#aerial combining

[rmspeltzfarm]

Combining Beans

[zipmode]

I love to make a guy with a whimsical as fuck design and then make their main expressions -_- and >:/

[mars-gallavanger]

[snivy1245]

Here's my shelf displays.

I've had the Combiner Wars figures since the line was on shelves, I got the Classics Magnus from a charity store at the beginning of COVID, and the Earthrise Prime and Legacy Iguanus are new acquisitions. I got Aerial Rebuild last year, and I'd love to get a Calibarn but I can't find them anywhere.

[scarefox]

(x)

[meriol-lehmann]

moissonneuse-batteuse, chemin de la rivière-delisle, coteau-du-lac

[eyefocusing]

when i finally get a g1 superion im gonna be unstoppable

[droneshotmediany]

[crevicedwelling]

as promised, the owlfly (family Ascalaphidae) I found in Singapore!

if you’re familiar with antlions, these work similarly, except instead of building a pit they rely on camouflage to hide from predators and ambush prey. a beautiful combination of lichen-y fringes and wickedly sharp mandibles.

it blended in perfectly with the mossy rope railing, even tucking back its mandibles at a 270° angle so that they lay hidden beneath the head.

it was one of several successful “oh-wait-was-that-a-bug-let’s-go-back-and-check” moments I had, and was glad I doubled back to see it for what it was! my first owlfly, now I’ve got to find an adult, which are dragonfly-like aerial predators

[probablyasocialecologist]

The vast majority (99%) of the 281,000 metric tonnes of carbon dioxide (CO2 equivalent) estimated to have been generated in the first 60 days following the 7 October Hamas attack can be attributed to Israel’s aerial bombardment and ground invasion of Gaza, according to a first-of-its-kind analysis by researchers in the UK and US. According to the study, which is based on only a handful of carbon-intensive activities and is therefore probably a significant underestimate, the climate cost of the first 60 days of Israel’s military response was equivalent to burning at least 150,000 tonnes of coal. The analysis, which is yet to be peer reviewed, includes CO2 from aircraft missions, tanks and fuel from other vehicles, as well as emissions generated by making and exploding the bombs, artillery and rockets. It does not include other planet-warming gases such as methane. Almost half the total CO2 emissions were down to US cargo planes flying military supplies to Israel. Hamas rockets fired into Israel during the same period generated about 713 tonnes of CO2, which is equivalent to approximately 300 tonnes of coal – underscoring the asymmetry of each side’s war machinery.

[...]

David Boyd, the UN special rapporteur for human rights and the environment, said: “This research helps us understand the immense magnitude of military emissions – from preparing for war, carrying out war and rebuilding after war. Armed conflict pushes humanity even closer to the precipice of climate catastrophe, and is an idiotic way to spend our shrinking carbon budget.”

[...]

Even without comprehensive data, one recent study found that militaries account for almost 5.5% of global greenhouse gas emissions annually – more than the aviation and shipping industries combined. This makes the global military carbon footprint – even without factoring in conflict-related emission spikes – the fourth largest after only the US, China and India.

[cosmal]

waitttt aerial writing poly!marauders?? omg. how about them looking after sick or injured reader I feel like that could be so cute!!!! they’re all worrywart bfs tbh

emergency contact

summary james gets called when you faint at work. and then sirius. then remus. you feel awful

content poly!marauders x fem!reader

note this was combined with another request. I accidentally deleted it I'm super sorry but it was a request for poly x fem!reader where the boys come to your work after fainting!

You feel really embarrassed sitting at the end of the bar, ice pack held to your head, mouth wrapped around the straw in your drink.

Your embarrassment turns to worry when you see James walking across the room. He’s rushing, hair a mess, mud tracked up his calves. He’s still in his rugby kit.

You turn your head to look at your colleague. “Ash, you told me you wouldn’t call anyone!” You’re not really upset, you feel like a bit of a nuisance.

“It’s procedure, Y/N. I’m sorry.” She doesn’t sound very sorry. You don’t blame her.

“Sweetheart,” he says when he reaches you. He’s frantic, soft about it, but still upset. “Are you okay? They told me you fainted.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say instead of a hello. You feel entirely stupid.

“What?” He grasps your shoulder and squeezes hard. “What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I feel bad,” you say quietly, voice a little thick. You screw your face up and your head tinges. A dull pain that radiates down into the back of your skull.

“Please, don’t.” He says. Firm with a hint of worry he’s trying to mask. If James cries you think you might too, and you really wouldn’t put it past him.

You drop the pack to the bar and take his hand, fingers damp with condensation that transfers to his palm. “I’m fine. Promise.”

“You bumped your head?” He uses his free hand to hold your face, careful where he has his fingers. His eyes track over your face to search for any harm. You’re blood-free, luckily, though there’s a red mark blooming up and into your hairline. Most likely to bruise.

“Yeah.” Your eyes flutter closed because you can’t help it.

“You’re not feeling drowsy?” comes James’s voice.

“No, feels nice,” you chuckle, a tiny huff of air. “Your hands are warm.”

You don’t expect it, but suddenly, you’re hearing Sirius’s worried voice come from the other side of the room. You crane your head around James' broad shoulders to see him, haloed by the light coming through the front door.

“Why is he here?” you mumble, feeling worse by the second. It comes out worse than it sounded in your head.

Apparently, he hears you. “He is here because James had to call him.” He hugs you almost immediately. Big, warm hands come around to cage you in against his chest. You hide the good side of your face into his neck and huff. “Do you not want me here?”

You pull back quickly and really regret it. Blinking back the hot, pinching pain in your face. “What? No, I’m just…ugh.”

Sirius pouts, then hums a sympathetic noise from the back of his throat. He keeps his hands on your shoulders. “It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry about it, yeah?”

You close your eyes and incline your head to lean it down on his ringed-up hand. Your cheek all smooshed up against him.

“Is she okay?” You hear him ask James. He hums a yes. “She’s not concussed?”

“She doesn’t think so,” he says.

“She is right here,” you mumble. You pull back from his chest and swing your legs over the chair.

"I'm sorry, lovely." He looks like he wants to hug you again. "You're okay? Had some water?"

You nod. "Just really wanna go home."

"All right, let's go, yeah?" James takes your elbow to help you off the stool, and Sirius steadies you by the shoulder. It's kind of adorable how gentle they're being with you. Soft hands and pinched brows. They both make a funny sound when you wobble a little.

James grabs your bag and throws it over his shoulder and you all leave.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," you say before you get to the door. "Were you at work? You won't get in trouble for leaving, will you?"

"No, it's okay. Don't worry about that." He smiles.

You will. You'll no doubt feel bad for the rest of the week.

You bump into Remus on your way out. He holds the door open for you. He looks like he's run up the block. "Rem, baby, they didn't call you too?" You're not sure why you hadn't expected it. If he wasn't here, he'd definitely feel horrible.

"Dove, you're okay?" he pants. He holds your face in his hands and you try not to cry. You're not sure if having them all here makes you feel better or worse. "God, I was so worried."

The first tear leaves a hot track down your cheek. You push yourself into Remus's chest instead of answering and wrap your hands around his waist. He crosses his arms over your back.

He moves you out of the way of the entrance and you scuffle along with him. Your tears are slow, dampening his shirt, catching the brunt of your upset. You don't make any horrible sounds, just quiet, sticky tears.

He encourages your face back with a firm, pinching hand. You blink back the end of your cries. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare everyone."

"Don't worry," he says, corners of his mouth trembling into a sad smile. "It's all good. As long as you're okay."

"I just," you take a stuttering breath, "just got really tired. I probably shouldn't have worked today."

Sirius kisses the end of your eyebrow, right across your temple. "You've been working a bit too much, I think."

"I didn't ruin anyone's day?" You sniffle way too sadly for anyone's opinion. Remus squeezes you closer with almost bruising fingertips.

"No, lovely," James says, sticky smile gracing his lips. "Don't worry about it, okay? We just wanted to be here for you. That's our job."

"Right," you say, voice catching at the end.

Sirius shucks your jacket on for you as the wind outside picks up. "Speaking of being here for you," he says. "Is James your emergency contact?"

"No, you all are," you tell him, a hint of laughter in your words.

"Right."

Then, you start actually laughing. "Was he the only one to pick up?"

"I think so," he joins in.

"What if it was serious?" Suddenly, you're teasing.

"It was serious!" Remus balks.

"You didn't answer the phone!"

Everyone goes quiet. You burst out into the biggest fit of giggles, smiling so widely it hurts. "I'm kidding!" you say, struggling to speak. "God, stop. Look at your faces! Stop - stop it, my head hurts."

James cages you in against his chest, stealing you from Remus. "My poor baby," he coos. "Oh, they're awful, awful boyfriends."

"Fuck off," Sirius grumbles. "Just cause you're always on your phone."

"Don't listen to them, honey." He's awful. "You comin' in my car?"

"If you stop being mean, then yeah."

"Yeah, you fuckin' tell him, Y/N." Comes Remus's grumpy voice.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Welcome to the castle. Isn't the entrance to the property grand? The 2002 home in Indiana, PA has 5bds, 4.5ba, $1.2M.

I was not particularly impressed by the entrance hall, but there are other features in the home that are amazing.

Check out the wooden dragon on the right. The gray doors, however, look like the entrance to a gymnasium.

Yet, there are stone arches and a little gargoyle in this room.

The eat-in kitchen is huge.

It has lots of cabinets and a gothic window over the sink. I don't care for the wallpaper, though.

The dining room has this exquisitely carved fireplace. I hate the dining room set, though, in front of that gorgeous fireplace.

This is such a gigantic family room.

Check out the chainmail light fixture.

At the top of the stairs, you can see two balconies.

This is a separate sitting room for the primary bedroom.

The primary bedroom also has a loft and a fireplace waaay over there. Does anyone know what that red contraption with the roof is?

I'm not impressed with the primary en-suite.

Upstairs in the loft, there's a hot tub room.

Here's an attractive room.

This very large bedroom has a nice walk-in closet.

I wonder if the tree in this bath conveys.

And, this is the bike room.

Combination game room/gym.

Outdoors there's a patio.

Lovely stone wall around the yard and a beautiful fountain.

It's nice back here.

Aerial view of the private yard.

It comes with 58.17 acres of land. Actually, this is a bargain- you get the castle and all that land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1621-Lions-Health-Camp-Rd-Indiana-PA-15701/78646673_zpid/

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik misunderstands Soap's call sign. Ends up in a little heart to heart with Gaz.

CW: none.

They're back at base after a particularly gnarly jaunt through the arse end of the world. Ghost has his arm in a sling, Soap's battered, Price has an ice pack against his lower back, and Gaz has a black eye and lost a molar after taking a rifle butt to the jaw during a scuffle. Nik's sitting rosey for the most part; his bird has a few extra bullet holes but he'd soon patch those up.

They end up in the hanger after medical has finished with them, too exhausted even to drag their arses to bed. They pass around a bottle of Ghost's bourbon, while Nik and Price share a cigar. They're sitting in companionable silence, reflecting on how close they'd come to a six foot and a half wooden box planted in the only bit of real estate they'd ever be able to afford on an army salary, and then...

"Nik," Soap says as he swirls the bourbon around in its bottle, "s'yer call sign, aye? Not yer birth name."

"Da," Nik replies, offering nothing more as he exhales a cloud of smoke and passes the cigar over his shoulder to Price. They're sitting back to back, because it lets Price keep the ice pack in place without holding it, no other reason.

Soap relinquishes the bottle into Gaz's custody and sniffs, leaning back on his palms, legs thrown across at the ankle. "Where's it come from?"

"It is from Nikolai Krasnov. He was a hero fighter pilot in the Second World War. Four hundred sorties, one hundred aerial battles and forty-one enemies shot down," Nik considers the tumbler of vodka in front of him; he doesn't drink bourbon because it gives him heartburn, "also Nikolai Gastello, Nikolai Gusarov... All awarded highest honours. It is a name with, what do you say, a pedigree."

"That's pretty cool, N--" Gaz starts, but Soap scoffs, taking the bourbon back.

"Mate, n'aw, that's proper old man that is. Yer half way t' watchin' the History Channel on a recliner."

Nik raises an eyebrow. "Is better than all of you."

"Oh aye?"

"Da. Price is Bravo-Six because he is boring," Nik says, and Price nods solemnly, clearly a little banjaxed on a combination of the vodka Nik is sharing with him and the bourbon that crosses his path every now and then. Nik gestures at Ghost. "He is Ghost, which is like a James Bond novel villain, no?" Ghost's eyes flicker, "Gaz is new... He gets a pass--"

"Cheers, Nik."

"--you are welcome sergeant, and you," Nik points two fingers at Soap, "you are Soap because you are the lieutenant's bottom."

Soap sprays bourbon through his nose, Gaz barks a laugh and then creases over in stitches, and Price chokes on the lungful of cigar smoke he's halfway through. Ghost pinches his nose through his mask.

"Fuckin' hell, Nik, I can't--I can't breathe!" Gaz rolls onto his back, arms clasped over his abdomen.

Soap blusters. "Oh aye, feckin hilarious. How'd ye figure that one out then?"

"When your diet is as bad as yours, there is a need to--"

"Nik! Tha's not--I mean, me and him, how'd'ye get that in yer heid?"

Nik glances between Soap and Ghost like they're pulling one over on him. "The flirting over the radio, you are always together, you are grumpy when apart, you--Captain, you--"

Price blows a puff of smoke towards the roof of the hanger and passes the remains of the cigar over his shoulder. "Nope, nah," he flaps a hand, hiccups, and rolls onto his front like he's about to low-crawl his way out. "You're on your own 'ere, mate, urgh, fuck... Need a slash... then bed."

"Coward," Nik huffs.

"Yep." Price stumbles to his feet, nearly nuts the tail of the helicopter they're sitting near, and hobbles away with a quiet groan, leaving Nik to face down a red-eared Soap and a stoic Ghost; Gaz is cackling into the bottle of bourbon.

"Nah, he's right, time to call it a night. We're up at 0600 for a debrief," Ghost says finally.

Nik frowns. "Lieutenant, I am sorry if I have offended. I have clearly misread the situation, and--"

"Soap got his call sign because he's good at cleaning house; he's quick, accurate," Ghost rolls to his feet with remarkable grace considering his injury and the volume of bourbon currently in his bloodstream, "besides, I would bottom. I have impeccable gut health."

Soap barks a laugh. "Eh, good one, L.T.." Ghost looks at him; it's a lingering, rather hungry gaze that stretches a little beyond their usual homoerotic banter, but he says nothing and turns before Soap can fully digest it. Soap's smile vanishes into wide-eyed bewilderment, and he stumbles to his feet, calling after Ghost with one outstretched hand. "Oi, sir... Ye... Sir, for real? Was that a--? L.T., wait up. Sir!"

Gaz and Nik watch them leave, and once Ghost's plentiful arse and Soap's flailing self are out of sight, Gaz grins. "Hollow points, RVs and relationships, best fixer in the biz. Well played."

Nik grins back and they clink their bottles together. "It was too good an opportunity."

"Excellent form, mate. Is there anythin' you can't fix?"

Nik hums as he swigs his vodka, glancing towards the door that Price had vanished through moments prior. Gaz sighs. "Oh yeah, how's it going with the captain? You taken him on a date yet?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Mate, mate, being between you two when it's just us three on ops is cringe. Not quite as bad as them," Gaz juts his chin after Ghost and Soap, "but fuck me, I could puke."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be. You're an open book. Captain Oblivious needs to open his eyes. Could shoot a gnat's bollocks off at a thousand metres but he misses you chasing his tail like a puppy. It's insane."

Nik huffs. "I have asked Laswell for advice."

"Oh yeah? I bet she loved that."

"She has said he has a phrase... What is it, 'you should not shit where you eat'," Nik says sadly.

"Oof, yeah, that sounds like Price," Gaz pats Nik on the back of the shoulder, "so, what? Calling off the mission?"

"Nyet, never. I am Russian; the pining and heartbreak, it is all part of the romance. But I will only take a happy ending, no tragedy. Price will be mine."

Gaz laughs. "Fair," he raises his bottle in a toast, "to romance and happy endings."

Nik meets Gaz's bottle. "Of all kinds, my brother." He wriggles his eyebrows and Gaz cracks up cackling again.

[tallulah477]

Pretty, But Not Stupid

Extra of Hunting the Tawtute

Kinkmas Day 10: Breath Play

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Breath Play, Choking, Size Difference, Alien Genitalia, Oral (male receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Scenting, Mention of knots (but no knotting yet), Slight threesome (and Dark!Neteyam), Mentions of death/dead bodies, Reader is not having a good time (although idk...i think she’s having a great time), Mentions of war

A/N: Guess who’s back, besties!! Been MIA, slacking on prompts, and about to lose my fucking mind with all my family around, but I somehow got this done and I’m about to read as many fics as I can before someone else demands my attention.

A/N 2: This was not intended to be a full Part 2 yet, but it's way too long to be called a drabble. So I’m calling it an extra for now until I decide what to call it lmao. Hope y’all like it 🧡

A/N 3: DEDICATED TO @oakbuggy AND THEIR AMAZING ARTWORK (Everyone stop reading and go look at their art rn, all of them are god-tier but the one for Hunting the Tawtute definitely holds a special place in my heart. Thank you again, Buggy! You're amazing!)

Summary: With their father’s impending retirement as Olo’eyktan, Neteyam has more responsibilities to the clan and less time to see his favorite human. Thankfully, Lo’ak is there to pick up the slack.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Vrrtep - Demon

Tawtute - Human

Sevin - Pretty

Palulukan - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

(Mountain) Banshee/Ikran - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Mawey - Calm

Narlor - Beautiful

Tam tam - Calm, be content, there there

Srane - Yes

Yawne - Beloved

Paskalin - Sweet berry (term of endearment)

Their father is stepping down as clan leader - at least that’s what Lo’ak tells you when he comes to visit you in the isolated hut the brothers have set up for you on the side of a cliff face. It was for your own protection, they told you. You couldn’t stay in the village yet, their father would never allow it, and you clearly couldn’t be trusted not to run away if they built you something on the forest floor. 

“Tawtutes with their tiny brains are stupid,” Neteyam had sneered as he hauled your combined weight up the cliff side. Your arms locked around his neck tightly, legs wrapped around his lithe torso as your eyes squeezed shut, determined not to look at the insane height you were being pulled to. “You might think to run away and then become the next meal of a hungry Palulukan.”

“Nah, bro,” Lo’ak said, the grin on his face audible in his teasing words as he climbed up the cliff behind you, ready to catch you if you decided to end it all right there and try your hand at plummeting to your death, no doubt. “Our little vrrtep would never run from us. Right, sevin?”

The hut they built for you was as cozy as it could be. Assembled further into the cave and away from the treacherous cliff side, thick material wrapped around sturdy posts to keep out any harsh weather that the cave itself couldn’t keep out. They’d given you plenty of blankets, assuring you that even though your human nose can’t smell it, their scent is all over them.

“To keep you smelling like us, when we can’t be here to do it ourselves.”

But they’re always around, day after day they come for you. Lo’ak grinning a deceivingly sweet smile and Neteyam’s amber eyes burning holes into your face as they grab at you, pulling you towards them as they all but rip off the loincloth and chest covering they gave you, baring your marked up body to their hungry gazes. They spread you open, fucking you and fucking you until you’re a crying overstimulated mess, drooling and teary under your mask as they fill you up. 

They know exactly how to touch you, where to press, where to rub, where you’re most sensitive. They learned how to play with your body better than you could ever know how, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling, exhausted body until your left limp and they’ve decided they’ve had enough for the day. 

Your body still struggles to take their cocks (although they love to tell you that you were made for it - “made to be our little cocksleeve”). Your only saving grace is that they’re still not sure if they can knot you. They’ve gotten close to trying, instincts desperate to push that large ball of tissue at the base of their cocks inside your already stuffed to the brim pussy. You feel how they test the resistance, pushing juuuusttt a little deeper, the swollen knot stretching you even farther than you ever thought you could stretch before they back off. 

When they fill you full of their cum, it’s with their own hand squeezing tightly around the knot. 

Usually, it’s both of them. This time, you’re shocked to see only Lo’ak climbing over the edge of the cliff. 

“Neteyam sends his regrets,” Lo’ak says, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your body and press his face into your neck. His flat nose presses against your rapidly increasing pulse point and breathes in your scent. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry he won’t be able to visit you today, but that he’ll make sure to come see your pretty face and fill your tight pussy tomorrow.”

Your face flushes hot at his words, shivering when his nose slides up to nudge just behind your ear, but you stay silent. 

“But that’s good news for me,” He continues. “Because that means I get you all to myself for tonight.”

Neteyam isn’t coming to visit you today because their father is stepping down as clan leader, which means increased training, more hours at council meetings, and less time to sneak off with his captive human. 

“What does that mean?” You can’t help but ask. Lo’ak’s hands smooth down your sides, large palms dragging over your bare skin until they’re squeezing your ass. Your voice cracks at the feel, but you push on, your eyes doing their best to keep contact with his bright amber ones. “Your father stepping down? What does that . . .” 

What does that mean for me?

“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” He says.

Without warning, he stands, pulling you with him so your legs wrap around his torso as he supports you with a hand on your ass. A loud yip rips from his throat, echoing through the cave as he walks you both towards the cliff’s edge. The responding roaring shriek makes you cower against him as the large dragon-like animal lands on the platform behind you, wings flapping hard against the wind. 

“We’re going on an adventure,” Lo’ak says as he walks you closer to the banshee. You whimper, arms locking around his neck so tight you’d think you would be choking him if you could think straight. But you’re not, head whipped around staring wide eyed at the monstrous creature as it turns its head sideways to stare back at you. 

“Lo’ak, no,” You beg through gritted teeth, but he ignores you as he approaches the banshee, his hand settling lovingly on its snout. 

“Mawey,” he coos, carefully rubbing along the blue leathery skin on the banshee’s snout, but you’re not sure if he’s trying to calm the large animal or you. “Mawey, narlor,”

“Lo’ak, no,” You plead, still clinging to his upper body. Tears pool in your eyes and a panicked whimper escapes your lips when you feel the puffing breath of the mountain banshee on your back. “Please, please, no!”

But you’re ignored again, even when your body goes rigid at the feel of that rounded snout pressing against the curve of your spine, hot exhales practically burning your skin as the banshee sniffs at you. Fuck, fuck–you could die. Right now, you could die in a second, that snout pressing into your skin could disappear, replaced with dual rows of long curved teeth that would take only a second to open and bite down and rip you clean in half. 

You can hear the smile in Lo’ak’s voice from where your mask is digging into his collarbone, his soft murmurs of encouragement loud even through your terrified thoughts. “Srane, tam tam. Look at my two beautiful girls, getting along so well.”

He moves swiftly, not leaving room for any more pleading as he bonds with his banshee and climbs on, bringing your clinging body with him. The rush of air as the large animal takes flight makes you squeeze Lo’ak tighter, desperate for safety as you feel the wind bat at your back as the banshee cuts through the sky like a bullet from a gun. 

“Is this all it takes for you to cling to me, sevin?” Lo’ak teases as he rests a secure hand on your trembling figure, all five fingers spread so wide that they nearly span the entirety of your back. “A little ikran ride and I get you all cuddled up, nice and close?”

You ignore his dig, teeth clenching together as you fight to find your voice around the wind rushing around your ears. “W-where are we going?”

Lo’ak nudges his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll see,”

The flight feels like hours. Hours of watching miles and miles of trees and forest thousands of meters below from over Lo’ak’s shoulder. Logically, you know you’re exaggerating. It hasn’t been hours, and even though you’re still high enough to die as a splat on the ground if you were to fall, it's probably not as high as it feels. But heights have never been your friend, and frankly, neither has time management. 

It’s only when the banshee lowers to the ground and Lo’ak dismounts, depositing you on your own two unsteady feet, that you realize where he’s brought you on your ‘adventure’. 

Your mouth opens in horror at the remains of your old home. The RDA outpost, a once tall and strong fortress that housed the lives of hundreds of humans, now practically nothing more than a heap of rubble. The walls once meant to provide safety to those within them have crumbled down, victims of their own explosives used against them by the enemy. Debris lines the paved ground, thick boulders and metal platings that were once walls, bullet shells glinting in the sunlight. There’s a few AMP suits scattered around the battlefield - you can’t see inside them from your vantage point, and you’re terrified of what you might see if you get too close. 

“This way, tawtute,” Lo’ak says, reaching for your hand, but you yank it away before he can grab it. 

“No,” You say, but the firmness in your voice is overshadowed by the shakiness. “No, I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are,”

Another headshake. “No,”

Quick as lightning, his hand shoots out and grabs the bottom of your mask, gripping on the valve at the bottom as he bends down so his face is level with yours.

“Demon,” He growls, fangs on display for just a moment. A warning. “You are pretty, but not stupid. You do as I say.”

Fear claws at your throat and your hands immediately latch onto his wrist, silently begging for him to not pull your mask off. He never does, and neither does Neteyam. Not as a punishment at least. When they use your mouth, there’s always a warning - a “hold your breath, yawne,” before the air is cut off from your lungs and your mouth is full of alien cock. But the fear never leaves, the possibility is always there at the forefront of your mind, and you cling to his wrist like the lifeline it is. 

Lo’ak’s face softens at your expression, grip loosening from your mask as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. “You know I would never hurt you. You need to trust me,”

Hesitantly, you shake your head again. You’re pushing your luck, you know it. But you’ve learned Lo’ak is the more lenient of the brothers and will tolerate more ‘disobedience’ than Neteyam will. “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can. Nothing in there will hurt you. If anyone is left in there, they’re dead,”

And that’s the problem. The terror of facing the place where life as you knew it was ended in a heartbeat. If there’s still people in there, people you once knew, people you talked to, some people who were good, lying on the ground . . . lifeless . . .

In the end, it’s not a choice. Lo’ak sighs, pulling you back in his arms and cradling you to his chest like a toddler. You sniffle, eyes sliding shut, determined to not watch as he walks you towards the remains of the outpost. 

It’s hard to admit, but being carried by the brothers can be really soothing if you let it. They move swiftly, with grace and confidence in every step, careful not to jostle you despite the usually uneven terrain of the forest. It’s even smoother now as Lo’ak walks across the flat pavement of the base. If you close your eyes, it can almost feel like you’re floating.

There’s a loud chu-chunk sound followed by the rapid hiss of air and the loss of sunlight behind your closed lids. You open your eyes to see that Lo’ak has found a still intact entrance, the airlock working to adjust the oxygen levels to whatever lies beyond the interior door. He smiles when the pressure stabilizes, opening the door and stepping into the inside of the base. This time, he doesn’t warn you when he pulls off your mask, the sound of escaping air hitting your ears, but you don’t choke. Instead you can breathe, deep complete breaths without the need for a mask covering your face. 

Lo’ak wastes no time nuzzling his face against yours, sliding his cheek across every new inch of face and neck that he can comfortably reach, a deep content rumble vibrating through his chest. 

Scenting you. 

“I can smell you,” He whispers, lips pressing against your cheek. “Not just you right now, but where you were, where you’ve been, here, within these walls.”

“W-what?”

His feet carry him, guided by an old scent that you can hardly believe is here after so long. But it is, it has to be - you know the journey, have walked it hundreds of times during your time on Pandora, but you can’t imagine that Lo’ak would. You don’t think he ever went inside the outpost during the attack. He shouldn’t know that it's the second hallway instead of the first, shouldn’t know it’s two left turns and one right, and that your door is the 3rd on the left. But he does. 

He even knows which bed was yours and which was your roommate’s, only confirmed when he drops you down onto the thin RDA issued mattress against the far side wall. You land with a yelp, bouncing slightly from the force of the drop, but your noise of surprise is cut off by Lo’ak’s lips against yours.

“Stupid humans,” He growls against your lips. “Can't even breathe air without help. Wish I could teach you, so I wouldn’t have to go without your pretty lips on mine every day.”

You whine into the kiss, his big lips nearly twice the size of yours as they capture your mouth completely. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you, but it’s the first time you can breathe while it happens. 

He pulls away after a few more kisses, his breathing shallow as he reaches for something tied to his loincloth. It’s only then that you see the CO2 mask that’s been attached to his hip this whole time. He pulls the cross strap around his body, the mask hanging low on his chest and the CO2 canister hanging around his hip. He brings the mask to his face with one hand, taking in a few deep breaths, while the other hand works at the ties on his loincloth. 

The material of his covering falls to the ground and he drops the mask in favor of gripping your chin, thumb rubbing soothingly across your cheek. 

“Someone wants to play with you,” He purrs. “Be a good girl and invite him out, okay?”

Your breathing is shaky as you rise up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as you come face to face with the flat plane hiding Lo’ak’s cock. His hand moves to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your lips press against the smooth space between his thighs. 

Experience has you knowing what to do now, how to hold onto his thighs with both hands to keep yourself steady as you pepper gentle kisses along the hidden slit. Lo’ak tips his head back at the feel of your tongue sliding along the seam, little teasing kitten licks against the engorging slit that are always from him demanding them, demanding the slower teasing buildup, rather than you being coy. 

He pushes your face harder against him, hissing a ‘yeah, good girl. Like you fucking mean it,’ as he urges you to lick him deeper. When his slit opens, puffy and dripping, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as the sweet taste of his slick coats your tastebuds. It controls your body, whatever is in the slick. You feel it, making your body heat up, making you want things you definitely don’t - and you’re in the thick of it now, no mask or breathing breaks to cut whatever effects it usually has on you. It sets your body on fire now, making your thighs clench together as wetness pools in your core, and your brain fuzzes as the first touch of Lo’ak’s cock teases your lips as it starts to slip past the slit. 

You don’t know how long he keeps you there, sucking his cock. He’s dragging it out, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he has now of you without your mask. He drags your mouth along his cock, staring down at you with hooded eyes and letting you suckle gently on the lavender tip. Sometimes he’ll growl, pushing you down harder on his length just to hear you gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Other times he’ll pull you off completely, twisting your head so that your lips wrap around his girth from the side, before sliding you slowly back and forth along his length, tongue running over each and every bump and barb along the hot cerulean skin, the bright bioluminescent freckles decorating his cock practically shining under the layer of slick and saliva. 

When he’s finally used you to tease himself enough, he pushes you back flat on the bed, large hands wrapping around your calves and pulling you closer so your ass is just barely hanging off the side. You whimper when he pulls your legs apart, ripping the soaked loincloth from your body, hungry amber eyes staring at your swollen, wet cunt.

“Such a pretty girl,” He moans. The tip of his cock slides along your folds, nudging against your clit before sliding back down and positioning at your entrance. “You ready?”

Your brain is fuzzy and your clit is throbbing, hole clenching with the need to be filled. You close your eyes, looking away from his intense gaze - you don’t want it, you try to remind yourself, you don’t, he’s making you. But a swift smack on your thigh makes your eyes fly open again, Lo’ak’s hard gaze seeming to cut into your very soul.

“Say it, demon. Wanna hear you say it,”

A small cry escapes your lips, body unconsciously trying to bear down on his cock even as you shake your head. He shifts forward just the tiniest bit, lavender tip just barely pressing against your drooling hole enough for it to start to stretch before stopping again. 

“‘Need you, Lo'ak,” he recites, brow cocked, expecting you to repeat it. “Say it.”

“Fuck!” Is what comes out instead - a whiny, frustrated curse, that has your eyes tearing up again and Lo’ak’s ears pinning back against his skull.

His hand is quick to wrap around your throat, fingers digging into the blood vessels at the side of your neck as he hisses down at you. Your hands wrap around his wrist again, fingernails digging in and no doubt leaving red crescent shaped marks in the blue skin. He’s not squeezing your neck, not crushing your windpipe out of anger. You can breathe, the gulping breaths your gasping for are making it into your lungs, but the fingers pressing into the blood vessels make it feel like you can’t. Your head is clouding again, fuzzing like TV static, vision going blurry as his hand doesn’t relent. 

“Fine,” He grunts. “You don’t wanna talk? Don’t.”

You want to scream when he pushes forward, cock bullying its way past your entrance and inside you, stretching you and filling you up. It’s slow and torturous as he fills you impossibly full, the barbs along his length scraping ruthlessly against your slick walls. He sighs, ears flicking in pleasure as your heat envelopes him, stretching around his girth so perfectly he swears you were made for him. 

You can feel the bulge in your belly, the pressure disappearing and reappearing again as he begins to move inside of you. Long, purposeful strokes meant as a punishment, meant to make you feel every agonizingly blissful inch of him as he fucks into your soaked cunt, harder and harder with each thrust. Your mouth moves trying to form words, sound fleeting save for the barely there whispers of ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’. Lo’ak hears them anyway, leaning down to silence you with a filthy kiss. His hips pound against yours, unrelenting in their mission to completely fuck the soul of your body, and the sound of slapping skin against skin mix with Lo’ak’s groans and your barely audible breathy whines. 

Lo’ak’s fingers find their way to your swollen clit, rubbing persistently at the sensitive nub until you're crying into his mouth, thighs trying desperately to close together but can’t because of his body between them. The thick press of his knot against your entrance is what pushes your oversensitive body over the edge.

At the first suffocating clench of your pussy around his cock, Lo’ak releases your throat letting all the air it felt like you weren’t getting back into your lungs in a rush of oxygen. You gasp, crying against his lips as you arch up against him, creaming pussy fluttering around him as you cum on his cock. He growls when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, blunt teeth digging in enough to draw blood, but the way he immediately grabs your hips, shoving his knot against you as hard as he would dare without actually penetrating you, tells you that it was a lust filled growl this time, not an angry one. 

He moans when he spills himself inside you, face pressed against your neck as he fills you up. You swear it feels almost scorching hot, heating you up from the inside and then out as it spills from around Lo’ak’s still buried cock and runs down the curve of your ass and onto the bed sheets. 

Someone clears their throat from behind Lo’ak, and you gasp at the sudden sound, frantically trying to look around Lo’ak’s hulking body to see who it is. 

Lo’ak sighs, undisturbed by sudden intrusion, even going as far as rolling his eyes before slowly pulling out of your used cunt - more of his cum spilling out onto the bed now that he’s not still inside you to keep it in. “Wasn’t expecting you today, bro,”

Your eyes widen when he moves out of the way, revealing a smug looking Neteyam in the doorway, still very much dressed up in his warrior’s gear. 

“I had to make time to see our pretty little demon,” Neteyam says, bright amber eyes sweeping over your exhausted form. He crosses the room with three long strides, one knee pressing into the bed as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was a nice show. I know you’re tired, paskalin,”

His eyes meet yours, amber irises practically swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils. A hand presses against your belly, sneaking down towards your oversensitive pussy, his pointer finger reaching out to tap against your clit as you whine. 

“But it’s really not fair that you smell more like Lo’ak than me now, is it?”

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @pandoraslxna @avatarwifey

[hawkatana]

So, given everything that's happened in recent hours, I thought I might give people who don't know about Gundam some stuff to learn about. Hopefully I can give a balanced and not-racist take like some people.

What is Gundam?

Created by Yoshiyuki Tomino with help by Yoshikazu Yasuhiko and animated by the studio Sunrise (currently Bandai Namco Animation, though I refuse to call them that), the original Mobile Suit Gundam released in 1979 to initially-limited success, though would gain popularity through a combination of fujoshis shipping the characters, the sale of plastic model kits referred to as "Gunpla" and a recut of the series into three compilation movies throughout the early 80's. And as of 2024 is the 66th highest-grossing media franchise of all time, beating out Scooby Doo, Minecraft and the Simpsons.

Also, I'm pretty sure it's what sparked Japanese sci-fi's obsession with O'Neill Cylinders.

The original anime takes place in the year 0079 of the Universal Century, where the Principality of Zeon: a nation composed of orbital space colonies declares a war of independence against the Earth Federation. This "One Year War" has already claimed half the human population by series start and is waged through the use of "Mobile Suits": bipedal mecha powered by a fusion reactor capable of effectively fighting out in the reaches of space.

Main character Amuro Ray is the son of a Federation engineer who lives in an out-of-the-way space colony, though soon finds his home under attack by a Zeon infiltration. After finding the secret Mobile Suit project his father was working on: the RX-78-2 Gundam, he fights off the Zeon invaders, though finds himself and a bunch of other kids conscripted by the Federation to fight the forces of Zeon aboard the ship the White Base. Throughout his journey, Amuro and the Gundam fight many battles against Zeon, including against their mysterious masked ace pilot Char Aznable.

The series was responsible for the codification (but not creation, people get this wrong all the time) of the "Real Robot" subgenre of mecha, where the robots were relatively more realistic and used as weapons of war as opposed to the more fantastical "Super Robot" subgenre pioneered by Mazinger Z and Getter Robo.

A major theme of the show, and the franchise as a whole is "War is bad", as demonstrated through this meme:

Yes, this is the original version of this meme format.

Anyway, Tomino, a renowned pacifist who grew up in the shadow of Japan's involvement in WW2 tried to use his platform as an anime director to try and tell a story that would get people to realise war's futility and brutality.

So I hear you asking, "That's nice and all, but what about the space lesbians who beat Destiel on their home turf?" Well, let's get into that.

What is the Witch From Mercury?

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury, or "G-Witch" for short is one of the more recent entries in the Gundam Franchise and a (very) loose adaptation of William Shakespeare's The Tempest. Set in the year 122 Ad Stella, the solar system is under the de facto control of the Benerit Group: a megacorporation with borderline-medieval internal politics that maintains a system of capitalism that benefits Spacians at the expense of those who live on Earth.

Main heroine Suletta Mercury enrolls at Asticassia School of Technology owned by the Benrit Group at the behest of her mother: CEO Prospera Mercury of the Mercury-based Shin Sei Development Corporation, and wins a Mobile Suit duel against a bully in her own MS: the Gundam Aerial. This however means she has now won the hand in marriage of daughter of the Benerit Group CEO: Miorine Rembran, beginning a series of consequences that shape the very political landscape of the solar system.

G-Witch was a massive hit, both critically and commercially. The first episode: the Witch and the Bride attracting record numbers for the studio and the Gunpla kit for the Aerial is currently the best-selling Gunpla kit ever.

Contrary to popular belief, G-Witch is not the first piece of Gundam media to feature a female protagonist. That honour would go to the 2002 Japan-only manga École du Ciel, nor would it have the first queer main character, which goes to 1999's Turn-A Gundam (and if you were to ask any fan of the series, they'd so it goes back to the very beginning). But it became notable for its lesbian representation in anime (in spite of Sunrise's attempts to downplay it, to the anger of the director, writer, producer, artists, animators, cast, fans and even their own parent company Bandai Namco who forced them to back off).

One thing I need to clarify: You don't need to have watched the original series to enjoy G-Witch. They're not even in the same continuity.

So if you're interested in the series and you've only watched G-Witch, I'll give out three recommendations for you all to enjoy:

Mobile Suit Gundam 00

Gundam 00 takes place in the year 2307 (the only series to use our own calendar), where the world is divided between three global superpowers: The Union of Free & Solar Nations (The Americas, Australia, New Zealand and Japan), the Human Reform League (China, South, East, Southeast and Central Asia) and the Advanced European Union (all of Europe, including all of Russia west of the Urals) who each control a space elevator near the equator and wage proxy-wars in Africa and the Middle-East over Earth's dwindling resources. This eventually culminates in the emergence of Celestial Being: a terrorist group consisting of Setsuna F. Seiei, Lockon Stratos, Allelujah Haptism and Tierria Erde, all of whom use powerful "Gundam" Mobile Suits and try to forcefully impose global peace on the Earth.

00 is pretty slow-paced and is more about the world than the individual characters, but said characters are really well-written, especially the characters from the three power blocs who are the de facto protagonists as they try to stop what are in their eyes a bunch of crazed terrorists preaching a hypocritical and incoherent ideology of "peace through force".

And to address the elephant in the room, this series is VERY post-9/11. Constant talks about terrorism, proxy-conflicts in the global south (especially the Middle-East), religious extremism, dwindling resources and the wars fought over them. While the franchise has always been political and of-its-time, you can just tell 00 was made in the mid-2000's. Again, it's good. But just something to keep in mind.

Turn-A Gundam

Turn-A Gundam is one of the weirder elements of the franchise for a myriad of reasons. Not the least of which being its unique setting taking inspiration from the famous sci-fi novel War of the Worlds.

In the Year 2345 of the Correct Century, human civilisation is at a level of technology reminiscent of the late-19th/early 20th centuries, save for the Moonrace on... well, the moon. As part of their queen Diana Soreil's plan to reintegrate both Lunar and Terran societies, several scouts are sent to the planet to set up their return to the planet. One such scout: Loran Cehack integrates into Terran society as a driver for the wealthy Heim family, though at a coming of age ceremony for the family's second daughter, a member of the Moonrace attacks the technologically-inferior Terrans. However, a mysterious mustached statue breaks apart to reveal a "White Doll": the Turn-A Gundam, allowing Loran to fend off the invaders. rest of the series becomes more of a mystery to how the supposedly-peace loving Moonrace could allow of such brutality.

The setting of the Correct Century timeline alone is one of the draws of Turn-A, though its excellent characters and compelling mystery also help a lot.

I do however have two warnings for people interested in watching it. The first is that this series was never dubbed. While it did receive an official sub in 2015, there still isn't a dub for the series. So if that bothers you, there's your warning.

The other is that there's a pretty big twist in the latter part of the series that while I will not spoil it here, it's such a big deal that I can't not mention it. It doesn't make any sense, and it actively detracts from not just the series, but the whole franchise. You'll know it when you see it. It doesn't ruin my enjoyment, but a lot of people don't like Turn-A for that alone.

Mobile Fighter G Gundam

Favourite entry. Don't care. It's peak.

In the Year 60 of the Future Century, war has been abandoned by the nations of humanity in favour of the Gundam fight: a quad-annual fighting tournament between Gundams representative of the countries of the world where the winner rules space until the next Gundam fight, all while leaving the Earth ecologically devastated in the fighting. Neo-Japan's Gundam Fighter: Domon Kasshu arrives on Earth seeking information on his older brother Kyoji, who killed their mother and led to their father's arrest before stealing the experimental Devil Gundam to Earth, beating up every Gundam Fighter in his way. However, he eventually learns of far more dangerous revelations about the incident.

G Gundam is to put it bluntly: bat-shit insane. And I love it. It basically took a look at the then-stagnating franchise in the wake of the wet fart that was Victory Gundam and said "I know what can save this franchise, Bruce Lee movies!" And it somehow worked.

Word of advice: watch it dubbed. Mark Gatha absolutely kills it as Domon every time, and puts just the right amount of ham into every line.

So yeah, that's some stuff on Gundam. This was a long post to write out. I'm gonna take a break now.

[just-a-ghost00]

What are they hiding from you?

Group 1 - Howl

Cards : 5 Ochre Sea Star - embrace rapid changes, king of wands, Power, Moonstone - find your natural rythm

There are a lot of sexual references subtly hidden in these cards. As I was shuffling your cards, the song Okay from Chase Atlantic was playing. Then as I started with the reading, two other songs played : Aerials- System of a down & Tied to your body - Monsta X. If you were doubting this person's attraction for you, here is your confirmation that they are into you. They feel a lot of desire for you and apparently they have finally decided to act upon it. There's a lot of fire in the air, excitement, giddiness. They can't wait to see your reaction when they reveal to you what they were hiding. And looking at the cards, that could be happening really soon. I'd say within a few days. This person will either bluntly tell you about their intentions or they will let something slip that will betray them. I was picturing fireworks for some reason. Maybe there's a carnival going on in your town or a festive even of some sort that you will attend to together. This would make sense because of the moonstone card I'm getting a night time energy. The next new or full moon seem to be significant. FIY, the next new moon happens on the 5th of July. Oh and July 4 is Independance day. It is a celebration. Well, if you were planning on celebrating this commemorial day with friends, the night could turn out to be interesting to say the least ;) The next full moon is happening on the 21st of July. So maybe these two dates will be important for you and the person you're thinking about.

Group 2 - Haku

Cards : 13 Dumbo Octopus - Stop chasing and attract what you desire, 2 of cups, reclaim, Bismuth - rewrite your code with rainbows

While I was shuffling your cards, the song Attitude from The GazettE was playing on my speaker. And as I started channeling and writing your messages, Teardrops from BMTH started playing. This person that you're thinking about is tired of waiting for love to come to them. They are tired of trying relationship after relationship just to be heartbroken and deceived by people. They are tired of waiting for you to make the first step. They want to hide from you that they love you and intend to conquer you. They want to step into your connection with a better and healthier energy than what they were into before. They are reclaiming their power and their place in your heart. They may have lost track of who they were and what they wanted from love, from the connection you shared, from their partnerships in general. They came out of a state of confusion and sadness. They've realised that they only live once, that fighting only to mourn what was lost is meaningless, that everything has a start and an end. Including their own life. They don't want to waste time crying or doing meaningless things. They want to live, to love, to laugh, to have fun with life so that they have no regret. They know that if they had given up on you, they'd have regreted it so they intend to come back. The reason they hide that from you is because they fear rejection. It may take some time before this person states their truth. If I had to give you an estimated timing, I would say several months.

Group 3 - Ashitaka

Demons in your dreams - Motionless in white BTBT - B.I ft DeVita and Soulja Boy Honeymoon avenue - Ariana Grande blueberry eyes - MAX ft SUGA

Cards : 25 Mantis shrimp - don't give up now, Destruction, Agate - find your solid ground, 8 of cups

There were several references to demons in the songs that were playing during your reading. Combined with the energy of Mantis shrimp and Destruction, it feels like your person is fighting inner and external battles. For some it could be related to addictions. This person is trying to move away from something that is detrimental to their healt, whether it's a person, a situation or a material thing. I'm picking up on several scenarios. I was getting for some that they are actually trying to cut ties with you. They are tired of fighting for something that they know deep down they can't change. They've been trying really hard but now they realize that moving on is the best thing they can do. But for others, this person is attached to you and loves you a ton but they know that there are things and people in their life that prevent them from being there for you, be a good person to you. Again that could be addictions, certain connections, or a toxic attitude overall when it comes to you. They are willing to put in the work in order to be a better version of themselves that you would be safe with. They are not telling you this because it is a very vulnerable period of their life which they do not wish to show. They feel like telling you would hurt you and the last thing they want to do is destroy what you have, regardless of whether they intend to stay or not. They don't want to be bad to you, they still care enough to be the bigger person and do what is necessary.