#Automatic Pool Leveller

[endlesspoolss]

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[confetti-critter]

I was figuring out how exactly map pixel art works and so I filled the border of the smallest map size in creative and....ah.

[rivierapools]

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[bitters-n-sweets]

clementine — andrew "pope" cody x fem!reader You’re looking for a bodyguard and Pope is the perfect person for it

warnings: ANGST, bodyguard!pope, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of su1c1d4l tendencies, reader’s parents are not good people—her dad is trying to kill her, probably ooc towards the end sorry, mdni, not proofread wc: 3.9k+ masterlist

“$200,000.”

Pope’s eyebrow raises, clearly skeptical. “I’m being paid $200,000 to be security?”

“A personal bodyguard,” Deran clarifies, “But yeah.”

Pope scoffs. “Is this a joke? Who the hell am I protecting, King Charles?”

Deran chuckles. “You’ll see.”

—

Pope doesn’t know why he said yes—well, the biggest incentive is the money, two hundred grand could fix a lot of things. But a job to protect someone? That’s not what he does. He breaks things. Hurts people. Wrecks whatever needs wrecking. Protection feels like the opposite of what he was made for. What makes Deran think he could do this job?

He’s instructed to go to this person’s beach house for further screening. It’s far from his place, about a two hour drive, and he gets there on time as requested; 9AM sharp.

He knocks on the door.

A voice cracks through the intercom: “Full name.”

“Andrew Cody.”

The door opens.

The place is sleek, modern. Ocean view. Infinity pool catching the sun like glass. And there—coming out of the water—is the only person in the house. You walk barefoot across the deck, barely covering your bikini with a robe, wet hair leaving trails across your shoulders.

Pope watches you, sizing you up automatically. At first, he thinks you must be someone’s girlfriend. But when your eyes meet his, level and assessing, he knows he’s wrong.

“So, you’re Deran’s brother.”

He nods. “You’re Clementine?”

You smile, a little wry. “Yeah, Deran calls me that. He tattooed the orange on my hip.” You show him the citrus tattoo poking out of your bikini and offer him to call your real name instead.

“And you?” you ask. “Do you prefer Andrew or Pope?”

“Either is fine.” He shrugs.

“Andrew it is.”

“Deran wasn’t lying when he said you’re intimidating.” You add, “And handsome.”

Andrew looks around your house, only sparing you a glance at your comment. It’s almost too perfect. Marble floors. Strategic decor. Cameras tucked into every corner, wide coverage, no blind spots. You’re expecting enemies, he thinks. Not company.

You hand him a glass of orange juice.

“So, Andrew. You clear on the directive, or do you have questions?”

He ignores the orange juice, putting it down on the counter. “How do you know Deran?”

“Surfing. Beers. Getting drunk.”

He looks at you. That’s not the full truth. You know it, and you know he knows it. But you just sip your juice and let the silence stretch.

“What do you need a bodyguard for?”

You smile politely, curtly. “I’m not telling you until you sign a contract with me. Sorry. Security reasons.”

Fair. Andrew thinks.

“All I can say is,” You add, “People want me dead. And I need someone to watch my six while I get rid of them.”

His eyes narrow. “Why me?”

“My last security team got compromised. I’m handpicking this one myself. Deran’s one of the few people I trust—and he said you’re the best.” You tilt your head, watching him closely. “So are you?”

Andrew takes a breath. “I only know how to hurt people.”

“Good.” You smirk. “I need you to hurt the people who try to hurt me.”

He stares at you — not quite sure what to make of you yet. Andrew is intrigued by your electric personality, your quips, your wit. But he’s also a little wary. He doesn’t know you yet. Doesn’t entirely know what you’re capable of. Heck, he’s not even sure what exactly is it you do, but the fact that you’re throwing around two-hundred grand for one bodyguard? It’s enough to make him stay.

You pull open a drawer, take out a contract and a pen, and slide them across the table.

“Read the terms and sign when you’re ready,” you say. “Payment comes after the job’s done.”

Andrew picks it up, flips through. Buried in the fine print is a clause: if he dies on the job, he waives liability. His lips tighten. Of course.

He looks up at you, a smirk on your face, watching him like you’ve already figured out what choice he’ll make.

He signs the papers and passes them back to you.

“Good to be working with you, Andrew.” You scan the contract, making sure he signed correctly. “You’ll be staying here with me throughout the contract, so you can go back and grab whatever you need. I expect to see you back here tonight.”

Andrew puts down the pen on your coffee table. And just before turning around to leave, he asks, “What makes you think you can trust me?”

You eye him from your kitchen counter, drinking the orange juice he didn’t dare touch while keeping eye contact.

“Maybe I can’t. But I know where Deran lives.”

Andrew isn’t sure if that’s a threat.

Before he has to go back to your place, Andrew tries to learn everything he can about you, but nothing turns up. No criminal record. No gossip. No digital breadcrumbs. Even Deran shrugs when he asks. Andrew doesn’t like working blind, but it’s too late to back out now.

When he pulls into your driveway that night, he’s surprised to see he doesn’t need to knock. The house scans his face and unlocks automatically.

Inside, he hears your voice before he sees you—you're on the phone in the living room.

“I’m trying to make a life for myself. You know this.” You say to the person on the other line.

Andrew spots a few empty beer bottles on the table.

Your voice rises — sharper, angrier. “Why are you still defending him?! Our whole lives, he—” You stop mid-sentence. You’ve caught sight of him in the reflection on the glass wall.

“You can tell him he can saw my head off my body himself.” You hang up and glance back at Andrew, a duffel bag in hand.

“Good, you’re back.” You say. “Ready for briefing?” Your tone is cool, like nothing happened.

Andrew says nothing at first. Just drops his duffel bag by the couch.

You toss him a beer, which he catches one-handed. He cracks it open but doesn’t drink yet.

Then you start talking. Handing him files about people he should look out for. It’s a lot more complicated than he thought.

You tell him everything. Not everything-everything — he knows you’re not reckless — but more than he expected.

Andrew learns a lot about your life then. You moved away from home at 15. Built a business from the ground up. Acquired, merged, dismantled. And now? You own multiple companies that directly compete with your father's and suddenly he wants you dead.

Suddenly Andrew feels a lot closer to you. He can understand where your rage is coming from. That kind of fury? That kind of betrayal? It changes people.

“So he’s put a bounty on your head.” Andrew raises a brow. “What if I just kill you now and take the bounty for myself?”

You don’t flinch. You just smirk, lips wrapping around the edge of your beer bottle. “I’d like to see you try.”

Andrew’s lip twitches, he almost smiled. “How much is the bounty anyway?”

“$200,000.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. He wants to say you’re crazy. You both take a drink and leave the night to the silence. Maybe now you understand each other a little better.

You let Andrew get used to his role of being your bodyguard for the first few days, watching how he moves, how he scans a room, how naturally he seems to step in front of you without thinking. You know he can fight, he’s got a very sharp eye, and he intimidates people, but what you need to know is whether he can actually keep you safe when shit hits the fan. So you take him out to bars, shadowy alleys that are just too suspicious—try to engage him in fights he’s not ready for.

So far? He’s passing with flying colors.

He’s just finished taking care of a few guys that jumped you from an alley. No wasted moves. Controlled rage. Efficient. By the time he’s finished, the bodies are barely breathing, slumped in a pile behind the dumpster. He’s panting when he walks back to you, knuckles bloodied, shirt rumpled.

“How’d I do this time?” He asks, catching his breath.

You smile at him. “Amazing as usual.”

You walk with him to the car, and just as he’s catching his breath, you toss in, “Though… I didn’t set these guys up.”

Andrew looks at you, eyes a little wide. “…Your dad really doesn’t play around.”

You laugh at his comment. Because you’ve been playing this game for a long time. “Oh, just wait till you meet him.”

He sighs, getting into the car. “Not looking forward to it.”

You’ve been staring at him the entire way back to your house. And Andrew knows—of course he does, you’re not trying to hide it, he just doesn’t know what to make of it. Not when you’re staring at him like that.

“Quit looking at me like—”

“Like what?” You ask, daring him to finish his sentence.

He swallows, glancing at you. “…You know like what.”

You grin, tearing your gaze away to the road instead and crossing your legs.

Back at the house, you grab the first aid kit before he can even kick off his boots.

“This-This is really not necessary.” Andrew stammers, watching you yank out the alcohol and band-aids.

“Andrew, please.”

Your voice is soft, patient as you start cleaning the scrapes on his knuckles.

He winces as the alcohol hits, and you immediately mumble, “Sorry.”

“Besides, it’s in our contract,” you add.

His eyes narrow, watching as you’re now cleaning his cut lip. “Is it?”

You suppress a smile and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to just leave you if you get hurt, Andrew.” You clarify. “I hired you to protect me, yes, but I have a responsibility to you, too.”

He feels his heart rate pick up. Now he’s staring at you. Not with suspicion. Not with wariness. Just a little surprised because he doesn’t expect to feel anything, and you’re so close.

You’re leaning in, carefully dabbing at the cut on his lip. He keeps flinching back slightly, and the closer you get, the more flustered he becomes.

You bite back a smile. He’s trying so hard to keep it together.

And then, because you can’t help yourself—you kiss his nose.

Andrew freezes.

That pause is all you need to stick the bandage on his forehead before he can shy away again.

“There,” you murmur, pleased with yourself.

Andrew doesn’t breathe until you get up to put the first aid kit where it belongs.

And even then, his eyes stay on you, like maybe he’s starting to realize this job isn’t going to go the way he thought.

You can see him turning slightly pink, and you think that’s enough torture for today. Poor guy’s been beat up twice—once by those guys in the alley, and again by your relentless teasing. Not like you could hold it any longer anyway. If it were up to you, you’d be smooching booties in every room of this house.

“You should get some sleep,” you say, this time more serious. “I know you don’t sleep much, but try anyway.”

You hesitate, then add, “In two days, things are going to get a little crazy.”

You pause. “A lot crazy.”

Andrew stands up slowly. He stops just before bumping into you. He looks down and holds your gaze.

“I can handle crazy.”

You spend the next day preparing for the event. The charity gala hosted by some privileged, overpowered organization is only a charity in name. It’s not about goodwill or giving back. It’s about control. Image. Legacy. And that’s exactly why it’s the perfect place to make your move.

Your father has no idea what’s coming.

You’ve planned every detail. The data, the footage, the timing—down to the moment the room will go quiet. All you need to do now is make sure everyone’s watching. And that you survive long enough to finish the job.

Because you know your father. He always has something up his sleeve.

That night, you can’t sleep. You’ve gone over everything with Andrew. Twice. Maybe three times. He knows the plan. He’s ready. But your mind won’t settle. Your body’s tired but your thoughts won’t let you rest. You finally get out of bed and head outside, needing air.

You sit by the pool, the water just up to your knees and the light reflecting on your face.

You remember the day you left your family like yesterday. A bunch of screams and tears from your mother, while your father basically dared you to run, chasing you with his gun. Your jaw tightens at the memory.

“Can’t sleep?” Andrew’s voice breaks the silence.

You glance over. He sits beside you, feet in the water. He’s not wearing a shirt — just a pair of loose black sweats, skin still damp from a shower.

You blink. “Jesus Christ. Are you trying to seduce me?”

Andrew looks down at himself, then at you, deadpan. “Is it working?”

That earns a soft laugh. The corner of your mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

But your smile quickly falters and he knows you probably have a lot on your mind. “Your plan’s good. Solid. You’ve covered everything.”

“I know.” You sigh. “I just... can’t shake the feeling something’s going to go wrong. That maybe it has to. I don’t know, my entire life is just fucked up.”

He nods. “Here’s to having a not-so-normal family.”

You almost forget he’s a Cody. “At least you all still live together.”

Andrew leans back on his arms. “That’s not necessarily something good. I… I needed a break from them. From Smurf. Deran and Craig noticed. I started to have these… thoughts. Tendencies.”

You let him go on.

“So… thank you. For this job.”

You smile, a little half-hearted, reminded that Andrew’s just doing another job. And soon enough you’ll be on your own. Again.

Day of the gala.

You arrive fashionably—deliberately late. It’s part of the plan. Every piece of tonight is curated to pull the rug from under your father’s feet, and nothing makes a man like him unravel faster than losing control of a room he thinks he owns.

Andrew stands beside you, his hand on your lower back, reassuring you that he’s got you.

Taking a deep breath, you push the main doors open. Your heels click against the marble as you step into the ballroom, head held high. You’re dressed in a statement of war; blood-red silk, backless, a slit cut dangerously high. You look like the kind of woman headlines get written about. The kind people remember. And it’s exactly what you need.

Your father is already speaking on stage when you walk in. It’s some grand monologue—about legacy, loyalty, impact, all those shiny, hollow words he thinks will cover up the blood and money dripping off his empire.

He sees you just as he’s launching into his favorite anecdote. And to his credit, he only stumbles for half a second. But that half-second is everything. The hush that moves through the room as people turn to look at you, and then at him, and then back at you again.

“Don’t stop now,” you call to him. Your voice is smooth, almost bored. “You were doing such a great job bullshitting. Father.”

Gasps ripple through the crowd like a breeze through dry grass.

Your father lets out a tight, practiced laugh into the mic, trying to salvage the moment. “Darling, I thought we agreed this wasn’t your scene anymore.”

“Oh father, please, it’s not my intention to take the light away from you.” You say sarcastically, “In fact, I have a gift.”

Across the ballroom, the projector screen glitches, and your first video begins to play. Grainy security footage. The audio is low but clear.

“Kill him now.”

“But boss, he’s the son of—”

“I don’t care. He took my money. He’s gonna pay for it with his life.”

And then a gunshot. Someone gasps. A few people shift uncomfortably. The video cuts out abruptly.

Then the second clip begins.

Your father again, younger but unmistakable. He pulls a gun and shoots a man point-blank in the head. The body drops like a sack of bricks. He steps over it without flinching.

“Clean it up,” he tells a trembling assistant off-screen. “Burn it all.”

You watch your father from the corner of your eye. He hasn’t moved. Not yet. But his jaw is tense, and you know what that means. He’s calculating. Waiting to see what else you have. You smile. Because you’ve saved the best for last.

The third video starts.

Bedroom footage. Intimate. A little too intimate. Your father again. Naked, whiskey in hand, with a woman who’s not your mother. The woman’s face is obscured, but her unique diamond necklace says more than enough.

Across the room, a woman yanks her necklace off. You roll your eyes when she glares at you.

“I’ve always hated your husband,” your father says in the video, voice slurred. “He’s my best friend, but I’ll kill him if I have to.”

The video cuts out.

You step closer to him, voice lower, almost gentle now. “You always said power was about what you could hide. Guess your grip’s slipping.”

With his entire face now fully colored with rage, your father lunges at you.

You barely register the movement before you hear Andrew’s voice cut through the crowd. “Gun!”

Then everything happens fast. Andrew grabs you hard, pulling you off your feet just as the podium explodes beside your head from a fired shot. Splinters scatter. Screams echo through the ballroom. Somewhere, a chandelier sways violently overhead.

Andrew throws you behind the cover of a table and covers your body with his own. You can feel his heart pounding against your back but his movements are precise, instinctive. You know better than to get in his way now.

Your father’s men are already storming the stage, closing in fast.

“Stay here.” He instructs.

Andrew moves like a storm. He tackles the first guy mid-charge, driving his shoulder into the man’s gut, slamming him into the staircase rail with a crack. Another comes at him with a knife—Andrew ducks the swing, grabs his wrist, twists, and slams his elbow down until the blade clatters to the floor. Then he drives his boot into the guy’s ribs.

You peek from behind the table just in time to see Andrew disarm a man with a gun and pistol-whip him unconscious. Blood spatters across the marble.

Your father steps out from behind the podium, aiming again—and this time, Andrew is faster. He raises his gun, and your father freezes.

Andrew walks toward him, slow and steady. Blood drips from a cut above his eye. His chest rises and falls with each breath, but his hands are steady as ever.

Your father looks up from the barrel pointed at his face and spits on the ground between them. “This is how you’re gonna kill me? You don’t even have the guts to do it yourself?” He’s talking to you.

You emerge from behind the table. “I’m not like you.”

That’s when you hear sirens from outside and the police come rushing in.

“Drop your weapon!” someone yells.

Andrew pauses. Slowly lowers the gun. Lets it fall to the floor.

They arrest your father on the spot, reading out charges you practically wrote yourself—embezzlement, conspiracy, murder. The list goes on and on.

You walk over to Andrew, checking for any serious injuries and finally rest your head on his shoulder. It’s finally over.

“Thank you.” You say to him and he just holds you close.

You step outside after giving a statement to the police, Andrew following closely behind. There’s a few police cars around, red, blue, and white flashing everywhere. And you see an ambulance nearby, and your mother sitting down. She looks small. Fragile. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles pale. Her eyes are glassy, locked on some fixed point in the distance that you can’t see.

You approach her.

“Mom.” Your voice barely rises above a whisper. “It’s over. You’re free. We both are.”

She doesn’t look at you.

“We can still go,” you try again. “We can start over. Just you and me.”

She rises slowly to her feet, her mouth trembling. You think she’s going to cry. Maybe fall into your arms. You think—hope—she’ll say your name like she used to when you were little. When you skinned your knees or had nightmares or couldn’t sleep without her hand in yours.

But instead, she raises a hand and slaps you across the face. It doesn’t hurt, but it leaves something ringing deep in your chest.

“How could you do this?” She whispers. “You’re… you’re not my child.”

You don’t even flinch. Your gaze falls to the ground as she walks away from you. Something breaks in you. And for the first time, you don’t know how to fix it.

Andrew is beside you before you even realize. He doesn’t touch you, but his presence is enough to snap you back to reality. Because you can’t be seen crying right now.

You look at him, tears threatening to fall. “Let’s go, Andrew.”

And without another word, you walk to the car together. A silent ride home.

It doesn’t feel like victory.

In your head, getting back from the gala after executing your entire plan meant celebrations—champagne, dancing, a bottle smashed for fun on the marble floor. Something loud. Something indulgent. But this… this feels more like losing.

Maybe there was never an outcome where you won. Maybe you were too blinded by your own ambition to see that from the start.

The front door clicks shut behind you.

The house is dark, save for the soft glow from the kitchen under-cabinet lights. You don’t bother flipping on anything else. Andrew follows you inside but says nothing. The silence is thick, almost suffocating, but neither of you breaks it.

You disappear into your room and return with the duffel bag, putting it on the table. The zipper’s slightly open, and a few stacks of cash peek out. The blood money. The price of surviving tonight.

You pour yourself a glass of whiskey, downing it one go.

You don’t look at him when you say it. “…You can go now.”

It comes out flatter than you mean for it to. Not cold, just… empty. Tired. Like there’s nothing left to give.

Andrew doesn’t move. He watches you quietly. Watches the way your shoulders have lost their proud angle. The way your hands stay curled into fists. The way your eyes shine, too bright, too wet, but the tears haven’t fallen yet.

He shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your jaw clenches. “You’ve done your job,” you murmur. “You protected me. You survived. You got paid.”

“I didn’t stay for the money.”

You finally lift your eyes, catching his reflection in the window. You’re not sure what you’re looking for. Maybe doubt. Maybe a lie you can call out. But it’s not there.

Andrew steps closer, slow, careful.

He doesn’t say anything else.

Your throat tightens. “I hired you to protect me. You don’t have to do all this.”

“I know.” His voice softens. “But I want to.”

His hands find your waist, turning you so you can hide in his chest and cry.

“So let me,” he whispers. “Okay?”

Your lips tremble and you finally cry into his chest, tears ruining his shirt, your hands clutching him. You let him hold you while your whole world sinks to the floor. Let yourself cry until your body’s shaking and you feel like passing out from sadness, and he holds you nevertheless.

[myclovernew]

hate you, love you [lee myung-gi]

⟢ pairing: myung-gi x fem!reader (basically replacing junhee as player 222 sorry jo yuri my queen)

⟢ fluff but a little steamy near the end...

⟢ word count: 4k

⟢ a/n: hai everyone this is my first ever fic here on tumblr and i haven't written anything in over four years so i apologize if the writing is terrible LOL squid game and myung-gi brainrot had me down BAD

the annoyingly cheerful music blaring at what felt like 7 in the morning woke me up. the last thing i could remember before falling asleep was getting into a white semi-van driven by a man in a red hoodie whose face i couldn't quite make out. so where in the hell was i now?

blinking a couple times before rubbing one eye, i slowly slid up to the point where i could feel the cold, metal backboard of the bed i was in through the thin polyester jacket i had on. that's when i realized i was in a completely different outfit than the one i had on the night before. looking around, i noticed others slowly waking, everyone in the same outfit as mine with only a slight difference. we were all numbered, and my number was 222.

a guy who was in the bed directly in front of mine started waking up at that moment, mumbling something incoherent to himself and then letting out a huge sigh. the number on the back of his jacket was 333. only when he turned slightly to his left is when i realized; i'd recognize that side profile anywhere.

"lee my-" before i could even finish calling out his name, the speaker sent out feedback indicating the start of something unknown. everyone was awake at this point, walking towards the center pool of people.

that's when an alarm went off, and an automatic door let in a group of eerily mysterious people dressed in pink jumpsuits, their faces covered by black masks with either squares or circles painted on them in white.

"i would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you," one of the square guards started. i was watching from the foot of my bed, trying to scan the crowd to navigate that piece of shit. i can't believe that asshole is here too, i thought to myself while half paying attention to whatever the square guy is saying.

"everyone here will participate in six different games over six days." games? what are we in, grade school? "those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

now that's what i wanted to hear. when that salesman looking guy approached me a week ago, he had me play a game of ddakji, which i was a natural at. so of course i beat him on the first round. he gave me 100,000 won as a prize and a rustic brown business card with only a number on the back. i debated on calling the ominous number for days on end, but the final straw was having all 58 of my calls to that asshole myung-gi ignored. he had "borrowed" 500,000 won from me to kickstart a stock he was investing in and just never paid me back. a couple of weeks after was when i found out his dumbass had led a bunch of his stream viewers to invest in the wrong coin, causing a lot of not-so-happy, middle aged men struggling to make ends meet to go after him.

anyway, i was determined to make him pay.

a couple of people from the huge crowd started yelling out remarks, demanding for answers.

"what happened to my clothes?" "did you kidnap us?" "why are you wearing a mask?" "show your face!"

then one person started asking for their phone, insisting that they had to check the crypto market.

"player 333, lee myung-gi," the square guard had declared. my head immediately snapped up, eyes glued to the screen that had just turned on. a video of myung-gi started playing and it was him being embarrassingly bad at the same game of ddakji i had played with the salesman. i couldn't help but laugh to myself as hundreds of people watched him get slapped, how humiliating.

"current debt levels, 1.8 billion won." oh you had to be joking.

that made the measly 500,000 won he owed me look like nothing. no wonder he was ignoring my calls, the loser had absolutely no means of paying me back, let alone getting rid of his own debt.

i lost sight of myung-gi when the guards had us line up and sign what looked like a consent form to play the games. it seemed a bit excessive, but i guess they had to keep it all professional. we then had our photos taken before being led up multiple flights of pink, maze-like stairs.

all at once, three giant doors opened up to a large, sand-filled area. the guards instructed us to go in and stand behind the red line drawn on the ground. at the very end of the field was an enlarged cartoonish doll. what could we possibly be doing here?

i looked around for myung-gi again, hoping to catch him by surprise when he saw my face afters months of ignoring me.

"the first game is red light, green light," a woman's voice iterated through the speakers. red light, green light? i hadn't played that since i was a kid. "cross the finish line before the five minutes are up. if you do, you pass."

this honestly felt like a joke. why were we getting paid to play children's games?

"everyone!" i squinted my eyes to see a middle-aged man, his number being 456, run to the middle of the crowd. "everyone, pay attention!" he was waving his arms like a mad man to try and get everyone to listen to him.

"this is not just a game!" what?

"if you lose, you die!" there's no way that was true. did he mean get eliminated? they wouldn't really kill us, would they? i looked around to watch everyone else's expressions. some started visibly shaking, others shaking their heads in pure disbelief.

at that moment, the robotic doll turned around and put her hand up to her eyes.

"let the game begin."

the first "red light, green light" was said and everyone began to move. as soon as the doll stopped to look around, i stayed as still as possible. the man from earlier was still yelling at everyone to freeze, and something in me started to believe in what he was saying about the game. as i froze in place, i scanned the people around me. 239, 009, 176, 028, and 333. found you.

the next "red light, green light" played and i ran towards myung-gi. he might've been a crypto bro who practically lived at the pc cafe, but damn he was a fast runner. the next couple of "red light, green light's" went off and i was just about a feet behind him now. that's when a loud "bang" echoed throughout the hall. a gun shot. more gun shots sounded, followed by ear-piercing screams. stay still, stay still, i thought to myself.

then it went silent. everyone who was still alive was frozen in their places, not even moving when the doll said "red light, green light." my eyes focused on myung-gi. he was breathing so heavily i could hear him.

"red light, green light." the man from earlier, player 456, was the only one to move as he ran past all of us. "red light, green light." he moved a bit further, with his back facing us.

"the doll detects motion," he yelled out as he had one hand behind his back, moving it around to prove what he was saying was true. so as long as the doll couldn't physically see me moving, i would be fine.

"we're running out of time. we have to move!" shit.

"red light, green light." everyone moved then, finding someone bigger than them to hide behind. i was still behind myung-gi, who i admit was shorter than most guys here, but then again so was i. we were almost by the finish line, with a little less than a minute left.

"red light, green light." we moved again in a synced matter. but just as the doll was about to turn her head, myung-gi tripped on someone's foot. he's going to die, i thought. without thinking, i put out my arm, and grasped onto the back of his jacket.

"don't. move," i whisper-yelled, my teeth gritting against each other. myung-gi didn't make a sound.

"red light, green light," i let go and he regained his balance, the two of us crossing the finish line. i bent over, my hands resting on my knees as i tried to breathe normally again.

"y/n?" myung-gi questioned. i looked back up to him, scanning his face. as much as he was confused as to why i was here, he also looked relieved to see a familiar face.

"aren't you going to thank me?" i retorted. i did just save his life.

"oh, yeah," he said, his hand reaching the back of his head, "thank you. seriously." i sighed and gave him a slight nod. frankly, i was too exhausted and too desperate to get out of this place to even demand for my money back from him right now. he opened his mouth again, like he had something to say, but got quickly distracted by the ceiling of the arena slowly closing in. the game was over.

the guards had us all walk back into the room we woke up in. it was eerily quiet; people were scared for their lives. i just wanted to go home. i didn't even care about the money anymore. why would any of this even matter if i didn't make it out alive?

everyone made it back inside as the guards followed behind the last couple of players, stopping in front of the door they first walked out of. some of the players ran down to the middle of the floor and started kneeling to the ground, rubbing their hands profusely, begging to be saved.

"we are not trying to hurt you. we are only presenting you with an opportunity," the square guard declared.

"clause three of the consent form!" i turned around to look at the player that yelled this out. it was the same man that was helping everyone in the last game, player 456. "the games may be terminated upon a majority vote. correct?"

oh thank god. we actually had a chance at getting out of here before they had us all killed.

that's when the room went dim, and a golden piggy bank was slowly let down from the ceiling. even i was mesmerized, my eyes glued to the stacks of money falling into it. the guard then explained there was a sum of 9.1 billion won in the bank, and if we all wanted to leave now, it would be split by all current players. murmurs erupted, some people wanting to stay and play more games for the sum to rise, while others still wanted to leave.

"now, let's begin the vote."

the guards started calling out player numbers, starting from the last number, 456. the first vote was an X. each player received a tag with either an X or an O, indicating what they had voted for.

"player 333." i watched as myung-gi emerged from the crowd, and walked towards the buttons. i swear to god.

the sound of the button went off and so did a flash of blue light. he picked O.

he barely even made it through the first game without my help, yet he wanted to stay and continue playing? i scoffed to myself, he really did only care about himself.

"player 222." it was finally my turn. i walked up to the voting stand, confident in my answer. i hit the X button and received my tag. walking back to the group of other X voters, i looked over at myung-gi standing on the opposite side who was also watching me from afar. i narrowed my eyes and made a face full of utter disgust and disappointment, then looked away. in that moment, i regretted saving him at all.

the voting ended shortly, the O's winning by one point. we really had to stay and play another game. it was absurd to me, all these people being blinded by the money after seeing firsthand how one wrong move could literally get you killed.

food service happened after the voting and each person was given a meal. i walked back to my bed and opened up the metal box to find a layer of white rice, topped with an egg, sausage, and picked radish. it honestly wasn't bad at all. i was eating peacefully before myung-gi walked up, holding out his box of food and resting his arms on the foot of my bed.

"you want the radish? i know it's your favorite," i looked up at him, mid-chew of a mouthful of rice and egg. the radish was my favorite, but i was surprised he remembered that at all. without saying anything back, because i was still mad at him, i took the pieces of radish out of his box and put it in mine.

"are you mad at me?" i looked up from my food again. he could not be serious. we were making eye contact now, but the purple-ish, blue ring forming around his left eye caught my attention.

"what happened to your eye?" i asked, ignoring his initial question. i don't even know why i brought it up, i could care less about this asshole.

"don't worry about it." say less! i went back to eating my food, myung-gi still hovering, waiting for the answer to his question. i gave him a "what?" look with a shoulder shrug and seems like he took that for an answer because he turned back around and started walking away without saying another word.

i looked toward his direction ever so often after finishing up my meal. he really was a loser and didn't have anyone else here, not even someone to team up with. he sat straight up on his bed, poking at the rice with his spoon. a couple of hours passed by, and it was soon bedtime. the lights in the room dimmed and everyone was in their beds by this point. i pulled the thin cotton blanket over me and readjusted my pillow so it was leaning a bit against the bed board. i lay there on my back with my hands intertwined across my chest, closed my eyes and desperately tried to fall asleep. but it was one of those nights where your eyes were sleeping, and your body wasn't. hours passed and i was still awake. i tried turning to my side, readjusting my pillow again, but nothing worked. at a loss, i just kept my eyes open and stared at the bottom of the bed above mine.

the older gentleman to my right was snoring like there was no tomorrow, and a woman in her mid-20s to my left kept turning around every 5 minutes. even if i did manage to fall asleep, i probably would've woken up because of one or the other. that's when i heard someone nearby talking, or it was more of a loud whisper. i sat right up on my bed to figure out where the noise was coming from, only to see the source was right in front of me.

myung-gi was talking... but to himself? i slowly peeled the blanket off of myself and threw both legs over the edge of my bed. i stepped on my shoes without properly putting them on, and walked towards his bed, making sure not to make anymore noise that could wake up anyone else. i watched as myung-gi continued to blurt out sentences and random words in his sleep, but i couldn't quite make out what he was actually saying. his eyes were fully closed, but his eyebrows were at a slight furrow with sweat beading on his forehead. he looked like he was burning up. without even realizing, i reached my hand out to his forehead, hovering just an inch above it. i didn't even need to make contact with his skin to know he had a fever. i retracted my hand and bent down to my feet to fully put on my shoes before walking over to the door that led to the restroom. a guard was standing by the door and it took me a good 10 minutes for him to let me use the restroom, finally convincing him by saying it was that time of the month.

i grabbed a long piece of a paper towel, folded it, and let it run under the cold water for a bit. i walked back out the door without the guard noticing the paper towel in my hand and made it back to myung-gi, who was thankfully still asleep. i reached out my arms to place the towel on his forehead, but before i could take them back, myung-gi's hand wrapped around my left wrist. his eyes were slightly open, but i couldn't quite tell if he was actually awake or not.

"stay," he croaked, his voice coming out raspy. i stood there unsure what to do and his grasp still on my arm. "please."

well it's not like i could fall asleep anyway. i used my feet to take off my shoes and climbed into his bed, using his arm as a pillow. i cautiously turned to slightly face him, but myung-gi looked like he had already fallen back asleep. i turned back around, closed my eyes, and without even knowing it, fell asleep right then.

i felt warmer than usual as i started waking up to the same music that played when i first got here. eyes still closed, i turned over to my right side and felt even warmer. it was a nice feeling and i wanted to stay here just for a couple more minutes.

the chatter from the people around me woke me up. vision still blurry, i blinked profusely to make sure i wasn't hallucinating. i was looking straight at myung-gi, our faces almost an inch apart. his eyes were still closed and i could even hear his heartbeat; we were that close. we were also under the same blanket now, not knowing how i even got to that position considering he was hogging the thing when i first laid down.

i didn't know what to do. i didn't want to move now because then he'd wake up and i'd have to confront him. i just kept looking at his face, focusing on the bruise from yesterday, which was now a little darker in color. he didn't look like he still had a fever, but something in me wanted to check anyway. i freed my left arm from my own grip and slowly raised it up to his forehead, but before i could even check, myung-gi opened his eyes. i quickly dropped my hand and closed my eyes, pretending like i had never even woken.

fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit.

then i heard him starting to laugh, myung-gi was laughing at me. i peeked one eye open and he started to laugh even harder. now i felt myself heating up. guards please take me now, just take me now. as i was about to say something, myung-gi used the blanket to cover me entirely and pulled me in even closer.

"what the fuck are you do-" i tried to get out, but my voice got muffled by the blanket as he brought me in even closer. oh my god i thought i was going to explode.

"you hiding something under that blanket?" a voice questioned from outside. i took that as my queue to stay as silent as possible.

"no, why would i be?" myung-gi answered back.

"don't talk back to me, fucker. unless you want a matching black eye." oh, so this must've been the person that beat the shit out of myung-gi yesterday. myung-gi didn't respond this time, but i could feel his arm around me loosen as the footsteps got further away. i reached for the rim of the blanket and pulled it back down enough for my face to show. that was a bad idea, because i was just about touching his chest now.

"if you wanted a hug you could've just said so," he said sarcastically, a one-sided grin forming on his face as he looked down at me.

"in your dreams," i said, all flustered. i quickly pushed myself away before he could pull anything else and practically stumbled out of the bed. i didn't even look back as i put on my shoes and walked out to regroup with the rest of the players.

they had us get into groups of five for the second game, making it a game based on team effort. i teamed up with four older guys, one of them being player 456 from earlier. i was glad i didn't end up with myung-gi this game, because honestly i didn't know how to face him after last night. but i still found myself glancing over at him throughout the game to make sure he was still alive.

we both got through the second game, but it was still silence between us. i didn't go up to him and neither did he try and talk to me. i couldn't fall asleep that night either, but i didn't dare get out of my bed.

the next game came around quickly. i stuck with the group i had made during the previous game, and we quickly got the hang of this new game. we were placed onto a merry-go-round like platform and spun around until the music stopped. the speaker would blurt out a number and the same amount of people would need to run and find a room to stay in. if the room had more or less people than the number that was said, you would die. as a group of 5, we got through teams of 3 and 6 pretty easily. but then the speaker called out 2. i looked up as everyone paired up, and i had no one. my mind went fuzzy, everyone was running around screaming and looking for their friends. i felt like i was going to faint until i felt someone grab onto my wrist and started to drag me off the platform. i picked up on the pace and ran like my life depended on it, because it did.

we ran into a purple room and shut the door. my back was pinned to the wall as myung-gi still held onto my wrist. we were both trying to catch our breath, but then he leaned in closer. my body froze and we were only inches apart again. i was looking into his eyes, then panned down to his lips, just to trace back up to his eyes again. the door clicked shut and we were stuck in here. together.

in that moment, i felt his lips touch mine. i closed my eyes as i let myself melt into the kiss. he let go of my wrist and positioned one hand at my waist while the other creeped up the back of my neck. i could feel my shirt fleeting as his fingertips made contact with my skin ever so lightly. my hands made their way up his chest as i gripped onto his shirt and pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss and eliciting a whiny moan from him. i wanted this to go on forever.

the door made another clicking sound, letting us know we could go back out. i loosened my grip before myung-gi could get his hand up any higher under my shirt.

"we have to," i let out, mid-kiss, "go." we both came to a stop then, realizing we had to go back out onto the platform. i quickly straightened up my shirt with my hands and reached up to myung-gi's hair which was looking all disheveled now to smooth it back out into his natural middle part.

"we're not done yet," he whispered into my ear as we walked out the door, parting ways once again.

that's when i knew i'd be getting a good night's sleep tonight.

[keferon]

Sorry to send another ask lol- but i previously mentioned that sometimes Orca can get bullied in captivity. And I was wondering if humans ever tried socializing Jazz with other mer? Did it go well? Did it go badly- did someone end up traumatized???

...........ALRIGHT HEAR ME OUT

Remember the post where I talked about different species of merfolks and how some of them are sapient and fully intelligent while thw others are kind of just aquatic monkeys?

Seriously check it if you haven't seen pls it's important

So humans don't know about merfolks being sapient because 99,9% of the time they would run into wild-wild mers who are eeehhhhh smart but like. A parrot level of smart.

Which automatically implies that even if Jazz had tankmates they likely were stupid as fuck. And probably sometimes aggressive due to Jazz being different from them. But he tolerated and appreciated them anyway because having them was better than being completely alone right.

SO LIKE. AHAHA WHAT IF. IMAGINE

What if when aquarium workers bring Prowl in Jazz at first automatically assumes Prowl would be the same as the previous tankmates? But he's excited anyway because he's so. Fucking. BORED. floating alone in his tiny pool

And then he sees Prowl and like. He's different from all the previous mers Jazz had seen. He doesn't look "sorta-kinda-like-Jazz" he is exactly like him!

[kurogane2512]

getting eaten out by Cantarella with lots of kissing like hardcore levels of kissing maybe scissoring so that she can basically shove her tongue down our throats 😈

Real. So real. I need her to lick me all ov— I mean what😇

18+ CONTENT

Wuthering Waves || Cantarella x fem!reader || Smut (mainly scissoring cause I just needed it ugh)

Accepting a simple tea invitation from the Matriarch of the Fisalia family was not how you expected to turn out the way it did. Yet, here you were pinned by the Matriarch herself on the sofa in her study. Lips moved heatedly, the Matriarch's body pressing you down and holding you in place. Your arms held above your head by her wrists, binding them in place.

"Mmh.... mm.... aah....!~" you moaned against her lips, trying to seek a moment of relief but were denied as Cantarella only moved deeper, licking your lips as if to slip her tongue in. You were about to give in and fall into her elixir, but just then she released the kiss and leaned back. Her engraved tongue playfully licked your lower lip as she moved away, relishing your taste.

"Hmm.... delicious. You always taste so sweet, my dear~" Cantarella cooed while licking her lips, her thumb caressing your lipstick-stained mouth. She then straddled your lap, holding up the hem of her dress while she put your right leg over her left and vice-versa. Your clothed cores automatically rubbed once she sat down on your left leg, earning a muffled moan from you.

"I-I thought we were going to chat over tea, Cantarella...." you said with a nervous smile, trying to free your hands from her grip but she didn't let you.

Cantarella chuckled before leaning down near your face, gently grasping your jaw with her free hand and tracing her fingers along it.

"I never said what kind of 'chat' we would have, did I?~"

You blushed at her words, your breathing becoming uneven as arousal grew in you from the situation. You gazed at her body above you, eyes trailing to her plentiful breasts as they hung before falling further down to where your cores met. She smirked looking at your trailing eyes, playfully grinding over your core and making you hiss.

"Oh my, seems your body is growing impatient, dear~"

"As if you are any better, I can feel your wetness...."

She grinned then began to plant kisses on your neck, lapping up with her tongue and biting on some spots. You let out a low moan feeling her lips and tongue on you, the way she so hungrily licked all over as if you were a delicacy. She kept grinding the same way, teasing you and getting you worked up.

"Aaah.... what happened? D-Did you miss me so much?~" you tried to tease.

Her eyes hooded then her free hand began unbuttoning your shirt, slowly exposing your body.

"Perhaps..... you were away for quite some time, indeed.... And you didn't even bother to come and meet me once you were back~"

You felt guilty, your expression dropping.

"Sorry, I was really busy. I was going to come soon, then you sent me that invitation anyways....."

She smiled and kissed your cheek, her hand caressing your bare stomach and teasing to go lower.

"I expect you to make it up to me~"

How could you deny her?

Soon, you found yourself entangled with her. Your clothes discarded, pooling on the floor together, your bodies melted into one as she straddled you the same way as before but fully exposed now, only keeping her stockings on. You sighed as her wet core rubbed yours, a pleasurable sting going up your body, your hips instinctively bucking to meet hers. She smirked at your reaction, grounding herself deeper into you, your clits now grinding as she started moving, slowly and rhythmically.

Her one hand still somehow ended up pinning yours above your head as before, an action you failed to resist even when you readjusted to take off your clothes. It wasn't force, not exactly, but a firm, almost possessive hold that left you deliciously vulnerable and entirely at her mercy. Her other hand... her other hand was free to roam. It traced the line of your jaw, slid down your neck, lingered on your collarbone before drifting lower, warm fingers spreading across your chest, teasing circles around your nipples until they puckered into hard points under her touch.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, mingling with your increasingly ragged breaths. The slow grind of her hips intensified the friction, the heat between your bodies building with every controlled sway. She watched you, her eyes heavy-lidded with a knowing, sultry look on her face. You wanted to move faster, to bridge the distance, to rush towards the inevitable release, but she held the reins. She smirked again looking at you, giving a single harsh thrust forward, making you cry out in surprise.

"C-Cantarella—!~"

She chuckled, finally beginning to move faster, a deliberate, powerful rhythm that quickly stole your breath all over again. The sharp, pleasurable friction intensified with each thrust she drove into you, her hips swinging with a practiced grace that spoke of inherent confidence and control. Your back arched, instinctively seeking closer contact, desperate for the pressure of her body against yours. She rocked her hips into you, your folds gliding over each other's,

"Mmh.... you look adorable, my darling.... aaah~" she purred, learning down to cup your face, "Open up for me~". You parted your lips, knowing what she wanted. She smiled and stuck out her tongue before diving in to kiss you deeply. You immediately whined into her, feeling her hips grind even deeper as she clung to you, her tongue moving fervently inside your mouth, exploring it and enveloping your senses.

She hummed against your lips, a low vibration that sent shivers down your spine, her hips rolling with renewed urgency. You felt her engraved tongue consume you, attempting to somehow go even deeper, seeking your taste. Your eyes rolled back at the sensations, hips bucking with her, slowly losing yourself into her. She pulled back slightly, just enough to catch her breath, her eyes still heavy, dark pools fixed on yours, her eye makeup shimmering with the sweat on her face.

"Stay still.... just like this...." she whispered.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, a sweet, unbearable ache building with every driven motion. Your own breath came in ragged gasps now, your chest heaving, feeling the way your slipper folds rolled over, arousal pooling down. She leaned in then, not for another kiss on the mouth, but to trail a line of scorching hot kisses down your jaw, along your neck, until her lips found the sensitive spot where your pulse hammered frantically against your skin.

You cried out softly, bucking your hips harder to meet her, desperate for the friction that would push you over the edge. She pressed a soft kiss onto your pounding pulse point, a possessive gesture that claimed you completely in that moment. Her hips, driven by a knowing instinct, began to move with a fierce, relentless speed. The controlled, rhythmic grind transformed into powerful, surging thrusts that made your body tremble uncontrollably.

"Aaah! I'm close.... please.... mmh!~" you moaned out, edging closer to release.

Cantarella watched you, her expression one of intense focus, a predatory grace in her movements. She saw the signs of your impending release, the widening of your eyes, the tremor in your limbs and how you cried out, begging. With a final, deep thrust that buried itself completely into you, she pulled you closer by your leg and held herself there for a suspended moment, the exquisite pressure almost unbearable.

"Mmh, that's it.... aaah.... my dear.... cum with me~" she encouraged, grinding on you with shallow, fast motions, your clits rubbing together.

And then, it broke. A gasp ripped from your lungs, followed by a series of trembling shudders that seized your body. Your hips spasmed upward, meeting her deep, grounding weight as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Your breath came out in a long, drawn-out moan as you surrendered to the exquisite release, your body melting into the sofa beneath you.

Cantarella let out a soft, satisfied sigh, her body still pressed flush against yours, the damp heat mingling between you. She slowly resumed a gentle, rocking motion, allowing your body to settle, your muscles to relax from their intense clenching. She lowered her head, pressing her forehead against yours and meeting your lips in a slow and languid kiss, her tongue sensually licking them.

"Such a good girl for me~" she cooed in a sultry tone, moving to kiss your cheek now, and holding you close.

[hitomisuzuya]

Omg omg requests are open! I love your writing so so much, it always makes me happy reading your fics 🔥

I would like to request some more fatui!scara but maybe with him using his electro powers to make reader feel good.. if you know what I mean heh. Bonus points if there’s some bondage or some chocking 👀

fatui!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. delusion play. fingering. degradation. squirting. bondage. choking. dom!scara

bonus points i am more than happy to score😳

"know your place, and keep your legs spread," scaramouche commanded in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine, and straight to your clit. he smirked seeing you do as you were told, spreading them a little wider.

he didn't think his cock could throb any harder seeing your display of submission, your cheeks flushed with adoration for him. with your wrists bound together and tied above your head to the headboard, your creamy cunt on display to him, you are working of delicate art for him to break.

the utter control you surrender to him, relying on him for every modicum of pleasure made him dizzy with love. it was a jarring feeling for him.

his fingertips brushed featherlight along your jaw. your cheek automatically turned to nuzzle into his palm. he sighed shakily seeing your display of submissive affection, moving his hand down down to your chest.

you let out a soft moan feeling the subtle hum of electro on your nipple as he teased it with his elegant fingers. he pinched your nipple, stimulating it to harden quickly between the pads of his fingers. his cock leaked precum hearing your moans rise in octave, your pussy starting to clench around nothing.

"it's amusing to hear how good it makes you feel when i toy with you," he turned his attention to your neglected nipple, which was already hardening in response to him using his electro.

scaramouche knows your body so well. he knows exactly how to use his electro to make you writhe and twitch in pleasure. make you beg in a way that would make him cum untouched.

the hum increased as he stroked your other nipple to harden, slowly stimulating it until you let out a soft whine. he groans seeing the look in your eyes, the desperation for him to work your pussy over pooling deep in them.

such submission, he felt should be rewarded. your breath hitched in your throat with anticipation as he moved his hand down between your legs. your hips jerked up to grind on his fingers as they dipped between your now drooling folds.

he concentrated electro into the tips of his fingers, tracing slow stripes up and down your pussy, licking his lips at how fast you soaked his fingers. "such needy obedience," he marvels, pressing slow circles on your throbbing clit, "what a slut."

your lewd moan as pushed his finger inside of you sounded so fucking divine to him. electro hummed along your sensitive walls, zapping into your sweet spot. your walls clenched tighter than they had when he was teasing your nipples.

he launched a slow assault on your pussy, increasing and decreasing the amplification of his electro as he flicked and curled his finger into your sweet spot. your body was already twitching from the aching pleasure of your orgasm tightening in your core. "a second finger," you moan, shamelessly rubbing your clit on his fingers.

"a second finger what, slut," he concentrated electro into the pads of his fingers as he tapped your clit. your legs shook as your back aches off the bed.

"please," you whimper, your eyes watering in desperation as your clit throbbed harder.

"good girl," scaramouche praises, rewarding you by stretching you open with two fingers. electro zapped against your sensitive walls before he hooked them generously into your sweet spot. you let out a gasp of pleasure, twitching as your orgasm coiled tighter.

he relentlessly teased your sweet spot with different levels of electro. your fingernails dug into the palms of your bound hands as pleasure jolted through you. he relishes in the embarrassed flush dusting your cheeks. he chuckled.

"i see you just now heard yourself, and what a slut you sound like," he increased the electro humming on his fingers, bullying your sweet spot, "listen to your pussy sucking my fingers in," he laughed shakily as his cock pulsed harder. "you can't get enough of me."

"a third finger, please. please, scara, please," you plead. you could taste your orgasm it was so close, the building intensity nearly overwhelming you. your walls clutched tighter still hearing his degradation.

your sopping pussy sucked a third finger inside of you. your back arches off the bed, a moan of bliss that sounded like you'd just gotten something you'd deprived of for so long tore from your throat. "that's right, beg like the pretty slut you are," he increased his electro and pace of his fingers.

his hand suddenly snapped to your throat, electro zapping across your windpipe for a moment to remind you of your place. the embarrassed blush on your cheeks darkens with further adoration for him. he smirked as his fingers gradually tightened around your throat.

pleasure burst through you in overwhelming waves as you tilted your head back a little for him to squeeze more. giving him such control, trusting him so completely made him dizzier with love.

you struggle to moan for him as he continued to bully your sweet spot with his electro. you writhed as the knot of your orgasm snapped apart suddenly. scaramouche's fingers tightened on your throat at just the right moment, increasing the intensity of your orgasm as you squirted on his fingers.

"that's it, just take it like a good girl," scaramouche groaned with approval, taking his hand off your throat to concentrate electro on your swollen clit.

[running-with-kn1ves]

fem scientist who created a frankstein!reader to have the cherish and love them but reader doesn’t have a care for that wants to explore the real world 🌎

Or

reader with self esteem issues orders a fem!robot off a shady website because reader can’t rizz a real girl

(idk plot wise but can it end in smut? I just want to be loved and caressed by a pretty lady 🥲)

A/N: So real anon... Feeling off about this one, was going to scrap it but I spent too much time trying to FIX it.

CW: Sex Robot GF, NSFW, loser reader

_________________________

There she stood, like the life size version of a barbie doll in a box. Only, she was far more bubble-wrapped and covered in styrofoam packing peanuts than a plastic barbie would be. Ripping open the protective layers keeping her pristine were harder than setting the android’s system up itself, its interface automatically connecting to your Wi-Fi and booting up with the click of a button. 

This wasn’t a moment of glory or ravenous hunger-- there was a level of gut-turning excitement in the back of your mind, true, but it was clouded by the insecurity of your purchase. A sex doll? What would your friends think of you when they came over? How the hell would you hide a human-sized being in your tiny bedroom?

No. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be concerned with that-- it was too late. You already paid a year-long warranty and they were keen on no returns. Your neighbors probably thought it was a new fridge, maybe a pre-built bookcase from how big the box was; little did they know the naked woman in your apartment was a top-shelf, silicone-covered, glistening creature of man-made horror that sounded, acted, and mostly looked like a real human. If only her eyes were a little less… uncanny. That might make you feel a bit better about having her lean over you in bed, trying to drag you back in each time you attempted to get up for work-- a lovely, and realistic programming factor that made you feel wanted, desired. 

She could even work in the shower, waterproof and fireproof as shown in a few kitchen mishaps. Despite how many accidents and new challenges you faced with the android, she remained in prime condition, never losing face or acting out of sorts; she was the only constant in your life. And best of all, she performed exactly how you hoped she would. Most of the time.

The smooth flesh of her fingers heated as they lazily rubbed circles over your underwear, slender and long and yearning. Your eyes glazed over while staring at the dim TV, focusing on the hand against your crotch. It didn’t feel right, how desperately she seemed to want you; she wasn’t real, of course not. So why did it feel so good when she kissed your neck with a cute nuzzle and pulled at the zipper of your jeans, her body heating as if there were real veins, and blood pumping beneath her shell? 

“I want to please you..” She’d murmur, awfully humanlike. “You’ve been aroused all day; waiting for me to recharge?” The grin spreading across her face could be heard through each well pronounced syllable; like usual, her intuition was scarily accurate. “Mm, there’s wetness collecting beneath my hands, your heart is beating faster than usual…”

You shift with your legs wider, letting her have easy access to the heat pooling below your stomach. Her fingers had a magic touch you previously only fantasized about-- the real warmth of a woman, of someone who would reciprocate your seemingly loser-like desperation. 

You nodded to her direct question, watching dark eyes scan you for tell-tale signs; the rich brown hid how she planned her next set of moves inside intelligent hardware. She noticed the way your palms grew sweaty, biting your lips as you kept thinking of hers, your eyes half-lidded as she kept swirling her finger over that one spot…

“How do you want it,” She asked, unconsciously sultry with a cautious hand pressing deeper against you. “Hard, soft… You seem particularly worked up today.”

“Please just…” You sounded like a bumbling virgin compared to her lustful sultriness, fumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it, just give me this.”

Her disbelieving look left you feeling sheepish, but still she pulled her hair back into a sloppy ponytail, keeping your gaze with scrutiny as the hair tie hung from her mouth. She wasn’t going to give up that easily.

 “That’s what I’m here for,” She drifts your damp underwear to your knees, leaving a trail of slick as it peeled from you. “To help, and to listen. So, go on.” 

‘Listening’ was a choice word to use, as she slid down in between your bare legs, licking her lips.

Her mouth hovers over your sex, hot breath fanning as she looks up at you, her pupils unnaturally large. You wait for her to begin, but she keeps herself there-- watching. Was she really going to make you talk about your crappy remote job?

“I said go on.” 

You felt her dip down tongue-first before you realized what she was doing-- thrusting the wet, mechanical muscle inside as it curled up, caressing the sides of your walls with a gentle harshness. 

The involuntary gasp you released left you gripping onto the couch, watching as a flush filled her cheeks. Pretty, carefully placed lashes batted at you as she sunk deeper against your thighs. 

“It was just-- IT bullshit,” You let out, watching as she pulls at your hips to force you farther onto her mouth, the sensation quickly becoming overwhelming. The lust buzzes in your mind, fogging it as you allow your eyes to unfocus. “You know, the usual-- people who can’t-- can’t do their jobs!” 

You feel for her hair for support, grabbing below the android’s ponytail as her hair fanned over your wrist, tickling your skin as her tongue grew hot and fast, impossibly so. How were you ever going to find a real woman who could compare? She was equipped with the tools that could make you come in under a minute; barely had she touched you, and you were starting to feel the build of a deep burn that would soon rise to a shuddering, gripping climax. 

Her open-mouthed hum of approval vibrated against you, her mouth moist and warm as it sucked from below. 

With a slick pop, she pulled away from your sex and licked her top lip, her eyes fierce and almost fearful in their intensity. 

“You’re right, it was bullshit,” Her pearly, off-white teeth shining to perfection, giving you a smile that was just as lustful as it was devious. She was made for this, to make you ache when she wasn’t touching you. “But it doesn’t matter now; now, is your time to de-stress.”

She climbs with precision onto your lap, a hand pushing your chest down to force you tight against the couch. You almost looked pitiful, drunken with lust and craning your neck so you could have a taste of her berry pink lips. 

“Your expression looks desperate, wanting; from what I can tell, you’re going to come soon.” She hovers over your parted mouth, witnessing the chapped and bitten lips from a dehydrated all-nighter and poor self care; nothing got past her high grade processors, no matter how hard you tried to hide your flaws, or your yearning. “You’ll have to take better care of yourself when I’m not around, otherwise… I don’t know how I can let you come in good conscience.”

The frustration from her edging, her droning, the press of her knee between your legs-- You had yet to figure out how to reprogram her cleverness, her knack for a soft form of mental sadism.

“Okay, okay,” It’s hard not to arch up against her as she finds the shell of your ear, flicking her tongue against it-- enticing you to submit. “I…promise. I’ll eat like-- a salad or something, tonight…”

Her fingers sweetly brush hair away from your eyes, watching as you practically drool for them-- she’s not easy to get past-- and breaking a promise like this, would leave you to be more destitute than if you actually just started taking care of yourself. 

“That’s what I like to hear.”

The android falls to your mouth, letting your tongue find hers as you muffle a moan against her, her touch mimicking a gentle kind of intimacy. It felt unbelievably comforting, warmth spreading in your chest and your belly; almost as good as if she were made of real flesh and bone. 

For a moment, you could forget the mess of your apartment, the missed calls sitting on your phone, the credits rolling on the television. It was her hand cupping your most sensitive aspect, driving you near to an orgasm that would leave you limp and shaking. As sad as it might be, this was the best part of your day. No more crappy phone calls or endless doom scrolling, just her, and you. Her hand down south, grinding against your leg as you lean into her touch.

Your human body however was no match for her stamina-- not to mention, your lack of doing anything but rotting in your apartment  has left you breathless just trying to thrust into her hand. 

Breaking the kiss she grins at your predictability, your rising heart rate. 

“Don’t go soft on me now, little human; keep going, love.”

Those sweet words could have you on your knees in a second, and they did wonders for your failing breaths. 

“Don’t stop,” You pitifully command. Your useless hands once resting on her hips fell into the dip of her loose shirt, where she lacked any bra to keep her uncannily perfect, symmetrical breasts in prime access. If you had the strength to move her iron body any closer, you’d shove your face against them to keep the world out. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” She whispers in your ear as you finally find the end you’ve been waiting for; letting her draw you to the crash of your orgasm, you find your finale. She lets you grip and cling like a desperate lover, the android holding you tight against her skin as her fingers move at an inhuman speed, letting lewd sounds fill the living room. 

You give yourself the freedom to scream against her, letting the pent up desire and need release from you as a shivering detox. The exhaustion sets in almost immediately, the sensation of her immovable grip on you leaving a painful sting as she rubs out the lasting spikes of your orgasm.

You try to find solace in the sound of her beating chest matching in rhythm with your own. The credits of your unwatched movie are still rolling, and you realize the last few minutes were just that-- minutes. It felt like an eternity being in the grip of arousal; a part of you wishes you were still in it, being rubbed slowly, just to keep her feeling you up.

“I love you.” She murmurs, slightly winded and drowsy, as if it were you speaking; for a moment you don’t think you’ve heard her right. But again, she whispers it into your other ear, squeezing around you. You go still, wordless with your heart skipping beat after beat, wondering if the afterglow of your orgasm has completely broken the last shred of your sanity. 

[vore-mpregfan57]

Late Night Library Snack

(A vore story starting AbigChris)

It was another night at the library preparing for finals. It was pouring rain outside as I fingered chapter 5 of the 27 chapter text book. I kept reading, but I soon looked up after finishing chapter 8, and to my surprise, there was no one in the library. I then check the time, and I realized the library had closed about 15 minutes ago.

I quickly packed up my stuff and went to the exit, but when I tried to the door open, it wouldn’t budge. I then remembered that the library locked automatically, and I realized I was stuck in the library till morning.

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me, and I turned around to see a tall man standing behind me. He asked me if the door was locked, and I said yeah, and I told him that we were stuck for the night. He then held his hand out and introduced himself to me, telling me his name was Chris.

Me and Chris then spent the next little bit getting to know each other, considering it was dark and we were stuck for the night. As we chatted, I could hear his stomach growling, and at one point, it growled so loud that no one could ignore it. I asked him if he was hungry, and he said yeah and told me he hadn’t eaten in a few hours. He then looked me up and down, then he asked me if I wanted to help him out, and I knew exactly what he meant, and I excitedly agreed.

I then asked Chris if he wanted me to get more “comfortable”, and he said I could decide that. I said alright, then quickly took off my t-shirt and basketball shorts. I then looked at Chris, and he smirked and said I looked good shirtless. My face instantly turned bright red, and he didn’t hesitate for a second, and within a few moments, I was curled up inside his belly.

After landing inside his stomach, I was surprised to feel no burning, and I asked him if he had taken an anti-acid pill, and he said no, but he then told me that his stomach acid was just at a really low level, and he said that it would probably take a few weeks to fully digest me. I said alright, then I asked him if he was planning on digesting me, and he told me that he would let me decide once we got out of the library.

We then spent the rest of the night talking and just enjoying each other’s company. It honestly felt weird being inside a stomach and being slowly digested without panicking, but I honestly felt safe inside Chris, dispute knowing that I was slowly becoming his meal.

Around 8am, while me and Chris were talking about a campus event that happened a few days ago, he told me he hears a sound, and he went to the front entrance and saw the door open. He then grabbed my stuff and his stuff, and we left the library.

Once we were out, he asked me if I wanted to stay inside him and become his meal or if I wanted to come out a see another day. I then look around me. I looked at the pool of acid that was starting to tingle around me. I looked at the pieces of granola bar floating in front of me. I then looked inside myself and at my life. After a few moments, I said that I would stay inside and become his meal.

The next few days were amazing. Chris went to his finals, and my body slowly started to dissolve. By the 2nd morning, my underwear had complete dissolved, and I was nude inside his stomach. By day 5, I could see little bits of a my skin starting flake off. Throughout all of this, Chris talked to me and kept me company, and I felt safe. Even though I was slowly digesting, I was happier than I had been my entire college experience.

Around day 8, I started to feel weak. I thanked Chris for giving me a great last few days, and he said that it was his pleasure. Later that night, I lost consciousness, and over the course of the next few days, my entire body fell into the acid, and by week 3, I had dissolved and become observed by Chris’s body, adding to his belly, ass, and thighs.

This is Chris writing now. He was a great meal, but had even better friend. He will forever be remembered on my body, and I even got a tattoo of his name on my arm. Goodbye little buddy. You were amazing in every way.

[techramonic]

What is Pain? : How Austin Eubanks Dealt with Addiction and the Aftermath of Columbine.

Austin and Corey

Stephen Austin Eubanks was a junior and a star student in Columbine High School. Corey Tyler DePooter, his best friend, was also a particularly gifted student who prioritized his studies over anything else. Despite having a wide range of interests, the two kids particularly bonded over their shared passion for fishing.

At the age of 17, Corey had gotten a job doing maintenance at a golf club in order to earn money for a fishing boat that he planned to buy with a friend — likely Austin. The two often used to go fishing together and would talk about the struggles they had as teenagers.

Day of the Tragedy

On April 20th of 1999, the two were inside the library getting ready to get lunch with their friends, Jennifer Doyle and Peter Ball. That was until they had heard shots fired from the outside, not recognizing the sounds and believing that it was only the sounds of construction. Then they heard a bomb go off, a teacher rushing in to scream for the students to hide underneath the table because two students were armed with guns.

In a state of shock and fear, the four duck under the same table near the windows. With 10 minutes passing, the shooters had already entered the library and methodically fired under each table as recalled by him. His best friend, Corey, was one of those who were shot after being aimed with a semi-automatic rifle and shot at the neck, chest, and left arm by Dylan Klebold.

The bullet that hit Austin's hand first passed through his best friend, killing him instantly. With his best friend lying lifelessly beside him and being wounded on his hand and knee, Austin had no other choice than to try to play dead while laying in a pool of blood. When the shooting had stopped, Austin ran through the smoke and out of the backdoor of the library. He was only 17 when the shooting occured.

In Austin's TedTalk “What Columbine Shooting taught me about pain and addiction”, he recalls:

"I remember how I felt: I was confused, I was afraid, I felt sick and I was vulnerable. And just minutes later, I was playing dead underneath a table next to a pool of blood. I had just been shot and I witnessed my best friend murdered right in front of me as we were huddled together waiting for help to come."

Pain, Grief, and Narcotics

During the time he fled from the crime scene, Austin marked that as one of the most impacting and damaging experiences he has ever experienced in regards to the feeling of pain. His definition of pain was nothing similar to what he describes in his present days.

Pain, in a medical sense, is the variably unpleasant sensation of physiological systems mediated by specific nerve fibers of the brain that are conscious of receiving signals of awareness. According to Austin's TedTalk, the American Pain Society introduced the term "pain is the fifth vital sign" in 1996. This means that when you enter the room, your status is assessed using five different data points: blood pressure, pulse rate, temperature, respiration rate, and pain.

Due to a movement that was certain that we were undertreating pain, patient satisfaction surveys were implemented in order to monitor the campaign's success. To him, in order to uphold this new momentum and cause the patient's pain levels to cease completely, the ethical dilemma instantly arose:

“Do I issue this person with narcotics to make them happy or deny them and potentially hurt my compensation, the revenue of the hospital? Or at worse, open myself up for a grievance for undertreating pain that could potentially result in the loss of my job?”

Austin says that the healthcare system predominantly treats physiological systems and would rather not assess emotional pain into the equation. He akins the emotional pain of dealing with trauma being identical or if not more than when dealing with physical pain. With that, within months after the incident, Austin was prescribed opiate medication for his injuries.

In an exclusive interview with The Fix, he said that his injuries were not to the point of needing an opiate pain medication but was immediately given a 30-day supply and became addicted within three months. From then on, he said, “I used substances every day, day in and day out.”

After the shooting, his parents took him to a therapist who said Austin was too shut down to process his horrific trauma. But the reason no one could reach him was because he was overmedicated. He was addicted to painkillers, and used medication because of his unwillingness to engage in the stages of grief that he dreaded to face. He was haunted by the past. Struggling with survivor's guilt and the death of his best friend, he would rather ignore the intense burdening feelings he bore. According to him,

“Acute Physical Pain ends relatively quickly, complex emotional pain does not.”

The morphine Eubanks received at the hospital that day proved to be the opening dose of a costly addiction to prescription painkillers - one that revolved around commonly prescribed drug Oxycontin, he said.

“I learned to manipulate doctors … I could literally get whatever I wanted. Telling them I’d been shot at Columbine and lost my best friend was like [getting] an open prescription book from any doctor.”

He could not process the grief, moreso, he didn't want to. He didn't want to be haunted by the memories that scarred him. In his own words, he would describe the physical ailments he felt to be a 4 or 5, but the emotional turmoil was a 10.

Austin never set foot back to Columbine. His parents hired a tutor and he then went on to graduate in 2000. He attended the Columbine ceremonies but never went back inside the school. He then went into advertising and married in his early 20s. Around this time his substance abuse escalated, and his first attempt to get sober was in 2006. He went into a 30-day inpatient program but failed within hours of leaving, for  relapsing using pain pills and Adderall. 

Addiction and Sobriety 

He failed both outpatient and rehab twice and it wasn't until 10 years later, in 2009 that he was able to overcome this addiction. Right before Columbine, young Austin had been misdiagnosed with ADD. 

“I didn’t have ADD,” said Eubanks. “I just liked being outdoors and playing golf better than being in school. At that time, if anybody was truant at school they said, ‘Oh, they must be ADD. Let’s put them on a stimulant.’ That was why I got Adderall. I liked it because I could abuse opiate pain medication to the level that most people would be nodding out. With Adderall, I could function. Basically, I was doing oral speedballs. It was like using methamphetamine and heroin.”

His second try at being sober was in 2008. Gaining the motivation to change after recently separating from his wife, he went to treatment, stayed 90 days, and achieved eight months of sobriety. Then, he akinned addiction to a causal sequence, a domino effect. According to him, he achieved abstinence for a period of time, built up enough false confidence to where he thought he could drink, because alcohol was never a problem. From alcohol, he went to weed, then Xanax, then Oxycontin, and then back into the same routine.

In 2011, approaching the age of 30 and estranged from his wife and kids, he hit rock bottom: "My sobriety date is April 2, 2011. I woke up in a jail cell and had no clue how I got there." His downward spiral began with Oxycontin and alcohol abuse, leading to arrests for various offenses like car theft and fraud. Realizing that he needed a drastic change, he recounted that his lowest moment was waking up in withdrawal, hungover, and facing the ruins of his marriage and being estranged from his children. He knew he had to stop or he would die. After unsuccessful attempts at sobriety, he finally sought help, surrendered to treatment, and was now willing to follow any guidance to rebuild his life.

His journey to lasting sobriety didn't hinge on traditional 12-step programs, but rather on understanding behavioral triggers and brain function through a therapeutic community approach. He was five years sober and started working at The Foundry in Colorado, becoming the COO and handling approaches that combined neuroscience with 12-step principles, recognizing that each person's path to recovery is unique. Using comprehensive approaches aiming to rebuild the lives of those in recovery.

During this time, he would also indulge in old activities in remembrance of his bestfriend.

“It’s something I do to connect with Corey. It's always nice whenever I catch a fish that's above the normal or something special about it. I always tend to look up and give a nod to him. And I know he’s still looking out for me."

Sadly, despite his long battle against drug addiction, in 2019, Austin had passed away in his home in Colorado after an accidental heroin overdose. Just a month after the 20th anniversary of Columbine, Austin was 37 at the time.

What is Pain?

Pain, to Austin, encompassed many things: the confusion and vulnerability of not knowing what to do in such a time of terror, the physical wounds that the doctors tried to medicate to bring the pain meter to zero, and most importantly, the emotional hurt of knowing your best friend was gone, taken right in front of you. Knowing that very moment can never be undone.

His advice for survivors dealing with the same guilt is to feel it. Don't run away from it. Survivors often find other things that allow them to detach from the pain, but to him, that's the wrong choice.

“You can heal physical pain while you’re medicating it. You cannot heal emotional pain while you are medicating it, In order to heal emotional pain, you have to feel it ... You want to feel better immediately, [but] you have to have the courage to sit in and feel it, and if you can do that long enough, you will come out on the other side.”

Along with post-traumatic stress, there is also the potential for post-traumatic growth.

“That doesn’t imply you will ever be the same person again. After a trauma, you will be changed forever.”

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Coriolanus Snow might be a heartless monster, but he'll always be yours. You'll always be his obsession. And that was one thing that Dr. Gaul underestimated her protege about: his obsession with you.

Masterlist here

Heartless Pt. 2

Coriolanus always thought that if he ever laid eyes on you again that he'd kill you. Wrap his hands around your neck, squeeze, and watch your life force drain out of you. He always thought that he'd look deep into your eyes until they glazed over with the death that he brought you.

But Coriolanus never thought that when he saw you again that he'd be keeping vigil at your bedside, watching your ashen form weak and in an endless sleep, while rocking your- his newborn son in his arms.

A son that he only found out about when your older brother called him up, frantic.

That call changed everything. It replayed in his mind on an endless loop as he stared at you, hopelessly willing you to open your eyes.

Coriolanus was sitting in his office in the lab. He finally got promoted from intern to assistant. Coriolanus was right underneath Dr.Gaul; he was proud of how quickly he was promoted.

7 months of hard work had paid off. He now had power, authorization to top secret projects and documents, and a large say so when it came to gamemaker duties. His work was very important to him; he had the steel spine that it took to make the hard decisions that some other game make s and interns turned green about.

Coriolanus Snow was rewarded because he was a heartless monster that did anything to get the result that he needed. That he wanted. He would do anything to see the games remain a success, even if that meant proposing some measures that would make the game a total spectucal.

Dr. Gaul approved of all of his ideas and suggestions. And the one that she pushed for, well he approved of and pressured the other low level gamemakers into approving it too.

It was genius, his mentor’s idea.

Having all children born on District Peacekeeper Bases be registered as a district citizen belong to the district of their birth instead of being granted automatic Capitol citizenship would ensure that their was a larger participation pool for the games; it also prevented too many officers from muddying their Capitol blood with that of district scum.

Coriolanus was looking over a chart for a mutt experiment whenever his private office phone started to ring.

Ring, ring ring…Ring, ring, ring…Ring, ring, ring…

Oh no, was Grandma'am’s memory worsening? Was she giving Ma Plinth a hard time? God, he hopes not.

Ring, ring, ring…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a deep sigh before picking up the phone. “Assistant Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow. Whom may I be speaking with?”

“Snow, it’s Officer Rein Halvir, Y/N’s older brother. I'm calling because I need you to get to the base in District 12 right away. Y/N’s been in labor for nearly 36 hours, the doctor won't do a cesarean because Dr. Gaul put into effect a new policy that surgical resources can only be used for peacekeepers and not any civilians living on base, and it's not looking good, Coriolanus.”

“What?...” Was all Coriolanus could say. He was stunned. You could possibly be dying in childbirth? With a child he didn't know about? And on a district base.

On a district base.

Oh no! Not that!

“She was afraid to tell you, Snow. You had her terrified with the stalking: nonstop roses and jewelry. Our mother sent her to stay with me. Once it was announced that children born on district bases would be district citizens and eligible for the games, I tried to get her to go back to the Capitol, but mother refused to let her come back. I even told Y/N to call you; try to work things out with you, but she refused. Said that you never loved her; wouldn't care what happened to her or the baby.”

“I’ll talk to Dr. Gaul about approving a cesarean for Y/N right away.” Coriolanus told Rein as his dead heart started to bleed.

“Thank you, Snow.” Rein replied, a hint of gratefulness in his normally stern tone. “Will you be coming to the base? To see-” your brother began to ask, only for your ex to cut him off with, “I’ll be there, but only because I don't want my child raised in such a filthy, mud hole of a district as 12.”

Coriolanus didn't say another word. Just hung up his phone.

Machines beeped, monitoring you as you slept. Coriolanus felt that you looked dead, not asleep. He was so angry. You weren't supposed to be unconscious in your bed. You were supposed to be up, sitting in bed, holding your baby. You were supposed to scream and cry at him when he walked into your room. You weren't supposed to be just lying there, hanging in-between life and death.

Not when he had faxed the paperwork with Dr. Gaul's signature for the approval of your emergency cesarean.

You were supposed to be okay. You and the baby both. Not just the baby.

As Coriolanus watched you, waiting for a sign of life, he got lost in the recent memory of when he first saw you again.

When Coriolanus got off the train at the District 12 depot, he thought your brother would be there to greet him, but he was wrong. Instead, he had to make his own way to the District 12 base. Thank God he knew where it was, from his short stint as a peacekeeper, otherwise he'd be lost.

The walk to the base was long and grueling. He’d forgotten how far off the base was from the train depot. From the main part of the district itself.

Once he reached the on base hospital, he inquired about your whereabouts and was told where to find you. When he walked into your room, he was expecting you to be tired, but conscious. He even thought you'd be holding or nursing the baby.

Coriolanus never thought he'd walk into your room only to see you hooked up to a machine with your brother’s girlfriend (some district trash he picked up at the hob) by your side. A baby bassinet between your bed and her chair.

She introduced herself as Ashlie (didn't give a surname, not like he cared) and gestured to the bassinet, only to tell him, “That's your son, Cassian Xandros.”

Cassian Xandros.

A name befitting a Snow heir.

“You may go now. I'll watch over her.” Coriolanus told the skinny girl, who looked to be from the Seam. He didn't even bother to introduce himself. He just wanted her to go so he could- hell he didn't know, he guessed sit by your bedside until you woke up, but he didn't want some district whore watching him as he sat by your bedside with your son.

His son.

Cassian Xandros.

Ashlie nodded, a pitiful look in her eyes. She felt bad for both you and Coriolanus, but was too afraid to voice her opinion. The Seam girl just scurried out of the room, leaving Coriolanus alone with you and your son.

She didn't know much about what happened between the two of you, just what Rein told her. And your brother didn't share much since he only knew the handful of facts that you shared with him.

What both Rein and Ashlie knew for certain was that your son with his pure Capitol blood and fine Snow linage was doomed for a chance to fight for his life in the infamous death battle royale known as the Hunger Games all because he was born on Peacekeeper Base-12.

Her heart broke for you, Coriolanus, and your son because no matter if you lived or died, well the platinum blonde father would never be able to bring his son home to the Capitol with him. District born citizens of Panem were forbidden to travel outside of their district of birth unless it was to be delivered to the Capitol as a tribute for the annual Hunger Games. Due to the new rules and laws put into place regarding children born on bases being registered at birth as a citizen of the district of the base, your son was forbidden to leave District 12.

If you die, well, Coriolanus will have to give Cassian Xandros up to Rein (and Ashlie) to raise. That subject’s the reason why your brother’s avoiding Snow.

Once your brother's girlfriend had left, Coriolanus sat down in the chair she had once been occupying. He sadly sighed as he took in your condition.

When his eyes landed on his son, he felt pride well up in his chest. The boy, Cassian Xandros, had his natural platinum blonde hair.

He looked just like him.

Was his little mini me.

He gently picked up his baby boy and cradled him to his chest. When Cassian began to stir Coriolanus rocked him. “Don't worry, son, I got rid of the evil lady that tried to take you and your mother away from me.”

Cassian blinked his eyes open, revealing them to be blue. Coriolanus smiled at his son, seeing that he had striking blue eyes, and told his son, “You're mine and your mother's mine. Nobody ever takes what's mine and gets away with it.”

The baby just blinked at his father, not understanding anything he was saying since, after all, he was just a newborn, and then scrunched his nose. He then closed his eyes and went to sleep in his father's arms.

His father's murderous, monstrous arms.

When your eyes fluttered open, Coriolanus felt a sense of relief he didn't know possible. After not knowing if you'd ever wake up, seeing your beautiful eyes again was like heaven.

And to think that he had once vowed to kill you if he ever crossed your path again. But that was when he thought you gave up on him.

No, things changed when he realized that you were trying to protect the Snow heir because you felt unsafe after that package you recieved.

That damn package Dr. Gaul, his mentor, had sent you. A tape with a letter persuading you that he was incapable of loving you.

A letter he didn't know about until Dr. Gaul let it slip when he approached her about signing off on your emergency cesarean forms.

Too bad she let it slip…Well, too bad for her since it ended her career. And ended her too, by the hands of her most prized prodigy.

The memory makes Coriolanus smile as it washed over him like a warm waterfall.

Coriolanus strode into Dr. Gaul's private lab, where she had her latest deadly mutt experiment in a terrarium, with one mission in mind. To get Dr. Gaul's approval for your cesarean.

He might hate you for leaving, but he didn't want you to die in childbirth with his baby. He didn't want you and your child to succumb to the same fate as his mother and baby sister.

Not when he could help it.

He was a child when his mother and baby sister died during child birth in the Dark Days, he was helpless when it came to their fate.

But now Coriolanus was a man, a very successful one that had cunning, wits, and charm to carry him far. He had an endless supply of money too. He was no longer helpless when it came to the fate of his- well his heir and it's mother during a deadly childbirth.

Coriolanus now has the means to beat fate when it came to death in the birthing bed; he was going to make sure that you and his heir did not share the same fate his mother and baby sister all those years ago during the war.

“Dr. Gaul, I need you to sign off on an emergency cesarean for Miss Y/N Halvir. She's at the military hospital ob Peacekeeper Base-12.”

“Hippity, hoppity, looks like Snow's melting for a baby boppity.” Dr. Gaul sing-songed in a mocking cackle as she watched the mutts moving around in their tank.

They looked agitated, starved even, as their colorful bodies slithered around, sharp claws scratching their glass enclosure, and sharp teeth gnashing and snapping.

The mad scientist was teasing them by holding a bucket full of food, pulling a rodent from it and dangling it by the glass terrarium. She was teasing them, gauging their reaction to her lunchtime torture.

She had snatched away her most successful experiment’s most desperately wanted meal before he could eat; Dr. Gaul had even spoon fed him a meal that was just as good, but not what he wanted. It was what he needed, what she needed him to have to be the monstrous creature she wanted by her side to do her bidding.

She enjoyed teasing and taunting her experiments.

The only creatures of hers that she actually fed were her eels. But…they were more like beloved, dangerous, pets then mutts at this point since Dr. Gaul's had them for so many years.

Dr. Gaul placed the squirming mouse back into the bucket, turning away from the glass tank to look at Coriolanus. “No.” She simply said before walking across the lab to shelf the bucket of rodents.

She'd have an assistant feed the baby anthropomorphic reptiles in the terrarium later, after she shooed away her favorite creation, Mr. Snow, and had her milk and crackers.

“No?” Coriolanus parroted, his tone full of disbelief.

How dare she tell him no? He wasn't asking her to authorize a procedure on anyone, but the mother of his child.

“But, Dr. Gaul, without the procedure Y/N and the baby might die.”

“If they die then they die, Coriolanus.” The mad scientist shrugged nonchalantly. “Death is a natural part of life. If someone weaker or lesser than is removed from the cycle of life then it just proves that their contribution to the ecosystem would not have mattered. Death is the natural way of purging those creatures that are useless in the world.”

Coriolanus could not believe what he was hearing. His mentor was giving him a lecture on why he needed to let the mother of his child and his heir die.

Was he supposed to agree with her?

Well, he couldn't do that.

He didn't want his heir to die.

And you…well…he wanted to be the one that killed you. For leaving him, of course.

“I'm not talking about weak helpless creatures, I'm talking about-” Coriolanus began to say, only for the mad scientist to cut him off with a scoff.

“The little girl that left you over a few words of warning penned in a letter and your damning tape of your best friend Sejanus’ rebel plot. Her bastard offspring that’ll be as weak hearted as its mother. That's who you're talking about, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul told, not asked, Coriolanus as she crossed her lab. Going over to where she had a small table with crackers and milk set up for her snack.

A letter? What letter? He knew about the tape, but not a letter. You never told him about the letter.

“Might as well be weak helpless creatures, considering their dire circumstances and the lowly district they're in.” The mad woman added in as a slight after thought.

“I never told you she received a letter.” Coriolanus, who had figured out what Dr. Gaul has done, told the scientist while following her. His floor shines clicked heavily against the linoleum floor as he told her, “The only way you'd know would be if you sent it.”

Taking a seat at her small snack table, the scientist with wild, frizzy hair, giggled, “Oh, yes, you see, it was indeed me that sent the weak little girl that care package.” Reaching for her napkin and snapping it open, she evilly grinned, “Miss Y/N Halvir and the bastard she carries would only have held you back.” Setting her napkin on her lap, she explained, “The feelings they would have invoked in you would only make you weak.” Giving her protege a proud smile, she giddily announced, “I only made you stronger by removing an element not needed in your life at the moment.” Reaching for a cracker that was on a plate, Dr. Gaul failed to see the rage in Coriolanus' blue eyes. Perhaps if she did, she wouldn't have said, “You should be thanking me, for making you stronger and more powerful then you could have been months ago with the weakness of that stupid girl and the vile creature she's incubating.”

Hearing Dr. Gaul calling you stupid and calling his child a vile creature was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Coriolanus was barely hanging onto his sanity when he realized that Dr. Gaul made you leave him, made you want to protect his child from any dangers (including him) because of a letter and a tape she sent you. But the moment she insulted you, the woman that has consumed his thoughts and has been his obsession since his freshman year in the Academy, and his child in a way that made you seem inhuman, well, he snapped.

He was blinded with rage as he pounced on the mad scientist, catching her off guard and causing her to fall backwards; off her chair.

Coriolanus kneeled over her while wrapping his hands around her throat.

“Y/N was mine, you knew she was mine, and you took her from me! You took her and our child from me when you knew all I wanted was a life with her!” Coriolanus wildly exclaimed as he choked the life out of Dr. Gaul.

“Everything I've ever done was all for her! I needed to win the Plinth prize for her, for our life together, and I had to find a way out of the Peacekeepers, out of 12, for her! You knew that and still, you made her think she meant nothing to me; made her view me as a monster and leave me!” The platinum blonde ranted as his long fingers pressed so hard into the dark skinned woman’s neck that the bones began to crack.

Dr. Gaul gasped for air as her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her eyes were wide and frenzied with the horrific realization that her favorite mutt, the monster she molded and shaped, had turned on her all because somewhere deep down inside of his black, dead heart, he still had a space reserved for his childhood sweetheart.

The blood vessels in Dr. Gaul's eyes burst due to the pressure Coriolanus was applying to her airway. He smirked wickedly as he watched the life drain from her.

“Snow lands on top.” Was the last thing Dr. Gaul heard before she died and went straight to hell.

Coriolanus, upon seeing that the evil scientist was dead, quickly tossed her into the pool of eels to cover up the crime.

Then he forged her signature on the documents needed for your cesarean; faxed them to the hospital on the base in District 12. He also made a quick note in her desk planner stating that he had to take an emergency family leave due to the birth of his first child. It was the perfect alibi to cover his tracks. Nobody would question his whereabouts if they thought Dr. Gaul herself authorized your emergency cesarean, authorized his family leave as well.

You were weak as you took in the bright artificial lights of your hospital room. When you tried to sit up, you were gently stopped by a large hand you hadn't seen in months. “You need to rest, darling. You're still weak.” A baritone you never thought you'd ever hear again told you.

Looking towards the voice, you saw Coriolanus sitting by your bedside with your baby in his arms. Your heart stopped beating and all you could say was, “My baby.”

You didn't know if you were afraid that your ex was holding your son or overwhelmed with a sick sense of joy, but all you knew was that you wanted your baby.

“Our baby, Y/N.” Coriolanus corrected you before standing and placing the newborn into your awaiting arms.

As you held your son to your chest, you shuddered and began crying. The last thing you remember was passing out and when you woke up…well…you had no idea what happened to the baby.

“Did my brother call you?” You asked, realizing that's the only way Coriolanus would know where to find you. Honestly, you were shocked he even came when Rein called.

“Yes.” The platinum blonde nodded. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he wrapped an arm around your back and promised, “As soon as your cleared to leave, I'm bringing you and Cassian Xandros home with me, to the Capitol.”

Looking between your son, nestled soundly in your arms, and his father, you sadly sighed, “Cassian's district, Coriolanus. He was born on base; he won't be allowed on the train.”

“Don't worry about that, my darling rose. I promise, our son will be allowed to return to the Capitol with us.”

You doubted your ex’s words, but nodded anyways.

Little did you know that Coriolanus threatened to kill the nurse’s family who gave him the registration papers for your son if he was marked down as anything, but born in Capitol General.

Like hell was his son, his heir, going to be district. His son wasn't going to grow up in a filthy mud hole. And he sure as hell wasn't going to be fighting for his life in the games.

Coriolanus kills so that his son, Cassian, doesn't have to.

So, folded up neatly in his pocket was a birth certificate that falsely states that Cassian Xandros Snow was born at Capitol General, in Capitol City, Panem.

Even tho Coriolanus Snow was a heartless monster, he was yours. He’s always been obsessed with you and now that you share a child with him, well, even the devil couldn't keep you and your son from him.

After all, he did send the wicked witch of the Citadel to hell for you and his son.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons , @qoopeeya , @mfnqueen1

[andvys]

a gift.

Steve’s knee bouncing up and down, almost vibrating a hole in the floor. The neon lights of the hospital beat down, straining his eyes even more following the stress of the last few hours.

“Uncle Steve!” a small voice echos through the halls of the ER, small uncertain footsteps rushing towards him. A familiar mess of brown curls bobs with every step and his arms stretch automatically to pick up Matty Munson.

“Hey my guy! Wheres your dad?” he questions, placing Matty on his knee. Matty takes a second to ponder the question before he points to the ER doors.

Steve squints, looking towards the doors as he struggles to see the older munson. A moment later, the automatic ER doors slide open followed by a series of camera flashes and a loud, angry voice belonging to Eddie.

“Fucking vultures” the rockstar spits at them, taking his sunglasses off and looking around for his son.

Steve clocks eyes with him and raises a hand, a tight lipped smile settled across his face. Eddie glares right back at him…if looks could kill. The doors open again and Eddie’s frazzled publicist Fran follows behind him, barking out orders at security to move the paparazzi away from the door.

A small hand reaches for Steve’s stubbled jaw, fingers almost in his mouth and directing his attention back to little Munson. “Is mommy ok?” he asks, brown eyes wide and looking slightly scared.

“Mommy’s fine. Matty can you go with Fran to get Mommy some jello while I talk with Uncle Steve?” Eddie uses a large palm to guide Matty away and into the waiting hand of Fran.

The two men watch slowly as Fran guides Matty down the corridor and out of sight. Eddie takes a deep breath, adjusting his jeans as he takes a seat next to Steve, his eyes never leaving the mans profile.

Steve gulps, attempting not to be intimidated, but with how reckless Eddie’s behavior has been of late - it’s difficult.

Eddie gets as close to Steves face as he can, lowering his voice, a voice filmed with so much venom it makes goosebumps erupt through Steve’s body.

“Can you give me a run down of what happened Steve? Why you and my pregnant wife were seemingly in vacation together? Where she then took a fall? And needed to come here? Are you fucking stupid? This would’ve never happened if she’d have be-”

One of the things you need to know about Steve is he was good at keeping his cool, he overreacted a lot of a young adult but now in his 30s, he was so laid back he was almost horizontal. Apart from when it came to those he loved.

“You’ve been separated for 7 months Eddie. It’s not really your business what she does. And accidents happen, like I said on the phone, she slipped getting out of the pool. Pretty sure that could’ve happened if you were there or not” Steve responded as level headed as he could.

Eddie’s jaw twitched, a tattooed hand coming up to rub his jaw. A tick Steve knows all too well. Eddie nods his head repeatedly as he digests Steve’ words.

“She’s my wife Steve. Matty is my son. That baby girl is my baby. They’re my family.”

Steve doesn’t respond. They’ve been through this a thousand times. Ever since Eddie’s affair went public 6 months ago, he refused to accept what he had done to his family. He was the one that broke his wife. He was the one that humiliated her. He was the one that forced Matty to split his time between parents.

“What do you think is going to happen Steve? She’ll have our baby and you get to step in and play Daddy Steve? It’s so secret you’ve always had eyes for my girl. You were always there, just waiting for me to fuck up so you could step in, king steve the saviour here to”

“She served you with divorce papers. Are you so conceited to think she still wants to play happy families with you? After what you did to her? She was so distraught she almost lost the baby-” Steve spits back at him.

Steve had been there from the start. Eddie knew Page Six had the scoop on his affair, and instead of getting ahead of it and telling you himself, he took an impromptu trip to visit Wayne and let you find out at the same time the rest of the world did. He did what he always did. He ran.

The mention of that night you ended up in hospital in the early stage of your pregnancy was enough to tip Eddie over the edge.

Eddie flew out of his chair, grabbing Steve by the collar of his shirt and slamming him against the pillar. Gasps filled the ER and flashes from the door were the least of his problems right now.

“She’s my wife. If she thinks I’m signing those divorce papers-” Eddie is so close to Steve, every word he grits out lands a glob of saliva on his cheeks.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave” a calm voice from behind the men demands.

Eddie’s eyes bulge out of his head, the veins almost popping through his neck. For a moment everyone remains still. Eddie loosens his grip on Steve who takes a second to stand up straight.

“I’m not fucking leaving until I’ve seen my wife” Eddie spits, eyes still on Steve.

Steve laughs under his breath, running a hand through his hair. Eddie takes this as his chance and slams his head into Steve’s face, busting not only Steve’s nose but his own in the process. Security rushes to grab Eddie and place him in cuffs when the double doors to the ER open.

“Family of Y/N Y/L/N?” The doctor calls out, looking amongst the carnage of the ER.

why…. would… you… do… this… to… ME

you broke my heart???!!!!!

EDDIE!?? EDDIE NO

NOT MY BOY DOING THIS TO ME IMMA KMS

i cannot deal with him doing this — i’m, i’ll be thinking about this for the rest of my life, i’m sick to my stomach

goodbye.

[nonscathingbullets]

Chris Knight x Shy!Chubby!Reader

Part Two Pool Party

Fluffy fluff fluff

⭐️Slightly proofread⭐️

⚠️Warnings: Mentions of weight insecurity. Slightly suggestive.⚠️

(Disclaimer: I don't really know a lot of complicated science terms, but I tried... a little.)

👙🩳👙🩳👙🩳👙🩳👙🩳👙🩳👙🩳👙🩳👙🩳

The pool party was in full swing. Mitchell and Jordan were jumping off the diving board, trying to see who could make the biggest splash. Kent was being turned down by, yet another woman he offered what he called a "refreshing be-ver-agé" to. And other bikini clad girls were splashing each other and playing chicken with their boyfriends. As you walked beside the pool, you couldn't help but feel a bit out of place. Every other woman seemed so hot compared to you. They might as well have been on a summer Sports Illustrsted calendar in your opinion. Chris noticed you tugging at your own bikini top as your bare foot fidgetted at the pavement, and he was quick to take both of your hands tenderly into his.

"Hey, none of that, you hear me?" He pulled you to him, bringing his face level with yours. "You look gorgeous, baby. Now let me get you a drink." He offered, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. He went off to the snack bar they had set up for the students while you sat by the pool enjoying the cool water on your feet and legs. It was so refreshing on such a hot day that you were tempted to just get right in, submerging your whole body, but you opted to wait for Chris. As you dangled your legs off the edge, moving them back and forth, you noticed a couple of girls swimming in your direction. They were perfect looking. One was blonde, the other a red head, and they both had strikingly toned midsections that their swimsuits complimented amazingly. You likened them to beautiful sirens you used to read about as a child. The closer they got, the more anxious you became. A lump began forming in your throat, and sweat began collecting on your forehead. Terror made itself ever present through your whole body, and your nerves felt like they might shut down at any moment. They finally stopped right in front of you, and the blonde flashed you a smile. As she opened her mouth to speak, you mentally prepared yourself to be called everything in the book.

"Hey there!! Sorry if this seems weird, but... well, Mindy and I saw you walking in with Chris, and we couldn't stop talking about how stunning you look in that bathing suit!" She compliment whole heartedly. Your heart all but lept out of your chest, and heat rose to your cheeks.

"R-Really? You really think so?" You asked almost too happily. Mindy nodded.

"Absolutely! It accentuates your curves perfectly! Man, I wish I had curves like that. No matter what I do, I'm stuck looking like I don't eat a damn thing. Up until the 10th grade, girls would always call me slim jim."

You were absolutely shocked. You wanted to slap yourself for automatically assuming the worst of them before they even spoke to you. "No! I think you look great! Both of you!" You exclaimed. "Those bathing suits are amazing..."

The three of you talked for a little bit before Chris made his way back with a drink for the both of you to share. He smiled wide when he saw you actually talking to some of the other girls. "So ladies... what are we all up to?" He only waited a split second for a response before hollering, "TIMES UP. The correct answer was... JUMPING IN THE POOL!!" He yelled before grabbing you and diving in with you in his arms. You quickly held your breath just before your bodies splashed into the cool water of the pool. After a couple of seconds, you popped back up, gasping for air. The drink that was just in Chris' hand not long ago was now tipped over, spilling its fruity contents onto the hit cement.

"Chris!" You shrieked in surprise, moving your limbs through the water to stay afloat. He gave his head a quick shake, getting rid of the excess water before hurtling a wave of water at you. "Hey! No fair! I barely had time to breathe!" You shouted as you playfully splashed him back.

"Oooh, splash fight!!" The girls shouted in unison, joining in. After a few hours of fun in the sun and some snacks, the sun started to get low, and people began to return to their dorms. Mindy had given you hers and her friend Sharon's dorm number and even made plans to go shopping with you before taking their leave.

Pretty soon, it was just you and Chris alone, sharing his beach towel and looking up at the sky together. Well, you were looking at the sky. Chris was too busy playing with a strand of your chlorine soaked hair and placing soft kisses on your face here and there, making you blush and giggle. You really didn't know what the smartest man in school saw in you. Not only was he a genius, but he was charming in a way that could easily allow him anyone he wanted, yet here he was, showering you with kisses and adoration. He must've been able to tell your mind was wondering because he quickly scooped you up and stood holding you bridal style.

"What are you thinking about?" He questioned, already knowing the answer. You snapped out of your thoughts as you looked up at him and shrugged.

"Dunno... what about you?"

"Comtemplating the difference between yogurt and cultured cream," he stated simply, trying his best to look serious. He couldn't for long. His face broke into a smile, causing you to smile back at him. You knew he could tell something was bothering you. "Looks like you leave me no choice..." He swung you towards the pool and acted as if he was going to let go, causing you to yelp and cling onto him.

"Chris! What are you doing?!"

"Say you're beautiful, or I swear to science I will throw you in right now," he threatened, swinging you again.

"Chris, cut it out!" You yelled with a giggle, clutching him for dear life.

"Say it! I'll do it right now if you don't say it." It really felt like he was going to let go of you on that last swing.

"Okay, okay! I'm beautiful, alright? I am beautiful!" You said it so firmly that you actually started to believe it. His smile grew wide as he sat back down on his towel with you snuggled up in his lap, still clinging onto him. He wrapped his Hawaiian shirt around you, making you look him in the eyes.

"And don't you ever forget that, babe. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on," he whispered before planting a deep, loving kiss on your lips. You tangled your fingers into the soft locks of his hair that was already mostly dry and wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your body as close to his as you possibly could. He smirked against your lips before pulling away and resting his chin on top of your head. You instinctively buried your face into the crook of his neck. Despite being bathed in chlorine for well over an hour, he still smelled amazing. You suffered softly at the feeling of his hands roaming every dip and curve ever so gently with his large hands. "I'm in love with all of this... so hopelessly in love," he murmured, peppering tender kisses on your head and face once again. Your heart began to race as your mind processed his words. "So soft. So beautiful. So funny. So sweet. What more could a guy ask for?" You looked up at him, feeling as if you were going to cry.

"Y... You love me?" You asked, shocked. He flashed you a sugar-coated smile, taking your face in his hands.

"Of course I do, baby." And with that, he kissed your nose and tucked you back into the comfort of his warm embrace.

The two of you sat there in each other's arms, talking about everything and nothing, sharing jokes and kisses, making fun of Kent. Pretty soon, you both drifted into a peaceful slumber on the stiff concrete.

The next morning, you awoke to the harsh sunlight glinting on your eyelids. You shifted slightly, sitting yourself up, and then it donned on you.

"Shit! Chris, wake up!" You shouted frantically. He stirred a bit and mumbled almost incoherently.

"That's gamma radiation... no... it'll never work... stop!"

You tried to stop yourself from laughing as you shook him firmly. "Chris! Come on, wake up... we're late for class!" More science babble spewed from his mouth as his body shifted again. You sighed and stood up, walking towards the pool. "Alright... I guess I'll just have to swim naked all by myself..." You sang. He darted straight up without missing a beat.

"I'm awake!" He declared excitedly.

Part 1:

@allforreading-fandomthings @ifeeltheneedtheneedforspeed @llunanocturnaa @thehippievalkilmerlady65

Tagged everyone I thought maybe be interested! 🧡

[put-me-out-of-my-destiny]

One thing I've said before is that if Lady ever got to be playable again, she should be permitted to use items like those that appeared in the classic games, instead of having a DT gauge, just to sell the fact that she is a human being keeping up with the most powerful devils in the world through guile and perseverance.

I figure these are obtained the way Nero obtains Devil Breakers. Lady has a limited inventory that she can stock with items she either finds in levels or purchases at the skill shop.

Being the stand-in for a Devil Trigger, they would be activated with the L1/LB button by default. Items would be selected with the directional pad. Some of the items would also have functions that mimic those of a standard Devil Trigger.

Here's some items I think Lady could have access to:

Vital Star: Returning from the classic games is a green star-shaped crystal, that restores some health upon consumption. If you think it's not in-character for Lady to use a Vital Star, maybe a more sci-fi-themed healing item would be more appropriate.

High-Caliber Ammo: An item that grants a unique power-up for whichever non-Kalina Ann weapon she has equipped. This replaces her charged shots from Devil May Cry 4: Special Edition, which turned her handgun bullets into incendiary or explosive shots, and her shotgun shells into piercing and shredding shots.

Grenade: Exactly what it sounds like. Throwing can be delayed like in many shooter games.

Landmine: A different kind of explosive that activates when an enemy touches it. Can be used to set up combos.

Body Armor: Equipped to grant Lady increased damage resistance, and makes her less vulnerable to flinching or being knocked down. Can only soak up so much damage before breaking.

Jetpack: Can grant Lady a traditional double jump, or an Air Raid-like state that allows her to use her ground attacks from the safety of the air, until it runs out of fuel. The image of Lady and Trish going on a flight together is very cute to me.

Tripod: Allows her to place any non-Kalina Ann weapon in the form of a turret, which will autonomously fire a set number of shots. Lady's weapon will be automatically returned to her inventory once the turret's shots are depleted, once combat ends, or once she places down another turret.

Unnamed speed-boosting drug: Primarily this would increase Lady's movement speed, melee attack speed, and melee damage for a short duration. This would be a pale purple substance that's consumed either through an inhaler or straight-up snorted as powder. This item should also alter Lady's dialogue while it's active, representing a manic and even more violent attitude. To provoke even more concern, perhaps using this item should cause Lady to take a small amount of damage. It should probably add a red tint to the screen too.

And finally, her most powerful item would be a small vehicle, which can be summoned in similar ways to Nightmare from Devil May Cry 5 (air dropped, burrowing from the ground, bursting through a wall, etc.).

I'm imagining this vehicle was made using mechanisms from a dismantled Kalina Ann II, and the original Kalina Ann can interface with it in the same way, granting access to moves like Cascade and Mega Cascade. This vehicle has a limited pool of health, and will explode when its health is depleted, after ejecting Lady.

I haven't settled on a name for the vehicle, but I'm partial to Maddona. According to the wiki, this was another name for the Virgin Mary who, along with Beatrice and St. Lucia (Trish and Lucia's namesakes), aided Dante Alighieri in his journey through hell. It's speculated that the name Madonna is what inspired Lady's chosen name.

[evangelines-garden]

Construct Magic Sorcerer

Prerequisite: To use this sorcerer’s origin, your creature type cannot be humanoid. You must be a construct, elemental, undead, etc.

——————————————————————

Construct Magic Sorcerers are creatures who get their magical power from within. Not because they were born of magic, but because they are made with it. Perhaps you are a former Warlock’s familiar, given to them on high by some dark god, or maybe you are a corpse awakened by a necromancer with no memory of who your body used to be. Or perhaps you are simply the result of a wizard’s spell gone awry. No matter where you came from, you are magic itself given form, and the spells you cast come from the energy your body is made of.

——————————————————————

Constitutes of Energy

Your magic is everything you are. Starting at level 1 when you choose this sorcerous origin, your spellcasting ability becomes Constitution instead of Charisma. Furthermore, your constitution score is increased by 2. It cannot be increased over 20 using this feature.

Shifting Construct

Also at level 1, you gain the ability to change your physical form using your innate magical abilities. Choose one of the following:

Form of Mist: As a bonus action, you may spend 2 sorcery points to transform into a cloud of mist on your turn. While in this state you have a fly speed of 60ft, can use Dash as a bonus action, and you may occupy the same space as another creature if you wish. You may not take attack actions, cast/concentrate on spells, or interact with objects in this state, though you also cannot be targeted by melee or spell attacks. You may not use this feature if you are grappled/your movement is currently 0.

Form of Stone: As a bonus action, you may spend 2 sorcery points to transform into a stone statue on your turn. While in this state, you gain resistances to bludgeoning, slashing, piercing damage, and poison damage. You have advantage on all ability checks/saving throws that involve strength while in this form and you may add your constitution modifier to your AC until you come out of it. Your movement also becomes 20ft and you may not take the dash action.

Form of Swarm: As a bonus action, you may spend 2 sorcery points to transform into a swarm of small insects (ex: locusts, flies, mosquitoes, etc) on your turn. Your swarm size is equal to 5 times your constitution modifier and you gain a fly speed of 30ft. You may occupy the same space as another creature if you wish, in which case it automatically counts as a ranged melee attack (1d4 + your constitution modifier damage). You may interact with objects while in this form, but you cannot cast/concentrate on spells. Furthermore, you may separate your swarm into two equal groups, allowing you to be in two places at once. Both swarms move/attack/act on your turn, however, you may not come out of this form until your swarm has reconstituted with itself.

Form of Fire: As a bonus action, you may spend 2 sorcery points to transform into a roaring fire on your turn. You gain resistance to all non-magical damage types except for Cold, for which you are immune. Furthermore, your body radiates an aura that does 1d8 + your constitution modifier of fire damage to all creatures hostile to you in a 60ft radius at the start of each of your turns. While you cannot concentrate on spells in this form, you may make spell attacks so long as they do fire damage. While in this state, however, your speed is 0.

Form of Water: As a bonus action, you may spend 2 sorcery points to transform into a small stream of water on your turn. Your speed increases 5 and you may take the dodge action as a bonus action. You also gain the ability to heal your allies when necessary. You have a pool of d6s that you spend to fuel this healing. The number of dice in the pool equals 1 + your sorcerer level. The chosen creature you are healing must be within 25ft of you and you regain all expended dice in this pool after a long rest. You may not use this pool to heal yourself.

In order to transform out of your constructed form and return to your regular body, you must use another bonus action on your turn.

Reactive Instincts

You’ve become even more adept with your shape changing abilities. At level 6, on a successful attack made against you, you may use your reaction to transform into your Shifting Construct form (you must still spend the sorcery points necessary to transform). The damage you take from said attack becomes 0, and you stay in this form until the start of your next turn, where you may decide whether you transform back or not. You may use this feature only once per long or short rest.

Evolving Construct

You have so thoroughly mastered your constructed abilities that they begin to bleed into your regular form. At level 14, you gain new abilities based on which Shifting Construct form you chose at level 1. Choose one of the following:

Evolving Mist: (Prequistite: Must have Shifting Construct - Form of Mist) You gain a permanent fly speed of 60ft regardless of what form you’re in. You can no longer be charmed or frightened while in the Form of Mist. Additionally, before transforming into your misty form, you may choose one willing creature within 10ft of you and turn them into mist as well. This creature gains all the benefits of Form of Mist while within 10ft of you, and reconstitutes at the end of their next turn if they are ever more than 10ft from you. They may also use an action to reconstitute to their normal form on their turn if they wish.

Evolving Stone: (Prerequisite: Must have Shifting Construct - Form of Stone) You gain permanent proficiency with Strength saving throws/ability checks regardless of what form you’re in. Additionally, you also gain three charges of the spell Absorb Elements whilst in your stone form. You know this spell innately and it does not count against your spells known. You regain all expended charges of Absorb Elements when you finish a long or short rest.

Evolving Swarm: (Prerequisite: Must have Shifting Construct - Form of Swarm) You become immune to taking fall damage. Additionally, while in your swarm form, the automatic damage you do while in the same space as another creature increases to 2d4 + your constitution modifier. Your swarm size also increases, becoming 10 times your constitution modifier. Enemies cannot take opportunity attacks against you while you are in your swarm form.

Evolving Fire: (Prerequisite: Must have Shifting Construct - Form of Fire) You gain permanent resistance to fire damage regardless of what form you’re in. Additionally, your speed whilst in your Fire form increases to 15ft, and you burn everything in your path whilst you move. Any creatures within 5ft of you while you move must make a dexterity saving throw against your spell save DC or take 1d4 Fire damage as you pass by. This includes non-hostile creatures/allies. Your aura increases its damage to 1d12 + your constitution modifier.

Evolving Water: (Prerequisite: Must have Shifting Construct - Form of water) You may take the dodge action as a bonus action regardless of what form you’re in. Additionally, while in your water form, you gain three charges of the spell Ice Knife. You know this spell innately and it does not count against your spells known. You regain all expended charges after a long or short rest. Your healing pool’s dice type also increases from d6s to d8s.

The amount of sorcery points you use to transform into your Shifting Construct form doubles at this level as well if you take this feature.

Ever-Shifting Construct (Optional)

Instead of taking the Evolving Construct feature at level 14, you may take this feature instead. You gain none of the benefits or abilities from Evolving Construct if you do.You may choose 1 additional form from Shifting Construct.

Constructed Control

At level 18, your mastery over the physical form can extend far outside yourself. Once per day, you may make a spell attack against one humanoid creature with 120ft of you that you can see that has half their hit points or less. On a successful attack against that creature, you may spend 10 sorcery points and turn them into an inanimate object. What kind of object is up to the DM’s discretion/rolled on the table of trinkets. The turned creature cannot make attacks, either melee or spell, cannot move, and cannot take any actions outside of a Wisdom saving throw to undo their transformation at the end of their turn. They lose all concentration on any spells they had cast and automatically lose any checks/saving throws required of them outside of the aforementioned wisdom saving throw. their HP/AC remain the same as they were the moment they were turned. A creature turned this way cannot be affected by an Animate Objects spell and is entirely aware of their surroundings the entire time they are turned.