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pandoraslxna · 4 days

Text

Quid Pro Quo

Olo’eyktan Neteyam x female human scientist reader

Words: 6.9k

Summary: You owe Neteyam a favor. Luckily, the olo’eyktan has just the idea how you could repay him.

Warnings: explicit smut, oral, fingering, sexual tension, size difference, praise kink, cum eating, scenting, I actually hate this my writing is so bad here but I tried 😩

Notes: Neteyam art on the left by @cinetrix, art on the right by @sleeptight____ on Twitter 🩵

There is nothing you hate as much as the way the smell of the lab seems to seep into your clothes and stick to your skin after you’ve been working there all day.

When you get back to your tiny living quarters at hells gate after twelve or fourteen hours, you usually smell like dank, half-rotted crates and dust and damp concrete and dirt. It doesn't matter that you recently cleared out all the crates and sealed all the leaks and dusted until you were streaming-eyed and dripping-nosed, that the labs are as clean and sterile as you could make it. It still smells like what it is: an old, moldering wreck of a science shack.

Back at hells gate, you strip down less than two feet in the door, and then just stand there in your skin for a minute, stretching your arms, rubbing your temples, your eyes.

You’re tired and your back and neck ache from hunching over books and datapads all day, and it's another damned day with nothing to show for your work. Another day that feels like a waste of time.

Toeing the pile of clothes out of the way you sigh as you head for the bathroom. A nice long shower would be just the thing, relax some of the ache of your muscles and erase the stink of the labs from your nose.

Unfortunately, you can't have that.

The hot water heater serves the entire floor, and there's never more than a minute or two of hot water.

Once you‘ve made yourself get up at four a.m. to shower, because who the hell would be using hot water at four in the morning? Someone, apparently. You‘ve got three and a half heavenly minutes that time, but to your mind the extra minute and a half just wasn’t worth the effort of getting up so damn early.

Stepping under the water, you’re already fumbling for the bar of soap. It's harsh and smells blindingly antiseptic, but it's the only option the RDA ships to Pandora, which means the only thing the human-na‘vi resistance could raid. So it'll have to do.

The two minutes are up before you get the soap out of your hair and you end up rinsing it in water that's cool and headed rapidly toward freezing before you hurry out of the shower with a full on body shiver.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

The next day was just a repeat of the same events. Day after day, it was all the same.

Numbers and words were swimming before your eyes by now, and you could feel your head doing that awkward nod, lift, nod thing that told you that you were too tired to still be in the labs. But when the decision was between this, or coming home to an ice cold shower, nasty soap and an uncomfortable bed, work was a clearly the winner.

It's not like this research would be due anytime soon, or anytime at all, but you'd only just recently gained access to these files and data collected by Dr. Grace Augustine herself (thank you very much, Norm) and they gave you much more than anything those old dusty books could.

But in hindsight, they could’ve been at least a bit more entertaining. Not that it was essential boring to listen to Dr. Augustine’s fifteen minute long lecture about the importance of—

"Sleeping?"

Your head shoots up so quick, you nearly give yourself whiplash as you jolt awake at the sound of a voice laced with heavy na’vi accent entering the labs.

"No!" It bursts out of you like you’re a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar and for a moment you suffer in embarrassing silence as you wait for a response.

The contrast between his smooth, pale blue curved stripes and his much darker blue colored skin enters your vision as he takes place to stand at your desk to look at the holo you were studying.

With a sigh of relief to find that the intruder was of no danger, you rest your drooping head on one hand.

It‘s the olo’eyktan, Neteyam.

You’re a little surprised to see him here, since he rarely occupied himself at the labs, let alone show himself in interaction with the scientists working there. His siblings, his second of command and the clans tsahik, were the ones who paid a visit to everything that was lived and operated by sky people more frequently compared to him.

If he did let himself be seen at the labs, it was solely for the purpose of talking to you and letting his curiosity be known to everything you were working on at the moment.

It had always flattered you to know that the clans chief had grown so fond of you, but it was none the less unnerving to have such a giant of a man wandering around and prodding at your equipment, boring you with questions just to disappear again when it bored him. You’ve always wondered what he would even gain out of this, but shrugged it off as the olo’eyktans attempt to maintain the alliance between sky people and omatikaya, see what the tiny humans were up to while using the Clans resources and basically working under their roof.

"No, no I’m not sleeping, it’s just…"

He was so close now that you had to look up to see his face; could feel the heat emanating from his body and smell the fresh, earthy scent of his skin as he smiled down at you, board arms lazily crossed over his chest, resting just above his impressively woven cummerbund that showed off his warrior expertise. The armband around his biceps was stretched taut, and you couldn’t help but swallow down the salvia that pooled at this sight.

Clearing your throat, you quickly start again where you had left off, "I‘m trying to study this plant, we call it rain thistle. But it’s hard if you can only look at it through holograms and screens and super old recordings, you know?" With a sigh of frustration, you close the tab on your datapad and with it, the hologram that was projected onto your desk.

"Oh. Just get one to study up close." Neteyam says with a genuine smile, like it’s so obvious and you’re just a silly little human that wouldn’t have thought of that before, the most simplest answer. As if he was so oblivious to the struggle it would bring to even get close to one.

"Ha-ha, very funny," you can’t help but roll your eyes, a reaction that causes Neteyams hairless brows to raise in amusement. You know he didn’t mean to make fun of you, but still. "It only grows all the way up in the hallelujah mountains, near the banshee nests," you explain calmly, but you could feel your patience wearing thinner the more his grin widened. "There’s no way I could get one and come back alive."

Neteyam looks at you for a long moment, golden orbs entirely focused on you as he silently ponders, and then speaks up, "Ikran don’t eat humans."

You blink, considering.

Neteyams expression hasn't changed, nothing but mild curiosity, but you can sense his teasing through that grin on his lips.

There are about a million reasons as to why "just getting one" would surely end in your death and you‘re sure Neteyam knows. Still, you can’t help the sarcastic comments that only make him snicker at your frustration.

"Really? Great, that means I’ll live long enough to get the plant and then fall to my death on my way down."

Chuckling, he walks over to smooth a hand over your hair and leans in close to peak into the open books laying all over your desk. "Mawey [calm], I‘m just teasing," he purrs, causing all the fine hair at the nape of your neck to raise.

"A fkxakewll", he then says as if he has only just realized what you were even talking about, pointing at the printed image of this familiar plant in one of the books in front of you.

"That’s what I just said. A rain thistle. During rainstorms it opens up to reveal this “boll” thingy, a seedpod that’s surrounded by absorbent fibers. When the plant opens it promotes pollination in ideally wet conditions and allows the plant to absorb and store water in those fibers. This water storage mechanism helps the plant thrive without moist soil. I believe if we could somehow… I don’t know, figure out just how she does that, it could help us store more drinkable rain water at hells gate. And then we could start to figure out how to repair our water heater. It would make a lot of things easier for us, you know?"

The omatikaya man nods attentively.

"I see these almost daily when I feed oare [moon / name of his ikran]. They grow on a cliff, by a waterfall." He explains casually as he walks over to a microscope on the table.

It wasn’t his usual nature, but Neteyam could be strangely fascinated by the way the human technology at the labs worked once you coaxed him into it. His fingers twitched and he ran a hand over the equipment in front of him. It didn't respond to him as though he had the gene, but he still grinned with delight when you showed him how it worked and let him push the button to bring it to life and look at the little piece of fibre that laid underneath the microscope.

"I would do anything to get this stupid little plant…" You mumbled absently, letting out a groan before turning to your work again. With your back facing him now, you didn’t catch the way his ears perked up at what you had just exclaimed and his tail began to swish back and forth eagerly.

Raising back to his full weight and stepping away from the table, Neteyam then glanced around the room to find your back facing him, nose once again buried deep in your datapad. He couldn’t help but notice the way your hair was looking even messier than it usually did, how your desk was littered in empty coffee cups. A liquid that was well known to him due to his fathers heritage and strange habits that continued to stick to him even long after leaving his life as a human behind. Coffee is for when you’re tired. It keep you awake when you’re tired, he remembers.

"Hm. How about you get some sleep first?" He suggests with a low chuckle. "You can still take care of your little plant problem in the morning."

There comes another noise from you, a sound so quiet that his ears twitch to pick up the noise. "I‘m not exactly excited to get home so there’s no rush," you shrug, pressing your lips to a thin line.

"How come?" He quirks a brow.

Sighing, you explain, "The water at hells gate has been running cold for months now, everything smells weird and my bed feels like a slab of concrete. At least here I have a warm cup of coffee and a somewhat cushioned chair." You chuckle, albeit halfheartedly.

Neteyam nods understandingly, a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he furrows his brows.

"Why didn’t your people come to me sooner?" He cocks his head to the side, eyes scanning your face as if he was looking for an answer there. You didn’t know why, but it made you feel guilty for sounding like you were complaining about this to him.

You stare blankly back at him, cheeks tainting a faint pink. Truth be told, you didn’t know why. You just kind of expected him not to care, to not have time for such unimportant matters. Yes, he was the olo’eyktan, but that was exactly why you thought this issue wouldn’t concern him!

"I… We didn’t think— I mean, I‘m sure you have other businesses to attend to, more important things."

"But I am olo’eyktan, and you’re as much part of my people as the na‘vi are. I should hear about your problems at hells gate."

"We- Listen, we‘re already on it to fix this, please don’t worry about it. I’m serious. It’s just cold water, we‘ll live."

You don’t miss the way his deep frown did not disappear, not even as he excused himself for the night, a finger pressed to his throat comm as he listened attentively to whatever his second of command had to say, before he had to return to attend his duties at the clan.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

It’s not on the same day, because surely that would be weird, but when you get home a few days later, there's a small container in the little nook set into the shower wall where there wasn't anything like this when you had left this morning. You’re pretty sure you would remember if that was the case.

You almost don’t want to- can’t believe this could’ve been Neteyams work, but it smells like greenery, like heather and herbs, so much like him. Your eyes widen at the realization that it’s some kind of soap. And it's probably ridiculous to take this much sheer pleasure from shampooing hair, but you don’t give a shit. Fuck, you‘ve missed soap. It might not be the type of soap that you knew, but in a way it was actually really good smelling.

It’s so good, you can’t bring yourself to care, to ask yourself why and how. You’re just so incredibly grateful for this small gesture.

You’re ten minutes into your shower when it occurs to you to wonder when the hot water is going to run out. You frown, mentally calculating the degree to which you had adjusted the temperature, and yeah, you‘re sure of it.

You don’t even have to spin the knob all the way to the left to get heat. You lean forward and nudge the knob to the left, and the water, already comfortably warm, is almost instantly downright hot. You squeak and jump and nudge it back, and then straighten up and just stand there.

The water pressure is good, and the hot water shows no signs of abating. Did they fix the hot water heater? Install a new one? What the hell? When did that happen and why did nobody inform you of it?

For a moment, you debate getting out, thinking it might not be a good idea to press your luck, but then you can't quite make yourself do it. It's been fucking ages since you had a real hot shower, something that consisted of more than just jumping in, soaping up, rinsing off, and jumping out before you were frozen solid. And who the hell knows, it might never happen again!

So instead of getting out, you nudge the water warmer just a tiny bit, and give in to the urge to shampoo your hair a second time, which leads sort of naturally to deciding to use the paste on the rest of yourself as well, since it smells way better than the bar of soap and literally anything else you were able to call yours since you arrived on this exomoon. And finally, that weird scent of the lab is entirely gone, replaced by something natural and pleasing.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Working day and night at a lab with fellow scientists did had its advantages. Aside from the smell of working together for hours in such a cramped space, with no windows to open and ventilate the room, it also meant working with someone who understood irregular sleeping patterns, who didn't expect you to talk before you'd had at least two cups of coffee, who spent enough time in a lab not to care about healthy tans or perfectly coiffed hair.

Norm is a good colleague and an even better friend. You value him and his work, but god do you hate that little bastard for arriving here over a whole damn decade before you did and earning himself one of those super expensive and super rare avatars.

And while he’s busy on his field research project, somewhere out there with the other avatars, you’re once again stuck in the labs, nose deep in a book you stole off his shelve that’s older than Norm himself -cryo sleep included.

It was a testament to the sheer focus on your work that you didn't hear Neteyam enter the laboratory until he already stood -well, crouched- under the doorway.

"Good morning, sevin tawtute [pretty human]," he greeted you in a gentle tone, smiling with his eyes closed before stepping closer. The beads of his songcord clicked against each other as he walked over to you. It‘s the first time you’ve seen him this week and you’re startled to realize he’s not wearing any of his usual olo’eyktan attire. No fancy feather garments or an extravagant loincloth, but that doesn’t mean he looks any less beautiful. You‘re more than certain that Neteyam fulfills all na‘vi beauty ideals there are. Blame it on the human-avatar dna, but that man is build like a god.

Under normal circumstances, you’d crumble under his gaze like a crouton if he’d looked at you like this, a hint of mischief glinting in his golden eyes, but something tells you it’s nothing to worry about. One of his hands is bend behind his back and he grins, causing one of your brows to raise in suspicion.

"What?" You laugh, but still can’t help the slightest feeling of unease.

Neteyams grin only widens when he steps closer to reveal what is hiding behind is back, nearly towering over you once he’s right in front of you.

"No fucking way," you clasp a hand over your mouth when he holds the content of his hand out for you, "Sorry! But- oh my god!"

"A pretty flower for my pretty flower," he chuckles, carefully placing a handful of rain thistles into your hands.

The smile on your lips stretches so far up your cheek that it almost hurts as you squeak, "oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Neteyam laughs at your outburst of happiness, before you abruptly jump up to your feet, startling him with the suddenness of movement.

"Wait, don’t move! I have something for you." Off you go into a different room then, the sounds of you rustling through your bag fill his ears and he curiously bends to the side to peak over and see what you are doing. You return shortly, holding something in your palm that you offer him.

"Here," you say sheepishly.

"It’s, uhm, a bracelet. Kind of. Well, I tried okay?" You giggle nervously, holding the woven piece up for him to see. You had made it for him after yet another wonderful hot shower that reminded you that you still hadn’t thanked him for what he had done. "I know it’s nothing compared to the incredible artworks your people weave, but my teacher was Norm so, yeah. That should explain it."

Neteyam blinks, looks at the bracelet and then back at you.

"I made it for you. I really appreciate what you did for me- for us, this week. I don’t know how you did it, but I know it was you. The hot water and the soap, and now the plant too? Jesus, that’s incredible Neteyam. Seriously, thank you."

The na‘vi smiles as he picks it up from your hands. A sigh of relief leaves you when he starts to admire it. That must mean he thinks it looks at least decent.

"That is not necessary," Neteyam shakes his head then.

"No, please. You don’t have to wear it or anything, but please take it. I want you to have it. I don’t have anything else that would be of worth for you to pay you back so please take this as my sign of gratitude."

"Pay me back? With a bracelet?" His words send your stomach spinning, but the way he smiles so fondly at you sets you at ease. "Paskalin [Honey], that’s almost as sweet as you are."

There was an awkward moment during which you just stood there like an idiot, blushing over his words, stammering to form some sort of reaction. Neteyam only smiled at you— a confident smile. So confident, you had to take a moment to gather yourself, take a breathe and wet your lips because suddenly your mouth had gone all dry.

"You don’t have to pay me back." He then said, reaching forward to take the flowers and place them on your desk. With your hands now free, Neteyam used the opportunity to intervene your fingers, thumb stroking over the back of your hand. "Unless you… really want to give me something in return."

His tone was quieter. Something inside you latched on to that. You felt the conversation shift, the way an interrogation shifts when the truth's about to be revealed. Not that this was an interrogation, no. Not with the way he lifted your hand and pressed his soft lips against your knuckles.

Neteyam could probably feel the heat rising up through your body, coloring your face.

"I- Yes, if there’s anything I could give I’d–"

"I guess I could think of something."

Neteyam was studiously casual. Still testing the waters, yet again the fine hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as if the air was electrified.

With your back pressed against the edge of the table and Neteyam moving continuously closer, you were soon caged in by his giant frame. Both of his hands came down on the table top then to balance his weight as he leaned in impossibly closer.

Unconsciously, you held your breath and leaned forward slightly, waiting. Hoping like hell you knew what he was planning to do.

And then releasing the breath in a delighted whoosh when Neteyam grinned, eyes staring at your lips, murmuring, "I’ve been wanting to do this for so long," and closed the gap between you by pressing his lips over yours.

Kissing Neteyam takes your breath away, but not in a metaphorical way. His kiss is ravenous, the force of it tilting your body to bend backwards and his lips coax yours open with little effort as you're hardly putting up any resistance. You can’t stop the little moan from escaping once his tongue curls around yours. Neteyam explores your mouth determinedly, taking what he believes to be his. His thumb runs up and down your jaw, occasionally applying pressure to adjust the tilt of your head as he changes the angle of the kiss, feels your hair tickle his forehead. Noses bump and brush, he inhales your scent, groans when it’s just as sweet as you taste.

His kiss is powerful. It commands. Look at me. Touch me. Feel me. Only me. It leads you, your movements, the pace. He presses himself harder against you, towers over you like a mountain. Your hands are small, and they claw at his arms, his biceps, his neck. They pull and pull, yet he doesn’t budge, doesn’t move unless he wants to. You make a whiny sort of noise in protest and he grins against your lips.

Neteyams hand closes around your wrist then, guides it to feel and press against his loincloth and you gasp into the kiss. "Feel what you do to me, tawtute?" He nearly whispers, gliding your palm up and down the length of him. "Feel how hard I am for you?"

Fuck, he’s big.

It was plain to anyone with eyes that Neteyam was taller than literally any human on high camp. A good two and a half feet taller. Even taller than some of the Na‘vi. When you stood next to the olo'eyktan, you were dwarfed by his size. But feeling his cock through his loincloth like this made you realize just how big he actually was.

"It’s all because of you." He leans in close, lips brushing over your ear. "Always you." You hear him inhale, nosing your throat, groaning. "You’re driving me crazy, woman."

"I didn’t even do…," your voice comes out as a breathless whisper, "anything."

"Hmh, exactly." Your breath hitched in your throat then when you felt his tongue glide over your pulse point, sharp canine teasing your skin. "You smell so much like me," he whispers, "like mine." You nearly whimper once he starts to untie his loincloth, one of his hands guiding your smaller one to wrap around his length, feel his girth, the warmth of his skin, while his other hand glides up your neck and the back of your head. With the way his fingers brush through your hair and cradle the back of your head, your eyes flutter closed for just a moment before he murmurs into your ear, "I know now what you could do to pay me back, paskalin."

You look up at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed in a pretty hue of pink. Ever the gentleman, Neteyam carefully but determinedly pushes you down to your knees. His three fingered hand gently holds and caresses your jaw while you get in position to crouch on your haunches. He‘s so tall, it’s a struggle to get on eye level with the price, but once you’ve straightened your back it’s manageable.

Neteyams cock is probably the most visually pleasing part of any man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He‘s your first na‘vi, and you’re surprised to find him having little glowing dots all over the length of him. His tip has a slightly different shade of blue than the rest of him, but it looks so smooth and shines in bioluminescence pre-cum, you can’t help but lick your lips in anticipation.

Glancing up at him with eyes full lust, Neteyam‘s are a perfect mirror to yours. With a hand around himself, he nudges his tip against your pretty soft lips and you can’t help but kiss it back.

"Suck," he tells you, a little short of words, but he’s quickly forgiven. He just looks so good from this angle, abs flexing and chest heaving. So impatient to finally feel you like this, as if he was waiting for this moment for so long. With the way he groans once your tongue glides along the underside of shaft he might as well actually had been waiting. Too long, if you’d ask him.

Neteyam stroked himself a few more times before he let you take over, skin radiating heat from every point of contact, washing over you in waves once your fingers wrapped around him. He was far too girthy for your hand to close entirely around it -not that this was a problem.

It became a problem however when you tried to take him in your mouth too quickly after that.

"Easy, paskalin," Neteyam chuckled at your first pathetic attempt that ended embarrassingly fast in a gag. "So eager, huh? You have to take it slow."

You bite your lip at that, caught between the embarrassment and the unbearable need to have him inside you. Clenching your thighs together, you nod sheepishly.

"Stick your tongue out," the olo’eyktan orders and you obey without hesitation. Neteyam slowly pushes his hips forward then, gliding along your outstretched tongue. You don’t need to be told twice when he tells you to close your lips around him and start again.

You focus on his tip this time, slowly working over it, swirling your tongue around it, teasing the slit. You place wet kisses along the crown, before you continue where you had left off.

It all leads to a nice relaxed pace, and you spend quite a while licking and getting his cock thoroughly wet before you open your mouth wide enough to sink down.

"Hmh, just like that, now you got it," Neteyam groans, watching with half lidded eyes as your lips move further down his shaft. Inch by inch you bopped your head up and down his cock.

The slurping sounds you made in the process went straight to your core, sending a shuddering throb to your cunt that nearly made you loose your balance. A muffled whine caught his attention as you pressed your thighs together once more, and Neteyam grins down at you, stroking a hand through your hair. "It’s okay, touch yourself. I know you need it." You felt his cock twitch at the thought of seeing it become reality.

The strands of hair hanging into your face are obscuring your eyes and Neteyam finds himself annoyed at that. You look so beautiful on your knees, soft mouth wrapped around his cock. Nothing should get in the way of that view.

Reaching down, he tenderly tucks the soft hair behind your ear. The gesture makes you look up, meeting his gaze and he can't quite stifle the sharp inhale of a breath at the hungry look in your eyes, eyebrows pinched together as if you’re silently pleading to him.

"Come on, sevin," he purrs, "I want to watch you pleasure yourself before it is my turn."

Your right hand slips down your own body, skimming over your chest and down past the waistband of your leggings. The soft moan that escapes you, as your dainty fingers move over your clit, vibrate through his body.

The sight of you on your knees, sucking on his cock and loving it so much to the point you had to find relief in your own hands was almost enough to finish him right then and there. Heat creeps up your cheeks when Neteyam lets out a breathy groan.

"Eywa, you look so good when you blush," he says then, cupping your jaw and brushing a thumb across your cheek, feeling the tip of his cock through your skin once you hollow them. "You look even better like this, far better than I’ve always imagined."

His word encourage you to slide two digits down to your weeping entrance, circling your slit before you slowly push them in. Your eyelids flutter at the stretch.

"Look at you," Neteyam sighs, his hips slowly starting to work as he pumps his cock in and out of your mouth. "If I stopped right now, you'd beg yourself hoarse for more, wouldn't you, sevin [pretty]?"

You can’t answer in words, but instead drive your mouth down harder on his cock, moaning out what you hope sounded like a strong affirmative answer when you get the breath for it.

Neteyams eyes don't just stay open, they widen. His lips part, and he licks them, breath going shallow as he feels his pulse against your fingers working the length of him whilst you suckle on his tip. His cock's throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and it feels incredible.

Humming softly, you rub your tongue up against all these sensitive spots on his cock, finding a rhythm to the thrusts of your own fingers and the way your thumb was simultaneously circling your clit.

Neteyam just tastes so good, you would smile in delight if your lips could stretch that far. You suck harder, lips curling over your teeth and then the man above you moans.

"Oh fuck," he groans, fingers tightening just a little in your hair. "You've got such a good mouth on you..."

Shifting his hips he thrusts just a little more into your mouth, unable to hold himself back. Teasing is all well and good, but Neteyam‘s more than ready to come now.

You take the hint and drive your head down until you‘re nearly choking on his cock, all but mouth-fucking yourself on it. This time, the sound of your little gags doesn’t stop him though. With one hand holding your jaw and one holding a fistful of your hair, his hips buck and thrust into the welcoming warmth of your mouth. You struggle briefly, but then he coos softly, "Breath through it. Yeah, that’s it."

You concentrate hard on keeping your teeth out of the way as much as you can and just enjoy the feel of being used by the olo’eyktan like this.

Neteyam might still get an incidental scrape of teeth or two with you going this hard, but it's nothing deliberate; you’re just going fast enough and hard enough that it's more about giving him as much as you can than being easy and careful.

The squelching sound of your fingers prodding at your g-spot fills both of your ears and you can feel the tremors going through Neteyams thighs as that.

"I want you to tell me when you're getting close," he groans. "I want to come with you, paskalin."

This time, you pull back far enough to look up at him and nod, and then you curl your tongue around Neteyams cock on the way back down, moving back to gentle, slow, lazy licks and strokes.

Neteyam exhales a shaky sigh that morphs into a low chuckle, "yeah, good girl, take your time. I can hold it, sevin, just do as you like."

Another moan slips as you fondle with your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles into it with your slickened fingertips. Your hips squirm around from the white-hot pleasure tightening your core. No, you think, don’t hold it. You want him to come. You need it. It felt as if your own pleasure depended on him, as if you couldn’t let go unless he did.

The spell that the olo’eyktan had on you should be studied, you thought for a moment. You wanted to serve, to obey, to please him to bring yourself to that pleasure high.

Sliding your mouth tight over the pretty head of his cock, it was if you were trying to suck in a strawberry whole. The action sends a violent pulse through Neteyam that beats against your lips and makes you hum again.

The taste of Neteyam has engulfed all of your senses now, salty and hot and thick. You hear the breaths above and they throb like the pre-cum coating your tongue. You move your head forward again and swirl your tongue just behind his cock-head before dragging your lips firmly over it and off. Looking up, your eyes meet as Neteyam tilts his face and his chest tightens in time with his balls.

Slowly, you close your eyes and then open them again on a heavy pant, hand stroking the half of his length you couldn’t take in your mouth with desperate restraint, driving his arousal harder.

As you do so, you’re working the fingers of your other hand deeper into your core, thrusting and curling them just right, until the fabric of your pants was soaked in your slick. Too focused, you absentmindedly pull back up and mouth breathily around his cock, barely touching it but enjoying it bob and twitch as your breath and the edge of your tongue hits the sensitive skin. Sneaking your tongue roughly down to the base you then drag it back up the underside slowly and Neteyam moans.

Please, you think, as you stroke him faster. Please ... please come. You want it so fucking much and you can't help wondering if you actually wanted Neteyam to come more than he wanted it himself. You doubt it however, because the following groan from above lets you know just how close he was, how much he was fighting to keep everything at bay, to hold back and wait for you because he wanted you to come just as much.

He‘s thrusting into your mouth again and you’re driven on beyond your own desire to suck and savour by those hands in your hair, pulling your head in and away again, repeating this simple two beat rhythm on and on.

God, please. Your thoughts are becoming audible now in the form of little whines and whimpers that change in tone and volume with every movement of your head. He‘s so thick at his base, stretching your lips impossible wide.

More pre-cum dribs down your throat. Encouraged by that, you grab a couple of deep breaths and then relax your throat as best as you could, before moving your mouth further down. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging at the back of your throat, not even halfway in, and you have to draw back just to be able to still breathe. When you lower your head again, you manage to take in more, and the third time you nearly get it all.

"Fuck, tanhì [little star]," Neteyam hisses through clenched teeth, "so good, you feel so fucking good like this. My perfect little tawtute, sucking my cock like she’s made for it."

You can smell Neteyam even more the closer you get to his pubic bone, all sweat and sex and pure natural scents, and you instinctively try to breathe it in, choking hard on his cock as you do.

Sorry ... so sorry, you think swallowing down a gag and looking up quickly as you get your breathing back under control. You catch the way Neteyam wets his lips, mouth agape and staring down at you with so much primal need in his eyes, the sight hits you like a jolt of electricity.

You let out a high pitched whine as your fingers rub frantically over your clit. Shit, you’re so close, so so close.

Starving for the taste of his cum in your mouth, you swallows around his length each time it hits the back of your throat. Your saliva-slicked fingers go tighter, stroking faster, and you can hear yourself making that pleading noise again. Please ... please ... let me make you come ... God please.

As the first drop of cum hits your tastebuds, Neteyam lets out a throaty groan, "Come for me. Come on these pretty little fingers."

It’s all the confirmation you need to finally let go.

You feel the way you tighten in on your own digits, more slick running down your wrist as you prod your fingertips against your special spots. Thighs shaking, you barely manage to thrust them in and out of yourself as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. The feeling of sheer ecstasy was nearly enough to make you ignore the burning of your throat as Neteyam suddenly nestled himself as deep as he could reach with an uncoordinated thrust of his hips.

Your climax marks the end of his control, and he lets himself go. You moan in unison as rope after rope of his cum flows down your throat. The taste of it takes you by surprise. It’s awfully sweet and thick, and your mouth feels sticky with it. Neteyam comes a lot, and it’s almost getting too much before he pulls back to let his length rest on your tongue and allows you to gasp for air.

By the time you feel yourself floating back down to pandora, you had lost all sense of time, of place and person and anything but Neteyam.

You finally pull back when the tension in his thighs releases, and you swallow for the last time, wiping your fingers around the outline of your swollen lips to catch any stray wetness. Looking up, you’re met with his dazed expression, pupils blown wide, with sweat beading at his forehead, and entirely spent from this earth shattering orgasm.

"Great mother," Neteyam shuddered, laughing breathlessly.

"Guess we‘re even then, huh?" You smile up at him, voice hoarse, as you gladly take the hand he’s reaching out to help you stand on wobbly legs.

All that comes as a response is a chuckle, before Neteyam pulls you flush against him. "Oh paskalin," he purrs, hands greedily feeling up the backside of your thighs before hoisting you up to sit on your desk, "that was just for the flower."

You send him a sheepish little smile, cocking your head to the side and raise a brow, intrigued. His tail grazes your skin, gently swaying and curling around your ankle. Neteyam holds your gaze for a long moment, his grin spreading impossibly wide, until his fangs come into view, sharp tongue licking over pearly whites before he chuckles, "What about the hot water that I fixed, hm? And I got you soap too. You didn’t already forget that, did you?"

His teasing makes you grin.

"Right. Then how can I pay you back?" You ask, looking up at the man with those big doe eyes of yours. You know it’s unfair to play those little tricks on him, but you’re feeling bolder now that you’ve had his cock in your mouth and seed fill your tummy, so you bat your pretty long lashes at him as if you were begging for a treat. Neteyams presses himself closer, standing right between your thighs now before he lowers his face to your throat.

"You know exactly how", he says lowly and you feel his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your leggings. He‘s not exactly subtle with the way he presses his rapidly hardening cock against your thigh, so you let him pull your pants down with a smug little grin.

"I think I could get used to these little favors of yours," you whisper, watching with half lidded eyes as he hooks your legs up over his muscular shoulders.

"If that‘s the way you will repay me," his tip prods at your entrance, thick and hot and slicked with your spit, before he slowly pushes himself inside you, "I will do you as many favors as you’d like, paskalin."

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tearsofcalamity · 23 days

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Boothil has me on a chokeholdI want to fuck him so bad.Maybe install a few softwares, up his sensitivity, play with his mind.. Or maybe a lewd virus.. Make him so horny and needy, his head can literally think of you fucking him so good..Or him accidentally plugging the wrong USB, thinking it's his usual data after rebooting, but it's your USB and it messed with him.. I want to fuck his pretty hole so bad

hi anon this is tasty oml

imagine his sensitivity's been all off, some kinda glitch maybe from an incident during one of his missions. one moment it's been too low, and the next (just like now) it's way, way too high. for every other touch it's just annoying, but every time you've brushed past him today, he's failed to mention his issue with just how aroused he feels himself getting. it's different when it's your touch.

when he finally bucks up and admits that he's been having issues, you're so caring, so much more considerate of his senses (he wishes you wouldn't be - he really just wants you to fuck him dumb every time you so much as graze him) as you set out a few USBs and ask him to wait while you go grab some other tools to fix up his sensors. he asks what they're for, and when you tell him they're various types of sensations compiled into USBs to better test each type of touch, he figures he might as well just get a jumpstart with the testing so he doesn't waste your precious time.

he opts for the USB sitting the furthest away. the fool, he hadn't even asked you what sensation each one was before trying it out. it could've been pain, a ticklish feeling, but no, he got arousal. it was like he was overwhelmed like an animal in heat at once, his eyes shooting open as his cock strained against his trousers painfully. images of you involuntarily flashed through his mind, and he had to fight to keep himself breathing normally, but it was no use...

you get back to find him practically humping the air, strands of black and white hair sticking to his forehead as he pants and moans and begs for your help. you're concerned until you see the USB sticking out of his port and realize at once what he's done, lightly chastising him (horrendous torture for him in this state, surely, to have your breath so gently tickling his ear as he suffers) on not touching your tools without asking you first.

unfortunately, it'd be too risky to go in and fix this via his inner wiring while he's this worked up... it might burn you with how much he's overheating. so the only solution is to fuck his brains out until he's at least semi-conscious enough to cool down. good thing you made sure he'd be able to fuck in any way a normal man could when adding his sensitivity! giving him all the facilities is coming in handy.

poor guy doesn't even have the time or mental faculties to ask why the hell you had an arousal USB among the testers present.

ooooh, maybe use a toy on his cock while you pound into him... it'll give you a nice view of his face while he's being completely overwhelmed, his eye filled with hearts, rolling back as his tongue sticks out from behind those pretty lips of his. a nice, slick onahole should do wonders to cool him down after one, three, five... maybe more orgasms, even as he begs you to stop despite his hips continuing to rut into the gadget. the fun thing about fucking a robot is that he can go a lot more than a human can, and as much as boothill tosses his head from side to side, actual tears beginning to spill, you can also see the drool beginning to fall from his lips, his lolling tongue as he groans your name over and over.

he's got a pseudo-prostate that you make sure to nail with precision every time your strap slides inside of him, the impeccable design of his insides allowing you to slip in and out with ease. you remove the onahole from his weeping cock (another feature that aids the toy and your current activities as a whole), pushing his legs up and folding him in half into a mating press, just to see if he can cum only from his prostate. and cum he does - his voice coming out higher and higher pitched as he wails in both euphoria and humiliation at your treatment of him.

finally, you slow when you realize he has indeed begun to cool. his eyes are rolled back, hair messy and splayed across the table, harsh scratches made by his metal nails into the steel table (somehow). he's not quite unconscious, but he certainly can't form any further words, his breathing heaving with small, scattered moans as he tries to regain himself. his emergency cooling procedure had kicked into high gear at last, aiding you in fixing up his sensitivity.

oh, but perhaps leave that special USB lying around. mark it clearly, and pretend not to notice when boothill digs through your messy desk to find it and plug it back in, acting for all the world that he didn't mean to use that special little one on himself again. he's got too much pride to admit it, after all. oh well, it seems you'll have to help him once more!

#sub boothill #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #sub hsr #boothill smut #hsr smut #katze works n/sfw #n/sfw #katze's secret corner #I got carried away oops #I also want to fuck his pretty hole anon... kindred spirit...

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strawbeerossi · 1 year

Text

Jealousy

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever the team tracks down the unsub they are looking for, it’s up to reader to lure him out of the bar with nothing but her charm and charisma. Spencer however, just can’t stand watching it. He makes sure to make his feelings known to the reader later on.

Content Warnings: Post-Prison!Spencer, Jealous!Spencer, BAU!reader, case details, coarse language, Dom!Spencer, kinda mean!Spencer, sub!reader, possessiveness, degradation, praising, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (F receiving), fingering, hair pulling, spitting, aftercare, fluff at the end

Word count: 3k

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Well, here it is! Can I technically call this ‘Jealousy (Taylor’s Version)(From the Vault)’ ?

Spencer approached Emily, his brow furrowed with concern, as he held a file tightly in his hands. "Emily, we need to talk about Y/N's undercover assignment. I've been analyzing the data, and there are some significant risks involved that we need to address before we even think of sending her out there.” he began, his voice laced with urgency.

Emily, her expression serious yet attentive, met Spencer’s gaze. "I understand your concerns, Reid, but we've already vetted this operation thoroughly. Y/N is well-prepared and capable of handling herself," she responded, her voice steady and reassuring.

It wasn’t matters of him thinking that Y/N wasn’t prepared, it was him being worried because this unsub was taking women who fit her image description and killing them after doing horrible things to them.

The male nodded, his worry still evident. "I know Y/N is skilled, but the circumstances surrounding this case are unusually complex. I just want to make sure we have contingency plans in place and that we're ready to support her in any way necessary," he explained, his analytical mind racing with potential scenarios. She could have a knife pulled on her and be forced out, this unsub could drug her by sticking her with something, he could kill her right there if he figured out she was a federal agent..

After being released from prison, Spencer became a different man. He used to be more composed, now however, he was more temperamental. It didn’t help that Y/N was his girlfriend, the need to protect her being obvious. Besides, who wants to see their partner talking with a man who was brutally stabbing women and doing horrible things to their corpses? Especially when each of those women could’ve been her twin. That put her in a high risk situation that wasn’t a guaranteed arrest.

“Reid,” The Unit Chief let one hand come up to rub her face, the woman being tired of the argument. She could understand the worry and frustration, however this was Y/N’s job that she’d been doing for a good six years now. She knew the stakes as well as what she could or couldn’t handle.

“I promise that we will have this covered. We have surveillance all over the bar. Alvez, Simmons, and you are going to be inside, close enough to stop anything if things go too far.” She stressed the details, the woman just being exhausted explaining her decision continuously. “You aren’t changing my mind. I need you to understand that this decision was made with Y/N. You need to let her do her job.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N walked into the dimly lit bar, her gaze looking around for Marcus Black, the man’s face still fresh in her mind from the picture that Penelope had sent her while she was on the way over to the location, the woman trying to mentally prepare herself for the mental gymnastics she’d have to go through for this. It was a common misconception that undercover missions were much easier than having to risk it by assuming who the unsub is and building off the profile.

Y/N would argue this is much harder. You have to stand in front of a person who did unspeakable things to others. You have to get close and personal, be able to hide that overwhelming feeling of being disgusted, nervous, and even terrified. This was a man who was definitely bigger than she was in every aspect, being able to take her down if he truly wanted to.

That didn’t stop her from flashing a bright smile at the bartender as she’d approached the bar, sitting in a bar stool while ordering a vodka tonic. Across the room, she could get a clear view of Matt Simmons, the man keeping his gaze fixated on her as he gave a nod once the two made direct eye contact.

She had a wire, the team could hear everything from the earpieces they all had in order to communicate with one another as well as communicate with her, even if she couldn’t very well respond in an obvious way.

Although as Y/N was lost in her thoughts, she could feel a presence beside her, one that oozed darkness. The vibe had dropped tremendously low, however Y/N needed to keep up a façade or all of this will go to shit, something the team definitely doesn’t need right now.

Especially when they could just taste the capture that was going to come. “Hi.” The woman spoke, a charming smile gracing her features while her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her fingers playing with the straw in her drink.

Which as she had struck up a conversation, Spencer was quietly watching from the other end of the bar, nursing a full glass of some mixed drink in front of him just to avoid suspicion. He knew that she had to fake interest but that didn’t stop a heat rising in his chest, one associated with jealousy.

Seeing his girlfriend giving another man bedroom eyes, laughing at every word he said, even putting her hand on his upper arm was enough to make him seethe in his spot, hazel eyes focused on his girlfriend.

She was giggling, he could just hear it from his spot, probably telling him that she just couldn’t bare the thought of going home alone. He was just further pissing himself off thinking of the potential things she could be saying, not even tuning in to the actual dialogue because he knew it would’ve pissed him off much more than his own thoughts.

It was enough to make him clench his hand around the glass in his right hand. It was like his brain was trying to trick him into genuinely believing that Y/N was enjoying herself. He knew better, however the anger over the ‘what if’ had him shaking.

It reminded him of when he was in prison.

Y/N would come to visit him and it was one of the only things that got him through the hell, however the other inmates always had their comments. Saying explicit things about his angel, what they’d do to her given the chance to ever see her outside of those four cement walls. He wanted to keep his head down at the time but god damn, if this version of him was in prison, he would’ve been throwing fists and starting fights over his girlfriend, adding onto his sentence.

This was absolute fucking torture, Spencer’s leg bouncing in annoyance as he was using his opposite hand to put the earpiece in his ear, just in time to hear something that would have him absolutely livid. “I don’t think you could handle me, sweetheart. However if you’re up for a challenge, I’m always happy to take a precious little dove like yourself home.. However.. I don’t know if you could take what I’m going to give you,”

The male’s voice was the first thing Spencer was greeted with. “Is that so? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. But I promise, once you've tasted the forbidden fruit, there's no turning back.” Y/N countered, her voice low and in a seductive tone while her fingers were tracing over the rim of her glass.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, honey.” The man continued while looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Most women can’t handle what I offer. We make a wager..” There it is! Now tell her, you fucking fuck.

“If they can get through my little game, they get to go home. If not?” He began, reaching in his jacket pocket. Which was enough to make Spencer jump up from his spot before he was storming over, catching a glimpse of a knife being pulled from an inner jacket pocket.

It gave him probable cause to shove the man over the counter, making Y/N’s eyes widen at the surprise while she was jumping back.

“Marcus Black, you are under arrest for the murders of Christine Brailey, Jessica Fredricks, and Emily Knight as well as the attempted murder of Amanda Grey.” Spencer spoke through gritted teeth, the handcuffs locking tightly on his wrists before he was shoving him out of the bar.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N’s back was hitting the front door of the apartment as soon as she and Spencer made it inside, the woman gasping while she was trapped between her boyfriend’s body and the wooden door.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were enjoying yourself back there. I mean you were really trying to sell it, weren’t you?” Spencer asked, eyebrows raising as his hand was coming under his girlfriends chin to make her look at him. He looked furious, it was enough to make Y/N nearly fall on her knees right then and there.

The thing about Spencer was that he was much different now, prison changing him in many ways. He was still a good man, there were no doubts about that, but now he had more anger.

Which Y/N was the outlet he needed when he was having a hard time, fucking her deep into their mattress where she was soaking their bedsheets with her cum, getting to the point where she was crying from overstimulation and begging for more.

“Get your little ass in the bedroom.” Spencer spat, dropping his hand before watching his girlfriend scurry off, making a b-line to their bedroom. It took Spencer an agonising amount of time to lock up and make sure everything was turned off for the night before he was making an appearance.

“You know, I could tell you were truly enjoying yourself. How does it feel to be a fucking whore?” He spat, making Y/N clench her thighs together as she could just feel her arousal soaking her panties from the harsh words.

“Look at you. Fucking pathetic. You’re really getting wet right now while I’m scolding you for being a whore?” He asked, taking a few steps over before letting his hand tangle in his girlfriend’s hair, tugging her head up to force her to look up at him from the spot where she was sitting on their king sized bed.

“So cock hungry.” He spoke while letting go of her hair while working to loosen his tie, urging his girlfriend to take his belt off for him. However as she was moving to start on his pants, his hand was wrapping around hers. “No.” He began, using the tie he’d loosened and taken off to restrain her hands behind her back.

“You don’t get the pleasure of touching me tonight.” He scolded his girlfriend before pushing her back onto the mattress, his hand grabbing her right ankle before he was pulling her to the end of the bed.

The black dress she wore had a perfect eyeful for him, her tits threatening to spill over the top as he was running his large hands over her body, fingertips tracing over the straps before he was pulling them down, letting her breasts out of their confinement while he groaned lowly. He had seen her body so much and he could navigate it with ease, but seeing her was always like the first time. Just.. He knows what he’s doing now and he’s not as nervous. “Fucking gorgeous.” His voice was low while he was using no effort at all to tug the dress down her legs, throwing it somewhere on their bedroom floor.

“The point of panties is to have something to cover you up.” He spoke lowly, chuckling as her needy, swollen cunt was practically swallowing the fabric of the panties that were on her hips. With a soft hum, his fingertips were running across her covered slit, collecting her arousal on his fingers while sighing, his head shaking.

“Look my angel. Who’s got you this wet?” He asked, his hands pushing her thighs apart more, falling to his knees at the edge of the mattress. “Y-you.” Y/N was whispering, shaking with anticipation as she was really desperate for something, anything. She knew the game Spencer was playing though.

“Damn right,” He gave an arrogant smirk while blowing cool air on her soaked pussy, a chuckle leaving his lips at the pathetic mewl that fell from her lips. “That’s right. Me. Because you’re mine, Y/N. Gonna show you what happens when you get too into flirting when you only had to do the bare minimum.” He murmured, his fingers hooking in the waistband of the black panties, tugging them down her legs while discarding of them somewhere on the floor.

Spencer was delving right in, eating her as if she was his last meal and he was a starved man, the way Y/N’s whines and cries making his cock stand at attention. However it wasn’t long until he was pulling away, tongue paying attention to her throbbing clit while two of his long fingers were being pushed into her without warning.

Her pussy was clenching around the digits, her back arching off of their sheets as she was blabbing her own praises, even if she wasn’t making too much sense because she was a sobbing mess as she could feel those long fingers curling.

Her hands were still bound, grabbing onto her own wrist, although she’d rather have her fingers in Spencer’s hair and being able to shove his face against her more. However, it was all crashing down when Spencer was pulling away, the male chuckling as his girlfriend was looking up at him with tears in her eyes. She was desperate for relief.

“Shh.. I know.” The male chuckled, now getting off his shirt, shedding his slacks as well before his boxers were the last to go. He was getting situated, his hands wrapping her shaking legs around his waist while he was spitting onto her already soaked pussy, the tip of his cock teasing her desperate cunt by spreading the sit around as if she needed to be lubed up.

“Alright, angel. Are you ready for my cock or do you need my fingers a little longer?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. Even in his state, he’d always ask before going too crazy. Last thing he needed was to hurt her.

“Cock!” Y/N blabbed immediately, eyes glossed over while her hips were rolling in an attempt to get some sort of friction, clenching around nothing as she was left to lay there helpless.

“Answer any faster, why don’t you? Someone is eager..” Spencer chuckled, however he was getting quite desperate himself. So, he wasn’t wasting time before his cock was pushing into her cunt, his head falling on her shoulder while he let out a low groan.

Y/N was letting out a drawn out moan, a few whimpers following after. There was always a delicious stretch, the pleasurable pain having her squirming and trying to push herself against his cock for more, the only thing stopping her was a strong hand on her hip.

“Patience. I’ll pull out right now and cum on your stomach and leave you here to squirm. You know better than this.” He warned, his voice low as he kissed the spot under her ear.

Feeling his rock hard cock stretching and stuffing her felt beyond amazing and she loved it. Once he was bottoming out, Spencer wasted no time in beginning to ram his cock into his girlfriend.

The feeling of her velvety, plushy walls was always enough to drive him insane. It was like she was made for him, not even just her body but her as a person. She complimented him so well and he did the same with her. It was safe to say that she was his person. Emphasis on his.

The sinful sounds of skin slapping against each other and the moans, whimpers and cries from Y/N were filling the once quiet bedroom. Their neighbors hated them enough, Spencer could already hear the complaints from the woman next door. She’d already made several noise complaints in the past, which Y/N would joke with Spencer that it was because she hadn’t been touched in a good thirty years. What a life that would be.

Spencer kept up his steady, relentless thrusts. His goal was always to have Y/N cum first, mainly because the mere sight of her creaming around his cock was enough to make him explode. “Sp-Sp.. I-I… C-Cu-“ That was all he got out of her before he knew exactly what she was trying to convey judging by the way her cunt squeeze tightly around him, a cry leaving her lips as she was doing hitting her orgasm, her back arching off the mattress as her nails were digging into her wrists.

“Fuck!” She cried, Spencer giving a few more sloppy thrusts before long ropes of his sticky cum were beautifully decorating her inner walls, his thrusts fucking it deeper into her while he was slowly coming down from his own high.

Y/N was in full orgasmic bliss, her face flushed, her eyes glossed over, her once neatly done makeup running down her face as well as her face being all over the place. She was fully fucked out, making Spencer lean down and press a few loving kisses against her lips before he was pulling out and pushing himself to stand.

He disappeared off to the bathroom for a few moments, getting a warm bath ready for his girlfriend before heading back to the bedroom, a soft hum leaving his lips as he was carefully picking up his tired, fucked out partner.

“There we go. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He breathed, the woman letting her arms loosely wrap around his shoulders. She was still in the stage where she was crashing down from her high, so he was placing her gently in the warm tub before grabbing a washcloth.

As he was washing his girlfriend, he was looking up at her face once he could see the content smile on her face. “Hi,” He whispered, the two sharing a little giggle amongst each other. “Hi.” Y/N responded, leaning over to press a kiss against her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I hope you know, I might be flirting with more people more often if this is the outcome.” She joked, making Spencer laugh.

“Like hell you are.”

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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 5 months

Text

𝙰𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚊 - 𝙰𝙱𝙾 𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft Unknown Omega/First Heat, stepcest, claiming|mating + Daddy Kink, fingering, belly bulge, creampie, knotting, breeding

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own BNHA or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: includes stepparent-stepchild stepcest and large age gap(R: early 20s, A: late 40s-early 50s), obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

WC: 4,375

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

“Daddy! Can you drive me to the mall? I gotta get my phone fixed!” You called down the stairs to your stepfather. While you had your license, you didn’t have your own car and your stepdad’s was the only car you could use, though never without his permission.

“Sure thing, sweetheart! Just meet me in the car when you’re ready to go?” You heard his deep voice call back up to you. His deep, gravelly voice had an odd effect on you today. You had always known his voice was hot, though you tried to not let your mind wander too much. Today, though, it sent a shiver down your spine and just about made you weak in the knees. Literally. You felt your knees almost buckle below you.

“What the..” You muttered but just shrugged it off as your mind still being a little hazy from sleep. So you continued to slide on your clothes and pack your messenger bag.

“You almost ready, princess?” As you heard his voice again, the same shiver shot down your spine and a warmth planted itself in your lower belly. Now chalking it up to simply being hungry, you just grabbed your bag and threw the strap over your shoulder.

“Coming, daddy!” You heard the door close though it didn’t latch and you jogged down the stairs to meet your stepdad at his truck.

“Morning, princess. What’s wrong with your phone?” He asked when you climbed into the passenger seat.

You looked over at him and noticed his long black hair was tied back in a loose bun that hung low on the back of his head and his stubble was growing back from when he’d had to shave it for a meeting with the school board of the High School where he works. He wore a tight-fitting long sleeve black shirt and simple dark blue jeans with his normal black boots. His normally tired eyes didn’t quite seem tired but they were still lidded in an easy manner.

“I have no clue when it happened but the screen is entirely cracked and it looks like someone ran over it with at least a dirt bike..” You grumbled, twisting to pull your seatbelt across your body, leaving a hint that your stepbrother might have been responsible, though your stepdad seemed to gloss over it. He probably chalked it up to your constant butting heads with his son.

“Huh, well, hopefully, they can fix it quickly, it’ll be bad if no one can reach you if you go out on your own.” The rumble of the engine shook the truck and he started on his way to the super-mall in town since that was the closest place with a cell phone shop.

“While we’re there do you wanna get some food? I’m starving!” You announced with a slight laugh, seeing an amused smile playing on the Alpha’s features as he shook his head at your dramatics.

“Sure, princess, we can get some food. You okay with the stuff they got in the food court or do you wanna check anywhere else out?” He asked glancing for half a second at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Hmm.. Well, I’ll probably have to leave it with them to see if they can salvage it, or at least my data, so we should probably stick close.” You reasoned, thinking of places in the mall with any good food.

“Good thinking, we’ll get there and see where our bellies take us.” He chuckled, patting his hand down on your thigh which made you laugh more with his sentence. He fully turned to look at you with his amused smile when he finally parked at the mall, which you hadn’t realized you’d arrived at.

Having been so caught up in conversation, you hadn’t realized that you felt really warm and a haze starting to infect your mind. As you moved to leave the car, you felt an uncomfortable throb in your nether regions. Pushing it to the side in favor of getting your phone fixed, you trudged forward with the tall black haired man into the mall.

“You feeling okay, sweetheart? You look a little red.” Said man asked, lifting his hand to rest it on the side of your neck opposite him, slightly wrapping his arm around you. The touch on your scent gland felt better than you ever could have imagined and your instincts all but screamed at you to curl into his body, but you resisted any and all reaction.

“Y-yea.. Maybe it’s just the summer heat catching up to me, I guess I might have put on one too many layers,” You reasoned, forgetting that you only wore one layer over your underwear, as just a tank top and leggings.

“Hmm.. Okay, but if you start feeling off you tell me, alright? I’ll drive you home and come back to grab your phone if I need to.” He kept his arm around your shoulders, though he removed his hand from your neck. The loss of contact made you inexplicably want to whine. ‘It’s probably just because I’m feeling weird so I want the comfort or something..’

“‘Kay, thanks, Daddy.” You slightly leaned into him with a content breath and he just wrapped his arm further around you as you both walked through the bustling hallways. Finally reaching the cell phone shop, you were glad you didn’t have to wait too long to reach the desk.

“How can I help you- Oh! Aizawa Sensei! What are you doing here?” The green-haired Beta teen behind the desk greeted the black-haired Alpha.

“Midoriya,” Your stepdad greeted back with a slight nod, “I’m here with my stepdaughter, her phone is busted so we need to get it fixed.” He simply explained, vaguely gesturing to you with a glance, you still being tucked into his side and still looking slightly flushed.

“Oh, hello! Are you feeling alright?” The Beta, Midoriya as it seems, asked with worry upon seeing you flushed and leaning into your stepdad.

“Mhm, fine, thank you, just a little off today,” You offered with a smile which seemed to appease the boy.

“Well, alright then! What seems to be the problem?” He offered a smile of his own in return.

“You tell me,” You chuckled, fishing your phone out of your bag as you moved to stand on your own away from the comfort of your Alpha stepdad’s side. You placed your phone on the counter and badly concealed a laugh at the way the green-haired boy’s equally green eyes nearly bulged at the sight.

“W-What happened??”

“Not sure. I left it on the kitchen counter to make dinner and I couldn’t find it for an hour or so afterwards and suddenly it appeared like that in my room. I personally suspect my stepbrother..” You muttered at the end, earning another chuckle from the man beside you.

“I think you’re just looking for an excuse to blame him for something, sweetheart.”He teased, setting his hand on your shoulder as he sent another amused grin at you as he eyed you out the corner of his eye, making you ‘Hmph’.

“Well, I’ll have to check with the Techies if this can even be salvaged, and if not we’ll do whatever we can to retrieve your data. Either way, it’ll be a while so if you just want to stick around the mall until it’s ready, that’ll probably be best. Aizawa Sensei, we can let you know when it’s ready since the time can vary by whichever process is needed. Either way, I’ll get you guys a discount.” He lowered his voice with a mischievous smile and a playful wink.

“Thank you so much! You are a lifesaver! If I don’t have my phone I’ll pretty much be confined to the house without a chaperone,” You chuckled.

“Thank you, Midoriya. We’ll stick around near here until then.” Your stepdad said, giving a small nod of appreciation. After leaving your phone in the care of his student, the Alpha lead you out of the shop and started walking in the direction of the food court.

“You still hungry, princess?” He leaned down to speak into your ear from how loud the corridor was with the people yelling speaking loudly to each other. The closeness and feeling of his breath on your ear and neck sent a shiver wracking through your body and your knees weakened leading to you falling into his embrace, though it could easily be passed off as simply leaning back into him.

“Uhm.. A-a bit, yea..” You said, moving to lead him to the restaurant stations before he could question your stutter.

Once you arrived you were then even more flushed and you felt heat rising in every part of you, between your legs throbbing even more with a sort of cramping fire in your lower belly. You were panting and the haze in your mind had even more of a hold on you now. As you entered the dining area you could feel all the sensations overwhelming you.

“Daddy..” You whined, entirely falling into him for support as your legs couldn’t keep you up any longer.

“Y/n…” The Alpha muttered out your name, his arms wrapped around your back, keeping you up. His voice was huskier and thicker and when you brought your head up to look at him, you saw his pupils were blown and his nostrils were slightly flared.

“Daddy… It.. It hurts…” The heat was overtaking your body and the throbbing between your legs was verging on painful, your lower belly feeling just about on fire and an ache building inside that your instincts knew the solution to. It was your instincts that told you that that ache you felt was from the emptiness you were so hyper-aware of.

“D-Daddy… Please.. Make it stop.. Make the heat go away.. Please… Alpha..” As soon as his denomination left your lips he had your neck craned up, cradling the back of your head, his lips locked with yours. Your mouths moved clumsily against each other, teeth bumping and saliva leaking down your chins as your tongues tangled wetly. Your pheromones leaked out in droves and made every Alpha in the area turn and look.

‘Unclaimed Omega! Just presented!’ All of their instincts practically screamed at them. When they turned and saw an Alpha already ravaging you, their jealousy and competitiveness flared. A few started moving towards where your stepdad had hoisted you onto a table and started ripping your tank top off your body.

The second that your Alpha stepfather noticed other Alphas encroaching on his Omega- stepdaughter- he turned and planted his hands on either side of you. His hands, were far enough behind you to shield you from the Alphas trying to sneak a peak. He then let out the most vicious, possessive growl you’d ever heard from him and it sent another shockwave of need through you.

“A-Alpha..!” You let out a whiny moan, catching his attention once again. He dipped back in, making quick work of shredding the rest of your top, and started laving his tongue over your scent gland. His mouth pressed against your Claim Site made slick pool in your underwear and your need to submit grew even stronger. Suddenly, he stopped. He pulled away from your neck and clenched his teeth.

“Fuck… Can’t claim you… Fuck, I’m so sorry, princess.. I’ll make it stop hurting.. but.. I can’t claim you. No matter how fuckin’ much I fuckin’ want to, princess..” He muttered in your ear. You didn’t entirely know what exactly he was talking about but you knew it made you whine and let out a whimper. “Shh, it’s okay, princess. I’ll make you feel good, okay? That sound good, Omega?” At the sound of the title, it’s like something snapped in you and you didn’t let yourself wallow in the confusing distress his proclamation caused and only focussed on trying to get his clothes off, or at least enough that you could reach your end goal.

“Alpha.. Alpha, please.. Need.. Need a…” You tried to beg but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. Your stepfather assisted in your messy rush to get his pants open with one hand while the other lifted your chin to press another sloppy kiss to your already swollen lips.

“Need a knot, princess, ‘n’ I’m gonna give you one. Promise.” He growled out against your lips in his sultry voice.

“Yes!” Your instincts cried out that that was exactly what you needed, ecstatic that your Alpha was going to give it to you.

“Just hang on a second, ‘Mega, ‘kay?” He asked, trying desperately to stay calm and not lose his head. He knew that the second he gave into his instincts fully he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from claiming you. You, his little stepdaughter who still calls him Daddy, even though you’re already 19. 19, and only now presenting, as an Omega, at that, 3 years late which led to the assumption you were a Beta. Oh, how wrong they all were.

He deftly hooked his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and shimmied them down enough to hook into your panties as well. Quietly instructing you to lift your hips as much as you could, he slid your leggings down to bunch around your knees. The scent of your slick grabbed the attention of everyone around, not just the Alphas, drawing in Betas, too. The power of a freshly presented Omega surely was a dangerous one.

“Fuck, princess… You’re drawing everyone’s attention..” Your stepdad growled out in a sort of prideful possessiveness like he was glad that everyone was not only watching but desperately wishing they could take his place, “They can all smell your slick..” He smirked as he bit his lip when he dragged his fingers through your lower lips. The feeling on your oversensitive cunt had you throwing your head back and letting out a loud keen.

“D-daddy..!” You moaned loudly when he dipped two fingers in, both going in easily with extra space left over. Taking advantage of that, he slid a third finger in to join them, adding to your pleasure, finally feeling a stretch.

“Fuck…” You heard one of the bystanders moan lowly, making you look around and notice all the people watching with varying mixtures of lust, jealousy, and fluster.

“Ahh.. Daddy.. They’re.. they’re watching..” You got out with a moan, though you were far from dissuaded by the audience.

“They are, ‘Mega. They’re all watching you. You’re so fucking gorgeous they can’t take their eyes off you..” Your stepdad told you, spreading his fingers and giving you an even more delicious stretch.

“Please! Alpha! Please! Need you.. Need your knot!” You begged loudly, purposely glancing around and watching the reactions of all the other Alphas around you. All their eyes were firmly on you, some of them had even pulled their own cocks out and began stroking them.

“Of course, princess..” Your Alpha promised, leaning in once again and pressed his lips to yours, “Whatever my Omega wants..” He let out a husky growl into your open and panting mouth as he reached to lift your legs to align with his torso in parallel.

Then, finally, you felt what you had been needing for what felt like forever. You felt his cock pressing against your awaiting hole, trying to press in, to fully breach you.

One gutsy Alpha from the crowd decided he’d had enough watching and wanted to shove his knot inside of you if your stepfather was going to take so long. He stepped forward and let out arrogant and dominating pheromones to hopefully make the black-haired man step aside and simply allow him to dominate you instead.

The moment your Alpha smelt the other Alpha approaching and sensed his intent, he did 2 things simultaneously that made you tense up in an immediate orgasm.

He whipped his head around and let out a growl so possessive and protective and downright threatening. The other Alpha not only backed off but immediately submitted and bowed his head, his arrogance having entirely evaporated.

At the same time, he slammed his hips forward and bottomed out in one thrust. You felt the tip of his cock immediately make contact with your cervix and it only confirmed what your instincts had been latently screaming. He is the perfect Alpha, he fills you perfectly and it’s as if he was always meant to be there, situated inside you, filling you wholly.

The growl he let out shook through his entire body and in turn, it reverberated inside you as well. You felt the vibrations against your clenching walls and you even felt it where his pelvis was pressed flush against the backs of your thighs. The neatly trimmed hair at the base of his dick pressed right against your clit.

“F-fuuucckk-!” You nearly screamed at the instant feeling of fullness. Your stepfather’s hands gripped tightly against your legs, still up and flush to his chest, forcing himself to keep his hips still to let you adjust to the size. He hadn’t given you time to accommodate him as he went in so he worried he would only harm you if he started right away.

“P-please!! D-Daddy-! Move! Move! Please!” You could only beg for what wholly occupied your hazy mind, only knowing your need to be thoroughly filled and bred. That was all he needed to hear as he leaned forward, just slightly, enough to let your knees fold over his shoulder.

Giving you a silent warning with his eyes, he started moving his hips, pulling out until only the tip was left. From there, he immediately began a rough pace. The table he had lifted you into, which you vaguely noted at some point was bolted to the floor, began to shake with the force of his thrusts. His left forearm wrapped tighter around both of your thighs as his other hand snapped to grip your waist in a way that felt like it was divined.

“Fuck, Omega.. Fuck, princess.. You feel so fucking good,” his stubble scratched pleasantly at the flesh of your thigh as he spoke, nipping them every once in a while, “so fucking perfect, ‘Mega..” His words began to slur as he lost himself to the feeling of your cunt gripping down on him like a vice.

“Alpha.. Alpha!! Need.. need your cum, please! Fuck, Alpha, please!!!” You simply shouted out what your Omega was telling you, not even knowing if you were getting any coherent words out at all, though that didn’t matter to you. Not to you, not to the raven-haired Alpha plowing into you, not to any of the bystanders enjoying the show.

With your head thrown back in pleasure from the delicious scrape of your stepdad’s cock against your walls, you could faintly gather that a couple of Alphas had paired with the watching Betas. They plowed into them at the same rhythm you felt your hips clashing with your stepdad’s. It seemed at least one had even already knotted and was simply humping in tandem.

Many other cocks were visible as well, being fucked into fists or simply teased, some were buried in the throats of Betas and the few other Omegas alike. You almost felt envious of the Omegas getting to choke on a cock, your mouth feeling empty for a split second before a loud cry of pleasure was ripped from your throat.

Your stepdad had used his Alpha Claws to shred your leggings right down the middle and, almost simultaneously, pressed your knees to your chest. He leaned forward even more, adding a slight burn to the backs of your thighs, though you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your knees were now thrown over both shoulders as he relentlessly pounded into you, hitting all new spots from the new angle.

You could feel his cock head drag over your g-spot before it rammed into your cervix, again and again, as if it were demanding entry for itself. Your lewd moans and the wet slapping of skin against skin, along with the loud squelch of your cunt, still gushing slick were reverberating around the entire dining area. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sounds reach all the way back to the Cell Phone Shop.

Soon enough, you felt the beginning of his knot forming and catching on your hole the more it inflated. The feeling of it pushing its way into your sopping hole, again and again, was going to drive you insane. After a few more thrusts and the recognition that his knot was nearing full, your Alpha stepfather shallowed his thrusts just enough to only leave his knot out until he reached full capacity.

His thrusts stayed fast but eased up on their force, making you let out an instinctive whine. You needed to be filled. Filled to the brim! No shallow thrusts! No soft thrusts! You needed a knot!

Luckily, it seemed your prayers were answered almost immediately as his knot reached full inflation and after only a couple more thrusts, he rocketed his hips into yours and shoved his knot inside you. The stretch of his large knot made you cry out in ecstasy from the sting of it forcing its way inside you. Finally. Finally! You had the knot inside you that you so desperately needed.

Mere moments after his knot was fully settled inside you, you felt his hot cum shoot out inside you and fill you to the brim. It was only then that you had been able to notice that his cock alone had managed to cause a bulge in your belly from how deep it reached and the bulge only seemed to grow with how much seed he was implanting in you. In your womb.

Faintly, as if from far away, you heard most of the audience you had wracked up reach their own ends, some inside of someone, others into their hands.

“Alpha..” You breathed contently, letting out a sigh of relief at finally being filled with both knot and seed, and at the ache being released from your legs as he moved to let them rest comfortably beside his hips. You looked down and gently placed a hand, aching from how hard you had been gripping the edges of the table,(though you don’t remember doing so) over the swell of your stomach, smiling weakly at the warmth it emanated.

“Princess…” Your Alpha responded, lifting his hand to place it over yours, “Do you feel that, ‘Mega? That’s where you’ll be carrying our pups. I’ll keep you full with my cum for your entire heat and make sure… Make sure that you’re carrying my pups.” You looked up and met his onyx eyes, his hair loose from his low bun and falling in his face, making him look like a being of pure beauty and sex sculpted by the Gods themselves. He had a lazy yet confident grin on his lips, a mixture of yours and his saliva making them glisten, the faintest hint of his Alpha Fangs showing.

He looked like the perfect vision of an Alpha. The perfect vision of Your Alpha. He may not be able to claim you, but you wouldn’t let that stop you from declaring yourself as his. You would proudly carry his pups and submit to his every desire like the perfect little Omega for him.

Your Alpha leaned down and kissed you again, though this time it was slow and sensual and loving rather than the fast and wet, fiery passion it had been before.

“Love you, princess. So fucking much..” He panted against your lips, pressing another chaste peck before resting his forearms beside my head to keep himself up.

“Love you, too.. Daddy..” Your voice was slurred with fatigue, both from the exertion of being perfectly bred and from the pure exhaustion your first heat had shot through you.

You didn’t know when, but you slightly stirred awake from when you had, apparently, passed out, at the sound of a low growl. You were still mostly asleep so you couldn’t comprehend much, but you could tell you were now being held against your stepdad’s chest as he sat in what seemed to be a booth. You vaguely recognized that he had growled at an Alpha who had gotten just barely too close to you both.

The protectiveness lulled you back into a comfortable sleep against his chest, happily breathing in his pheromones. You hadn’t been able to even realize if you could smell his pheromones earlier, your mind too occupied by the physical sensations you were receiving.

When you awoke again, you were situated in his truck, buckled up as he pulled out of the parking lot. You realized you were in his shirt and some new pants that seemed to have been bought just earlier. You felt an ache in your hips and between your legs, one you knew you wouldn’t trade for the world. Tiredly, you dragged your hand to rest over your lower belly once again.

“You finally awake, princess?” Your stepfather’s husky voice asked, seeming more than content. Looking over you found him shirtless and smiling at you as he waited for the light to change. You gave a nod with a matching grin, singing contently.

“Yea.. I’m finally awake..” You spoke, voice hoarse from your loud moans and cries, though you couldn’t be happier.

“I’m awake..” Your Omega purred happily, the sound emanating from you, too, filling the truck with the sound of a happy, filled, and bred Omega.

You could feel the heat calming in your body, leaving you with an exhausted form feeling aches all over and a feeling inside you that you couldn’t pinpoint. All you knew was that your Omega was completely and wholly content and happy. You felt inexplicable giddiness and ecstatics, like everything had gone according to some grand plan.

You couldn’t seem to bring your hand away from your belly, feeling like you were meant to hold it. To cradle it.

‘Who knows? I’ll just have to figure out these instincts as I go.. Maybe it’s an Omega thing.’

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog

#tw public sex #tw exhibitionism #cw public sex #cw exhibitionism #tw stepcest #cw stepcest #abo dynamics #alpha x omega #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #spiderlily spells

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months

Text

Demon-haunted computers are back, baby

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

As a science fiction writer, I am professionally irritated by a lot of sf movies. Not only do those writers get paid a lot more than I do, they insist on including things like "self-destruct" buttons on the bridges of their starships.

Look, I get it. When the evil empire is closing in on your flagship with its secret transdimensional technology, it's important that you keep those secrets out of the emperor's hand. An irrevocable self-destruct switch there on the bridge gets the job done! (It has to be irrevocable, otherwise the baddies'll just swarm the bridge and toggle it off).

But c'mon. If there's a facility built into your spaceship that causes it to explode no matter what the people on the bridge do, that is also a pretty big security risk! What if the bad guy figures out how to hijack the measure that – by design – the people who depend on the spaceship as a matter of life and death can't detect or override?

I mean, sure, you can try to simplify that self-destruct system to make it easier to audit and assure yourself that it doesn't have any bugs in it, but remember Schneier's Law: anyone can design a security system that works so well that they themselves can't think of a flaw in it. That doesn't mean you've made a security system that works – only that you've made a security system that works on people stupider than you.

I know it's weird to be worried about realism in movies that pretend we will ever find a practical means to visit other star systems and shuttle back and forth between them (which we are very, very unlikely to do):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

But this kind of foolishness galls me. It galls me even more when it happens in the real world of technology design, which is why I've spent the past quarter-century being very cross about Digital Rights Management in general, and trusted computing in particular.

It all starts in 2002, when a team from Microsoft visited our offices at EFF to tell us about this new thing they'd dreamed up called "trusted computing":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/05/trusting-trust/#thompsons-devil

The big idea was to stick a second computer inside your computer, a very secure little co-processor, that you couldn't access directly, let alone reprogram or interfere with. As far as this "trusted platform module" was concerned, you were the enemy. The "trust" in trusted computing was about other people being able to trust your computer, even if they didn't trust you.

So that little TPM would do all kinds of cute tricks. It could observe and produce a cryptographically signed manifest of the entire boot-chain of your computer, which was meant to be an unforgeable certificate attesting to which kind of computer you were running and what software you were running on it. That meant that programs on other computers could decide whether to talk to your computer based on whether they agreed with your choices about which code to run.

This process, called "remote attestation," is generally billed as a way to identify and block computers that have been compromised by malware, or to identify gamers who are running cheats and refuse to play with them. But inevitably it turns into a way to refuse service to computers that have privacy blockers turned on, or are running stream-ripping software, or whose owners are blocking ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

After all, a system that treats the device's owner as an adversary is a natural ally for the owner's other, human adversaries. The rubric for treating the owner as an adversary focuses on the way that users can be fooled by bad people with bad programs. If your computer gets taken over by malicious software, that malware might intercept queries from your antivirus program and send it false data that lulls it into thinking your computer is fine, even as your private data is being plundered and your system is being used to launch malware attacks on others.

These separate, non-user-accessible, non-updateable secure systems serve a nubs of certainty, a remote fortress that observes and faithfully reports on the interior workings of your computer. This separate system can't be user-modifiable or field-updateable, because then malicious software could impersonate the user and disable the security chip.

It's true that compromised computers are a real and terrifying problem. Your computer is privy to your most intimate secrets and an attacker who can turn it against you can harm you in untold ways. But the widespread redesign of out computers to treat us as their enemies gives rise to a range of completely predictable and – I would argue – even worse harms. Building computers that treat their owners as untrusted parties is a system that works well, but fails badly.

First of all, there are the ways that trusted computing is designed to hurt you. The most reliable way to enshittify something is to supply it over a computer that runs programs you can't alter, and that rats you out to third parties if you run counter-programs that disenshittify the service you're using. That's how we get inkjet printers that refuse to use perfectly good third-party ink and cars that refuse to accept perfectly good engine repairs if they are performed by third-party mechanics:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

It's how we get cursed devices and appliances, from the juicer that won't squeeze third-party juice to the insulin pump that won't connect to a third-party continuous glucose monitor:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

But trusted computing doesn't just create an opaque veil between your computer and the programs you use to inspect and control it. Trusted computing creates a no-go zone where programs can change their behavior based on whether they think they're being observed.

The most prominent example of this is Dieselgate, where auto manufacturers murdered hundreds of people by gimmicking their cars to emit illegal amount of NOX. Key to Dieselgate was a program that sought to determine whether it was being observed by regulators (it checked for the telltale signs of the standard test-suite) and changed its behavior to color within the lines.

Software that is seeking to harm the owner of the device that's running it must be able to detect when it is being run inside a simulation, a test-suite, a virtual machine, or any other hallucinatory virtual world. Just as Descartes couldn't know whether anything was real until he assured himself that he could trust his senses, malware is always questing to discover whether it is running in the real universe, or in a simulation created by a wicked god:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/28/descartes-was-an-optimist/#uh-oh

That's why mobile malware uses clever gambits like periodically checking for readings from your device's accelerometer, on the theory that a virtual mobile phone running on a security researcher's test bench won't have the fidelity to generate plausible jiggles to match the real data that comes from a phone in your pocket:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2019/01/google-play-malware-used-phones-motion-sensors-to-conceal-itself/

Sometimes this backfires in absolutely delightful ways. When the Wannacry ransomware was holding the world hostage, the security researcher Marcus Hutchins noticed that its code made reference to a very weird website: iuqerfsodp9ifjaposdfjhgosurijfaewrwergwea.com. Hutchins stood up a website at that address and every Wannacry-infection in the world went instantly dormant:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#the-matrix

It turns out that Wannacry's authors were using that ferkakte URL the same way that mobile malware authors were using accelerometer readings – to fulfill Descartes' imperative to distinguish the Matrix from reality. The malware authors knew that security researchers often ran malicious code inside sandboxes that answered every network query with fake data in hopes of eliciting responses that could be analyzed for weaknesses. So the Wannacry worm would periodically poll this nonexistent website and, if it got an answer, it would assume that it was being monitored by a security researcher and it would retreat to an encrypted blob, ceasing to operate lest it give intelligence to the enemy. When Hutchins put a webserver up at iuqerfsodp9ifjaposdfjhgosurijfaewrwergwea.com, every Wannacry instance in the world was instantly convinced that it was running on an enemy's simulator and withdrew into sulky hibernation.

The arms race to distinguish simulation from reality is critical and the stakes only get higher by the day. Malware abounds, even as our devices grow more intimately woven through our lives. We put our bodies into computers – cars, buildings – and computers inside our bodies. We absolutely want our computers to be able to faithfully convey what's going on inside them.

But we keep running as hard as we can in the opposite direction, leaning harder into secure computing models built on subsystems in our computers that treat us as the threat. Take UEFI, the ubiquitous security system that observes your computer's boot process, halting it if it sees something it doesn't approve of. On the one hand, this has made installing GNU/Linux and other alternative OSes vastly harder across a wide variety of devices. This means that when a vendor end-of-lifes a gadget, no one can make an alternative OS for it, so off the landfill it goes.

It doesn't help that UEFI – and other trusted computing modules – are covered by Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), which makes it a felony to publish information that can bypass or weaken the system. The threat of a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine means that UEFI and other trusted computing systems are understudied, leaving them festering with longstanding bugs:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#que-viva

Here's where it gets really bad. If an attacker can get inside UEFI, they can run malicious software that – by design – no program running on our computers can detect or block. That badware is running in "Ring -1" – a zone of privilege that overrides the operating system itself.

Here's the bad news: UEFI malware has already been detected in the wild:

https://securelist.com/cosmicstrand-uefi-firmware-rootkit/106973/

And here's the worst news: researchers have just identified another exploitable UEFI bug, dubbed Pixiefail:

https://blog.quarkslab.com/pixiefail-nine-vulnerabilities-in-tianocores-edk-ii-ipv6-network-stack.html

Writing in Ars Technica, Dan Goodin breaks down Pixiefail, describing how anyone on the same LAN as a vulnerable computer can infect its firmware:

https://arstechnica.com/security/2024/01/new-uefi-vulnerabilities-send-firmware-devs-across-an-entire-ecosystem-scrambling/

That vulnerability extends to computers in a data-center where the attacker has a cloud computing instance. PXE – the system that Pixiefail attacks – isn't widely used in home or office environments, but it's very common in data-centers.

Again, once a computer is exploited with Pixiefail, software running on that computer can't detect or delete the Pixiefail code. When the compromised computer is queried by the operating system, Pixiefail undetectably lies to the OS. "Hey, OS, does this drive have a file called 'pixiefail?'" "Nope." "Hey, OS, are you running a process called 'pixiefail?'" "Nope."

This is a self-destruct switch that's been compromised by the enemy, and which no one on the bridge can de-activate – by design. It's not the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last.

There are models for helping your computer bust out of the Matrix. Back in 2016, Edward Snowden and bunnie Huang prototyped and published source code and schematics for an "introspection engine":

https://assets.pubpub.org/aacpjrja/AgainstTheLaw-CounteringLawfulAbusesofDigitalSurveillance.pdf

This is a single-board computer that lives in an ultraslim shim that you slide between your iPhone's mainboard and its case, leaving a ribbon cable poking out of the SIM slot. This connects to a case that has its own OLED display. The board has leads that physically contact each of the network interfaces on the phone, conveying any data they transit to the screen so that you can observe the data your phone is sending without having to trust your phone.

(I liked this gadget so much that I included it as a major plot point in my 2020 novel Attack Surface, the third book in the Little Brother series):

https://craphound.com/attacksurface/

We don't have to cede control over our devices in order to secure them. Indeed, we can't ever secure them unless we can control them. Self-destruct switches don't belong on the bridge of your spaceship, and trusted computing modules don't belong in your devices.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/17/descartes-delenda-est/#self-destruct-sequence-initiated

Image: Mike (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/stillwellmike/15676883261/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

#pluralistic #uefi #owner override #user override #jailbreaking #dmca 1201 #schneiers law #descartes #nub of certainty #self-destruct button #trusted computing #secure enclaves #drm #ngscb #next generation secure computing base #palladium #pixiefail #infosec

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tarjapearce · 11 months

Text

Ley Del Hielo

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: ANGST. Strained and unhealthy relationships, break up, arguments.

Summary: You and Miguel say things you shouldn't say, a final straw in your already strained relationship.

Requested here

Hope you like ✨ (Yeah, Im a sucker for angst >:'))

At times you didn't know if you were fighting crime, or fighting to keep your sanity together. Miguel was for sure a difficult person to deal when he got into stubborn mode.

You were stuck in this limbo where your patience could only last for so long, even though your relationship with him wasn't falling apart completely, and there were little moments that actually made you stay, there were moments like this that made you wonder if sticking around him this far was a good idea.

"Don't."

You warned before sighing and shaking your head. You knew where this was going. He was getting frustrated over the fact that a teenager, an anomaly itself, as he liked to call the boy, had escaped his grasp.

It wasn't something you liked to discuss since you found each other's triggers, and you both exploited them with a temporary guilt-free anger, only to patch each other up, with little service acts that had drawn each other into your current relationship.

"Don't what?" He prodded with a sharp tone. He wasn't having a good day, and of course, the fact you were the only one that would actually stand him and his verbal retaliation, made you the perfect subject of 'With what are we hurting each other today?'

You didn't like the game but it was impossible for you to remain shut, whenever you felt things started to get personal. Like exposing each other's terrible traits.

"I'm not doing this today, Miguel."

"All I asked you was to know your input."

"You already damn know it."

"Miles needs to be stopped. We don't know how this will affect-"

"The canon. Yes. The fucking canon." you couldn't help but hiss in anger. A signal that you were done of hearing it.

"We have a day off, once in like, forever. And we are holed up here, trying to come up with ways to stop him. Fucking romantic" Your anger this time was justified or so you wanted to think. It was a rare occasion when he actually decided to take a break, and you both had decided to spend it as normal as you could.

Meaning, you both at home, away from the HQ, away from all the mess. Instead, you were in the lab with him. Again.

"We found a possible lead on where he might be. Can't miss a chance like this." His end of the floating bay was full of screens, cramming up with data and other information. Lyla had been long gone ever since the first hostility signal was shot. You wished to be her for a minute.

"A bit of normalcy is all I'm asking. Is it that hard to get it?"

"We're not normal people."

"But we're still people nonetheless. You are obsessed with that boy."

"A threat to everything I have worked for!" His voice raised and it tugged rougher at your simmering hurt seams.

"I? You think only you had sacrificed shit to get where WE are?" even though raising your voice wasn't an habit you had, your patience had dictated it was enough.

"Look at our team, Miguel. It's divided because you're too stubborn to actually-"

"To actually what? Give a fuck for what might happen to all of us?"

"You hurted Miles!"

"I did not" He hissed while pointing an accusatory finger at you. "If I had actually done that I wouldn't be in this fucking mess trying to fix it, (Name)"

His breathings turned more agitated, as your voice trembled with anger. You were definitely baiting into his game.

"He is a kid, Miguel. A fucking fifteen year old that is barely hanging cause he is already taking grown ass people desicions. He's doing what he think it's right!"

"Im. Not. Risking it." each word felt more venomous than the other as they left his lips.

"What if it was your daughter trying to save you? "

But of course you had the annoying ability to turn it around in the worst way possible.

His eyes flashed red and his neck almost snapped by how quickly it turned to face you.

"No te atrevas..." (Don't you dare)

"Would you chase her down, and hurt her like you did with Miles?"

"CÁLLATE!" (Shut up)

he roared as his fangs and talons immediately poked out, his frame towering on you. And for the first time in forever, you were afraid of him. Silence crashed the emotional crescendo. He sighed, you followed but none of you were humble enough to speak.

-------

You were in your bedroom, removing the traces of dried tears from your face. You had gone home first, the need of fleeing the suffocating space you shared with Miguel was too fresh on your mind that the sheer thought of you going back, made you uncomfortable in a way you couldn't describe.

But there he was, stepping out the window, and removing his mask to then drop some plastic wraps of food on the dining table. A familiar scent egging you, or at least attempted to lure you out of the room. A failed first attempt on its own.

"Food's on the table." he mumbled from the doorframe as you put on a bit of moisturizer, "It's your favorite." Silence.

His brow pinched with a slight simmer of frustration.

Too soon.

He gave you space, and slept in the couch.

-----

Four days of pure silence, four days devoid of your acknowledgement, your voice, your touch, your acts of services like bringing him coffee in the morning, a little empanada in exchange for a kiss. Your presence.

You were not one to remain quiet, but the sudden, almost immediate change towards him, made him anxious to a certain degree. Despite you being in the same working station, you felt miles away. You didn't fear detachment, something you had once told him, but never believed, until now.

"(Name)" His voice called, first time, you ignored. He sighed and approached. Hearing his advancing footsteps only made your skin crawl and tears blur up to your eyes.

"I think we... should need a break from each other." your voice had stopped him dead in his tracks. His mouth tasted sour suddenly

"I've been thinking and it's the only rational approach for all of this... mess."

Heart pounded hard against his ribcage. His mouth gaped softly, but no words came out of it. His eyes darted to your hunched form. You looked tired, emotionally burnt out and almost... broken. It felt like a cold knife piercing through upon realization. He had pushed you too far.

" All we do is fight, and hurt each other. Im... Im tired of that. Work has turned in your main priority and..." you trailed off, tears menacing your eyes

"It has stopped being good. Good for us. I can't..." His eyes softened and his breath hitched, "I can't do this anymore, Miguel."

He had imagined such words coming from your mouth in many occasions but finally hearing them, were equally destroying. His heart beat faster

"I'm sorry" even though weak, an honest apology. You shook your head

"Sorry doesn't always fix it. Not this time I'm afraid."

His chest heaved as he approached you carefully. His hand reached for yours and tears finally rolled down your cheeks.

"It's not healthy."

"I know."

"We can't do this anymore."

"I don't want you to go" He mumbled. His hands reaching for you, you were still there in the flesh.

"We'll only end up hurting each other again." He shook his head as you voice broke.

Was this another canon event he wasn't aware of? You were slipping away through his fingers despite having you within his embrace, cradling you.

"I need to go"

Stay

His mind chanted despite his limbs loosening around you. Freeing you. His eyes settled on you and the relieved sigh you gave as he granted a much needed space.

His eyes locked into yours, there was no need to speak. A mutual understanding between you. You offered a small pat on his bicep, almost reassuring, hopeful. You left him be.

You'd be back. When you felt ready for it.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman astv #miguel o'hara angst #angst #astv x reader #spider man 2099 x reader #astv fanfic

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tarot-archives · 27 days

Text

Wasted Summers— Laios Touden

Mermaid Au. Modern AU. this fic involves drowning.

i. fish out of water

Laios has to take a bike to the market. His house was far from the rest of the village so it was up to him for tonight's dinner. His dad wasn’t home yet while his mom was busy with housework. That leaves the responsibility to him, the eldest Touden son.

On the way, he saw someone or some animal flopping around the asphalt. Laios pulls on the brakes before he can make roadkill then his eyes widen. Despite its bare upper torso which would attract most few, the boy’s eyes land on the half-fish lower end of its body. Mermaids, beings once marveled as legends but had become a local attraction.

Despite its human half, mermaids are labelled as unintelligent creatures by most of scientific society. They lack means of communication, they have the intelligence of a five-year-old and have yet to show other uses than eye candy. Some exotic dealers trade them too. Perhaps as a meal or something far worse in the black market.

Laios picks up a stick and whips it in front of the mermaid, “Get out! Get back to the sea! Shoo!” And like other animals, it tries to get away from him. But it doesn’t return to the sea. Instead, the mermaid waddles itself up the road to the direction of the shrine on top of a mountain, much to Laios’ disappointment.

“I said go back!” Laios stomps in front to scare it off, yet the mermaid persists. The noise it makes as it tries to waddle is a bit cute. He notices that with each noise Laios makes it grumbles, like a reply. It’s similar to a barking dog but looking at it struggle makes it sad. Its human half makes it difficult for him to be scary.

“That’s not the sea” The blonde makes an X with his arms” That’s the shrine. Not your home, a Shrine.”

And from a single word, the mermaid looks at him excitedly, then points to the top. It takes Laios aback from its reaction. Does it understand?

Laios wets his lips, “Are you heading to the Shrine?”

The mermaid nods enthusiastically, making him excited. A mermaid understands his language. A mermaid understands his language.

They can communicate! So it was possible to talk to them. He had read so much about marine animals and his sister took an interest in mermaids before. There were activist groups promoting mermaids' rights, fighting for their independence, and protesting against hunting. He’s seen those people outside of supermarket stores handing out pamphlets for mermaid awareness.

“We should get you— oh right,” he scoops the mermaid up into his arms to clear themselves from any incoming traffic as he heads to the beach. “Let’s talk about it somewhere else.”

Laios abandons his grocery duties as he spends the rest of his day with the mermaid.

ii. a notebook and a handkerchief.

For the past few days, Laios has been by the beach to talk with his mermaid. It made him feel special that some amazing creature like that was friendly towards him. Sure there were reports about mermaids drowning people, but he was careful. These conversations—er uhm— data were discovered on the shoreline. Laios noted that the mermaid had a good memory. And if he wasn’t feeding it with half of his lunch. The mermaid still points towards the shrine.

“Do you have anyone you know?” Laios asks, but the mermaid tilts its head.

“Person? Shrine?” Laios Points to himself and then to the building. Still, the mermaid doesn’t have a new reaction.

“Shrine?” he points to the building, and the mermaid nods once more.

“go?”Laios dropped to the pebbled ground and imitated the waddling mermaid from yesterday.

He sits up and then points to it to, “You?”

Its eyes widen as if it understands then waddles away to swim back into the sea. Maybe it went back home. They don’t have the concept of saying goodbye, after all, he thinks.

Laios waited for a good minute or so before deciding to call it a day. However, as he was about to depart, he heard stones being turned at the shoreline. He looks back and is happy to see his mermaid but with a handkerchief in hand.

“La-os! La-os!” it waves the fabric around proudly.

iii. mermaids are not meant on land.

The following day, Laios takes his father’s wheelbarrow with him and a bucket. He filled it up, bucket by bucket with seawater as he intended to take the mermaid through it. But of course, his mermaid was a curious one. Laios didn’t have to persuade it to come closer and had accepted to be whisked once more in his arms. It sits there snuggly, lucky for him it didn’t thrash around.

It simply points up to its awaited place, “Sha-rine?”

“Yes, Shrine,” Laios lifts the wheelbarrow and rolls upwards to the mountain. It was a cloudy day perfect for a walk and they took breaks here and there. He made sure it stays moist by taking the water from the wheelbarrow and pouring it over its head. When it started to splash around to play, Laios had to scold it to stop. And he noticed that in this journey, the mermaid likes to be held. It kept on pulling his hand over its head for head pats. Laios wanted to indulge in it too, it’s a bonding activity that heightens trust, but maybe for another day.

After an exhausting attempt, Laios has succeeded in bringing it up to the shrine. It splashes around clearly excited to break free.

“Wait, hold on, let me- argh!” The wheelbarrow leans to the side, making the mermaid fall. He urgently went by its side to check for any injuries, and luckily there was none. Laios presses both his palms into her, “Stay. Here.” But as soon as he tries to leave, it waddles again.

“La-os!” it wiggles around. It was displeased with the new terrain. “La-os. mhmm, Sha-rine. Kership.”

Laios tried his best to keep it calm but it was too exciting.

“Who is there?” A voice asks. The loud noise alerted the groundskeeper and he stared at both Laios and the mermaid. The blond noticed the way the groundskeeper gripped his broom upon seeing the mermaid.

In an instant, he shields it, “Wait, don’t be alarmed!”

“Kid, get out of the way,” the groundskeeper raised his weapon, ready to strike. “You have a dangerous animal behind you!”

He doesn’t budge, “Please Listen, it’s harmless!” Laios tries his best to seem friendly. It was a common understanding that churches deemed mermaids as devils luring sailors to death. But that was a stereotype made in bad faith against women.

“Harmless?” The groundskeeper was disgusted at the notion. “That animal attacked me! Don’t be fooled boy. they might appear kind, but they’re just lowering your guard waiting to attack.”

“But it made it all this way to give something,” Laios grabs the broom the throws it to the side. “I know that they’re just no better than animals, but this one is smart. It wants to return something.”

“Get out!” the groundskeeper pushed Laios making him land on his butt. The mermaid rushes to Laios side seeing he was attacked. The mermaid hisses and curl its fingers as if to strike against the offender. But Laios pulled it back, its skin against his chest to make sure it didn’t retaliate.

In the end, he decided to leave the shrine and head back to the sea.

iv. humans are not meant for the sea.

Laios sits by the shoreline with his mermaid friend by his side. He was discouraged by how the groundskeeper reacted. Maybe it was because he was old, acting his mindset from his generation. Younger people like him were more understanding after all (more or less). Mermaids were not like the creatures most people played them out to be.

They were like sharks. Their identities were muddled by years of propaganda against them. Though mermaids were quite new, they still didn’t escape the lies and stereotypes held against them. Here he is, waiting as the golden sun sets before he heads home. Laios likes how the light bounces off its scales in an ethereal glow. Ever since earlier when he had given her head pats, it was now eager to receive more as it nuzzled his side if he stopped.

“you’re not like them are you?” Laios sighed, today was an unfulfilling day. “you’re not like the humans with their biassed judgement.”

The mermaid doesn’t understand, it simply nudges its head against his palm.

“I wish I wasn’t human,” he lets out this foolish idea. Laios had always wanted to be something else. Perhaps, his reasons for helping the mermaid weren’t as altruistic as he thinks. After a moment, the mermaid stops in its movements. “hmm? what’s wrong?”

“La-os!” it cups his cheeks in his palms making Laios fluster. He couldn’t speak, unsure of what to interpret its actions into human behaviors. But its interest changes and it's back down again playing with the bucket he brought. But Laios looks away feeling embarrassed.

All of a sudden, a blunt force hit the top of his head, his vision was blocked, and then he felt talon sharp fingers digging into his skin as something dragged him to the sea. His heart was racing, and by the time he had removed the bucket from his head, more than half of his body was in water.

Laios claws at the grounds of the shoreface. He kicked and thrashed to break free from whatever was grabbing him, but it was a gruelling fight. This creature was strong in the water. Land dwellers like him don’t belong here.

His body needs air. Water enters his lungs as Laios struggles to escape. And with one successful hit, he had managed to escape and limp far away from the shoreline, coughing out the seawater from his chest.

He looks around to search for his mermaid, making sure that it is out of harm's way. He didn’t want the creature that tried to drown him to hurt it too. But with his friend out of the foreshore, Laios gawks at the familiar sets of eyes on the water.

It can’t be, His mermaid couldn’t have drowned him, right?

“Laios?” it tilts its head, not understanding it did something wrong. “Bakit?”

“What? Bucket?” he searched for it on the ground, but it was nowhere to be found. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s too terrified to act after that attempt that almost kill him. Maybe the groundskeeper was right. Mermaids are animals waiting for the moment to attack.

Drenched, Laios takes the wheelbarrow home. He doesn’t return for a while.

v. things to find out

In his journal, he wrote: in the same way as I brought her to the shrine on the wheelbarrow, did it mimic by using the bucket to scoop some air for me to breath in? did it try to show me its home? did it understand when I said I wished I wasn’t human? could joining it make me like it?

AN: It’s mermay! yey my first piece for this prompt. This fic was inspired by Ryoko Kui’s work titled Ryuu No Kawaii Nanatsu No Ko. It’s the second chapter, mermaid sanctuary. It’s a good read if you like dungeon meshi. it makes you understand ryoko ryu’s story telling which enhances the DMeshi experience tbh.

#laios touden x reader #laios x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #torta talks

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recurring-polynya · 10 months

Text

My kid asked me to explain blood types to her today, which made me remember the odd little fact that in the character profiles that appeared at the ends of the earliest Bleach volumes, there are blood types listed for the human characters, but not for the shinigami characters. Shinigami obviously have blood, we've all seen it, we've seen so much of it, honestly, but is it like blood blood? Is blood transfusion a thing they do?

I did not have any particular recollection of anyone ever receiving a blood transfusion in Bleach, but I looked up all the hospital scenes I could think of off the top of my head. Both Byakuya nor Hinamori have sort of a notable absence of things sticking out of them. I'm no expert and I don't even particular like doctor shows, but this is a situation where I would expect both of them to have IVs for hydration, if nothing else. Hinamori's got a respirator and some mysterious carts off to her far side, at least, and maybe Byakuya's just far enough on the upswing that he doesn't need it anymore.

Next shot was the famous Rukia and Renji sharing a hospital room scene.

Renji's respirator goes...under his blanket? Is this right? This doesn't seem right. Rukia doesn't seem particularly attached to anything, although there's kind of a bundle of wires? tubes? coming out of her right shoulder area. You can see them better in this shot:

That sure doesn't look like medical grade tubing, the lower one looks kinda like Hihiou Zabimaru, tbh. IVs usually work by gravity, no? Also those tubes are way too big to be going into someone's veins.

Finally, here's Kira, getting his dubious Squad 12 medical procedure.

More shady, giant, intestine-ass looking tubes that... go into him? wtf. They're attached to a computer. Maybe these are data cables?

The upshot of all of this is that I don't think shinigami have blood transfusions. I can't imagine that they don't know about them, so I imagine it's more of a case of their blood is just part of their soul, like, all of them is just soul all the way down, and it would be nearly impossible to accept a transfusion that was made of someone else's soul (soulmate-enjoying fanfic writers, take note). They do like sticking tubes in people, tho.

This sucks because when I was originally thinking about this, of course I was thinking about all the blood Renji has in his body and whether or not he's a universal donor, because, frankly, if he is, I think they would have a special framed painting of him at Squad 4 and let him have as much donuts and apple juice as he wants.

I think the main reason manga list characters' bloodtypes anyway is because Japanese people use it as a personality test, similar to horoscopes. For the record, here are the characters whose blood types we know:

Ichigo - AO Orihime - BO Chad - AO Tatsuki - AO Isshin - AB Uryuu - AB Don Kanonji (????) - BO

When I was trying to look up what they meant, I found this hilarious graphic, thank you verywellmind dot com

Looks to me like these blood types were definitely chosen to tie into personality at least to some degree (I'm not sure about Isshin, but he probably has fake Urahara Shouten-brand gigai blood-substitute anyway, so I am choosing not to read too deeply into that). Anyway, along those lines, judging from this chart, if we wanted to bootstrap Renji's blood type from his personality, I think he would, in fact, clearly fit into the idiot-on-a-skateboard quadrant. So he is a universal donor! (or at least he would be, if he were filled with blood instead of high-concentration ghost juice.)

#bleach worldbuilding #tw: medical #rukia feels like an AB to me??#i welcome the insight of people who are more medically literate than me #but i actually have a blood phobia which is why i didn't do very much research into that side of this post

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jinjeriffic · 3 months

Text

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 7

Part 6

It took Damian the rest of the afternoon to prepare for his trip to Amity Park. Jon helpfully agreed to cover for him, on the promise of a copy of the upcoming Cheese Viking 2 and getting filled in on all the hot Bat gossip afterwards. Wasn’t friendship grand?

Pennyworth thankfully agreed that ‘bonding time’ between the Super Sons was a good use of fall break and even took the time to ‘Prepare some healthy snacks for the young Masters, lest you eat junk food the whole week’. The task also handily distracted the butler while Damian packed the Batwing with all the necessary surveillance equipment he would need and set up the program to spoof his flight data. Damian had no doubt that Father wouldn’t be fooled for long, but with the Bat it was always better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

The flight to Illinois was mercifully uneventful. Damian rappelled off in the middle of the eponymous city Park, then instructed the autopilot to take the plane to a wooded area outside city limits and park there in camouflage mode. Once he was sure his arrival had gone undetected, he changed into civvies and with his backpack full of gear set off in the direction of Fenton Works on foot. In jeans, sneakers, a dark hoodie and a baseball cap he looked like any other kid his age, even if he was out after curfew. Damian made sure to stick to the shadows and ducked behind cover whenever a car passed him.

All in all it took him until the early morning hours to arrive at the correct address. Intellectually, he had known the Fentons operated their workshop out of the family home, but he was in no way prepared for the monstrosity of a building that greeted him. Damian couldn’t help but stop and stare in disbelief.

What had once started out as an ordinary brownstone building had a glaring neon sign out front, proudly proclaiming the company name. Perched precariously on the roof was a gigantic metal structure that looked like a cross between a cartoon UFO and an observatory. There was no way this was legal or sane. If something like this had popped up in Gotham it would have been flagged as a Rogue hideout and bugged to hell and back. Hell, Damian was half tempted to break in immediately to start planting cameras but was held back by the likely presence of a custom security system. Mad scientists were rude like that and Damian didn’t want to tip his hand too early. He would have to at least wait until he was sure the Fentons weren’t at home.

Damian tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and strolled past the building at a fake casual pace. The windows were dark and the building was silent, except for the faint hum of the neon sign. This early on a Saturday morning, the residents were likely fast asleep. He spotted an electric scooter chained up next to the stairs leading up to the entrance and made the deduction that it likely belonged to Daniel. Under the guise of retying his shoelaces, he dropped to one knee and surreptitiously attached a bug to the vehicle. Ideally he would get the opportunity to bug Daniel himself, but for now this would have to do. Hoping that no one had noticed him, Damian continued down the street.

He had researched the area ahead of time and had found an apartment a few buildings down and across the street that was advertised as available for rent and was unoccupied. Breaking in and disabling the home alarm was child’s play, and after making sure he was alone in the apartment, Damian settled in to begin his surveillance.

He pulled the handheld radiation detector out of his backpack and after making sure it was operational he slipped it into his pocket. With no way to boost its range he would have to get pretty close to Daniel with no major obstructions in the way in order to verify if he had been in contact with the marked bills he had slipped Phantom. But Damian was confident in his ability to stay undetected. After all, Daniel had no reason to suspect he was being stalked by a curious Bat.

Damian kept himself occupied by listening to the local radio broadcast over his comm. The hosts sounded like chipper twenty-somethings, excitedly shilling for various local events happening over fall break, in-between shilling for local businesses. Why anyone would want to eat at an establishment called the Nasty Burger was beyond Damian. Whenever they stopped nattering to play actual music it was a blessing even if the appeal of the songs was entirely lost on the young vigilante. Finally, at 8am they had an actual news segment. Most of it was covering major US and global events, nothing Damian hadn’t already heard. Elections, natural disasters, rising tensions in Bialya…

“...and in local news, the City Library has announced that clean-up after last week’s ghost attack is finished, and they will be open at their normal hours on Monday!” the female host said cheerily, as if she was talking about the weather. “As usual, we would like to remind our listeners to keep their third eyes peeled for any ghost sightings! In case of a ghost attack, follow standard protocol and head to your nearest ghost shelter. Thank you! And here’s Mark with sports!”

Damian was flabbergasted. Ghost attack? This city experienced supernatural incursions and treated it like it was a normal occurrence? He’d read that the Fentons were ghost hunters, but he hadn’t thought anyone was taking them seriously! If Amity Park was under attack on a regular basis, how come the Justice League didn’t have a file on the city? Surely the news should have leaked to the outside world by now!

It was rare that Damian was caught so utterly wrong footed. His cursory research into Amity Park had turned up nothing like this! He was itching to get back to the Batcomputer to do a deep dive on the city and its history. Unfortunately, all he had on him was his phone which was ill suited for serious data compilation. At best he could scour local news sites and social media for any hint as to what was going on.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he gave up in disgust. There was no mention of ghosts anywhere, save for the Fentons’ own website. Yet the news report had been almost blasé about the subject! Something was rotten in the State of Illinois.

All he could do for now was stare out the window at the Fenton’s front porch and hope his quarry made an appearance soon.

At 9.13 AM there was finally movement at the Fenton house. A dark-haired teenager in jeans, a light T-shirt, a backpack and a bicycle helmet bounded down the front steps and unlocked the electric scooter. It was unmistakably Daniel.

Damian hurriedly packed away his things, grabbed his backpack and left the apartment. He made sure to rearm the security system and lock the door, leaving no trace of ever having been there. Of course Damian wasn’t about to pursue his target across the rooftops of an unknown city in broad daylight. He would just have to wait for Daniel to arrive at his destination and follow him there. He retrieved his phone and pulled up the tracking data. It looked like the teen was headed towards the city center.

Damian tuned his comm to the listening device he had planted and set off towards downtown Amity at a light jog. For a while, all he heard was background noise. After about ten minutes, Daniel came to a stop.

“Hey Tucker, ready to go?” That had to be Daniel.

“Hey Danny!” a second male voice answered, “I was just waiting for you. Sam says she’ll meet us at the main entrance of the mall.”

“Sweet. Hopefully we can grab something cool from Game’O’Rama if we beat the rush.”

“You said it, my dude. Come on!”

The tracker resumed its movement. Now that he had a destination, Damian used his phone to call a cab. There couldn’t be that many malls in a city this size.

Daniel and his friend ‘Tucker’ kept up a steady stream of idle chatter on their journey. Damian learned more than he ever wanted to know about the attractive qualities of the female students at their high school, the tediousness of the homework assignments they had received for the week and the reviews of recent horror movie releases. Inconsequential chit chat as far as Damian was concerned. Once the pair arrived at their destination they parked their scooters and were soon out of range of the listening device. Damian cut the transmission and spent the rest of the short cab ride trying to find information on Daniel’s companion. Since they were apparently classmates and he had a first name to go on, it didn’t take long to narrow it down to Tucker Foley. Damian made a mental note to investigate him in depth later.

The mall was moderately busy when he arrived but nowhere near as bad as Gotham. Luckily there was a floorplan displayed at the entrance and it didn’t take Damian long to find the Game’O’Rama store. Predictably, it was dedicated to video games, gaming accessories and memorabilia. A sign in the window announced a major weekend sale, likely what had drawn Daniel and his companions. Damian slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses to conceal his eyes and meandered into the store. Wandering between the aisles, pretending to examine the games on offer, it didn’t take him long to find his quarry and Damian got his first good look at the trio.

Daniel was almost a head taller than Damian, slightly paler and with his dark hair mussed up from the scooter ride earlier. His clothes were slightly threadbare, and not the kind that was intentional. His white T-shirt bore a faded NASA logo and his jeans were frayed at the cuffs. He had dark circles under his eyes, though not nearly as bad as Drake got when he was on a case. Nonetheless, for the moment he seemed cheerful and at ease. He was examining the back of a disk case.

“I don’t know Tuck, I’m not much for medieval fantasy,” he said amusedly, “and a lot of these monsters look like ghosts we’ve seen. I get enough of them on a day to day basis, I don’t need them in my video games too.”

Again, this talk of ghosts.

The African American male next to Daniel had to be Tucker Foley. He was just a few inches shorter than Daniel, with his hair in shoulder length dreadlocks partially covered by a red beret. A matching red T-shirt with white Atari logo and baggy camo pants screamed nerd even before you got close enough to notice the black rimmed glasses and the clunky looking device he was tapping away on. Where did he get it from, the middle-ages?

“Look, the reviews are pretty great, and if we avoid everything ghost related what’s even left?” the boy argued, “You can’t let ghosts ruin your fun, man.”

“Tucker’s right, Danny.” the third member of their group chimed in. She was dressed head to toe in black, with a sheer, lacy top, a knee-length skirt, fishnet gloves and stockings and a pair of combat boots. With the thick soles giving her added height, she was almost as tall as Daniel. She wore eerily pale foundation making her dark purple lipstick and eyeshadow pop out even more. She had a small nose stud with a matching purple stone. Her earrings were shaped like spiders dangling from a web and she wore a pentagram necklace. Damian knew some of his schoolmates belonged to the goth subculture, but Gotham Academy’s dress code heavily limited such self-expression on campus. He guessed this girl was either really dedicated to the style or really dedicated to pissing off her parents. Maybe both.This had to be ‘Sam’.

“Besides, if Technus couldn’t ruin gaming for us no one else should either!” she continued.

“Fiiiiine,” Daniel sighed, clearly playing up his reluctance. “but if Amity gets attacked by an army of goblins next I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’!” He double checked the price tag. “Splitsies?”

The girl scoffed and plucked the case from his hand. “I’ll take this one, you can pay for lunch later. Why don’t you two go ahead to Pineapple Republic for those jeans you wanted? I’ll catch up to you.”

“If you’re sure. Thanks Sam!” Daniel leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I guess we’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, thanks Sam.”

“Go on, shoo!” she laughed and headed over to the cash register as the boys left the store. Making a split second decision, Damian grabbed a random game from the shelf and got in line behind Sam. He leaned slightly towards her, pretending to examine the figurines behind the counter and stealthily stuck a bug to her skirt. Now he could listen in on their conversation without having to risk being noticed.

After paying for his purchase he wandered off in the direction the other teens had taken. He would just have to leave the game somewhere ‘accidentally’ at the earliest opportunity. Pretending to check his phone he tuned his comm to the frequency of the new bug.

“...I think those are still a little short on you.” Sam said amusedly.

“Man, I’m glad I finally got my growth spurt, but having to replace most of my wardrobe is gonna be a pain in the ass!” Daniel complained.

“Look at it this way Danny, this could be your chance to branch out. A whole new style, a whole new you!” Sam countered enthusiastically.

Damian walked towards the source of the signal. He didn’t follow the trio directly into Pineapple Republic, instead heading into the shoe store across from the clothing store. Browsing there would let him keep an eye on the entrance.

“Let me guess, would this style include black, black and more black?” came Foley’s snarky voice.

“Black is timeless, I’ll have you know,” Sam sniffed in mock offense, “and Danny does look good in it. Just try it?”

“I don’t know Sam, I don’t wanna blow my allowance on clothes that don’t feel like me.”

“Oh! We could always try the thrift store, they have plenty of cool stuff! And upcycling is great for the environment.”

“Uh, hard pass,” came the flat reply, “I would like to survive the year with some of my dignity intact, please.”

“Yeah dude, if Dash and his cronies caught wind of Danny going to Goodwill or something they’d never let him live it down.”

“There is nothing wrong with buying second-hand!”

“Says the girl in $500 guaranteed cruelty free designer boots.” Foley shot back.

“That’s different!” Sam sputtered, “And besides, I don’t see why you still chase the approval of those jerks.”

“Easy guys, settle down,” Daniel said placatingly, “Sam, you know it’s different for us. You might be able to brush off Paulina’s snarky comments, but I can’t just brush off Dash trying to rearrange my face. I’d rather not paint an even bigger target on my back.”

Sam gave a loud sigh. “Ugh, stupid high school politics. I can’t wait to graduate.”

“I dunno, if things go according to plan you’ll have to deal with real politics, Ms Future Administrator of the EPA Manson.” Daniel teased.

“You mean Senator Manson.” Foley chimed in.

“Madam President Manson!”

“Stop it guys!” the girl laughed, “I’ll leave the political ass kissing to someone else. I just want to save the planet! But I gotta get my doctorate first.”

“Well if you do end up having to take over the country to do it, there’s one thing to keep in mind,” Foley said sagely, “You can’t be much worse than President Luthor.”

The two replied with fake gagging noises while Foley just snickered.

“But seriously, since you brought up mixing up my style… I was thinking of getting my ears pierced.” Daniel said hesitantly.

“Really? Ooh, do you want studs? Danglers? An industrial?” Sam gushed excitedly.

“Well… aw nuts.” Daniel’s voice was suddenly tense.

“You know what?” Sam rushed out, equally tense, “I think you should go and try these pants on. In the changing room. Right now.”

Damian frowned. What the hell had happened? He glanced out the shop window but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly, he heard distant screams and the sound of glass breaking. It’s almost like being back in Gotham.

Part 8

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #damian wayne #robin #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #tucker foley #sam manson #help the length of this fic has run away from me #team phantom is 16 btw #damian is 12

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thewhumpyprintingpress · 4 months

Text

Your New Lab Rat: A Guide for Whumpers Scientists

CW: Lab whump, dehumanization, implied captivity, torture, non-sexual nudity, and restraints

Congratulations on your new lab rat! This is a big step in any scientist's career, and in this helpful guide I'll walk you through getting your subject prepared for experimentation. I know you're excited and want to jump right into the science, but trust me, the proper prep work is essential.

First things first, you need to call your lab rat something. The following are some of the most common names, but feel free to be creative!

Subject (my personal favorite)

Specimen

Asset

An ID number

Their species

Did you pick out a name? Excellent! The next step is to strip away the rest of their dignity. I know this might seem a bit harsh, but it's the best way to ensure your subject cooperates, and you need their cooperation to get that sweet, sweet data you're after. Take away all their possessions, even their clothes. You can give them some scrubs or a hospital gown if you want, or you can just leave them nude. If they argue or cry, just ignore them. There's always an adjustment period when a subject enters a lab, it'll pass quickly.

Your next steps will vary based on the temperament of your subject. If your subject is docile, you might not need to do anything further in preparation and can jump right into experimenting. However, some subjects exhibit aggression, which is unproductive to data collection. You will have to tame them. There are a wide variety of techniques that can be used, so consider the resources at your disposal. Note that you do not want to cause irreparable harm to your subject at this stage. Here's a list of popular disciplinary techniques to consider:

Shock collar

Withholding food, sleep, etc.

Isolation/solitary confinement

Stress positions

Sedatives

And of course, give positive reinforcement when your subject completes a wanted behavior. Most subjects are eager to please once they understand that they will be rewarded for cooperation. Your subject will be behaving themself in no time!

Finally it's time to start your experiments. Stick to the scientific method, and remember results must be replicable to stand up to peer review. That means that you'll need to run the same experiment on your subject multiple times, and preferably have other subjects to compare them to.

A note on safety: even the best trained subject can act out if in pain. I always recommend the use of restraints during experimentation for your own safety. Additionally, always make sure you are wearing the proper PPE. Gloves, safety goggles, lab coat, hazmat suit, etc. make your you protect yourself!

Science is hard work, but by preparing your subject beforehand it will be that much easier. Whatever your research goals, I wish you and your subject good luck!

If you decide to write your own lab rat whumpee, consider submitting to The Whumpboratory, our lab whump-themed anthology! Submissions are open until July 31, 2024. More info here!

#lab whump #dehumanization tw #whump #whump prompt list #lab rat whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #the whumpboratory

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zedecksiew · 4 months

Text

How To Play The Revolution

So: I do not like the idea of TTRPGs making formal mechanics designed to incentivise ethical play.

But, to be honest, I do not like the idea of any single game pushing any particular formal mechanics about ethical play at all.

So here I am, trying to think through the reasons why, and proposing a solution. (Sort of. A procedure, really.)

Assumptions:

Some genres of game resist ethical play. A grand strategy game dehumanises people into census data. The fun of a shooter is violence. This is truest in videogames, but applies to tabletop games also.

Games can question their own ethics, to an extent. Terra Nil is an anti-city-builder. But it is a management game at heart, so may elide critiques of "efficiency = virtue".

Not all games should try to design for ethical play. I believe games that incentivise "bad" behaviour have a lot to teach us about those behaviours, if you approach them with eyes open.

The systems that currently govern our real lives are terrible: oligarchy, profit motive; patriarchy, nation-states, ethno-centrisms. They fuel our problems: class and sectarian strife, destruction of climate and people, spiritual desertification.

They are so total that the aspiration to ethical behaviour is subsumed by their logics. See: social enterprise; corpos and occupying forces flying rainbow flags; etc.

Nowadays, when I hear "ethical", I don't hear "we remember to be decent". I hear "we must work to be better". Good ethics is radical transformation.

If a videogame shooter crosses a line for you, your only real response is to stop playing. This is true for other mechanically-bounded games, like CCGs or boardgames.

In TTRPGs, players have the innate capability to act as their own referees. (even in GM-ed games adjudications are / should be by consensus.) If you don't like certain aspects of a game, you could avoid it---but also you could change it.

Only in TTRPGs can you ditch basic rules of the game and keep playing.

So:

D&D's rules are an engine for accumulation: more levels, more power, more stuff, more numbers going up.

If you build a subsystem in D&D for egalitarian action, but have to quantify it in ways legible to the game's other mechanical parts---what does that mean? Is your radical aspiration feeding into / providing cover for the game's underlying logics of accumulation?

At the very least it feels unsatisfactory---"non-representative of what critique / revolution entails as a rupture," to quote Marcia, in conversations we've been having around this subject, over on Discord.

How do we imagine and represent rupture, to the extent that the word "revolution" evokes?

My proposal: we rupture the game.

+++

How To Play The Revolution

Over the course of play, your player-characters have decided to begin a revolution:

An armed struggle against an invader; overturning a feudal hierarchy; a community-wide decision to abandon the silver standard.

So:

Toss out your rule book and sheets.

And then:

Keep playing.

You already know who your characters are: how they prefer to act; what they are capable of; how well they might do at certain tasks; what their context is. You and your group are quite capable of improv-ing what happens next.

Of course, this might be unsatisfactory; you are here to play a TTRPG, after all. Structures are fun. Therefore:

Decide what the rules of your game will be, going forward.

Which rules you want to keep. Which you want to discard. Jury-rig different bits from different games. Shoe-horn a tarot deck into a map-making game---play that. Be as comprehensive or as freeform as you like. Patchwork and house-rule the mechanics of your new reality.

The god designer will not lead you to the revolution. You broke the tyranny of their design. You will lead yourself. You, as a group, together. The revolution is DIY.

+++

Notes:

This is mostly a thought experiment into a personal obsession. I am genuinely tempted to write a ruleset just so I can stick the above bit into it as a codified procedure.

I am tickled to imagine how the way this works may mirror the ways revolutions have played out in history.

A group might already have alternative ruleset in mind, that they want to replace the old ruleset with wholesale. A vanguard for their preferred system.

Things could happen piecemeal, progressively. Abandon fiat currency and a game's equipment price list. Adopt pacifism and replace the combat system with an alternative resolution mechanic. As contradictions pile up, do you continue, or revert?

Discover that the shift is too uncomfortable, too unpredictable, and default back to more familiar rules. The old order reacting, reasserting itself.

I keep returning to this damn idea, of players crossing thresholds between rulesets through the course of play. The Revolution is a rupture of ethical reality like Faerie or the Zone is a rupture in geography.

But writing all this down is primarily spurred by this post from Sofinho talking about his game PARIAH and the idea that "switching games/systems mid-session" is an opportunity to explore different lives and ethics:

Granted this is not an original conceit (I'm not claiming to have done anything not already explored by Plato or Zhuangzi) but I think it's a fun possibility to present to your players: dropping into a parallel nightmare realm where their characters can lead different lives and chase different goals.

Jay Dragon tells me she is already exploring this idea in a new game, Seven Part Pact:

"the game mechanics are downright oppressive but also present the capacity to sunder them utterly, so the only way to behave ethically is to reject the rules of the game and build something new."

VINDICATION! If other designers are also thinking along these lines this means the idea isn't dumb and I'm not alone!

+++

( Images:

https://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum/developer-diary/victoria-3-dev-diary-23-fronts-and-generals.1497106/

https://www.thestranger.com/race/2017/04/05/25059127/if-you-give-a-cop-a-pepsi

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WarGames

https://nobonzo.com/

https://pangroksulap.com/about/ )

#theory #ttrpgs #politics #revolutions #proposals #pariah

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semischarmed · 5 months

Text

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired.

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen.

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it.

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1:

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short.

My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged.

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day.

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water.

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this.

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.”

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol”

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself.

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text.

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream.

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment.

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head.

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done.

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry.

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”.

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another.

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny.

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through.

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front.

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature.

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”.

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine.

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click.

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

#Male body swap #body swap

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