#drabble template yet a fuck

[spaceycat]

ɴᴏᴡ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢ ... 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚎 ★彡

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: touch it by ariana grande (4:20) //✮⋆ ˚.ᐟ " cause every time i'm with you. i go into a zone, and i remember other places you wanna go. " 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

✰ pairing: sub!bob reynolds x fem!reader

bob is constantly touching you, like if he wasn't you'd simply disappear from reality. especially after you went on missions, since he isn't aloud on any - and he gets so pent up when you're gone.

when you come home, he's on you in an instant - pulling you away from the rest of the team with a gentle hand gripping onto yours. he just mainly wants to be used, by you. majority of the time, you agree. but right now?

you wanted him to see just how special he was.

you were laying down on your bed beside bob after you had your shower. running your hand through his soft, brown curls - his eyes fluttered as he leaned into your touch. you looked over him, trying to commit all of him to your memory, the small golden spark in his eyes that you could see if you looked close enough, the slope of his nose, the way his adam's apple bobs as he looks at you.

the atmosphere was soft, comforting in the late of night. something you desperately needed after the entire teams bickering about what went wrong on the mission. bob offered you that, even if the both were far from softness - his hands rough and calloused as he places a hand to your waist.

he muttered something under his breath saying that he missed you, missed your presence in the large tower - the shadows confronting, of what lies beneath the surface of your boyfriend's thoughts.

you wanted to divert those thoughts, show that he was capable of good and pleasure, the same pleasure he gave you. you moved to rest on your elbow, pushing bob onto his back - a gasp leaving his lips. "what are you-- what are you doing?" he adjusted himself in this new position, watching your hand slip under his sweatpants - wrapping around his soft cock. a whimper immediately extracting from him as his head tilted back, colliding with the soft silken pillows.

"wanna show you how much i care about you, robby." you placed a quick kiss to his jaw, "the care you deserve." you pumped his cock steadily, feeling the beads of pre-cum already leaking down from the tip as he easily hardened in your hand from your touch and from your soft words.

"you-- mph.. you don't need to do that." he couldn't help but buck into your warm hand, it was involuntary - yet contradicting to his previous words. encouraging you on more.

you peppered kisses all over his face, to the small freckles that littered his face, his jawline, the tip of his nose, finally kissing his lips - bob couldn't help but lean up into your kiss wanting more, wanting everything. you felt his tongue licking at your lips, you eagerly opened your mouth in reciprocation. the kisses were heated and open-mouthed, a bit of spit dripping out of the corner of bob's mouth as his teeth and tongue clashed against yours - your hand slipping out of his sweatpants, the loss of contact making him whimper against your lips once more.

you pulled back to catch your breath for a moment, your mind took note of how bob chased your lips, his own spit-soaked and kissed red. you didn't get a moment to catch your breath, his hand moving to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you back in without a second thought and the familiar heat returned. he let out a soft whimper, bob's other hand slipping underneath your shirt to palm at your tits, the feeling grounding in a strange way. his touch haphazard as he got lost in you, your gaze.

bob then moved to kiss at your neck, moving towards your collarbone - peppering kisses there as his eyes looked up into yours, flashing innocence and something deeper.

yearning, want, no not want. need.

"can i?.." he muttered against your collarbone, "i-i really wanna see you." you nodded, "words?' "yeah, go ahead robby." you ran your hand through his brown curls again, watching as he pulled your shirt off you - looking over you, his lips parted, breath heaving. "pretty.." he muttered, more to himself than you - hands moving over the scars that littered your body from past missions and experiments, paying attention to every one. he didn't see you as a monster, or a villain - because he understood, he's lived in the same shoes and he'll kiss every scar until you knew that you shouldn't see yourself in such a demeaning way.

he then looked up at him, this gaze experimental and mischievous - as he wrapped his lips around one of your perked nipples, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as heat enveloped it. your hand tightened in his hair, earning a soft groan from his lips - feeling the vibrations.

you then moved your hands back down to his sweats, pushing down the fabric of them and his boxers - his hard, neglected cock shining in the dim light of the moon looking sickeningly mouth-watering. you pushed up his sweater, revealing his toned abdomen which is a sight you really love to see especially with him suckling on your tits like your a goddess but also to prevent cum from spilling onto the fabric, because bob was known to cum a shit ton during sex and making messes was his forte and you weren't really in the mood for cleaning the bedsheets or yet another one of his sweaters because of one of your rendezvous.

his hips were bucking up before you even touched him, his mouth moving to your other tit - placing a hand to your waist to make you look at him again. you looked down at him, his eyes seeking praise.

"you're being so good, sweet boy." the pet name made him ever the more eager to please. you started to pump his cock slowly, taking note of how his mouth faltered - just for a moment, something flashing in his eyes.

your pace increased around his cock, focusing around the sweetly red coloured head. the feeling made bob release your nipple from his touch, head resting against your shoulder as he regained his breath - lips parted and mouth panting against your scarred skin, drool dripping out of his mouth now, collecting at his jaw.

"look, robby." you cooed, "look at how much your leaking." your words alone made him whimper loudly, he shakily turned his head around. looking at your hand wrapped around his cock, pre-cum spilling from his tip over your hand, making your hand wet and the vein on his cock glisten in. "oh, fuck-- mph, god--" whimpers practically spilled from his mouth, head falling back again.

"mm-- gonna.. baby, i'm- oh god you feel so good." he was babbling now, words coming out of his mouth before thinking - his brain not filtering or registering. his hands clawing at your shoulders, wrapping around your waist to be stabilised.

"let go, wanna make you feel good." you placed a soft kiss to his lips, his hand reaching and pulling you back in as his whimpers were muffled by your lips - he then spilt over your hand, thick hot ropes of cum making a mess of his stomach, some spilling onto the sheets. "fuck-- fuck-" he moaned out against your lips, breath panting into your open mouth. his thighs were practically shaking, hips bucking into your hand. he slowly came down from his thigh, his cock still pumping out a few spurts that landed on his inner thighs or abdomen.

"you still with me?" you noticed his fucked out expression, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. he simply nodded, no words coming out. his eyes flicking up to yours, watching as you scooped some of his cum from his thigh placing it to your lips - extracting a moan from yourself. "taste." you held your fingers up to his mouth and he eagerly brought them into his own, warm enveloping your fingers. you pulled your spit-soaked fingers from his mouth. he just stared at you, wide eyed.

"c'mere.. wanna make you cum on my tongue" bob pulled you to straddle his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs.

the next day, walker looked that at the two of you weird for the entire day because the two of you weren't exactly the quietest.

✰ a/n: uhm i guess this is kind of breaking my hiatus!! i have a couple of posts lined up, still feeling unmotivated but this came to me in a dream!!!! i <3 pathetic men..

[formulateez]

1:32am | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

genre: literal pwp, except there is minimal plot, random horny hour drabble prompt(s): "i'm going to fill you up so good and make you mine." and "someone's going to hear us!" summary: classic fwb troupe where y/n and oscar try to fit in a quickie during a sleepover with their mutual friends asleep in the rooms next door word count: ~520

requested?: no, teehee, but i got faded than a hoe a few nights ago and wrote this at like 5am and it's been sitting in my drafts for a little bit because i've been too scared to post it LMFAO there also isn't enough op81 content so i wanted to add to it :) but, please reblog and leave feedback !! (but pls be nice otherwise i will cry)

extras: banners made using template by @/cafekitsune !!

"Oh-fuck, Oscar-" You choke out, your hands running through Oscar's hair as his lips found all the spots that draw out heavenly sounds from you. “Please, Oscar, someone’s going to hear us!” You fail to sound stern as the Australian continues to ravage your neck.

“Fine with me, ‘cuz I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.” he mutters out in between each kiss that he trails down your front.

It had been a couple weeks since you and Oscar originally made a special friendship agreement. You had invited him over one night to watch a movie or two, and the night ended with his face lodged between your thighs.

Oscar’s mouth and free hand occupy themselves with your nipples, while you buck your hips up to grind against him. “Oh shit, please.” Your plead leaves your lips softly as you ache for him to give you more.

“Please what, baby? Am I making you feel good, hmm?” Oscar hums as he continues to suck on your nipple, while he’s flicking your other nub between his fingertips. “Wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.“

“Yes, yes- fuck, yes. Please, Oscar, more-“ your pleads earn you a slight chuckle out of the guy above you as his fingers find their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Quite talkative for someone who’s worried about being heard, don’t you think?” His lips are leaving faint marks along your collarbone and the tops of your boobs. Man, does he love seeing the very faint marks peek through the lower cut tops that you often wear during the summer. “You want more? Tell me what else you want, doll.”

As his fingers dip into your waistband, they start to lightly brush over your core as another soft, yet sharp, moans leaves your lips. You grab what you can of his hair and lightly tug him upwards to meet face to face with him. “Fuck- please fuck me, Oscar.”

“Yeah?” Oscar draws his hand out of your shorts as he starts to tug them down, along with your underwear before he throws them off to the side. “You want me to fuck you, hm? Is that what my pretty girl wants?”

“Yes, Oscar, please,” you breathe out, lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt, wanting less barriers between the two of you. “Want you inside me, so bad.”

It doesn’t take long before both of you finish undressing each other, and his lips are finding themselves attaching to your neck once again. His tip is just barely teasing your entrance and he continues to work his way all over your neck and chest.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good and make you mine, princess.” Oscar groans into your ear as he slowly starts to push himself into you, enticing the sweetest of moans from your lips as you savor the feeling of Oscar filling you up as promised.

You both were, in fact, not quiet enough, as Lando was tortured with faintly hearing both of you moan. He quickly threw on his noise-canceling headphones, making a mental note to clown the both of you the next morning.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ Of Fatherhood And Dreams Not Spoken ✧₊⁺

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x OC (Astraea)/ Khan is in this. It's mostly him and Roboute talking.

Author's Note: Because I'm terrible at writing a story proper. I rather just write drabbles from the overall plot I have in mind. That being said this overall plot I have named "Wisdom in the Stars". And here are some key things to note for this overarching story:

This is all very self-indulgent and I will not apologize. If the Grimdark can be extra, so can I!

Bobby G's love interest is a xenos of my making, so they are as long-lived as him, but not a perpetual.

Again mad self-indulgent. Oozing copium by the ton

Rowboat Guillotine deserves a happy life and some damn peace

So many Primarchs are going to be back in some drabbles. Again no fucks given

Proofread? Never heard of her

I like saying Roboute's name wrong as a means of affection.

Warnings: Slight nsfw at the end. Talks of pregnancy, children, and kinks of the breeding variety.

18+ ONLY

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

There were oh so many things he's done that made those words that thundered in his head in a cacophonic choir ring true. Tool. Betrayer. Theif. Why did he focus on those? Perhaps deep down he knew them to be true.

He wanted to be a good son, and he was to his parents. But to his creator? The one that called him his last hope? Even now with all that was accomplished, he wasn't so sure. An effective tool? That he was.

Oh, how that was the crux of this all now. Because something was breaking. Had been for so long. The strict need to follow His every word, every teaching to the letter had long started to crumble. To this point, he could justify it. Excuse himself. But this?

Vibrant blue eyes that had started to have a light behind them, a sign of the better times he was in, gazed down at the dataslate. The message he was reading was still open, not that he needed to read it again. The words burned into his mind. Screamed of his selfishness and brought the crippling fear he might fall like the one before him that wanted such heretical things for himself.

The wrestling of what parts of him were human had never been so hard. Basic human needs were beyond him. At least he believed that. But since his revival and she walked into his life...Why hadn't the Emperor made them machines?

His gaze moved again, this time back to the garden in which he sat, relaxing of sorts. Something he was learning to do. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not yet. She was playing with some children of her maidens. The laughter of the little ones made him impossibly light and much larger than he was.

Those sounds filled him with feelings new, but also familiar. He sounded like that when his mother played with him, and cared for him. Yes, he was a child once, despite how quick his mind grew. His mother never let that stop him from being a child in some capacity.

Yet those laughs terrified him and cast a deep shadow of guilt and shame. Not for him, never for him. A Primarch has no need for biological children, any children. He had his Astartes sons. The best of the best are forged through painful surgeries and grueling tests. Mass-produced versions of the tool they were templated from. He was a god of war, a weapon, and weapons do not need things their masters need.

Roboute scowled. When the stirrings rose up, hot and drowning him out.

"You should do it."

Roboute had been so lost in his mind he hadn't noticed Jaghatai had taken a seat next to him.

"Excuse me?" Guilliman asked. His composure not once gave a hint of how chaotic his mind was at the moment.

At first, it was as if Khan wasn't going to answer him, "Horus, would slip from time to time, about how his children would rule the stars after the crusade was done. Even when Malcador with cold words would remind him, that the only reproducing we would have were our gene-sons," Khan sighed, "You are not going to turn into the next Horus because you long for family not us, or your gene-sons. Do the procedure."

Before Roboute could ask how he knew that was on his mind, or even what he was told Jaghatai continued, "You've been watching Astraea and those kids with so much intent like you were trying to manifest something. That and you happen to want to go to the planet in their empire that is known for its advanced DNA work medical procedures on many races? Namely in the areas of conception? Please. Most of our brothers might be blind, but I and Corvus know better. You're the one who took your gene-seed sample, yes?"

Guilliman nodded, "I assume Corax is the one who found that out?"

Khan nodded, "And Cawl, they handled it. So do it. You out of all of us, always thought of a galaxy at peace, or the closest to it. You never lived for the hunt, the fight, but the peace. You fought for peace over thrill and power. So take this. You are not Horus. You are not weaker. I think we are all starting to wake up in a sense. It is...uncomfortable. But perhaps, we are more than the sum of our creation?"

"I hope so." was all Roboute could say.

༺═──────────────═༻

This, out of everything was what he loved now that the galaxy wasn't on the verge of ending. Laying in bed with Astraea while a fire burns gently. Her soft hums lull him into comfort and bliss. Large fingers drew little circles over her belly, as his mind offered him images of her heavy with their children. How, as much as he hated the word, divine she would look. Oh, how he would worship her. A goddess in her own right. a living one who brought life into the world. Life she deemed him worthy of creating with her.

His mind continued with the future it was offering. How she would waddle about and rely on him to help her stand, or lean against when walking took everything. Her trying to ride him when is looks so ready to pop. How he would fuck her like he could put another one in her before the first child is born. Her already beautifully full breasts, engorged and heavy with milk.

Roboute blushed when he felt himself pushing against her. He craved it so bad, despite how much it scared him.

"Roboute?" Astraea hummed looking over her shoulder with an impish grin, "And here I thought you were tired."

She kissed his chin, as she turned to face him, hands roaming over his strong broad chest, before gliding down to his erection.

He could smell it, she was already aroused. Oh, how she melted for him so easily. But he was the same for her. There were some days he had to force himself away from her for a bit, worried all he would do is fuck her until they both were raw and overtaken by the ruinous powers.

"Would you want children?" Roboute asked, between his heated breaths and needy kisses.

Astraea looked at him a bit surprised, and yet like she half expected this, "I thought we had to wait on even marrying, let alone speak of family. But of course I want children. You know this." she replied.

He did. But he still wanted to ask, as if her mind had suddenly changed.

"Good," he smiled rolling on top of her, holding himself up on his knees, which were on each side, "Then we should get some more practice in."

He leaned down and nipped at her ear, as a hand moved over her breasts and down to her hot core, "For once the procedure is done, you are not leaving my side and bed until it sticks."

This might be the single most selfish thing he would do, but he wouldn't regret it. He wanted to feel human, to understand all that he had been fighting to protect for all these long years.

[elvenbeard]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Yes I'm actually doing this on a Wednesday wooo :D

I just went back through all my tags of the last month and man, you guys ;__; <3 I'm not good at keeping up with tumblr atm and I don't have something to share every week, so I think once a month a WIP Wednesday might be a good compromise XD Thank you for all the tags!!

@theviridianbunny @dreamskug @ouroboros-hideout @lokiina @therealnightcity @chevvy-yates tagging you all right back!

So, with that off of my list of works in progress, as is answering all the tag games and quizzes, some projects I'm working on atm:

Writing: Love is stored in the olive jar (WT) - Chapter 13

It's done, but still needs a lot of editing, as it got very heavy on dialogue in the end and I want it all to flow more nicely and make it a bit more scenic XD Too many instances of "she looked up again" or "he paused for a moment/second" xD But I'm getting there! Here's a snippet from the already somewhat polished beginning:

“Alright,” Fuentes said as she finally caught her breath again, “I suggest we cut straight to the chase.” “Yes,” V nodded, “Thank you again for taking the time.” “Of course,” Fuentes nodded, “I have to admit, I have been thinking about you and your case a lot these past days. Even with the limited knowledge I have so far, I still believe I may be able to help. If you are willing now to tell me more about your condition now, of course.” ‘Willing’ wasn’t the word V would use, it was more a necessity at this point. “I will,” he said, “But only if you can provide me with a certain level of security.” Fuentes shifted in her chair slightly and frowned, then she opened one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a tablet. She turned it on and began to search for something on it while maintaining eye contact with V as best as she managed. “You’ve come here today as my patient. As far as I’m concerned, everything, anything that we discuss, falls under the doctor-patient confidentiality. My contract with the Little China MedCenter binds me to treat your data and information with utmost care and discretion. All data we store is locked away securely, all in accordance with your Trauma Team policy. I can resend you the patient information papers and contracts, although I think most of them you should already have…” “I care less about the MedCenter than about what you personally do with the information I’m going to give you,” V said, and Fuentes stopped her search, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re alluding to,” she said, still polite, but significantly more tense than before. “Nothing,” V shook his head carefully, “This is just not something I tell random strangers on the street… no offense, of course. If I have to play with open cards, I need you to as well.”

In which Vince hates doctors but has to trust one now, boo XD

Writing: Some drabbles :3

Inbetween the longfic I still have some ask prompt drabbles to fill that I'm looking forward to tackling soon! And in a sudden burst of inspiration I wrote out a long although not very serious convo between Vince and Johnny the other day xD I'd love to turn it into a (VP) comic maybe, but I'm not sure yet XD

Art: Nothing new since last time, slowly chipping away at some bigger projects inbetween

VP: Currently no concrete plans for a bigger project

Although I wanna do more "days in the life" for Vince!! And I wanna play around more with some poses though and have a very soft set to share that I gotta edit a bit still ;_; Tomorrow probably!

Also, I'd like to turn the interface thingies from my recent "V as NPC" projects into shareable templates, that is also on my wip/ to-do list! Just wanna gather some in-game reference shots first :D

Modding: 👀👀👀

I'm working on a little something maybe, and I'm so excited :DDD Just gotta relearn how to do Archive XL, it's been half a year xD And I fought MLSetup Builder so fucking hard, but now I know how to edit MLMask Setups, so that's a victory at least XD And I have a base for a very kitschy coat :3

But yes, so much to that so far! See you again in a month or so probably with an ever-growing pile of wips xD But maybe some more writing, maybe some more art, and maybe a finished mod after too long 👀

[spiritofthenortheners]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @marbled-polecat 💛 Had to look at my stats for this and was in for some surprises 😅

1. How many works do you have on AO3? I have 43 works on AO3, all of those are fics.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 285,225 (surprised myself here).

3. What fandoms do you write for? Star Wars and recently I’ve written some Call of Duty thanks to my partner playing the game.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos

Hit and Run (CoD, Soap/Ghost, Rated E)

Under Arrangement (SW, Fox/Rex plus several other relationships, a part of Over the Line which is a fix-it series where Order 66 is prevented. Rated E)

No White Lies (CoD, Soap/Ghost. Rated E)

Come Down With Me (SW, several relationships, Jesse/Kix, Echo/Fives, Fox/Rex…from Over the Line series. Rated E)

After Sunset in Coruscant (from Over the Line too, mostly Fox/Rex. Rated E)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! It may take some days but definitely yes.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I’d like to say presences since it’s meant to be a horror-vibe Cody/Fox story. I write angst but I also like the ending to have some hope, if not complete happiness.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Close Calls. At least I tried to make the ending very happy (do not look at the ruins of Coruscant burning in the background too closely, focus on the kissing)

8. Do you get hate on fics? I haven’t so far so maybe I go with not yet?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes I do, definitely. Messy fucked up kind and also sometimes a bit fluffier. I like exploring different dynamics in relationships and sex is one of the ways to do this exploring. I prefer my smut with plot though.

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of!? Crossing fingers here…

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, once!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Oh this is a hard one… I tend to like several ships? Cody and Rex in every possible iteration. Cody/Thire. Fox/Rex but only if Rex is the more messed up one. Ghost/Soap. Might be easier to say I don’t really have all time favourites 😂

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Since I usually only have a couple of WIPs at the time I think my odds at finishing them are decent but no promises!

16. What are your writing strengths? I’d like to think writing characters who are flawed or somewhat ambiguous with their motivations? I’m also rather quick at getting the first draft out, it’s the editing that takes time.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Spelling errors. I also struggle with ending a sentence with a simple dot too much. While writing I get loads of ideas and try to incorporate them into the fic only to realise after a while it won’t work with the direction the plot was meant to go. Um so yeah there’s a lot to learn *shrugs*

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Mm. Always a bit tricky, but I do like short easily understandable phrases and such a lot.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Haha since I’m old… Charmed. Those drabbles have been buried deep in the floppy disk cemetary.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? A tie with All the Things No One Said and Deep End.

No pressure tagging @bilbosmom-belladonna and anyone interested 💛

The template below for easier access.

20 Questions for Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

[cravingbro]

Totebag

siblings drabbles au : 750 words — physical attacks, bunch of clingy interaction, love-hate relationship.

My hands were shaking but I had to do this for the sake of my organization. So, I approached my brother and sneaked around his arms while he was playing mobile game.

"What?" he asked, still focusing his entire soul on the game.

"I need your help to—"

"I'm busy."

"When will you ... not busy?"

"I don't know."

I sighed, not knowing what else I could do beside waiting. The only thing I can do at that time was just staring on his screen while he groaned and yelled the whole time. Strangely, he never kicked me out even though I might covered half of his screen. Instead, he placed his jaw on the top of my head.

"What task?" he asked another question. He is so used with helping me finish my task. That is why a templated-question came out. But I did not have any task to do at the moment, so I did not reply except with a slow head-shake. "Nothing, it's just that our event ... need a model for totebag promotion on social med—"

"I'll take your picture later. Two more games, okay?" He cut my words with his offering, which I responded immediately. "No no no. It's not me. We need a man to wear it, so that it's not just women who'll buy our stuff," I uttered. My brother paused his game in instant then glared at me sharp. "You're not going to use me for that, right?"

"Please?" I practically begged in tiny voice, while he yelled his disagreement out loud.

"They knew you look good on camera, so they ask me if I could—"

"Why the fuck did you— Geez ... I can't do it," he yelled while raising both hands up as a surrender signal. I embraced his abdomen tight then whispered, "Should we eat sushi for dinner?"

"It's not about food negotiation. It's a matter of my face—"

"Actually you can look down! Or cover your face with hands! Make it something like ... shy, naturally-handsome prince wearing a minimalist totebag ...," I shouted in excitement. He frozed all of sudden, realizing what a monkey-like his sister had become when she is desperate.

"Please, they will yell at me if I fail." I put on a gloomy face, but he just blew my face jokingly.

"Louder than your teacher?" he teased with a question. "Even louder than you," I replied, mimicking his face when he is mad. He pinched both of my cheeks and shook my head like a toy. Then he said, "Salmon sushi for dinner and it's a deal."

"Salmon?! Hell yeah, my money's limited!" I yelled back, yet he just laughed out loud as he hugged me tight.

"Tuna tuna tuna," he bargained. "Fresh tuna. Raw and uncooked," he added as he smiled.

"Alright," I whispered. He then lifted me up, threw me back to the sofa, and stood up. Right before he walked, I kicked his butt yet he catched my feet and pulled it until I fell from the sofa.

"What shirt do I need to wear?" he asked as he covered his face from my potential-smashes. I stood up while catching my breath. I almost went all-out but he was giving me a gloomy face.

"Can you just ... go shirtless? It might sell more," I joked. He hissed and rolled his eyes before he pointed a middle finger on me. Later, he grabbed my shoulders, swung me, then pushed me while shouted, "Get out from the house!"

We continued throwing jokes and teasing each other until the sudden-amateur photoshoot was done and the sun set three hours later. As I promised, we ordered tuna sushi and ate afterward. However while we eat, I could saw his phone screen clearly and I saw him literally changed his social media's profile picture using the photo we just took.

"The fuck, man," I murmured. He burst out laughed although his mouth were full of rice. "Since I looked as good as you said," he replied and gave me wink out of nowhere. I choked immediately as I threw a punch to his shoulder.

"Stop doing that! I'm not your marketplace for that silly wink," I yelled. He chuckled and could not stop for a while.

For fuck's sake, that evening, I actually felt great that the totebag photoshoot went well. But the fact that I needed my brother to get it done definitely boiled my blood to the max. What a narcissistic ass he had became. He could not stop zooming in every photos and adore himself. Ew.

[solynaceawrites]

The ABCs of Demonology [6]: Favorite Position

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, fem!Reader Tags: NSFW Alphabet, Drabble Collection, Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship Chapters: 6/26 Summary: A series of drabbles based on the-coldest-goodbye’s NSFW Alphabet template. Each drabble has a different theme, but all of them star Dante Sparda.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante is a man of simple tastes. Despite what his monthly coat expenditure might lead you to believe, he doesn’t care much about finer things; he’s fine with the cheap six packs of beer and cheaper pizza—though he does have a love for top-shelf booze that he indulges in from time to time—and that translates into the bedroom, too. Sure, he appreciates lingerie when you wear it, and gets that adorable flush to his cheeks whenever you bring in candles to make the night more romantic, but he’s really just happy to share that intimacy with you. Everything else is secondary.

That doesn’t mean he lacks preferences. You’d learned early on that he’s got quite a few things he enjoys more than others, and some things drive him absolutely wild. Tug his hair and he’ll pound you into the mattress. Paint your lips red and he’s desperate to see them around his cock. Wear a skirt with no panties beneath and he’ll have you hiked up on his desk with his head between your thighs in no time. And, if you’re feeling particularly bold or needy, getting close enough to plead breathlessly in his ear will have his other half coming out to play faster than you can blink, leaving you more than satisfied and shaky-legged for the next couple of days.

Those preferences of his extend to how he fucks you, too. It’s not always exactly the same, especially when it comes to location, but there are positions he favors above the others: having you on your knees while he takes you from behind, because it lets him deeper and he’s got more control over the pace; lying on top of you, his mouth searing on yours, craving the connection, every inch of your bodies pressed together; and your personal favorite, you on top, your back to him as you ride his dick. Something about it just makes your pleasure sharper than the other positions you’ve tried. Maybe it’s the semblance of control over a man who’s so powerful. Maybe it’s how different the stretch is, or how you can so easily change the angle with a shift of your hips. Maybe it’s how needy it makes him. Or maybe it’s all of that, along with some other reasons you haven’t thought of.

Whatever the case, you don’t think either of you will ever get tired of it.

“Fuck,” he groans, and you grin as you toss your hair over your shoulder. Your thighs are burning from how long you’ve been riding him, but you don’t mind; the only reason he hasn’t filled you yet is the ring clamped snugly around the base of his cock, and the only reason that’s still in place are the cuffs snapped around his wrists. Every time you sink onto his length, he lets out a groan that has more wetness seeping from your body, and you brace on hand behind you on his stomach while you use the other to tease your throbbing clit.

“Mm,” you moan, making a show of your head falling back. You’ve been teasing him for nearly an hour now—teasing yourself, too—and you wonder how much more he can take before he breaks out of his restraints and fucks your brains out. Which is your end goal, really. Riling him up is certainly fun, but it’s the moment his self-control snaps that you really live for. “You need to come, baby?” “Please,” Dante rasps. You slide your fingers a little lower to stroke the base of his cock, and his hips jolt in response. “Poor thing. It’s too bad you’re all tied up.”

“Babe . . .”

“Am I going too fast?” You hear the handcuffs rattle as he strains against them, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Need me to slow down?”

He doesn’t reply, and you’re turning to make sure he hasn’t had a stroke when there’s the sound of metal snapping and his arms wind around your waist, pinning your own against your body. His mouth presses to your shoulder as he reaches down to break the ring, and you shudder when he teeth graze your skin and he drags your arms behind your back, holding them there with one large hand around your wrists. “This what you wanted, darlin’?” Dante growls. “Mm-hm. Took you long enou—oh.” 

Unable to move, you can only moan as he begins to rock his hips, the stroke of his cock within you deep and powerful. “Gotta say,” he grunts. “The handcuffs? Nice touch. Next time, you’ll be in ‘em.”

You shudder to think of what he’ll do to you with you completely at his mercy, and he laughs roughly as he catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth and gives it a tug. “For now, why don’t you come on my cock? Since that’s what I know you’re desperate to do.”

“You first,” you laugh. Dante presses you forward, forcing your shoulders down to press against his thighs and your hips in the air. “Give me a show and I will,” he replies.

You huff, wriggling as best as you can in his grip. “How am I supposed to do anything like this?” you complain.

He pauses for a moment before saying, “Good point.” Then he grabs your waist, and you yelp as you’re flipped onto your back and dragged up onto his lap. “Much better.”

“I thought you didn’t like missionary,” you mutter.

Dante grins. “Doesn’t matter which position, as long as I can see you.”

You’re about to give him a scolding when he leans over you, his mouth finding your breast as his length presses back between your folds, and you moan and grip his hair as he moves in earnest. Like this, your body stretched around him, you can feel every bump and ridge of his cock, from the flare at the tip to the vein that runs along the underside, and you moan helplessly as it drags along your walls, causing a friction that makes your core clench. Add in the pulses of pleasure from his lips tugging at your nipple and you know you’re not gonna last much longer. Give him a show, he’d said, and as you slip your hand between your bodies to part your folds you think, I will.

[pikapeppa]

Pikapeppa Tutors: How to accurately portray canon characters in your fanfic

@the-rogue-mockingjay ahh I’m so honoured you would ask me about this! Forgive me - I’ve gotten carried away and decided to write a little tutorial post to answer!

I will preface this by saying my key goal when writing fanfic is to represent canon characters (henceforth CCs) as accurately as possible, both in their personalities and in their speech patterns. If a reader tells me they can hear the dialogue I wrote in that character’s voice, then I have done my job properly. Now, this is NOT the only way to write fanfic; some people write it as pure fantasy fulfillment without worrying too much about keeping things in-character, and that’s ok too. I personally strive to write CCs to be as true to their canon as possible, and that’s the outlook I’ll take in answering this ask.

Since Rogue asked about Dragon Age’s Fenris, we’ll use him as an illustrative example. 

Tip #1: Learn as much as you can about your canon character.

This first step is pretty straightforward: learn as much as you can about the CC. Find out as much as you can about their backstory: where they’re from, their social status, their family, any major traumas they’ve been through, any key positive experiences in their life. Watch Youtube videos of all the dialogue options with the CC in question, since dialogue that you haven’t seen in your own playthrough can give new and fresh facts or perspective. Very importantly, read or listen to all of their canon dialogue with the other companions in the party, so you can see who they get along with and who they clash with, and why they clash. It is my belief that some of the most important information you can learn about any character is how they interact with the people around them, so searching for all of the CC’s canon dialogue is something I strongly recommend. The Dragon Age Wiki and Youtube are great sources for writing Fenris, or any DA characters, obviously. 

The more you know about the CC, the more accurately you’ll be able to portray the CC’s actions and reactions when you start writing them. Knowing as much as you can about the CC’s backstory, motivations, and temperament is especially important if you’re thinking of writing in the CC’s POV, like I have done with Fenris. 

CAUTION: Don’t worry about knowing every single fact about the CC. Don’t let yourself be paralyzed by the possibility of not knowing everything.

I’ll use my own example of Fenris to illustrate this. When I first started writing Fenris, I hadn’t even finished playing DA2 yet; I’d only gotten to the beginning of Act II when I was seized with the urge to write him. I somehow managed to write all the way through to Act III before I realized - from watching Youtube clips - that Fenris was regularly sexually abused by Danarius. (In my playthrough, I didn’t get the dialogue from Danarius where he taunts Fenris about this.) That’s a pretty huge fucking piece of information about Fenris’s character, IMO, and one that I still smack myself now for not realizing ahead of time. Once I discovered it, I incorporated it into my writing of his character (and somehow no one seemed any the wiser since I never got any complaints LOL). All of this is to say that you don’t have to know EVERYTHING to start writing the CC! 

Tip #2: Make up a character sheet for the CC. If you’re writing a romance, make up a character sheet for the CC’s love interest as well.

A character sheet is a good way of just compiling together everything you know about the character and getting a clearer picture of who they are in your mind. Making a character sheet is something that every writer does differently. There are probably some writers who don’t do it at all, while some people have very structured templates. 

Personally, I don’t have a formal way of writing a character sheet; I just word-vomit freeform facts into a doc. And since romantic relationships play a central role in my writing, I tend to have a character sheet for both characters together, with a huge focus on how the two characters’ personalities will impact - and be impacted by - their relationship as time goes on. 

Let me use Fenris and Rynne Hawke as an example. Here’s the beginning of my outline doc for Fen and Rynne. PLEASE FORGIVE MY TYPOS, Maker help me.

**************************

***************************

So as you can see, this character sheet gives info about Rynne, plot-important aspects of her appearance (her tattoo), and why Fenris would fall in love with her. It’s not comprehensive or particularly organized, but it contains crucial information about my plot - i.e. Rynne and Fenris falling in love and getting together. 

Tip #3: Listen to audio clips to capture the CC’s speech patterns.

Once you have a good handle on the CC’s backstory and motivations, it’s time to think about writing the actual words that they would say. Honestly, the way I capture a CC’s voice is by listening ad nauseum to Youtube clips of their dialogue so I can have their voice and speech patterns in my head when I’m writing. While I’m in the middle of writing, I frequently pull up dialogue video clips to refresh my memory of their voice and to make sure I can imagine them saying the lines I wrote. (As you can imagine, listening to video clips of Fenris talking is NO HARDSHIP WHATSOEVER.)  

Tip #4: Don’t worry about portraying them perfectly right away.

Like all skilled crafts, writing is a learning process, and you have to start somewhere! It can definitely be intimidating to start writing a CC, especially CCs who have extensive and complex backstories or attitudes like Fenris or Solas. But I have also found that the more you write, the more you will come to know your CC. The more you write, the more natural and familiar their voice will become. To be boring and cliche, practice makes perfect!

One way to ease into writing a CC, especially when writing from their POV, is to take some of their canon dialogue and write a drabble about their thoughts during that moment of dialogue. This can be a fun and low-pressure exercise for getting yourself into the CC’s headspace and speech patterns. For example, early in my Fenris writing, I wrote this very short oneshot revolving around Fenris’s famous “I dance, of course” dialogue line with Varric, which illustrates his sense of humour, his relationship with Merrill and Varric, and his growing crush on Rynne.

Tip #5: My Fenris is not your Fenris.

It’s important to remember that the more you write a character, the more that character will change in ways that may not necessarily be canon, because people change and grow by virtue of their relationships with the people around them. For instance, “my” Fenris has a somewhat softened stance toward mages as a consequence of being in a rivalmance with a mage!Hawke who pushes him to challenge his anti-mage prejudices. But another writer’s Fenris could continue to be very anti-mage if their Hawke was also anti-mage, and that could still be true to character. As another example, I am also a notorious slut for the Fenris rivalmance, but I have written a oneshot of the Fenris friendmance, and that was challenging because it felt like I was writing a very different person. 

All this to say that different writers will write the same character in different ways, and all of those ways may still be accurate. The way I write Fenris is probably unlike the way other people write him, and that’s okay, because people - both real and fictional - are changed by their relationships with those around them. The idea is to retain the character’s core temperament and motivations while bending the aspects that are more flexible. To paraphrase someone somewhere on this hellsite who was talking about Solas at some point: “my Fenris is not your Fenris.” 

But Pika, you write dialogue for all the characters in Inquisition and DA2. Do you have a character sheet for every character? Have you done extensive research about all the characters?

HA. NO. Fenris is actually the only CC I have a character sheet for. But Fenris is also the CC I have written the most, and the vast majority of my FenHawke work has been from Fenris’s POV. He is also an undeniably complex and multi-faceted character, especially since you can both rival- and friendmance him, so I had to be well-informed and thorough in order to do him justice. 

If you’re planning to write the whole Dragon Age crew, I would say the amount of research you do about each of the CCs will depend on how large a role they’re going to play in your fic. For my Fenris the Inquisitor fic, Cole, Solas and Dorian have been playing pretty big roles, so I have done more research about them than about other characters in the cast. I don’t have character sheets for them, but my fic outline for Fenquisition does contain a lot of notes about Fen’s relationship with each of them. And I’ll still listen to video clips of them talking to refresh my memory of their speech patterns.

I hope this has been helpful for some aspiring fanfic writers out there! Let me know if there are other topics you’d be interested in reading about, and I’d be happy to address them if I can!

- Love, your friendly neighbourhood Pikapeppa xoxo

[papofglencoe]

31, 49, and 50.

Thank you for the ask, Alice! My carpet gremlin aka human spawn has decided she might be willing to nap, so here I am! *waves* I’m excited to dig into these. <3

31. Hardest character to write.

An original one! lol. It terrifies me starting from beauty base zero on a person. Since I’m making up stuff as I go with this new human, the pressure to write them IC with zero pre-established boundaries weighs on me. It was one of the most challenging parts of writing A Modern Love, writing an original character who could pass in some ways as Katniss, but also had traits of Johanna, and yet was completely herself. I have no idea if I even began to pull that off. But it was good practice. As for characters from THG... I spend the most time tweaking and fussing with Haymitch’s voice. Probably because I always write him as Woody, and he has such a distinctive voice and accent. I don’t know that necessarily means I find him hard to write, but he comes with the most rigid template for what he would say and do, and how he’d say and do it.  49. What do you find the hardest to write in a story, the beginning, the middle or the end?

The middle. Fucking hell. The middle. I just want to get to the end that I’ve already written. lol. I’m staring at this gap in Against the Wall with resentment, because all I want to do is get to the last chapter that’s been in the can for two damn years. 

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had. Well, it definitely has to be the thong drabble. I don’t think I could pull that off again today. My poor, sad, addled brain! 

[setaripendragon]

OT3 Drabble: Moustache

[Masterlist] Ahahahaha! I bet you thought I’d forgotten about/given up on this challenge, didn’t you? Well, it may have been more than a year since I wrote the last one, but I haven’t given up yet. I’m 4/5ths of the way to the end, and I’m going to finish this drabble challenge if it kills me! ...As you may have guessed, this prompt gave me trouble like you wouldn’t believe. I tried to write a thing for so many different OT3s and failed over and over. And then this happened, and I don’t even care that it’s one of my longest drabbles yet. I’m just so pleased I managed to write something I’m actually happy with. OT3 for this prompt: Jack/Will/Elizabeth from Pirates of the Caribbean.

The thing Elizabeth has found about supernatural curses, or spiritual contracts, or geasa, is that as long as you follow the letter of the deal, you’ll get away with whatever other loopholes you jump through. Like Will only being allowed to step foot on land once every ten years. After all, ‘land’ doesn’t include the deck of another ship.

Like the Fountain of Youth needing to steal all the years of life left to another. After all, if that other person is effectively immortal, and made that way by a goddess of the sea? Well, it turns out immortality can be shared. Like marriage vows including lines about faithfulness and ‘till death do us part’. After all, she’s still being faithful if Will knows, and is, in fact, in full agreement with her suggestion that maybe seducing Jack wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.

That last realisation was a long time in coming.

It was the moustache that did it, ridiculously enough.

The age of sail had long since come to a devastating conclusion, the seas thoroughly mapped and populated by soulless steel vessels, but that didn’t stop the Flying Dutchman, the Black Pearl, and the Queen Anne’s Revenge continuing to sail from port to well-remembered port. And sometimes the three of them could be found in the same port, for those with the eyes to see them at all, as their Captains met once every ten years to catch up over a pint.

Elizabeth had never asked how Jack had finally managed to gain immortality, but she would bet her ship that if she did, the answer would be something along the lines of ‘sea turtles, mate’. She had to admit, though, it suited him. She had worried, a little, when the steamships started getting everywhere and sails started vanishing from the horizon, that Jack wouldn’t be able to adjust.

She shouldn’t have. He gloried in being one of the last true pirates to sail the seas and fucking with the great metal beasts and their sailors, and he ignored just about everything else except the fashions. Elizabeth had to admit, they suited him; he cleaned up pretty nice, and these new waistcoats did rather flatter his figure. She herself was very much enjoying the new trend for trousers for women. It made her feel like far less of an odd duck, sitting in the bar in a pair of loose slacks, her feet kicked up onto the chair opposite her, Will beside her with his arm around her, his unfairly nice double-breasted jacket slung over the back of his own chair, and Jack off at the bar to buy the next round.

“Is he flirting with the bartender?” Will asked abruptly.

Elizabeth glanced up at him, then over at Jack, and snorted. “Of course he is.” Jack would flirt with any woman he tripped across, as long as she wasn’t completely deformed, but she had noticed that very much had a type when it came to men. And, now that she was looking at the man behind the bar, she couldn’t help but notice that Will fit the template to a T.

Will suddenly choked on the last dregs of his drink, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought he’d noticed the same thing she had, but; “Is he- Is he actually twirling his moustache?” He demanded incredulously, voice a little raspy.

Elizabeth looked back at Jack, and sure enough, he was. It was the same ostentatious, ridiculous gesture he’d once used on her on a deserted island beach, drunk off his ass and lit by firelight. She burst out laughing. “You know he tried to seduce me like that, once?” She asked him, grinning fondly at the memory, even though, at the time, it had aggravated her almost beyond reason.

Perhaps it was the amount of time that had passed, or the knowledge that they would be together for, quite literally, ever, that had softened the fear and jealousy enough that Will could laugh at that. “Did it work?” He asked mockingly. Elizabeth was about to say no, obviously not, when she realised that, whether it had or not in the past, it was kind of working now. Slowly, she closed her mouth again, thinking that over. “Elizabeth?” Will asked warily.

“Would it work on you?” She asked, slow, watching Will from under her lashes.

The oh shit expression on his face spoke volumes. Elizabeth started to grin. Will stared at her with a mixture of awe and terror on his face. “That is a terrible idea.” He warned her, but his lips were curling up a bit at the corners.

“Now, what are you two smirking about on your lonesomes over here?” Jack asked as he sauntered back to the table, three glasses held expertly in front of him. “Should I be worried?” Elizabeth tipped her head back to smirk at him, very deliberately letting her expression turn sultry. Jack, unexpectedly, recoiled, clutching the glasses to his chest like a mother clutching her newborn.

Will straightened, concerned. “Jack?”

“The last time she looked at me like that,” Jack announced with great offence, “she burnt all the rum!”

[backwoodscowboy-blog1]

(( Infested!Jimmy drabble under the cut! Warnings for body horror and general nastiness (dry heaving n stuff too). It’s over 1.5k words long. Happy Halloween!))

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The last few days had been draining for Jim. Hell, draining was an understatement- basic tasks had exhausted him. Such ill feelings, especially after dealing with something particularly... virulent, on a hive planet, was essentially the equivalent of being locked up and told that your execution was the next day. He had expected to feel like crap for the next week or so, blissfully unaware of the reality of this situation- it was nothing he couldn't get through, he told himself. Normally, he would be able to shake the feeling of something being hideously wrong, though Raynor chalked it up to general paranoia. It was in his best interest to get some sort of rest, both for his own sake and to avoid Matt hounding him about the fact he should be taking better care of himself.

Fate had something else in store for Jim; something that would make a petty annoyance look heavenly.

Jim had no clue what time it was the moment he jolted up from his bed, eyes wide and fearful, the rest of him covered in a cold sweat. Something was wrong, but what? Whatever the disturbance was, it was soon sharp and sudden enough to wrench him from any semblance of rest. There was a growing pain in his chest- perhaps if it were any slower it would be bearable, but no; this was a fierce stabbing, piercing sensation. First it was his chest and lungs, then a searing agony throughout the rest of his abdomen. Instinctively, Raynor clutched at his chest, the source of the pain he was going through- what the fuck was happening to him? Whatever it was, it was wrong. It was something worse than he could comprehend. His panicked, disjointed breathing had become wheezing. His voice caught at the back of his throat. Everything was so sudden, and if breathing hurt enough then he wasn't going to cry out.

The pain in his torso was something he could handle, though it only worsened as it coursed through the rest of him while this sickness- if it could be considered something so small- advanced. He was coming out of his skull. That's all he could think. Jim clawed at the side of his head, hunched over and unable to shake the feeling of a thick fog hanging over him. It rendered him confused; confused and unable to grasp the true reality of this. The reality of him ending up as some shambling zombie, so perhaps being unable to process what the hell was going on was somewhat of a positive, right? Despite how detached he was, Raynor’s body knew that it had to get rid of whatever was doing this. Before he knew, he was thrown into a violent fit of coughing and hacking that could've woken half the damn crew. Violent seemed to be an understatement with how long it dragged on for.

He was going to cough up a lung at this rate. With the strain he was putting himself and the budding infection, Jim’s throat was raw, as if he had been sitting there coughing for hours now. For once Jim didn't pay any mind to tears welling in his eyes. On any normal occasion he hated crying- it always made him feel so vulnerable. It was the last thing he wanted to be, but he’d take being a sobbing mess over a hacking wheezing heap of a man. Luckily enough, he was granted a few short moments to catch his breath, wheezing as if he had just been shot. He was beginning to wish he had been shot instead. Less pain that way. The coughing, as violent as it was, was something he could handle. It was tolerable up until a wave of nausea struck him- more of a crashing tidal wave of sorts, enough to force him to get up out of bed so he didn't have to throw up here and now.

This didn't turn out as planned.

All Raynor could manage was stumbling for a couple of seconds before unceremoniously falling onto all fours, hair falling over his face and true fear in his wide eyes. He was heaving on the ground in mere moments in an attempt to force anything out of his body. Jim could taste bile rising in the back of his throat, but there was nothing. The most he could manage between strained gagging and the odd cough was spitting out the pooling spit and bile. It burned his throat, his lungs- just about every part of him was in utter agony. All he could muster was pained groans through gritted teeth when he wasn't heaving or choking.

However, gagging turned into wheezing, and wheezing into shallow panting as he felt his blood run cold. One of his arms- he noticed something growing, then the same sensation manifested itself on the other. A tumour of flesh, all too natural yet simultaneously far from it as he felt it grow, crawling across bare skin.

His mind was screaming at him. Screaming that he had to run, that he had to get this off him as soon as he could, but there was something holding him in place. Was it the growing infestation? Was it pure fear? Both? Jim didn't know. He didn't understand- why here or now. Why it had to be him.

Perhaps the sound was one of the worst parts. It was fleshy; disgustingly so, and there must've been cracks of bone-like growths spreading as partial carapaces. It was coming out of his skin and muscle now, wrapping thin tentacles around him as if to anchor itself. It eventually made its presence on his back, spreading to most of his torso and down his spine until no living person would recognise what he was becoming as human. To the infestation, Jim was a somewhat functioning template now. Terrans weren't even worthwhile hosts, which somehow managed to add another level of horror to this. That he wasn't even going to be needed.

Human flesh was melded with that of the Swarm, until no force was going to be able to separate the two. Taking a bullet was more desirable than the feeling of skin essentially being dissolved during this, the burning worse than bile in the back of his throat by tenfold. His arms- legs too at this point, had been contorted and malformed to the point they unrecognizable. Chitin claws had manifested on deformed graspers, their only purpose being to inflict damage. His clothes had been torn with how rapid these changes were, the shell covering parts of him ironically causing more damage here.

His organs had been morphed into god fucking knows what and his limbs were raw with pain and far, far from human. Jim had considered himself strong- even if his strength wasn't the defining feature of him, Jim Raynor was by no means a weak man. But being reduced to a mess on the ground, shakily wheezing with tears streaming down his cheeks- it made him feel powerless. Just a creature at the mercy of the Swarm. Nothing more, and it was hard to think of him being anything less.

With the infestation in full swing, it was going to make whatever use of Jim’s body as it could. The new flesh that crept down his back didn't stop at rooting itself there- it provided a base of sorts for other more colourful growths. Jim was all too aware of this the moment there was a crack- it was loud. The sound of bone being snapped. It could’ve been bone that the virus had grown or it was his own. His or not, he felt every last part of it. In practically moments spires of bone was jutting out of his shoulder blades, dull purple muscle connecting it to the rest of him and covering the once exposed bone. There was an elbow of sorts, and a forelimb tipped with thorns- spikes? Some sort of natural weapon, and a vile one at that. Both new limbs were twitching and shuddering much like the rest of Raynor’s still conscious body.

Now, if his head didn't feel like someone had kicked it into the curb earlier, it fucking felt worse by tenfold now. It was mostly in his jaws. The fact he kept his teeth surprised him, but more of them growing haphazardly out of his soon bleeding gums sent him into more of a panic. His face was contorted in pain. There were some familiar sounds from earlier, all too loud by now.

Snap.

It was deafening. Echoing in his ears. Raynor tasted blood.

His jaw had halved itself in the blink of an eye. The exposed flesh had mended itself, of course- regeneration was another side effect of this. Thin muscle gave a base to the two mandibles, both of which sprouting fangs like weeds at each and every angle. Hisses had accompanied groans among other sounds that you’d expect from some sorry animal that got hit by a truck.

Was there still humanity in him? Jim didn't know. The fog still hung over him, the only thing occupying any humane thoughts being to return to the Swarm. This wasn't him. This wasn't the grand rebel leader- he was losing himself as spines trailing across his back bristled defensively. Everything on this ship- it was a threat now. He was able to move again soon, unable to avoid shooting pain from how raw everything still felt.

Losing yourself while being morphed into a monster.

What did it matter?

Raynor belonged to the Swarm now.