#puffed and slashed

[armthearmour]

A pair of elaborate puffed and slashed Arm Harnesses, Germany, ca. 1520, housed at the Musée de l'Armée.

[kamil-a]

did a bunch of these over the past few weeks!!

[gogmstuff]

1489-1490 Giovanna Tornabuoni by Domenico Ghirlandaio (Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza - Madrid, Spain). From tumblr.com/life-imitates-art-far-more/642167958715695104/domenico-ghirlandaio-1448-1494-portrait-of; adjusted to fit screen  781X1400 @72 484kj.

[david-watts]

since I'm only watching the serials that I really want to I've skipped ahead to mark of the rani and I must ask. what in the everloving hell is peri wearing

[zedif-y]

artists who can draw characters consistently are the most powerful people in the world

[tender-rosiey]

How do you think sukuna would act with a baby girl?? The same as his son? Maybe a bit more soft since he reminds him of reader?

troublesome — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i have something else in store for geto <3

sukuna never planned on becoming a parent, but then you became pregnant. he had two choices: kill the kid from now or let you give birth to it.

he spent a good couple of days deciding on what to do, until he finally made his mind and headed to your room, swiftly. there you were in all your glory, eyes snapping to your husband the moment he entered.

you smiled, standing up, “hey, sukuna.” then walked to him and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

he, however, said nothing and simply kept staring you down then he said a simple phrase, “the kid.”

your eyes widened, your thoughts jumbled, and your nerves were all over the place. still, you manage to get out a response, “what about it?”

he stayed silent, and it drove you over the edge. you needed him to say something—anything. will he let you have it, or will he kill it? he was never fond of kids, always killed them first in his raids. will your own child with him bear the same fate as the others he had slaughtered and even eaten?

is this a joke from the universe? you married the king of curses, and, therefore, your punishment is never getting to experience the joy of having kids? but even if he does end up choosing wanting to kill it, how will he—

“I will let you keep it.”

you never thought a simple sentence would induce so much happiness in you. you cup his face and  start showering him in kisses, and you unceasingly thank him, “thank you, sukuna! thank you so much!”

he grunts, hand resting on your waist, “just don’t cause me trouble, and it better be a boy.” he takes hold of your chin and makes you lock eyes with him, “I don’t want a whiny, slimy little girl.”

and because the world loves him so much, he was indeed graced with a whiny, slimy little girl.

the moment the woman announced that it’s a girl, your face paled, and your husband’s frown could’ve never been deeper. his eyes traced every action that happened from the cleaning of the baby to the little girl being nestled cozily in your arms.

she starts calming down when she feels the warmth of your skin against her own. slowly, her breathing evens out, and she falls into a deep slumber.

the servants rush out of the room, leaving you, your husband, and your newborn daughter.

you don’t know what to do: do you speak first or do you wait for him to do it? you keep searching his face for any positive emotion, something that would give you hope and make you forget about his sharp scowl.

he puts a hand out and orders, “hand her to me.”

your heart fell to your stomach. there’s nothing you could do. whatever he decided on was what will happen. you desperately wanted to hold her for a bit longer and to feel her comforting weight in your arms.

though, your husband got impatient, eyes sharply looking you in the eyes, and he glowered, “y/n.”

despite your heart screaming and trying to resist ever letting him touch a single hair on your baby, you shakily put her in his hand. she starts huffing, puffing, and squirming in his hold. fearing the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut.

you simply won’t be able to take witnessing your daughter’s slaughter with your very own eyes.

you expect to hear a slash, a little thud, but you’re met with nothing, just a groan from your husband as he mutters, “she is small.”

you blink owlishly then stare at him. he is slowly raising and lowering the hand—an attempt to rock her maybe—that has your baby in it. then, he situates her against his chest.

he looks up to you and states, “she is also ugly.”

frowning, you retort, “that’s because of your genes.”

your husband quirks an eyebrow, “you’re balantly insulting me even after I spared it?”

“her.”

“same difference.”

sukuna shuffles until he is seated beside you and silently pulls you into his embrace.

you just took notice of how he is trying to avoid touching her with his nails and how his hold on her is rather gentle. the little girl lets out a small sigh then snuggles into his chest. her dad copies her with a sigh of his own then he grunts, “not a single word.”

a small giddy giggle escapes you, and you nuzzle into his chest in turn. he squeezes you lightly, before scoffing, “or a sound.”

later on that day, after you were transferred into the master bedroom along with your daughter, you’re left to rest in the expansive bed with your daughter napping in the crib right under the window.

you thought the light might give her some sort of comfort—call it a mother’s instinct. you wanted her to grow up in the light, not to be sheltered and hidden in shadows. who knows if these shadows will devour whole or not.

but you will try your best to provide her with a normal life.

as you start to drift off to sleep, you take note of a large figure standing in front of the window. he is blocking the light from sky—at least the one from the window above her crib. quickly, you are able to define its features and identify that it’s—thank god—your husband.

he has this sort of contemplating look on his face, a solemn look, maybe a bit troubled too. he keeps staring at the sleeping baby as she takes small and slow breaths.

she is fragile, he knows. he also knows that a flick of his finger will end her right then and there.

but he finds his hand only capable of gently caressing her cheek, and a wave of shock is sent through him when his daughter leans toward his touch. his daughter. he heaves a sigh and a frown is etched onto his face.

this is going to be a troublesome journey.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[bunnys-kisses]

baby trapping - (vol. 2) suguru geto & satoru gojo

rating: e (18+) reader: f summary: being in the presence of two of the most powerful sorcerers in japan and quite possibly the world left you feeling small. a small time curse wielder known mostly for using a small rapier full of cursed energy. you fought almost with a dance like stance, it was like watching a beautiful performance as you slashed your way to victory. to geto and gojo, you were their little doll. tags: baby trapping, smut, multiple sex scenes, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty dirty stuff a/n: if have any other characters to add to the baby trapping collection, please check my pinned post and suggest your own! U・x・U

join my discord!

being in the presence of two of the most powerful sorcerers in japan and quite possibly the world left you feeling small. a small time curse wielder known mostly for using a small rapier full of cursed energy. you fought almost with a dance like stance, it was like watching a beautiful performance as you slashed your way to victory.

to geto and gojo, you were their little doll. a little ballerina in a jewellery box that did a small dance when you opened it. oh how they adored you, so small compared to them. geto once joked that handling you was like handling a sparrow, grab on a little too tight and he’ll break your delicate little wings. 

and as much as you puffed out your chest telling them that you weren’t some weak little thing, you could never beat just one of them in a fight. you always ended up on your knees or on your back with one of your lovers over top of you, lavishly making out with you. the thrill of the fight causing tightness in their pants. 

the three of you lived in a large home out in the country, as much as it annoyed you to be away from tokyo. but you found small pleasures in your large garden out back. you always wondered why the three of you needed so many bedrooms if the three of you slept in the main one.

  “why not?” gojo asked as he cupped your face, smiling down at you, “guests, friends, family.” his smile grew. what was he talking about, none of you had family.

the snow was starting to come down in late november. the flurries stuck to the fallen leaves of the garden, that was when the sex got a little rougher. both had their sadistic streaks in them, as much as they showered you in affection they also used and abused your poor pussy. fingers, tongues, toys, and large cocks all found home in your wetness. 

gojo had gone to the city which left you and geto alone. you whined that you wanted to protect the city but geto looked at you and implied that you didn’t want to spend time with him. and gave a soft frown. 

  “fine.” you said, “i’ll stay.” before you tightened the robe you wore and padded down to the kitchen to get some coffee. as you walked away you heard the two men murmur to each other, and felt their strong gaze on your back. 

you watched the snowflakes fall as the coffee brewed. you heard gojo leave the house and soon geto was in the kitchen with you. his hand on your back as he leaned down to kiss you.

  “staring at snowflakes, i see.” he said, his hand lingered down to your ass and gave it a good grope, “i was always more of a spring type of guy. renewal, life, birth.”

you snuggled up closer to him and leaned up for a kiss, “as much as I hate snow, i like when it’s all fallen and there’s that look of untouched snow.” you admitted, then letting out a small sound when his large hand squeezed your cheek. 

just like you, geto thought. a virgin before the two men had their way with you that hot summer night after a round of drinking. in your small apartment, both men promising you to hide their little doll away. protecting you in their eyes. 

geto flipped up the bottom of your robe and placed his large hand between your thighs, feeling your covered pussy. he smiled, eyes on the window as he continued to grope you. 

  “you know.” you said, looking to him, “if you want to have sex with me, suguru. ask me.” a smart woman you were, you’d make a fine mother by summer. 

he huffed out a laugh and pulled you even closer to him, hand still on your ass, “well, will my fine love. my beloved, beautiful love. the most beautiful woman i have ever laid my eyes on, will she let me fuck her in our kitchen?” the corners of his mouth upturned.

you playfully shoved him, “okay, no need to over do it.” you undid the fasten of your robe and let it fall to the floor. there you stood in a sports bra and panties, a beautiful sight to your boyfriend. 

he carefully pressed you up against the counter, face resting against the granite and your ass at perfect level for his cock. he pulled down your panties like he was unwrapping a christmas present and rubbed your ass before with his large hands spread your thighs. 

  “beautiful.” he dragged a finger across your pussy, feeling the wetness between your thighs. he brought the finger to his mouth and tasted your delightful wetness. “mmm.” he said, “perfect.” 

  “you better not cum in me as much last time, it got everywhere.” you remarked with your cheek against the counter and hands against the edge. you heard him chuckle behind you. 

  “i can’t help it, doll. you just bring something out in me.” he rubbed your lower back and smiled at your mostly nude form in front of him. he knew you were fine with both of them finishing inside of you. 

you were on the pill for years now, but two months ago switched between gojo’s hand to geto’s then placed in the nightstand at your side of the bed. the sugar pills were good at faking as birth control, geto was surprised they even had the colouring of the pills right and the proper label on the box. he didn’t even want to know where gojo went to get this done.

it wasn’t like he was out of their little mission either, he wanted to see you round with his child as much as geto wanted to see you round with his. they wanted their little doll to be giving them children for a long time. 

geto’s hand touched your stomach for a moment, open palm rubbing it which made you giggle a little. always the ticklish little thing. he placed one of his hands back on your hip as he pushed his cock inside of you, hearing the small groan and the tensing up of your pussy around his cock. 

  “relax, relax, baby girl.” he said softly, “it’s just me, you know this cock as well as you know your own body.” and groaned when you relaxed. he looked down at your body as he placed his other hand on your hip. 

he started to push and pull against you, your noises were sweet and soft. it made him only harder. the prospect of you being with him and gojo forever because you’re having their babies made him aroused. the idea of breeding such a lovely sorcerer into a fine mother to create half a dozen even stronger curse users made him lick his lips. 

you’d be theirs forever, out in the country. chasing around babies in diapers rather than curses. geto could almost imagine you waiting for them to come home with a nice round belly and a few young kids sporting either black or white hair.

geto was broken out of his train of thought when you started to moan his name and he picked up the pace. his grip tight on your hips, slamming his cock inside of you as he pushed deeper and deeper, he swore that his cock was bullying against your cervix. bruising it as a reminder of him. 

yeah c’mon, mama, he thought to himself as he slammed himself further into you. feeling the slick wet sounds of your love making in the kitchen. the sound of the coffee machine went off. 

 “my coffee is going to get cold.” you whined. 

  “then cum faster and it’ll be lukewarm.” he panted as he started to go faster, moving your top half up and down the counter, the smell of sex and coffee wafted in the air. your noises got higher pitched, the noises of your body rubbing against the counter and slapping of bodies together.

  “fucking beautiful.” he panted, “god you’re beautiful. that’s why gojo and i wanted you so badly. an angel come to earth just for us. you know we love you right?” he moaned as the curl of pleasure in his gut tightened.

  “i know! i know you love me!” you whimpered as your legs shook from being up right and the crashing waves of pleasure beat down on you in a wet lust, your pussy slick allowing him to bully your deepest parts even harder. his grip tightened and you whined in lust at the pressure. even if they were rough when it came to sex, you took it like the champ you were. 

geto’s pace remained brutal and every loud moan that left your lips was accompanied by a harsh groan from your lover. bodies hitting together in ecstasy as the two of you fucked like rabbits in your home. 

  “that’s it, doll. fuck, you’re so beautiful. god, you’re so tight. fuck.’ he cursed as he felt himself grow closer to his orgasm. and from the tight, wet heat engulfing his cock he knew you were getting close to. 

you two continued to fuck in the kitchen, eventually geto having enough of the position and quickly pulling out and pulling you both down to the tiled floor where he sat you on his lap and started bouncing you on his cock lie a maniac. 

your head thrown back as your hands reached for his shoulders as you bounced along, the position hitting even deeper. battering against your g-spot as your mouth hung open in a symphony of moans and whines. 

  “i love this.” you panted.

  “and I love you.” he replied as he kissed your chest. his mouth found your nipple and started to suck on it as he continued to move you up and down. he found it cute that you tried to match his pace but failing to do so. don’t worry, let geto take care of it. 

soon you were feeling the highs of pleasure, your rolled back along with your eyes as you remained almost like a perfect sex toy on his cock. letting his cock bruise and mix your insides up with every hard thrust. you moans filled the air as the air got hotter with your activities. 

geto kept his eyes gazed up at you as he turned his attention to your other nipple, sucking and nipping on the skin. occasionally biting at the skin around it. leaving dark bruises that’ll last a few hours. 

  “beautiful, doll.” he growled as he panted against your sweaty flesh. with a few more hard thrusts up into you, you both came at the same time. the house echoed with the sound of your orgasmic moan.

he came as deep as he could inside of you and said a silent pray that it would take while you trembled like a leaf in post orgasmic bliss. he leaned his head down and softly kissed your stomach while you were riding out your high. he’ll take you every day if he had to until it took.

-

gojo got home mid afternoon, he found you and geto in bed. both naked after a few extra rounds in the softness of your king mattress. geto was awake and reading while you were fast asleep. cum and sweat drying on your naked body. 

his hand in your hair, only pulling away to turn the page. his eyes met gojo’s when he entered the room. the dark haired man pulled off his blindfold, finally able to relax for the rest of the day. 

the white haired man pulled off his shirt and changed into something more comfortable, grey sweats and fuzzy pink socks that you bought for him the last time you were in the city. 

he went over to geto’s side of the bed and kissed him on the cheek before he reached out and brushed strands of hair out of your eyes. he could see the cum stain on the corner of your mouth. he said to the other man, “wrong hole.”

geto’s sharp eyes looked to the man, “i can’t have her catch on. the plan is to play it off like nothing has changed. if we keep filing her full of cum, she might notice.”

gojo chuckled quietly, “that means she has more than two brain cells to rub together. she still hasn’t caught on why we never bring her to tokyo anymore.” 

geto’s gaze lingered to your sleeping form, “we didn’t keep her because she’s stupid you know. we could’ve brought any bimbo home with us if we flashed enough cash.”

  “none of them were rapier wielders. we wanted a bride that would give us strong children. she’s strong, but a little dumb.” gojo corrected.

-

it took two extra days before gojo had a day off, and like a man with a mission he had ever intention of slicking your inside with cum. he wanted so much inside of you that a poke to your belly would make it gush out. he was gross like that. he wanted to know that every last drop was inside of you. 

all the mini gojo’s were trying to fertilize those eggs of yours, if geto hadn’t already beaten him to it. but he wasn’t one to back down if the odds wee against him. so while you the three of you watched television, gojo rubbed your inner thigh. 

he liked when you wore short shorts around the house, but with winter like a looming cloud, you opted for longer relaxing pants. the kind with the stretchy waist, the kind that were easier to get into. 

your head rested on gojo’s shoulder as he slipped his hand into your pants. you let out a soft moan as his long fingers touched your clit. geto was on the other side of the couch fast asleep. 

he played with your clit over your panties before he whispered, “why don’t you get on my cock. but be quiet, suguru needs his rest.” before he pressed down on your sensitive spot which made you squeak. 

gojo loved the sight of you, so small next to him. a perfect woman for both him and geto. even if his lover had impregnated you already, he would just have his turn next. but he was certain that his swimmers were stronger than geto’s. 

he couldn’t wait until your belly become round, your breasts tender and leaky and your growing reliance on the two men. waddling around the house, struggling to do things because you’re in such a fragile state. but don’t worry your little head, gojo and geto would take care of you. 

after all, you were giving them the most precious gift of all. 

he helped you get your sweatpants off, and smiled at the sweet pink panties you were wearing. he playfully ran his finger across your covered slit before with both hands he pulled the underwear down to your ankles, where you got them off onto the floor. 

  “oh my.” he said quietly, “so beautiful.” he could see your hard nipples through your thin t-shirt and pinched one which caused you to make a semi-loud noise which made him shush you. 

slowly he got you onto his lap, and guided his cock through your wet folds, until you were seated on his cock. from his knowledge this was the second best position to breed someone. besides doggy, but he’ll get to that later.

you made a small noise and his large hand covered your mouth before he started to move his hips up inside of you. you tried to match his pace. unlike the coordinated movements of geto, gojo liked to throw you off with his thrusts. moving fast like a rabbit then slow down so you can feel every inch of his cock inside of you.

  “i love you.” he said.

  “i love you too.” your quiet voice muffled by his hand. 

his pace was slow at first. rolling of his hips up inside of you. his cock prodding and poking your innards. nudging against your sweet spot that made feeble little noises exit your mouth. 

  “beautiful.” he admired as he watched your eyes glaze over in lust. he started to pick up the pace, the squeaking of the couch didn’t wake geto which only encouraged the white haired man to go faster. 

geto let out a soft snore as you lifted your hips up and down on gojo’s cock. your hands on his shoulders for leverage as the dark haired man slept soundly beside the both of you. 

gojo let go of your mouth and held onto your hips to get a better angle. your both bounced on the couch and you bit your bottom lip to be quiet before the white haired man left a searing kiss on your lips to keep you silent.no need for your needy, whorish noises to wake up the other man. 

he had a mission to breed you, impregnate you. he often masturbated in the shower to the idea of you growing life. stoking your middle, being a good little wife to your two men. and becoming a protective mother for your children. you were the right woman for the role, no one else could have what you were getting. 

for a moment gojo grabbed you by the middle and started to force you further onto his cock. his thumbs rubbed your side, his eyes gazed down at your middle. praying he was going to be the one to watch it stick out over time. watching your belly button pop and the smile when you felt a kick. not the mention your milky breasts. he was going to have his fair share once it came in.

he continued to fuck you, and quickly you had to cover your mouth with both hands as you came around his cock for the first time. making it more slick and easier to fuck you with. he chuckled quietly as when you pulled your hand away your mouth was hung open and saliva was collecting at the tip of your tongue, dripping down on your clothed breasts. 

  “that’s it, doll. feel it. like the feeling of my cock inside of you. yeah, i know you do.” his voices were harsh whispers as you continued to ride him  you nodded as you breathing became heavy pants, your body moved on its own as you held onto him. the squeaking of the couch enthralled you as you bucked against him. your head felt fuzzy as you rode him.

you felt gojo’s gaze on you as your breasts jiggled in his face. he purred in delight like a cat that caught the canary. his hands went to your breasts and he added his own bites to the lingering ones that geto left. 

  “beautiful pair you have.” he remarked as he licked his top lip, “can’t get enough of you, doll.” deadly with a sword, but docile as a kitten in his lap. you were going to give him lovely babies. don’t worry, he’ll be your shadow if he has to. just don’t leave the house too often, him and geto will worry too much. 

your movements continued until you were clutching onto him tightly, your face in his hair and your breasts in his face. he groaned at the feeling of softness against his cheeks. 

your pants grew louder as you buckled your hips and slammed down on his cock. eyes rolled back as you covered your mouth again and orgasm with the same intensity as the first time. the clutch around gojo’s cock made fireworks go off in his brain. 

oh, he thought, that felt good.

  “i know you love me cock, i know it hits all the right places.” he purred a he watched you nod in orgasmic bliss. he knew how to pull your strings, it involved eight inches pushed inside of you. he might be a bit smaller than geto, but his thickness made up for that. 

he watched your breasts bounced as you moved on your own accord, he sat back and let the wash of pleasure come over him before he was biting his lip trying to hold back a loud moan. 

it wasn’t long before he was gripping his wrists behind his head, letting you ride him as he shot his seed inside of you. he bounced his hips up, pushing as far as it’ll go and praying the way that geto did that it took.

as he watched you slow down, he could see in your eyes that the wires in your brain weren’t crossing right in that moment. he smiled up at you, a glimmer in those blue eyes. 

  “ready for another round, doll?” he asked. 

in your blissed out state, you did nothing with your tongue out but nod. gojo smirked to himself, you were a dumb whore. addicted to men stronger than you who will breed you like the good girl you were. 

too good to be true. 

geto’s eyes opened to the sight of gojo fucking you in front of the television. your figure illuminated by the brightness of the screen. he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and you looked at him with an embarrassed expression. (as if he didn’t fuck you in the kitchen only a few days ago).

he chuckled a little, “get a room you too. or at least, let me join.” 

fo the rest of the afternoon a the snow piled outside your bedroom window, your body was shared between the two men. both driving their cocks deeper inside of you, in their own little competition to impregnate you without your knowledge. 

by the time you passed out on the pillows with both men book ending you, their still hard cocks pressed against you soft form, you were finally and definitely pregnant. large hands rubbed circles on your back and stomach as you snoozed in bed. 

you were bred, you were theirs. and there was no leaving.

-

it was now april, the snow had started to melt around the compound. gojo was sneaking through the house in search of his lovers. he could hear the thud of the bed near by but didn’t know which room they were in.

eventually he slid open one of the doors and found you and geto in bed. oh my, what a sight. a whorish sight to behold. there you were, working on geto’s cock with your hands on your swollen belly, breasts jiggling with the movement of your hips. geto was panting and you were letting out the sweetest moans. even at almost six months pregnant, you took their cocks like a champ and they adored their little pregnant doll in return. 

  “oh, suguru.” gojo said as he unzipped his pants, “you can’t keep hogging her, it’s not fair. i want to show my baby mama some love too. soon she’ll be too close to popping for us to have fun.” in his underwear he got on the bed behind you, both hands fondling your engorged tits. dribbles of pre-milk beaded at your dark nipples. 

  “don’t worry satoru. even if this baby is mine, we still have a whole house to fill with the best sorcerers in the world. all thanks to our little angel here.” he patted your baby bump before he leaned up and started to suck at your breasts, tongue tasting the creamy milk which made his cock twitch harder inside of you. 

you let out a strong moan as you came for the second time with geto’s cock inside of you and the both men said in unison, “good girl.” 

- xoxo, U・x・U

[majinbangus]

Soap teaches you a new skill through unconventional methods...

"Ye really can't do it?"

You glance at the man who made himself at home on your office couch. He came in earlier after training, claiming he had free time, so he decided he best spent it bothering you. You should have kicked him out as soon as he walked through the door. Somehow, the conversation he started got into the topic of rolling r's, and now he won't drop your lack of ability to do so.

"Yeah? It's not a big deal, Soap, plenty of people can't do it."

"I guess I'm just surprised. Figured it'd be something you'd be able to do."

You laugh. "Where'd you get that impression?I'm incapable of it. Trust me, I've tried. Videos don't help, and neither does someone explaining how to move my tongue help. I just can't do it."

"Maybe it's because you haven't tried the MacTavish way."

Your eyebrow twitches. He's up to something, you know it. You can feel it in your bones. Don't encourage it. Just stay quiet. It would be best it you don't as-

"What's the MacTavish way?"

You fool.

Immediately, you know you should have kept your mouth shut, but Soap's slashes into a self-satisfied, cheshire grin. Like the cat that ate the canary, he got you. Easy.

"Well, darlin." He leaves his spot from the couch and saunters over to where you sit frozen at your desk, unable to do anything the closer he gets. "I'm glad you asked."

He's right next to you in a blink, planting a heavy hand on your shoulder. He squeezes tightly, and under any other circumstance, it would have been comforting, but all it does is make you feel like prey. You gulp, and it's clear he sees because his eyes track the movement of your throat, smirk plastered on his face.

You don't dare say anything, eyes wide and head tilted back to look up at him. You've never felt particularly intimidated by Soap before, but standing before you now, in his sweaty fatigues, he somehow looks bigger than usual. It ignites something funny in your belly, something you can't really acknowledge with him looking at you like he might eat you whole. And he just might.

But the scary part? You would let him.

"You see- " the hand he has on your shoulder smoothly travels up the curve of your neck until he's firmly gripping your scruff, pulling an embarrassing sound from your throat " -the MacTavish way isn't something I show you. It's something you feel."

"Feel?" Your voice cracks and his thumb rubs soothing circles against your neck.

"Aye, feel," he confirms with a nod and bends down suddenly, face hovering just over yours, breath puffing gently onto you. You can barely hold back a flinch at the sudden movement, but the hand he has on you holds you firm. "It's an important life skill, wouldn't you agree?"

"U-um, I wouldn't say it's-" He squeezes your neck and you clear your throat, correcting yourself. "Yes, sir."

He huffs out a laugh and gentles his hold as if in praise. It oddly makes you preen. "So you'll let me teach you, won't you?"

It doesn't really sound like a question- it more borders as a command, and fuck him because he's not even your sergeant- but you can't bring yourself to say no, or anything really. All you can do is meekly jerk your head up and down, heart racing in your chest, and do your best not to whimper when he chuckles at you and says, "Good pet, just follow my lead and I'll have you rolling your r's in no time."

He doesn't give you a chance to say anything, pulling you by the scruff and leaning in to capture your lips. You instantly fail at keeping your noises in check. Pathetic little whimpers and moans get swallowed into Soap's mouth as he doesn't even attempt at easing you into the open-mouth, dirty kiss. It's sloppy and messy, but it's slow so you can follow along, even while it has you feeling like jelly.

His hand lets go of your neck, but you don't get a moment to miss it because it's quick to grip you tightly beneath the chin, fingers curling over your jaw and into your cheeks, ensuring you keep your mouth open, not that you would have closed it, despite feeling yourself drool.

You feel his tongue press incessantly against yours, playing with it, before guiding it into his mouth. He lets you feel the way he moves and positions his tongue as he begins to softly roll an r, a gentle purr-like sound producing from his throat. It's a curious thing to feel, and you're careful not to disturb him too much, but he isn't deterred. He only stops to hum in approval at your gentle exploration.

He repeats the roll a few more times before licking back into your mouth for his own exploration, moving your tongue around until it's positioned like his was. He pulls back with a filthy string of saliva breaking off and a satisfied smirk on his face. "Try rolling your r's now, darlin."

You attempt it, and while it sounds a lot better than before your lesson, you still don't quite get it.

Soap doesn't seem bothered by it, though. He just chuckles and says, "Practice makes perfect. I'll let you feel as many times as you need, darlin. Now gimme a kiss."

-

《 scene i wanted to include but couldn't:

Reader attempting to roll r's and Soap laughing at you because you 'look like a puppy trying to growl' 》

Be gentle please it's my first time writing an actual fic in a while (￣～￣；)

ugh i wanted to keep this shorter, sorry

[hyunsvngs]

READ PART 1 FIRST!

turn to your right

Turning to your right, you don’t think anything particularly interesting is going to happen. It appears to be just a path leading towards another clearing in the woods, but the random sheets of metal intrigue you. Has someone been working on something here? You want to know what is going on. Why are you here? Why have you been sent here, and why did you pick this way? 

The leaves crunch underneath your boots, ensuring that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak around if you tried. Sharp brambles like knives are obscuring your vision, and you attempt to push them out the way, only finding that it leaves tiny slashes up the skin of your arms. Strangely, it doesn’t feel as though it hurts - the only sign that anything had happened is the sight of crimson blood blooming on your skin. Sighing, you continue on, hoping to finally reach something at the end of the winding path. 

It isn’t even a path, so to speak - you’re not sure you’re actually going to end up anywhere with the lack of markings on the road. 

Until you notice the tinkering, clanging noises are getting louder. There’s a light at the end of the path, glowing yet flickering in an unstable manner and you wince, pushing the brambles out of the way so that you can finally exit the route you’d chosen. 

You gasp at what you see, hand slapping over your mouth to quiet your noise. There’s an alien standing there, pale blue antennas poking out of dark navy hair. He’s got his back to you, clad in a white shirt and baggy white trousers. You wonder how they’re so immaculate considering he seems to have been here for so long, and he’s working on what looks to be a spaceship. You’d never seen one up close before, and you stand in awe, eyes fixated on the alien. He looks weirdly human, from what you can see - tinkering away with a tiny hammer, and his cheeks puffing out in frustration when you see him from the side. His skin is light blue and looks to be glimmering, twinkling every so often when the moonlight bounces off of the spaceship just right.

You were sure he didn’t know what he was doing, and you wanted to help, for some weird reason - but your mouth was moving and you were saying something before you could even process what it was. “Alien. You’re a fucking alien.” 

“Alien?!” The man - thing? - jumps, turning to look at you. His voice is deep, and his eyes are completely pitch black - even the area that would normally be white. His legs are quivering where he’s sat on the ship. He squeals, pointing at you. “Don’t just stand there! Where’s the alien?!”

You blink, letting out a shocked laugh. “You. You’re an alien.”

He looks down at his skin, still clutching the tiny hammer in one hand. He looks at the spaceship, then turns back to you, lips twitching with a smile. “Well, yes. I thought you meant there was another one. Hey, have you seen my dog?”

“Your… dog?” You question, head tilting to the side. The alien nods, motioning at a metal food bowl on the floor. It reads ‘Fluffy’, in all capitals, and the F’s have all been written backwards. It looks to be written in shaky Sharpie. You try to suppress a smile.  

“I haven’t seen him for a while,” He explains, frowning at the bowl. “He’s black and slimy, bigger than me. His name is Fluffy, and he’s the best dog, but I’m not sure he likes me that much.” 

“Oh,” You say intelligently. “I’ll let you know if I find him. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jisung,” He finally hops off of the top of his spaceship, walking towards you with an outstretched hand. He’s taller than you, but not by much - and he’s strikingly beautiful. His skin does glimmer, especially when he’s closer to you. “Do you wanna see my spaceship?”

You nod. Was that an euphemism? You guess you’ll just have to find out, and Jisung leads you into his spaceship. It looks rather small from outside, and you obediently duck through the door when he does before you. It’s definitely bigger on the inside, random lights glinting on a control panel in front of a large glass window. Jisung looks proud, a broad smile on his face. You make sure to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at appropriate moments, nodding in approval at the scenery. 

It is kind of uncanny, everything a bright gleaming white and almost blinding you. He even has a bed in here, you note, large and four-poster with white sheets tucked neatly in the corners. It is so clean. 

“How long have you been here?” You ask, and his antennas twitch in response. He frowns, absentmindedly scratching his arm with his hand. 

“I’m not sure,” He admits, blinking around at the walls. His eyes lock on a stack of board games in the corner, next to a stack of tins of dog food. How does he even have that? “I crashed here, and I’ve had to remake my spaceship. It’s kind of strange. It’s Earth, but… it’s not. It’s not Earth. How did you end up here?”

You shrug. “I’m not sure. I woke up here, and my watch broke hours ago. I don’t really know where I am or how to get out, if I’m honest.”

Jisung stalks towards his bed, flopping on his back. His toes curl in his boots, and he kicks them off with a huff, revealing his feet clad in pristine white socks. He blinks, leaning up to look at you. He’s weirdly human for an alien, if you ignore the blue skin and the antennas that keep twitching every time you speak. 

“It’s not too bad here,” He says, hand fiddling with the white duvet. “I have a dog! There’s a fairy here, too. He’s really pretty, but- but you’re prettier.”

He’s embarrassed, you realise. If he wasn’t blue, you’d be able to see a blush on his cheeks. His antennas droop regardless, his bottom lip pouting as he avoids eye contact with you. In a moment of realisation, you shove your boots off too, walking over to join him on the bed. 

“I’ve never seen an alien before,” You admit, pulling your knees up to your chest. Jisung mirrors you, pulling himself up onto his lap to stare into your eyes. They’re quivering, uncertain. “I think you’re pretty cool. You’re blue.”

“We all are,” Jisung huffs, but he stretches his arms out nonetheless to let you see his skin. It’s as if there’s a million lines of computer code within him, making up his entire being - yet he’s still so human. He’s so much like you, uncertain and a little shy but still talking a bit too much. “My race is, anyway. I’ve never seen a human before.”

You copy him, stretching your bare arms out. His fingers run over your skin tentatively, raising goosebumps in their wake and you bristle when he touches over the cuts on your skin. He hums, running his thumb over one. 

“You’re cool,” He blurts, and then he’s holding your hand. He’s looking at you with earnest, black eyes wide. “Humans are pretty cool. I think so, at least. You’re really pretty. You’re even prettier than the fairy boy.”

You giggle, clutching his hand tighter. “You’re pretty too, Jisung. You’re very handsome. Do you not have a sweet alien girlfriend back home?”

Jisung shakes his head adamantly, creeping closer to you. “Nope. I have no one back home, apart from my parents. It’s been just me since I crashed here.”

“It must have been lonely,” You murmur. Are you… hitting on him right now? You are. You so are, and he’s going along with it, judging by the way his lips are slightly parted. His teeth are perfect, jutting out just a little but so white and straight. His antennas stick stark upright. You decide to continue, wanting to see more of his shocked expressions. “It must have been so lonely, Jisung. How did you manage all on your own?”

“I have my hand,” He blurts, blinking down at where his hand is still wrapped around yours. “Unless that’s not what you meant.”

“It is what I meant,” You coo, running your thumb over the back of his hand. Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re climbing into his lap, and he’s letting you. His hands move to your waist, eyes blinking up at you with shock. He’s so cute like this, puffy cheeks and wet, parted lips. “Do you miss having sex, Jisung?”

“I- I guess, I d’no,” His chest is heaving. He’s surprised, but he enjoys it, judging by the way his fingernails are digging into your skin through your shirt. “It does get hard, just touching myself all the time. Especially since - okay, don’t freak out. Please don’t freak out.”

You hum, running your fingernails over his antennas. He shivers with the touches. Are they sensitive? “I’m not going to freak out, baby. Tell me.”

“I have two dicks,” He whimpers when you pinch the tip of his right antenna between two fingers. He… what? It’s your turn to part your lips, a shocked breath of air coming out of you. You’re wet just from knowing that, alarmingly so. “It’s- it’s an alien thing, higher chance of breeding or whatever. So it goes in both holes, and they’re lubed, so-”

“Show me,” You command, shifting off of his lap. Jisung gasps.

“Just- just like that? You wanna see? Please, it’s gonna freak you out-”

“Jisung,” You insist, and he quivers. He likes that. He shifts backwards, and then he pulls his trousers down. He’s not wearing underwear, you notice, and he definitely does have two dicks. His first length is shorter, thicker and veinier, perfectly crafted to fit inside your pussy and drive you insane. The second one beneath the first is longer, still quite thick but not matching the first one, curved deliciously to fit inside of your asshole. His balls are heavy beneath them both, no doubt holding a lot of cum to ensure he bred you full. They’re both darker than the rest of him, a deeper blue like an ocean, entrancing to your eyes. You manage to drag your gaze away from the thick mushroom heads of his cocks for long enough to gauge his expression.

“You think it’s weird, right?” He’s embarrassed, but his erection - erections haven’t gotten a slight bit softer, still rock hard against his pubic bone. 

“Absolutely not,” You say, licking your lips. They’re dry all of a sudden. Jisung turns to you, laying flat against the bed with his dicks still out, so hard and upright. You needed them. “I don’t think it’s weird. I’m so wet right now, baby, I need to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Jisung whimpers, nodding, and then you’re straddling him again. You ensure you’re towards his thighs more, trying not to interfere with either of his erections just yet. He leans up on his forearms, and the movement results in him being a mere few inches away from you. His lips are pursed, as if he’s considering something, mind running amok.

You kiss him before he can think about whatever it is too much. His lips are soft, supple and a darker shade of blue against yours. He moans into the kiss, deep and gravelly, and your hands move to his hair again. Brushing over his antennas makes him shift underneath you, and then he pushes his tongue into your mouth. It’s dirty, wet and messy against your lips and you keen wildly against him, sucking his tongue between your lips.

He pulls away, his antennas drooping against your fingers. “I don’t just wanna kiss you. I wanna see you, please, please, let me see you. I’m not above begging, you know!”

He’s so earnest it makes you laugh, and you slip your t-shirt over your head. Jisung stares at your chest with wild, wide eyes, his erections jerking beneath your body. You’re quick to get rid of your bra too, exposing your dusky, hard nipples to the cold air inside the spaceship. 

You jolt when Jisung sucks one of your nipples into your mouth, his hands moving to cup your ass. He’s moving your hips, you realise, grinding you into the lower, longer erection. It makes you whimper, his tongue swirling around your nipple like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He even moans into your skin, hands splaying across your asscheeks and gripping into the skin tightly.

“I need you,” He moans, teeth catching your nipple just slightly. “I need you so bad, you’re so pretty. Such a pretty human, please. My cocks are so fucking hard for you, baby.”

“I can see,” You muse, moving your hands from his hair to wrap both fists around them, one in each hand. Squeezing them permits drops of precum onto your fingers, and he throws his head back, groaning. “I need you too. I need you, Jisung. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”

You’re not lying. He really is beautiful, his skin tender and glittering like sequins beneath your eyes. He grunts at your words, letting out a few exhales at the feeling of your hands wrapped around him. Before you know it, he’s swatting your hand away, flipping you over and kissing down your body. 

Jisung’s tongue runs down your nipples once again, and then his hands are making quick work of your trousers. He pops the button out of the clasp, yanking the zipper down and almost ripping them in the process of getting them off of your legs. Your underwear is revealed then, a simple cotton with a pale pink bow at the top centre, but Jisung’s eyes tell you he honestly believes you hung the damn moon. 

His antennas are stiff and upright when he finally presses his face to your centre, inhaling deeply. He whines, his tongue darting out to lick over the fabric. You let your thighs fall apart, running one hand through his soft, dark navy hair. He’s so pretty between your legs like that.

“You’re ovulating,” He murmurs, running one thumb over your clothed clit. “You’re fertile. It always tastes so much better when the pussy’s fertile.”

“Eaten a lot of pussy, Sungie?” You quip, but he simply smiles, teeth jutting out from his lips and eyes forming crescent moons.

“I’ll show you and you can guess the answer,” he suggests, and you nod, grinning. His thumbs hook into your underwear, pulling them down your legs and throwing them to wherever he threw your trousers. You lean back, preparing yourself against the sheets and staring at the crisp white ceiling. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his tongue. Jisung licks over your clit, quick little kitten licks that make you keen. His tongue is pointed, almost sharp against your folds. He only moans at your reaction, thumbs moving to part your folds and reveal your hole. You’re almost dripping from the sight of his two cocks, and Jisung licks up the wetness you’ve accumulated, tongue dipping into your hole just slightly.

“That’s it, that’s it,” You babble, hands locking into his hair. He whimpers into your folds at the praise, his body almost vibrating in between your legs as he licks up your core. He’s messy, imprecise, but you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Oh, baby, you’re so good at that.”

“Mmhm,” Jisung mumbles, muffled by your folds. The vibrations send shocks through you, leaving your toes curling in your socks. He pulls your legs up by your upper thighs, and then your legs are on his shoulders while he eats you out, fully pliant against his bed for him. You moan in response, pushing your hips up to his face. His hands are gentle as they hold your hips in place, his tongue exploring every inch of you. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart in his mouth, and Jisung's movements become more urgent.

He pulls away all of a sudden, but he’s quick to slide two slender digits inside of you, curling them up towards a spot you never even knew you had. “Do you think you’ll cum for me, baby? Please? For me?”

“Yes,” You whine, nodding. “Yes, yes, I will, suck my clit again, please-”

You’re cut off by your own wail when he takes your clit between his lips again, tongue tapping on the button underneath your clitoral hood. It’s much more sensitive like this, and combined with his fingers curling against that spot inside you… well, you’re done for. You cum with a shake and a high pitched, embarrassing moan, fingers digging into Jisung’s scalp almost painfully. He moans against your clit anyway, eyes looking impossibly darker while you come apart in his mouth, grinding your hips against his tongue.

He pulls his fingers out when you’ve finished, one hand settling on your hips to soothe you through the aftershocks. He sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, the bottom half of his face covered in your juices and leaving him looking a cool hue of shiny blue. 

“Mm, so sweet. I was right,” He looks like the cat who got the cream, and you groan, playfully kicking his shoulder. He blinks down at you and then he’s gasping, eyes fixated on something below your pussy. “I didn’t eat your ass! I didn’t even prep it. Okay, you can only take one dick today or-”

You grab him by the wrists, yanking him over you. He squeals in shock before he’s sighing at the feeling of his cockhead running through your pussy lips. He’s so easily distracted. It’s cute. “Push it in. I don’t care, you said they’re lubed. I want both of them.”

Jisung gasps, shaking his head. “It’ll hurt. Baby, it’ll hurt you, and I never wanna hurt you.”

“Put them both in, Jisung, or I’m not giving you anything,” You demand, and then you’re pulling your legs up to your chest. The position has both slick cockheads pressing at your holes, and he whimpers before he’s nodding impatiently. You watch as he rips his t-shirt off of his upper body by the back collar, throwing it aside. His shoulders are broad, seamlessly transitioning into a tiny, slender waist and toned biceps. He positions your knees on his shoulders, seemingly ignoring your ogling at his body. Oh. It’ll be deep like this. Almost like he’s trying to-

“I wanna breed you like this,” Jisung whimpers, using one hand to position his first cock at your pussy. “Can I? Please, baby, please. Lemme breed you, let me, please, I’ve been good makin’ you cum, and-”

“Breed me,” You sigh, eyes almost rolling back into your head. He nods, and then his cock is pushing inside you, raw and unprotected. The first shaft is veiny, thick against your already fluttering walls. Before you have a chance to adjust, his second cock breaches against your asshole. The slide is lubed like he said it would be, but the stretch still makes you suck in a sharp breath of air. You can’t deny it feels fucking amazing. 

“Baby. Oh, my baby, my baby,” He’s babbling, hips rocking steadily against yours. It is deep like this, with your knees pushed up on his shoulders, and it looks like you’re not the only one that’s finding it hard to handle. “You’re so tight, fuckin’- shit, shit, baby, can I move? Can I fuck you properly, please, I’m gonna fucking blow.”

“Do all aliens have such dirty mouths?” You giggle, fingers digging into the sheets. Jisung huffs, antennas drooping with embarrassment. He’s trying so hard to stop moving his hips, trying to wait for the green light, and you feel bad for him. “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Be a good boy.”

Jisung gasps, nodding, and then he’s fucking you. He’s fucking into you like a rabbit, hips slamming against your ass with every thrust. You’re not faring any better. He’s so good at this, so good at using his hips to please you, and you can’t handle the sensation of being full like this. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to fuck anyone else again, man or woman. 

His cocks are both thick inside you, and you feel so stretched. The lubed appendages ensure that the spaceship is now being filled with wet, slick noises upon every thrust, and Jisung’s whining against your neck, his head dropping into the crook of your skin. 

“‘S so good, so good,” Jisung’s voice is high pitched, and you coo, your own breath shaky when you run your fingers over his antennas again. You feel his cocks twitch inside you at the sensation, against the deepest spots inside of you. “I don’t think I’m gonna last, I w’na cum inside so bad, please, baby, please.”

You whine, canting your hips up into his. “I’m not gonna last long, Sungie, just a bit more. I promise, baby, just a bit more, can you hang on for me?”

Jisung nods, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips move mindlessly. His hips are pressing against yours with each thrust, and you can feel every inch of his hard erections inside of you. You moan in pleasure as he continues to move in and out of you, his pace increasing with each thrust. 

“Baby, baby, please. Cum for me, cum for your baby boy, please,” His breathing is ragged and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart for him for the second time, no doubt about to soak his cocks thoroughly. You both gasp and moan in unison, your hands gripping Jisung’s biceps and your ass pushing back against his hips. You feel like you're about to fall apart, and Jisung is loving every moment of it, judging by the blissed out grin on his face. 

The pleasure is overwhelming and you feel yourself reaching your second orgasm, toes curling in your socks. You cum with a full body quiver, pussy clenching impossibly tighter around his cocks and then Jisung wails, his head dropping closer to you and nipping at your skin.

“G’na- gonna cum, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” He’s babbling, letting out tiny little ‘ah’s with every thrust and making you gasp at the overstimulation. After half a dozen more movements, his hips finally still, and then he’s filling you up. The amount of his cum shocks you, oozing and gushing out of both of your tight holes and staining his pristine white sheets. It spills out around his cocks, and he looks down at your core, groaning at the sight. He pulls out just to slap his cockhead on your clit once, smearing the cum around, and then he collapses by your side. 

You let him pull you into his chest, his lips kissing your hairline chastely. Your own hand moves to run your fingernails down his chest. “That was so good. You are fuckin’ amazing, so pretty.”

“What now?” You huff, head pressed against his pecs. You’re entranced by drawing shapes on his skin, the way the hearts you draw turn white before they fade away. 

“Well, forgive me if I’m being too forward, but… how would you like to come home with me?”

You gasp, leaning up to look at him. He’s biting his lip nervously. “Jisung, this spaceship works?!”

Jisung scoffs. “Yeah! I haven’t just been working on it for nothing, baby. It’s fully functional.”

“You’re kidding me,” You giggle, slapping his chest playfully. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

wc: 3.9k

sw: alien jisung who has two cocks, cum, breeding kink, oral (f!rec), unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, sub jisung maybe

a/n: ITS HEREEEE I HOPE UR ALL SURPRISED N GO CRAZY AND ALSO INSANE <3 - juno

[oromaangel]

A Family Day at the Beach

Nanami Kento x fem! Reader

Tags: Pure sweet almost sickly fluff, Domestic, pregnancy, SFW, Alternative Universe, I was watching a bunch of Nara Smith videos and needed an outlet before I ended up getting married and having a real-life baby

w/c: 2,083

Based on this moodboard I made

For reference son is around 5 years old, older daughter is around 3, baby is almost 1 and the fetus is a fetus.

Dividers by @soulari

Nanami walked leisurely across the shore line of Kuantan watching his son and daughter in pure amusement as they poked and prodded at a displeased crab.

He had warned them earlier to leave the animal alone, that its claws would pinch their little fingers however, they insisted that the crab come back to live in their sand castle and that it had simply lost its way home. He couldn’t argue with that.

So for the better part of half an hour he had joined his kids in the slow journey guiding “Mr. Grabs” back home. And finally after a lifetime of traversing the sand dunes, the sand castle was in view.

“Almost there Mr. Grabs” his daughters sweet voice offered words of encouragement gently tapping the crabs hard exterior with a twig in the hope to jolst in further ahead. His son however, has grown restless over this whole ordeal.

“UGHHHH Can this thing be any slower” his son puffed, squeezing at his blonde tendrils in frustration. Nanami let out a breathy laugh recounting that at least all the lessons he had taught them both on patience had an effect on one of the children.

In that moment of positive recollection, he glanced upwards towards the sky soaking in the warmth from the rays above.

Big Mistake.

His knee-length clone identified this slight second of distraction from the adult present which gave him enough time to make his move. Nanami should have expected this, kids are like predators, waiting for a moment of weakness from their prey (their parents) before striking and doing something stupid. Alas just as quickly as his happy memories started to play, it ended with the shrill shriek of his daughter.

“Put him down” she screamed as she watched her brother pick up Mr Grabs and run in the direction of the sand castle. Before Nanami could open his mouth she had taken off after her brother, swinging her plastic toy shovel in the air. Standing there in the cloud of sand dust left by his children Nanami mused the idea of yelling at both of them to stop knowing they would both immediately listen but something tickled in the back of his head reminding him that this would be a great parenting lesson to have up his sleeve so he resigned to watching this small bout of madness play out already knowing how it would end.

His son looked back at his sisters expression taunting her with a toothy grin “I’m just faster than you-“

“Three, two, one…” like magic Nanami counted in his head and as soon as the clock struck midnight his son’s face began to contort. First confusion, then pain, then….

Every beachgoer in the near vicinity, grimaced at the ear splitting scream let out by the little boy as he began to flay his arm attempting to unattach a very pissed off crab from his appendage. Pushing the smug parent grin to the back of his mind Nanami approached the panicked child and removed the crustacean from his body, tossing it to the side and watching as it hurriedly scuttled away.

“Errrrr, Kento!” Your voice slashed through the moment “When I said watch the kids, watching them get bitten by crabs was not what I had in mind!” You grumbled, awkwardly manoeuvring yourself upwards, your round pregnant belly throwing off your centre of gravity causing you to stumble slightly in your ascent. Beside you your youngest child babbled happily in the sand, unaware of the distress her older siblings were in.

Nanami grinned sheepishly “It’s alright dear no one got hurt” he held the blushing boys arm as proof of his claim “Lie back done and get some rest” he cooed sweetly. Although your eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he could feel the daggers aimed in his direction before you sighed and laid back down in the sun chair, picking back up the mother magazine you were reading.

He knelt down wordlessly and analysed the boy's wound, the finger was pinched pink but otherwise no skin was broken and no damage was caused other than to his ego. Smiling sweetly at his son, his lecture to the sniffling child on patience and respecting animals had begun in the most serious tone he could muster with that heavenly ‘Told you so’ feeling swimming in the back of his mind. His son stared at the ground, he hated being scolded by Nanami despite the fact his father never raised his voice or berated him his tone always carried a serious level of discipline and respect that could make a bird feel bad for singing. Nanami didn't like scolding either but he knew it was important to ensure his children stayed on the right path and represented him and his wife's hard work well. The boy nodded wordlessly once Nanami had reached his concluding message and reached out to hug his father's open arms buring his face into the older man's chest.

This was your fourth child with Nanami yet you were still a bundle of nerves preparing for their arrival. Being so close in age with your youngest (completely unplanned on your part, SOMEONE can’t keep their hands and other body parts to themselves) you worried about dividing your attention equally between the under twos and also how much sleep you would be able to get with breastfeeding two mouths.

You had read countless advice columns and mommy blogs warning about the dangers of having kids too close in age, critiquing mothers with large families on their ability to love and provide attention to all their children equally, and seen countless posts warning about the dangers of just about everything you currently did raising your young family. Doubt began to fill your head and despite having three little ones you felt like a new mother learning to do the correct things all over again.

Nanami did his best to ease your anxiety with foot rubs and affirming words reminding you that you both were a team and that he was ready to take on the sleepless nights again, even suggesting hiring a full time nanny to live in the house during the first few months to make the newborn stage easier. You declined his offer, despite home-care being cheaper in Malaysia it would still eat into a large chuck on his savings that could be allocated better elsewhere. Plus you had just watched a video of kids saying that they liked their nanny more than their moms which only added to your growing anxiety.

Nanami had noticed your behaviour change, especially after you began to second guess whether or not you'd vaccinate the baby and seriously discussed giving birth at home in the tub with no nurse or midwife. He shot down these ideas immediately, insisting that he would not be putting you or his children through that extra stress based on conspiracy theories and fear-mongering. He had started to worry about how all the 'online garbage' was affecting your sanity and mental health during your third trimester and insisted on having a no-technology day at the beach to ease your worries.

After another great parenting lesson was concluded Nanami made his way towards his moody wife. Your grouchiness never bothered him, in fact, it was one of his favourite parts of pregnancy. Seeing you become tender and over-emotional and knowing exactly how to squeeze a smile out of you in those moments was his greatest pleasure and partially why you both had formed a little league football team worth of children in such a short amount of time.

“There are my sweet girls” he approached the cheery baby on the ground first, casually removing the fist full of sand that was making its way to her open mouth and peppering kisses across her chubby cheeks causing her to bubble over in laughter. Music to his ears.

“And my favourite girl” he grinned placing the baby on his hip and crouching beside you on the chair. You glanced away from your magazine and scoffed at the slight on your husband’s over-exaggerated kissy face he was making at you.

“No kisses for me?” He asked playfully cocking his head to the side. You rolled your eyes and placed a single chaste kiss on his lips but before you could pull yourself away, you felt a large hand on the back of your neck , keeping you in place as he deepened the kiss. You mumbled incoherently into his mouth for a second before giving in to the affection placing a soft hand on the side of his face. After what felt like an eternity, this kiss was interrupted by a small disapproving smack from the baby on his side who began claw at both of your faces clearly distressed by this public display of affection.

Giggles enveloped the both of you whilst affectionately watching the baby crawl back to the pile of toys in the sand once placed on the ground.

“Still reading that magazine love? Nanami asked glancing at the the object in question “Honestly, we’ve done this three times already I don’t know what other advice you could possibly need or how much more equipment we could fit in the nursery” he grunted as he stood up from the sand balancing at the edge of your sun-bed.

Rolling your eyes you folded up the magazine placing it out of sight “There’s always some thing new to learn with these things, like the new Montessori school opening nearby and there’s these baby bottles that are shaped like real nipples to help with latching, and a bassinet that rocks the baby for you! It’s called the SNOO it’s about eight thousand Ringgits but we can buy it second hand” Nanami playfully groaned at your rambling shifting his body until he laying between your thighs leaving small kisses where he could reach.

“Are you even listening to me Kento? I said it says here that plastic nappies are actually bad for babies skin and that plastic bottles can cause eczema” He hummed absentmindedly in response resulting in a pout from you and a flick to the forehead.

Brushing off your annoyance he pointed his finger in the direction of your two oldest children who were engrossed in a very intense game of tag “Look over there love”

You winced slightly at the blow your daughter had delivered to her brother back once she caught up with him suppressing your giggle as he face-planted into the floor before getting up and taking after his assailant at full speed.

“And over here” he again pointed to the baby playing “Can I eat that?” in the sand beside them.

“You raised all of these kids just fine without all that nonsense, we’re going to be just fine” he kissed your thighs again caressing small circles into you while his eyes remained half-lidded.

You huffed again staring down at your caring husband allowing yourself to relax at his touch. Maybe he was right, all your babies were happy and healthy and you kept them alive for this long and anonmom2567 couldn't be THAT much better at parenting than you afterall.

"You're probably right Ken" you sighed again closing your eyes and relaxing back into the sunbed, he smiled lazily into your thighs content that his plan had worked and that he could reduce some of his wife’s troubles. The sound of gentle waves and chatter lulled you both into comfortable silence appreciating the wonderful weather, coastal air, and beautiful sky.

Of course as a parent silence meant trouble was afoot.

After a few minutes of this blissful silence you turnt to find your baby was not at her pile of blocks. You immediantly shot up and began to scan the area horrified to see your baby a considerable distance away (how'd she even crawl that fast???) at another families beach set up eating a popsicle from a cooing older lady.

"Aren't you just the most precious little angel" she fawned over your littlest one who was already scanning what they would eat next.

Not only that your oldest son had decided that the most adequet punishment for the slap he had recieved earlier was digging his younger sister neck deep in the sand.

Nanami followed your eyes to the scenes before him and let out a loud laugh, getting up to dig out the now-crying child while you retrieved your baby escape artist.

You were going to be just fine.

A/N: My second public fic omgggg hope you enjoyed. I was binge watching a bunch of Nara Smiths content and decided that I need to write my own young family AU before I messed around and married a mormon

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello Hal,

Congratulations on 5k followers <3 I’m so happy for you honey!!, for the request can we get a cute fluff short story with roach please ? You can do whatever you want w it !

Have fun and congrats again :)

—Raining Cats and Dogs

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Roach has a deep love of storms.] ❞

It was raining more in the last few hours than it had in the entire month, with a constant deluge of harsh winds and the occasional lightning strike; the rumble of dark-clouded thunder above the roof. Yet here, snuggling on the couch, you and Gary reveled in it. 

The curtains were open to watch the raindrops, your cheek to the man’s chest as the warmth of the fireplace made you sleepy. There was no vacancy of comfort in this living room, Gary’s fingertips traveling up and down the length of your spine as the minutes slid into hours. The air was heavy with sappy heat, the thin blanket long pushed down past your shoulder blades. 

His breath was puffing against your forehead, your nose situated in the junction of his chin. Gary was humming, too. A tiny little melody that neither of you could name—perhaps it wasn’t even a conscious symphony, just a mess of rough pitches and whatever he felt sounded good enough for your ears. You weren’t complaining, even if he was no lyricist. 

His arm at your waist tightens, pulling you closer as he nuzzles his nose into your head with a tiny grunt. 

Gary’s eyes are half-closed, the deep well of color soft and as malleable as clay. There was no need to speak to one another, no, in moments like these, the silence spoke for the both of you. The crackle of fire, the slam of rain; soft inhalations of your lungs. You press a warm kiss into his neck, and Gary’s lips pull into a tiny smile, his fingers digging into your flesh that yields to him as his gaze glints. 

His chest reverberates with a hum, purring like a cat while a smug expression litters the lax lines of his face. With a gentle shift of his body, the man settles your back to the cushions as he shimmies to loom above you, blanket tying the both of you together in its fabric arms. 

Gary’s hand is under your shirt, the wide hold of his grip cupping your opposite hip from behind as he suddenly collapses atop you with a sigh. You grunt, before a tiny fit of wheezed giggles escapes your lungs, the weight of his body no concern as his head shoves itself into your stomach, legs out behind him with one hanging off the edge. Head against the pillow, your warm hands rub through Gary’s hair, carding through the locks as he loses all focus and sags—eyes fluttering at the scrape of your nails. 

You both release a long breath as a slash of lightning slices the dark world outside; neither of you flinches, not even the Sergeant in your grip, when the thunder rolls through. There wasn’t anything to fear in this house, and there never would be. 

So, Gary gradually succumbs to the ministrations of your touch, his humming tapering off until nothing but his gentle snores give you their song. You continue to play with his hair, thumb rubbing circles. 

The fire burns on, the storm continues its rampage, and the lovers fall to sleep in each other’s arms.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Here!”

Stiles slams something down on the coffee table to the left of Derek's (Stiles's) laptop.

Derek is searching online, only a little psychotically, in the hope of finding a store that sells these very specific organic coffee beans he tried in a hipster coffee house recently. Derek isn't a hipster—he isn't—he just likes nice coffee, is all. Really, he should have asked the barista to find out not just the brand name but their supplier's address too because this is driving him insane. Maybe he is insane? More likely just incredibly shit at the internet, but he thinks he'd prefer to plead insanity if challenged.

Derek unknits his eyebrows and looks down at… a green thing. It's sort of feather shaped and has many spindles with bronzed edges.

It's a leaf.

His eyebrows knit themselves back together as he blinks down at the thing a couple of times.

“It's a leaf,” he says, because he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Then he looks up—and back and forth at Stiles who is now pacing the apartment and alternating between clicking his fingers and flicking his thumbs and shaking his arms out at the sides of his body; his stimming can get pretty extra when he's anxious.

Derek's frown deepens with immediate concern. He must've really been deep in it with the infuriating Google searching to not have noticed the smell of Stiles's distress when his mate first arrived home.

“Hey, what's—”

“Yes, Derek, it's a leaf. It is a leaf that I brought all the way home. For you. From the cemetery.”

He's still pacing.

“Okay, well do you want to tell me—“

“It's an Apology Leaf. Obviously.”

Obviously.

“And, Derek, do not laugh, because—"

“I won't but could you just—“

“—this isn't funny. I'm ridiculous, I know, and I know that that's funny. But this? This is decidedly deeply unfunny, alright? This is totally not at all funny, Derek. It's like, a thing without one tiny ounce of humour in it, as in not the slightest bit funny in a gazillion sombre years. Do you hear me?” He inhales deeply, holds the breath, then blows it out harshly via puffed-out cheeks as he clicks and flails some more.

Derek hears Stiles and is of course prepared to wait for him to explain whatever this is, because Derek would wait for Stiles until the end of time, if he had to. Although that's not likely a thing to happen in any reality as this is Stiles who can't go for longer than fifteen seconds without talking. But still, Derek thinks it's the sentiment that counts. 

“You, Derek Hale, are good, and someone as good as you deserves somebody far, far better than a ratbag like me. Hence the leaf,” Stiles now tells him in a rush of even more confusing words, his chemo-signals tinged with shame for some worrying reason Derek is yet to discern.

Stiles glances over anxiously from his place of animated, mysterious penance—and then looks away again just as quickly while still trying to wear footprints into the recently painted varnish on the wooden floor of their new apartment.

Derek is clueless as to the cause of Stiles's meltdown, but neither things are a first. Stiles struggles sometimes—just like Derek does, who has plenty of his own outbursts (albeit more moody than vocal) that Stiles has to Private Dick his way through.

Derek is also trying his best not to worry too much about thinking that this is somehow his fault, so now sets his mind on attempting to marry these seemingly unrelated things in his head.

He thinks about the facts he's been presented with:

What is, at an educated guess, a Pacific Yew leaf.

and

Stiles's rather unhinged and self-deprecating dig at himself-slash-compliment for Derek.

...Yeah, no, he's not getting better at this game any time soon. 

“Uh,” he says helpfully, and Stiles rolls his eyes in that Do I really have to do everything myself around here? way of his which, rude.

Good job Derek loves the kook.

“It was just sitting there, on top of my mom's gravestone when I got there,” Stiles says quietly, incredulously, gesturing at the innocuous leaf.

Then he's off again with the pacing.

“And I knew, straight away, I knew,” he says, getting louder again and laughing in this accusatory sort of way, pointing somewhere into the ether, eyes manic.

Derek scratches his nose. He hopes he will soon know, too, because honestly, he's kind of blindfolded in the dark here.

“She was obviously telling me what a dipshit I was! What a douche I am! A massive ass-hat! Total loser!”

“I mean, that's mostly fair, but maybe total loser is a little strong.” Derek will often speak Stiles's language when Stiles is freaking out, using humour to try and ground him. 

Stiles carries on as if Derek hadn’t said anything.

“And I was like, Come on, mom, give me a break, will you? and she was like Seriously, Mischief? You really wouldn't let the special person in your life, your special little guy—”

“You can just say boyfriend, Stiles.”

“—come with you to the cemetery to visit me? Like, as if with that leaf she was reminding me that you are the one person who actually gets this shit, which, I do know. Of fucking course I know. And then—get this—I swear to God, Derek, I felt her literally slapping me upside the head! No fucking word of a lie, man. Like, thousands wouldn't believe me. Millions. They'd say that it must have been the wind or my incredibly vivid imagination. But I know, Der. I know that it was her,” Stiles continues with the confession without stopping for breath.

Derek has thought it before and he'll think it again: the kid's lung capacity is seriously impressive.

“And I also know that I totally should've said yes when you asked me if I wanted you to come with me to the cemetery this morning. Because the thing is, I did want you to. I really, really did. But I just… I just…”

Stiles starts slapping himself on the forehead with both his hands and Derek has had enough of that already. He gets up off the sofa and walks over to Stiles, catching those slim wrists in his grip, gentle yet firm.

“Please don't,” Derek says, imploring Stiles to stop. Derek can understand frustration, but can't stand Stiles hurting himself.

Stiles deflates a little. He then takes a step towards Derek and leans in, resting his forehead against Derek's, their noses lining up like penguins.

“I just—I should have said yes to you when you asked because I honestly, truthfully wanted you there. It's just that I've only ever been there with my Dad. And even then, not as many times as you might think. Not even Scotty has been there with me. It's just a place—it's usually something I do alone. You know?” Stiles' front teeth worry at his pretty lip. 

And yes, Derek does know.

So he says, “Because you feel guilt, right? Even though there isn't a thing in this universe or any other that you should feel guilty about.”

Guilt just for being alive. 

Slightly cross-eyed with the proximity and angle, Stiles looks at Derek in a way that says he knows just how much Derek knows about this stuff.

“Yeah. Yes, exactly. And I guess I didn't know how to be that with somebody else around.”

“But Stiles, that's completely—”

“No, Der. It isn't, actually. Because you're not just somebody else. It's you. And I'm in love with you.” Stiles finally takes a breath while Derek's heart is busy swelling to twice it's size. He will never tire of hearing Stiles Stilinski say those words to him. “And I absolutely should've trusted in that. In us.”

It is, of course, completely fine that Stiles went to the cemetery alone to visit his mother, but Derek also gets where the kid is coming from. He too takes a breath, now, a big one, because this kind of stuff doesn't come as easily for him as it does Stiles.

He swallows his nerves and pushes on.

“I love you, Stiles. And it's alright that we're not perfect. Neither of us are. Us—you and me—we're both just… Finding our way.”

After a moment, Stiles adds, “Together.”

They smile at each other like huge dorks.

“Yeah.” Derek breathes, and his heart might just burst.

Derek scents Stiles, and Stiles breathes deeply too, now. “Thanks,” he says, then Derek kisses him, just as deep and for a long while, because it's his favourite thing to do in the whole damn world.

Eventually Derek pulls back, runs a thumb over Stiles's mouth and says, “You know what?”

Stiles's brow lifts inquisitively.

Derek lets go of Stiles's wrist and takes his hand instead, leading him back to the sofa and sitting them both down squarely by the coffee table where he had been sat fruitlessly Googling not so long ago.

“I believe you,” Derek says.

Stiles frowns. “Huh?” It's his turn to be confused.

“Millions wouldn't, but I believe you, Stiles. About your mom.”

He reaches across and picks up the Apology Leaf, cradling it for a brief moment in his palm before nudging at Stiles's hand and urging him to take it, which he does.

Derek then grabs the laptop, side-eyeing his previous Google search—WHO NEAR ME SELLS PHOENIX ROAST ORGANIC COFFEE BEANS THAT TASTE LIKE HOME—and forcing himself not to get instantly sucked back into that particularly vexing nightmare, while also trying his best to angle the screen away from Stiles who, if he saw, would fall off the sofa laughing at Derek's admittedly pathetic research skills.

Not everybody is a… Technophile? Cyberpunk? Derek has no fucking clue about any of this shit.

With Stiles now passing comment on the aesthetic qualities of the Apology Leaf, Derek uses both index fingers to tap out the words of the thing he wants to look up, taking no notice of Stiles who is trying his annoying not-very-best to smirk at Derek's sorry efforts in Derek's periphery. Clicking through a few different links, this time Derek manages to find what he's after without any trouble, amazingly. He then hands the laptop over to Stiles, who carefully places the leaf down on the arm of the sofa beside him before fully taking the computer from Derek. 

Stiles purses those pretty lips of his as he scans the information on screen, squinting a little.

“Uh, well yeah. It's like you said, Der; It's a leaf. From a Yew, according to this.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Your mother's ghost is infinitely more clever than you.” Stiles's squint deepens further. “Stiles, she is absolutely spot on about this. Just—scroll down the page a bit, dumbass,” and he ducks his head and smiles, seeing as accusing Stiles of Internet-related Dumbassery is really fucking funny because, irony. 

Stiles tuts but does as he's told.

Derek gives him a minute to read the passage on the website he found. It says:

The Yew tree can live for many, many years. It has deep connections with magic and the universe. It was regarded as the protector of the soul by the ancient Greeks. You’ll find this tree planted at many burial sites throughout the world as it’s recognized as a guardian of the dead.

It is believed that Odin (from the Nordic legend) hung himself from the Yew for nine days and nights. It’s symbolic of its everlasting and regenerative properties and is often associated with transformation and change after a difficult time. The Celtic tradition honours the Yew tree for symbolising death and rebirth.

Stiles is smiling this gorgeous, open smile by the time he's finished reading, and Derek makes an unrealistic wish to be able to keep it there forever.

“So, you were right,” Derek says, “when you said that she knew. You were just a little mixed up about what, is all.” Derek takes another deep breath. “What your mom knows is that you got the chance to begin again, Stiles. After all the shit we went through, you actually got to start over. With somebody who will absolutely protect your soul with their life.”

Stiles suddenly blinks furiously, like somebody just threw salt in his eyes.

“And you knew it, that she knew... something,” Derek smiles back, lovingly, before that smile turns a little wry. “It's just that you were kind of—now, how should I put this…?”

“No. Do not do it!” Stiles shouts—instantly catching on because he'd easily be the brightest bulb in any box—and he's pointing again, at Derek this time. “Puns are my stupid thing, you charlatan, and I can and will sue!” he warns, outraged yet smiling again as he wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“—barking up the wrong tree,” Derek finishes, his smile now positively wolfish.

Stiles shakes his head and narrows his eyes, but he's chuckling, too as he says, “You do remember that it's you who's the canine in this relationship, right, 'wolf? If anybody's going to be making barking sounds, it's you.”

“Speciesist,” Derek quips.

Stiles pokes his tongue out. Then he's quiet for a few seconds (but definitely no more than fifteen).

“You know, I really was wrong when I said you deserve better than me. We actually absolutely deserve each other, Hale. Because it turns out we are both humongous assholes.”

After a moment, Derek grins more.

“Well, I would have answered that with I love my asshole, but you had to go and use the word humongous, and there's no way I would say that about my asshole—even though I would have technically been talking about you when I said it, seeing as it's actually you that is my favourite asshole.” And he pulls a rare, goofy face, just for Stiles, who laps it up. “Also, thinking about it, I would also have to say that loving my actual asshole is, in fact," he points at Stiles, “your job.” 

Stiles dramatically slaps a hand over Derek's mouth.

“Oh my God, Derek, stop! My ghostly mother could be listening in to us right now! Jeez, dude, have a little decorum, won't you?!” And if Stiles saying that isn't ironic, Derek really doesn’t know what is.

“Sorry, mom!” 

Grinning even more, Derek pushes Stiles's hand away from his face.

“Hey, wanna know the coolest thing?” he asks.

“Why in the name of anything sacred did you bother posing that as a question, Der? Like, when would I ever say no to that?”

Derek leans over and kisses Stiles again, soft and languid this time. The boy's lips are dry and warm and he tastes just like autumn.

Stiles hums and smiles into Derek's mouth as if he really, truly does love Derek. 

After another glorious moment, Derek pulls back, looks at Stiles and says, “Yew trees aren't even native to this part of California.”

.

for @greyhavenisback my beloved <3 sorry i'm a dipshit, douche, massive ass-hat and a total loser, sometimes xp

(i got the info on tree symbolism HERE btw)

[armthearmour]

Steel Brocade: Puffed & Slashed Costume Armor

Surviving to this day in the collections of the world’s most illustrious museums are a group of three armors. These armors have much in common, but most striking is the attempts made by their armorers to render in steel a convincing portrayal of the puffed and slashed clothing fashionable to the early 16th century.

Though this fashion is synonymous with the landsknecht mercenaries who may have been responsible for popularizing it, the puffed and slashed style was enjoyed by members at all levels of society.

Portrait of Duke Henry of Saxony by Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1514, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden.

The earliest of these three armors is housed at the Wallace Collection. Consisting only of a cuirass and arms, this armor is, at first glance, rather underwhelming when compared with the other armors in this group. Though the embossed bands styled with etched slashes embellished with gold provide the impression of a puffed and slashed doublet, the execution is all rather stiff, and lacks the impressive volume and fullness exemplified by the other armors.

It is for this reason that this armor, previously considered contemporary to the KHM and Metropolitan examples, has received relatively little attention. However, recent scholarship by Dr. Tobias Capwell suggests that this work is not, indeed, contemporary to the other examples, and is rather about ten years older, dating to ca. 1515. Dr. Capwell also considers this piece to be the work of Konrad Seusenhofer, a favored armorer of the Emperor Maximilian I.

Seen through this lens, not as a poorly executed contemporary of greater armors, but as a less developed ancestor to them, this armor takes on new life. It speaks to innovation and experimentation; an early attempt at a technique which would later be perfected.

The second in this line is the garniture of Wilhelm von Rogendorf, housed at the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna.

This armor is unique for its condition, which is remarkably good. Not only does this armor retain more of its pieces than the other two, it is also accompanied by a number of “pieces of exchange,” elements which could be swapped out so the armor could be worn in the field.

Finished in 1523, as attested to by the date etched on the right shoulder strap, this armor was made for the Count Wilhelm von Rogendorf by Kolman Helmschmid and etched by Daniel Hopfer.

Wilhelm von Rogendorf himself was heir to a new, up-and-coming German noble family.

A medal showing Wilhelm von Rogendorf as a Knight of the Order of Calavatra, dated 1536, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.

Born in 1481 the second son of Kaspar von Rogendorf, Wilhelm became heir to his family’s estates when his elder brother Sigmund died in 1507, by which time Wilhelm was already a courtier at the Habsburg court. He entered into the service of King Charles I of Spain (later Emperor Charles V) no later than 1517 and was appointed Governor of Friesland. In 1522, Wilhelm accompanied Charles to Spain where he commanded a regiment of 4,000 landsknechts and was again placed in charge of a restless border territory. In 1524, he successfully captured the Fortress of Fuenterrabía from the French, which won him great praise from the Emperor. Shortly thereafter, Wilhelm was named Captain of the Imperial Bodyguard and given the governorships of Catalonia, the Cerdagne, and the Roussillon. Additionally, he was appointed to the Spanish chivalric Order of Calavatra. Wilhelm would retire from court in 1539, but would be recalled in 1541 to command Imperial troops against the Ottomans in Hungary. He would be killed later that same year at the siege of Buda by a stray cannonball.

Though Wilhelm’s armor is now displayed in its parade configuration, the surviving pieces of exchange attest to the fact that it was also an armor for combat. The cuirass is equipped with the long tassets common to the early 16th century. A pair of holes can be observed at the top of the last lame.

These holes correspond to holes at the top of the half-cuisses which accompany this armor, showing that these cuisses would be pointed to the tassets rather than worn separately.

In the rear, the cuirass is accompanied by a rump-defense, also known as a hoguine. Small turning pins near the waist allow this to be removed for combat.

Both spaulders

and gauntlets

survive. Additionally, the KHM retains the armor’s right vambrace

while the Wallace Collection holds the rerebrace and couter for the left arm.

Recently, these pieces were assembled to show what the arm harness for field as a single unit would have looked like.

This armor would also have been accompanied by a gorget, now missing, and a helmet. Frequently, this armor is displayed alongside a close-helmet, however it is more likely the armor would have been accompanied by a burgonet similar in form to this example from the KHM.

One final, unique surprise this armor holds is a hidden lance rest which is incorporated into the turned edge by the right arm. This rest folds down to allow a light lance to be braced atop it, and when folded up, is nearly invisible so as to not ruin the smooth surface of the breastplate with the prominent staples typically required for affixing a lance rest.

The third and final armor of this group is housed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

The least complete of these three armors, it may also be the most visually impressive. Comprised of only a backplate, hoguine, and arms, the puffs and slashes of this piece (also by Kolman Helmschmid and Daniel Hopfer) are ornately cusped. The slashed regions, displaying the gilded “fabric” beneath, and heavily etched to resemble an expensive silk brocade.

The sleeves of this armor are even more voluminous than those of the Rogendorf armor, though they are similarly articulated and provide the wearer with a surprising degree of mobility. It is thought that this armor may have been made for prominent Polish nobleman Jerzy Herkules Radziwill.

Interestingly, the hoguine of this armor is composed of two separate plates, rather than a single solid plate. Where the hoguine of the other two armors terminates in a decorative fabric border, the Met armor continues into two more articulated lames, covering the top rear of the thighs. Holes along the bottom edge suggest that this armor may have been accompanied by fully enclosing cuisses which pointed to the bottom of the fauld and hoguine.

Sources

“A Pair of Gauntlets.” Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien. https://www.khm.at/de/object/540164/.

“A Pair of Spaulders with Besagews.” Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien. https://www.khm.at/de/object/372772/.

Cranach, Lucas the Elder. “Portrait of Duke Henry of Saxony.” Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden. https://skd-online-collection.skd.museum/Details/Index/246875.

Krause, Stefan. Fashion in Steel. Vienna: Kunsthistorisches Museum, 2017.

“Landsknecht Costume Armour.” Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien. https://www.khm.at/de/object/372771/.

“Left Upper Cannon and Couter.” The Wallace Collection. https://wallacelive.wallacecollection.org:443/eMP/eMuseumPlus?service=ExternalInterface&module=collection&objectId=60736&viewType=detailView.

“Open Burgonet.” Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien. https://www.khm.at/en/object/503346/.

“Parts of an Armour.” The Wallace Collection. https://wallacelive.wallacecollection.org:443/eMP/eMuseumPlus?service=ExternalInterface&module=collection&objectId=60519&viewType=detailView.

“Portions of a Costume Armor.” The Metropolitan Museum of Art. https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/27790.

“Vambrace.” Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien. https://www.khm.at/de/object/372773/.

“Wilhelm von Rogendorf.” Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien. https://www.khm.at/de/object/1409642/

.

[cod-sins]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed

[A/N: I didn't proofread this so if you see a mistake no you did not.]

[Edit: I can't seem to add a read more option fellow mobile users I am so sorry]

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. I see König standing at a whopping 6'10 (because I say so) meaning he's a big guy. He has trouble finding clothes that fit his size (especially pants). He gets alot of his civilian clothes tailored or he just has his Oma [ :')] do it for him. I imagine he wears a size 49 in European shoes (16 for Americans) and he prefers boots and sneakers instead of sandals and loafers. His usual outfits include plain colored tees, a jacket (usually dark colors; black, navy blue, hunter green), sweatpants [show off that dickprint] and combat boots. König doesn't wear his hood out in public, so he settles for black or blue surgical masks. He doesn't want to draw anymore attention to himself so dressing casual is his way to go. He's got big meaty thighs and hard abs with a sharp prominent v-line (mwah) to tie it all together.

‣. König has a cleft lip! It's on the right side of his mouth, he hated it as a child but grew up to realize it was apart of him. He has scars on his forearm from a hostile trying to slash him. They run deep and it was a pretty painful experience for him (he hates talking about it and he tries to wear long sleeved clothes but sometimes the weather ends up winning). He also has a bullet scar on his thigh as well. He keeps his nails short except one or two just in case he needs to pick something or scratch. I imagine his hair to be a soft strawberry blonde color. Something like this, this, and this. Because of the military he keeps it very short but he likes when his s/o styles it around. It looks similar to these styles. Despite what canon says I say his eyes are deep green.

‣. König is a Libra! His birthdate is August 22, 1995! [I know Libra's aren't born in August but for the sake of fanfiction shhhh let's pretend it is!] Making König 27 years old; He's very mature for his age!

𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 ‣. König suffered from anxiety/social anxiety since he was 17 and still suffers till this day just not as much. He's able to turn it off in the field but once he's on leave and is around other civilians it comes crawling back. It has stopped him from making friends, hanging out with his fellow soldiers and even dating. He's still a virgin because of this (and because of work and him finding the right person but that's a later issue). However once you get past that shy exterior he's pretty cocky. He's proud of the fact that he is a colonel and he enjoys secretly flexing on his s/o. "Ja, I took down a group of terrorists and saved all the hostages by myself. No big deal (👀)." He's one of those quiet people who talks alot of shit in their head and sends side eyes instead of starting shit.

‣. König is relatively good at hiding his anger, especially since he wears that mask 24/7. He'll quietly brood in the corner--arms crossed giving off an aura that spooks the new recruits. He's very quiet not speaking unless spoken too or if he needs something. König is so sarcastic! He'll roll his eyes (secretly) or mumble smart comments under his breath––mocking whatever superior that pissed him off. If you're close to you him you'll notice when he's happy. He has a slight bounce in step and he walks with his chest puffed up proudly. It's a real cute sight honestly.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. König's favorite colors are earthy tones. He likes dark woodsy green, russet and navy blue. I imagine he loves the ocean and water. Especially creeks! Winter may not be his favorite season but he loves hiking through the snow in his hometown's nature trails. He enjoys hearing the sound of the snow and dead leaves crunch under his footsteps. Speaking of hometown his favorite dishes are things like beef stew or anything meaty and hearty. He really likes homemade jams and jellys. He prefers going to the farmers market and picking up his fruits and vegetables fresh.

‣.This man's house is HUGE. It would look maybe something like this. It's super spacious with a few spare rooms for guests. König showers more than he bathes. He's legs are too long to fit which makes him have to awkwardly scrunch himself up. He isn't around much because of his work so he never took to the time to properly decorate. If you're his s/o he gives you permission to decorate. Make it look really pretty for him please. He lives somewhere a little distant from the city; closer to the country but not too far. He still wants to be close to local shopping markets.

‣.I think König would prefer a fat/chubby partner over a thinner partner. He enjoys grabbing onto their body, holding them closely feeling the warmth radiate from their body. I see him liking a partner who is quiet. Not as quiet as him because he likes when your chatter fills the silence. But someone who's able to relax and enjoy the ambience of their surroundings. Someone who is able to point out the little details in things. He wouldn't mind an outgoing s/o, someone who speaks for him when he doesn't feel verbal that day.

König was once stationed by an ocean for half a year and it was the best moments of his life. It was so calming for him. Every night he could hear the waves gently crashing against each other it always soothed him. It was favorite lullaby (after the one his mom sings).

König always has his hands held behind his back or he holds them in the front. He enjoys grabbing parts of himself it helps keep him stable and grounded. He also fiddles alot. Like he constantly stretches and wiggles his fingers. Or he lightly traces his thighs up and down with his fingers.

One of his favorite genres of music is Electro Swing. His favorite band is Caravan Palace. He loves all their albums.

100% picks people up. If you're his s/o and you're in his way he's grabbing you by the waist and gently moving you over. If you're on the battlefield god knows he's treating you like a football; bro is slugging you over his shoulder if you get injured or he's tackling you down to protect you from grenades.

If he's stutters too much in a sentence he gets really mad. He doesn't find it funny when people mock his accent. Also!! There are certain English words that König just doesn't know. He's fluent in English and can write well but there are times he gets stuck on words he doesn't recognize.

Has a thing for chubby cheeks. Also really likes chubby fingers. If you have fat fingers please give him a massage, he would love it so much. It's such a nice contrast too; his rough calloused hands compared to your soft round ones.

Looves chocolate. Especially dark chocolate, he really enjoys candy bars with nuts and toffee in them. He adores American super-sized candy bars. He also really likes twizzlers and licorice.

He doesn't outwardly smoke but if you offer he won't refuse. He's makes sure not to make it a habit (his grandmother was very upset when she caught him smoking once), he'd rather die by a bullet than slowly kill himself.

I know I said he's 27 but I imagine him to be 35 in canon.

NATURE LOVER! Bro is enamored by the beauty of his home country. He loves observing the wildlife on walks. He has a journal where he keeps different leaves from different places he was stationed at.

Good friends with Horangi. Not like BFFS (they are) but they're drinking buddies. Horangi helps König with his social anxiety and König helps Horangi not fall back into gambling.

König's favorite meat ever is lamb. He fucking loves a tender lamb roast. Gets annoyed as hell when the meat get stuck between his gums but he thinks it's worth it for the delicious food.

Pretty particular about his beers, he doesn't drink anything he's a man of class! He'll go on this super long lecture about how German brewing is so much better than other countries and that non-German beer/alcohol can't compete. Him and Soap got into an argument about this.

He keeps his area as tidy as possible. He isn't a slob but isn't a complete neat freak. If he has a bunch of random items out he'll try and keep them in a organized pile.

Sometimes he leaves his guns out around his house.

Lowkey likes being needed. There are times when his fellow soldiers ask him for help carrying extra stuff or when children or the elderly ask him to reach stuff off the top shelves. Especially likes when his s/o ask him to carry them. He'll start to puff his chest out and walk around with a dumb grin under his mask.

Type of guy to see people down an asle and wait for them to move instead of saying excuse me. [Projecting fr fr]

A real crafty individual, his hood is just a tee-shirt with holes in it. His helmet is literally a bicycle helmet he modded with military gear. König knows how to sew and he can tailor a little. He prefers taking his clothes to a seamstress or tailor because his hands are very big and sewing can a take a long time and he doesn't have that much patience for it.

He LOVED arts and crafts as a child. He would make so much shit to bring him to his mom and grandma. His grandmother still has his things till this day.

His favorite English speaking bands would be The Smiths, Boâ and The Cranberries. He likes to quietly sing to himself it makes him happy. He also enjoys 70-80s music. I also think he likes the sound of nu metal/rock instrumentals.

If he had an s/o he would love to dance with them. He would/could never dance in public but behind closed doors god knows this man would shimmy with his partner. He doesn't care if you can dance well because he can't dance well, he just wants to let loose and have fun with you.

Broke a guy's ribcage once. It was during sparring and König was pretty pissed with the man because he did something cocky and stupid that caused them the life of another soldier. He didn't receive proper punishment because they successfully completed the mission but König decided he should deal his own form of justice. By putting so much pressure on his chest until he heard a satisfying crack sound.

I think he likes apple cider.

He was raised by his mother and grandmother so he has a softer spot towards woman. He enjoys being in their company.

Smells like one of those fireplace candles or something with sandlewood and cinnamon. On the battlefield thought he reeks of blood, sweat and gunpowder.

Absolutely hates when there is dirt under his nails (or anyone else's). He thinks it looks so gross it makes him wanna vomit.

His favorite animal is probably either a bear or fox. He also likes pigs, he thinks the little piglets are so cute.

König is texter not a caller. He'll send his s/o paragraphs of texts instead of small individual ones because he thinks the notifications would be annoying and the last thing he wants to be is annoying (please convince him he's not).

He always plans out conversations in his head. Before going to check-out he's going through a mental rundown of what the total is gonna be, how he's gonna pay and what the cashier is going to say. Being in the military lowkey made this worse. He's always over analyzing conversations because he's afraid of messing up and embarrassing himself.

He likes drama movies and psychological horror. Midsommar is one of his favorite horror movies.

König has stretch marks on his thighs and legs and a little on his stomach. His growth spurt was crazy as a child.

Requests: OPEN

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

[nixie-writes]

Being Adam's Daughter - Adam In Hell

Your wish is my command

-two years had passed since the fateful day your father, Adam, was killed. You were a sensitive soul but you felt vengeance in your heart. You wanted to know who killed him and you wanted them dead.

-Lute spent the past two years comforting you over the loss of your father. She helped you through the five stages of grief. But now you were at the last stage - anger. It rose in your throat and choked you, preventing you from even speaking his name to anyone but Lute.

-at Emily's request the yearly extermination had ended, and Hell was left at its own whim. You and Lute spoke in privacy, and she agreed that you should take over Adam's role as leader of the exorcists. You would kill the disgusting sinners who wished death on your father, one way or another.

-without Sera's knowledge you gathered a few close angels who were once exterminators, and you opened a portal to Hell. With them in tow you aimed for the Hotel that Lucifer's daughter was running. You knew that a small demon by the name of Niffty had delivered the final blow. You wanted her erased.

-you took the Hotel by surprise, blowing off the door and flying in, demanding that any demon who fought Adam be killed. Lute and the other exorcists entered the Hotel and aimed their weapons at Lucifer's daughter and the Hotel's residency. What you weren't aware of, however, was that one of those demons bore an angelic weapon, and you weren't aware they could harm you.

-you pin pointed at Lucifer's daughter, Charlie, and used your spear in an attempt to take her life. You only managed to slash across her chest instead of her throat however, because an ex exterminator, who you now recognized as Vaggie, flew between you two. With her spear she dug it deep into your stomach, ripping it out and spewing your glowing gold blood all over the floor.

-you dropped to your knees in shock. You didn't even feel the pain, all you felt was anger. You knew you were dying, and no amount of Holy power could save you from this. You pulled a pocket knife from your gown and stabbed Charlie in the Achilles' heel and she collapsed to the floor, Vaggie immediately by her side.

-Lute screamed your name, rushing to your side. "[Y/N]! No, you're not dying like he did!" She cried, tears welling in her eyes. You coughed up a considerable amount of blood, your head lolling back, your eyes pointed at the ceiling of the Hotel. Lute's one remaining arm was wrapped around your shoulder, shaking you violently. All you wanted to do was sleep. You could feel the cold embrace of death creeping up your spine. You truly were your father's daughter.

-the last thing you heard before the light left your eyes was Vaggie telling Lute to take the exorcists and leave, refusing to let her take you with her. You couldn't make out Lute's response but she retreated, calling the exorcists with her. As your last breath escaped you your vision filled with red and you were gone.

-the Hotel guests watched as your body seized. You twitched once, then again, a bright red light engulfing your body, blocking their view of you. You felt Heaven's warm caress leave your body, it was painful and tormenting. You had broken God's love for you, and you were damned to Hell to pay for it. A heavy price for vengeance that wasn't yours to take.

-in your new demon form you found yourself looking around at the guests of the Hotel, who were staring at you like you had a second head. You stumbled to your feet, looking at your hands. They were black, all the way up to your elbow. You felt for your halo on your head and instead found horns protruding from your forehead. They were long and sharp. It came to you as a shock - you were a demon now, the very thing you despised most.

-not taking a second glance at Charlie you raced out of the Hotel, puffing for breath. The air in Hell was acrid and ashy, you felt like you were breathing cigarette smoke. You ran away from the Hotel, finding yourself deep in the Pride ring.

-you eventually found yourself walking past a tea salon when an all too familiar voice reached your ears. "...Yeah, and that's when that short stack bitch stabbed me in the back - literally! And now I'm in this shit hole with no way back up there! Can you believe that shit?" Was that... Adam?

-taking a risk you entered the tea salon, your eyes widened as they laid upon a man dressed in a tattered gown, sharp teeth and red horns, but unmistakably Adam.

-you found yourself walking up to him, gently touching him on the shoulder. He turned, his eyes full of fury and curiosity at who dared interrupt his conversation. "Who the fuck are you, some cheap whore who wants this dick? Ya can't have it!" He yelled and turned away. You winced. Of course he wouldn't recognize you in this form.

-you touched his shoulder again and he turned around. Before he could tell you to fuck off you stuttered, "dad! It-it's me, [Y/N]. I'm... Sorry. I'm only here because I tried to avenge your death, and I was punished for it. Please forgive me."

-Adam stared at you suspiciously, as if he didn't believe you. You still had your pocket knife on you, a gift from him for your protection. You pulled it from your pocket and placed it in his hands. "Remember giving this to me?" You inquired, cocking a half smile hopefully.

-Adam stared at the pocket knife, then back at you, It finally settled in his mind that he was staring at his daughter, new to Hell and desperately needing a hand for protection and guidance. He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.

-"I thought I'd never see you again... Please tell me you haven't signed your soul away," he whispered. You shook your head; you were a little naive but you weren't a child anymore. "No dad, of course not." You replied. patting his back.

-Adam pulled a chair out next to him and slapped a 20 on the table. "Get my daughter here a shot of whiskey," he demanded, and the salon employee nodded, pulling a fancy shot glass from under the counter and grabbing a bottle of expensive looking alcohol and pouring you a drink. With Adam's permission you swallowed it down hard, choking on the harshness of the liquor. He patted your back as you coughed.

-"well, since you're here... Tell me, what have you been up to in my absence?"

[lieslab]

Behind the light

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Genre: Comfort & a little angst occasionally

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: This was a request where SKZ finds your self-harm scars. Major trigger warning for that. If there are very specific trigger warnings, they'll be listed before the drabbles. To whoever requested this, it's your lucky day because this was written so quickly and some of these are a bit more light-hearted. Enjoy <3

_ _ _

Chan:

TW: Mentions of knife and implied depression.

The dribbling sound of a basketball filled the air once again. Sweat poured down both of your faces. Your heavy breaths filled the air. Chan’s eyes met yours and, by the glint in them, you knew he was going to pull something. 

He started one way and then shifted towards the other. You stepped out to block him and he dribbled the other way. When he went back the opposite way, you slipped and stumbled over your feet. He laughed and circled around you with the ball. 

The ball shot out of his hands, hit the backboard, and soared through the net. You groaned and wiped the back of your hand across your sweaty forehead. With that final basket, Chan beat you in your one-to-one match. 

He came back to you and reached out a hand. You grabbed it and let him haul you to your feet. Both of you were panting and struggling to catch your breaths. “Are you okay?”  He asked. 

You inhaled a mouthful of the outdoor oxygen and nodded. The two of you had been going at it for over forty-five minutes. He smiled and patted your shoulder. “That was a really close game.” 

“If you wouldn’t have made me fall, I would have beat you.” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” Chan playfully rolled his eyes and a grin appeared on his face. His dimples poked out and he let out another squeaky laugh. “You have to admit, you looked a little silly looking dazed on the ground.” 

“It’s not funny!”  You huffed. Your lips puffed out in a pout and your arms crossed. Your body language was humorous to Chan. “What if I broke a bone or something?” 

“Well, I’m sure you would have had a much different reaction. Besides, you barely hit the ground that hard. You were already low to block me anyway. Want a rematch?” 

“How about you let me catch my breath first? It’s hot as balls out here.” You fanned your face with your hand. 

“I can go get some water for us real quick.” 

Chan started to leave and you weren’t even thinking about it. You lifted up the bottom of your cotton shirt and used it to mop up the sweat on your face. You sucked in another deep breath and dropped the shirt. 

When you looked back up, Chan was staring at you in shock. His playful banner was gone. He stood with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. You stared at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“I-I um…”  His voice trailed off. “What’s on your stomach?” 

“My what? Oh.” The sudden realization caused your heart to drop. You swallowed and tried to figure out how to explain what he had seen. 

The jagged lines across your stomach had been there for a few years now. You often refused to show your stomach to anyone. In a self destructive mode when you were younger, you slashed a knife across your stomach multiple times. You hadn’t wanted your family members to see them. 

You often wore tank tops and shorts. Your stomach seemed like the perfect place at the time. You were afraid they’d say something if you started wearing pants and long sleeve shirts in the middle of summer. Without second thought, you let the knife rip your soft skin open. 

As you grew up, you regretted it, but there was nothing you could do. What happened had happened. It was done and over with and you were left with scars. 

“Please, don’t worry,�� you finally got out. “They’re from a few years ago when I was struggling.” 

“So you’re not still actively…”  

He was cut off with you shaking your head. Relief flooded through him and he nodded his head. “Promise you’ll let me know if you’re struggling?” 

“I promise. Now go get those waters, so we can have a rematch.” A grin lit up your face. “I’m going to beat your ass this time and make you weep.” 

_ _ _

Minho:

TW: Knife and dark humor to cope.

“What the fuck is this?” Lee Know asked. He scooped up a handful of the green pepper you were cutting. The jagged edges and uneven pieces stared back at you. 

“What do they look like? Those are my green pepper pieces. It’s not my fault you gave me a dull knife.” 

“I just sharpened that knife. I have a feeling the knife isn’t the problem and your cutting skills are.” 

You scoffed, “my cutting skills? My cutting skills are perfectly fine. It’s the knife.” 

“This has nothing to do with the knife and everything to do with your knife cutting skills. Have you even cut a vegetable before? Do you have any idea what you’re really doing?” 

“It’s not much different than cutting skin. The only difference is that the green pepper is thicker than skin,” you grumbled. 

Lee Know blinked a few times wondering if he heard you correctly. The words echoed in your head and your eyes widened realizing what you just said. Your teeth clamped down on the inside of your cheek hoping he would ignore your comment. 

“So are you going to explain the elephant in the room or…?” 

You sighed, “it was a bad joke.” 

“Your expression says otherwise.” 

“It’s really nothing. Forget I said anything about it. It was just a bad joke,” you insisted. You went back to trying to chop the remaining pepper properly. 

Lee Know called your name which caused you to glance over. You held your breath as he spoke. “Is there something I don’t know about you yet?” 

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth debating on if you should tell him or not. He observed your nervous reaction and gave you a small smile. “I’m not going to judge you, you know.” 

It took you a few seconds to gather the courage. “Okay, so I might have self-harmed a while ago.” 

“How long ago?” 

“A few months.” 

“Oh?” 

“But it’s really not that serious. I was going through a lot, but I’m okay now. I haven’t done it since then. I was really struggling and I needed some relief.” 

“That’s why I‘ve never seen you in shorts, have I?” 

“Yeah, basically.” 

“You’re sure you’re alright?” 

You nodded your head. Lee Know went silent and watched you cut the remaining green pepper. Nerves began to fill you because he was so quiet. You were starting to think he was judging you until he spoke again. 

“Well, at least, I know you’re not a murderer now.” 

“Minho!” 

“What? I’m just being honest!”

_ _ _

Changbin:

TW: Accidental injury, cigarettes, and cigarette burns.

“Why are you pretending like you’re stronger than me?” Changbin asked with a tease. “You see these muscles every day. There’s no way you’re going to beat me.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”  

The two of you had been spending the day in an arcade. All day, you had been meandering through streams of people going from game to game. Some you were better at and some Changbin was better at. One game, both of you sucked at it, neither one of you won. 

When Changbin saw a kid throw a punch at a small punching bag and neon numbers shot up, he tugged you towards the game. You had always joked that his muscles weren’t for strength and that they were just so he could look good. 

He figured that if he beat you, you’d finally have to give up your silly little joke. He’d prove that he was strong fair and square. You’d be forced to accept the truth. 

After the kid left, Changbin started the game and took his place. “Make your guess. How high do you think I’ll make the number go?” He rubbed his hands together and prepared to hit the target. 

“A measly five-hundred.” 

“What? Five-hundred?” His voice raised in disbelief. “Yah! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” 

You laughed and shook your head. He grumbled something and took a step back. He wound up his fist and swung. Right as he swung, a group of people passed you. One of them brushed against your back. You thought it was fine until someone’s elbow struck the middle of your back. 

You flew forward unable to catch yourself. Instead of hitting the target, Changbin’s fist hit the side of your jaw. You hit the ground hard and squeezed your eyes shut as white filled your vision. Changbin cursed and bent down. 

Pain radiated through the side of your jaw. The ache shot up the curve and dulled near your ear. He scooped you up and quickly rushed you outside and away from people, so you weren’t overwhelmed. 

In the parking lot, he opened your car door and sat you sideways in your passenger seat. His eyes were filled with concern while he stared at you. “Are you okay?” 

You gently rubbed the side of your jaw and nodded. 

“Can you speak?” 

“I think so,” you mumbled. 

“I need to take you to the doctors to make sure you’re alright. You could have a concussion or a broken jaw or something. What happened?” 

“Someone accidentally shoved me from behind.” 

“Bastards,” Changbin mumbled. He let out a sigh knowing that you seemed to be okay for the most part. You were dazed, but, at least, you were conscious. His eyes went up to check on you again. 

The left sleeve of your shirt was slid up. He reached a hand up to pull it back down when he spotted your scars. Each one was in a perfect circle. The skin was discolored in each one. A bronzy pink in some spots and a bit darkened with purple in others. 

“What are these?”  He gestured to the side of your shoulder. 

You glanced over and cursed beneath your breath. “Please don’t be mad at me.” 

“Why would I be mad?” 

“I used to smoke.” 

“So?” 

“And I used to put them out there.” 

“You…what? Why?” He frowned and his hand went to your knee. He was kneeling on the ground in front of you. 

“Because I felt worthless and miserable. It was a form of self-harm that I could hide. It’s been a while ago and that’s why they’re so faded.” 

“And you’re not still struggling?” 

You weakly shook your head. “Can we just go to the hospital? I feel like I might throw up. This is a conversation we can talk about later when I feel like I’m not dying.” 

“You’re right. Just know that you can come to me whenever, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He helped you shift, so you were in the car. He leaned over you and buckled the seatbelt for you. He wasted no time climbing into the driver’s seat and backing the car up.” 

“I take it back,” you mumbled, letting your head fall against the car window. 

“Take what back?” 

“You’re really strong and your muscles aren’t just for looks.” 

“I can’t believe it took me accidentally punching you for you to admit it, but thank you.” A smug look appeared across his face. He kept glancing over at you while he drove. 

“I think this might be karma.” You let your eyes shut. Your jaw continued to ache. You gently rubbed it trying to alleviate the pain.

“Karma! Bom, digi, digi, bom, bom, bom, bom!” Changbin’s fingers tapped along the steering wheel to the beat of Topline. 

All you could do was laugh. 

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

TW: Suicide and depression.

“And then Juliet leaned out her tower.” Hyunjin shifted and hung himself off the back of the couch. “Oh, Romeo, Romeo!” He let his hand fall to his forehead. “Wherefore art thou Romeo?”  He cried out and lifted a hand to the empty air. 

You watched amused from your spot on the opposite end of the couch. Hyunjin had just recently finished reading Romeo and Juliet. You had never bothered because you thought the whole concept was dumb, but Hyunjin had proceeded to start dramatically acting the whole thing out. 

“And then they run away together and die,” you finished.

“There is so much more that happens before that!” 

“I think they were both really stupid. Why would you die for love? They could have just said screw it to both of their parents and left.” 

“Okay, but take a moment to consider that they were both teenagers.” 

“And that makes it so much worse,” you insisted. “Why did the parents have such a feud to begin with?” 

“They were mortal enemies!” 

You rolled your eyes unamused with his response. 

“Read the book!” 

“I’d rather not.” 

“Did you know this still happens?” 

“What?” 

Hyunjin sat up and looked at you. “In some countries, sometimes couples fall in love. Women can only get married if their fathers approve, it’s the law.” 

“That’s such bullshit!” 

“Don’t believe me? Look it up. There’s some couples that fall in love and women’s fathers don’t approve. They can’t get married to who they really love. Sometimes the fathers pre-arrange the marriage based on societal standings, wealth, etc.” 

“So they kill themselves because of that?” 

He nodded.

“That’s so…” You frowned. “That’s dark and awful.” 

“A lot of them can’t stand the thought of not being able to exist with their lover, so they kill themselves together and have faith in the afterlife. Romeo and Juliet makes perfect sense when you look at it from that perspective. People are desperate and in love. Without their lovers, living seems intangible and unimaginable. Loving someone openly is a privilege that not everyone has.”

You shifted and leaned over to put your head on his lap. Getting comfortable, he began to run his fingers through your hair. The two of you sat together in silence taking in the previous conversation. 

“Have you ever been so low in your life that you wanted to kill yourself?” 

“I’ve had times when I’ve been depressed, but I can’t imagine not living. I don’t want to leave everyone I love behind. I can’t imagine not being here for my family and friends. Have you?” 

“Unfortunately, yeah.” 

“I’m sorry you went through that.” 

“Can I show you something that I haven’t shown anyone before?” 

He nodded and you held your breath. Your fingers went down to your shorts and you tugged up a side of them to reveal the scars lining your thigh. His eyes widened a little and he reached out. With a gentle swipe of his finger, his thumb smoothed across them. 

“Do they hurt?” He whispered. 

“Not anymore. It’s been a long time, so that’s why they’re so faint. The idea of killing myself was terrifying, but self-harming provided a lot of relief. It’s weird to say now, but it made me feel good. I was in such an awful head-space that I felt like I deserved the pain.” 

“Do you still feel this way?” 

You shook your head. Hyunjin shifted his hand and placed it on your cheek. Your eyes went up to his. He stroked the side of your cheek with his thumb. “I’m really happy you’re still here and not doing this anymore.” 

The start of a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. “I’m really happy I am too.” 

He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to the side of the temple. Popping back up, he let out a soft sigh and pressed his lips together. You pulled the side of your shorts back down. Hyunjin glanced around the room before he started up again. 

“Now where was I?” He leaned his head back. “Oh, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

He couldn’t take anything too seriously. 

_ _ _

Han:

TW: Blood and recent self-harm cuts.

I can’t wear this!”  You called out from behind the curtain. 

“Oh, come on! That color matches your eyes perfectly. What’s the big deal?” Han responded. 

“It’s a short sleeved t-shirt and you know how uncomfortable I am wearing them.” 

“Please,” Han pleaded, “pretty please!” 

“Absolutely not!” Behind the curtain, you shook your head and placed the hanger that the t-shirt was on back on the rack. 

Han huffed and grumbled beneath his breath. He jerked the curtain open and stepped inside with you. You took a few steps back and lowered your voice. “Han, what are you doing here?” 

His arms crossed over his chest. “I wanna know why. I think you’re stunning and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Why won’t you wear the t-shirt? Are you insecure about your arms? I promise you that there’s nothing wrong with them.”  

“Han, please I-” 

“Nuh-uh. I’m not leaving until you tell me what the issue is.” He took a step forward and planted himself in the middle of the tile. “What is it? Do you have secret superpowers or something? Are you hiding an inappropriate tattoo?” He gasped with wide eyes. “I bet that’s what it is!” 

“What?” Your eyebrows pinched together. You shook your head. “That’s not it. That’s not it at all. I just…can we just go? We can go to another store or something.” You tried to walk around him, but he put up his arm to block you. 

Annoyance flowed through you. You tried to duck below his arm, but before you could, he gripped your arm tightly. You yelped like a wounded dog and jerked back away from him. 

“Holy shit, you’re bleeding!” 

Before you could stop him, Han grabbed your hand and jerked up the sleeve of your white long sleeve shirt. In the bright fluorescent light above, the old and new self-harm scars were revealed. You stared at Han like a deer trapped in headlights. 

“Y-You…no…what? You’re…” 

“It’s not a big deal,” you mumbled trying to pull away and yank your sleeve down. Han shoved a hand over yours to stop you. Tears filled your eyes. Humiliation was beginning to creep up. 

You sniffled and looked down at the floor. Han reached forward and gently grabbed your chin, so you were forced to look at him. You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked away your tears. He sounded like he was ready to cry himself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling? I would have talked to you and helped you with whatever it is. I’ll always be there for you.” 

You shrugged because you didn’t want to admit the truth. You didn’t want to admit that you were ashamed to ask for help. You didn’t want to be a burden to other people. You didn’t want to taint his life with your problems. 

They were your problems for a reason and you were sure that unloading your problems onto him would make him miserable. The last thing you wanted to do was add stress to everything he went through. 

He leaned forward and gently tugged your sleeve down to cover the fresh wound. The scab cracked open and your bright red blood oozed out. He grabbed your hand and began to tug you from the dressing room. 

Everything clicked in his head now. He realized why you had been wearing long sleeves. It wasn’t just because it was winter and it was cold in the winter. You had been hiding your hurt beneath those sleeves. 

“Where are we going?” You asked as he pulled you outside the store and back into the main section of the mall. 

“First, we’re going to Auntie Anne’s to get a snack and then we’re going home. I’m going to properly disinfect and rebandage your arm and then we’re going to sit down and have a conversation.” He gently squeezed your hand reassuringly. 

“So you’re not mad?” 

“Mad?” He turned to face you with wide eyes. “Why would I be mad? You’re struggling and that’s not something to be mad about. I’m not mad at you, I’m worried. Whatever you’re going through, you’re doing it all by yourself. Nobody deserves to suffer alone.” 

Relief filled you and you let out a soft sigh. Han turned around and began tugging you towards the pretzel place again quicker this time. “So what will it be? Do you want pretzel bites or do you want one of their big pretzels? Come on, I’m starving.” 

You couldn’t help, but laugh as his stomach growled immediately after he spoke. 

_ _ _

Felix:

TW: Suicide and blood.

You didn’t mind when Felix played with the bracelets stacked on your left wrist. He didn’t ask why there was a variety of dark colored bracelets. All he knew was that they were great for fidgeting with. Some were cloth, some were rubber, and some were beads. 

While watching TV, he grabbed your hand and set it on his thigh. You didn’t mind as he mindlessly turned the bracelets around and fiddled with them. His fingers slipped beneath one at a time and he spun them around. At least, he did until a commercial break hit. 

You pulled your eyes from the screen and shook your head. “That was so much that happened. I can’t believe it ended right there. I wanna know what happened and I hate commercials.” 

Felix chuckled, “I hate them too.” 

“Maybe I should ditch cable and pay extra for no ads on a streaming service. I’m tired of being shown advertisements for things that don’t pertain to me. They’re annoying.” 

Felix nodded his head in agreement and bent down to look at the bands on your arm. Recently, you had added another one and he took notice of it. You bought on an impulse and didn’t think much of it until now. 

Felix pulled the bracelet towards himself. The thin black rope had a small silver tag on it with a semicolon. He shifted your arm to look at it better. Your eyes were glued to the TV not paying much attention thinking about a task you had to do later. 

“Hey, isn’t this from that semicolon project?” He asked. 

You jerked your head towards him. “Hmm?” 

“The semicolon project, you know. The one where people make the semicolon visible and it represents people that have overcome a struggle.” His eyes met yours. They were full of warmth and curiosity instead of judgment. 

You slowly nodded your head. 

“Can I ask which one you’ve struggled with?” 

You stared at him for a moment hesitating. He continued staring back at you patiently. You glanced back at the TV to see if the show was back on, but it wasn’t. You hesitated once more before you finally nod. 

You reached down and began to pull off the bracelets on your wrist. Once they were fully off, you held out your wrist to him. There was a deep scar that started at the bottom of your wrist and ran down your arm a few inches. Felix was shocked that he hadn’t realized it before. He grabbed your arm, so he could study it. 

“There was a time a few years ago when I got to a really dark place mentally. I wanted everything to end, so I tried to kill myself by cutting open my wrist. I never got a chance to do the other one. The pain was unbearable and I passed out from the shock of seeing so much blood.” 

Felix frowned. 

“It’s not the only scar I have from that time period. I have others in places where people can’t see them. It was a rough time period.” 

“Are you okay now?” His worried eyes met yours. You returned his look with a smile and nod. He stared at you like he didn’t believe you. “Are you sure?” 

“That’s why I have the semicolon bracelet.” 

“Oh, right.” He grabbed it off the side of the couch and gently pushed it over your wrist. “You don’t have to hide this if you don’t want to. I’m not going to judge you, you know.” 

You nodded, “I know. However, I feel more comfortable with it covered up. It raises a lot of eyebrows when people see it. I don’t want all that attention on me when I go out in public.” 

“I understand. Just know that you can come to me if you’re struggling, okay? You’re not the only one who has struggled with dark thoughts.” 

You nodded and replaced the rest of your bracelets back on your wrist. Felix tugged you over into his lap. You got comfortable and the show finally came back on. 

_ _ _

Seungmin:

TW: Roller coasters.

“This was the worst idea you’ve had yet.” You squeezed your eyes shut and clutched onto the bar in front of you. Your heart was in your stomach. 

Beside you, Seungmin laughed. “Why are you so scared? It’s just a little roller coaster. Afraid you’ll throw up?” 

“Shut up! It’s not just  a little roller coaster! It goes really fast and does three loops. This is my worst nightmare!” 

“Then why’d you agree to go on it with me?” 

“I’m not a coward!” You cried out and squeezed your eyes tighter as the ride operator began counting down for take off. Around you, people chirped and giggled with excitement. A nervous fluttering was in the air. Behind you, two guys whooped and hollered ready to go. 

With zero mercy, the ride shot forward. You screamed while being launched to what you were sure was your curtain death. Your fingers went pale around the safety bar. Your hair jerked back behind your head. You flew through the wind. 

Beside you, Seungmin’s laughter filled your ears. His teeth sparkled as he grinned. Right when you opened your eyes, the ride twisted. You screamed again and squeezed your eyes shut. Seungmin glanced over giggling. 

“Just open your eyes!” 

“I don’t want to fall out! If I fall, I don’t want to see it on the way down! Let me ride in peace!” 

“Scaredy-cat!” He taunted. 

“Fuck you!” 

He opened his mouth to respond when he began to cough. Worried, you reopened your eyes and glanced over at him. He coughed a few times and swallowed with a groan. 

“Are you okay?” You called out over the rush of air that made it hard to hear each other. 

“I swallowed a bug.” 

It was your turn to laugh this time, but you made sure not to open your mouth wide, so the same didn’t happen to you. “It’s not funny!” He cried out which caused you to laugh harder. 

You felt weightless through the next few loops. The laughter had caused you to relax a little. You kept gripping the bar, but you finally looked around at everything. The two of you were high above the amusement park. 

“Oh, here we go.” 

You glanced ahead with wide eyes. The two of you were slowly inching towards an incline. You didn’t ask, you just acted. Your hand reached out and grabbed Seungmin’s tightly. He squeezed your hand back and you continued your steady uphill climb. 

When you got to the top, you began to slide down. You held your breath and then you dropped. Your body was shoved back due to g-force. A high pitched scream left your mouth. 

By the time you got down and back to the beginning of the ride to get off, you were dazed. The baggy shorts you had were pushed up higher. Quite a bit of your thigh was exposed along with old self-harm scars. Seungmin cleared his throat and nodded down to your thigh. 

Red filled your cheeks and you mumbled an apology and tugged the shorts down. Your eyes met his worried that he’d say something about it, but he remained silent until he changed the topic. “So what do you want to do next?” 

The safety bar lifted up and the two of you left the roller coaster cart. Safely back on the ground and away from people, you turned to face Seungmin. “I can explain that, it was just fr-” 

“I don’t need an explanation. You don’t have to explain anything. Some people struggle sometimes and you don’t owe me an explanation.” 

You blinked in shock, “but don’t you want to know what happened?” 

“Of course, I want to know, but that’s not up to me. That’s up to you and it’s not right for me to stick my nose into your business and pry it out of you. I trust that you’ll come to me when you’re struggling. Clearly, whatever happened is from a while ago, so I’m not worried. Now if they were new, that’s a whole other story.” 

“It’s been quite a bit since I’ve self-harmed,” you admitted. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing better and I hope whatever the cause of it has been resolved.” 

You nodded your head. 

“So should we go on another roller coaster or the drop tower?” He grinned. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” 

“I’m trying to have fun here!” 

“You deserved to choke on that bug.” 

“Well, fuck you too then.”

_ _ _

Jeongin:

TW: Nudity and mentions of assault.

You grew so used to the scars on your forearms that they didn’t bother you when you were alone. You walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your body. In your room, Jeongin sat playing his Nintendo Switch. He had been waiting for you to finish. 

He lazily glanced up and quickly shoved a hand over his eyes. “Jesus christ, what happened to a hello? What happened to warning me that you’re naked?” 

“I’m not naked, I have a towel on.” 

“Which means you’re practically naked!” He cried out. 

“You are such a big baby.” 

“For your birthday, I’m sending you to a nudist colony since you want to put yourself on display.” 

“Shut up! I just forgot to get clothes, so I’m getting them now. Don’t get your dick in a twist about it, geez. I’m going, I’m going.” You grabbed a stack of clothes and disappeared back into the bathroom. 

When the door shut, he finally pulled his hand off his face and let out a sigh of relief. He picked up his Nintendo and went back to playing. When you came back out of the bathroom, he didn’t take his eyes off his game. “Are you naked again?” 

“I have clothes on, thank you very much.” 

He chuckled and glanced up. The playfulness vanished from his voice and his face fell when he caught a glimpse of your forearm. You were reaching out to grab your phone when the scars were flashed his way. 

He dropped his device, sat up, and pushed himself towards you. “What are those?” He leaned up more to try to figure out what exactly they were. They were faint in the darkened room from where he had been sitting. 

“What are what?” You unlocked your phone to respond to a text message. You pressed on the thread and began typing. 

“The things on your arms.” 

“The things on my ar-” You glanced down and went silent. The phone slipped out of your hands. You had forgotten about the scars on your forearms. “Well, um…they’re definitely there.” 

“Are those self-harm scars?” 

“I wasn’t really thinking about it, honestly. I’ve been so used to being alone, so I’m sorry.” You bent down, picked up your phone, and placed it on the dresser. “Don’t worry, I’ll change back into a long sleeve shirt.” You headed over to your dresser. 

“Woah, wait a minute, why?” 

“You’re clearly uncomfortable.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable, I’m just shocked. I never knew you had them. I didn’t know you struggled with anything like that. You don’t have to cover them up.” 

You considered his words and turned around to face him. “Are you sure? I can cover them up like I normally do. I just wasn’t thinking and I-” 

“Hey, it’s okay, really. You shouldn’t have felt like you had to hide them to begin with. Grab your Nintendo Switch and let’s battle.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“If you’re going to cover anything up, you can start by covering up your nudity when I’m over here. I don’t care if you shower, but I don’t want to see all that.” 

“I wasn’t naked! You’ve seen worse anyway! Worry about Chan and his shirtless habits. Hyunjin said it himself that Chan walks around practically naked.” 

“I don’t have to experience that in my dorm because I don’t live in theirs. Good try, but you’re wrong. You should be fined with indecent exposure. I’m practically a child and you’re showing me your goods.” 

“I’m going to show you my fist in a minute, you idiot.” 

“Oh, assault and indecent exposure. That’ll get you fined and tossed into jail. I’m not bailing you out and neither are my band members. Maybe you should have just gone to the nudist colony instead.” 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your Nintendo Switch. “Scoot over, I’m going to kick your ass in Mario Kart.” 

“Pft, we’ll see about that.”

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