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hollowtones · 9 months

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first yiik impressions?

Hi. Thanks for your message. I've been thinking about this for days. I wrote paragraphs. Here you go!

Everyone talks up how the game is bad, but I've never looked into it much myself, so I went in with an expectation along the lines of "people whose opinions I often agree with think it was an awful mess, I'll likely think something similar". Expectations were low. Even then I wasn't really ready.

"YIIK" is a game of tedium. I don't think it's a game about tedium, that's something different (though it could be, if it was a different video game altogether; "what if the world was made of pudding" etc). To some degree I think the tedium is by design but I'm not really sure what it's in service of.

I don't think tedium in a video game is a bad thing. "Morrowind" and "Breath of the Wild" are two video games I like very much, and some of my favourite memories of those games are of slowly wandering through empty expanses, or having to suddenly deal with equipment degrading or supplies dwindling because I forgot to prepare. Moments like that feel thoughtful! They're interesting moments of reprieve or of tension that feel thoughtfully and intentionally designed! "YIIK" feels like trudging through chest-deep molasses so it can shout "hey did you know you're stuck in my molasses right now? that's weird, why are you stuck in my molasses right now? did you notice?" directly into your ear.

You'll notice this is a pattern.

Combat is turn-based and involves completing little minigames, timing button prompts or hitting targets or some such. It's a cute idea that wears out its welcome when you start realizing how long every single one takes to resolve, especially when you have multiple party members, and sometimes multiple enemies (I'm told this part specifically gets more egregious as the game goes on). I don't think it's awful or unsalvageable but I'm not super into it as of the point we're at.

This is a pattern.

Leveling up is a manual process that you have to unlock, and it involves going to a save point (any save point? we didn't check), to enter the Mind Dungeon, to enter the actual Mind Dungeon, to walk down a set of stairs and enter individual doors one-by-one, so that you can choose how you want to allocate stat increases, so that you can walk down a different set of stairs to commit your choices and spend your banked experience to level up. I think "you can only power up at specific points / times / locations" and the granularity of stat growth are interesting ideas, and the environment they made for it are a charming idea, and I don't think it needed to be a "Hotel Mario" level that you had to slowly walk through. It could have been a menu. They could have used the resources for a nice background or backdrop for a menu that accomplishes the same thing.

This is a pattern.

I haven't really mentioned anything about the story or writing yet. The protagonist's name is Alex and he's a very self-important nerdy misanthropic dickhead white man (a very specific kind of guy that I've definitely met at least once or twice) who is obsessed with a paranormal message board populated by people like him and desperate to find out more about the disappearance of a woman he witnessed. (The woman & her disappearance are based on the real life death of Elisa Lam & aren't handled with a whole lot of tact, IMO, but other people have put this into better words than I can right now. It sucks. It keeps coming up and it makes me bristle every time.) Alex is a bad person. I know he is. You know he is. The game knows he is. I've seen some reviews say a negative point of the game is "the main characters aren't likeable", which I don't really get, because that's the point of the characters, as far as I can tell. The issue, then, is how much time the game takes to exposit at you how bad the characters are. It's exhausting. Every time Alex has a monologue, it feels like it sums up to 10 minutes of "I am a bad person. I am a bad person. Alex is a bad person. This character is a bad person. Do you get it? He's a bad person. Alex is a bad person. Do you understand yet, player? Alex is a bad person. You should know that he's a bad person. Do you get it?"

This is a pattern.

(I don't know how interested I am in bringing up the game's lead writer right now, if at all, but there's a well-known anecdote where he talks about wanting to write a story about a bad person who is forced to grapple with himself and do better, and how the reason why his game wasn't well-received was because people who play video games didn't get it & weren't ready for a story like that. I dunno. I can understand being upset about negative reception to something you poured time and sweat into, and saying something hasty because of it. "Final Fantasy 4" is a beloved RPG classic, though, and "Disco Elysium" came out the same year to overwhelming praise. I haven't played either of these yet, though, so I'll admit maybe I'm off the mark here.)

The characters we've met so far (i.e. the ones that aren't unnamed NPCs) are… well. There's a smarmy younger kid who idolizes(?) Alex & also made the aforementioned paranormal website. So far it seems like he mostly exists to go "hey fuck you Alex, you dickhead" and immediately say something even more insensitive. There's the insensitive based-on-a-real=ass-dead-woman elevator woman, who immediately disappeared from the narrative while still being an essential part of the narrative. There was a dead(?) robot in a bedroom, who had a choir of ominous hooded people monologue about how weird and sad and strange and uncanny the scene is. What the!? There's a woman who works at the arcade and has Powers. Her design's cute. (I feel like, generally, the game's visuals are Fine. The audio, too. That all ranges from Just Fine to Surprisingly Neat. I don't really have much issue with those aspects of the game, but I don't have much to say about them either.) Alex and Kid Whose Name I Didn't Care To Remember are constantly very uncomfortable to her, because she's a woman and because she isn't white, in the 15 or so minutes we've seen her on-screen, and she gets to tell them off, but then immediately kind of goes "well whatever I can smile and put up with this and hang out with you". It feels misogynistic. I know to some degree Alex is misogynistic on purpose, because the game is bludgeoning your skull in and yelling "ALEX IS SHITTY TO WOMEN! AND PEOPLE OF COLOUR! DO YOU GET IT? HE'S SELF ABSORBED IN A SHITTY WAY! DO YOU GET IT, PLAYER? YOU UNDERSTAND THAT ALEX SUCKS ASS YET? MAYBE 10 MORE MINUTES OF THIS WILL MAKE IT CLICK?" But for a woman of colour (the only one we've seen so far who isn't Probably Just Dead) to finally tell him off for being a shithead, only to turn around and go "well it's ok, you're cool now, let's hang out now because it's narratively convenient and you're the protagonist" is pretty damn egregious!

This is a pattern.

Writing in general feels stilted and long-winded. Most of the main characters feel like they don't talk like people do. Alex gets to feel like a person but that's mostly because he gets to talk to himself so damn much. Most of his monologues feel like overly flowery prose, like someone padded it out with identical adjectives to meet a school essay word count. There's an interesting idea or premise or setpiece every now and then. There's a spark. A glint of something compelling. Every single time this has happened so far I find it immediately snuffed out by an over-blown "oh my god!!!!!!! how weird!!!!!!', or a very long plot dump, or a Joss Whedon-ass quip. There can be no small moment of joy. No story element or visual element can stand on its own legs. There can be no room for ideas to breathe. No space for the player to wonder, to dream, to play in the space. The narrative is compelled to suffocate iself on itself, to take up all space, to swallow itself whole in its making. One very minor (so far?) side character has some interesting dialogue in this one dream world, and I think "oh that's neat", and then I learn they're lines taken wholesale from a book (and I think that's fine, reference is fine, but I have a bit of a chuckle over the fact that this character is the reason why the game has a giant REFERENCES option in the main menu). The literal first minute of the game is a bird telling you "oh my god, the title of this game, right? why'd they spell it like that? so fucking dumb, am I right!" It feels insecure. It reads like the writing has no confidence in itself. It has to make a comment about how silly and video-gamey it is, roll its eyes at itself, mock itself for the thing it's doing while continuing to do it without addressing it or discussing it or doing anything with it.

This is a pattern.

There's a specific part of "YIIK", at this early point in the game (we're only around the start[?] of chapter 2), that feels emblematic of the thing as a whole up to this point. Alex is getting phone calls from a stranger. They're confusing and weird and sound a little like something you might hear in a dream. They make references to some shared past, some childhood, some understanding of Alex, or maybe of you, the player. They've come up a few times. Every single time, I'm left thinking about what it could mean, how it fits in with everything we've seen so far & what the game seems to be talking about, with regards to connecting to other people and to yourself. It's a neat little thing. It's a neat idea. I'm charmed by it. As much as my thoughts on this game are largely negative, I still try to look at it fairly, to understand it, to talk about it, to let myself be surprised by it. As soon as I find myself thinking about this, my thoughts are immediately drowned out by Alex telling me how weird the phone call is, how random and uncanny and dumb this is, and how he's rolling his proverbial eyes about it, in spite of all the other paranormal happenings around him, for another period of Just Too Long. And I am sapped of all strength and I crumble to dust.

I'm genuinely transfixed. I'm transfixed! Maybe the fact that I wrote Paragraphs about the 4-or-5 hours I've seen of the game can tell you as much, even if you skip everything I wrote in them.

I can't wait to see more.

This, too, is a pattern.

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kpanniversary · 1 year

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Hello KinnPorsche fans!

To celebrate the 1 year anniversary of KinnPorsche: the Series, starting from the beginning of April, we’ll be hosting an event to show our appreciation for this show! There will be 14 prompts running across 14 weeks - one prompt a week, every week, beginning on April 2nd (exactly one year after the show started airing)!

We’ve decided to do 2 sets of prompts: one with more specific prompts aimed towards graphics/gifsets, and one with looser prompts aimed towards fics, but you can pick from either list, or mix and match to your hearts content! You can participate in as many or as few prompts as you’d like, and you can, of course, make multiple gifs/edits/fics for the same prompt - the main thing is to have fun.

You can tag your creations with #kpappreciation if you’d like us to see them! We also have a KPAnniversary collection on AO3 to make fics easier to find and share. Have fun, and happy creating!

Prompt list one:

week 1 (april 2 - april 9): favourite main character(s)

week 2 (april 10 - april 16): favourite supporting character(s)

week 3 (april 17 - april 23): favourite outfit(s)

week 4 (april 24 - april 30): favourite romantic relationship(s)

week 5 (may 1st - may 7th): favourite platonic relationship(s)

week 6 (may 8th - may 14th): favourite quote(s)

week 7 (may 15th - may 21st): favourite location(s)

week 8 (may 22nd - may 28th): favourite antagonist/villain(s)

week 9 (may 29th - june 4th): favourite scene(s)

week 10 (june 5th - june 11th): weapon(s)

week 11 (june 12th - june 18th): favourite trope(s)

week 12 (june 19th - june 25th): underrated moment(s)

week 13 (june 26th - july 2nd): favourite behind the scenes/tour moment(s)

week 14 (july 3rd - july 9th): free choice! feel free to make anything you like!

Prompt list two:

week 1 (april 2 - april 9): beginning

week 2 (april 10 - april 16): phoenix

week 3 (april 17 - april 23): confession

week 4 (april 24 - april 30): power

week 5 (may 1st - may 7th): guilt

week 6 (may 8th - may 14th): growth

week 7 (may 15th - may 21st): sins

week 8 (may 22nd - may 28th): music

week 9 (may 29th - june 4th): ghost

week 10 (june 5th - june 11th): sacrifice

week 11 (june 12th - june 18th): love

week 12 (june 19th - june 25th): family

week 13 (june 26th - july 2nd): truth

week 14 (july 3rd - july 9th): free choice! feel free to make anything you like!

#kinnporsche #kpappreciation #kinnporche the series #kpts #kpedit #kinnporscheedit #asiandramasource #asianlgbtqdramas #just tagging a few blogs to spread the word! please dont feel pressured to reblog and/or participate if you don't want to!#tonanons #userjaehwany #samblr #userkinnporsche #userspicy #userjap #usermor #userkimchi #ours #prompts

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marvelmusing · 11 months

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Like A Diamond

Part of the Glitter & Gold AU

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (featuring Zoyalai and GenyaxDavid)

Summary: Every one of Aleksander’s closest friends has at least one Morozov diamond. He gifts you one which then prompts an official initiation into Ravka’s most exclusive group of socialites.

Warnings [18+]: smut, oral (fem receiving), exhibitionism and voyeurism (Nikolai & Zoya play with the reader whilst their friends watch), soft dom!Nikolai & Zoya, consensual sharing of explicit videos and photos, praise kink, masturbation, nipple play, non-piercing nipple rings, hint of pain kink.

My Masterlist

Every one of Aleksander’s closest friends has at least one Morozov diamond.

His grandfather had not only been the founder of the company Aleksander now owns, but he had also been one of Ravka’s most influential explorers and inventors. He had located one of the country’s largest natural diamond deposits which had set the foundation for the Morozov brand.

Now, almost every celebrity worldwide wants one of Aleksander’s pieces. Very few people can afford to have such a luxurious item in their jewellery box, and he is very selective about who can be seen wearing his designs publicly. But, of course, if Aleksander values you he won’t be able to resist staking his claim on you through a gift of glistening diamonds.

Genya has a pair of earrings. Sparkling silver studs comprised of three teardrop-shaped diamonds stacked on top of one another to curve over the slope of her earlobe. She wears them on special occasions. Dinners and galas and parties, whenever she needs a reminder she’s appreciated. She and Aleksander have a close bond and his gifts are amongst her most valued possessions.

David has a simple pendant necklace with a small diamond at the centre. He wears it almost always since he likes the comforting weight of it and has a habit of loosening the chain from underneath his shirt to fidget with the expensive gem, twirling it with his fingers whenever he’s nervous. Genya thinks the habit is endearing, especially since the necklace was a wedding gift from Aleksander.

Nikolai has a ring. Thick metal, with a flattened centre that sits on his knuckle, where a Morozov diamond sits alongside his initials engraved there - NN. Nikolai Nazyalensky. He keeps it on his pinkie finger as a replacement for the Lantsov signet ring that he threw away when he became estranged from the rest of his family.

Zoya has a necklace which traces down her figure into a body chain. The thin shining strand of metal falls between her breasts, where a cluster of diamonds sit on her cleavage before splitting into two chains that hang around her waist meeting again at the small of her back. The piece is a pretty addition to Zoya’s tightest dresses and her favourite sets of lingerie.

Alina has more pieces of jewellery than she can keep track of. Glimmering rings, beautiful earrings, necklaces and chokers, glistening bracelets. One night, when the two of you are drunk and giggly, she starts whispering filthy words into your ear, telling you everyone’s deepest secrets. She takes your hand, sliding it into her panties so that you can feel where her Morozov diamond presses against her clit.

When you join the group, they all exchange knowing glances when Aleksander helps you into your coat after dinner or places his hand on your lower back as he steers you through the crowd towards the rest of the group at a gala. They all tease you good-naturedly, telling you that it’s only a matter of time before you get your own diamond.

Alina smiles widely when she sees her husband working on a particular design, sitting in his lap to offer him some company while he draws out something special.

Then one evening you and Aleksander are working late in your office, passing sketches between one another and comparing notes for your designs in preparation for your new collection.

“I have something for you,” he says quietly.

When you see him reaching for his coat pocket, pulling out a small velvet box embossed with a very familiar logo, your stomach flips.

“Aleksander, I hope you know you don’t ever have to give me anything.”

He nods.

“I know.” He opens up the box, nudging it towards you. “But I crafted this one myself.”

Aleksander doesn’t make many pieces by hand anymore, given that he has a company to run and a whole team of people to craft his designs for him instead.

“I thought long and hard about what piece you would like.”

As your eyes flicker down to the contents of the box, the breath catches in your throat. His thumb strokes the underside of your breast. Arousal stirs in your stomach, thrumming down between your thighs.

Slowly, you trace your fingertips over the edge of the box, the velvet smooth against your skin. There’s two small silver pieces, decorated with tiny diamonds cut perfectly to line the outside of the thin curves of metal. The shape of the rings themselves loop in elegant circles, so that they look like daisies.

“Are these…?”

Aleksander continues to stroke your breast, his fingers seeking your clothed nipple, hidden by the fabric of your shirt. Once he finds it, he rolls it slowly between his finger and thumb, pinching lightly.

“I wasn’t sure if you had them pierced or not,” he muses quietly, continuing his gentle touches. “Regardless, I thought it best to give you something easy to wear.”

The thought of having those rings, that Aleksander created himself for you, pinching lightly at your nipples all day has your eyes fluttering closed with need. He takes your silence for hesitation.

“I can turn one of them into a charm for a necklace if you would prefer.”

You shake your head immediately.

“No. They’re beautiful.”

He gestures lightly towards the loose collar of your shirt which reveals your cleavage.

“May I?”

You nod.

He loosens your shirt from the waistband of your trousers, unbuttoning the piece of clothing slowly and pushing the fabric aside to reveal your bare chest. He hums quietly in approval, his voice a low murmur that sends a thrill down your spine as he stares at your nipples.

“Look at that, milaya, all perked up and pretty for me already.”

A burning flush rushes over your skin, warming your cheeks before it spreads down your neck as you glance down at your breasts.

He takes one of the rings from the box, cupping your breast with his other hand. Even though your nipple is already hardened in anticipation, he rolls it between his fingers gently, encouraging it to stiffen further.

“Good girl.”

It’s difficult to not whimper aloud at his praise. He slots the ring onto your nipple, cool metal encircling the bud. There’s a firm pinch at first and you squirm at the sensation, though it softens rather quickly into something more pleasurable - a soft pressure that has you shifting your thighs to seek some friction.

“A perfect fit,” he observes, the corner of his mouth twitching.

He pinches your other nipple hard and there’s no stopping the whimper from escaping your lips this time. A wide smile spreads over his face as he slots the next ring onto your nipple, watching your chest heave as the metal clings to your hardened nub.

The sight of your breasts, areolae adorned with pretty circles of silver in a floral shape, pinched nipples in the place of the flower head, sends a heavy flood of arousal to your cunt. Certain that your panties are soaked, you bite down on your lower lip, gripping to the sides of your seat.

Aleksander’s eyes are darkened as he stares at your breasts, a glimmer of pride in the depths of his gaze. He hooks a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes up to meet his directly.

“How do they feel? Not too tight?”

“Good,” you say with a sigh. “They’re so good. I love them.”

He hums in acknowledgement, stroking his knuckles along your jawline.

“Ensure you take them out before going to bed.”

You nod.

He cups your breast, thumb brushing over your pinched nipple. Shifting your thighs once again, your eyes flutter closed as he stands. A whine claws at your throat, grip tightening on your seat as he shrugs on his coat.

“Aleksander,” you say quietly, your voice an almost pathetic whimper.

The temptation to grab his hand and press it against your clothed cunt is almost too much to bear. Embarrassment prickles over your cheeks at the thought of grinding weakly against his hand, begging for him to touch you. He cups your face with both of his hands, bringing you close for him to press his lips tenderly against your forehead.

“Send me a message when you arrive home safely.” The nod you give him in response is jerky. “And send Alina a video of whatever you do to satisfy yourself tonight.”

You do as he says.

As soon as you get home, your fingers fumble over the screen of your phone, typing out a message for Aleksander as you tuck your shoes away. He responds within a minute, praising you for following his instruction and reminding you of what else he had asked of you. That is all the incentive you need.

Bag and coat left abandoned in the hallway, you move up the stairs into your bedroom and collapse onto the rug between your bed and wardrobe. Once you’ve managed to prop your phone up against your wardrobe door, you begin removing more of your clothing.

Fingers shaking with anticipation, you slide down the zipper of your trousers, allowing the smooth fabric to drop down your legs. After Aleksander had left your office, you had only managed to button up a small portion of your shirt, hands still shaky with adrenaline.

Without too much preparation, you press on the record button and allow the camera of your phone to capture your need-fuelled actions.

The mess in your panties would be embarrassing if you weren’t so aroused by the sight of your slick clinging to the delicate lace, knowing that if Aleksander had slipped his hand beneath your waistband the same mess would have coated his fingers. His long nimble fingers.

It can’t be a very alluring video. But you’re too overcome by need to do anything but arch your back into the side of your bed, fingers reaching up to grasp at your covers as your other hand rubs frantically at your dripping cunt.

Any technique that you’ve gained from learning what your body likes has been abandoned as you mindlessly press your fingertips hard against your clit in eager circles. Gasps and cries of their names escape from your lips even when you grit your teeth as you writhe on your bedroom floor.

The nipple rings Aleksander had created for you glisten in the low light of your lamp as they remain firmly attached to the hardened nub of your nipples. The metal is no longer cool, warmed by the heat of your body, but the subtle pressure of the jewellery against your skin, a gentle tug on your sensitive nipples, has your arousal skyrocketing.

Thoughts of both Aleksander and Alina fill your mind, imagining her fingers rubbing sloppy circles over your clit while he holds your waist still to prevent you from squirming.

Their breathing heavy against your neck as they press kisses there, unable to pull themselves away from you to breathe properly. Alina mouthing over your throat and collarbone, delicate lips pressing firmly as she sucks blooming marks there. The scrape of Aleksander’s facial hair against your cheek, his teeth dragging over your jawline and nipping at your earlobe. Hot mouths. Eager tongues. Sweat rolling down between your breasts. Cunt tightening, a steady beat of pleasure, climbing higher with every drag of friction against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The climax that hits you has stars sparkling behind your closed eyelids, pleasure thrumming beneath your skin. As you slump your head back against your bed, pressing your face into the curve of your arm, a greedy urge tugs at your hand, as your body perks up again at the prospect of another orgasm.

Squeezing your eyes shut tighter, your sighs and moans become whinier, higher in pitch as your fingers chase your next climax. Curses, pleas, whimpers of their names, they all tumble from your lips, merging together into an almost incoherent mess. You end up hiding your face into the crook of your elbow, biting down on the flesh there to quieten your desperate noises.

Unbelievably quickly, you feel your body stumbling towards the edge of your pleasure, teetering on the precipice of another dizzying climax. The moan that shudders through your body is obscene, your breathy gasps borderline pornographic as you whimper their names one final time as your cunt clenches frantically around nothing.

With shaking hands, you stop the recording and send the footage without any hesitation. There’s no reply from Alina, though you aren’t too conscious of it as you clean yourself up in the bathroom and slip under your bedcovers.

Head still fuzzy with pleasure, you’re dozing lightly when there’s a soft ping that rouses you from the haze in your mind. Blinking sleepily, you reach for your phone, unlocking it and clicking on Alina’s message.

“For fuck’s sake,” you whine, dropping your face down into your pillow.

Taking the image itself into account, it’s more likely that Aleksander had sent the photo, and the response to your video has need blooming in your abdomen once again. What a vicious cycle. Very briefly, you contemplate slipping a hand down to touch yourself again.

The photo is taken from Aleksander’s point of view, as he sinks his cock into Alina’s cunt. A thick ring of arousal is coating his length, smearing messily over both of their thighs. From the soaked state of Alina, he must have been teasing her while you were recording your video for them. Unable to fashion any sort of response, you simply stare at the image until another one arrives.

This one is also taken by Aleksander, though he’s holding the phone to one side so that the majority of their bodies can be seen. Alina’s arms are stretched up to the headboard, while his other hand is curled around her throat as he thrusts into her. Her back is arched against the mattress.

Eyes fluttering closed you imagine their bodies crashing together, the gasps and moans, the slapping of skin against skin. Inhaling deeply, you wish you could hear them yourself, smell the scent of sex fill their room, and taste the sweat on their skin. It’s hard not to touch yourself again, forcing your body into overstimulation just to know that you might climax at the same time as them. But you manage to resist, though your hips grind gently against your mattress.

The last photo is taken by Alina. It’s a mirror picture taken in what you can only assume is their bathroom. She’s completely naked, cheeks and chest flushed a pretty shade of pink, with marks dotted over her neck. Butterflies swoop in your stomach at her beaming smile, filling your chest with a giddy feeling. By the time you’ve finished admiring her, there’s a text underneath the image.

Alina: Don’t forget to pee!! And Sasha said drink some water before you go to bed

You: I’m surprised you can type out full sentences after all that

Alina: I’ll tell him you said that ;)

Alina: And yea I’m concentrating very hard rn

A soft laugh falls from your lips.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Let’s see it then,” Nikolai remarks, taking a sip of his drink before he sets in down on the glass coffee table in front of him.

A frown creases at your brows as you watch him lean back into the couch, draping his arm over the back of the furniture piece.

“See what?”

“Whatever Aleksander has made for you.”

Genya smiles widely in anticipation, settling down beside Nikolai before she tucks her leg up to her chest. Her eyes scan over your body intently and you blush. Nerves flip in your stomach at the weight of so many eyes falling on you.

Aleksander and Alina watch you from the other side of the room, where they sit in an armchair together with Alina draped over his lap. Their dark eyes make arousal pool in your panties and a flustered blush burns over your skin as they both smirk.

Swallowing hard, you shift your weight slightly on your feet.

“Go sit with Zoya and show her first,” Aleksander instructs you.

There’s a knowing glimmer in her eyes as you sit down on the couch next to Zoya, opposite Nikolai and Genya. David tilts his head curiously from where he’s sitting in the armchair, leaning to rest his elbow on the arm of the couch next to Genya.

Taking the hem of your shirt you tug it upwards over your head, revealing your bra to everyone in the room. Nikolai grins and Zoya’s gaze roams hungrily over your skin. She reaches out, hooking her finger under the strap of your bra to snap it playfully against your skin.

The sting of pain sends a pleasurable thrum down to your nipples, reminding you of what they’re about to see. Sending a glance over to Aleksander, his eyes darkening as they meet yours, you breathe in shakily and unclasp your bra. The fabric falls from your breasts, revealing Aleksander’s creation to the group.

There’s a collective sound of inhaled breaths and low murmurs of praise, which has you squeezing your thighs together.

“Good girl,” Zoya says with a smirk, cupping your breast to admire the jewellery.

Nikolai leans forward, resting his elbows onto his knees, cocking his head aside as his lips quirk into a boyish grin that makes you blush.

Alina peers over eagerly, as if she doesn’t have an ample number of photos of your breasts saved on her phone. Almost every day, you’ve ended up sending her a picture of some aspect of your body at her request. The thought of her using those photos to touch herself to makes your panties wet.

“Come here, love,” Nikolai says, beckoning you to him. As soon as you stand, Zoya grasps at the waistband of your jeans, bringing them - alongside your panties - down with a few determined tugs.

Nikolai sets you down on the glass coffee table, facing Zoya, goosebumps rising on your bare body from the chill of the glass and the heat burning beneath your skin.

“Let everyone see how pretty you are,” he murmurs low in your ear.

Zoya smirks widely, continuing to play with your breasts. Her fingertips dance over your skin, brushing delicately against your hardened nipples.

“And what a lovely job Aleksander did.” Her voice is an admiring purr that makes your blush deepen. “I think this one of your best, Sasha.”

He inclines his head slowly in appreciation, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. David asks him a question about the metal used and conversation begins to flow as easily as it always does. Everyone is so dynamic and interesting, they understand one another so instinctively. How can a group of people merely talking to one another make you this aroused?

Aleksander’s voice is your favourite to listen to. Smooth and decisive, every word is pronounced intentionally with confidence in every syllable. Alina is the most expressive with her voice, amusement and interest colouring whatever she’s saying. Genya’s is a soft balm, soothing yet there’s something hidden in her words. Whilst David might not be as articulate as Aleksander, or charismatic like Nikolai, everything he says is insightful. There’s no hope of you understanding what he’s saying, but his enthusiasm has you wanting to listen for hours.

Zoya’s nails scape over your thighs, dragging your awareness back out of the haze that has clouded your mind. A breathy whine heaves at your chest, your eyes snapping up to meet hers. Deep chocolate brown, allure swirling in the dark depth of her gaze as she smiles at you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, prickling in anticipation as Nikolai shifts his body to the edge of his seat, leaning over so that his chest is mere inches from your bare back. His arm curls around your waist, not touching you until his fingers brush lightly over your navel.

A whimper catches in your throat, as Zoya presses her nails harder into the soft plush of your thighs. Her smile twists into a devious smirk. Her nails are always perfect, a decent length, painted whatever shade will match her colour palette for the week ahead. This evening, blood red nails bite into your skin and you squirm over the table.

Nikolai clicks his tongue in warning. His fingers drag up your stomach, tracing a feather-light path between your breasts. When his hand encircles your throat, the pressure is a wonderfully familiar sensation that has you sighing as he squeezes once in reassurance - an encouragement for you to submit to them both.

Their touches are knowing, well learnt through hours spent in one another’s beds. Luckily for you, the length of Zoya’s nails means she prefers to use her mouth to pleasure you and Nikolai. Excitement prickles over your skin as she parts your thighs. The need thrumming through your body ensures you’re unable to focus on anything except Zoya’s lips lowering to kiss over your thighs.

Conversation continues, though you’re unable to decipher anything being said. Occasionally, Nikolai will chuckle, the motion of his chest jostling you slightly. Zoya’s mouth moves over your skin, licking the scratch marks left by her hands and the sting of pain makes you whimper.

At some point, David must have moved over to the couch, sitting beside Genya to press lazy kisses over her throat and slide his hands over her waist and thighs. Her sighs are soft as she threads her hands gently through his hair, encouraging him to continue whilst they watch you, Nikolai, and Zoya.

The amount of arousal leaking from your cunt, smearing over the table beneath you, makes your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. Nikolai’s murmurings aren’t helping to curb those feelings either. His words are phrased like praises, but the teasing edge in his voice makes your clit throb with need.

“Messy little girl, dripping all over our table. Do you know how much that cost?” When you shake your head weakly he laughs. “Of course you don’t. Numbers are difficult, aren’t they? I don’t think you could count to ten in this state.”

He’s right. Thoughts themselves are difficult and your mind is fully grounded in sensation. His wife bites a mark into your inner thigh, her nose nudging gently against your mound as she leans closer. Every kiss and touch she’s given you has been pointedly away from where you need her most and your patience is wearing thin.

“Zoya, please.”

The sound of your voice breaking through the conversation has everyone’s attention returning fully to you. Zoya looks up at you sharply, something dangerous glimmering in her eyes and you whimper at the feeling of being unintentionally disobedient.

“I’m sorry, please,” you beg, turning your face to hide against the space between Nikolai’s collarbones. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Nikolai runs a hand soothingly down your side.

“Tell us what you want, lovely. Ask politely, like a good girl, for everyone to hear.”

Chest heaving with anticipation, you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt at suppressing some of the embarrassment burning over your face as you say,

“Zoya. Will you please kiss my cunt?”

“Just a kiss?” she teases.

Shaking your head, you whimper in protest.

“Don’t be mean Zoya,” Nikolai remarks, though his tone is light and he smiles over at her whilst stroking your cheek gently. “She’s being good.”

She hums quietly, tilting her head as she appears to give his words some thought. Then she nods to one side.

“Look at Aleksander.”

There’s a knowing glimmer in her eyes as you hold her gaze and her smirk widens. Zoya and Nikolai share a look, smiling at one another. They know you well enough to see how much you like Aleksander and Alina.

Swallowing hard, you turn your head and the breath leaves your lungs in a sudden rush as Aleksander’s pitch black eyes meet yours. You can almost see yourself reflected in them, a messy wanton being writhing in front of him.

His tongue traces over his lower lip before he smirks, his gaze lowering to admire your breasts, still adorned with his jewellery, and your messy cunt. Zoya presses her lips against one of your nipples, a delicate kiss to the pinched nub. Then the other.

Then, finally, she ducks her head down between your thighs, mouthing over your soaked cunt. She laps eagerly with her tongue, and the sensation has you throwing your head back against Nikolai’s shoulder. His arms curl around your body to keep you upright.

The desperate cry that escapes your lips attracts Zoya’s attention and her lips press together in disapproval when she sees your gaze has left Aleksander, shifting back to her.

“Keep looking, or I’ll stop,” Zoya says sternly.

A small pout puckers at your lower lip, but you do as she says. Aleksander’s gaze is too intense, and you move your eyes over to watch his hands wandering over Alina’s thighs. He squeezes the clothed flesh smoothly, ignoring how she shifts her weight over his lap, grinding slowly. Her eyes, half-lidded, meet yours and a thrill runs down your spine.

When Zoya’s mouth returns to your cunt, your hands reach for her hair to urge her closer, wanting to chase the prickle of pleasure that is buzzing in the back of your head. Before you can touch her, Nikolai is curling his hands around your wrists, guiding your arms backwards so that your palms are settled on each of his thighs.

“Hold onto me, love,” he suggests.

Despite having very little control of your body and its reactions, you grip onto the fabric of his trousers, nails digging into the muscle beneath. He smiles widely, nose nudging against your cheek as you gasp and whimper.

Aleksander is murmuring something into Alina’s ear, his hand curling around her throat to keep her attention on you. Bliss is running through your veins, heating your entire body as Zoya begins to suckle on your clit, swirling her tongue over the sensitive little bud. Alina bites down on her lower lip.

“Nik, please,” you whisper weakly.

He hushes you, pressing a kiss to your temple as you continue watching Aleksander and Alina, they bodies melding into fuzzy shapes as your gaze becomes unfocused. The drag of Zoya’s tongue and the movement of her lips against your sensitive cunt has you nearing a climax with an almost frightening intensity.

“That’s it, love. Come on, show everyone how pretty you look when you come undone.”

He whispers more praises into your ear before grasping your chin lightly to hold your head up and meet Aleksander’s eyes once again.

“Sasha, tell her what a good girl she is.”

You won’t survive this. The climax that is building inside you is too much. Aleksander’s words are smooth as he encourages you in a doting voice that has your mind sinking through honey.

“You’re a very good girl, milaya, and you’re going to cum for us, aren’t you?”

Obediently, you nod in agreement.

“Yes, yes Aleksander, please, oh fuck.”

Overcome by pleasure, you grasp tightly onto Nikolai’s wrist, writhing between him and his wife as your climax throws you off a cliff, plummeting into the wild waves of bliss. The muscles in your legs shake, your hips jerking against Zoya’s face as your climax shudders through your body.

Weakly, you slump back against Nikolai, whining quietly when Zoya continues to lick your twitching cunt. When your breathing hitches and you try to move away, she stops and you feel boneless now that the sensation has been removed. Bliss has made your limbs heavy and your body is still reeling.

For a long moment, you keep your eyes shut, admiring the colours that swim over your closed eyelids. The need that had been clouding your thoughts has now dissolved completely, leaving your mind a puddle.

While your eyes remain closed, you’re aware of someone lying you down, some gentle touches and murmurs, as well as a warm cloth being dragged between your thighs. It’s much easier to keep your eyes closed, settling your heart and breathing into something more comfortable. Slowly, your eyes begin to flutter open again.

“There’s our girl,” Nikolai coos with a bright smile. “Welcome back, love.”

His hands smooth gently over your thighs and you hum at the soothing sensation of someone tracing their fingers over your forehead. Blinking up at the person, you realise your head has been placed in Genya’s lap.

“Hello, down there,” she says softly, tapping you on the nose with her fingertip. A bashful expression fills your features as you whisper a quiet response.

“Hi.”

David reaches over towards the coffee table, picking up a large crystal pitcher filled with water that hadn’t been there earlier. He pours a small glassful while Genya helps you into a somewhat upright position.

They seem to know your hands would be unable to hold the glass, still shaking from the remaining adrenaline in your body. David holds the water up to your lips and you drink eagerly. His firm hand at the back of your neck makes you shiver pleasantly.

Once you’ve finished, Zoya places a soft blanket over your body and you nestle your face against Genya’s chest. She presses a kiss to the crown of your head, whilst David traces his knuckles down the length of your spine. His touch is warm even through the fabric of the blanket. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into a heavy slumber.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A chill brushing over your skin is what wakes you and a shiver shakes your body, nuzzling deeper into the warmth surrounding you on both sides. It’s then that you realise you’re now in a bed, in one of Zoya and Nikolai’s guest rooms. With Aleksander on one side, Alina on the other.

Her head is tucked close to you, she appears to have slid off the pillow in her sleep, now nestled in the space under your chin, her forehead brushing against your breasts occasionally as you breathe. One of her hands is placed on your thigh, trapped between them as you lie on your side.

Aleksander’s arm is draped over your body, his hand resting on the limited mattress space between you and Alina. He seems to be a light sleeper, shifting his position as if he’s sensed your state of awareness.

His voice is rough with sleep as he murmurs quietly,

“Everything alright, milaya?”

You nod. You’re wearing an unfamiliar shirt which you can only assume belongs to Aleksander. After such an intense orgasm, involving so many intimate moments, you’re glad you’re not waking up in a cold and empty bed.

“You stayed with me?”

“Of course.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear. “We didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine his fingers with your own, giving him an appreciative squeeze as you whisper,

“Thank you.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi @morrigan-crowmwell

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @veescorneroftheworld

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#glitter & gold au #darklina x reader #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #zoyalai x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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txttletale · 7 months

Text

bundletober: live. love. die. remember

hello and welcome to bundletober, where i look through TTRPGs i got in bundles like a year ago and see if they're good or not. i will be doing this with no rhyme or reason but i will be trying to do one a day. i'll note whether or not i've played the game in these reviews but more often than not i'll just be looking at the book and offering my first-level thoughts. if a structure or something develops over the month so be it but for now the plan is just to ramble about the game a bit and give an overall recommendation or lack thereof

first of all, the cover (by finbah neill) is really nice. a good cover, a smart choice of font, a couple of masking layers over it, can really go a long way.

the game is one of my favourite types of game -- a single, razor-sharp concept. this game is about one thing: mechs that have fallen in love with their pilots, reminiscing on the time they spent together. it is specifically about that and nothing in it can be separated from that.

i've talked quite a bit (including in the pages of my own game, most trusted advisors) about how i think the text of a game should act as a co-author, prompting you and providing bits of story you wouldn't have thought of otherwise--and as an alchemist, transmuting narrative or mechanical input from the players at the table into a narrative or narrative output for them to engage with. LLDR is much more of the former than the latter--there is no real alchemy going on here, it's very much a co-author, asking questions and inviting a simple pattern of call-and-response.

so what are its contributions in that capacity? LLDR wants to tell intimate stories, love stories--or rather, it wants you to tell them. the meat of the game is the thirty-item long list of prompts that ask you (playing the mech) to recount stories of times spent with your pilot. some of them are pretty standard as romantic prompts go, but some create a real sense of place and tragedy -- "When you couldn't save someone" and "When you helped them pick fruit" stand out for me as being deliciously emotive while being specific. this game is at its best when it is specific, when it seems like it has a specific vision (like a huge powerful war machine and its pilot picking fruit together) and is inviting you to share that vision with it, into its secret hidden places to feel private feelings with it.

the only real 'mechanic' other than these prompts -- the only thing that the game asks you to do other than tell short stories based on them--is "marking your chassis". the game asks you to use eyeliner or marker pen to track, on your body, how many scenes you've played out. i really like this--it definitely does something to set LLDR apart from other small prompt-based games like it. it's the closest thing to alchemy this game has, and it's an oddly physical and located thing for a TTRPG to ask of you. i really like it.

ultimately, this is a five-page RPG with sparse mechanics. that's not enough space to set the world on fire. i think it falters in a few places where there aren't quite enough distinct ideas to fill out every slot on a table that needs filling. but for what it is, the razor-sharp concept goes a long way towards justifying the spareseness and tonally i think it's melancholy and warm in a way that makes me excited to check out more of creator reizor's games.

live. love. die. remember can be purchased as a digital download from itch.io

#tattletxt #ttrpg #bundletober 2023 #this is my new thing. ive always planned to do this. this has always been a thing.

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lucabyte · 3 days

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your ocs!!!!! please ramble about them!!!!

i love your art so much

(GRABS YOU) H. CAN DO BOSS.

So ! My ocs. I guess I'll do an overall explainer for the overall groups. If you check out my Toyhouse (LINK!) there's a bunch of folders up top that are how I categorise them. It's primarily by universe except for the folders that are just "misc."

So folder 1: Blatant favouritism:

These are silly little guys that don't fit in any specific wider universe, but I really really like. So I'll spotlight the two important ones before i get real in the weeds with my main universe.

In here are notably, my Fursona (self explanatory), Ali and Pittsburgh Cincinnati. There's also Hauntkit and Clearpelt who are warriorcats ocs that *is dragged away by airport security*

... So, Pittsburgh, lovingly sometimes called pissbug, is a weird little Thing who I made as like, an homage to characters like happy bunny and Sweetypuss. She (and her weird dog) exist to stand next to strange and offputting captions. I love her. No further context. She's just silly. and violent.

Now. Ali.

Ali Alighieri has thoroughly stolen the show, and also ties into the next folder along, Making Your MK.

With over a hundred extra images compared to second place (Sorry, Tabitha). Ali is my fucked up little scrunkly. My little baby guy. They're a shared character of mine and @samhainian's, and is from their Creature Feature setting (A modern fantasy setting wherein Cryptids and Magic are real but in our modern world.) They are as such, a modern human young adult... Who is also a demon + magic user.

Strange little pansexual altersex genderqueer poetry-nerd that they are... The modern setting also means they are literally just a tumblr user. A fellow countryman, so to speak.

HOWEVER.... Ali's true origin was in *Purrgatorio*, a scrapped visual novel of mine set in the MYMK universe! They were simply retrofitted into CF as the joke with Purrgatorio was that a regular human had mysteriously just shown up in MYMK's pure-furry setting.... And then when we scrapped the project we got all attatched to our little not-so-blank-slate protagonist. But I'll put a pin in Purrgatorio for later.

Making Your MK.

(Guest of honour: My super unfinished website <3)

Okay so here's the big one. The setting with.... (looks at spreadsheet) 109 characters not including so-called incidentals. At time of writing.

MYMK is home to... Multiple stories. As you would hope when a setting has 100+ characters. I'd wager each story has about 10-20 relevant characters tops but with a big shared universe like this there gets to be overlap between casts!!! Yay !!! 😊😊😊

MYMK is the name of the main story in the setting. Pronounced "Making your Mark", it is centered around Markus Felidae (The purple one) and their family. It's very action-adventure-y. It's also the plot I'm most secretive about the backend of since I WILL!!!!! Turn it into a nice prose story with pictures SOMEDAY!!!!! But for now tee hee hee secrets secrets. Markus' family is strange and ragtag and is keeping something from them... I can't ramble on too long here unless further prompted in asks about specifics but!!! Everyone in the MYMK folder has a fully furbished little profile with a blurb about them. So if you're curious....

But yeah, I tend to think of the MYMK setting more in terms of its Locations than its Casts, due to the overlapping nature of them all. The Malbranche may be the villains of the main plot, but they're also major players in relation to The Palsgrave who are the antagonists of Moraine, etc etc,

The country everything in MYMK is set in is called New Orphidian, Southern hemisphere little thing, here's a very cartoony map of it.

Um. Cliffside!

Since it's the best map I have... Here's an exclusive sneak peek of a Zine I'll be getting back to once the fandom brain cools down a bit.... :3c

(... I REALLY NEED TO DO A TOUR AROUND THE MINECRAFT CLIFFSIDE SAM AND I BUILT..... IT'S SO CUTE....)

Cliffside is situated on a big ol' Cliff.

A tiny hamlet of a place, it used to have reason to exist, and now does not. It's not even a good tourist locale, as the cliff is much too dangerous compared to the nicer tourist spot of Welkin just a little north. Not to mention nearby Moraine's allure as a tax haven with no labour laws place where a bunch of TV and Movies are filmed!

It's where most of MYMK's main cast reside (except the antagonists from the Big City Varmonte), and is as such a location I have a lot of tiny little worldbuilding thoughts about :)

I won't go into the other locations here just because then this post will SUPER get away from me but... I think most importantly for Cliffside right now...

Is that it's where Purrgatorio is set. Yes, that VN I said got scrapped. It's not dead. It is in fact serving it's original intended purpose as "A (mostly) noncanon exploration of character voice and setting"

It's back and its prose babeyyyyyyy!!! (A BUNCH OF THE EARLY STUFF IS ME BEING SUPER RUSTY ... BE WARNED)

Purrgatorio is currently the most publicly available coherent work I have out of my ocs! It's very low-stakes and serves mostly to bash my toys together and see what character dynamics come out, but you can look if you want to!

(There's also a whole THING on the meta of its Canonicity... It's not canon, but it's also not NOT canon. But if I talk about Metanarrative Timeline Collapse in my normal mundane non-magic setting im gonna sound bonkers ✌)

Ali's dynamics with the MYMK cast are so goddamn funny to me. Like I literally just handed my OCs some ET shit but ET is a sexually repressed tumblr user with a mood disorder.

But yeah I don't think I can coherently string together much more about MYMK without just actually explaining THE WHOLE PLOT.... Though I will absolutely elaborate on any given character's Whole Deal if i'm prompted. (OH MY GOD I DIDNT EVEN TALK ABOUT CHROME AND TABITHA. WAIT. OKAY THERE'S. OK NO IF I TALKED ABOUT THEM IT'D JUST END UP AN ESSAY ,SORRY..)

So here's some bonafide classic images for the road.

(IF TUMBLR BREAKS THE FORMATTING AND JUST PUTS THESE ONE AFTER THE OTHER INSTEAD OF IN A GRID IM SO SORRY LMAOOOOO)

... And as for the other folders on my toyhouse!

Misc and Fandom are what they sound like. Self explanatory,

Then, Ysden is @samhainian's fantasy setting. It's where our DnD games happen to be set but it's also a general fantasy setting :)

and Monster of the Week... Is currently being revamped! It used to be a modern world setting with hidden magic, now it's going to be more... Adventure Time-y. Fantasy world get iphone. Yknow. It has a lower Age Rating than MYMK's "anything goes", as it started as a Pitch Bible Project in my animation class. They're a little neglected but I still love them :) The revamp is extemely recent and not reflected in any of the art/writing yet but I'm workin on it. It still doesn't have a proper title..... OTL

So yeah!! Uh. This wasn't as comprehensive as I was hoping but it turns out I have way, WAY too many thoughts on my guys. And no idea what to do when im actually asked about them so !!!! This was not a very coherent ramble but it was a ramble !

There's things like essays on Chrome and Tabitha (Link) and also The Queer Gender Identities Of The Whole Cast (Link) hiding around on my toyhouse, and once again, Purrgatorio (Link) serves as my sandbox for playing with how these characters act in situations.

But..... ! I did try to make my toyhouse approachable for the average layman. Every character in the MYMK folder (Link) has a *blurb* of information, rather than a giant wall of text explaining everything about them. I want people to be able to understand their general vibe at a glance rather than be overwhelmed.

In any case ???? Uh. Fun game for everyone: If you know your homestuck classpect, every single MYMK character has a classpect and lunar sway. and a birthday. Try and find your andrew-hussie assigned kin! As a Prospitian Witch of Heart, I share my classpect and lunar sway with Chrome. No I don't know what this means. It worries me honestly he's kind of an asshole.

#oh my god this is so long and not coherent at all anon i love you thank you so much for asking but this is unintelligable from me LOL #long post #EVEN LONGER IF TUMBLR BREAKS THE FORMATTING WHICH IM SUPER SCARED IT WILL DO #but yeah. BURSTS INTO TEARS. I LOVE MY LITTLE GUYS THERES LIKE 10 YEARS UPCOMING OF DEV ON THEM ITS UNWEILDY #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING AUGH.... SORRY THIS IS MOSTLY JUST SAYING TO LOOK AT MY TOYHOUSE LOLLL #but if anyone catches your eye dear reader feel free to ask about them in specifics? even if they seem niche or under-drawn...#i will have had a lot of thoughts on them. no matter what.#also my toyhouse doesnt make it clear whos trans gender because i only list pronouns and not gender identity but . theres a bunch.#i have so many goddamn nonbinary characters who use binary pronouns too its . i realise i make it hard to tell LOL #anyway the classpect assigned kinnie thing is my fav thing to do. everyone should do this with their ocs #lucabytetalks #LUCABYTETALKS LIKE. A LOT. THIS TIME. THIS IS SO DISORGANISED GOOD LIRD.....

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mystra-midnight · 8 months

Text

Haunted Hoedown - DAY THREE

summary: Eddie wanted you to live in the perfect fantasy he'd created and would never, ever, in a million fucking years, give you a reason to think otherwise or suspect the truth.

warnings: stalker!biker!eddie x reader. depictions of stalking, obvs. public sex. spanking. dirty talk. hint of voyeurism. hint of squirting. teeny tiny hint of darkthemes. mentions of perv!biker steve.

words: 1.1k

notes: day three of the haunted hoedown challenge being hosted by @inklore and @psychedelic-ink. (day four and five will be delays because i'm going on holiday yay~) I honestly have never looked into yandere before and don’t know that i can do it justice before my flight tomorrow, so stalker au it is alongside my (current) favourite lana del rey song “ride”, hence the biker au.

prompt: inspired by your favorite lana del rey song + stalker

There was something freeing about riding on the back of his motorcycle. It had something to do with the rumble of the engine between your thighs, the feeling of your hands pressed against his tummy, and how he'd reach back to squeeze your knee every now and then. There had never been a day when you'd felt at home, but with Eddie and his motorcycle, it was almost as though you'd found your people.

He was a mystery wrapped in an enigma, styled with a perfect leather cut and patches you didn't understand. You'd wanted him the first moment he'd taken you into his arms, and you'd fallen in love the moment he'd taken you riding on an open road, no map, no destination, just riding.

The wind had stung your eyes, making tears roll down your cheeks as you laughed. The sound was ripped away before he could hear it, but he felt it in the way your body shook against his back. He had been made for you, as though someone had plucked the fantasies from your mind and brought them to life.

Eddie Munson was your dream come true.

And he was willing to let you believe that.

Eddie wanted you to live in the perfect fantasy he'd created and would never, ever, in a million fucking years, give you a reason to think otherwise or suspect the truth. He'd followed you for days and weeks, months even, to learn what you liked and what you hated; he'd memorised the lines to your favourite movie and what your favourite flower was—carnations, purple, to be specific.

He'd known your body intimately before ever meeting you in that dive bar. He'd watched you touch yourself at night to learn what you liked. He knew the location of each and every one of your scars and how many freckles dotted your body; his favourite was the one on the underside of your left tit.

He knew what you sounded like screaming before he’s even spoken to you. Your brows would cinch together as the pressure built between your hips, your heels digging into the mattress while your mouth opened and closed noiselessly. He knew that when you came, it was always—always—earthshattering. Your thighs would tremble, and you'd shake your head side to side before slumping back to the mattress. His dick would be hard again in an instant after seeing your pretty pussy glistening beneath the yellow glow of the bedside lamp.

When he learned your friend, Robin, was going to take you to the dive bar at the edge of town, he finally set his plans into motion. Steve had been there waiting for you, more than drunk, but he'd remembered what Eddie wanted him to do. He'd hounded you, touched you, grabbed your hips, pulled your ass against his crotch, and rutted against you while you fought him.

Eddie had watched from the corner of the room. You'd lost Robin in the crowd when he sent one of the old ladies in to distract her. He'd almost felt bad. You'd been so afraid when Steve began to fondle beneath your dress—this pretty little thing that stuck out like a sore thumb among the drunkards. The personification of sunshine in your summer dress and heels—all fucking his.

He'd let it go for a while before coming to your rescue. He'd slammed his fist right into Steve's mouth, his rings splitting his lip, for which he'd apologised after Steve'd sobered up. You'd been putty in his hands ever since.

So much so that you'd never noticed Steve wore the same leather cut as Eddie, or that he rode in the gang. You were so enamoured with the road doves way of life, so touch starved and desperate for affection that you'd fallen for his trap hook, line, and sinker.

That was how he got you into this predicament: pulled over on the side of the I-30, dress rucked up around your waist, and his cock buried in your gushing cunt. He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and pulled you back onto his cock, his mushroom head finding the spongy spot inside your gummy walls that had you wailing his name.

You were close,—so goddamn, motherfucking close.

Each time his heavy balls slapped against your clit, and his pelvis crashed into your ass, your thighs trembled, the insides of them slick with your juice, but he kept you on the edge, refusing to let you dive headfist into the other side. You'd kept your helmet on to preserve your anominity, but he could tell from the way you squeezed him like a fucking vice each time a car passed, horn honking approvingly, that you were in heaven.

His hand came down hard on your right cheek, which made your cunt clench around him somehow even tighter. "So fucking tight for me, pretty girl," he grunted, his voice muffled behind his own helmet. Your visors were both fogged from your heavy breaths, with droplets of moisture sliding down the inside of them. "You like this? Like me splitting you open on the side of the road, you're just a dirty fucking whore, aren't you? Say it."

His words were separated by alternative smacks to your ass: one cheek, then the other, then both at once, his thrusts never once faltering. Tears flooded your eyes because of the delicious sting his rings left in your skin. "Yes!" You cried out, your voice hoarse and broken, your lips wobbling as a sob welled up in your chest. "I'm a whore, your whore, fuck, Eddie, m'gonna cum! Please!"

"Not yet," he snarled. "You don't fucking cum until I tell you you can."

You screamed in frustation but he didn't pay you any attention. In the distance, he could hear the familiar rumble of motorcycles approaching. He grabbed you by the waist, fingers biting into your skin through the fabric of your dress hard enough to bruise, not that you'd mind, and doubled down. It felt like he was in your stomach, rearranging your organs with every brutalising stab of his cock through your slick walls.

You vaguely heard the sound of engines, but it was soon lost to when his hand snaked around to rub vigorously at your clit. Eddie watched as the gang rounded a corner, Steve leading them. Steve's visor was up, his eyes focused completely on the two of you, and Eddie was certain he saw the hint of a smirk.

"Now, baby," Eddie grunted, your helmets clunking together as he hovered over you. "Cum for me, pretty girl, soak my fucking cock." Your arms shook where you held his bike, back in a perfect arch, as white-hot lighting lashed through your veins. You were screaming when Steve and the gang pulled up, the ground drenched where you squirted around Eddie's cock before he buried himself to the hilt, pelvis tight against you ass, shooting thick ropes of cum as deep as possible.

"At least we'll never die of thirst," Steve mocked as he applauded.

#haunted hoedown #hauntedhoedown #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you

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crumchycow · 17 days

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Ep 6 doodles

KinnPorsche two year anniversary prompt 3: Favourite Episode

Also I guess prompt 4 which is actually today: Favourite location/set

Ughhgg I love episode 6. It's so contrasting to the show and it fits so well right in the middle as a break and a turning point. It is the sole reason I like kinnporsche as a ship, just the way that it's the only time kinn felt fully at peace and like he could be himself!!??? The way that he kept Porsche in this situation not telling him a way out but when it was the end he gave Porsche an out of the mafia because Kinn thinks living in the woods is better and safer than his life in the mafia!!!???! The way that Porsche saw sides of Kinn here that he only saw here which lead to him understanding and loving Kinn the way that he does??!!?? The way they are so cute?!?? The gorgeousness of everything?!?? The parallels of Porsche withholding information from kinn to Kinn revealing he was withholding information from Porsche the entire time. (Huh is that where their continuous trust issues started?) The way that this was Porsches last chance to leave, his last moment away from the mafia, his last hope whether he knew it or not; and he almost took it, he was so so close! but ultimately he chose Kinn's life over everything. He chose Kinn's life over his safety, his brother, his freedom.

When I first watched this episode I was like okay cool but did that need to be a whole episode, but when I finished it and saw Porsche as the minor family head all I could think about was this episode.

#sorry for the ramblings tee hee #actually im not #i am sorry the lighting is so bad though #i might repost later with daylight #kinnporsche the series #kpanniversary2024 #KinnPorsche ep 6 #KinnPorsche #my art

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starlostastronaut · 4 months

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DAY 22 | PICTURE FRAMES

PAIRING: kim seungmin x reader

GENRE: fluff, non idol au

WC: 1.06k

CW: photographer!seungmin, model!reader, reader reffered to as girlfriend and queen, implied fem clothing for reader, attempt at humour? (kinda? idk)

PROMPT: he asks you to be his model

my last two braincells wrote this at 1am, so thats about all the explanation you'll get for this... thing. enjoy reading <3

title from paper rings - taylor swift

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

Immediately after entering the studio, you were swarmed by a group of stylists and makeup artists. Despite being in the industry for a few years now, this was something you were still getting used to. You weren’t a risk-loving person, quite the opposite, actually. You liked to have everything planned out beforehand and to know where you were going and what you were going to be doing. You liked to be prepared. You liked control. Nonetheless, photoshoots were not that kind of thing. It usually depended on who you were working with, but more often than not, you weren’t told what you were going to shoot. The company would provide a short questionnaire about things you were and weren’t comfortable with, but they barely told you the theme. And even though you loved being a model, this part of the job was not your favourite.

And Kim Seungmin was the worst of them. He was a freelance photographer, a highly demanded one, but he often set aside the time to do some photoshoots of his own to update his portfolio and Instagram. And he liked to rope his friends into modeling for him. Having met him all the way back in high school and being a professional model on top of being his girlfriend, no wonder you were on top of his list. Unfortunately for you, he liked to keep his concepts a secret, refusing to tell you anything except the time and location. For reasons unknown to you, you always said yes, though. Maybe it was the pleading puppy eyes he mastered over the years, or because you knew he would never make you do anything you were truly uncomfortable with. And so he kept asking, and you kept agreeing.

And that was how you found yourself in a makeup chair in front of a not very stable table with a mirror placed on top of it. It certainly wasn't the best makeup station you saw, but on the other hand, you were in an abandoned warehouse that supposedly inspired Seungmin, so it could have been worse. At least three stylists were currently occupied by your hairstyle for the shoot, while others argued about the shade of your eyeshadow. You sighed and relaxed in the chair. This was going to take some time.

Three braids later, some comotion could be heard by the entrance. When you turned your head to the source, you saw Jeongin walking towards the makeup station, looking excited. You should have guessed he would be here. Besides you, Jeongin was Seungmin's favourite model. And he especially liked photographing you two together, claiming the visuals were out of this world.

You greeted Jeongin politely when he sat down. Despite him being Seungmin's best friend, you never hung out much with him, aside from photoshoots. You tried to make small talk with him as the stylists were getting both of you ready, but it was so awkward that you were glad when the makeup artists told you to be quiet so as not to mess up the makeup.

Seungmin arrived soon after. He came by the station to greet you and Jeongin. “Any guesses on the concept yet? This one is pretty obvious,” he smirked, tilting his head to Jeongin, who was now dressed in a loose white shirt and tight pants, with knee-high boots ready. You shook your head. Well, you had your ideas but didn't want to say them out loud in front of Seungmin. He made it a game to let you guess the themes for photoshoots, rewarding you with a kiss whenever you guessed right. More often than not, you didn't, though, and he would mock you for it (with love, of course). So you started to refuse to tell him, making him pout about ruining the game. It was an endless back-and-forth, but that was just how the two of you worked. Love disguised as bickering and teasing.

Half an hour later, when you were in your costumes, the concept finally became clear. Faeries, specifically a faerie queen and a king. While you and Jeongin were getting dressed, Seungmin and the rest of the crew created a scene that looked like something out of a dark fairytale. The old warehouse was decorated with lights, sheer fabric, flowers, and all the typical faerie items, which strongly contrasted with the ruins around you. Someone even made a half-broken throne, and after the first few poses, it was explained to you that you and Jeongin represented the faerie conquerors after their victory, claiming the throne of the land they left destroyed. The concept was a complex story that made your head hurt a little bit trying to fully understand the vision, but that was normal for Seungmin. You let it go and focused on being the best dark queen you could be.

After the shoot, Seungmin asked you to stay for a little bit. You sat down next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leaning into his side. Seungmin shoved the camera in front of you. “You looked beautiful,” he said, showing you the first couple of pictures. “My scary queen.” Looking at the pictures, you had to agree with him. You looked majestic, with the background and your costume creating this mysterious and dangerous aura around you. You went over the rest of the pictures with him, smiling when he paused to point out a detail, excitedly telling you how you captured his vision perfectly.

“I knew what I was doing when I started dating a model,” he mused, yelping in pain when you smacked his shoulder playfully.

“Hey.” You put on an offended face. “So that's the only reason we're dating, Kim Seungmin?” You cocked your brow and watched him agree with a mischievous smirk on his face. "Well, you should know that I only agreed to date you because you take pretty pictures,” you replied, suppressing a smile. You needed to keep up your mock offense a bit longer.

“See, it's mutually beneficial,” Seungmin shrugged and swiftly avoided another hit to his arm. During that, he lost his balance and fell from the bench, his camera still in his hands. You couldn’t help but laugh as he went down, desperately trying to shield the camera from the impact. When he looked up from the ground with furrowed brows, you only laughed harder.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo @sleepyleeji

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin #fluff

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shsy7573 · 9 months

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Two-Hundred Days

A Voltron Fanfiction by shsy7573

Description: When Keith goes radio silent after weeks of daily video calls with his boyfriend, Lance begins to worry. To cope with the stress, he begins filming daily audio recordings on Keith’s old helmet. As Lance’s mental health begins to deteriorate, each message becomes more depressing than the last. What happens when Keith finally returns, and listens to how broken his boyfriend has become?

Relationships: Klance

WARNING: thoughts and discussions of suicide. Cursing

Notes/Info: Langst. Hurt/comfort. Screw canon, Lance is Blue Paladin, Keith is Red. Depressed Lance. Suicidal Lance. I didn’t include every single recorded message (obviously), but i figured I’d just include instances that highlighted Lance’s descent into deep depression. Tbh I don’t know how I feel about this one. The writing feels awkward/out of character, but let me know what you think. I kinda just had this idea pop into my head so I wrote it down :/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance sat down and rested his back resting against the wall. He scanned the room. It was a place he’d been to many times before, and it wasn’t all that different from the other quarters in the castle. It was quaint, small. A bed ran along the side of the wall, its blue sheets tucked neatly under the mattress. There was a long compartment for belongings located next to the door, and a coat hanger right above it with a red and white jacket. Keith’s jacket. He’d left it behind when he’d joined the Blade.

It had been days since Lance had heard from the former Paladin. Nobody else was worried. Why would they be? They didn’t get daily calls from the half-Galran. Then again, it would be weird if they did. They weren’t his boyfriend.

Lance missed Keith. A lot. It was lonely on the ship without having his favourite Red Paladin to snuggle into. He missed the long conversations in Red or Blue’s cockpits, or the late-at-night encounters in the kitchen when neither Paladin could sleep. The team just felt… empty without him. Or maybe Lance just felt empty.

Usually, though, he’d have their morning calls to look forward to. It was the only time of day Keith was always one-hundred percent free. Apparently the Blade of Marmora were late risers. Mornings had become Lance’s favourite part of the day, whereas before it had been a struggle to get out of bed.

That’s part of the reason he was so worried. He knew Keith enjoyed their time together too, his boyfriend wouldn’t miss out unless he was doing something really important. Right?

Lance sighed. He didn’t even know why he’d come to Keith’s room. Obviously he wasn’t just going to show up here. That's not how things worked. Still, he’d hoped it would at least make him feel closer to the boy in some way. That it would do something to cure the aching in his gut that had started to emerge since he went radio silent. It didn’t, though. In fact Lance almost felt more separated from him.

The Blue Paladin stood up again, about to leave when something caught his eye. A small glint coming from inside the chest - which apparently wasn’t fully closed. Curiously, Lance walked over, and opened the trunk to discover Keith’s abandoned Paladin armour.

Oh. I was wondering what he did with that. Lance thought, reaching down and picking up the helmet. Ever since Keith left, Allura had been piloting the Red Lion. She hadn’t used Keith’s armour, though, instead opting to make a set with pink trimming. The Paladin smiled, wiping dust off the visor as he sat down again beside the chest. Man, this thing’s been through it.

He wasn’t exactly sure what prompted him to do it. Maybe because it was something of Keith’s, and he missed talking to him, maybe he just needed to vent without worrying anyone with his problems. Either way, he reached inside the helmet and activated the recording function.

[ RECORDING ONE ]

There was a shuffling noise, followed by a light jostling as the helmet was set down. It was quiet at first. The only sounds being picked up were the breathing of another person, and a quiet, awkward shuffling.

Then, a small, uncertain voice began to speak. “Uh… hey man. It’s… been a couple days since we’ve talked. I keep wondering if maybe something’s happened to you. I hope not. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid. You're probably just busy, but… I can’t help worrying about you. I love you, you know? And I miss you.”

The speaker took a breath, and the muffled sound of his voice as it went on suggested he’d put his head in his hands. “Dios, this was stupid. What am I even doing?” He inhaled, and his voice became clearer once more. “Whatever, I’m doing it now. So, fuck it I guess.”

More shuffling as the speaker repositioned himself. “It’s pretty early right now. About the time we’d usually call. You got me into the habit of waking up early, you know? Mama would overjoyed to hear that.”

“Nobody else is awake yet. Uhh… the whole Allience thing with Lotor is still pretty new. It’s been pretty hard to trust him, but… if he’s telling the truth it could be nice to finally have another ally. Especially one whose Zarkons son.”

“Hunk is experimenting with the food replicators again. He’s trying to flavour the goo to taste like spaghetti, so far it hasn’t worked. I’m not sure I really want spaghetti in goo form, but it’s good he’s trying new things. Allura’s still doing really well as the Red Paladin. I was worried for a while she’d be pissed about switching from Black, but I don’t think she minds. As long as she gets to fight she seems happy. Now that we know King Alfor binding the lions with her quintessence makes her able to fly any of them, I don’t think she’ll be leaving the cockpit anytime soon. Shiro is… well, he’s Shiro. He’s… definitely getting more and more done with all my shit. So, that’s something I guess. Pidge… we’ll, she won’t admit it but I think she still misses her dad. And, with mat working with the resistance it’s like she’s all alone again. I think she’s better, though.”

“Umm, let’s see, uh… yeah, we all miss you. Me especially, even though I already said that. I know the Blade would reach out if something had happened to you— at least, I hope they would. I’ll just… try to be patient. I think that’s about it. See you, man. Hopefully, I’ll talk to you soon.”

The sound of shifting metal could be heard, followed by a soft click.

[ RECORDING TEN ]

A bit of static washed over the mic, before the telltale sign of something being placed down.

“Hey, Keith, I’m… yeah I’m still doing these. Still… haven’t heard anything from you yet. I’m really starting to worry. Are you alright? Surely you’re fine. You can’t be dead. Somebody would know… right? But… What if you’re lost? What if you’re hurt?! Damn it, I’m freaking out. I think the others are starting to notice something’s wrong. I just— I can’t stop thinking about you. Please just… I really need you to call. I hate not knowing what’s going on.”

Lance took a deep breath, and he was silent for a few moments before continuing. “Nothing new has happened. Still the same old Castle. I tried telling Shiro that I was worried, but he just said I needed to focus. That… I couldn’t worry about you, because you could take care of yourselves and Voltron needed my attention. And he’s right. Of course he is, he’s Shiro. I just… I don't know if I can.”

“That’s about it, I guess. I miss you, please call. I love you.”

[ RECORDING ELEVEN ]

“Hey, me again. It’s the next morning, and… I don’t know, I really just needed to talk. Shit’s been happening lately, Allura and Lotor think they’ve made a…discovery? Coran - and the rest of us for that matter - isn’t too sure, we’re all a little sceptical. Still, Allura seems on board with it, so we’re giving it a go.”

“Everyone’s been a little… crabbier than usual. I keep trying to lighten the mood, but that just pisses them off more. I’m sure they just need to blow off some steam. If they need to yell at me to take the edge off, then I— I suppose I’m okay with it. They don’t… actually mean the things they’re saying. So it’s fine… I guess”

“I’m still really, really fucking worried about you. I don’t—“ his voice strained for a moment, and when he spoke again it sounded teary, “I don’t know what to think. I just— Keith, if you die I don’t— I don’t know what I’d do. The team can’t afford for me to be grieving right now but, I just can’t— I’m such a fucking mess. Please… please come back. Just send a message or— or at least give me some sort of sign that you’re alive! I need you to be alive, Keith!”

He sniffled, and the microphone was shifted slightly.

“Please… please call me soon. I love you.”

[ RECORDING TWENTY-THREE ]

“So… listen. I know I said that I was okay if everyone started yelling at me, b-but… I— I—“ his voice broke. There were a couple moments where the sounds of crying could be heard, before the speaker composed himself and started talking again. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining about this. We have so many better things to worry about. It’s— god some of the things they say, they fucking hurt, man. Like, I know I’m fucking stupid but that doens’t mean I want to hear it all the time. I— I’m just trying to do my best. I just want to help.”

Lance sniffled, taking deep breaths to try and compose himself before continuing. “God, Keith they— I think they hate me. Or, at least they’re starting to. That’s the only explanation for why they— they just—“ he sighed.

“I wish you were here,” he cried, not even trying to conceal his misery anymore. “I— I miss you… so much, Keith. I don’t know where you are, and I’m terrified. Keith. Please just… come home. Come back to me. Let me know you’re alright.”

The Blue Paladin was quiet, his cries having died off in the last sentence. It was so quiet there was barely an indication for when the microphone was switched off yet again.

[RECORDING FIFTY-ONE]

“—eith!” Lance all but yelled into the microphone. Having started talking before the recording and even started. “Oh my god, Kieth, I don’t— I don’t know what to do!” He whispered. His breathing was sparratic. And there was a constant jostling that suggested the camera was shaking. “I— I— I died Keith. We-w we were just trying to h-help fix this Galra base. It was— Allura was gonna— there was gonna be an explosion so I- I jumped in! I just— I don’t even— I knew we couldn’t lose her! I would rather it be me and so I just… and then I— died and— and nobody even—“ his breathing was out of control now.

“I c— I— h—“ the Paladin tries to force the words out, but it was no use. For several minutes, he sobbed as panic swept over him. Being picked up by the helmet as ragged and quick inhalations of breath. Lance forced himself to take deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. After a while, he settled down enough to talk again. Though, his voice was shaky and weak.

“Bl-blue saved me. She— she shared some of her quintessence with me, an-and our bond is stronger than-than ever. I can hear he-her talk now. Which… is cool I g- I guess.” He continued to breathe slowly as he spoke.

“I— I don’t even think anybody cared.” He whispered, squeezing it past the lump in his throat. “They didn’t— they didn’t even say anything, I— m-maybe they don’t know? But y-you’d think they w-would have felt something?”

Lance sniffled, and his voice became muffled as he placed his head in his lap. “I don’t know anymore. I… I just know that I miss you. I really miss you Keith,” he mumbled, voice sad and thick as he sobbed. “And I just— I— I need you, and I miss you, and I love you and I just— I- I feel so alone. I am so alone.”

“I’m sorry. Whatever I did, whatever stupid thing I’ve done to make the universe take you away from me, I’m sorry! Please! I need you! I c— I don’t want to be alone anymore!” He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, before sighing. “I just want you to come back. Please, come back. I— I love you.”

There were a couple more minutes of crying, before the recording finally ended.

[ RECORDING NINETY-EIGHT]

There was a sigh as the recording started. The room was silent for a couple moments, before Lance started talking. “Hey, Keith. I… was going to make this in the morning, but… I just… haven’t had the energy to do this. So, I’m doing it now, right before I go to bed.” His voice was monotone. Tired. “I don’t know what to think anymore. The Blade haven’t been in contact, so… I’m assuming you’re not dead. I’m hoping you're not dead.”

“A lot of stuff has been happening. I… if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to talk about it. Nobody on the team is very happy with me. I keep annoying them. I’m not trying to, I just— I don’t know how else to lighten the mood. The good thing is, with everyone being so pissed at me they’re not really arguing with each other. So, that’s good good, I guess. At least I’m doing something useful.”

“You’ve been radio silent for, um… gosh how long has it been? I— I think a little over three months? I don’t know, I’ve lost track. Everytime I ask the team if they’ve heard anything they tell me to stop being paranoid, and focus on the mission. They’re right. I’m already enough of a hindrance without nagging twenty-four seven.”

He sighed again, shifting as he swallowed thickly. “That’s… all I have to report. Miss you. Love you.”

- AFTER KEITH COMES BACK AND ALL THE FINALE AND SHIRO REVIVAL HAPPENS ALSO DON’T ASK BUT THE PLANET THEY STOP ON RIGHT AFTER ALL THAT HAS A FOREST NOW I’VE DECIDED -

Keith stretched as he and the other Paladins sat around the fireplace. He was pretty content. Shiro was back, actually back, and they’d gathered enough resources to get on the road again. Of course not everything was great. They’d lost the castle, obviously, and it would be a long time before they reached earth… but they’d manage.

Keith had retaken up the mantle as Red Paladin, not at all sorry to admit that he’d missed his Lion. Shiro had gratefully backed out of the Paladin position. He was still pretty shaken up after being extracted from Black and shoved into Kuran’s cloned body.

Yeah, it had been a weird couple of days.

Now that they were on the road, though, Keith figured he’d better make a note of it somewhere. Something told him he’d be wanting to keep track of events. He stood up, stretching as he spoke, “I’ll be back, guys. Just gotta do something.” The others murmured acknowledgements as he walked away. Keith completely missed the look of longing on his boyfriend's face as he made his way over to Red.

The leaned leaned down her head, opening her jaw to let him in. He entered casually, sending a mental greeting to the beast. She replied with a purr, warmth blazed through his mind at her greetings as he sat down in the pilot’s chair. Keith sat there for a moment, relaxing before reaching down to start a recording on his helmet.

To his dismay, the second it started, the recording ended, sending out a little automated message.

“Memory data, full.”

That was odd, Keith had never made a recording of this thing in his life. He opened the history, and was shocked to see that a stream of videos were practically flooding its memory banks. One for every single day for the last month.

Who the fuck has been using my helmet? He questioned, opening the latest message in curiosity.

Suffice it to say he was shocked to hear Lance’s broken, devastated voice on the other end.

[ RECORDING TWO HUNDRED]

The mic switched on, immediately being overcome by sobbing. They were loud, depressing and defeated. It sounded like they were being torn from their speaker’s throat. “I— I fucked up, Keith.”

“Lance?”

“They all hate me for sure now! I— I know they do! I do! I was just trying to help.”

What’s going on? Why is he so upset? Keith wondered, heart rate picking up as he listened to the recording.

“Allura and Lotor were— were working on the- the ship, and I offered to help but— but I don’t know how to build. I’m not an engineer, I didn’t- why the fuck did I even think that was a good idea! I just wanted to be helpful like- like Pidge, or Hunk. They said they were fine, but I insisted! And… and I made them all upset. I just kept getting I— in the way. They got so mad, Keith, they were so mad!”

What? Keith wondered, his heart breaking as he listened.

He sobbed harder, breathing quickly as he pressed on. “Pidge was— Pidge was right! And Shiro was right— a—and Iverson and-and fucking everyone! I— can’t- I can't do it! I’m just a fuck up, I’m a fucking idiot! I’m so stupid! I can’t— I can’t do anything right! I’ll never- b—be able to- t-to do anything right! I’m just a screw up! I’m— s-so useless”

“No!” Kieth protested to no one as the voice echoed through his Lion’s cockpit. What happened to you while I was gone?

He shouldn’t be listening to this. This was obviously a private recording. Then again… he sounds so sad. And.. it is being addressed to me…

He couldn’t force himself to stop listening. He was so glad he didn’t.

“I know why you disappeared now. You probably got fed up with me too. You stopped calling because y— you couldn’t take me anymore.”

No! How could you even think that?!

“You didn’t want me around! You got sick of m—me and how ann-noying I am. You d-didn’t want to b—to— be around someone this worthless!”

Keith could feel tears starting to form in his eyes. That’s not true! None of it! You’re not worthless!

“It’s okay I— I understand! I don’t either! I know th—that everyone wou-would be better off-f-f without me. I know— I know they o-only keep me ar-aro-ound is because there’s nobody else compatible wi-w-ith Blue!”

Lance, no!

“If— if you were here I— I know I’d be s—sent away. You would Pi-i-lot Red, and Allura could pilot Blue and th-a-then I’d just be nothing! Nobody! No use in keeping me around! You c-could all finally get rid of me! I want to get rid of me!”

The Red Paladin’s eyes widened. He couldn’t mean…

The crying, somehow, just became more desperate. More heart-wrenching, “I— I- d-d-on’t- wa-at to do this anymore, Keith!”

Then again, Keith didn’t think anyone could fake this level of heartache.

“I ca— I can’t! If there wasn’t- if there was an—anyone else I wouldn’t even— I would— I’d just stop! I don’t want to live anymore! I h-hate not be—eing able to do anything!”

Don’t you even dare, Lance!

“If you came back, and I wasn’t- couldn’t be useful anymore. I— I- don’t— I would just—“ he gasped, hard as he tried to force the words out, “I don’t—“ another big inhale, “I don’t think I could do-o it anymore! I co-couldn’t bear to-to have you lo-look at me! I could-dn’t stand you hating me. I w- I would just fucking end it so you all w-wouldn’t have to-o-o d-e-deal with me anymore!”

Every inch of Keith froze as he heard those words. His thoughts screeched to a halt, heart skipping a beat as his blood ran cold.

“It would b-b-e f-for the best! V-Voltron would be better off! Th-the u-inverse would be b—better off!”

Lance just kept crying. The sheer agony he felt in his soul coming out as loud, wrenching, ugly cries. Like he was trying to expel all the parts of him that he felt weren’t good enough.

“Nobody wants me.” He whispered after a while, when the crying had died down just enough to regain his breath. “I don’t deserve to go back home.”

He swallowed, and there was a shuffling, and a sudden closeness of the voice that suggested he was hugging the helmet. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. E—even though you hate me… I still love you.”

The Blue Paladin sniffled, the sound of skin rubbing skin could be heard as he wiped his tears. “I h-hope one day you come back. For the others. I promise I- I won’t bother you. I pro-promise you would have to deal with me.”

“I’m sorry… mi amor. I’m so- so sorry.”

There was a beat. A single moment taken to process everything he’d just heard. Then, Keith was out of his seat, and racing out of his lion. He tossed helmet to the ground, not even caring as his heart thundered in his chance. He had to find him, he had to find Lance.

I’ve barely even talked to him since I got back! I- everything just happened so fast! I’ve just been so preoccupied… What if he thinks— I haven’t even— oh god, FUCK!

He ran over to the others, not bothering to conceal his panic as he realised that the Blue Paladin was not sitting with the others anymore.

Oh god, oh fuck, oh no!

“Where’s Lance?!”

“Keith, what—“ Shiro started, but the Red Paladin as having none of it.

“WHERE’S LANCE?!”

Pidge shrugged, “uh… he,” she turned to where the Paladin had been sitting and shrugged, “he kinda just disappeared. I don’t exactly—“

“What the fuck is wrong with you! You didn’t even bother to—“ Keith cut himself off, shaking his head. He didn’t have time for this. He grabbed onto Cosmo’s fur.

His dog, seemingly to get the message, immediately teleported them away. They popped up in the forest somewhere, and Keith looked around desperately. His heart sang in relief as he saw the blue and white armour of his boyfriend slinking between the trees.

“LANCE!” Keith shouted, barreling towards him. The boy turned around just in time to be tackled to the ground in a whirlwind of arms and legs. Keith didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything right now. He squeezed Lance tight to his chest as the boy flustered in confusion.

“Kieth, what—“

“Oh my god, you’re okay! You’re okay! Lance y— how could you— do you know how fucking scary that was?! I don’t care that I’ve been inside the stomach of an animal, or that Shiro has almost died like five times, or that we’ve faced an army of like ten thousand Galra ships! I have never been more terrified in my fucking life than when I heard you say you’d kill yourself if I ever came back!”

If possible, he held Lance tighter. “Then— then when I came outside and you weren’t with the others I though— I— I thought that you…”

Lance was silent for a few moments, before a realisation dawned on his face. His shoulders went slack, any attempt of trying to pretend that he was fine dying on his lips.

“The recordings…”

Keith pulled back so he could see Lance’s face. He raised his hands up to grab the boy’s head firm, caressing his cheeks as he stared into those ocean blue eyes. He kept a tight hold with his other hand, as if the second he let Lance go, he would lose him. “I can’t believe— you— do you know how devastated I would be if you— if you tried to…” Keith shook his head, slamming his body into Lance again, sending them both completely to the ground.

Tears filled the Blue Paladin’s eyes. “I… I’m sorry! I’m so-s-sorry! I fucked everything up I— I didn’t mean— I just— I’m so—“

“Don’t you apologise for anything, McClain. I love you so much, Lance. I don’t ever want to lose you. I— I can’t— I don’t even want to imagine a world where you’re not in it! I would never abandon you! Do you hear me?! Never! I would never! Ever! Leave you!”

Lance wrapped his own arm around Keith. Holding the boy just as firmly, with just as much desperation. All he could do was cry. Everything that had been building up pouring out of him as he grasped onto Keith like a lifeline.

“Everything’s just—j- been so much! Ev-verybody ha-h-h-hate me! I’m such a fuck up! I’m- I’m stupid- and I’m weak and- and- I an-nnoy everyone! And it doe-s-doesn’t matter how hard I try! I j- I d- I can’t keep up!” He sobbed, his breaths deep and agonising as he forced more words out through his panic. “I can’t do it anymore! I’m so sick of getting yelled— and scolded a-a-and of p-pe-peo-ple condes-sending me! And— and I know they’re right— I -I know-I its because I’m not good enough! I d-deserve it! But I can’t— I’m sick of being so worthless and I can’t—“

“You are not worthless, Lance! Not one bit! And I… I’m so sorry! When I came back, I was just- I was so preoccupied with everything else I just— I wasn’t even thinking! God, I can’t believe— I can’t imagine how awful you must have felt when I didn’t even— ! I never meant to— I love you, Lance! I love you! You are so beautiful and smart and talented and funny and you… and you are good enough Lance! You are everything! And I hate that you didn’t have anyone around to tell you that, because it’s true! It is so fucking true, Lance! You matter so much! I love you so much! Don’t you ever try to leave me! You matter so much to me!”

Lance shook his head. Sitting up again as he pushed Keith away. “Why, though?! I’m so fucking dumb! I’m incompetent! I can’t do anything right!”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is! It’s how everyone has been treating me for the past month! It has to be true! I know it’s true! I just— I can’t even fathom why anyone would ever fucking want me around! I don’t understand why anyone would ever fucking care about me when I’m not even—“

Keith raised a finger to Lance’s lips, stopping the tumbling of words in its tracks. It was too painful. He couldn’t listen to the person that he loved so much talk so little about himself. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right, and Keith wasn’t going to let it happen.

He opened his hand, trailing it from the boy’s mouth to gently caress his cheek. For a moment, he just let himself stare into Lance’s teary eyes, the liquid causing them to shine in the light of the planet. Even though he looked broken and his face was covered in tears and snot, he was still the most beautiful person in the world to Keith. He always would be. The Red Paladin applied a soft, hinting pressure to his partner’s jaw, pulling it towards him ever so slightly.

Lance allowed himself to be guided forward. Both lost in each other’s eyes as they grew closer. Finally, when their lips were close enough that their noses touched, Keith tilted his head.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, in a voice softer than Lance had ever heard him use. His warm breath brushed across Lance’s skin, sending a cascade of shivers all the way down his body.

The Red Paladin shut his eyes, and leaned forward. As the distance between them was finally closed, their lips met. Lance, still in shock, kept his eyes open for a moment before melting into the kiss. It was light, and gentle, but full of emotion. Keith’s devotion and determination came off in waves as he tried to pass on every ounce of his love to the Blue Paladin.

It was something that, over the past few months Lance had wanted so badly. A kind of affection he’d craved for so long now, but had convinced himself he’d never feel again. Convinced himself he didn’t deserve.

At that moment, the rest of the world melted away. There was no more team. No more Voltron. It was just Lance and Keith, tangled in each other’s embrace as they’re lips met in an expression of love, longing, and relief.

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sodamnradd · 1 year

Text

(mentions infertility)

They’re eighteen when they plant the Eternal-Yew tree.

Professor Sprout assigns the simple task: choose a sapling, then a patch of land on the outskirts of the Dark Forest, and make some magic. Both partnerless, Hermione and Draco work together.

It’s a taciturn but courteous alliance.

Draco doesn’t protest when Hermione chooses to plant, “an Eternal-Yew, the longest living magical tree in Europe, to promote peace and prosperity for as long as it shall live.”

Since she chose the tree, Draco picks its home, the exact location where Buckbeak attacked him. “To commemorate the deadly experiences I narrowly missed at this school.”

Hermione rolls her eyes but puts up no argument as they get to work, digging, planting, then using a combination of water and magic to encourage the tree to grow.

They’re twenty-eight when they reunite at Hogwarts. Professor Sprout invited them back to witness the growth of their trees a decade later.

Hermione is a woman, Draco realizes with a startling jolt. Poised and passionate, she recently made the 30 Under 30 list of society’s most influential witches. Her smile hasn’t aged a day.

They picnic beside their young tree, now exceeding Draco in height. Gods, her eyes, he thinks, finding himself asking Hermione about work at noon, and leaving The Three Broomsticks at midnight, drunk on Firewhisky and Hermione’s cinnamon-sweet lips.

They’re thirty when they visit the Eternal-Yew, the last stop on Draco’s scavenger hunt. The day started with a trip to The National Gallery where they reminisced about their first official date, then led to Draco’s old flat, the first time a nightcap drizzled into dawn, and now here they are, by the tree that started it all.

Draco kneels. “Hermione, will you—”

He doesn’t have a chance to finish the question before they’re grass-stained and rolling in leaves, lungs tight from laughter and relentless snogging.

They’re thirty-five when Draco sweeps a tear from Hermione’s cheek.

She clutches her hollow body and apologizes again before he can stop her. “I wanted to give you everything.”

“I don’t need anything. You’re all I want,” he whispers into her ear. Then uses his wand to carve their names on the trunk of their tree: D&H Malfoy, always.

They’re forty-four when they attend Albus’s graduation ceremony. They show Hermione’s god-children their Eternal-Yew and find their names inscribed ten feet higher than where they last left them.

“It’s magnificent,” says Hermione, her hand on the thick trunk. A surge of energy flows beneath her skin. It feels like them. The progeny they never had. Their magic roars deeply within its vein-like branches.

Draco takes her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Always,” he reads aloud.

They’re ninety-seven when they visit Hogwarts for the last time.

Draco is thin and brittle and puts more weight on Hermione’s shoulders than she lets on. They sit beneath the arms of their Eternal-Yew and watch the sun set behind the towers of their beloved castle.

Albus is eighty-four when he visits his great-granddaughter at Hogwarts. He tells sweet Lily that a great couple planted her favourite tree, where students study beneath the shelter of its whimsical branches and rub its twisty trunk for good luck before Quidditch matches.

It’s a sunny day when a pair of second-years race their Nimbus 3009s to the Eternal-Yew, the oldest, largest, and luckiest tree at Hogwarts.

“Look at this,” one of them shouts from high above.

“D&H Malfoy, always,” the other reads curiously. “Wonder who they were.”

The first shrugs. “In love?”

Spilling into laughter, they swoop over the ancient tree and soar back to Hogwarts.

(600 words, written for semi-finals of LDWS, prompt: year 3000, came 1st place)

#sodamnrad #dramione #drabble #dramione fanfiction #draco x hermione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #dramione drabble #dramione ficlet #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dhr #hermione and draco #hermione x draco #sodamnraddrabbles

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 8 months

Note

Lovely M! Your requests are open! So I was wondering if you would mind writing a lil something for my favourite wolf boi (or Celegorm!) With the prompt "jousting"

I'm feeling something comedic, but I'm ultimately leaving the vibe up to you

As always, you're welcome to make it lemon-y sour if you would like, preferably fem!reader, and maybe set in the normal time frame or thereabouts

Thanks in advance if you decide to write this! <3

Right. Since you prefer the normal time frame, how about Celegorm learning to joust somewhere in Middle-Earth?

This won’t be smut, but I’ve added some NSFW elements all the same.

“Little game”

Pairing: Celegorm x Fem. Reader (Mortal | second person POV) | Location: Middle-Earth / Himlad | Prompt: Joust

Themes : Soft | NSFW

Warnings : Kissing | Teasing | Innuendo | Use of a weapon (Lance)

Word count: 1.2k words

Summary: Celegorm is frustrated after not having mastered the lance quickly enough.

Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

"My lord! That is not how you couch a lance!"

Celegorm closed his eyes and groaned in frustration. Here he was, a son of Fëanor, a student of none other than the great hunter Oromë himself, failing to wield what was, to all intents and purposes, a heavy stick with a blunted end.

"This is cumbersome!" He complained, "and wholly unsuitable! I insist you hand me my sword immediately!"

"No." You took your time walking to the end of the sparring field, where a straw target was already mounted onto a pivot. "You wanted to learn, my lord. Now learn. Come now," you said, tugging at the straps, the shield, and the leather war-hammer stuffed with tufts of wool. "Surely you, a son of Fëanor, are not admitting defeat."

Celegorm narrowed his eyes, the tips of his ears flushing red and twitching in anger. "Hold your tongue, woman."

"Hold it?" Wicked humor fills your eyes. "What a shame, for I thought you dearly loved it when I swirled my tongue around the tip of yo…"

"Enough!" Red-cheeked, embarrassed, and more than a little inflamed, Celegorm gave you a cheeky grin. "Enough. Very well. Teach me how to couch this wretched thing."

You helped him with his grip and the angle of his aim. "Lean forward in your saddle," you counseled. "It will help with your balance. Keep your eye on the target. Extend your arm fully just before striking. The speed of your horse will do the rest."

Celegorm listened and took your advice to heart. He held the lance firmly, tucking it under his arm for support. You backed away when he dug his heels into his horse, and it broke into a gallop, racing towards the straw target with all the speed it could muster, its hooves tearing up the grassy earth beneath it. Celegorm waited until the right time, just as he was told. He extended his arm and released, just as he was told. The blunted end struck the shield square in the center. Celegorm hooted in triumph, then howled in agony when the target spun like a top and the stuffed war-hammer struck him square on the back. You ran to him as soon as it happened, alarm coursing through your body.

"My lord!" You cried. "My lord, are you hurt?"

"Just my blasted pride," Celegorm answers quickly, ridding himself of the lance. It fell to the earth with a soft thud. "Tell me. How old are mortal children when they acquire skill with this weapon?"

"Ten and six for most, my lord," you replied, pausing. "If they are strong enough to wield it."

"Ten and six." Celegorm sputtered in disbelief. "Eru save me. And how old were you?"

"The same age or thereabouts. Some are deadly with the lance by the time they reach that age."

"Deadly with it." Celegorm stammered again, ashamed that an elf should struggle to master a weapon. "If my brothers learn of this, I will not hear the end of their teasing."

"All the more reason for you to practice," you reply. You had heard of Celegorm's brothers and how they competed against each other. You felt for him. "But enough for today. We will start again tomorrow."

Celegorm dismounted and walked with you back to the tower house he had come to call home, to the chambers that gave him some peace. Once safely ensconced in his bedroom, you helped him undress.

"You said you were unhurt!" you exclaimed. An angry bruise had formed, just beneath his shoulder blades. "Pray give me a moment. I have a balm for it."

"No." Celegorm crawled onto his featherbed, biting back a helpless whimper. "Leave it be for now. Come, lay beside me a little."

The world outside changed and darkened. Golden light gave way to the dark, the animals of the night, and the full moon. Torches came to life, their light chasing away the gloom. A dog barked just beneath the open window. Someone shouted orders.

Celgorm was silent, brooding over his failure. You propped yourself on your elbow. "How are you, truly?"

He turned to face you, his rich blue eyes half-hidden in shadow.

"Ashamed," he confessed. "I am an elf, one who was born in Valinor, and a prince of the Noldor besides. And yet I struggle to master a weapon."

"This was only your third day, my lord." You reached out and brushed stray locks of golden hair out of his eyes. "There is no shame in not mastering a skill so soon."

"Yes, but mortal children do. By the time they are ten and six!"

"Because our world is more dangerous, we have no other choice. Do not fret, my lord. You will be unhorsing the best of them before long."

The games, or jousts, as the Edain called it were something they devised to train and prepare hopeful warriors. Celegorm had heard of it, after establishing a lordship for himself in Himlad. Those from amongst the Edain would ride against each other, seeking honor, gold, and glory, companions to shower them with all manner of favors. He was told the next games would be held on another turn of the moon. There was still enough time for him to learn. Celegorm grew more hopeful.

"Yes," he decided. "I will be ready then. Now, what shall we do to pass the time?"

You wrinkle your brow. "Read, perhaps? Shall I call for some candles?"

"No." Celegorm sat up, shaking his head, and said, "No. I am not in the mood to read."

"No books?" you said, tilting your head to the side and smiling slowly. "How about a game of dice, then? It is all the fashion now."

"As my brother Curufin would tell you," Celegorm said gravely, "I should be allowed nowhere near a game of dice. Or any game of chance, for that matter."

You smiled and sat up straight. This was all just part of a little game that both of you played every night without fail. Celegorm would fuss, you would offer other amusements, and Celegorm would fuss again. The game inevitably ended in fits of laughter and passionate embraces.

"Hmmm." You narrowed your eyes in mock concentration. "No books and no games of chance. How about some music, then?"

Celegorm's eyes blazed then. "Oh yes. I know just the music I want to hear now, and only you can provide it."

The true meaning of what he said was not lost on you. You made yourself look sober and grave, and replied thus: "You commanded me to hold my tongue, my lord, and I am not one to ignore such commands. Because of this, you will have no music from me."

Celegorm clapped his hand over his heart. "Oh!" He lamented. "Would you forgive me for my careless command, sweet y/n? How can I atone for it? Should I plead? Go to my knees? Abase myself like a lowly creature before my wounded love?"

It was hard to remain stern after his little display. You laughed, in small burps at first, before breaking into fits of it.

"You, my lord, are impossible." You leaned forward and kissed him. Celegorm slid his arms around you, his sweet breath leaving you dizzy and weak. "But I am glad you are mine."

"As I am glad you are mine," Celegorm laid back down, taking you with him. "Now come, loosen that beautiful tongue for me."

#celegorm #celegorm imagine #celegorm x reader #tyelkormo #sons of feanor #the silm #the silm imagine #middle earth #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagines #x reader #reader insert request

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