#and it is not about mechanics questions sent to me! I actively like those! if you have questions about your pc for me that's great!

[utilitycaster]

I've been accused of arrogance many a time and yeah, there's some truth to that, but I am the image of humility compared to people who put their random D&D PCs in actual play main tags or as reblogs/replies to barely related posts.

[thelawsofdaylight]

I'm sorry if this isn't approriate, but I don't really understand why you find Les Mis a good target for a climate protest? I get that the musical has themes that align with the protesters but like... what was the good outcome? Are there really People in that audience that don't know climate change is happening? How Will this change their mind? What action is meant to be brought on by trowing soup at paintings or disrupting a performance? Does that actually help the cause of combatting climate change at all? Does it help make people more aware, does it have an effect on the mechanisms of polluters? Isn't there anything more focused that these resources (both money and the incredible bravery and drive of the People themselves) could be better focused on. These protest feels so different from like, people chaining themselves to a private jet or the schoolchildren going up to parliaments by the thousand to demand policy chances to better their future. All of the JSO actions feels so performative, I just don't see how they are actually doing anything of even the mechanism by which they are meant to accomplish anything? Which doesn't mean that the people involved aren't great people or that the reaction of the Les Mis crowd wasn't fucked up. Just... what was even the goal?

Hey! I know it's been a while since I made that post supporting the JSO protestors but I've gotten a few asks like this in the time since (and am still getting them) so I'm responding to this as the most good-faith one in my inbox and hopefully it answers others that have been asked to me in the past couple weeks as well. Disclaimer: If I'm responding to things outside the remit of this ask, it's likely that it's because someone else sent an ask about it and I've been juggling them all in my head as I've been thinking on a response.

I think in order to answer the first part of the ask we have to tackle the second. 'What has this action achieved' only works as a comprehensive criticism if we look at it in isolation to all of JSO's other actions. What I mean by this is: JSO launched by blocking oil refineries for days on end. In the two years they've been active they've done similar actions, including but not limited to disrupting fuel distribution centres, petrol stations, interrupting fossil fuel conferences, and, most recently, trying to stop the relocation of asylum seekers to prison barges. Their actions go far beyond blocking roads and disruption of public events. I think this is important to establish as I don't know how much of a working knowledge anyone not in the UK Climate movement actually has about JSO and I think it's good we're all on the same page.

But if they do all that (effective, important) direct action, then why target Les Mis? What does a West End show have to do with fossil fuel companies and climate change? And in response to these questions I'll ask one of my own: were you aware of the fact that JSO tried to stop migrants from being deported until I mentioned it just now? A lot of these actions, the ones that actually target infrastructure and confront those directly responsible, get little to no media coverage. When news of the Les Mis action first broke out, I saw so many people on Twitter with the same reactionary takes: why target Les Mis when the Conservative Party Conference literally happened the same weekend? And that's a fair and valid point- if it wasn't for the fact that JSO were at the conference. I know this because I was there too. They had a huge bloc in the march and went on to do other actions in the city after the march had ended. The whole thing, the entire 10,000+ strong protest, got maybe 30 seconds coverage on the local news and not even a mention of JSO's presence (or of climate change in general for that matter.) JSO's previous actions directed at fossil fuel companied themselves get very little, if any, coverage compared to their big flashy sports/awards show/performance interruptions.

So yeah, some of JSOs actions are 'performative'. But I don't think it's unreasonable to suggest that even performative actions have their place within the wider struggle. I understand not liking public disruption as a tactic and I understand the issues with it, but I also think it's worth reflecting on why groups like JSO use it.

Editing my draft here to report that earlier today they smashed the frame of a painting that was previously vandalised by the Suffragette movement in 1914. That's a performative action, sure, but you have to admit it makes a point. Just like the tageting of Les Mis, a play about an unjust society and the people striving to change it, makes a point about hypocrisy. It gets the media coverage. We can debate all day about the usefulness of that coverage and if chasing media headlines should be our goal in the first place... but at the end of the day, it's been proven that JSOs membership grows every time they do something like this. It gets more people to join, which means next time it comes round to blocking key infrastructure, they'll be in a stronger position to succeed.

This isn't to say don't criticise them at all! I actually think criticisms like this one are a key part of organising and, done with care, can only make our movements stronger. I have my own issues with JSO- namely, the carelessness with which arrest is actively encouraged/promoted as the only valid form of resistance- but that's a whole other conversation and one that doesn't undermine my support and solidarity for the activists who are doing those actions (and sacrificing a whole lot in the process.) I think mass direct action movements are rarely ever perfect but I also think we need to show solidarity first and foremost when people are trying to do the right thing, especially if how they're doing it is in conjunction with or as a response to other tactics.

[thesnivy123]

Hello! It’s me again lol

I’m really sorry for asking you so many questions, but I’m just really curious on what your version of the world of sky is like! Specifically, I would like to know what the culture of it is like! Like, how many things are new, and how much is pretty much just like the base game! For example: are skykids more tame about collecting clothes and cosmetics? Or are they just as feral over them as skykids are in the game? How do they get candles? How do events and spirits work? How prominent is music? (Side note, if it’s as prominent in this version of sky as it is in the actual game, I can only imagine red’s first reaction to it lolllll)

If it’s ok with you I’d like to know whatever world building you’re comfortable with sharing about it :D

Have a nice day! And I wish you the best of luck with the shattering traveling spirit if you’re still actively playing sky! :D

Sorry for the late response i got like super distracted when you sent this and just forgot-

I am SO glad you asked. generally I tend to ignore game mechanics that don't translate too well into the lore, or at least adapt them into something more workable- But since you asked about specific things, ill tell ya about those.

i put a lot of thought into how everything about skykids would effect the sort of culture theyve developed- one huge thing being that they're kids. They don't really have a civilization, so to speak, not in the way a more... Normal species might. Candles are usually just recycled from the wax of older candles scavenged from ruins, made from scratch by a handful of skykids who actually took interest in candlemaking, or... Well, made by spirits. Though a lot of spirits did eventually pass on back into the cycle once the stranglehold the darkness had on rebirth loosened, the ones that stayed gradually got more tangible as they "recovered", able to interact with the world more and more. Plenty of them are back to doing their own things, even if more... Ghostly, so skykids don't have to worry about keeping up with how many of those things they use, hah. (Sidenote: They aren't used as currency in my worldbuilding- Skykids use the barter system on the off chance they do want "payment" for something.)

As for clothes, they really CAN'T go ham on outfit collecting due to technical limitations- Fabric making is HARD, these are children, there's only so much they can do. They DO make new clothes, though, mostly via scavenged fabrics and scraps of older clothes. Skykid fashion is very colourful, very patchy, and very long lasting. Their capes are a different story- Because a cape that came with a skykid on creation is kind of special- Really, they don't wear down, those things are kinda magic- They can be passed down literally forever if the original owner gets a new one. Hell, there's actually a few capes floating around the hand-me-down trade of serious historical significance, and nobody would know by now.

Music is actually a big thing to them on account of it's something the ancestors did that wasn't "ABSOLUTELY BOOOORIIIING". And by "big thing", I mean "a lot of the hard work has been done for them so they don't have to figure out how to do it on their own". They use the same notation system and most of the same instruments as the Ancestors! Otherwise there's not much to say, most skykids have at least handled some sort of instrument before, it's pretty normal to them.

Events are... A weird thing. Most of them HAPPENED, I'm sure, just... To some particular group of Skykids rather than everyone. Season of Abyss? yeah some kid is out there bragging about "I MET A SUPERMEGATURBO-KRILL AND IT ATE ME AND THEN A MANTA GOT ME OUT AND I SURVIVED" or something. Little Prince? I've already well established that sometimes people end up in the world from other worlds, I'm sure it happened. Aurora? That. That one's a funny one. The concert did happen. It was a huge thing. But it was actually also an experiment on "what happens if you get a frankly absurd number of skykids all in one place", and apparently the answer is "the sheer density of light energy in the area temporarily allows Megabird to enter the physical realm and also Things Get Weird".

I already touched on spirits earlier, but to recap- when Eden exploded, the sheer amount of darkness energy severed ties to the rebirth cycle (which reincarnates lesser creatures and entirely revives sapient ones). Wildlife recovered, thankfully, after a few generations, but... The Ancestors never did. Most of the population was in the immediate blast radius (Eden, the Wasteland, and parts ofbthe Valley) and were dead from either the explosion itself or the effects of darkness soon after, the Forest and parts of the Valley and Prairie succumbed to illness and famine, and the Isle and the rest of Prairie... Just couldn't keep up. Not enough people left. There were ancestors left for almost a decade after the explosion in those parts, but all things come to an end eventually. Besides, darkness pollution had spread there, too, even if they got off easy.

As Spirits- Unable to fully die, tethered to the world- they were initially... It was a pitiful existence. Trapped in their own memories. But Skykids arrived, the world slowly recovered, and, very slowly, they did too. It got worse for them at first, when they gained awareness but couldn't interact with the world around them, and plenty chose to let go and fully pass on. Others remained, and, as time went on, they could do more. And more. It took a very long time, but... Eventually, in the modern day, the remaining Spirits are pretty much able to live relatively normal lives.

A fun fact- the Performance spirits were actually a huge driving force in why so many spirits stuck around. They absolutely REFUSED to let go, and their sheer force of will actually managed to speed the process a long a little- Proved to others that it actually does get better. Willpower... Usually isn't a part of the recovery process, so it's unclear how they managed to pull that off, but by golly, they did.

Anyways i absolutely LOVE getting these questions- I don't really play the game anymore (probably should) but the worldbuilding project is still one of my favorite things!! again i have really got to get back to writing that fic. Its on my mind. I just keep forgetting.

[popsicle-parfait]

Unfortunately I ended up losing interest in this draft and with the drama that keeps happening at Nijisanji I also lost the same likability in the streamers I once did. So if anyone wants to pick this up or just read it I'm going to leave it here.

It's a reader x Ike Eveland.

You have been playing video games for a couple of years now, and while you're not the best at them you do have a lot of fun while doing so. You've gone from gaming noob to posting professional tutorials for others like you on your blog. If you can't play a game you'll just watch streamers and analyze it so you can at least be aware of certain mechanics if you do end up buying said unobtainable game. The streamer you've spent the most money on was probably Ike Eveland, you weren't too interested in vtubers but something about his eloquence and how he engaged with his audience caught your eye. 

You've been watching him for a few months now so you can properly say you're a part of the quildren, as the fans put it. Apparently a new game came out and it was on everybody's wish list, but luckily you pre ordered it a long time ago, all that was left to do was boot it up and start playing. It was a classic mmo game and like the person you were, you decided to pick the female avatar since they have more cosmetic choices. You were a mage class so you'd have an easier time grinding and upgrading your skills compared to other classes, plus who doesn't like to buff yourself every now and again? 

You were in the middle of farming for a new armor set when someone sent you a group invite, who could this be? Their username was "TheNovelist" and they already seemed to be 5x higher than you in levels, so what could they possibly want with you? You decided to bite the bullet and clicked join, there were three people already active; one of them being the party owner in question. 

You took a quick look at their character profiles and the other two party members were a gunslinger called "Lionsgate" and a healer named "PotassiumFighter12", only one of those made your sweat drop. TheNovelist looked to be a swordsman, carrying a heavy greatsword and what looks to be a really OP armor set that got released. You all typed your hellos in chat before the forsaken conversation of 'Why' began to circle. 

Bellflower: Wow! You guys are stacked, are you about to do a raid? 

Lionsgate: Hell yeah! We're gonna defeat the newest mini boss! ∩( ✧Д✧)∩

PotassiumFight… : Unfortunately, we don't have enough potions to cover our stats so we asked our friend here to find someone who'll help

TheNovelist: It's ok if you're not a high level, we'll share the exp anyway! (^_^♪)

Bellflower: Oh alright! If you need anything from me just yell, my attention span is kinda bad lol

Lionsgate: Don't you worry your head Milady! We'll go in guns blazing! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

TheNovelist: Starting now

Honestly you've never been carried so hard in your entire life, but you can't deny the princess treatment isn't nice every now and again. The milady comment was odd considering you were sure you placed your gender as male in your profile but you'll take what you can get. After a few waves of monsters and drops to last you a few days, you were actually really enjoying yourself. The guys were funny and they all had such different personalities from what you could tell, plus they all seemed to know each other irl since the inside jokes were a bit odd. What the heck is a Shubert anyway? 

You were a bit confused but overall these guys really warmed your heart up! Afterwards you all parted ways and not even an hour later, you got a friend request from TheNovelist! The next day you decided to take a break for a bit since your hands were cramping and opened up YouTube to watch Ike's daily stream. It looks like he was playing that game you downloaded yesterday too, which you guess is pretty expected considering it was new and all.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

mechanical bulls

Something hard presses itself into Sirius’ tailbone.

The bull stills for a moment, granting their tense muscles a short reprieve, a pause of heavy panting. The music filters through cotton into Sirius’ ears suddenly, the swirling lights barely noticeable as he is staring at the metal poster plates and trophies on the wall unseeingly.

He leans his head back on Moonster’s shoulder and tilts it just so that he can catch a glimpse at parted lips and a fine dusting of tawny stubble in his periphery, “That your belt buckle or are you just real happy to be this close to me, cowboy?”

and

The lights continue to swirl around them and Moonster holds him firmly when the bull’s rear sinks down, and Sirius with it, eyes taking their time raking up Sirius from where their bodys touch to the caps of Sirius’ knees to the meat of his thighs over his own, over Sirius’ hips and chest and his neck and then the bull lift back up and its front sinks back down and Sirius gets pressed into the unfairly handsome cowboy’s lap wide-legged and open and exposed while holding terribly intense eye contact and it takes everything in him to suppress his keen.

His breath however does catch and then there’s a chuckle from the other and a tilt of his head that makes his hat slip as the brim of it bumps against Sirius’ forehead.

It makes Sirius blink and thankfully distracts him from their burning firm point of contact. Makes him more aware of the rest of his body so that he actively commands his fingers to uncramp from around Moonster’s neck and reach up to righten the askew hat.

When he looks back down the other boy stares at him like Sirius was just about to suck him off and then told him to zip back up, mouth agape and terribly hopeful expression on his face that Sirius doesn’t understand but desperately wants to soothe.

Sirius would suck him off, no questions asked.

Sirius should also stop thinking about blowing the guy while still straddling his crotch. He can already feel himself filling up against the unforgiving material of his jeans.

—

hello hi, everybody say thank you bea @t-ri-z . tiktoks have been sent, the brainrot has been activated once again and i dug this bad boy out and edited the hell out of some parts,, so…..have this ig?

im apologizing to everyone that has tagged me in those last line/snippet thingys these past few weeks. im trying to be kinder to myself but i’m in somewhat of a writing slump and am additionally convinced everything i ever wrote sucks so that’s why i haven’t been responding to those tags. i really do love to be tagged in them though!

so thank you to everybody that did, @behaveddestroyerrating & @kaaaaaaarf esp mwah kisses to you, i gift you these horny gay boys being gay on a mechanical bull

[oathofpromises]

always remembering can be as dangerous as always forgetting (for Jill)

𝕵𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘, 𝕸𝖎𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊. 𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖙𝖗𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒.The agony she felt recalling the day this nightmare began made it more difficult to push them aside over time. The brunette felt that forgetting would be worse, that it would be disrespectful to the memory of her fallen comrades. 

"I know...but there are times when I need to remember. Even if the mere memory hurts..I owe it to the people who fought beside me and died to hold onto everything. To try to keep their names engraved in time.” 

The agent reached into her holster and pulled out her Samurai Edge, the blue symbol shining in the pale moonlight. Fingers traced over the weapon, as Jill looked up at Mia. She had heard about the Baker incident. The hell they had faced here, and to some degree Jill could understand why they wanted nothing more than to move on from it. To forget the things they had to witness or were forced to take part in. Jill could relate to this a little, remembering how she was literally brainwashed into obeying orders she didn't want to follow. It didn’t stop the nightmares, though, no matter how many people seemed to forgive her. There was always a voice in the back of her head telling her that things wouldn’t have progressed this far if she had been stronger. That always seemed to be the case with Jill Valentine. A strong woman, but one filled with so much guilt and regret. 

“Mia, I don’t claim to know the pain you and Ethan went through. I only know what I read in reports sent to me by Chris. Couldn’t really be there myself, thanks to events that happened before. However, I do empathize with wanting nothing more than to move on from it. To forget everything that happened and try to live a normal life. Something we don’t really get to have lately. I know you don’t know me well, but, I do know the feeling of wanting to push those feelings away. Perhaps it doesn’t seem like I do, but I tend to keep most emotions bottled up. A coping mechanism I learned over the years. Can blame my parents for that one..” 

Jill cast a glance over at Mia, sensing the latter was still dealing with the aftereffects of what she had been through. Dark circles under the other's eyes was a huge sign that the other hadn’t been sleeping at all. It would take a while to fully move past everything, and sometimes things would still linger. All she knew was this whole thing started with the events in Raccoon city, which should’ve been easily stopped. However, the company had power that exceed one team capabilities. Which is why the agent was happy Chris, her, and others founded the BSAA. A group to handle threats like this, but over time she started to notice suspicious activity from the group. Working with companies like Tri-cell and even resorting to using bioweapons themselves. Which meant they would resort to pretty much any lengths. 

“Sorry,  I shouldn’t talk about such things. You are still healing from everything yourself.” The last thing the brunette wanted to do was stir up any trauma the other had gone through. However, the question still hanging on Jill’s mind was how corrupt the BSAA had gotten over the years. They had covered up the Baker incident. It was almost as if the family never existed, which infuriated the agent endlessly. 

“I know we just met recently thanks to Chris but I am here for you.” whispered Jill, as she got up and walked over to Mia. Slowly, she reached out her hand and placed it on the other's shoulder. It was a lot to deal with, and this entire thing wasn’t anything Ethan or Mia had asked to be involved in. Seemed like it was a pattern, people getting pulled into shit that had nothing to do with them. 

[9jaboizgistworld-blog]

Notecoin App: My Tap-to-Earn Journey on Telegram (Truth Revealed!)

Hey 9jaboizgist.com.ng readers! Ever heard of that Notecoin app taking over Telegram? If you're like me, you probably spend way too much time on your phone. So when I heard about a game that rewards you for mindless tapping, I was intrigued. Notecoin has not only become a viral sensation, but it just made headlines by listing on a major exchange, creating millionaires overnight! I'm here to share everything I've learned about this tap-to-earn phenomenon.

Why Notecoin is Trending (and Making Millions)

Notecoin's popularity has exploded due to its simple premise: tap your screen to mine coins. It's a game that appeals to our love of both casual gaming and the potential for earning. Plus, who doesn't love free money? The Telegram integration has made it easy for friends to invite each other, creating a social aspect that has fueled its viral growth. The recent listing has sent shockwaves through the crypto community, with early adopters reaping massive rewards.

What is Notecoin? Let's Break it Down

The Concept and Its Origin Imagine this: a game right inside your Telegram app. That's Notecoin! It's a brainchild of the TON Foundation and Open Builders, designed to make cryptocurrency accessible and fun. Gameplay Mechanics The game itself is pretty straightforward. You start with a virtual mining rig and tap on your screen to mine NOT tokens. The faster you tap, the more you earn. There's a bit of strategy involved too, as you manage your energy levels and use boosters to maximize your output.

The NOT Token: The Heart of Notecoin (and Newfound Wealth)

The NOT token is Notecoin's in-game currency. While it started with no real-world value, the recent listing on a major exchange has turned it into a valuable asset, creating a new wave of crypto millionaires.

How to Jump on the Notecoin Bandwagon (and Potentially Join the Millionaires Club)

Setting Up Getting started is a breeze. Just find the Notecoin bot on Telegram and follow the prompts. In a few taps, you'll be mining away. Mastering the Basics The core gameplay involves tapping, earning coins, and using those coins to upgrade your rig and buy boosters. The energy system adds a layer of complexity, as you need to balance your mining with rest periods.

Become a Notecoin Pro: Tips and Tricks

Boost Your Earnings with Upgrades There are tons of upgrades available, from energy renewal to turbo mode and multitap. These can seriously boost your earning potential, so experiment and find what works best for you. Team Up with Squads Joining or creating a squad is a great way to collaborate with other players. By mining together, you can earn even more coins and share resources. Share the Wealth (and Earn More!) Notecoin rewards you for inviting friends to play. The more people you refer, the more bonuses you receive. It's a win-win situation!

Tokenomics and the Future of Notecoin App (The Million-Dollar Question)

Where Does the NOT Token Stand Now? The NOT token's listing has been a game-changer. It's now a tradable asset with real-world value, and its price is soaring. This is an exciting time for Notecoin and its community. The Investment Angle: More Than Just a Game While Notecoin App started as a game, the recent listing has turned it into a legitimate investment opportunity. However, it's crucial to remember that crypto markets are volatile. Do your research and invest wisely.

The Notecoin Community: A Buzzing Hive of Millionaires

Social Media Frenzy Notecoin's social media channels are buzzing with excitement about the listing and the newfound wealth of some players. It's a testament to the power of community and the potential of crypto. Official Channels: Stay in the Loop The Notecoin team is actively sharing updates and news on their official channels. Stay connected to be the first to know about new developments and opportunities.

Notecoin app FAQs

Is Notecoin a scam?As of now, there's no evidence to suggest it's a scam. However, it's wise to be cautious and not invest more than you can afford to lose.Can I withdraw my NOT tokens?Currently, there's no way to withdraw your tokens. The developers have plans for future releases and potential exchange listings, but nothing is confirmed.What's the best strategy for earning more coins?Upgrading your rig, joining a squad, and referring friends are all great ways to boost your earnings.

My Conclusion: Is Notecoin Worth the Hype?

Notecoin App: A fun and addictive game with potential, but approach with caution as an investment. My experience with Notecoin has been a mixed bag. It's a fun way to pass the time and the potential for earning is exciting. However, it's important to manage your expectations. Don't get too caught up in the hype, and remember that it's primarily a game. If you're looking for a casual game with a twist, give Notecoin app a try. Who knows, you might just end up with a nice little stash of NOT tokens. Just don't quit your day job yet! Read the full article

[pavlovsbimbo]

It’s so cute that you’ve already started adopting the ideas suggested. Do you like that you’re so easily suggestible, that you easily and quickly adopt new ideas and kinks to make yourself a dumber easier toy?

The problem currently with the vocabulary control is there is no enforcement mechanism. What kind of punishment should there be if you mess up and use a word too large for a silly little toy?

Also, how do you feel about other forms of vocabulary/grammar control? Things like no capitalization unless it’s for something that actually matters (such as your dominant’s title), or no longer using most punctuation unless it is necessary to be understood or to make you seem cuter/pathetic (such as using multiple question marks instead of one, or no longer using commas, colons, or semicolons).

Have you started cutting out other forms of engagement? Maybe find/make some music with hypnotic undertones, that could let you focus while also reinforcing your place.

And while I was alluding to aging republicans, being dumb doesn’t mean being bigoted. Part of the key here is ensuring you trust whomever would be taking the mental load, so don’t make your dom a bigot. You can also choose what you want to be stupid about, by actively cutting off things which engage with that. Make sense, little toy?

Okay so! It's been a long while since this ask, so I hope you're still around, Anon.

Sorry for not getting back to you but I had kinda that thing where I want to respond and do a good job but I never feel like you can do good enough so I just don't respond and then I feel bad. But! With spring comes enough good brain che-chem uh vibes for me to get back to you, so here I am.

You wrote a lot so I'm gonna try to hit all of the points, with maybe some info for anyone who forgot.

First, I LOVE being super suggestible (gosh that's a long word) and like good at obeying. And the idea of making myself dumb is like too hot to not do it. So to get back into it, i'm like, not gonna use words with more than 2 parts. For fun!

Back when you sent this, i was making an effort to use smaller words, and I still love the idea of uhm word limits - but you're right, there should be a way to make sure i obey. In my mind, i wish i had a shock collar for this and any time i use a word that's too big or too smart i get shocked. idk what's up with my brain but that idea really turns me on.

Oh and maybe it's obvious but i LOVE that 2nd word idea too. Any idea that limits me and makes me act like more of a dumb slut is a great idea!!

i was like just talking about making it so i can't read news on any of my screens and stuff!! So that would be great too. The lead up to the big vote thing in a few months is a bad time so it's just right to stop reading!! Uhm, also! like i only read porn now, so that's good right? it's reading but it's mostly rubbing so i hope it's good. N i found a song that is like totes about being a toy. it's "bad idea right" by Olivia Rodrigo i hope that counts.

Lastly, thank you for the tips on how to be dumber in a safe way. i have good people around me to do the thinking, who i'm gonna ask to uhh help me stop reading news by blocking those sites. You wrote a lot but it totes made sense!! Thanks!!

[tallochar]

Can’t recall if I already sent you an ask for the ask game, but: 8, 13, 17

8 - Is there anything about post-Flashpoint canon you prefer to pre-Flashpoint canon? Be honest.

I have only read a handful of issues of post Flashpoint canon and it was pretty much N52 stuff so... the art?

Some of the art I have seen for post Flashpoint comics looks genuinely amazing and while pre Flashpoint had a lot of very solid and stunning art too, I really like some of the stuff I have seen coming out better, purely on artistic preferences level.

(The New52 Batwoman run, Jimenez's Tim, Bruce looking older and haggard with electric blue eyes and that five o'clock shadow etc.)

13 - Is it okay to make detailed contigency plans to take down your teammates? (See: Tower of Babel and a million other storylines) Why or why not?

Yeah, it is (dunno if this is going to be a controversial opinion or not, this is just my own take about things).

I think it is very human to want to or feel the need to, especially in a world where super powered beings are a reality and it has been proven again and again that their will can be suborned or that they can be forced to turn against colleagues, friends and family.

I have really bad anxiety, and I also rely a lot on scripts to get things done. Part of me needs to be prepared for things, hence why I like large bags that are always inevitably cluttered with things I might never use, but I might need at some point so I have them.

I think that in a world like that of DC, when you are in a position like that of Bruce or Tim in Red Robin, it is okay to want to make (and actually go through with plotting out) plans to take down and / or contain the people around you that might need stopping and will not be stopped if you are not ready to.

I know I sure as fuck would look at people and at the very lost idly wonder about it, maybe plot it out as a thought exercise, maybe plot it out as a serious thing if that person set off my "something is wrong here" meter, because those are the lanes my brain goes down.

Sure, Kon was so angry after he thought Tim might have had plans like Bruce's had at the time, when YJ were conscripted as extraction and relief personnel for thaf galactic war, but give it a few years, Geoff Johns and Lex being a dick and then Tim ended up with a broken arm courtesy of Kon and needing to take him down and Kon felt like shit it even went as far as the broken arm. A contigency plan was useful then.

I do not see it as a betrayal of friendship or a lack of faith in people, I see it as a coping mechanism and a necessity of the world. It's like going out with mace in your pocket or something heavy in your bag for your safety when you go in places that are dangerous.

Personally, if I had that level of superhuman powers, I would actively want my friends to have plans and ideas on how to take me down if it ever turned out to be necessary and not share them with me, so I could not counter plan for them.

For their own safety and my peace of mind.

How that is done is a whole other thing, though, and when that should be done is an even more complicated question.

I do not think my rule should be everybody's rule, though. It would just apply to me.

Everybody has free will and I am honestly feeling pretty sure my answer might not go down well with a lot of people.

17 - Who is the best civilian love interest, and why?

Ariana Dzerchenko.

She felt REAL to me, a person with her own life and things going on, an actual teenager that I wished had gotten a better deal, and that is why she was the best to me.

They did love each other, or at least cared very deeply for each other, and it was not enough to stop the real world to get in the way and that sometimes happens.

It is important to let go rather than cling to might have beens and were not, and while I wanted so much more of her and for her to come back on in an Ex Who I Am Good Friends With position (a pipe dream I know), I think what makes me like her best is that her relationship with Tim felt, in a way, complete.

It had a beginning and an end, and it was very teenagers-crushing-on-each-other, and it was not devoid of drama, but it was not nasty relationship drama.

They were sweet, it was sweet and it was not dragged into a forever Will They Won't They status were the fans will never know peace or be allowed the space to let go of it and grow out of it too and remain fond of it without needing it to come back in a romantic way.

I was sorry to see her go, but I also would not have wanted her to stay and be warped out of the person she was and into a source of nasty drama.

Best civilian love interest, hands down.

(Wish she had gotten to be a vigilante trained and raised by Helena, tho, and to stick around as a good friend of Tim post break-up, that would have made things even better)

[leam1983]

Scorn - Impressions

Disclaimer: The game isn't out yet, but I have a friend who shall remain unnamed who managed to get me a bootleg of the preview build. One of my earlier, failed attempts at professional development involved pursuing a Multimedia degree for Content Integration, which gave me some chops in video production and allowed me to watch a few classmates spider out into the games industry. I've stayed close friends with a few, and sometimes get little Unmentionables like this.

Thoughts below the cut.

So - Scorn. We've been waiting forever for this one, it seems. Back in 2017, the game had airs of a moody puzzler and shooter, sort of a plodding take on Half-Life with a purely biomechanical aesthetic unsurprisingly lifted from equal parts Giger and Beksiński, with a few sly nods to Cronenberg. Your tools were organic, your gun was organic, the creatures impeding your progress were either part of some infesting biomass or wardens of some construct you were attempting to escape - nothing was exactly clear. I'm pleased to report that this vagueness remains, and that the opening cinematic only seeds more questions.

You emerge as something that's at least vaguely humanoid, pulling yourself free in some sort of grotesque birth, and instantly plummet down to some unseen depths. You wake up there, deprived of anything even remotely close to a UI or stated objectives. Things consequently come to you at a piecemeal basis, interactables violating your envelope's integrity for the sake of allowing you to open doors or interface with various chitinous mechanisms. Your surroundings are silently hostile, somehow both alive and inert in ways that don't have the courtesy of evoking something safe and known like a vampire's undeath - but that rather calls back to the undeath of cancer cells. Everything looks purpose-built, purpose-grown; but twisted just so - in order to elicit a sense of pervasive wrongness.

For what I've been given to see, your goals are mechanical. How do I go there? How is this door opened? What are these things impeding my progress? How are these mechanisms useful to me? What is it that I have that can serve as a means of defense? These questions are what's going to steer you at first, and you'll realize that Scorn isn't concerned with your expectations towards shooters.

Your gun isn't a gun, it's a tool - an interface. A hard proboscis shoots out at the favor of a mouse press, and you can use it to open particular locks or activate particular mechanisms - or to effectively prod certain antagonistic beings out of commission. This only reinforces your general weakness, the devs likely figuring out that giving you eXistenZ's bioweaponry right out the gate sent the wrong message about the game's desired tone.

In a way, Scorn is essentially Myst's bitter and depressed relative, judging by the demo's established tone. It gives no answers, packs no tutorials outside of contextual cues, and almost grudgingly displays a life bar after a few hits land on you. There are no journals sprinkled with clues, no extremely unique landmarks and overlooks allowing us to draw as accurate a map as possible - all of its pathos rests on you, your sense of isolation, on the sound design and Lustmord's impeccable ambient work.

A word to the wise, however - there's gore. It's not Agony and it certainly doesn't revel in it, but that part where I mentioned your body was being violated to grant you access, tampered with without your character's prior consent? That doesn't just happen to you - other entities are affected as well. No, I'm not implying rape, but forceful body modification should still count for something.

I won't comment too much on the technical aspects - the game is gorgeous but clearly in need of those last three October weeks. Dig around and you'll find current resolution and framerate issues, which one can only hope Ebb Software will have patched before Release Day.

It's not for the faint of heart, but definitely for the curious.

[thewertsearch]

EB: i'm going to wake her up. TG: dude no come on TG: shes out like a light anyway TG: it was some like weird future thing that happened that made her sleep

Unbelievable. This is almost certainly the first time they’ve ever met, and she doesn't even know he's here. 

Unlike Jade, Rose doesn’t even have a dream computer to message. Dave could activate his ‘already awake’ dream self and tell her, but he doesn’t seem bothered. 

TG: see those two notebooks on the floor behind you EB: yeah. EB: they look sorta like journals. EB: i don't think i should read those! TG: you dont have to read them im not telling you to TG: what kind of prying tool do you take me for TG: just pick them up

What you playing at, Strider?

Oh god dammit. 

Just like with the robo-slap, I don’t entirely approve, but I am impressed. Dave, surprisingly enough, seems to have a talent for exploiting Sburb’s mechanics.

TG: isnt that your birthday package there EB: oh, yeah, i think it might be. TG: maybe you should look at it TG: i dont think it counts as snooping since its technically yours

Yup, looks like a scarf to me. John’s outfit continues to evolve!

Welcome to Derse, Rose. The sky is full of monsters, and your buddy's in the other tower. I think you’ll like it here. 

Why is Cal here.

Why is Cal wearing Dream Self robes.

Why is Cal moving.

I guess the most mundane explanation is that Bro is on Derse with a replica Cal doll, but I’m not seeing the telltale blur that indicates his presence. No, it seems that the worst has come to pass. This incarnation of Cal is alive.

I hate hate hate the implications of this. Did Calsprite make it back to the main timeline, just like Future Rose? Was Cal a Sburb construct all along, sent to Earth like Becquerel? Something is up with this puppet, and it seems it’s going to be sticking around like a bad smell. 

And oh yeah - Dave’s two selves really were both awake, at least until Rose disrupted their connection. 

This leads me to question some basic assumptions I made about the dream self system. I was sure that there was only one mind inhabiting these two bodies, but if both bodies are active, are there two minds in this system? Or was each Dave only half-awake?

Anyway, let’s hit the pause button on our speculations. I was starting to think Homestuck would never let these kids meet, but I’m happy to be proven wrong. 

[S]: Derse kids: hang out. 

[utilitycaster]

dorian is tentatively asking dariax if they can cuddle instead of go back to back

Hello, anon who keeps sending spam asks to numerous blogs within the fandom.

I am fairly sure you have not just been sending spams about your preferred ships. I'm pretty sure you've specifically sent me two biphobic and stupid questions about Zerxus and Evandrin; one dismissive of emotional manipulation and stupid question about Yu; and one merely very stupid question about Caleb and Essek's relationship.

After some discussion with other people who have also experienced the misfortune of receiving your questions, I am reasonably confident that I know who you are. If I'm correct, your blog header image as of this posting is based on an art piece that is displayed in the Met Cloisters. This tentative identification is backed up by some distinctive word and phrasing choices, the fact that that blog's opinions and ships line up precisely with those in the spam acts, the fact that one of my mutuals was blocked by that blog immediately after responding (negatively) to one of those spam questions; and the fact that someone from that url has previously sent asks off anon to several of my other mutuals, in a similar theme. I don't have proof, but if I ever receive another spam ask in this vein, I'm going to DM them and see if I'm right. The fact that you have persisted despite my answers consistently being fairly insulting towards you indicates that either I need to get much meaner or you need to get better reading comprehension.

I hope you are able to talk to someone in the real world, ie, not online, whom you trust, to get some perspective on how obnoxious you are being. I hope you have a safe and supportive space in which to develop coping mechanisms for handling the idea that people may hold different opinions than yours that don't involve being such a missionary mosquito telemarketer of a person; and that you have a place to work on addressing your bigotry and weird fundamentalist morality, which I do believe most likely come from a place of you being sheltered, ignorant, and unimaginative rather than out of active malice, but which are still inexcusable. In the meantime, however, please do me a favor and shut the fuck up.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E131 (March 30, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Sam Riegel!

Brian points out that a lot of Caleb’s greatest fears have come to pass. Liam: “It’s funny, because he’d kind of believed for a while that those things weren’t going to happen. After a while, he got complacent.” He notes that it was extra wild because everything with Trent popped up again in the midst of that complacency. And how did it feel to be defiant toward Trent? “I think Trent successfully made Caleb question if Caleb really was in control“ at the dinner party. “I feel like anything that I do is part of his plans for me, or is that just gaslighting? I’m legitimately scared of that dude.” Sam: “Of Matt?” Liam: “Sure.” He highlights the disconnect between knowing that the M9 is mechanically powerful and could possibly defeat Trent in a dice-and-stats battle, versus fearing him in a story sense and being convinced he can do almost anything.

Sam, on Luc’s death: “That was brutal, man. Matt Mercer is a-- he hates children! Clearly. He actively sought to kill a child in the campaign in as brutal a way as possible. He hates children and wants them dead. Canon. No, but to RP, that was horrible.” He highlights that so much of Veth’s arc has been about trying to get back to her family. “We had to choose something and we thought we were making the right choice. It was all Veth’s fault, and it was pretty rotten. My heart was beating pretty fast, and I certainly didn’t want to have my son die live on the stream. I don’t know what Veth would have done. That’s the end, that’s over. It’s almost worse than when your own character would die. This is something that would also kill Veth.” After the episode was over: “just shaken. I also didn’t know what to do next! That felt like a turning-point moment for my character, weirdly so close to what we assume to be the end arc of this campaign. I texted Matt later that night and was like, that’s it, Veth’s out, I’m tapping out.”

There’s an interlude in which Sam discovers a new dream to record an episode of this show from his Peloton. Dani informs him that she will not be inviting him back.

On Astrid, Liam: “I literally don’t know what she’s doing. I know that she’s dangerous, she always was ambitious, and there’s not been a moment where Caleb let his guard down with her. He’s not trying to reestablish what they had. He cares for the both of them, for Astrid and Eodwulf. He thinks about it a lot, still. He can’t tell how much she buys into everything that she experienced and is now living as a full-grown adult. He suspects that she’s bought in and is not going to change things, because she believes in the system, as much as he’d like to peel her away. He does believe that they want what’s best for the Empire, and stopping whatever wants to come vomiting out of a hole in the frozen north is good for everyone. And they’re powerful. They’re not trustworthy, obviously. But there’s enough at stake to make it worth it. He could imagine a situation where they fight each other to the death.” He was convinced Astrid was going to stop them when they left the tower and was really shocked when she held back. Sam: “Not me! I’ve trusted Astrid since day one. She’s the greatest! I sent a letter to her, she’s very nice, I think you guys would be a nice couple. I believe every word she says.”

On having to decide on Veth deciding to go off and save the world after Luc’s death. “Like I said, I was ready to be done. And then I decided somewhere in there that that’s not very D&D. So I thought I’d leave it up to somebody else, so I asked Caduceus to decide for me, essentially. She knows she’s putting her other family in danger if she doesn’t go. It’s an impossible choice, you know?” Liam: “I love watching you grapple with it, because you’re a lovely father and love your kids.”

On the Sanatorium, Sam: “That was brutal, man. Matt lulls you into a sense of complacency. We’d forgotten that Caleb was a stone-cold killer! It had been a while since he went on a murder spree. Still got it!” Liam: “I never meant for this character to be perfect sunshine.” Brian: “You don’t say.” Liam: “He’s very not-perfect, and I think in his brain, he was going in with the impression that they needed to get in and get out as soon as possible. The place is crawling with people with magic ability, and I didn’t have faith that we wouldn’t be sussed out or something wasn’t going to blow an illusion.” Everything was about getting out of there as fast as possible.

Did the conversation with Yeza help with Veth’s decision? “First of all, every conversation with Yeza is a beautiful one. Every time she talks to Yeza, it makes her feel good. In some ways, she’s gotten to the point now where she knows Yeza’s going to be supportive, she knows he’s going to allow her to do what she wants, but maybe that’s too much. Maybe she needs to not listen to him, basically, and be like, no, you need to be selfish now, dude, you need to say ‘come home, I’m sick of you leaving’. At a certain point, being supportive can turn into being enabling.”

Cosplay of the Week: Jester in the snow! (liljerbear47, photography by kairiceleste on Instagram)

On Trent’s motivations for chasing Caleb: “I really don’t know. The simplest explanation is to just hammer down the nail that’s sticking up. It has crossed his mind that all high-level wizards are in danger of their own ambition and egos, so it’s occurred to him that Trent might have the same kind of ideas that Halas had in the past, and maybe Caleb was always meant to be another body to jump into. Maybe in some sick, disgusting, twisted way, he wants him to be his successor. I am thinking of the next campaign, without getting too deep in, trying to do something that is much more ride-along. Caleb is very, very specific, and I thought long and hard about all the different pieces on the chessboard for him. For campaign three, I’m looking forward to seeing what happens.”

Dani: “Do I need to be keeping lore on your fucking ads?”

On the cursed dagger: “It was a tricky one, because in campaign one, one of the characters was under the influence of a cursed weapon, but it interacted with him and he knew what it was and what it did. And it affected his gameplay as a character. For me, Veth didn’t know what it was, ever. I as a player knew what it was doing, but Veth didn’t know at all. So it was kind of like my dirty, dark secret for many months. I knew this thing was coming perilously close to killing me, but my character didn’t know enough to bring it up to her friends. Nobody ever asked! So I was like, well, I guess this thing’s just going to kill me one day, and it’s kind of going to be a surprise.” Liam: “Sam, you love danger and self-destruction so much, you might as well be Mollymauk.”

On the fight in Yasha’s sequence, Sam: “You gotta put a character in your storm giant creature. It was so fun! It was so great of Matt to involve us in this encounter. It would’ve been fun just to watch, because Matt would have made it amazing and Ashley was sweating bullets, which is always fun to watch.” Sam notes he felt guilty, but Liam was going for the kill. Liam: “Matt’s gotta be careful about giving me that kind of story beat. I do not fucking care, I just fucking flip, I’m like, well, I’m going to destroy you, and I have no qualms about it. It’s too much fun!”

The Beau/Yasha tower date was in part inspired by not being able to give gifts as easily this last year. “This thing that we do together is a gift, but I love finding these moments, like the book for Jester and the tower for Yasha and for Beau. I really just wanted to give both of them a little magic for a night. I wanted them to leave this-- we’re trying to be as entertaining as possible, but shit is having an effect on all of us too, and I wanted them to have an escape, a great place to escape to.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot, plus Marion, Yeza, and Luc! (vocaz on Twitter)

On choosing Essek over Trent, Liam: “It would have been so interesting and awful and great! Essek and Astrid and Eodwulf are everything that Bren used to be attracted to that are terrible for him. Essek, hopefully he can with time find a way out of the hole that he dug himself into, but it was only two months ago where he was found out and his ambitions came crashing down around him. Long-term, I have high hopes for him, but I think it’s going to be hard.” In contrast, Astrid and Eodwulf are still “deep in the shit. It would have been really hard to navigate, but fun to play at the table. We made the right choice with what we went with. Essek’s just getting started, and Caleb doesn’t trust him entirely, because he was burned so hard not too long ago. He’s still more trustworthy than the other three. So it’s the better choice. While Caleb has all these ties on the other side, they’re really fucking dangerous. So if you have to choose, you choose Essek. But fuck that die.” Sam: “Veth, much like Sam Riegel, makes instant decisions about whether to trust someone or not and sticks to it forever. Astrid, 100% trust. Eodwulf, 100% distrust. Essek, completely distrust. I still don’t think he’s a good guy. Ikithon? Trust. 100%. Because you know where he’s coming forward, you know what he wants. I still want him dead, but I trust him.”

On Veth’s post-adventuring plans: “Veth is probably still too in it right now to think about what comes next. I, Sam Riegel, have a good idea of what I want Veth to do post-campaign.” Brian: “Maybe you shouldn’t tell us. Save it for the show!” Sam: “All she knows is she can’t do this anymore. It’s very unhealthy to be battle-wounded every other day. It’s fun for a while, but college has to end at some point, and she’s gotta go home.”

On Frumpkin changing appearance and returning to the Feywild: “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but the way it feels now for Caleb is that he feels too enmeshed in everything that has happened, and too much good has happened, and too much needs to happened, that that really narcissistic, selfish goal has the risk of harming everything else, which is more important. And that’s how he looks at it now. So he’s gearing towards letting everything from the beginning of the campaign, and where he started, go, and trying to figure out what use he’s going to be now and what he’s going to do if they’re not all dead. If Matt throws that shit down, I don’t know what I will do, I think about it a lot. But turning Frumpkin white and saying you’re free either way is him preparing to let go of everything he’s been holding on to for a really long time. He’s addicted to that idea that he can fix himself, and we’ll see if that hard choice gets presented, what he might do. But where he stands now, he doesn’t think that’s going to be reality, and he sees a way that he can be of use that he never really anticipated before, so he’s slowly shifting gears towards living with the pain he was trying to remove.”

On the last request scene and confidence heading into Aeor, Sam: “I feel like that’s a good request. I think all of us realized that if we die, that probably bodes badly for the world. I feel like all of us are at a point now as characters and as friends, that the first order of business would be to take care of everybody else’s shit, although we probably have different ideas of how to do that.” Liam: “I want the Empire to be healed, Caleb has all these memories of his parents and what they wanted for the world, and he wants that too. It’s clearly not in place now, the system needs to be broken and replaced. That could be a part of Caleb’s sunset. I don’t want Caleb to die, so maybe he can work on that after. As everything starts to shake out and we start heading towards our destiny, Caleb’s just free-floating. He’s not even going after the same thing he started for. So he’s looking at Veth’s family, and Luc specifically, and seeing that’s me, that’s a little boy in the Empire.”

[snarky-badger]

Okay. Part one of five of my General Grievous... short stories, I suppose. Featuring my OC Kyra.

This was supposed to be a multi-chapter story. Kyra was a child when she met Grievous pre-cyborg. She was on Tattooine, in the 'care' of someone who raised animals and such. ('animals' being a loose term in the star wars universe) Later Grievous goes back, she's around 30 now - finds her. realizes that she's good with animals and 'appropriates' her as a caretaker/trainer for his pet roggwart, Gor. Shit happens. she treats him like a person not a droid/cyborg. he's an asshole, she gets mad at him. they bitch at each other a lot.

There. you're caught up. lmao.

Anyway, enjoy the slight story and definite smut. (I still can’t believe I wrote this)

Please comment on whether you want the other 4 parts.

(Also, should I put this on AO3??)

ONWARDS!

Part The First.

.

.

"Oh really? And how's that been working for you?"

A low rumbling snarl left Grievous as he spun to glare at Kyra, only mildly impressed when she didn't flinch away from him. "And what," he growled, voice harsh, "gives you the right to assume that you know anything about me?"

"I can sense you," she said softly, glancing away when his eyes narrowed at her from behind his mask. Sighing, Kyra rose a hand, one of the lightsabers that Grievous kept hidden in his cape flying into her grasp. He stiffened at the motion, clawed mechanical hands curling into fists, even as she held the saber out for him to retrieve. "I'm not a Jedi, Grievous, and I don't plan on becoming one. But, I don't want to be a Sith either...."

He snatched the lightsaber out of her open hand and activated it, growling as he angled the glowing blue blade close to her face. "I should cut you down where you stand!"

Kyra glared up at him, blue eyes boring into reptilian yellow for a long moment before she snarled at him. "Fine then," she snapped, ignoring how those golden yellow eyes widened in surprise at the ferocity in her voice. "Go ahead! All you've done since bringing me here is treat me like garbage! Worse than garbage! I thought living on Tattooine was bad, but this is worse! I thought, hoped, that some of Qymaen jai Sheelal still remained, despite what you've done to yourself, but you're not who I remember! The being who gave me that promise is dead and gone! So do us both a favor, General Grievous, and kill me already!"

He stared at her in shock, watching the tears that streamed down her face and idly wondering if she even knew she was crying. Something in him twisted at the sight of her pain, and a deep, rattling, sigh left Grievous as he deactivated the saber, his free hand rising to carefully brush the moisture from her left cheek. It surprised him to no end that Kyra shivered and turned her face into his taloned hand, trusting him not to hurt her, despite her outburst.

Slowly, fighting against everything that screamed at him to shove her away, Grievous hesitantly tugged her forward, crouching a little as he wrapped his arms around her. His cyborg form easily took her weight when she leaned into the embrace, her warm breath tickling across the sensors built into his chest armor. The warmth and pressure of her body sent a shiver through him, cybernetic sensors that were implanted in his armor activating at the stimulation. It had been so long since anyone had dared to touch him. And certainly longer since he had felt the urge to comfort anyone.

He felt her fingers curl around some of his back armor, returning the hug as best she could, fairly snuggling into his chest, her head coming to rest just above where the armor protected his gutsack, where the few remains of his flesh lay hidden. Moving carefully, Grievous used his greater height to his advantage, leaning over her a little, the movement bringing his masked head close to hers. A brief thought, and his arms split into four, servos giving a little whine as he curled three of the four appendages around her, the fourth sliding into her fire-red hair, bringing her head closer to his masked face so the olfactory sensors there could drink in her scent.

"Kyra, I.... I....." He growled, one hand clenching into a fist at her back, disgusted that he couldn't bring himself to apologize.

"It's alright," she told him softly, pressing her cheek to his armor as she sensed his roiled emotions.

Grievous sighed and leaned his head against hers, tucking her warm body closer to his, the cloak he wore about his shoulders sliding forward to curl around her as well, partially hiding her from view. "How can you sense me? Dooku constantly complains that not only do I have no Force-sensitivity, but that I'm invisible to his own senses."

"I don't know," Kyra admitted, leaning back a little to meet his bright gaze, blinking at the calm contentedness she saw there. "I've always been able to attune myself to those around me. Until you told me otherwise, I thought it was the same for everyone who could use the Force."

He shook his head slightly. "From what I've learned, you're the only one who can sense the Kaleesh in what I've become," he said, his synthetic voice losing the harsh edge it usually had, more of a whisper now. "Most think me a droid, even those with Force senses."

"I don't."

"I know. It's refreshing. And.... comforting." He gave her the slightest of squeezes, one hand settling on her right hip while two other arms kept her wrapped in a hug, his fourth hand still toying with her hair. "But how can you tap into the Force if Count Dooku didn't sense anything in you?"

A soft smile tugged at her lips. "It's one of the first things I taught myself, how to hide from others. I didn't want to be found by either the Jedi or the Sith...." She paused for a moment, dropping her gaze from his. "Are you going to tell Dooku about me?"

He jerked back, stunned at the question. "No! In fact, I don't want him anywhere near you! If he finds out that you can use the Force, he'll take you to Sidious. Worse yet, if either learns about---" His vocalizer momentarily froze as his mind caught up with what he was about to admit. He had spent so long, trying to lock his emotions away, centering himself on becoming a better warrior, a better strategist. And now, to find himself on the brink of actually admitting to having such powerful feelings towards her was.... disconcerting.

Part of him was disgusted that he was even suggesting the thought of weakening himself, of letting long ignored emotions return to the surface. But the other, the part that had been hidden away, the part that was still Kaleesh, still Qymaen, and flesh and blood, and singing at Kyra's closeness, realized that he had been a coward. Despite all his improvements, all the battles won and the trophies he collected, how could he call himself a warrior if he was afraid to accept the peace that Kyra's mere presence afforded him?

How could he ignore the part of himself that fairly screamed for some small bit of comfort, however fleeting?

Grievous knew that he had been losing himself to rages more and more often, something that he had hardly ever done before. Certainly, he had been, - and still was - an accomplished warrior. But he was also a strategist. He knew that letting anger overwhelm you during a battle was foolish. Anger clouded thoughts, made one sloppy. And a mistake during the high-stake fights he now found himself in would be very, very costly.

As he turned his attention outwards again, meeting Kyra's worried gaze, he suddenly realized that he couldn't remember the last time he had actually felt so relaxed. The anger and rage that usually boiled at the edge of his thoughts had eased, his legendary temper no longer tearing at his control. He felt.... well, not mellow, but certainly calmer than he had in a long, long time.

Giving in, Grievous hugged Kyra to himself, carefully angling his masked face close to hers. "No one can ever know of the fondness I hold for you," he told her, sensors thrumming at the shiver that went through her body. His fourth hand rose to her face, metal fingers playing across her cheek, touch receptors relaying the feeling of silk soft skin against his metallic palm. "Outside of secured locations.... I won't be able to acknowledge this, Kyra. It would put both our lives at risk, especially yours."

She frowned slightly. "They'd use me to get to you."

He nodded, relieved that she understood. "And vice versa, I imagine," he muttered, chuckling a little when she blushed. Growling lowly, Grievous pressed his masked face against the curve of her throat, sensors fairly singing as they took in the softness of her skin and the richness of her scent. "Ah, Kyra, whatever will I do with you? I find myself missing the time where I was more flesh than machine."

The admission tightened something in her abdomen, and she leaned away from his touch to meet his gaze again. "Can I try something? I promise, it won't hurt."

A grumble left him at that. "You want to use the Force on me."

She nodded, raising a hand to caress the side of his mask and smiling a little when he turned his face into her hand. "Will you trust me? It won't hurt, and if you feel the least bit uncomfortable, all you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will."

Her fingers stroked the side of his facemask, heightened sensors in the armor activating under her touch, and it was all he could do not to groan happily at the contact, very aware that her other hand was caressing the metal on his chest. At that moment, she could have asked him to defect to the Republic, and he might well have done it, just as long as she kept touching him. "Go ahead."

Kyra smothered a giggle at the contented growl in his voice, then pushed her amusement aside, focusing solely on what she was about to do. It was simple for her to tap into the Force. Instead of a mystical power, she had always thought of it as a different form of energy; an energy that only a scant few were sensitive to and which even less were able to wield.

Energy could be harnessed if done correctly, like the solar collectors on some other worlds. It could be molded to do many things, within limits. The nature of the Universe couldn't be changed. People lived and died, that was the way of things; but life could be extended to a certain degree, and disease and damage could be healed. Time was it's own master, even the Force was no match for it. Other limits were attached to the one opening themselves to the Force. It took concentration, practice and a fair amount of willpower to learn to harness such energy; and there were bound to be many failures before achieving a specific goal.

Kyra had learned things the hard way, without a guide or teacher. Trial and error had been harsh, but she liked to imagine that she was more flexible than others that used the Force. Some things that she had taught herself were simply not done by either the Sith or the Jedi, according to Grievous' information. Like what she was about to do.

It came to her so easily, like running water, invisible power flowing through her veins as she brushed her fingertips down one of Grievous' arms, triggering and enhancing every receptor and sensor that she knew was hidden in his armor.

The caress, powerful and so very warm, nearly sent him to his knees, little pulses of energy flitting across the circuits that crisscrossed his cybernetic frame. His cyber-organic brain translated the signals into throbs of pleasure, a strangled moan crackling out of his vocalizer as his eyes slid closed, hands clutching at Kyra as a shudder wracked his body. It took him almost a full minute to become coherent again, and even then, Grievous found himself struggling not to beg her to do whatever she had just done again. "W-What did you--?"

"I can manipulate energy to a certain degree," she told him, smiling as she lightly trailed her fingers up and down his upper left arm, causing him to shiver and tighten his hold on her. "I'm just.... sending little surges through your receptors."

Another small wave jolted up his arm, echoing through every circuit and wire in his entire body until he was fairly shaking, the wicked talons on his feet sinking into the dermaplated floor. Urges that he had thought lost rose to the surface, his two lower hands dropping to her waist to pull her pelvis against his as his hips arched towards hers uselessly.

While the action still pulled a rather delightfully breathless gasp from Kyra, he couldn't help but growl in annoyance at his metal body, his mind instantly running through the lewd thought of having some sort of attachment fashioned. The mental images did nothing to stop his newly awakened lust, his voice coming out in a near purr as he picked her up in his lower arms and carried her towards her quarters, upper hands already tugging at her clothes. "You realize that I intend to finish what you've started?"

Kyra met his smouldering gaze and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek, a little thrum of energy accompanying the gesture. "I wouldn't have started it otherwise."

Growling, he carried her through the automatic door to her room, stepping through and pausing only long enough to balance on one foot while using a metal toe to type in the lock command, insuring their privacy. "You're mine now," Grievous told her, partially burying his face in her hair as he stalked towards her bed.

His final upgrade into his cybernetic body had eliminated the need for sleep, and thus, the need for a bed. But now he found a small part of his Kaleesh mind wishing he could have brought her to his own quarters to claim her there, various memories of his past where he had taken his wives to bed for a night of rather impassioned sex.

The memories only fueled him, a low rumbling growl leaving him as he set her on her bed and crawled above her, eyes drinking in the sight of her before careful talons cut her clothes away. Every bare inch of flesh he uncovered looked like heaven, the hands of his upper arms caressing newly exposed skin while the lower continued to rip the material off of her body. Though it all, Kyra never stopped touching him, fingertips gliding across his arms, throat and chest, pulses and surges of pleasure only intensifying his need to have her laid bare before him.

"I haven't been with anyone since I began upgrading myself," he warned her as he threw the scraps of her clothes over his shoulder, sending his cloak after them seconds later before turning his burning gaze onto her once again, lower hands already mapping her body. "You must tell me if I hurt you. I can't claim you in the normal fashion, but I can still give you pleasure."

Kyra shook her head a little and rose herself on an elbow to bring their faces closer together, one hand stroking the side of his masked face and shivering in anticipation at the lust in his bright gaze. "You won't hurt me," she murmured, sliding her hand down his throat and across his chest until she took his right upper hand in hers, rising it to her lips and pressing a kiss to his metal palm. "I trust you."

That one small gesture sent a stab of arousal through him, his body wracked by a shudder when she playfully suckled on one taloned finger, touch receptors detailing how warm and soft and wet her mouth was. Groaning, he descended on her, all four hands caressing her body as he struggled to map out every inch of her, sensors drinking in every gasp and moan that escaped her, every arch of her back and roll of her hips. He explored every bit of her, easily bracing himself above her as he slid one hand into her hair, the second lightly tracing the curve of her throat while the third closed over one breast, his fourth hand dropping to her inner thighs, teasing her with gentle strokes.

And to his growing delight, Kyra was far from passive. She matched every touch, every stroke. Sometimes it would only be a warm throb that washed through him, leaving him craving more, while others were roiling waves of pleasure that threatened to completely overwhelm him, his breath leaving him in very audible moans and growls. She would drag her fingernails across his armor, the sensation making him arch his back and close his eyes, only to gasp seconds later when she dared to tickle at sensitive joints, the contrast both refreshing and oddly arousing.

Both of his upper hands shifted to knead and massage her breasts, talons ever so careful against the soft skin. His left lower hand settled on her hip, holding her still as his right cupped her, one finger sliding into her wetness. Her hips instantly rolled into his hand, a needy little mewl leaving Kyra as she clutched at him, her blue eyes darkening to a rich sapphire.

Growling, he shifted above her, dropping his face to the crook of her neck to drink in her scent, shivering when she rose a hand to stroke the back of his head, tiny little eddy's of Force energy dancing across his duradium skull. He wrapped his upper arms around her torso, tugging her slightly upright as he rubbed his face against her skin and purring when she placed a warm kiss to the side of his head.

"Touch me," Grievous whispered against her throat, mind whirling as she arched in his arms, her breasts rubbing against his armored chest. All the while, she constantly brushed her fingertips across any bit of him she could reach, the light caresses no where near what he really wanted. "Touch me. Really touch me. No one touches me.... I'm not a droid.... I still remember what it felt like...."

The pained tone of his voice brought tears to her eyes, and Kyra immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close to her as she could, even daring to rub her left leg against his metal calf. A sort of desperate keen left him, his body giving a shudder as he clung to her, his four hands rubbing over every single inch of her back and shoulders, the lower two dropping to her thighs to further lift her towards him.

Muttering Kaleesh endearments, Grievous rubbed the side of his head against hers, sensors along the front of his body singing happily at the sensation of her pressed tightly against him. The heat of her body warmed his armor, her hands clutching and stroking at every bit of him that she could reach, her caresses stronger now in response to his plea.

He returned the favor, leaning back to gaze down at her as he mapped out every inch of her face and throat with fingertips and palms, his two lower hands sliding down to her chest while his uppers trailed across her shoulders. A pleased growl left him as he cupped her breasts, teasing her by flicking her nipples for a second before kneading the silk soft flesh, watching as her eyes fluttered closed, a pink blush spreading across her face. The sight spurred him onwards, a frustrated curse leaving him as he nuzzled his mask against her left breast, wanting nothing more than to taste and suckle.

A particularly intense pulse of energy nearly sent him over the brink, his breath coming in rough pants as he shook his head and caught her wrists in his upper hands, pinning them above her head. "Not yet," he growled, drinking in the sight of her gasping under him in a mix of delight and lust as he rubbed his lower hands down her abdomen, purring in approval of the hungry look in her eyes.

Her hips arched towards him as he brushed the fingers of his right lower hand against her thigh, his gaze locking with hers as he slowly slid one finger into her, a low groan leaving him as receptors relayed how hot and wet she was. Hissing, Grievous transferred her hands into one of his, dropping his now free upper left hand to massage one of her breasts as he slid the second and then the third finger into her warmth, growling when she gasped and rolled her hips.

Shivering, he closed his eyes, centering his mind on how tight and wet and hot she felt, and lewdness be damned, he was definitely going to look into getting certain 'enhancements' for his cyborg form, because feeling her through his fingers just wasn't enough.

Bright yellow eyes snapped open to stare down at her, wanting to memorize the sight of her arching and trembling under him as he moved his fingers inside her, his lower left arm carefully repositioning one of her legs to give him better access to her. He brought her to the brink twice, stopping each time and waiting until her body had reluctantly calmed before stroking her again, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her. All the while, he reverently brushed his upper left hand across her skin, caressing every bit of her that he could easily reach.

Shivering, and greatly aroused, Grievous nuzzled his face against her chest, moaning when she gasped his name and arched towards him, one of her hands twisting in his grip so she could brush her fingertips against his wrist. Little shocks traveled along his upper right arm, leaving trails of warmth and pleasure in their wake. He growled at the sensation, repaying her by stroking her inner walls and delighting in the full body tremor the touch caused.

"Now," he growled to her, releasing her hands and closing his eyes when she immediately reached for him. A ragged purr left his vocalizer as he shifted his lower right hand, gently pressing his fingers deeper into her, quickening his movements, pushing her to climax. "Now. Want to feel...."

Gasping for breath, Kyra splayed one hand on his chest, the other grasping his shoulder as he stroked something deep within her that pushed her ever closer to the edge, her back arching as she cried out. Unlike the other times, he didn't let her pleasure wane, his hands continuing to caress her, even as he moved his fingers in and out of her, his lower left arm wrapping around her waist to keep her close.

Struggling to stay in control for just a moment longer, she moved her hand from his shoulder to stroke the side of his masked face, coaxing him to rise his head from her neck so she could meet his reptilian gaze. His golden eyes were filled with all the emotions and words that he couldn't give voice to, and she held his gaze for a heartbeat before leaning up to place a kiss just below his right eye.

The tender gesture pulled a full-body tremble and a desperate growl from him. "Kyra!"

Something inside her snapped, and she cried out as her climax ripped through her, her hands scrambling to hold onto Grievous as he jerked above her, a helpless howl of pleasure leaving him as the energy unleashed by her orgasm crashed into him. His arms locked around her, body trembling as every wave of her climax echoed into him, her awareness of him sharpening for one brief moment before all coherent thought left her, and all that was left was pleasure.

.

.

End Part 1

[idreamofplaid]

Finding Destiny

Square Filled: Plus Size for @spnkinkbingo & Late Presentation for @spnabobingo

Characters: alpha!Sam x omega!Reader; Madame Tremaine (OFC)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Y/N always felt like an Omega. Life told her otherwise, until tonight.

Word Count: 3027

Created for @spnkinkbingo & @spnabobingo

You smelled like a garden had exploded on you, a garden with some miscellaneous spices and nature smells. Truth was, you smelled like a mess, but you’d been desperate. Living as a Beta was like being invisible. 

You were convinced it didn’t help that your body wasn’t fashion model thin, or thin at all for that matter, instead having generous soft curves in your breasts, hips, and thighs. You had spent the last ten years watching Alphas and Omegas pair up, claim each other, shower each other with their love, devotion, and commitment. It had left you feeling more and more lonely, and food was your coping mechanism. The result of that was more pounds added to a body you already thought was too large.

Meanwhile, with each passing year, you felt more and more like life was passing you by. You, too, wanted to be claimed. There were no Alpha tendencies in your makeup; you were sure you were an Omega. You longed to be cherished, protected, filled with pups. Your untapped maternal instincts were strong, and you wanted to have a mate, be a mate. The Beta lifestyle wasn’t yours, so how had you been born into it?

Initially, when your heat didn’t come. You were confused, followed by disappointed, then discouraged, and finally resigned. Periodically, throughout all these reactions, you were devastated. The devastation overtook you when you least expected it, and then mercifully would leave again so you could function and pretend to be a happy Beta.  Had it stayed with you constantly, no doubt you would have fallen into a deep depression. 

It was that unwanted and sometimes paralyzing sense of hopelessness which always returned due to your Beta status that had sent you to the establishment owned by Madame Tremaine. It was rumored that she could bring on a reluctant onset of the first heat. That’s what you were once again trying to convince yourself this was, abandoning your previous period of accepting your fate. That’s all it was, a delay. Your body just needed some encouragement, a little push to get your hormones in motion. That first heat was going to happen; it was just slow.

So, it was in that frame of mind that you entered her herb shop at the end of a narrow street in an unfashionable part of the city. Wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with glass jars of various sizes that contained materials of every description. Dried flowers hung from low hanging rafters, and a display case that was filled with what appeared to be rocks and gemstones ran the length of one wall.

The bell over the door had tinkled when you entered the shop, summoning Madame Tremaine from the rear room of the shop. She pushed aside a beaded curtain that hung in the doorway leading to the back. She sized you up, her eyes traveling over you from head to toe. You were wearing a full skirt and a peasant style blouse. It was a cute outfit, but you still felt inadequate and self conscious about your size. For a moment, you felt a little pathetic because you’d come here seeking her help at changing what nature, God, the universe, or whatever had decided should be your lot in life. 

She was, of course, sleek and dressed all in form fitting black pants and a black shirt that emphasized her long, graceful arms and fingers. She had adorned those arms and fingers with turquoise rings and silver bangles, while large silver hoops hung from her ears. You were thinking of turning around and walking right back out when she said, “What brings you to see me tonight?”

You were determined not to stutter in spite of your nervousness. You could at least pretend to have a fraction of the confidence this woman so clearly possessed. “I’ve heard you can help Omegas with the onset of their first heat.”

She looked at you again. “How old are you?” You hesitated, not wanting to answer her question. You definitely should have left. This was so embarrassing. She lifted her chin and gave a wave of her hand, causing her bracelets to jingle. “Never mind. I’m sure I have what you need. It’s just a matter of finding the right combination of smells that compose your scent. Your body will then react with them and produce the scent on its own, triggering your first heat.”

For the next two hours, she had experimented on you with her herbs, flowers, and ground spices. She began with the flowers, explaining to you, “Very often an Omega’s scent includes a floral note. We only need to find the right one, then move on to the other elements.” It wasn’t tuberose, jasmine, violet, magnolia, or plumeria. She tried at least seven others before giving up on the flowers.

She moved to a particular row of jars with purpose. “Perhaps we should try something sweet instead.” The next round of fragrances she applied to your skin consisted of honey, vanilla, chocolate, coconut, sugar, and caramel. She was beginning to look a little perplexed, making you feel like a failure all over again. Not only were you unable to find a mate, now this wasn’t working either; but you needed it too. You felt like this was your last chance. 

“How do you know it isn’t working, Madame?” You had absentmindedly grabbed your skirt and started to twist the fabric.

“Because I’m an Alpha; I could smell it if you were producing your own scent.” Of course she was an Alpha, all the confidence. Her tone had been a little sharper than she had intended. You were, after all, a paying customer. She shouldn’t let her frustration show. Madame softened her voice and tried a different approach. Perhaps you are a more rare type of Omega without the usual sweet or flowery smell. Let’s give something else a try.”

Next she went for a smaller set of jars that contained spices and pulled some tiny stone chips that were near a larger blue stone from the display case. First, she used a mortar and pestle to grind the stone chips then added some rosemary to the bowl, grinding it up as well, and finally sprinkling in some almond oil to bind it together. Your curiosity got the better of you and made you brave enough to ask, “Why did you add stones? They don’t smell.”

“Ah, but they do; it is just very subtle,” she answered, “and sometimes just the catalyst that is needed to activate the chemical process that will result in you producing your own scent.” She applied this mixture to the inside of your wrist. Still, the result was nothing. After that, she went through the motions of trying a few more things, but you knew with each passing minute this had been a huge waste of your hard earned money. 

You left her store and practically slinked to your car, wanting nothing more than to get home to your favorite robe and a glass of red wine. When you closed the door with a heavy thud, your eyes landed on the gas gauge. Dammit. It was almost on empty. You wouldn’t make it home without stopping for gas. Perfect. There would be one more humiliation before this night was through. Gas stations in this part of town didn’t tend to carry out transactions through the pay at the pump method. 

Perhaps your tendency to be invisible would play in your favor this time you thought as you pushed on the metal bar to open the glass door leading into the gas station. Your last shred of hope at maintaining your dignity had been destroyed when you’d pulled up to the pump and found a sign attached to it just as you’d expected. Pay Before You Pump. Now you had to go into this store smelling like a cheap whorehouse. 

You made your way to the counter as quickly as you could, hoping to just put down your money, dash back outside again, get your gas, and go. You mumbled $30 on pump 3 and reached for your purse. That’s when you heard it, a voice that was just the right amount of deep and smoother than the honey back at Madame Tremaine’s shop. “Where are your apples?”

The guy behind the counter looked up reluctantly from his handheld video game. “We don’t have any. Sold the last of them this morning.” He turned his attention back to his game, and you turned to see who had spoken. What kind of face went with that voice?

The answer was the kind of face you saw on magazine covers and movie screens. The man with the sexy voice tried with the clerk again. “But I smell…” Then the gorgeous hazel eyes in that handsome face caught yours, and he tilted his head causing his golden brown hair to fall over his forehead. “It’s you.” His eyes narrowed a little.

Then something happened that had never occurred in your life. You were overcome by the smells of mahogany, champagne, and leather. The smell washed through you, entering every cell in your body, causing slick to pool in your panties, and your knees to go weak. You were beginning to sink to the floor.

The kid behind the counter finally put down his video game. “Lady, are you okay?” He was a Beta. He couldn’t smell any of what was happening two feet from him. 

The mysterious Alpha caught you. He held you up while he put two twenties down on the counter. “For her gas.” He helped you out to your car, got you seated inside, then filled your tank. He walked back to you when he was done and leaned down to put his hand on your shoulder. The smell was overwhelming now. It was heady, more than if you’d drunk the champagne instead of just smelling it. 

The Alpha kneeled in front of you. That magnificent voice had softened when he spoke to you. “I don’t think you should drive. I’m going to call my brother to come get my car, and then I’ll drive you home.”

Your head was feeling too light to argue, and there was a twinge of feeling bordering on pain starting between your legs. You nodded. “Okay.” Just like that. You trusted him, trusted him completely. It felt right what he was doing, taking care of you. 

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the headrest. His voice sounded farther away, and you caught snippets of his conversation as you attempted to navigate all the emotional and physical feelings of your first heat. “Dean, i need you to come get the car.” Dean must be his brother. You missed the next part and then, “I’ll explain it all later. Just trust me. It’s never been more important.”

He returned to you and used that same soft tone he’d had with you before. “C’mon, let’s get you home. He lifted you like you weighed nothing more than a feather and carried you around to the passenger’s side of the car. He settled you in the seat and walked back around to take his place behind the wheel. Then, he turned to you. “I’m Sam.”  His eyes focused on yours again. “And you’re my Omega.”

You gave him directions to your house, and when you got there he carried you inside, across the threshold just like you were a bride. “Where’s your bedroom?” It didn’t seem at all strange to have this man you’d just met in your house, or to be giving him directions to your bedroom. You wanted him there. The idea of him leaving scared you a little bit. 

Sam put you down on your bed, and that fear bubbled up in your heart. You reached for him. “Don’t leave.” 

He took your hand. “I wasn’t going to leave. Just go outside the room so you can change for bed. Your smell is so strong. All I can smell is you. It’s going to bring on my rut. So, I should probably put some distance between us. But I’m going to stay. Make sure you’re okay.”

You squeezed his hand. “I’m not. I’m not okay. I need you. This is so…” A huge gush of slick ran down your thighs. You cried out. “Sam, please. I don’t know what’s happening.”

A look of concern shadowed his gray green hazel eyes. “Your heats haven’t been like this before?”

You had a nearly vise like grip on his hand now; it was starting to hurt, and you grabbed his forearm with your other hand. “I’ve never had a heat before. This is the first one.”

It took a couple of seconds for Sam to comprehend what you’d just said. Then a fierce, protective gentleness filled his eyes; he didn’t let go of your hand until he was on the bed with you, then he took you in his arms. “I’ve got you, my Omega. It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

“It hurts, Sam. Why does it hurt?” This wasn’t what you had imagined it would be like to be an Omega. They’re had been no one in your life to explain it to you, and you were sure the books you’d read must be exaggerating.

Sam stroked your hair, trying to soothe you. “It hurts because you need an Alpha. Your body wants to be knotted. You need an Alpha’s knot.”

You held onto him tightly. “Will that make it stop?” 

Sam whispered, “Yeah, that will make it stop.” He kept running his fingers through your hair, and then he growled. His hand stilled; his body was shaking with the effort to control himself. 

His growling and shaking surprised you, and you jumped. “Sam, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He doubled his efforts to steady himself and stopped his shaking. “My body needs you too.” His voice was much more gruff than it had been before. 

You raised your hand to sink your fingers into his hair, just as his were buried  in yours. “Make it stop, Sam. Make it stop for both of us.”

While he was taking off your clothes, it didn’t occur to you once to feel self conscious about your lack of a flat stomach, the fullness of your thighs, or any of the other parts of your body you considered to be an imperfection. He kissed each and every one of them, while telling you how perfect you were. Your Alpha made you feel beautiful. 

The touch of his hands was so gentle, even while you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. When his lips first touched yours, it was like when the match meet the candle wick, and the flame sparks to life. Sam kissed you for a long time, causing you to produce more slick, getting you ready for him. 

When at last he broke the kiss, you looked into those eyes with the ability to change color; you saw into him, found that deep place where no one but his Omega would ever be allowed to go. “Were we meant to be together, Sam?” 

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” His eyes held yours, “I’ve been waiting for you so long.” The smell of leather was stronger now. It signaled the depth of the lust he was feeling, mixed with the more tender emotions.

You put your hand over his where it was still resting against your face. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m ready. Take me. Make me yours.”

Sam put his hands on the inside of your thighs and opened your legs. His eyes never left yours as he entered you slowly. The stretch pushed you to the limits of what you could take, and you knew it was nothing compared to what was to come when he gave you his knot. 

He moved inside you with a gentle rhythm that heightened your passion and your need for him. When you started to roll your hips in time with the movements he was making, Sam reached between your bodies and started to rub your clit. He gave you exactly what you needed, and an intense orgasm came crashing through you. 

While your body was still in the spasms of its release, Sam’s knot began to swell. “Yes, Alpha, yes. Please.”

Sam took you in his arms and rolled you to your side to face him while his knot continued to swell. He covered your face with soft kisses. “Are you okay?”

You clung to him, still afraid you might somehow lose him even though his body was firmly attached to yours. “Yes. This is what I’ve always wanted. You. I wanted you. I just couldn’t find you.” Tears started to slide down your cheeks. Everything about this night was overwhelming. 

Sam wiped away your tears, kissed your temple, and whispered in your ear, “Shh. i’m here. I’ve got you now, my sweet Omega.”

You buried your face in his neck. The smell of the leather was receding now, blending back in with the mahogany and champagne. “Are you sure I’m your Omega, Sam? I mean I know I must not look like the other Omegas you’ve been with.”

He held you closer to him. “Yes, I’m sure.” You felt a fresh wave of his seed pumping into your womb. Sam put his fingers under your chin and tilted your face up to look at him. “You are more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen.”

You smiled, and a different kind of tears filled your eyes. This time they didn’t fall. You felt secure. You felt wanted, and you felt claimed even though he hadn’t yet put his mark on you. He would though. You knew it. Sam would claim you, mark you, and you would be proud for everyone to see it. 

Sam brushed his thumb over your chin just below your lip. “What are you thinking, my Omega?”

You nodded just enough to kiss his thumb that was beneath your lips. “I’m thinking you were worth the wait.”

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness 

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @spnxbsessed @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner 

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Aftermath (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. The worst as happened, your dead. What have you left behind?

Warnings: ANGST! depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, discrimination towards addicts, mentions of drug abuse, javi and steve have terrible coping mechanisms.

Word count: 2k (short and sweet)

A/n: So I felt bad about how I left it last chapter, maybe this will heal it? Maybe it will make it worse. Either way, enjoy! 

Part 1 // Part 2 

[1 MONTH AFTER]

 The following weeks after your death was harrowing for everyone involved. Connie was beside herself and flew herself home for a week as she couldn’t stand seeing your empty apartment every day. Without his wife, Steve was falling apart at the seams. He was angrier, drinking more and his relationship with Javier was hanging on threads. Even when Connie returned he was unhinged. Javier was a mess, more than he would openly admit, it was obvious to everyone around him. He tried to find solace in alcohol and women but it didn’t work. Guilt surrounded him like a bad smell that he couldn’t shake. Together, Javi and Steve were reckless and ruthless.

The question of who killed you was still a mystery. The getaway vehicle had been found in Bogata a few days after the shooting, ablaze. Javi and Steve had waited for somebody to claim the killing but no one ever did. Cali and Escobar, even Los Pepes never said a word. Javier had tried to find your CI but they’d disappeared too. 

As with any death of an agent in the field, the DEA intended to investigate your death. Today was the day that Javier was to hear the verdict. He was anxious, he knew they needed help if they were ever going to catch your killer and this could be the final push needed to topple Escobar’s power. 

Alone, Javier drove to the embassy dressed in a nice suit and tie. He was hopeful, almost excited. If this meeting went the way he was expecting you would get the vengeance you deserved and this hell could be over. 

He entered the meeting room confidently but almost immediately stumbled when only one man stood in the room. Ambassador Crosby stood at the top of the large table, he greeted Javier politely when he arrived and offered him a chair opposite. Confused, Javier sat down.

“I’m going to cut the crap with you, Peña. We are not investigating Agent L/n’s death,” The Ambassador said bluntly. Javier’s stomach twisted, “I’ve been talking with everybody that needs to be involved and we all agree. She admitted her drug use to me, her death was entirely so a result of her ‘extracurricular activities’. I see no reason to use any more of the agency's funds on a rookie who went off the rails,” The Ambassador lit a cigarette nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dealt Javier a nearly fatal blow. Javier had never imagined that to even be a possibility. He was in shock.

“You’re joking,” Javier deadpanned. 

“I understand you’re upset, Peña, I do. She was a sweet girl, and from what I gather from Agent Murphy’s report you two were very close, but I see no reason to investigate further. She wasn’t a qualified agent we hold no loyalty to our usual promises,” 

“She deserves-,” Javier started, rage quickly boiling inside him.

“She doesn’t deserve anything,” He interrupted Javier sharply, “She was an addict. You should count yourself lucky I don’t have you fired. You knew she was breaking her contract and you said nothing,” 

“She was doing her job. She was a great agent and this never should have fucking happened. She deserves everything Camarera got and more!” Javier exclaimed. 

“You’re right it shouldn’t have happened. You were her mentor, you were supposed to be protecting her from exactly that kind of shit. She was never meant to leave your fucking side, what in the hell possessed you to think she could have a CI?” 

“She was a good agent,” Javier repeated, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“She was a kid,” The ambassador corrected him. Javier hung his head in defeat, “Get out, expect a call from DC too,” 

As if this waking nightmare you had left behind you could get any worse, now this. It was another blow to Javier's ego that he did not need. Without help from the agency, there would be no way to investigate your death and no way for any substantial closure for Javier or Steve. You would become just another name on the list of unfortunate souls lost to this drug war. They had dismissed you as if you were nobody. They had cleaned their hands of your blood without a second thought. That was not a luxury that Javier had. 

Javier was exhausted. The news felt like the final blow that had finally landed him on his ass. But he knew had one last thing to do before he could sleep, he had to tell Steve the news. Javier let himself into Connie and Steve’s apartment, the two were eating dinner together quietly. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and Connie passed the man a beer, which he took and swallowed down gladly.

“So? What did they say?” Steve asked, his mouth full of food.

“They said they wouldn’t investigate further because of everything that she was doing,” He replied after a moment 

“Shit,” Connie sighed, taking a big sip of wine. Steve looked between his wife and his friend, put his cutlery down and frowned.

“What do you mean everything she was doing?” Steve asked, “She was working with us, she wasn’t doing anything wrong,”

“She was doing coke, a lot of it,” Javier said bluntly, finding no other way to soften what had happened, “Guess she got it from her CI, I don’t know but she tried to fix it with the ambassador before she died and now they won’t investigate,”

“What?” Steve laughed in disbelief. Javier’s frown didn’t break, He turned to his wife expecting her to be just as shocked. She wasn’t at all. She knew, “How come you know about this and I don’t?” Steve exclaimed.

“She showed up on the street after Javi caught her at the embassy and I took care of her, made sure she was okay. She told me everything,” Connie explained.

“At the embassy?” Steve repeated, not believing a word he was hearing. He knew something was up with you but he hadn’t imagined it could be that bad, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it!” Connie exclaimed, “I thought you guys would have taken a bit more care with your teammate!”

“Hey don’t put it back at me!” Javi scowled at the woman.

“That's why you were so mad that day? Because you caught her with cocaine?” Steve asked, his volume increasing with each question, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,”

“Any of my- You’re fucking unbelievable Javi,” Steve scoffed, “Been here how long and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trusted her enough to sort it out herself. You would have freaked her out!” Javier said honestly.

“Look at all the good that did, huh? You got her killed! May as well have shot her yourself!” The words hit Javier like a slap in the face. Shocked, Javi couldn’t speak.

“Steve!” Connie exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Steve spat, stepping up to Javi. Javi quickly backed off, glaring at his partner and leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

In the hallway, Steve and Connie’s argument could still be heard. Javier’s anger was stopped by the sight of your door across the hallway. Someone else had moved in already. The door had been repainted, the chipped blue paint replaced with a glossy green, the number had been straightened and the smiley face sticker you put on had been peeled off. The world was moving on. You were just a passing character, never meant to stay long. You would have left eventually even if you hadn’t died. You were never meant to be permanent. Javi hoped the pain you had left him would be just as temporary but it was likely scars would remain.

He couldn’t repaint over memories of you. The scuff marks on his dashboard from your shoes would remain. The chipped mug you had claimed as yours would still sit on his draining board. Shaky polaroid photos he had kept from blurry nights in bars and a cartoon you had drawn of him and Steve on the back of an invoice all sat in the drawer of his nightstand. Those things would last. Part of him wanted to get rid of it all, burn it to remove you entirely from his life and pretend like it was all some horrible, strange dream. But he wouldn’t. You may have been temporary but your impact on him was permanent.

--

The next day Javier kept well away from Steve. He knew he would still be resentful, rightfully so, and he knew him well enough to know to just give him some space. They could get on with things separately until it blew over.

The news that the DEA would not be making a full investigation into your death had spread quickly and calmed tensions around the compound and in the embassy immensely. The Columbians didn’t want more American’s down here if it could be helped, everyone remembered the brutality of Camerana’s investigation and if a repetition of such events could be avoided it was a win for everyone.

Midday came and Javi took a break from hunting through seemingly endless transcriptions of taped conversations to sit outside in the sun. Guilt was piling up again with Steve against him too, he only felt worse. He couldn’t concentrate. Between his thoughts and the constant interruption of people trying to be sympathetic, Javi had had enough. He wanted to be alone.  A few minutes in the sunshine with a cigarette and birdsong would clear his head and he could be useful again.

Javier sat in the courtyard, looking out onto the training grounds and watched the recruits struggle under their training officers barking orders. He took off his jacket, letting his skin take in the early summer rays. On the way to being relaxed, Javier felt content. He didn’t think of you or Steve or anything other than the way the rays heated his skin and how the grass felt under his palm.

“Mind if I join?” Steve interrupted Javier’s moment. He too needed a quiet moment and while he was not completely over his friend’s concealment of the truth he didn’t want to struggle through the new emotions without him. Javier shrugged and moved his jacket to let his friend sit next to him. “Nice day,” He commented, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken at all since last night, avoiding each other like the plague. Javi grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigarette again.

The tension between the two men settled, they needed each other to get through this, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you man,” Javier finally spoke, breaking the silence. Steve was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to apologise first.

“It all happened kind of fast, I get it,” Steve replied, “She always was so efficient with things,” He chuckled. It was dark but the joke broke Javier’s frown.

“Bet Carrillo’s glad he doesn’t have her nagging at him all the time now,” Javi added. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s going to be nice without their constant bitchin’,'' Steve smiled, he paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet,” he added sadly.

The two fell silent again. He was right, everything was going to be quieter without you. Whether it was shouting at Carrillo for being an asshole, or singing along to the radio loudly while you're full of adrenaline after a chase, or even just your constant tapping and fidgeting. Life was going to be quieter without you.

“Ey! Peña! Murphy! Vamos, we’re going!” Carrillo’s voice called them back to reality.

The war wasn’t stopping for anyone, your death was just one of the thousands that had already been claimed by it. They would miss you, but both men knew they couldn’t let your short time with them hold them back. They would always carry you with them and their final win, when Escobar was dead, would be yours too.

NEXT PART

--

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