is unnerving. What could have caused such a sudden severe change of weather? Another loud boom sounds above but a frightened scream comes from somewhere in the meadow.
Emerald eyes squint against the pelting rain as they scan the surroundings, and then he sees her.
A lone figure shivering amongst the flowers, hands clasped over her ears and eyes squeezed shut.
Midoryia wastes no time hurrying over to the frightened woman, “Hey there! Are you out here all alone miss? Have you been injured?”.
Your eyes open as you hear the concerned tone of a stranger, opening your mouth to reply a bright strike of lightening hits a tree mere yards from where you sit.
A yelp escapes you and suddenly you have one of the man’s arms in a tight hold. “Oh no you’re soaked, c’mon I have shelter just ahead and I’m sure you would appreciate a change of clothes” the green haired stranger gives you an infectious smile that you do your best to return, allowing him to lead you out of the storm. 
A/N: Thoughts? Should I open a tag list? 
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unholyhelbig · 9 months ago
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now i need more firecrest asap after that cliffhanger
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Title: Firecrest (Part 6/7)
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six]
Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.
Warnings: Please, please, please read these, it's a heavy chapter. Kidnapping, torture, cigarette burns, blood, Cutting, getting stabbed (Idk how to explain it, istg it's not knifeplay), physical violence, horrible grammar, and let me know if I forgot anything please.
[A/n: I promise I don't think Clint or Eleanor are bitches... maybe Eleanor a little bit. This is for plot purposes! Eleanor is a MILF, I don't make the rules!]
The fist was strong enough to crack against your jaw like a whip. It was a rude awakening, one you were sure had shattered bone and most definitely filled your mouth with a helping of metallic blood that you weren’t quick enough to swallow. You let it choke you, your mind still slow and too foggy to acknowledge the position you were in. 
Strung up as if you were about to be carved with a butcher's knife and served up for Thanksgiving dinner. Your eyes refused to adjust right away, but you caught the glimpse of golden iron knuckles, the glint from a nearby light the only thing that you could pinpoint past the pulsing pain and the garbled breaths you could take. 
Another hit, this time aimed a little higher. You felt the edge of the metal dig into your skin and the steady waterfall of warmth that began to drip down the side of your face and off your chin. It spread to your stomach, which was startlingly bare. The simple fact that you might be nude was enough to jar you from whatever unconsciousness that lingered. 
You pulled in a painful breath, pinpricks of cold air filling your lungs. You felt like you were underwater, completely submerged. While the thundering ache of your wounds caused concern, what scared you more was your current position; a rope had been wrapped around your wrists and thrown over a beam on the ceiling. It was tied to an iron hook bolted to the wall, effectively lifting your arms uncomfortably over your head, the soles of your now-bare feet barely touching dirt. 
They’d stripped you of your blazer and the blue that you had agreed to wear to please Kate. It was never a color you enjoyed, reminding you too much of the broken crystals and toxic chemicals that had gotten you here in the first place. Thankfully, they’d left you in your sports bra and dress pants. Their hits were meant to wound deeper, to strip you of skin and damage tendons beyond repair. 
You were in a horse stable, or something that was once used as such. On either side of the long structure were the sectioned spaces for the large animals, but they’d been fortified with iron bars. It reminded you too much of  a prison despite both ends of the building being open and giving you ample views of the night sky. The cold wind brought goosebumps to your bare skin. 
 A groan pushed past your lips. You tried to use what little strength you had left to pull yourself up, just to alleviate the pressure on your shoulders, but there was no such luck. Your muscles twitched before giving out entirely. You settled for blinking the dripping blood from your eyes and taking a look at your attacker. 
There wasn’t much clarity to be had. He was, by all accounts, a white man with too much scruff and a cowboy hat for shits and giggles. You weren’t about to scoff at his choice in attire. You had no power in this situation. You couldn’t feel your fingers, much less create a spark from them. With the amount of hay scattered about, not only would it be pointless, but it would end up killing you in the process. 
“Oh good, you’re awake.” His breath leaked from his mouth in streams of smoke. You weren’t sure if it stemmed from the cold or the cigarette between his lips. He swiveled, calling out “She’s awake!” 
The sound-off didn’t bring an immediate presence. But Texas, as you kindly dubbed him in your sedative soaked brain, stepped forward and plucked the cigarette from his lips before pressing the angry red tip against your collarbone. He stamped his filthy habit out. 
A grunt escaped you, and you pulled once more on the uncomfortable ropes that had you bound. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of breaking from a little burn and some unfair fighting tactics. It hurt like hell, bit into your skin. Up close, he had yellowed teeth from his vice, and his mouth clicked when he smiled. “Boss said we could rough you up, makes for better television.” 
“Here I was,” you panted, voice gravelly “Thinking you were the boss.” 
He smiled thinly at that, the light in his eyes faltering. He let the extinguished cigarette drop to the lightly packed dirt floor, hooking his thumbs into his belt-buckle and taking an admiring step back. He appreciated his handiwork, the two wounds on your face and a third against your heaving chest. 
“Aw, leave some fun for the rest of us, will you?” another voice. A woman. 
You whipped your chin up much too fast, your head suddenly swimming at the quick movement. It had been a mistake and took a few moments for you to orient yourself again. Her presence didn’t give you much clarity, if any. She was dressed warmly for the crispening weather, a black coat and black leather gloves. Her face was obscured by a solid gold mask, only holes cut out for the sharp blue eyes that were so familiar. 
“How’s my prisoner holding up?” She cooed, taking your face in one hand. She squeezed your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. The aching pain in your jaw shot up to a slowly-forming headache. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already? Sweet girl, you confessed your undying love to me. I thought you’d show more enthusiasm. 
You could feel the blush moving across your cheeks, an annoying pink tint that gave you away. You wanted to spit in her face, but it wouldn’t have been productive, you feared. It would only anger her, and leave you unsatisfied. So you dragged a breath in and steeled yourself with an icy frown. She wore Kate’s bracelet. 
“No matter,” She released you and a rip of pain moved through your shoulder blades, her fingers trailing against your well-defined stomach, nails leaving subtle pink indentations. “Flattery will get you nowhere, y/n.” 
You snarled “What do you want?” 
“From you, darling? Absolutely nothing. You’re not as important as you think you are.” She tsked, circling you like a hungry shark. “Pretty, but not important. You’re nothing more than a pawn. All I want is for you to sit pretty and wait for your father.” 
The fire that you couldn’t conjure from your fingertips lit your stare in a dangerous red. The masked woman tilted her head to the side in what you’ve come to realize was interest. A low hum rumbled from her chest. You glowered at the two of them, drawing in breaths and releasing them in a way that caused the less pain. 
Of course this had to do with Clint. He’d waltzed back into your life, stirred up old feelings, and had effectively gotten you kidnapped. You didn’t know where Kate, your Kate, was. The thought made you thrash a little harder against your binds. The sharp sting of coarse rope cut into your wrists, a line of blood no bigger than a teardrop, slid to the crook of your elbow in response. 
“He doesn’t know where you are, sweetie.” 
She tutted, shaking her mask-clad head and stirring the raven hair that hung lazily on her shoulders. The woman kept a keen eye on you, as if you had anywhere to go, but she reached blindly back towards Tex. He wore a confused expression for a moment before the gears in his head started to turn and brush off the cobwebs. He flicked open his pocket knife and handed it to her. 
“Don’t you think it’s a shame that print is dying? Holding up a phone with the time and date just isn’t as motivating as it once was.” 
It was your turn to be confused, but it only lasted as long as it took for the blade to touch your skin. This time, you couldn’t hold back the scream. She was much too slow with her cut, much too methodical. She’d done this before, maybe with livestock, but she knew how to maximize the stinging pain 
She was carving into your flesh, something that would stay with you until the end of time. They were coordinates, you knew by the third agonizing number that she chiseled right below the burn that Tex had inflicted. She tried to silence you with her incessant coos and tender exclamations that it would all be okay. 
How could it? The veins in your arms were straining just to quell the sharp pain of her handiwork. You were doused in sweat, which stung just as bad in the open cuts than the slices themselves. When she’d finished the last number, you had screamed yourself sore, the adrenaline that made it nearly tolerable leaving as soon as it had filled your veins. 
The masked woman slid her tongue over the sharpened blade, licking away the tint of red before she let it fall to the floor. She’d gotten bored of you, you could tell by the flatness in her stare. Your head hung and mucus dripped from your nose, you made no attempt to swallow it back. 
“Rough her up a bit more, then take the photos.” The woman demanded, her voice retreating. “Send them to every news station in the city. They’re not going to want to miss this.”
Bobbi Morse hated the feeling of cold wood flooring against the soles of her feet. It made the entirety of her shiver, waking her body up and shedding the last of the warmth she had from her shared bed. Her husband had suggested slippers, but they were always left in various places of the house. So she suffered at her own hand, even as she padded to the front door.
Day had barely broken, and a blue haze coated the dewed grass. There were birds at the feeder on the back porch and small paths in the condensation on the lawn from deer that had ventured too far from the edge of the surrounding woods. This, by all means, should be a peaceful morning.
But it wasn’t, because Clint fucking Barton had pulled the glass door back and started pounding on the wooden frame with such fervor that it made Bobbi’s jaw ache. She had thrown on her robe to conserve some warmth, but still felt too exposed in front of her ex-husband and Avenger.
She’d leveled him with a glare that could shatter glass, and he respectfully rushed out. “Bobbi, come on. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t an emergency.”
He had a point. It made her chest seize. They only had one thing in common these days, and it was you. Even then, he didn’t make a point of crashing into her new life. The life she preferred for the both of you. So, she stepped back and allowed him to scramble into the foyer with his musky, cold scent. Clint always smelled slightly like gunpowder and cinnamon despite choosing a more archaic weapon.
“Have you seen the news?”
“What? No, God, you woke me up.”
His eyes widened and he clumsily found his way to the living room, carding around in the couch cushions for the remote as if he lived here. He certainly didn’t, and Bobbi had to swallow back her white-hot anger at the familiarity of his movements.
Still, he navigated the technology surprisingly well and flicked on the television. The room filled with a pale blue light that made Bobbi’s eyes sting viciously. She blinked the moisture away and leaned over the back of the couch, the anxiety in the pit of her stomach starting to swirl.
You’d mentioned going to dinner last night with your girlfriend. Something that Eleanor Bishop had orchestrated. She’d nearly begged you not to go. You didn’t owe that woman anything. But you looked at Kate like she hung the moon and the stars, so there would be no talking you out of the event.
It was only on your way out the door that you slipped in Clint’s presence. The oak had slammed before Bobbi could protest, and even if she could, you were an adult. You were in love. If you saw it fit to establish a relationship with your biological father due to the proximity, then who was she to stop you?
Now, she wished she had because Clint was here, and you weren’t.
Bobbi’s stomach was empty, but she had the acute need to vomit as the words Breaking News flashed across the screen. They’d halted all other programming. She was certain that you were dead, and her fingers moved to the now cold spot on her cheek where your lips had hurriedly pressed in a loving goodbye.
Cindy Moon, reporter extraordinaire, was freshly dressed in her usual suited ensemble. She looked so put together, even for the special report. How could she look so calm? Rationally, Bobbi knew it was her job to do just that, but the ringing in her ears was starting to wash out every coherent thought.
“Word coming out of our own studio, and it seems, multiple stations across the state. Current Congress Candidate Lance Hunter has been issued a very public call to arms. This morning, a photo of his step-daughter Y/n Morse, has been released nationally. Due to the graphic nature of this photo, we here at NNC will not be showing the image.”
Bobbi was relying on the sofa to hold her up now. Her world tilted and she’d knowingly stopped breathing, curling her fingers into the rough fabric. Lance hadn’t woken up yet, and she knew the scream that threatened to bubble into her throat would do just that.
“The message was clear,” Cindy sadly continued “It’s up to Lance Hunter to make the next move, and follow the coordinates. We will continue to update the public on this matter. But for now, we encourage the general public to disregard the message and let law enforcement handle the matter.”
Let law enforcement handle it. Like the department has ever done one competent thing in their lives. She had faith in you. She’d trained you herself and with experts in her craft that had been hardened enough to impress her. But she worried for you like any mother did. It wafted from her in waves.
“Show me the photo.”
“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“You don’t get to come into my house and tell me what is or isn’t a good idea. The photo Clint.”
Her tone left no room for argument. His phone was comically bright, and she winced at the white light that leaked from the screen as he fumbled to get her request pulled up. She saw his shoulders tighten and his jaw clench when he got to where he wanted. Such small reactions that anyone normal wouldn’t realize his fear. But Bobbi wasn’t normal.
She grabbed the phone with one hand and pressed her cold fingers to her lips with another. Still, an involuntary groan escaped her throat. She’d read once that wolves howl despite danger when they feel the need to grieve at the horrors committed.
There was almost more blood and bruising than skin. Your head was dipped, so she couldn’t see your eyes but she prayed they still held life. You were strung up, clearly straining against your binds. The cuts in your chest made her own burn horribly. They’d beaten you savagely.
“What’s going on?” Lance had padded down the carpeted stairs, moving with the silence of a ghost. “Clint?”
Neither of them answered, so Lance flicked his gaze to the television, frowning when a headshot of himself was front and center. A photo of you and him slotted right next to it. It was your high school graduation, chords around your neck as you beamed with your diploma in hands. He stared at you in the photo as if you’d been elected president.
Lance tepidly took the device from Bobbi, who let it go without her usual fight. She’d fallen into his side, pressing her nose against his neck and letting her shoulders shake with silent sobs. His eyes misted over immediately, hand tightening around the phone.
Clint wasn’t expecting the hardness in his stare when he did finally lift his gaze. “This is for me.”
“They want you to go there.”
“I assume you’re coming with us.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“No,” Lance snarled with the ferocity of a wild animal scorned, moving his hand soothingly on his wife’s back. “She’s mine.”  
The hiss that pushed past your lips reminded you too much of letting the air out of a bike tire. It was a weak sound, and even as you moved in and out of consciousness, you resented the fact. If there were ever a time to be feeble, it was now.
The pain hit you before you fluttered your eyes open. They felt heavy, refusing to acknowledge the lack of adrenaline that you now held close to your chest. You registered the exhaustion in your bones, the ache in every part of your body where Tex had struck. He’d left small expanses unmarred, but anything that would show your bruising to the camera was hit with iron knuckles, with another lit cigarette or the tip of the caked blade.
Just like the woman in the mask, he’d soon grown bored of you. You were vaguely aware of being moved, being thrown into one of the cells that lined the walkway. There was no haste to pull yourself up, even if you were able to. You were shaking too much, and soon gave way to unconsciousness.
There wasn’t a way to tell how much time had passed, but when you startled awake and tried to sit up, you were met with quick resistance. You clenched your eyes shut until you saw stars, trying to sit up again, but being pushed down to a scratchy mattress by a hand.
You thought you were alone. The fight or flight kicked in and your eyes sprung open. You struggled against the hand, the touch that was so familiar but in the way that Kate’s eyes were on the balcony. You were breathing frantically, panting in fear.
“Hey, hey, hey” a raspy voice tried to soothe, but there was nothing soothing about being under someone’s hand without a proper way to move. You were sure you’d cracked a few ribs, and maybe even your jaw with that first, startling hit. “You need to relax, stop moving.”
Despite the growled warning, you turned your head and gaged the person who was so easily restraining you. Kate. Or maybe it wasn’t. You felt a shiver rock through your body at the sight of her. You didn’t trust what you were seeing, not right away. That had gotten you into deep, scalding water just the day before.
You were sprawled on a twin bed that rested on a metal frame. The mattress was stuffed with newspaper, crinkling with each shallow breath you took. It was the only accommodation in the dusty cell other than a tin bucket that you didn’t much care to think about.
Kate was in her tactical pants, pitch black and stained with dust. She wore a tank top that revealed yellowing bruises, lacerations that she had nursed the best she could. Nothing near what had been done to you, but it made your heart clench all the same. She’d been hurt, and you wanted to carve out the heart of whoever dared lay a hand on her.
A sad whimper escaped you and her hand stroked the side of your face as if it were habit. She’d taken her purple jacket from her shoulders and pressed it to the carved numbers against your chest, effectively staunching the blood. You were grateful for the act of kindness, for her warm touch.
“You’re okay, it’s okay.”
It most certainly was not okay, but the certainty in which she said it made you want to believe that it was. Her fingers brushed over your arms and any exposed skin that she could see. She assessed the wounds like she understood exactly where they were, making sure they hadn’t started to leak blood once more.
How long had she been here? You hadn’t reached out after your fight. There were clear lines drawn and you weren’t going to step over them. You felt a burst of relief when she’d texted you, demanding that you wear blue and show up on time to dinner. You had done both without question.
Kate must have sensed the questions brewing behind your stare. Her tender touch moved to your forehead, carding her fingers through your hair in a comforting gesture. The ghost of a smile on her face “Don’t think too hard, okay? I don’t know if you’re bleeding internally or not.”
Your pitiful chuckle turned into a cough, Kate’s expression dropping, filled with worry. She waited until you were done, rubbing small circles against your bare arm. You noticed the small split that seemed to keep reopening against her lip. The very one you’d clocked during your last real conversation.
You swiped your thumb gently across her cracked lips, frowning “You’re bleeding.”
She laughed wetly, dropping her head letting her tears fall. She’d grasped your nearest hand with both of hers, absently playing with your fingers, squeezing and holding them to make sure you were real. You wanted to embrace her, to quell her fears, her misery. But you couldn’t move more than an inch.
“I thought you were going to die,” Kate croaked out, not looking up. “I could hear everything, smell the blood, even from here. I was certain that with each hit, you wouldn’t wake up and we would leave things… we would leave them in that stupid alleyway.”
Your mouth was dry, throat burning. She gripped your hand harder to wash away her own trembling. You didn’t deserve her forgiveness, you knew that. But there was the pulled feeling that you needed her more than anything right now.
“I hid in the corner with my hands over my ears like a coward. I was certain that you’d die right past my reach and there was nothing I could do about it. That the very last image you would have of me, of us, was that horrible night.”
“Stop,” you begged in a broken voice, fingers brushing lightly against her jaw. Kate glanced up, static gray eyes rimmed in red. She swallowed hard and watched you carefully. “Katie, this is all my fault. All of it. I’ve spent years denying my emotions. It was going to blow up eventually. It was only a matter of time.”
You carefully started to sit up, she drew in a sharp breath and opened her mouth to object before snapping her jaw shut. You’d always been able to handle yourself, stubborn until the very end. You pressed your fingers into your ribs to quell the ache.
Carefully, you put your hands on either side of her cheeks, wiping away the dampness across the flushed expanse. She’d never let you hold her like this, but she melted into the touch with a starved sigh. She hiccupped, trying to catch her breath as she scrambled up onto the bed next to you, her arm flush against yours with a comforting heat.
“We’ll get out of this,” You leaned your forehead against her own. This time, it was you who desperately searched for a grounding factor in her hands, calloused from years of archery. “Even if it means just waiting.”
“God, we’re so bad at that.”
You were aware. Patience was not a virtue when it came to you, and certainly not when it came to Kate. Sitting still for the past week must have been enough of a torture for her before you got yourself thrown right in next to her. Brutally beaten and plaguing her with the mere sound of breaking bones and your screams of anguish.
Your body was starting to grow heavy, the mere pressure of Kate next to you, the evergreen scent of her, was enough to lull you into near sleep. Her arm was wrapped with yours, her cheek resting on your shoulder. You both were on alert for the sound of footsteps, but were only met with cicadas and bullfrogs.
“Y/n?”
“Hm?”
“What did she mean when she said you confessed your undying love?”
A groan rumbled through you and you clenched your eyes harder. How were you supposed to explain that you hadn’t noticed the woman next to you the whole night wasn’t your Kate. There were subtle mannerisms that gave her away, the more you scrutinized them.
The way she’d done her hair, the fidgeting with the gold bracelet. The defiance against Eleanor being so blatant. Kate would coyly roll her eyes, but not entertain anything her mother pushed. It had been different, sharper words and thicker movements. You were just so focused on your own turmoil to notice.
“Because I did.”
Kate frowned, pursing her lips into a straight line and staring at you with a glinting amount of question. Even under the washed-out yellow lights, she was beautiful. Breathtaking. Under her scrutiny, you shivered, aggravating the pain that wracked your body.
“She… looked like you. A carbon copy, and I… told her how I felt.”
“You’re in love with me?”
“Impossibly so.” A sad chuckle escaped you and you averted your gaze to the packed dirt floor. “Long before this whole charade. There’s a loving patience to you that no one has ever shown me before. You are impossible not to fall in love with, Kate Bishop.”
Silence was filled with your struggled breaths, fingers still pushing deep into your ribs to keep the ache from spreading. You sniffed, feeling a cold drip right beneath your nose. You weren’t expecting an answer. Too tired to fight for one.
Kate’s touch was softhearted, fingers brushing gently against your jaw and guiding your eyes to her own. They were glossy, tearful. “You absolute idiot. I knew from the second I saw you that you’d be the death of me.”
You scoffed at the irony of her statement. There was a blooming affection that ripped through you, much harder than the knife against your skin. Her expression was world-altering, earth-shattering and you nearly whimpered under her attention, no matter how sparing it was.
Her stare flicked to your lips, and you gave the slightest nod of confirmation. You’d kissed Kate before, usually open mouthed and in a rushed effort to fight for dominance with one another. But this was different. Her lips were soft, slightly-chapped from the cold. There was a metallic taste to you both, her movements methodic, calculated and full of care.
This time, you did whimper, more of a huff of pain. Her hand had brushed against your side, and the shooting discomfort was enough for you to pull back, if only slightly. Kate smiled guiltily against your lips, whispering apologies into your mouth.
“Lay down,” Kate purred.
You quirked a brow at her “Really? Right here?”
“Not like that. You’re clearly in pain. Lay down.”
She started to lead you onto your back with practiced ease before you could voice your protests (ones that included wanting to stay awake long enough to keep kissing her). You hissed, mumbling something along the lines of her being bossy, but you couldn’t deny the comfort that washed over you when you were finally situated.
Kate settled in next to you, slotting her leg carefully with yours and pressing flush against you, providing the comfort that you so desperately needed. Kate’s nose was cold against the naïve of your neck. An instant relief that quieted any lingering thoughts that would fight off sleep.
The next time you woke up, it wasn’t nearly as startled. Even if you had wanted to move quickly, you felt the twinge of your injuries prevent you from doing so. There was consistent pressure against your mostly bare chest, Kate’s hand had found purchase against the only unmarred part of your collarbone.
Her lips were parted and she let out soft breaths that tickled the small of your throat. You wondered when the last time she slept- really slept- was. She’d been here days, based on her bruising and her clothing that she was so willing to share to provide you with some decency.
“I’m rooting for the two of you.”
You stiffened, swallowing the groan of pain that struggled to rush to the surface. The voice, of course, was familiar and gravelly and filled you with white hot anger. It was the woman in the gold mask. Hardley cost effective and taunting you behind it.
She was standing on the other side of the cell, watching both you and Kate like viewing animals in a zoo. She’d even tossed a greasy bag of fast food through the gaps in the iron. You hated that your mouth filled with saliva at the charcoal scent.
You’d picked at a salad for dinner, and had even thrown up the one cherry tomato you’d managed to consume during Tex’s brutal work. “A peace offering.”
“An olive branch.” You could hear the smirk in your voice. “You might not believe this, y/n but I mean you no harm.”
You leveled her with an acidic glare that could melt the very bars that contained you. It softened when Kate let out a small grumble in her sleep and burrowed closer. She was like a little space heater, nearly to the point of a fever. She had always run hot, just like you.
“No further harm. I could have easily killed you, or your little bird. But I haven’t, so a little trust would be appreciated.”
“If you’re hoping for some sort of Stockholm syndrome, keep holding your breath, lady.”
The stranger shrugged her shoulders and watched the two of you with deadened eyes that made you squirm. You stayed put, partly out of pain and partly because the worst thing you could do right now was stir the sleeping archer in your arms.
So, you whispered, “If you wanted Clint, why not pump him full of sedatives at the dinner table? This seems like an awful amount of work for someone sitting across from you, sipping wine.”
“That washed up Avenger? Please. We don’t want Clint. We want Lance.” She hauled herself onto a large barrel across from the cell, crossing her legs at the ankles. It was a bitter attempt at sprucing up the place. “You said it yourself at dinner, Clint isn’t your father. In fact, I feel kind of bad for you. A dad that won’t give you a second glance, a girl who only entertained your love to piss him off? You have every right to hate him.”
You made a noise in the back of your throat and flopped your head back onto the flat pillow. The ceiling was a nice wooden structure, maybe apart of the original structure. You didn’t need her pity, but it still settled the slightest bit of comfort in your stomach.
You’d ran out of your ability to be tactful someone between the tenth and Eleventh blow to your abdomen. “If you’re looking for ransom, you won’t get much. All of our wealth has been pumped into the campaign.”
“I don’t want money, though, that would be an added benefit. I’m simply helping. What’s a better and more heartfelt story than a candidate saving his poor, inhuman daughter?” She pouted behind her mask, tilting her head at an angle. “It’ll be media gold. It’ll catapult is numbers.”
“I’m sorry, you want Lance to win?”
“Someone does, and they were willing to pay a lot of money to get you here.”
A breath escaped you, one that you tried to stop from shaking. That could be the design of anyone, including your own parents. You wouldn’t be shocked if Eleanor Bishop had stuck her hand into the kidnapping plot. But that also begged the question of who was powerful enough to orchestrate something like this?
“Keep your strength up,” The masked woman hopped from the barrel, “We wouldn’t want you to die in here, now, would we?”
She walked away on surprisingly light feet. They didn’t stir the gravel like Tex’s did. You knew your heart was pounding harder from the interaction, the planned admissions that were just another form of torture. She could be lying. You hoped she was lying.
Kate was drooling under the heavy hand of sleep. You couldn’t help the small smile that fought through your confusion, your pain. She really could sleep anywhere, and you envied her in moments like these. Your body had given in to the exhaustion earlier, but now, you were left with your thoughts and her distant snores.
Your hand closed over hers, playing with her fingers absently as you carded through every single person who may have a problem with your family. The list was long, but there was a shorter list of people who wanted Lance to win.
He’d resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t, and that had been an odd strategy for you at first. Near the start of his campaign, you’d have trouble getting to sleep unless you were in your childhood bedroom, close to the people who loved and cared about you.
Even then, you’d find yourself in the living room with Lance. He watched old westerns when he couldn’t drift off and you had taken to joining him every once and awhile. He told you then, that he didn’t think he would win.
“I don’t get it. Why run at all, then?”
“People are stuck in their ways, sometimes it takes more than one election to change things like that. They’re not used to Inhumans, not like we are. But we’ll change their minds, even if it’s slowly. They’ll learn to love just like we do.”
You’d grown tired throughout the latter half of the 1952 movie ‘High Noon’. Gary Colemans southern, gravelly voice lulled you to sleep that night with your cheek on Lance’s shoulder, the scent of his aftershave coating your throat and your lungs. You never knew if he’d succumbed that night, but you knew that it was the safest you’ve ever felt.
The idea that he would sway the election with a fake kidnapping was out of the question. Because he didn’t care if he won. He’d only ever cared that he changed the world in a good way, one that would cut the sideways looks you got in half.
“Mm, you should be resting.” Kate’s sleepy demands pulled you from your thoughts, her voice vibrating against the side of your throat. You subconsciously pulled her closer, making sure she was comfortable on the sliver of a twin bed. “Cheeseburger?”
“That’s what woke you?”
“No, your thoughts are loud.”
She nipped lightly at your sensitive skin, soothing it with a kiss almost as quickly as she’d created the subtle sting. It was relaxing, a show of affection that spread warmth to your stomach. You wanted to wake up next to Kate Bishop every single day for the rest of your life. Just not in a dirty cell.
The distinct lack of emotion in Eleanor Bishop’s eyes worried Bobbi more than anything else she had seen today. She had seen a lot. A startling amount that had numbed her to a state of shaking paleness. There was no comfortable piece of furniture in this penthouse and that aggravated her all the more.
They’d been intercepted by law enforcement before they could do anything shy of putting on real clothes before being herded like livestock to the Bishop’s residence.  At first, Bobbi had chalked it up to them owning a security company, maybe they had ties to other agencies.
But, they were soon informed that Kate had vanished too and Eleanor was just so beside herself, she couldn’t fathom travel. Her cheeks were red, flushed with emotion, but her eyes remained deadened. Bobbi had to clutch an ugly throw pillow to ground herself.
“Right now, we suggest you do nothing.”
“Do… nothing?” Lance was pacing behind the sofa, trying to breathe in as much outside air from the propped open storm doors as possible. “Forgive me Detective North but that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“We don’t believe that they’re going to do anything further to harm your daughter, but there is a very real possibility that all of this is a ploy to kill you. So yes, Mr. Hunter, we expect you to wait here while we execute the rescue.”
She was a hard woman with sharp eyes that could cut through solid ice to expose a soft underbelly. Bobbi supposed that she had to be in her line of work. In any other situation she would have applauded her finality. Her tenderness. But this was different.
Bobbi held her tongue. She didn’t make it known, and wouldn’t, that she was Mockingbird. The police force didn’t’ actively endorse vigilantes and stumbling out that she was much more competent than anyone they could send in for a rescue would lead to more trouble.
As if sensing her distress, Lance put an assured hand on her shoulder. The former SHIELD agents were getting older and the novelty had long since worn off. You, on the other hand, had a long career ahead of you as Firecrest. The media was meant to believe that you were an innocent, politicians daughter with a bit of a wild streak. Maybe they should do nothing.
“And what of Katherine?” Eleanor forced a hiccup, gently patting below her eye with a dry tissue that stayed dry. “Have there been any demands?”
Detective North frowned down at her notepad “No, I’m afraid not. We’ve heard nothing. They both seemed normal at dinner last night?”
“We’ve been through this!” Clint shouted in a sudden outburst. He’d remained silent by the bar, only losing his composure when his protégé was brought up, he sighed, softening. “Y/n left to get some fresh air and Kate followed her. We didn’t see or hear anything else.”
“It didn’t cause any concern when neither of them returned?”
“Katherine barely regards me as it is.” Eleanor waved off, suddenly dry-eyed once more. “I learned a long time ago that it’s easier to avoid fights that will get me nowhere. I figured that the two of them retreated somewhere they were more comfortable.”
Bobbi hated to agree with Eleanors logic, but could see where she was coming from. Kate was difficult, but only with her mother. She matched the energy that was given and Bobbi had always respected her at a silent distance for that. Little acts of rebellion made life livable.
Her voice pinched and she clutched the tissue “You’re telling me… she could be dead?”
“We’re not telling you anything, Mrs. Bishop. We’re trying to figure out everything that we can before entering an uncontrolled situation.”
“All you need to know is that our daughter is gone and if you don’t send someone in there to get her in the next hour, I’ll do it myself.” Bobbi hissed.
“Right… Well.” Detective North was disturbed by the impassioned anger in Bobbi’s voice, the venom in her eyes. She cleared her throat and stood. “Like I said, stay here. We’ll post a uniform outside of the door. No one in or out. I’ll be in touch.”
She pocketed her notebook and left before any further questions could be asked. Bobbi didn’t understand. They knew where you were, it would be simple to retrieve you and treat your wounds and make sure that you were still alive and breathing. That you were okay.
Eleanor stood from her seat next to Bobbi and poured herself a drink, straight vodka that looked more like a crisp drink of water. She swallowed it without making a face before she moved to pour herself another one but stopped her slender fingers short of the cap. “I knew this was a horrible idea.”
“What was?” Bobbi croaked out.
“Our children seeing one another. Everything was fine until Katherine started making heart eyes at your arsonist.”
“The last I checked, they’re both adults.” Lance said through gritted teeth. “They can make their own choices and have done so for the past decade without incident.”
She laughed dryly “Without incident? Y/n nearly destroyed a historic building with a couple of matches. Do you know why she did that? It certainly wasn’t at the behest of my Katherine.”  
“That’s enough.” Clint silenced the room. He’d fallen back into his quiet contemplation after his outburst with Detective North. “This isn’t helping anything.”
“You’re right.” Her eyes narrowed “aren’t you a superhero? Can’t you suit up in your spandex and retrieve my daughter and your discarded one?”
Nothing more could be said. She’d effectively taken all the oxygen out of the room. Eleanor unscrewed the cap of the vodka and poured herself a heavy-handed second helping before flopping back down into her spot. She’d had too much to drink, but Bobbi wasn’t about to point that out, nor was she going to stop her.
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unknowns-musical · 2 months ago
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Okay, starting off this is gonna be my little brain dump for how I think the trains are made in this universe. So, prepare for a lot of text and silly scribbles. If you make it to the end, I'm gonna explain why I first came up with this idea and that it links to Hermes and his past.
To start off with, the trains are toys they can't be born but made. Even as toys, Control sees them as real trains/people, meaning that they have to be made in his world and not just in the real world as their toy forms. But, since he sees them as people that also means they can age and I do believe this is a thing considering Momma, Poppa and og Belle are older than the rest of them, and have a history from when they were younger. If any of you know transformers, I'm basically gonna describe cold constructs in my way.
The first step is to make a base form of what kind of engine or car you want. A simple frame work that contains their internal structure that holds their power source and lets them keep their form. In a way like their version of a skeleton, organs and muscles. You want to make an engine? Their chest would contain the engine part, and the rest is spread out under their "skin". For a freight or coach? They still have a power source, only it's smaller as to make room for their original purpose to hold/carry things or people in their chest cavities.
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This is just a rough idea of what they would look like in my head. Kinda like a puppet, a basic form that can be changed and molded to what they're being made for.
However, in this state they are just lifeless, an empty shell of what they should be. So, to give them life they need a spark to give them life. That power that the engines have the strength and speed to race, that power that gives the Freights and Coaches that energy to do what they need to do. That spark is shared to give these base forms life.
The spark doesn't always work though, it won't give these base forms life if they were made incorrectly most of the time or if the user is incapable of sharing the spark in some shape or another. Be that age, an injury, or a fault in their own system.
If they spark can be shared then it is a race to finish the base form before difficulties arise. The spark not only gives them life, but the last bit of energy needed to finish the outside of the body. An outer shell that can fuse to their form, that gives them protection and allows them to grow as they get older. Giving them an overall human appearance, which varies on what you make. A Steamer needs a form of chimney or vent to let their smoke and stream out. The electrics need extra padding to prevent themselves from shocking others on accident and prevent rain from getting into their systems. Diesels need several vents to let out their smoke like steamers, but also a large room to for their internal controls and to monitor their engine, as well as store their oil.
The energy is used up at this point to finish off the form and give them life, creating a child of a varying age depending on how old they were designed to be. Usually they're about six to eight, sometimes older if they're in a rush for them to get to work faster since they have less time to reach that maturity. But creating them younger is overall more beneficial as it gives them more time to learn about the world and develop properly.
Now we're onto why I created this idea and how it links to Hermes. His backstory is very basic: he was found as a toddler by CB who was a child at that point and was adopted into the family since he looked similar to him and CB wanted a little brother. That lead me to thinking about his backstory more... If the trains are created, then like a birth certificate they would have a certificate of manufacturing. Saying who made them, where and what their original purpose was. What kind of train or car they are, so in future if they had to be converted they could convert them without harm.
Yet no one knows who made Hermes or where he was made they have no where nearby that a child like this could come from, which gave me the idea of what if he wasn't complete? If he wasn't complete, then he wouldn't have a certificate of manufacturing, meaning something happened that stopped his creator from finishing him and somehow got separated once he gained consciousness. But if he wasn't finished, no one knows what he was meant to be so the Freights, and their guardians attempted to finish him without knowing what he was. So, the body he has when he is older isn't his true form.
Now, I will say who made him and what he was meant to be but no one in the yard knows. Og Caboose was his creator, his father and by default Hermes was meant to also be a Caboose like his dad and technically his bio brothers as well. What stopped him from fully finishing Hermes I don't know, I have yet to decide. Despite being incomplete being a Mail Freight in a sense is close enough to his original purpose. He carries both people and mail, for long journeys and travels a lot.
Now, being incomplete I had the idea that the extra energy that was meant to be used to finish off his form never left. It was meant to be used up before he gained sentience, but it was never used up, so instead it stays with him. That energy is why he is always energetic and why he is so fast, even faster than the engines.
As a byproduct it creates two issues: he rarely gets tired and he wears out his parts faster then everyone else. With all that extra energy, it's hard for him to get tired in general so he has to work twice as hard and twice as long just to tire himself out enough to sleep. Then we have the wearing out his parts faster than the others, being on wheels more often his wheels and pistons are gonna wear down from over use. Easy enough to replace and fix, but annoying to deal with since it means he needs more medical attention compared to others.
That's everything I have so far and thank you for reading this if you made it all the way through!!
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